Steve's exhausted and completely distracted the next day. His mind is on Darcy and the baby she's carrying and he hasn't thought about anything else since she told him the news. How could he possibly? Once he'd gotten her to calm down and quit crying, they'd had a pretty stilted conversation about what happens next. She told him he could come with her to the first doctor's appointment next week if he wanted, but that she was fine to go alone. He told her he'd be there. Darcy left pretty quickly after that because she was tired and smell of the forgotten dinner burning on the stove made her sick. But she promised to meet up with him today so they could talk.

"Where the hell are you today, punk?" Bucky asks, and Steve startles from his perch on the counter in Tony's lab. Tony's doing some work on Bucky's cybernetic arm to repair the damage inflicted on their last mission.

His head falls back with a thump against the metal cabinet. "Nowhere," he lies. "Just tired."

Bucky's answering grin is lightning quick. "Yeah? Your date wear you out last night?"

Tony perks up and stops his work. "Hold it. Cap had a date?"

"Mmhmm," Bucky nods. "How'd it go?"

Steve's teeth gnash together and his fingers flex tightly around the edge of the counter. "Not the way I hoped," he clips, giving Bucky a stern warning look.

"Well, 'scuse me for askin' like a good friend," Bucky shrugs.

"What's the matter, Rogers? Didn't get your dick wet last night?" Tony asks, a wicked grin shooting across his face.

"Fuck off, Stark," Steve grouses.

"So no, then?" Tony deadpans and turns his attention back to Bucky's arm.

The door to the lab hisses open and the click of high heels marching purposefully across the concrete floor echoes through the room. Bucky nudges Steve's knee and waggles his eyebrows. Steve's view is obstructed from where he's sitting, not that he cares about some girl Bucky finds attractive right now. He's got bigger problems.

"I have a bone to pick with you," a woman snaps, and Steve freezes when he instantly recognizes the voice as Darcy's. There's a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he recalls their conversations in Texas.

Darcy came to New York to work for her dad. If she's in here, then that means—No.

"I didn't do it," Tony says dryly, inspecting the modifications on Bucky's arm.

Darcy marches over and plucks the tool from Tony's hands, dropping it on the counter with a clang. "Excuse us," she tosses to Bucky, turning heated eyes to Tony. Hands fisted on her hips, she starts tapping the toe of her blue high heel on the floor until Tony shrinks slightly beneath the glare. "Yes, you damn well did do it. This is your company and the department you hired me to run is full of incompetent dickbags."

And there it is. The proof he needed. Darcy is Tony Stark's daughter. Fuck. Steve swallows the lump in his throat and watches their already messed up situation turn into a complete train wreck right before his eyes.

Tony grins fondly. "Well, kid, time to see what you're made of. See if you can whip those dickbags into shape. Oh! That's what she said. Am I right?" He looks excitedly around to everyone and holds up his hand for a high five which no one returns. "Rude."

"You're twisted, old man," she snorts irreverently, pushing his hand down. "Not that you understand anything about boundaries, but pro tip, don't make jokes like that in front of your daughter."

"Daughter?" Bucky says, surprised.

Darcy turns around, a wry smile on her lips that quickly falls away the moment she spots Steve. Her eyes round in shock and the color drains from her face.

"Guys, meet Darcy Lewis, my offspring," Tony says, wrapping his arm proudly around her shoulders.

Steve watches Darcy quickly mask the shock and she gives them both a polite, albeit strained, smile.

Bucky holds out his human hand. "James Barnes. Nice to meet you," he winks and shakes her hand.

"Yeah, you too," she replies absently, flicking her eyes over to Steve.

"How come you didn't tell us about your daughter, Stark?" Bucky asks Tony.

"Because the media vultures would never have left me alone and I didn't want that life," Darcy clips. "Tony Stark may enjoy the circus, but I do not."

"JARVIS warned me you were in a bad mood today," Tony mumbles.

Darcy glares over her shoulder at Tony before whipping her head around to glare at Steve. "And who the hell are you?" she snaps.

Steve hops off the counter and clears his throat. "Steve Rogers, ma'am," he says politely, offering her his hand. Darcy steps forward to shake it and once her back is to Bucky and Tony she hotly stares him down, squeezing his hand tightly in her grip. Despite the heated glare, her face is white as a sheet and he's really worried she's going to faint.

She lets go of his hand and folds her arms across her chest. "So," she starts, turning around again and eyeing Bucky, "judging by your arm and the work my dad is doing on it, I'm guessing you're not on Stark Industries payroll."

"Not exactly, doll face," Bucky smirks and is met with three equally unimpressed faces.

Darcy glances over at Steve and then back to her dad. "Who's that?" she asks with a jerk of her head. "Stark Industries or your merry band of superheroes?"

Tony laughs. "God, you are my kid. See, Cap? No one recognizes you without the red, white, and blue of Old Glory wrapped around your ancient ass!"

Her mouth falls agape as she puts two and two together, eyes open wide. "Jeeeeesus H. Christ! You're Captain America?" she croaks, whirling around to face Steve. Her eyes are searching his face, pleading with him to tell her it's not true.

Steve's jaw tightens and he wants to tell her how sorry he is she found out this way. He can't, though. Not without giving them away. He pastes on a polite smile instead. "Yes." Darcy presses her lips together tightly and gives him a curt nod in return.

"Nice to meet you," she says shortly.

Tony grins and claps his hands together once. "Well, now that everyone knows each other, you two get the fuck out so I can talk to my daughter."

"No," Darcy says, straightening her spine and turning towards Tony. "That—that won't be necessary. I have work to do." She jabs an index finger at his chest. "Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock. My office."

Steve watches the man's brows knit together in concern. "You feeling alright?" Tony asks her.

Darcy shakes her head. "Not the best. I think I'm coming down with that bug going around. Not all of us can be superheroes, you know," she grits out and sways a bit on her heels. Steve springs forward and steadies her before she falls. She tenses in his arms and shrugs him off. "I'm fine, Captain. Dad, can you go get me some water?"

"You bet, kid," Tony says, giving her another concerned look before walking out of the lab.

Bucky rolls over a chair for her to sit in. "Thank you," she mutters, plopping down into the chair and taking deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks gently, kneeling down in front of her. Darcy shakes her head and squeezes her eyes closed. "Darcy—"

Darcy's eyes shoot open and she places her finger over her lips and points to the ceiling. Not here, she mouths silently. Steve nods and pushes himself back to standing.

Bucky flicks his eyes back and forth between them and Steve ignores him for the time being. His number one priority right now is Darcy. A close second is Tony and not dying at Iron Man's hand today.

Tony hurries back in with a bottle of water and hands it to Darcy. "Thanks." She unscrews the cap and takes a sip. After a few deep breaths in and out the color starts seeping back into her face. "Okay, I'm feeling better now."

"Just go home," Tony insists.

"No," she says flatly.

"Darcy," Tony sighs.

"No. I have too much work to do. I'm fine, promise." She pushes out of the chair and forces a smile. "See? I need to get back to my office. Thanks for the water." Darcy spares a glance at Steve and Bucky. "Nice to meet you both."

"You, too," Bucky replies while Steve can only stare.

"I'll walk you back," Tony says and the two walk out of the lab.

Steve sags back against the counter and rubs both hands over his face. Bucky kicks the toe of his boot with his and arches a questioning eyebrow. Steve shakes his head, eyes glancing to the ceiling.

Through Stark-inherited mulishness alone, Darcy manages to keep it together until her dad finishes making a fuss over her and finally leaves the office. The moment the door closes behind him, she rushes to the attached bathroom and retches into the toilet. Once she's finished, she brushes her teeth and returns to her desk.

Her head is a whirlwind of emotions and there's no way in hell she's getting any work done the rest of the day. Things were already bad enough when she was just pregnant with the baby of her three-night stand, but now she's reeling over the fact that she's sperminated with Captain America's patriotic spawn. Darcy doesn't know much about Captain America other than what she learned in elementary school and a bit of info gleaned from old film on propaganda she watched once in high school. Some things her father divulged, but most of that information she thinks is bullshit because he and Steve had gotten off on the wrong foot. She does know that he fought during WWII and was friends with her paternal grandpa. That makes him, technically, almost a hundred. This is another one of those situations where she'd laugh her ass off if it wasn't happening to her. How fucking small is the world anyway, she wonders, that she ends up meeting and fucking one of the Avengers in the middle of nowhere.

Jesus.

Her father's going to kill her. And probably Steve, too.

"Dammit, this is a mess," she mumbles, reaching for her cell phone.

Steve follows Bucky to the bowels of the parking garage beneath Stark Tower. Bucky pulls a pen from his pocket and lifts the cap off. "Radio scrambler," he explains. "Natasha gave it to me. The hell is going on? How do you know Tony Stark's daughter?"

He hesitates and scrubs a hand along his jaw. "Texas," Steve says.

"Wait—she's Texas?" His jaw drops open when Steve nods and then raucous laughter comes pouring out of his mouth. He laughs so hard that his entire body shakes and he becomes silent again. "You…fucked…Stark's…daughter," Bucky chokes out. "Christ, he's gonna kill you if he finds out."

"Bucky," Steve warns.

Bucky swipes at his eyes as his laughter dies down. "C'mon, this is hilarious. Can you imagine the stroke he'll have?"

"He's going to find out."

"Naw, doesn't have to," Bucky shrugs. "You two could sneak around for a while. That's fuckin' hot."

Steve heaves a frustrated sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. "Darcy's pregnant."

Bucky stops and blinks a few times. "What?" he asks soberly. "Shit, Steve. Seriously?"

"Told me last night," Steve mutters.

"Well, damn—how're you doin' with that?"

"Still tryin' to wrap my head around it."

"She keepin' it?" Bucky asks.

Steve's jaw tenses whenever he thinks about the possibility of her not. "Yes," he says adamantly. "Due in April. She's got a doctor's appointment next week."

"I don't know what to say," Bucky says honestly.

"Me neither," Steve counters and he's spared from having to try and come up with something because the timer runs out on the pen scrambler and their voices are being recorded again. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out, reads the text from Darcy.

Darcy: This is fucked up. Can you meet to talk?

"I've gotta go. And Bucky?" he starts as he gives him a knowing look.

"Secret's safe with me."

"Thanks."

Darcy's sitting on a bench outside the diner where they agreed to meet picking at the chipped burgundy polish on her fingernails. Her face sours over how shitty they look and makes a mental note to get a manicure after work. A shadow looms over her and she startles, looking up to find Steve standing there. He at least has the decency to appear as nervous as she feels right now.

"Hi," he greets and motions for the door of the diner.

She shakes her head as she stands and feels nauseated again just thinking about it. "Can't. I was in there already and lasted about thirty seconds. I got a big ol' whiff of something greasy and disgusting and nearly threw up." Steve's lips thin into a straight line and he seems genuinely concerned about her. "I'm fine. My nose is just super sensitive to everything right now and morning sickness is sort of a misnomer. My variety is the all-day kind."

"I'm sorry," Steve says sincerely.

"Please stop apologizing to me," Darcy snaps. "It is what it is, okay? We just have to find a way to deal with it and each other—especially now."

She sees his jaw tighten and twitch as he bites back whatever words he had on his tongue and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Fine," he clips.

Darcy sighs because this isn't going well at all. "Sorry," she murmurs. "I'm sorry. I have a lot of mood swings right now. Violent ones. It's the hormones…and I suppose a little because of the Stark genes." She smiles crookedly and it draws a small chuckle from him. It's enough to diffuse the tension and hit the reset button.

"Want to walk through the park?" he asks and she nods. Steve's hand falls to the small of her back and he pulls her gently towards him when a man in a suit walking and texting nearly runs into her. His touch somehow feels both foreign and familiar, the heat of it leeching through the thin fabric of her silk blouse. She doesn't let herself read too much into it. He's a super soldier and a nice guy, and some asshole not paying attention nearly ran into his baby mama. That's all.

They walk a ways in not entirely comfortable silence until the crowd around them thins and Darcy points to a bench that's out of the way from lots of passersby. "So…" she starts when they sit.

"So…" he echoes, glancing sideways at her. "Tony Stark's daughter."

"Captain America," she mutters, scrubbing her hands over her face. "This is just—"

"Fucked up, you said. I don't disagree." Steve heaves a sigh and leans back against the bench. "When are you gonna tell him?"

"Can I wait until the baby's born?" Darcy asks warily and he huffs out a quick laugh.

"Don't think that'll work, Darcy."

"After my doctor's appointment, I guess. I want to make sure everything is okay first before we tell people." She sees his face pale a bit and his jaw is tense again. "I'm sure it is—okay I mean. I read that morning sickness and sore boobs are good signs that things are progressing smoothly and I've got both in spades." His eyes flick down quickly to her chest and she sees the tips of his ears redden before he meets her eyes again. "Sorry, no filter. I think waiting to tell people is still a good plan. No need to subject ourselves to a Tony Stark freakout unless absolutely necessary, you know?"

Steve snorts at that. "You've got a point. You gonna tell him before the wedding?"

Darcy slaps a hand on her forehead. "Oh, my god, I forgot all about that. How could I forget about their wedding? I'm forgetful as shit lately. Pregnancy brain…it's a thing." Silence fills the air between them again and Darcy frets about the bridesmaid dress that most likely won't zip up at the final fitting. "No. We should wait until they get back from their honeymoon."

"I'd like to be with you when you tell him."

"No," Darcy says flatly.

His eyebrows knit together and he has this line of tension between them that she wants to reach out and smooth away. "Darcy, this is my responsibility, too, and it's the right thing. Let me be there."

She shakes her head. "He'll kill you."

He rolls his eyes and if she's not mistaken his lips twitch in amusement. "No, he won't. He'll be pissed, but he won't kill me. He can't even hurt me unless he's suited up. We're friends now and—"

"Yeah?" she cuts him off. "And how long do you suppose that friendship will remain intact once he finds out you knocked up his daughter?"

"I don't really care if we stay friends or not," he snaps.

"But the team—"

"Darcy," he interrupts, "you and the baby are my top priority, not Tony Stark, not the Avengers. I don't give a good damn about anything else."

He says it with such certainty that it gives her pause and she lets his words rattle around in her head. She's thankful she's wearing sunglasses because her eyes burn with tears and she doesn't want to do that in front of him again.

"What'd I say wrong?" he asks quietly beside her, his expression helpless and endearing.

"Nothing," she insists, swiping at the traitorous tears that fall down her face despite ordering them to stay put. "It was the perfect thing to say, actually. God," she whines. "Pre-pregnancy I could count the number of times I cried in the last few years on one hand. I have given up counting now."

Steve reaches out and brushes away the tears on her cheek with his thumb. "I think that's pretty normal, especially given our…unique situation." The smile he gives her is mostly encouraging. "We need to get to know each other better, Darcy," he says softly and lets his hand drop away from her face.

"I agree," she murmurs. "Why don't you come over tonight and we'll talk some more?"

"Okay," he smiles again. "If you're hungry, tell me what won't make you sick and I'll pick that up on my way."

Darcy blows out a breath and smiles back. "You're sweet, Steve. Don't senior citizens eat at, like, 4:30 in the afternoon though?"

"Har har," he drawls, rolling his eyes as he pushes to his feet. He grins down at her and holds out his hands to help her up.

"But really, how old are you? A hundred?" she asks as they walk.

"Ninety-five, chronologically; physically, I'm twenty-nine."

She barks out a laugh. "So weird."

… … …

She does most of the talking on the way back and tells him about her job at Stark Industries. Steve's amused by the fact that she used to be a hacker, and he tells her she clearly inherited her father's intelligence.

They pass a hot dog cart and she gags when the scent hits her nostrils. "I am over this noise," she moans miserably as they round the corner.

"Wait here," Steve tells her and ducks into a candy store.

When he returns, he drops a white paper sack with the store's logo stamped on it into her hands. "I don't want candy," she grouses.

"They're lemon drops," he informs her. "I read that sour things can help ease the nausea."

A smile pulls at her lips. "When did you read that?"

Steve shrugs and stuffs his hands into his pockets again. "Last night—couldn't sleep. Try one; if they work I'll buy you a truckload of 'em. I just don't want you to be miserable." Darcy's face crumples again and he feels like he's trying to navigate a minefield. "God, don't cry," he pleads. "They're just lemon drops."

Darcy sniffles anyway and wraps him in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispers against his shirt. She pulls away quickly and gives him a watery smile. "You're being really great about everything," she tells him and pops a lemon drop into her mouth.

"I'm trying," he says earnestly and he really hopes she knows that. He'll do anything to ensure the health and safety of his baby and that means taking care of Darcy.

"I know. Me, too."

He nods and brushes away a stray tear off her cheek again. They're gonna make this work somehow.