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Chapter 3
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February is just beginning when Darcy's favorite bodega near the Tower closes. "I thought bodegas were like local cheap Chinese food places, in that they NEVER close as long as you live somewhere!" She'd moaned.
It wasn't really that inconvenient to go to the next grocery down the block. However, they didn't have Steve's favorite weird, obscure brand of chocolate cookies there, and the man asked for so few things specifically. This is how she found herself trekking half-way across Manhattan, Volstagg in tow, gloved hands buried in her coat pockets and head bent against the wind. The streets were clear, yet snow still piled up on the sidewalks, and the dog was enjoying himself. While Steve would have had a cow if he knew she was raiding every bodega between the East River and Hudson, Darcy was kind of enjoying exploring the city thus, the cold and wet notwithstanding.
She eventually found exactly what she was looking for at a tiny place outside of Harlem, and bought eight packages of the damn cookies. Upon exiting, she took pause, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, polluted air through her nose. Her eyes passed over the Hungarian pastry shop across the street, and Darcy found herself doing a double-take, squinting at the window, at the man sitting, having his mid-morning coffee and baklava, reading the paper. She barely remembered to look both ways before darting across the street.
"You're dead." She blurts out, falling into the seat across from one Philip Coulson. The paper lowers, and that measured, familiar smile greets her. Volstagg falls across Darcy's boots with a 'ruff'.
"Have you seen the new Batman film yet, Agent Lewis?"
"How did you know I'm an Agent now?" Darcy's eyes widen, "Phil, are you magic?"
"Very funny," Coulson sets his paper aside, and reaches for his coffee mug, "My question stands."
"Yes. And...gotcha." Darcy bites her lip, "...So, Bruce Wayne, how've you been?"
"Excellent," Phil smiles again, waving to the little waitress hovering nearby, "Miss, another coffee please."
An hour later finds the two of them sitting in Central Park, as a light snow starts falling. Coulson seems far more interested in what Darcy's been up to, what her training's been like, how Jane's research has progressed, and yes, how it is to live with Captain America. And then he's telling her about his own early years with SHIELD, while saying precious little about anything that's happened to him recently. And despite being desperate to know the details of his "death", Darcy finds herself latching on to the information, his little jokes about Fury, missions he's been on. He's still that reserved guy she was intimidated by in New Mexico, but far more at ease, and sounding like a straight up mentor.
"Ah," He looks down at his phone at length, as an alarm buzzes. "I'm afraid I've got to run Miss Lewis, ultrasound appointment." Darcy's eyebrows go up into her hairline.
"Woah, 'grats man," She presses her lips together, "...What do I tell Steve?" Phil blinks at her.
"Is he likely to ask you 'So did you see Agent Coulson out and about in the city today'?" He smiles, rising from the bench they'd been occupying, offering her a hand up. Darcy rolls her eyes.
"Well no, but..." She sighs, "I don't like keeping things from him. And seriously, man," Darcy narrows her eyes, as she stands, "You dying messed them all up. Was kind of a dick move, at least by Fury." Phil nods, slowly, giving the young woman in front of him an appraising look before replying.
"It served a greater purpose, though, you'll justify more than you realize with those words, before long," He says, hands in the pockets of his classy, yet perfectly civilian black pea coat, "And I was up for retirement. There are only so many ways that a SHIELD agent with my level of clearance can retire, Miss Lewis, and I am afraid you'll find that out yourself one day," He smiles again, and this time its the kindest, most unguarded smile he's given her, "I might not be dead, but I did take a blade through my chest. My name isn't Philip anymore to the rest of the world, my son won't have the last name Coulson, and I was clever enough to put a round-about paper-trail on a distant cousin so I'd have at least one family member to visit once I left the world."
Darcy swallows, letting all that sink in. She'd had a vague notion of all this, of how distant she already had to keep her parents, her big brother, but seeing the proof in front of her is another beast entirely. "I did almost die a few months back. Couldn't tell the folks," She takes a deep breath, looking down at the dog. "...Aaand now I can't have kids." Coulson drops a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"You'll give a lot more for SHIELD, before you're done...Believe in what you're doing, and believe hard." He whispers that last bit, and then smiles again, "And you've got the Captain. Is he taking care of my cards?"
"Keeps a couple in his wallet," She can't help grinning again. The look on Agent Coulson's face is priceless and pleased.
"Wonderful. Stay safe, Agent Lewis, and think about what I've said." He pats her shoulder, turning to go, leaving the park and hailing a cab. Likely taking him to a doctor's office somewhere, Darcy thinks, chewing on her bottom lip. Back to his quiet new life, with a family that won't ever have to worry about dad not coming home because he's busy fighting aliens or super villains.
"Damnit, it's like a Men in Black movie," She sighs, tugging on Volstagg's leash, wiping her eyes on her fuzzy glove.
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After she comes home from her Epic Cookie Hunt, Steve keeps...looking at her. He was reading when she came in, and now his eyes are just following her around the kitchen as she puts away food. Darcy's half afraid that he's suddenly developed telepathy (cause hey, that's a thing that happens), and will soon work out that she's just run into a very alive and chatty Phil Coulson, but his expression is a little too pleased. "You're makin' me nervous over here, soldier," She grins, having shucked off her outerwear and now tugging her sweater off over her head. Steve's eyes are fixed somewhere around her chest as she does, and Darcy thinks maybe she's getting a better idea of where his head is at.
"You're just...really gorgeous today," He grins, and she knows there's something else on the tip of his tongue that he isn't saying. She laughs, swaying over to the couch, while a somewhat soggy Volstagg gratefully curls up over a nearby heater.
"I'm a mess today," Darcy corrects, sitting across Steve's knees, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her hair is frizzy from her sweater, her face flushed and makeup-less, and her jeans are wet and sand-stained halfway up her calves. Captain America is having none of her protesting, though, already catching her in a kiss, going horizontal. This is when Darcy decides that arguing is just wasted air.
She's pretty sure he's distracting her from whatever he's trying not to say, but after her conversation with Phil, Darcy really doesn't care. At least not at the moment. She was just reminded of her mortality yet again, so distractions in the form of just how alive they both are? Totally okay. Steve doesn't even bother trying to get her to the bed, looming over her and fumbling with her pants, her shirt, right there on the couch.
Darcy takes pity on him and his big hands after a bit of awkwardness and giggling, deciding that what's going on in his head can wait. She tugs off her t-shirt, his sweater, and shimmies out of her jeans like a champ, and then they're kissing, tugging each close like teenagers. For all the devious stuff Darcy's introduced Cap to lately, nothing quite beats this, the two of them just reaching for each other, needing each other, without plot or preamble. He tugs on her boring ol' cotton panties, she's biting his neck, knowing it won't leave a mark, and then they're moving into each other against the scratchy, over-starched couch.
He cradles her face in his hands as he comes, some minutes later, gasping against her open mouth. And then his hands are swimming in her hair, tugging and gripping her close, both of their hips rolling against each other, drawing out the sensations, the deep, intense moans. And then Darcy's biting her lip, grinning up at him, tracing his sweet, vulnerable face with her fingertips.
"Somebody was thinkin' about me today, mmm?" She grins, and Steve returns it, a bit bashful. He hasn't been like this since they first met, and it has Darcy back to entertaining all kinds of theories about where his head is at.
"A lot," He admits, watching her as she rises, in her bra and nothing else, heading for the bathroom. He licks his lips, she sees out of the corner of her eye, and feels it somewhere deep and aching, "...Let's go to dinner tonight," He blurts out, and Darcy raises a brow, but doesn't argue.
"...All right!" She laughs, cleaning up and pulling a brush through her hair, before it finally hits her, where this all might be heading. "...Oh, fuck."
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She's wearing one of her best skirts when he asks her. The one she'd been wearing the day they met on the roof of the Tower, hugging her curves and paired with a lacy pink vintage blouse, the same kitten heels. Darcy half-hyperventilates all night, but it's a good feeling, a good knotting in her gut. Who cares that she's only 21 and he's a national hero. He loves her, and she's 99% sure that it's going to happen tonight, and it doesn't actually scare her in the slightest.
They're half-way through their fancy, ridiculously expensive desert when he starts fidgeting, and then clearing his throat, and Darcy feels the smile spreading across her face already, even before he starts talking, "Darcy," He manages to get out, looking her in the eye, and she finds herself sending him all the wordless encouragement she can muster. Steve relaxes, if only a little bit, grinning back, "I uh. Was going to wait until Valentine's Day but then I saw this today, and, well," He clears his throat, "You know I'd never be able to keep a secret that long." He draws the velvet box from his pocket, and Darcy can't help herself, tossing her head and laughing.
"No you sure as hell couldn't," She says loudly, fondly, biting her lip and willing herself not to get choked up. For pete's sake, she's a hardass SHIELD agent, nothing gets to her! But then Steve Rogers is getting up, right in the middle of a full restaurant, and the collective intake of breath almost does her in.
"Darcy Lewis," he starts, kneeling, and why the hell is this making her flail?! This is straight up cliché, romantic crap and...it's making her sniffle, already, her hands drawn up to her face. "You've made me happier than I...ever thought I could be, after all that's happened," The box snaps open, and Darcy has to admit, through her emotional enema, that Steve definitely knows her taste in bling. It's a simple ring, but the diamond is freakin' huge, and surrounded by tiny sapphires...her favorite color. "I know you don't want to get married for a while but, I figured I'd lock in my request early," His grin widens as his confidence grows, between her reaction and the soppy 'awws' from the other patrons, "I know I'm a chore sometimes. But if you'll be my wife...I promise to try and make you just as happy as you've made me."
"Oh god, get up here," She gulps, reaching down and grabbing his collar, tugging him up for a good hard snog. There's scattered applause, and a few snaps of cell phone cameras going off cause hey, someone just saw Captain America propose to his girlfriend. Darcy doesn't mind their intrusion into her happiness in the least. "Yes," She whispers in his ear, "Yes, yes, like ten thousand times, yes."
He pulls back to look at her, his expression tinged with an incredulity that undoes her all over again, right before he puts the ring on her, and kisses her again. Darcy's pretty sure he'll never stop being amazed that she loves him, and she knows for sure that she won't ever stop being floored by the fact that he's all hers. Even if they don't get hitched for a good long while, she's pretty sure they've got all two people need to stay together, right there.
At least, she hopes that's all two people need.
"Are you happy?" He asks her later that night, when once again, they're a tangle of warm limbs and sated flesh, all wrapped around each other tight. Darcy grins, her face almost unable to contain the motion, reaching up and stroking his hair.
"I'm the happiest girl in the world, handsome."
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Black Widow returns to the Tower a few days later. Darcy knows this, because Fury not only calls in all the Avengers for the debriefing, but her, Agent Hill, and Jane as well. She's only been in the office Tony set up for Fury once before, and then everyone had been far too morose for her to bother looking around. Now, Darcy takes in the digs with a little grin. Monochrome, boring, bordering on a parody of Fury's personality. She wonders if the director has noticed yet.
"Agent Romanov has just returned from Europe," Fury began, hands clasped before him on the large, smooth table, "Gathering recon. Natasha," He motions for her to speak. Darcy has seen Nat's various poker faces, but this one is the most thorough, her mission-face, one that Clint's mirroring, at the moment.
"SHIELD had inklings that certain, former Soviet spy channels were being reactivated," She says, crisply, "I've confirmed their suspicions. Many of the programs that produced various assassins scattered after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, including the program that cultivated me, are quite busy as we speak."
"Nat," Tony cuts in, raising a brow, "You couldn't have even been out of kindergarten when the USSR fell apart." At this, Nat just smirks.
"I'm a little older than I look, Stark," She murmurs, and this at least doesn't seem to be news to Clint, who just grins to himself. "At any rate, someone is contacting all the old lines. Activating people. Gathering them to their cause." She frowns, "Whatever level they're working on, though, I couldn't find or access it. All that's clear though is that someone wants very talented people, with very specific skills," She smirks at that, humorlessly, "I've got names of people for us to trail, though, to see where this is all going."
"Some bald angry guy with a doctorate who wants better-than-average henchmen, I'm guessing," Tony waves a hand, and actually succeeds in making Nat chuckle a little, which may have been his goal, "I'm also guessing these are folks most people wouldn't mess with on a good day, yes?"
"Yes," Nat bites her lip, suddenly, carefully, not looking at Tony then, or Clint, or Fury, anyone but Steve, "Also, I have to tell you...Winter Soldier has been activated." There's a collective murmur from the room. Or at least, from everyone except Steve and Darcy. Captain America just blinks.
"Who?"
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