AN: So this chapter is mightily long, and finally getting into some ship action. Enjoy!
A little over two weeks had passed since Thor's party. Darcy had finally managed to create a schedule for not only herself but for Jane as well. Darcy got up at six every weekday morning to go work out; how that had happened, she wasn't really sure, but it had something to do with Fandral (and then Thor, after he left) teaching her how to swordfight. 7:00 am – shower, 8:00 am to noon – SHIELD, 12:30 pm to 6:30 pm – Jane's lab. Thursday and Friday nights added 9:00 pm to 3:00 am – GRL. Saturday was spent lazing about, catching up on world news and new books.
This Sunday morning, however, Darcy awoke to a frantic text from Jane. Need help in lab. Having minor breakdown. Darcy sprinted out of bed, threw on clothes and all but ran to the lab. Fuck wearing shoes or her glasses or combing her hair. The last time Jane had a 'minor breakdown' had resulted in the toaster being blown up and 20 pages of Jane's notes being incinerated in the ensuing PopTart carnage.
As Darcy rounded the corner, she ran smack into something – no, make that someone. "Ohmigod, so so sorry!" she sputtered nervously.
"No problem ma'am," a deep voice said, righting her.
Darcy squinted at the person in front of her. "Steven, my PopTart quester, is that you? I can't really tell because I don't have my glasses on because there was absolutely no time. There is no need to call me ma'am; Darcy is just fine. Have you seen Jane? Apparently Bad Things (yes, the implied capital letters are totally necessary) are happening and I'm the Bad Things Cleanup Crew."
Steve smiled down at the hurricane in front of him. He had enjoyed their midnight foray, and had been hoping to run into her again – just maybe not quite so literally. He had tried to catch her at Thor's party, but some blond woman had all but cornered him until Natasha rescued him. Parties had never been his thing, so he'd left early and apparently (according to Stark) missed all the fun.
"No ma- I mean Darcy. I was on my way there to drop off something for Stark, though."
Darcy took a deep breath. Steve couldn't help but notice the effect it had on her…chest. As soon as he realized what he was looking at, though, he averted his gaze – but not quick enough to stop the blush from rising on his face. "All right, Steven, brace yourself. This may or may not be a war zone in the making."
Steve doubted that, but if it was, well...he was Captain America. He could handle it. Or so he thought...
Darcy walked into the lab, the Boy Wonder trailing behind her like a lost puppy. She had noticed the slight blush on his face, and had caught him glancing at her rack. Oh yeah, Captain McHotPants just checked me out. Ten points to Gryffindor!
Darcy took stock of the lab. Nothing was smoking; no papers were even out of place. The only thing that was wrong was that Jane was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, crying. Darcy immediately ran over and sat down beside her. "Honey, what's wrong? Did the new interns misfile your notes again?"
Jane sputtered. "No! I just got here and tried to make coffee and somehow I burnt it! And then it smelled so awful that I thought I was going to vomit. And then I opened up my computer and had an email from my parents telling me about my cousin's wedding that I missed because of this stupid research and I just really – miss – normal!" Jane said, ending in a body-wracking sob.
Since when was Jane hormonal? And since when did coffee not smell right? Darcy threw her arms around Jane. "I know sweetie, I know." She said, patting Jane's back and rocking her as if she were a small child. "How but I make pot roast for dinner? You can't get more normal than that."
Jane sniffled. "With the egg noodles and green beans?" At Darcy's nod, she added "and something really sweet for dessert?"
Darcy opened her mouth to suggest pound cake when she heard an uncomfortable cough. "Um, excuse me ladies, I'll just…" Steve said, as he sat the folder on the nearest desk. He backed out of the lab, looking extremely uncomfortable. The American Dream is scared of tears? Darcy noted, slightly surprised.
As he left, Darcy pulled Jane to her feet. "Now honey, I want you to go back to your rooms and do nothing more strenuous than lay on the couch with your man and cuddle. Be at my rooms at 6:30 bearing wine, and I shall reward you with normal."
Darcy ran down the hallway outside the lab to catch up with Steve. "Heya Steven, you any good in the kitchen?" she asked, linking arms with him. At his confused look, Darcy added, "Because Jane is being mega-freaking-hormonal, I am making pot roast with all the fixins for dinner. You're invited, btw. But I need assistance and since you're the first guinea pig I found…"
Steve gave her a small smile. "Well, my ma always said I could burn water, but I am a good guinea pig."
Darcy laughed. "JARVIS, will you tell Tony, Pepper, Clint, Natasha and Bruce that we're having dinner at my place at 6:30? Come bearing wine."
"Of course, Miss Lewis. Any preference on blend?" a well-articulated voice said from the ceiling.
"Any red is fine. Tell them the menu is pot roast and if there are any dietary restrictions they can suck it up and eat it anyway." She turned to Steve. "To the grocery!" she said, striking a heroic pose.
Steve glanced at her feet. "Don't you need shoes for that?"
Darcy Lewis's List of Foods that Qualify as "Normal":
1. Pot roast and egg noodles
2. Green beans
3. Sourdough rolls
4. Tossed salad
5. Chocolate chip cookies
Steve watched as Darcy flitted around her kitchen, obviously in her element, as he was so out of his. They had gone to five different groceries, searching for all the foods that she insisted were "normal." Steve had insisted on carrying most of the bags of food, leaving Darcy with only the one that held bread and fresh lettuce. Instead of using Stark's industrial-sized kitchen (with three ovens, no less), Darcy had insisted on using the smaller one in her suite of rooms. So they had gone up to her floor, and Steve reluctantly followed her into her space. She had immediately kicked off her shoes and plugged her pod thing into some speakers. As she directed Steve where to put things, Darcy put on an apron and pulled out the various kitchen implements they would need. As she bustled around her kitchen, prepping vegetables and mixing cookie dough, Steve just watched her and tried to stay out of her way.
And that was how Steve Rogers, for the first time in his life, was in a woman's home unchaperoned and out of his league. It made him a little uncomfortable – until Darcy turned and smiled at him, a smudge of flour on her nose. "Having fun yet?"
Steve smiled. "A pretty dame is making cookies and promising to feed me. What fella wouldn't be having fun?" he said, the compliment for once coming smoothly off his tongue.
"I don't know about pretty dames but these cookies will be pretty damn delicious." Darcy said with a self deprecating laugh. "Will you put the pot roast in the crock pot, please? If we start it now, we have time to eat a sandwich before the cookies have to be in the oven." Steve did as directed, and Darcy passed him a plate with a BLT and a glass of milk. "You look like the type." She said as he looked at the cold glass in his hand.
Darcy hopped up on the counter as she ate her own BLT. Steve wished he could sketch her in this moment: her hair, haphazardly held up by two chopsticks and her glasses, was beginning to fall down, as was the neckline of her shirt, sliding over one shoulder and exposing a delicate left collarbone. She had on a frilly apron over sweatpants and had flour across her nose and cheekbone.
Darcy stared back at him. "What?"
Steve shook his head, trying to clear out his daydream. "I think this may be the longest I've heard you go without saying anything," he said, attempting to make a joke – then immediately blushing. "I'm so sorry, Miss Lewis, that was uncalled for."
Darcy leaned back on the counter and laughed. "No, Steven, it's perfectly all right. I realize that I talk a mile a minute. To be honest, it's a defense mechanism – one that's been hard to break." She shrugged. "But when I cook, I go someplace within me that's…quiet. All I need is my playlist and my ingredients and I'm peaceful. I guess it's my way of meditating like Bruce does."
Steve looked at her, trying to see past the mouth and the witticisms, yet failing. "Why do you call me Steven?" he asked, suddenly curious.
Darcy looked at him, her blue eyes wide and innocent. "It fits you." After a slight pause she added, "Plus, I dunno…I feel like I'm seeing this part of you that no one else sees. To the public, you're Captain America, defender of our land. To the rest of the team, you're Rogers or Cap, their fearless leader. Or, you're Steve, who is the precious, technologically inept baby. But, I just feel like that night or morning or whatever when we wandered around the tower, you were just…relaxed. Like you were just some random regular dude I met, not a superhero."
Steve stared back into her eyes. He didn't know what to say. This girl had seen that hidden desire of his heart, that need – an overwhelmingly desperate need for - friendship; here she was now, offering it up with a side of chocolate chip cookies. But the manners his mother had instilled in him kicked in, so he simply said, "Thank you."
Darcy gave him a cheeky smile. "You're welcome." As she hopped down off the counter, she added, "Now, how good are you at shaping cookies?" As Steve held up his large hands, she laughed. "Good point. Why don't you just make yourself comfortable while I finish up the baking."
"Ma- I mean, Darcy, I feel bad just leaving you to do this on your own."
"Steven, I don't mind. When I requested your help, I really just wanted some company so I wouldn't have to talk to myself." Darcy explained as she placed balls of dough on a cookie sheet. "Plus, having you hear means I'm less likely to eat all the cookie dough."
"In that case, do you have a pencil and some scratch paper? I like to sketch." Steve said, with a slight blush. He followed Darcy's directions and found some in her living room. So he sat at the chrome-and-Formica table, so much like the one that had been in his mother's kitchen, and sketched the lively girl baking cookies. He watched as she spun around the kitchen, singing along with whatever song was softly playing in the background. Every so often, she would bring the bowl over and offer him a bite of dough. It was an oddly…domestic scene, and Steve felt surprisingly…content.
Darcy danced and sang as she baked cookies, almost – but never quite – forgetting about the superhero sitting at her kitchen table, apparently sketching her. She shared the leftover bits of dough, and every so often Steve would ask about the song playing on her "Tastes Like Home" playlist.
But then, one of Darcy's all-time favorite songs started playing ("Pumpkin Soup" by Kate Nash), and Darcy felt like a little mischief. So she sat the last batch of cookies down to cool and pulled Steve up from the table. "C'mon Steven, let's dance."
Steve just stared at her. "I- I- I don't know how." He stuttered, obviously uncomfortable.
Darcy smiled as she took his hands. "Dancing now isn't quite as structured as it was then. Just move, darlin', and enjoy the moment."
Steve somehow managed to spin her and not trip over his own feet. As the chorus started up for the second time, Darcy stopped and patted her cheek. "Do as the song says, Steven!" At his confused look, Darcy sang along. I just want your kiss boy, kiss boy, I just want your kiss…. As understanding (and another mighty blush) bloomed across his face, Darcy gave him a mischievous smile. "Just on the cheek. Consider it payment for the cookie dough I graciously shared."
Steve bent down and brushed a featherlight kiss across her cheek. Darcy put a hand on her hip. "That was a bullshit kiss, Steven. Let me show you how it's done." She pulled on his collar, bringing his face equal to hers. She slowly traced her hand over his cheekbone. What was intended to be a silly little prank to make him blush was suddenly becoming something much more…intimate. Darcy paused for a second, and the two stared into each other's eyes. She slowly leaned for and pressed her lips to his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, originally meant as a joke, but now Darcy wished it was for real. So she put as much comfort and hope as she could into a simple kiss on the cheek, then pulled back.
Steve's face was bright red, and now had a smudge of flour from her hand. Normally, Darcy would make a flippant joke, and the moment would pass, but she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth, let alone speak. Steve finally broke the heavy silence. "I'd better go clean up before dinner," he said, nervously putting his hands in his pocket.
Darcy gave a soft smile. "Okay. See you in a little bit, Steven."
He started to leave, then came back around the corner. As he handed her a folded piece of paper, he snagged a few cookies off the plate. Darcy attempted to stop him, but there was no way she could catch a super soldier attempting to ruin his dinner. As he left, she unfolded the paper. On the page was a drawing of her, using the wooden spoon as a microphone as she sang along with Florence + the Machine. At the bottom was a little note: For the pretty dame who made me cookies. You were right. They are damn delicious. Steve
It was at this moment that Darcy Lewis fell deeply and irrevocably in love with Steve Rogers – only she didn't know it yet.