Real apologies, Darcy felt, should be three things: heartfelt, personal, and definitely NOT via text message. Darcy was used to apologizing for the things she said; she did have quite the potty mouth, after all. But she wasn't used to making such personal, such real apologies. She really had gone off the deep end with her anger, and she needed to make amends for all the nasty things she had said.

So she sat in the driver's seat of the Ferrari, writing out apologies in her Moleskine notebook. It was only another 15 minutes to Stark Tower, and Darcy needed to prepare to clean up her mess. So she wrote out notes to each of her friends, to put with the silly little gifts she had gotten them.

Clint,

I'm sorry that I made a bigger mess than one of your exploding arrows, and I'm especially sorry for calling you out and putting you on the spot. Please accept this silly little token as my white flag of surrender to Asshole Central.

- went with a wrist guard, covered in Elvish writing (Clint did love LoTR a little too much)

Natasha,

I'm sorry for calling you out like that and making a big scene. I know we're not especially close, and that you think I'm an idiot, but I'd like to rectify that and to be friends. Maybe we can watch this together? I promise not to talk during.

- went with a copy of "Anastasia"

Bruce,

I know I might have out-raged you on this one. Sorry. I promise to get more of your favorite kind of PopTart for the lab.

- went with a collection of loose-leaf green tea

Tony,

Sorry for tackling you and picking your pocket and taking the Ferrari. I promise I brought it back in the same condition I found it in.

PS: Are you (Mg,Fe)7Si8O22(OH)2? The answer is on page 47.

-went with a book called "Science Pick Up Lines"

Pepper,

I'm sorry for implying such things against you. I know you're way smarter than Tony, anyway.

-went with earrings that were replicas of Egyptian grave goods

Thor,

Sorry I freaked out Jane and left you to deal with it. I know you weren't here for my explosion, but you still had to deal with the aftermath.

-went with an awesome Captain Hammer shirt (note to self: watch Dr. Horrible on the next family dinner night)

Jane,

I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know how that upsets you. Tell the baby I'm sorry, too.

-went with a coffee mug that showed constellations when hot, and a Captain Hammer onesie that matched Thor's shirt

Erik,

Sorry I made a scene, but you need to give me some credit, man.

-went with an incredibly awesome/tacky science tie

Steve,

I'm so, so sorry.

-went with a small, multi-sized record player

So, like a thief in the night, Darcy snuck around the Tower and left her gifts in prominent places, where she knew everyone would find them. She would make her apologies in person as she ran into everyone, but at least this felt like a start towards redemption.

Tuesday morning, Darcy woke up at 6 am and went down to the gym to work out. She didn't know if Thor would actually be there, but she had committed to her workouts, so she was going to try and keep them.

Surprisingly enough, Thor was there – and wearing the shirt she had gotten him. "Hello, little lightning sister," he said, quiet. "Lady Jane told me you were unhappy with us. I am most sorry for your discomfort," he said, wrapping her in a hug.

Darcy sniffled. "I just felt…unappreciated, ya know? Like all the little things I do go unnoticed." She mumbled into Thor's chest.

Thor released her from the hug and held her in front of him at arm's length, hands on her shoulders. "Friend Darcy, you are vitally important to our team. You are our humanity." At Darcy's confused stare, he continued. "You are the one that sees past the weapons and capes and battle scars to the simple men and women underneath. You remind us that it is okay to be only human – to make mistakes and to feel petty emotions and to hurt – because you will be there with your tub of strange cold dessert and your Midgardian movies to make the hurt and guilt and anger go away through laughter and compassion."

Darcy sniffed. Sometimes, she forgot Thor was a thousands-years-old divine god, with more life experience than Darcy could ever know. "Okay, well, I'm sorry for making a scene and being mean. So, let's get down to the swordplay."

Darcy skipped going to SHIELD that morning, instead choosing to hang out in the lab. Jane cried when she came in and gave her a big hug, garbling over her own apology in the midst of her sobs. She then showed off her first sonogram, which to Darcy looked like static on a TV, but she still exclaimed over it.

Erik gave her a quick, one-armed hug. "Sorry for doubting you," he murmured in her ear.

Darcy gave him a quick smile. "Sorry for being a bitch."

Bruce didn't hug her – he wasn't much for physical contact – but he did give her a smile. "It's okay, Darcy. That was nothing compared to the rages I've been on," he joked. "One time I broke Harlem, I was so mad." Darcy giggled at the ridiculousness of his statement.

The apologies done, everyone went back to their respective jobs. Darcy started scanning and saving the notes Jane had written while she was gone and playing solitaire while each document scanned. The morning passed in companionable silence, until Tony Stark barged in around noon.

"Where is she?" he asked. Darcy stuck her head around from behind the computer and waved. "How did you do that?"

"Which part? The Doom file or the explosion of feelings or the picking your pocket part?"

"The last one." At Darcy's shrug he added, "And yes. The answer to your question is yes." Darcy guffawed. He actually liked her gift. "Now where is my coffee?"

Finding the Assassin Twins was a little bit harder. Darcy was walking through the hallways – ostensibly on a coffee run, but really just looking for the two of them – when she felt something hit her butt. As she twisted to look over her shoulder, she noticed the Nerf dart that was attached to her back pocket. With a sigh, she pulled it off. On the inside of the suction cup, the word "Sorry" was written.

"You can come out of the air vent, ya know." Darcy said to the hallway. "I won't bite…at least, not unless you're in to that kind of thing." She turned around and ran smack dab into Clint.

"Sorry for being a bitch at your meeting." She said, not meeting his eyes.

"No need to apologize, babe. Due to your research, I actually had a chance at getting close to my mark in Monaco. And how in the world do you know about such weird kinks? You are too young for that kind of thing."

Darcy gave him a shit-eating grin. "Let's just say I dated this guy, once…"

Clint pulled out his own iPod, with a headphone splitter. "I found a song for you." As Darcy plugged in her own headphones, a weird Indian mystic song started playing.

"Seriously, Green Arrow?" But then the song changed to trashy 80s hair metal, and Darcy smiled. She started dancing in the hallway, tossing her hair and punching the air.

Clint just stared at her behind his sunglasses, until the chorus started. "She's all lips and hips!" he sang along to the song while playing air guitar.

The two jammed to the song in the middle of the hallway. Luckily Jarvis was the only one to witness this. (He recorded it for posterity.) After it ended, Darcy unplugged her headphones and held out her hand. "Friends?" she asked.

Clint bypassed her hand and went in for a hug. "Friends." He said, attempting to squeeze her ass.

Darcy laughed as she wiggled away. "We're not that good of friends, Barton."

"We could be!" he yelled down the hall as she went back to the lab.

Finally, Darcy called it a day in the lab and went back to her room. When she unlocked the door, she found some things in her apartment that hadn't been there before. On her desk were a set of Russian nesting dolls. When Darcy opened the inner one, she found a scrap of paper that had "sorry" written on it in elegant female handwriting.

In a box on her coffee table, Darcy found two things that looked like guns, but were way cooler. According to Tony's note, they were what he called "Tesla guns." Instead of bullets, they shot electricity. Way cooler than her Taser!

On her bedside table, Darcy found a riotous bouquet of snapdragons in every color. The note on the bouquet was signed by Pepper, and the bouquet itself added a little cheer to Darcy's gloom.

But the kicker was the drawing on her fridge, held in place by a Captain America magnet. The drawing was of a sheepish looking Steve, holding a sign that said sorry. It was perfect, down to the details – like the way Steve rubbed his neck when embarrassed, and the creases in his perfectly pressed khakis.

Darcy traced the lines of his face on the paper. She and Steve had been dancing around each other since the first family dinner, and that awkward cheek kiss. Darcy would say something flirtatious, and Steve would stammer and blush and find somewhere else to be. Every so often, Darcy would catch him watching her, and it would send the most delicious shiver down her spine. Darcy found herself planning outfits that she knew would appeal to his 1940s nature and adding Glen Miller and the Andrews Sisters to her iPod. Every Sunday, he would come over to her apartment and hang out while she made family dinner. Occasionally he would try to help, but most days he was content to chat with her about anything and everything while she cooked and he sketched. Over the last month, they had talked about everything from the US in the 1960s to Bucky, Steve's best friend, to the latest prank Clint had pulled on Tony. Darcy found herself looking forward to Sundays in a way that bordered on lovestruck.

Darcy heard a knock on her door. Her heart leaped, hoping it would be the costumed crusader she had been thinking about. Instead, it was Natasha, holding the DVD Darcy had gotten for her. Behind her were Jane and Pepper, wearing comfy pants and carrying popcorn.

"Girls night?" Natasha asked, holding out the DVD as if it were a white flag. Darcy opened up her door farther.

"Sure. But don't be mad if I sing along."

Natasha gave her a smile. "I'll be right there with you."

After the movie and a good gossip session, the other women filed out of Darcy's apartment. Suddenly exhausted by the emotional turmoil of her day, Darcy walked into her bedroom, ditching her clothes along the way. She flopped down on the bed in her underwear, arms spread wide. Showering would be nice, but that was just way more effort than Darcy wanted to exert at the moment.

After lying on her bed, having a pity party, for fifteen minutes, Darcy got up and started getting ready for bed. She traded her underwear for an oversized sleep shirt that proclaimed "I can sleep when I'm dead." It barely reached the top of her thighs, but it was ridiculously soft. Just as she was about to crawl into bed, she heard a quiet knock on her door.

"Did someone forget something?" she muttered to herself as she put her glasses back on. Darcy walked through her living room and opened the door. On the other side stood Steve Rogers, looking exactly like the drawing currently hanging on her fridge.

Darcy's mouth made an O of surprise. After a moment of just staring at each other, Darcy finally sighed. "Oh Steven. I'm the one who is sorry."

Steve leaned his sign against the hallway wall. "We should've included you. It wasn't right of us to leave you out."

Darcy gave him a wobbly smile, trying not to cry at how rom-com the moment was. "Just don't do it again, okay soldier?" she said, giving him a fake punch on the arm.

Steve looked at Darcy, standing on the other side of the door frame. It would be such a small step to bridge the distance between them, yet he couldn't bring himself to cross the line made by her door. At this moment, she looked so lost and fragile that it was all he could do not to reach out and hold her – to promise, without words, that she was wanted by the group…by him, if he was totally honest.

Darcy ended being the one to cross the boundary of her door. She pulled her to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Surprised, Steve stood there a moment, hands awkwardly to his side, until he wrapped them around her. Her head reached his collarbone, and it wasn't much of a stretch to rest his head on top of hers. Her hands knotted up in the back of his shirt, and his traced circles between her shoulder blades.

So they stood in the doorway for an eternity, wrapped in each other's arms. Finally, Steve extricated himself from Darcy's arms. "I missed you on Sunday." He said simply.

"You just missed my food," Darcy said as she pushed her glasses back up her nose.

Steve quickly shook his head. "No, I missed you." He reached down to wipe the single, solitary tear from her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, giving a little sigh of contentment. He leaned down, his face scant inches from hers. As she opened her eyes in shock, Steve noticed that they weren't as much blue as a deep, stormy sky kind of color – a dark blue, edged in smoky gray. "You once told me that I gave you a bullshit kiss," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'd like to try again."

He leaned down, placing his lips on her cheek while tracing his thumb over her other cheekbone. "I'm sorry" he whispered against her skin, the words echoing in the silence of the hallway.

As he turned to leave, Darcy grabbed his wrist. He turned his head back around to look at her. She gave him a smile – part cheeky attitude, part sexual innuendo, and part something that Steve couldn't quite get at. "Not bad, Boy Wonder," she said. "I guess now it's time to move on to the fun stuff, like French kissing."

Steve felt a blush rising on his cheeks. He knew what French kissing was, thanks to Bucky, and for once understood the offer she was making. "I'd like that, ma'am."

As he walked up the stairs to his suite of rooms, Steve Rogers was whistling. For the first time in a long time, he felt like less of a superhero, and more of just a guy, who was attracted to a pretty dame.