Friday rolled around, and Darcy was beyond ready for it to be 5 o'clock. Jane's latest full-time lab assistant had called in sick, so Darcy had spent the day in the lab collating notes and diagrams (and who the FUCK had messed up her awesome filing system?) and trying to keep Jane from murdering Thor for distracting her from work. Between that and Tony yelling at Dum-E and Butterfingers, she was OVER the science tantrums.

At least, that's what she told herself. The truth was, Darcy really just wanted to go get ready for her epic date with Steve. (!)

Now, Darcy isn't one to pull her punches. She is fully aware of what her assets are and how best to exaggerate them – not that they need exaggerating, but hey, it never hurts…

Darcy had spent the last hour on YouTube, trying to perfect the victory roll hairdo; alas, her hair decided to be obnoxious today and was not cooperating. Darcy convinced herself that was okay, because if she had gone full 1940s, Steve might've spontaneously combusted.

So Darcy pulled her hair in a loose knot, and surveyed herself in the mirror. She had on a silky, navy blue dress with white polka dots. The dress had white buttons down the front of the top, with a modest neckline – well, as modest as a neckline will be with Darcy's breasts. It also had matching buttons running down the left side of the skirt (easy access, yeah!).

But the cincher to the outfit wasn't what was easily visible – it was the lingerie underneath. Darcy, after scouring lingerie stores in the city, had finally found the most wonderful set of navy blue lace-trimmed underthings: molded bra, mid-rise panties, and matching garter belt. She even had the back-seamed stockings and 4-inch ankle strap heels to make the outfit complete.

Logically, she knew that going a date with Steve was pretty much a guarantee that she wasn't going to get laid…but a girl can dream, can't she? And at least tempt?

7 o'clock – their agreed meet-up time – rolled around and Darcy swiped on a vibrant red lipstick, expecting Steve to knock at any moment. She adjusted a wayward curl, did a prance around her living room to make sure she was stable on her heels, and spritzed herself with perfume.

7:05: maybe Steve got held up.

7:10: Maybe Tony tried to give him dating advice, and he's too polite to tell him to fuck off.

7:15: okay, this is officially strange. Steve is the poster boy for promptness.

7:20: secondary high heel prance. Yup, still stable.

7:25: impatient clock check. WTF?

7:30: "JARVIS, would you happen to know where Captain Rogers is?" Darcy asked the AI.

"I believe he is at SHIELD still, Miss Lewis," JARVIS replied in an overly polite voice.

Of course, when Darcy goes to leave, it starts raining. So she goes back into the Tower, grabbing her trench coat and umbrella. Luckily, it's a light drizzle, so her shoes won't get ruined, but there's enough humidity to make her already unruly hair even crazier.

Is the universe trying to ruin her first date, or what?

At 8:15, Darcy arrived at SHIELD. She's starving and a little pissed off at being stood up and therefore, not in the best mood. Luckily, she runs into Clint right off the bat. "Where's Steve?" she asked him.

"Um…infirmary. There was an…incident today." Clint explained without really explaining anything.

Is that like some sort of assassin thing? "What kind of incident?" Darcy asked, concerned. "I didn't receive any notification of an event needing the Avengers as a response team."

"No, it was more personal for Steve than anything else. And maybe Nat…" Clint said, trailing off.

"Whatever." Darcy said, flapping her hands at him as she heads for the infirmary.

Darcy wasn't really expecting to see Steve in a hospital bed, but there he was – ugly hospital gown, head bandage and everything. He looked too adorably pathetic, and all of the anger that Darcy may have had towards being stood up dissipated as she saw him laying there, looking miserable.

"Hey soldier," she said quietly, leaning against the doorframe. "Did ya forget about me?"

"Darcy," he groaned. "I'm so sorry."

"What happened?"

"I have a concussion and two cracked ribs. They're insisting on keeping me for observation overnight." Steve said, the unhappiness at that plan apparent in his voice.

"How did that happen?" Darcy asked, because breaking a super soldier took a lot of work.

"That would be my fault, ma'am," said a sardonic voice, hiding in the shadows. Darcy managed to keep her cool as a dark haired man in jeans, motorcycle boots, and a leather jacket stepped forward from the other side of the hospital bed.

"And you are..." Darcy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"James Barnes," he said, tipping an imaginary hat.

"Ah," Darcy said, as the pieces fell into place. "AKA Bucky, according to Steve, and the Winter Soldier according to our lovely friends in the KGB. Do you have a preference?" she asked, unable to contain the snark in her last question.

"Bucky will work," he said, matching her snark tit for tat. "And you are…?" he asked, giving her an appraising once over, raising a mocking eyebrow at her unassuming trench coat.

Darcy smirked as she unbelted her coat, laid it over the arm of the chair, and leaned back against the door, dress hugging her curves as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Darcy Lewis. I babysit superheroes, force feed scientists and occasionally maim Norse gods." Darcy felt as if she had scored a point in their sparring match as she noticed Bucky was entranced by her rack, same as any other man.

"And you're here in an official capacity, to check up on poor Steve here?" he asked, the hint of a mischievous grin on his face.

"Oh no, I'm off the clock now," she said as she walked over and sat on the edge of Steve's hospital bed, between the two men.

"Bucky, play nice with Miss Lewis." Steve chastised his oldest friend.

Bucky grinned at him, then winked at Darcy. "Oh, I don't think we'll have a problem playing nice." He said smoothly. "Unless you're more of a naughty type…?"

Darcy gave a throaty laugh as she crossed her legs silkily. Watching his eyes trace the seams, she said, "Only if the occasion calls for it."

Steve's rib cracking back into place interrupted their snark/flirt fest. Darcy immediately turned to him, hiking up her skirt and curling one leg on the bed. "You okay, Cap?" she asked, concern in her voice.

He waved his hands. "Yes ma'am, I'm fine. Just gotta wait for everything to heal. It'll only take a few more hours."

Darcy scooted forward until she was sitting hip to hip with Steve on the bed, holding his hand. She couldn't help but smile at him while he blushed at her closeness. "Well, hurry it up soldier, because you are late for a very important date."

Bucky snorted as Steve gave her a confused look. Shooting daggers at Bucky, she patted Steve on the arm. "Note: we need to add Alice in Wonderland to your movie list." Turning back to Bucky, she glared at him. "And how exactly did you incapacitate my date? Because I worked really hard on this outfit and I'm gonna be pissed if it goes to waste."

"Apparently, not all of my triggers have been totally eradicated. Steve was there when I first came around and I…reacted without thinking." Bucky said, slightly ashamed.

Darcy shrugged. "Eh, shit happens. That's why there's a fire extinguisher, a first aid kit and a fifth of whiskey on every floor in Stark Tower. Solves every problem…or at least makes it suck less." At Bucky's incredulous look, she added, "Obviously, you haven't met Tony Stark yet.

Steve watched as his best friend (he couldn't quite reconcile Bucky with the Winter Soldier persona; he was first and foremost Bucky in Steve's mind) and Darcy exchanged witty barbs. It was almost eerie, how alike they were in their brashness and flirtatiousness.

But then again, maybe his concussed brain was seeing things.

"You look really pretty, Darcy," he said shyly, his concussed brain moving too slowly to filter his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bucky rolling his eyes at his awkwardness. Some things never change.

But Darcy just grinned at him. "Why thanks, Steve. I worked real hard on that tonight. I mean, check these babies out." Using his arm for support, Darcy swung her legs around until, weirdly enough, she was lying on his bed, her head at his knees, and her feet leaning against the wall by his shoulder. Steve watched, thoroughly entranced, as her skirt slid down her thighs, revealing the tops of her stocking and her garters – making her look exactly like a pin up girl.

In the corner of his lust addled mind, he could hear Bucky whistle appreciatively and ask him how he had managed to get a date with this girl, lucky bastard. Steve couldn't form a coherent thought by that point, let alone a full sentence. He just admired the curve of Darcy's thighs and the way her back arched against him and damn if he wasn't feeling warm in places that were…not uncomfortable, but not exactly opportune at the moment, either. Reaching out without thinking, he traced the seam from her calf to right above her knee. Steve felt his face growing warmer as a blush spread. If Darcy didn't slap if for being so forward…

Instead, Darcy giggled as he passed over the back of her knees – evidently, he had found a ticklish spot. "I know, right?" she joked as she spun back around into a seating position and sliding her skirt back down. "They're pretty much 100% awesome."

Bucky cleared his throat, drawing Steve's attention away from Darcy's neverending curves. "Miss Lewis," he drawled, making her name sound seductive in a way Steve never could emulate, "I could fill in for Steve here. I'm sure I can show you a good time," he added with a smirk that, in Steve's experience, was guaranteed to make dames forget about him and follow Bucky into the night.

Steve resigned himself to losing another date to Bucky. He was surprised – no, shocked – when Darcy turned down Bucky's offer. "I think I'll pass," she said in a voice that somehow implied disdain and appreciation in the same tone. "Steve, how about we hit up JARVIS for a movie? I can probably rig my tablet to the TV, and I'm sure I've got popcorn stashed somewhere in my office."

Steve nodded, and Darcy got up to dig in her bag for her electronics. Steve smiled to himself, ridiculously happy. For the first time in his long life, Bucky was getting a taste of what Steve had gone through; if finding some happiness at that thought was a bad thing, well…Steve was only human.

Darcy turned and gave Bucky a pointed look, trying to tell him to get the fuck out and let me seduce your friend, please and thank you. He gave her a shit-eating grin, pointedly ignoring the message she was trying to get across. Darcy rolled her eyes at his antics. "Barnes, can I show you back to wherever you're supposed to be on my way to get popcorn?" Darcy asked, faking the niceties.

Bucky just wiggled in his chair, pretending to get comfortable."Nah, l'm good. But make sure you get the kind with extra butter," he said cheekily.

Darcy stood, hands on her hips as she held her tablet. Giving Bucky her best impression of a Fury glare, she gestured at the door. "This is a date, darlin'," she drawled, "not a group party. See you around."

They had a staring contest, and after a few minutes, Steve finally broke it. "If you don't mind, Bucky…?" he asked tentatively. "We can catch up tomorrow. Plus, I'm sure Natasha wants to talk to you."

Bucky grimaced. "Yeah, talk…I'm sure." Stretching (and Darcy isn't ashamed to admit she totally got a glimpse of his abs and dayummm, son), he stood and walked towards the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, punk," he tossed over his shoulder.

"Which is what, exactly?" Steve asked. "Jerk," he added laughingly.

Bucky waved and left, leaving the two alone. "I can leave and send him back if you would rather catch up. I'd totally understand." Darcy said, suddenly feeling guilty about hogging Steve when his supposedly dead best friend returned from the grave.

(What was it with SHIELD? Did no one stay dead?)

Steve shook his head. "I've already missed one important date. I'd really like to not miss another," he said earnestly, albeit shyly.

Darcy about died on the inside. "Um...okay," she said, trying to hide how insanely flattered she was. "Chinese food?"

Within twenty minutes, the takeout arrived (oh, the miracles of super secret government powers), and Darcy had found what she decided was the best date movie ever on JARVIS's network.

She walked back over to Steve. "So, which is your uninjured side?" He pointed at his left side, and Darcy sat down on the edge of the bed, unbuckling her shoes. As he held the food, she lifted the blankets and slid into the bed next to him. (Thank the gods for overly large superheroes who need plus size hospital beds.) Taking back her carton of chicken fried rice, she started The Princess Bride.

They ate their food in silence, occasionally interspersed with Darcy quoting along with the movie or Steve asking a question. About the time Buttercup was getting kidnapped, they had finished their food, so Darcy sat the empty containers on the floor.

Abandoning any pretense of formality, she lifted Steve's arm (unf, biceps, drool) and looped it over her shoulders. As he tensed up, she curled up on his chest. "Relax, Steve," she said, patting his pectoral (okay, maybe she felt him up a little bit, don't judge).

As Fezzik started rhyming, Darcy could feel Steve relaxing, and by the time the eels attack, they are comfortably entwined – or, at least as comfortable as you can be in a hospital bed.

It's not exactly the date either one of them were planning on, but it's somehow better than that.