This is the longest chapter yet! I think there are about three chapters to go.
I've compiled a playlist. You can look for it on Tumblr under my 'music I like' tag, since FFnet doesn't like links. I'd definitely recommend the song I named the story after, which is by Stevie Nicks and can be found on YouTube in various versions.
Darcy's re-evaluating her opinion on night shifts. She's just completed one, despite them not being a requirement for her role, because her friend Sarah needed the weekend off to go home for her cousin's wedding. It means Darcy's going to lose most of her Saturday to sleeping, but at least she had a valid for getting out of last night's date with Greg. In fact, she'd used it as an excuse to let him down gently. He'd known it was coming, since it was the second week in a row she'd canceled, and hadn't seemed too bummed.
Jane already has bachelor number three on standby. He's an Irish geneticist on Helen's team.
"He's a really good guy, Darce. Smart, funny, seriously good-looking, killer accent."
"Then why is he single?"
"You know how it is," Jane replies with a shrug. "People don't like to get involved when their marks are still black."
So Darcy already has a date lined up for this Friday. She shuffles through the door to her quarters and pokes at the buttons which close the blackout blinds, before kicking her shoes off and stumbling towards her bedroom.
On the bedside table she has a little calendar, one she has to flip every day to get a cute photo of a baby animal. She slops onto the bed but doesn't shut her eyes before turning to this morning's picture, which is a tiny Labrador puppy on its back. Below it, past Darcy has scribbled the words "seven months".
Oh. Right.
That means it's been about five months since she made the decision to give it a year and leave. She'd gone through the calendar and written milestones for herself, as a reminder for when things got rough.
Things aren't rough, just complicated, especially with her realization about the depths of her feelings for Bucky. She's nearly halfway through the year. Maybe it's not too early to ask for that transfer?
No. Not before Rumlow's caught. Their intel says he has it in for Steve because of the injuries he sustained when the Triskelion was destroyed, and he knows going after Bucky would hurt Steve more than physical pain ever would.
Steve would never forgive her for walking away and letting someone else cover Bucky, no matter how capable that other person was. And she's come to see Steve as a friend too.
What is her life?
She screws her eyes shut and focuses on a calming technique Dr Banner taught her, relaxing from her toes upwards. She needs to sleep, there's another shift to get through tonight. If she's lucky, Rumlow will turn up so they can kick his ass, and close that chapter.
Sean, the inexplicably-single scientist, actually seeks her out before their date, turning up in her office with a latte. He's tall and slim, with messy hair, cheekbones like razorblades, and a lopsided smile.
"I asked Helen what you like," he says, offering her the coffee cup. "It's an excuse to meet you. I'm not great with new people, so I thought it might be easier to be awkward somewhere we can make an easy escape from, rather than being stuck with each other for hours."
He's blushing by the time he's finished rambling, and Darcy realizes she's grinning at him. Jane hadn't been wrong about the accent. "Did Helen tell you my affection can be bought with caffeine?"
"She may have said something to that effect, yes."
"Did she tell you anything else?"
"A few things, but I'm keeping them under wraps for when I need the big guns." He drops to a dramatic whisper. "Cadbury's."
She widens her eyes dramatically. "The dirty traitor."
He shrugs. "I know her weaknesses to, it makes her pliable. But you should know I have my sources and can absolutely hook you up with good chocolate. Please remember that when I make a fool of myself on Friday."
Darcy laughs. "Sure, I'll try to go easy on you. Thanks for the coffee."
He leaves her to nurse the latte. That was too easy. She'd almost found herself flirting with him, and misgivings creep in. It's one thing to date a guy with little mutual interest, but is dating a guy she has obvious chemistry with crossing a line?
She ignores her better instincts when she meets him at the movie theater—the little one Steve and Bucky went to—and he admits he noticed her around the facility before Jane ever put out feelers.
"You're the cool girl," he says. "You hang out with the Avengers, and you're friends with Jane and Helen. They listen to you. Everyone's in awe."
"See, when I was in high school, being friends with the nerds just made you another nerd."
"Yes, but being a nerd is a step above being a dork, so you outclass the rest of us science peons. And you have touched Thor's bicep, which surely imbues you with some kind of contact-godliness."
"Nah, that's entirely my own."
They giggle together the whole evening, and for once she decides to forgo leaving early enough to deliver food to the common room. Instead, they grab a booth in a diner, swapping stories about science mishaps over fried food and milkshakes.
She's easily forgiven when she swings by the common room the next morning with a batch of homemade cupcakes. Bucky's waiting for her with coffee, a detail she almost misses because she's in the middle of texting Sean. She puts the phone away and concentrates on the people around her.
"Well, hey there, dirty stop-out," Nat teases, setting up a Monopoly board. (Darcy can see a fist-fight occurring in the near future; nobody loses gracefully at Monopoly).
"I was home by midnight, mom."
"Really? I'm so disappointed in you."
Darcy flips her off, and Nat blows her a kiss in return.
"I don't think what Darcy does is any of our business," Steve interrupts, clearly trying to move away from a topic which has Bucky fidgeting.
"You've changed your tune," Nat says, ignoring Darcy's warning look. "You used to want a detailed itinerary when she left the facility."
"It may have been pointed out to me that Darcy is a grown woman who can look after herself and make her own choices." Darcy doesn't need to guess who did the pointing; Bucky's narrowing his eyes at Steve. "So long as she always has her taser on her."
"Aye aye captain!" Darcy even salutes him. "And Nat taught me how to break out of a guy's hold long enough to get to the taser."
"You did?" Steve's distracted enough that he misses Nat allocating herself extra cash. Bucky, however, does not. He holds out an expectant hand, waiting for her to hand it all over.
"Steve's banker," he decrees, and Nat rolls her eyes but doesn't argue. Steve's the only one honest enough not to abuse the position. Nat will have to find other ways to cheat.
"Thor was trying to teach her self-defense," she says, "but he was coming at it all wrong. He forgot Darcy can't just punch a guy in the face and give him brain damage. I showed her some actually useful moves."
"I can't choke anyone with my thighs, but my ball-kneeing technique has been rated superb," Darcy adds gleefully.
Both Steve and Bucky splutter at the image, and Darcy steers the conversation into calmer waters.
Darcy goes home for her birthday, despite the fact that Tony begs her to let him throw her a party. She placates him by telling him he can throw a party anyway, and he doesn't even have to pretend it's for her. She needs to spend some time with her parents, since it's so infrequently that she manages to do so.
She has a quiet meal with her Science Family—Jane, Thor, Erik—before she leaves, and then a bigger meal with the Avengers where she's swamped with cards and presents. Sean passes on a massive slab of Cadbury's via Jane. Even Nat, who's out in the field, has left something for her. It's a weapon, naturally, a set of the tiny taser disks that she uses with her Widow's Bites. These ones don't need Widow's Bites to work, intended to be disposable. Bucky nods his approval when he sees them.
"She used one of those on my arm, once," he tells her after the meal. He's the only one who hasn't given her a present yet, and Darcy gets the sense he wants to do it in private, which is why he's walked her back to her quarters.
She invites him inside, and he pulls a card and small parcel from the front pocket of his hoodie. The card's a hand-drawn doodle, obviously part of a set with the one Steve gave her. In this one, she's eating a massive cake. In the other one, she was surrounded by a mound of torn wrapping paper and balloons. She grins at the card and adds it to her pile without reading the message inside.
She takes the parcel and pulls on the end of the bow on top of it. "Did you wrap this?"
"YouTube," he mumbles in response.
She snickers, and the bow comes apart, leaving her with a length of purple ribbon. He fidgets as she finds the edge of the wrapping paper and slowly pulls it apart, rather than tearing into it, but she wants to respect the effort he put into decorating it.
There's a velvet box inside, too big to make her panic. Instead, when she flips the lid open, there's a necklace inside: delicate, silver filigree, with a cluster of crystals forming a pendant. She gasps at how pretty it is.
"It's functional," he says quickly. "You can crush any of the crystals, and it works like a panic button. It'll alert us and we can track you down. I asked Tony to make it."
She flings her arms around him, forgetting that surprise contact isn't always the best idea around Bucky. He stiffens for a moment, before his arms snake around her back, pulling her even tighter against him, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. She can feel his breath against her skin, and she has goosebumps everywhere, despite the fact that he's so warm where they're pressed together. Warm and solid.
"You like it?" he asks, the words directed into her hair, and she pulls away to grin up at him.
"It's amazing. Tony tried to hand out bracelets with panic buttons but they were horrible gaudy things. This I will actually wear."
"Starting tomorrow, when you go home?"
"Starting tomorrow, when I go home," she parrots.
It's only later on, when she's finished packing for the trip, and has started arranging the cards on her coffee table, that she reads the message he's written in her card.
Dear Darcy,
I hope you have a wonderful day, though I wish I got to spend it with you. You've become one of the most important people in my life in such a short space of time. You deserve a special day,
Love Bucky.
He's finished with three kisses. She clutches the card to her chest before slipping it into her purse.
She wasn't planning on mentioning Bucky or the whole soulmate deal to her parents. In fact, she tells them about Sean instead, and how it's early days but how nice he is. They're only two dates in but Darcy knows in a parallel universe, where soulmarks didn't exist, she'd be thinking long term about him. Her mother's thrilled, right until she walks into Darcy's old bedroom without knocking and catches sight of the exposed soulmark as she's changing.
"No wonder you're so excited about this guy!" she exclaims, her smile brightening as she takes in the silver tint of the lettering.
Darcy freezes, then takes a deep breath. "No, Sean didn't say these."
"What do you mean? If it wasn't him, why are you dating him?"
Darcy finishes pulling her jeans on before answering. "I'm not going to have a relationship with my soulmate."
Her mother gasps, hands flying up to cover her mouth. "On purpose? You do—you do know who he is, don't you? Your father and I will pay if you need someone to track him down…"
She's talking about hiring an investigator, the kind people use to track down soulmates they've met and not got contact details for.
"No, mom, I know who he is. It's just very complicated."
So she tells each other everything. She cries, her mother cries, her father finds out and while he doesn't cry, he gets very somber. As birthdays go, even her mother's excellent cake can't really salvage it.
She decides to cut the trip home short, citing a mountain of work that needs doing, and it's not entirely a lie. When the quinjet touches down to pick her up, she hugs her parents goodbye in their yard.
"You come home if you ever need space," her mother says. "I won't press you to talk about it if you don't want to, but it would be lovely to see you more often."
"Thanks mom. I may end up taking you up on that offer."
"Is that Captain America?" her father asks in bewilderment as the ramp touches down, recognizing Steve immediately even though he's in his civvies. Barton flew her down, but apparently her boys have come to take her home. Bucky's next to Steve, looking a little more uncomfortable. Her mother's question is quieter.
"Is that him?"
Darcy nods, then grabs her things. "I'll definitely be back for Christmas!" she says in parting, heading up the ramp rather than letting the guys come down to meet her. The last thing she needs is her mother giving the game away with big sorrowful eyes in Bucky's direction. She also doesn't really want to introduce Bucky to her parents; it would feel too close to bringing a boyfriend home.
Bucky's got flour on his jeans. He won't tell her why, until they get back to the common room and there's a cake waiting for her, Happy Birthday Darcy piped clumsily on top. She claps her hands with joy and cuts it up for everyone.
"I'll make you one for your birthday," she promises him, but he pulls a face.
"I don't even know how old I technically am. Do I count from the year I was born, or do I count up to when I fell and add on a few years to make up for time out of cryo?"
"Call it 21 and have done with it. That's what I do. My grandma was 21 until she died—it's a family tradition I'll let you borrow."
Cake demolished, she heads to her office, where there are messages from Nat waiting. She's still out in the field, and her gut instinct tells her that Rumlow is planning something, even if she can't get a solid lead on his trail. He's using decoys, and even Nat can't be in three places at once. One of the other field agents has called a tip-off in from Chicago, and Nat's not happy about it.
"Steve's insisting they head out, even though he's aware I think it's a wild goose chase. He won't leave any stone unturned."
"When?"
"This afternoon."
At least it's not a night raid.
Darcy's position as Bucky's handler has never been revoked. It's only his third mission with the team, the second being a relatively simple clear out of an abandoned base, and she thinks she can justify keeping the position, especially with Nat's doubts. She takes the opportunity to scan the area before the team head out, suggesting what she thinks will be good spots on high ground for Bucky and Barton, with few access points. It should prevent an ambush, but Sam's going to stay in the air, shifting between the pair of them if he needs to.
She's a bag of nerves, despite the fact it's broad daylight this time. Bucky agrees with the rooftop position she's selected, and this time she's also managed to get a camera up there, dropped in place by Sam, so she's not relying on street-level surveillance to alert her if something goes wrong.
There's no sign of Rumlow, or his decoy. Maybe they left it too long to make a move, but by the amount of dust inside—according to the photos she sees during the debrief—no one's spent any amount of time in that warehouse for a while.
At least she got to stare at Bucky in full tactical gear for an hour.
The failure leaves the whole team on edge, and Nat refuses to come home just yet. She thinks she's got the identity of one of the decoys. Darcy almost feels sorry for the decoy, now that Nat's on his trail like a bloodhound.
Bucky's withdrawn, going straight to the gym to take his frustration out on several poor, unsuspecting punching bags, returning as most people are heading to bed. He's showered, his hair still damp, and he carries the scent of his shampoo around him like a cloud.
"Can you find out if I was ever there?" he asks Darcy. "That place…it's niggling at me. Like it was familiar."
She gnaws at her lower lip. "It might be in your file." She means the infamous Hydra/KGB file, rather than the one the Avengers Initiative has for its staff members. "I've never looked in it, I don't even think I have the clearance for that."
"Steve can get you the clearance." From the way he flinches, he's regretting suggesting that. If she looks in his file, she'll be able to read about every assassination he was involved in. She's more worried about seeing all the things they put him through. She knows there are photos.
"I can't read Russian though," she points out. His relief at this stumbling block is palpable. "We can wait for Nat to return, or maybe Friday can give you a private report?"
He shakes his head. "It's not available electronically." Darcy guesses that's because it can't be hacked into if it only exists on paper. "I'll wait for Nat. It's not that important."
"Nobody found anything except dust, so it can't be too significant. Rumlow's just trying to get under your skin. He's probably jealous that you actually have some."
He snorts. "If you ever meet him, please crush all the crystals on your pendant and try not to say anything. I think you might annoy him."
"That's why I plan on never meeting him. And between you and me, I know the official plan is to bring him in alive, but I won't lose any sleep if somebody has to put a bullet in his brain."
"Me either. In fact, I'd sleep easier."
Can you tell Sean to stop talking about you? I already know most of this stuff.
The grumpy text comes from Helen on Monday afternoon following another Friday night at the diner. It amplifies Darcy's worries about dating Sean, especially since he hasn't stopped texting her all weekend.
He drops by every day with a coffee. So does Bucky. She doesn't have the heart to tell either of them that her increased caffeine intake is not doing her sleeping pattern any favors.
She also doesn't cancel her upcoming date with Sean. He's enthusiastic, but he's not pushy, and she can't be sure he's romantically interested. He could just be looking for a friend outside the small circle of science technicians. She enjoys his company, and going out with him is a welcome break from everything the facility represented. She'd like that again, even if only for one night.
She regrets rationalizing it ten minutes into the date. He's taken her to a restaurant—not exactly a fancy-pants one, but she'd feel more comfortable in pumps and a dress than the sneakers and jeans she has on. It's definitely not a diner or burger joint. He hasn't bought her flowers, and for that she's thankful. He also doesn't offer to pull out her seat. She doesn't deduct points in comparison with other people.
"I hope you like Italian," he says as he sits down across from her. There's a candle on the table, and wine glasses. She makes a firm decision to stick to Coke.
"Sure, who doesn't?"
"I know we were looking to go somewhere more casual, but this came with a good recommendation."
He didn't tell her ahead of time, giving her fair warning to dress up, so she wouldn't cancel. She knows this, and she finds it charming. She finds everything about him charming, because he's so obviously nervous and wanting to impress her. If it weren't for her stupid words, she'd be walking on air that someone like Sean was interested in her.
There's not even going to be a friendship to salvage out of this. She pretty damn sure that's not what he wants.
She skips ordering an appetizer and dessert, despite wanting one of everything on the menu, because she wants this over as quickly as possible. Sean's confused at her turning down food, but she assures him she isn't hungry. Despite that, the conversation flows easily between them, even on the drive home.
It's when they reach the parking garage that things start to go exactly as Darcy feared.
He walks her to the elevator, but stands in front of the call button without pressing it. "I had a lovely night," he says. He's got a soft smile on his face, and she knows what's coming. "Can I kiss you?"
She looks down at the floor and screws her eyes shut, but then realizes she needs to look him in the eye when she responds. He deserves better than her cowardice. She opens them and peers up at him. "I don't think that's a good idea."
All the confidence leaches out of him, his face crumpling at the unexpected rejection. "Oh. I thought things were going well. I must have misunderstood—"
She shakes her head. "You didn't. I'm just not looking for anything serious, and I think you should know that now. I don't want a relationship with you."
He's quiet, processing her words, so when he finally responds he manages to blindside her.
"You said my words."
She has a moment of panic—could the universe get more twisted? But his confession rings hollow; no one could have been that nonchalant when hearing their words, not the way he'd been during their first conversation. She folds her arms. "Prove it." When he doesn't respond, doesn't move, she nods in grim satisfaction. "Thought so."
"You knew already." Now he looks crestfallen, defeated.
"We both knew, or we'd have said something when we first met."
"Please, Darcy. We could still make it work…"
She feels guilty, because she has been using him. She didn't want to, but it hasn't been the same as Craig or Greg. There was a spark between them, and if it wasn't for her words, she'd have wanted to explore it, soulmark be damned. It's the guilt that spurs her confession. "I've met him, okay? I've met him and we're not together—we'll never be together."
He looks like he's been slapped, then gathers a breath. "Sounds like a tough situation. I wish you'd told me."
"It's complicated. But I've not been fair to you, and I'm sorry. You deserve better."
He doesn't argue with her, and she reaches around him to call the elevator. It arrives within seconds, bless Tony Stark, and she reaches up to brush a kiss to Sean's cheek before she steps inside.
"I'd like to be your friend," she says, as gently as she can manage, "but I don't think that's in the cards for us. Take care of yourself."
She hugs herself on the walk back to her quarters, but decides to detour via Starkbucks for a slab of cake. She didn't get dessert and she needs comfort food. It's why it takes her a few seconds to realize she's not alone when she reaches her rooms—she's too busy rummaging in the kitchen drawer for a spoon.
There's movement out of the corner of her eye, a glint of metal. She drops the cake to the counter and spins to face the living room. Bucky is over by the window, staring at her. The room is in darkness so it's hard to read his expression.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he begins. He pauses to consider his next words. "I know you can protect yourself, but he was very interested in you. He came to your office a lot and asked people about you. The others didn't."
She feels a cold sweat forming, wondering how much he saw, what he heard. "Bucky…"
"I only followed to make sure you were safe, but I stayed far away. I knew you'd want privacy. I won't do it again. But afterwards…I thought you might need some company."
"So you somehow overrode the security protocols for my quarters? Tony is going to have a meltdown when he realizes you can do that."
His mouth quirks, but he's still staring at her. It's sympathy, she realizes. It's the first time he's ever looked at her that way.
"I am an asshole," she says, leaning back against the counter and hanging her head. "I knew he liked me more than I liked him, but I hoped I was wrong."
He creeps closer. "You're not an asshole. You'd been on a few dates with him, you didn't owe him anything. Anyway, I'm glad you're okay. Thought it might get rough for a moment."
"No, he was a good guy. It would have been easier if he had turned out to be Hydra."
Silence reigns for a minute, but Bucky has to bring it up.
"I heard about your mark." She nods tersely at him, chewing on her lip. "I guess it makes sense. Explains why—" But he shakes his head and doesn't finish.
She holds her breath, waits for him to ask questions—who?, when?—or for him to put the pieces together, but this time, the silence stretches on. "I think I'm just going to go to bed," she says, to fill the quiet, to control the urge to babble.
He nods and moves to the door, resting his hand on her shoulder for a reassuring squeeze as he passes. She almost tells him. Almost lets the confession slip out, tells him who exactly it was who said her words, but fear keeps her silent.
It's gone on too long to tell him now.
"Night, Darcy. Enjoy your cake."