Steve was part mortified and part disappointed that the impromptu moment of fun had been interrupted. He whipped around, tensing as Darcy breathlessly laughed with her hands flat against his lower back. It took a second to wipe the water from his eyes with his free hand, and when he did, he saw who it was who had walked in on them.

Sam Wilson, his newest friend and partner, was standing at the door, arms crossed casually. Steve might have been worried had it not been for the knowing smile on the other man's face.

"Hey Sam." He greeted awkwardly, shifting to his other foot. For the first time since being here, Steve hoped there wasn't an assignment of some sort. Not after he had started to feel like a normal guy for once. Of course if it were about finding Bucky…

"Hey there, Buddy. Am I interrupting?" The other man asked, his smile broadening.

Steve realized then, that he'd yet to put Darcy down and hurried to gently settle her onto the counter. There was a split second where he stood between her legs as she untwined her arms, but he couldn't look her in the face, so embarrassed by his carelessness.

He moved away quickly, striding to the door in what he hoped was a nonchalant gait. Sam, however, just raised a brow with his eyes over his shoulder.

Steve knew what he'd see. A beautiful dark haired girl, thoroughly soaked. The purple shirt was very thin, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her face would be flushed with laughter and a mischievous gleam in her eyes making her irresistible.

He felt a flash of… Jealousy? That can't be right. Maybe protectiveness.

"Something you need me for?" He asked, his voice was a little firmer than he'd intended but it got Sam's eyes back to him.

"Was wondering about sparing today since Natasha is out helping Clint." The young man said distractedly, brown eyes drifting back to Darcy. Steve could hear her climbing off the counter and padding barefoot towards them.

"Hey, can I watch?! I've always wanted to see two hunks fisticuff." Her hands came up in two balled fists, as if to show them her meaning. "I can pretend you're fighting over me." She said wistfully as her hand wrapped around Steve's forearm, eyes fluttering dramatically. He looked down at her with a wry smile, while trying to ignore the way her simple touch was burning him alive. Damn. What was it about this girl?

"Um, yea. I don't see why not." Steve couldn't help but grin softly at the way her blue green eyes lit up. She winked at him and turned her blushing face to Sam.

Again, the flash of something suspiciously like jealousy twisted his gut but he ignored it. Mostly.

Darcy stuck her hand out, smiling politely when his friend took it. He was a little more than happy that her smile was different. Those lovely red lips curved up in a genuine smile, but didn't really grin. And her eyes didn't shine quite like they did when she joked with him. Then again, he could be imaging it all in the hope that she saved special smiles for him.

What?

"I'm Darcy Lewis; assistant extraordinaire, poli-sci dropout, and she-who-tasered-Thor." She recited, her voice low and charming as she moved a little closer to him, their hands mere centimeters away.

"I can see why he's been hanging around here." Sam smiled smoothly, eyes moving between the two of them. "I'm Sam Wilson."

1230 Hours – Stark's Private Gym. 4 floors below ground

Steve didn't spar often, not because he didn't enjoy it, but rather it was not easy to find someone who could match his super-serum self. Sam, however, had developed a routine which involved a mix of machine training, and hand to hand with new martial arts techniques. Steve might be incredibly strong, but he had to keep up with the way the world fought.

Most of the time he liked to use his fists and shield, but today he was pulling out all the stops. He told himself it wasn't because of the beauty that sat a short distance away. That is wasn't because of the way she cheered and laughed when he managed to get his shield stuck in the ceiling, nearly 30 feet above their heads. And defiantly not because she whistled like a sailor when he removed his sweaty t-shirt to replace it with a clean one, making his face flush.

How did this one lady have him feeling like an awkward teen again?

There had been once or twice where he had hit Sam a little harder than necessary but the young man had been sneaking peaks at Darcy and ever since she changed out of her wet clothes and into dry ones, he found he was equally hard pressed to not look. Didn't make it ok, though.

She was wearing those jeans that hugged every curve and fit like a glove. Her top was a thick knit sweater but with her more than average bust size, it didn't leave much to the imagination.

So he tried to distract himself with a full workout, making Sam keep his eyes on him for as much time as possible. Steve felt pangs of guilt about his behavior, but something about her inspired these out of character actions.

After several more minutes of Sam and him whipping around, kicking, tossing, and generally abusing one another, Steve called it in. Sam grunted a small, thank god, but smiled anyway as he allowed Steve to help him up off the mat.

"Awe pooh! You're all done?" Darcy called from across the room, her face in an adorable pout. Lips made for kissing, if you asked him.

Still, he shook his head, not sure why in the midst of his chaotic life he felt the need to admire over this lady. She sort blew into his life like a hurricane.

"Yes ma'am." He replied bashfully, having instinctively jogging over to her. Sam gave him them cheeky grin and waved, leaving for the lockers. The young man must have gotten the hint. Steve will have to apologize for his rude behavior but right now, there was something else begging for his attention.

"Ah well. I enjoyed the show. Too bad I don't have any singles." Darcy chuckled, uncurling herself and hoping down off the bench. "I am starving though, so I'm going to make some dinner. Want to join me?"

Did he ever.

1530 Hours – Darcy's Apartment

When he said he'd love to join her, he had no idea it would be in her personal rooms. He had assumed that they'd go on over to the fully stocked kitchen where they had first met. But Darcy, the sly devil, had punched in her floor number as soon as they entered the elevator, keeping him distracted with conversation about his favorite foods.

He could lose himself talking with her, letting her listen to him and respond with one of her endless witty responses. She was charming him; that was for sure. If only he knew it was intentional and not just a part of who she was with everyone.

"Well, this is my Stark issued abode!" She said cheerfully, tossing her keys on a simple, but cluttered table. "Sorry about the mess. I had to move all my junk from New Mexico here and haven't really had time to unpack all of my stuff. I've done all of Janes though."

Steve remained in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. The apartment was not as large as his but was just as luxurious. The dolled up kitchen was open to the large living area where two comfortable brown couches lay facing an even larger television. There was a small hall to the left where three doors could be found, a bathroom, spare room, and her bedroom.

He looked back to find Darcy sitting on the kitchen counter by the entrance, and he briefly wondered why she always sat on tables and counters rather than chairs. She had her head tilted and was looking at him with puzzlement and laughter in her eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering if this was a good idea.

"Don't tell me the indestructible boy scout is afraid of little old innocent me." She gasped, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

Too bad he knew a bad situation when he saw one, and he wasn't about to put himself in an awkward position of sitting in her apartment drooling over her like a pup with a bone. No matter the fact that her cheeks were pink and she had a tempting gleam in her eyes.

He wasn't going to raise to her bait, he told himself sternly.

No way. He was going to politely leave. Turn around and go before he makes a fool of himself.

1600 Hours – Darcy's Apartment.

Steve Rogers was sitting very uncomfortably at Darcy's dining table. She had gleefully started cooking when he stumbled inside, closing the door to this awkward fate.

Now, he couldn't move if he wanted too, so enthralled by the very sight of her.

Her body was all curves and made of pure sin, he thought as she danced around her kitchen. This woman thought it would be perfectly ok to wear the shortest shorts he'd ever seen, miles of milky skin bare for his torture. She at least had the heart to wear an apron over her tight fitting t-shirt, though he was absurdly pleased to see it was Captain America one with his shield on it.

"How many of those shirts do you own?" He managed to ask, attempting to lighten the mood. Well, at least his mood. She seemed completely unfazed by their situation, in her element with pots and pans and ingredients spread all over. Chaotic, just like her.

"I own a few of yours. One of Ironman's, a few hulks. And of course, I've got like, twenty of Thor's. Jane keeps buying them for me." She called over her shoulder. He smiled, liking the way she hummed while stirring what smelled like tomato sauce.

"I also have the Black Widows cat suit." She tossed over her shoulder as if it were an afterthought.

Steve couldn't help but cough violently, the tremors of surprise raking his body were almost as painful as the juncture between his legs. He could have lived the rest of his life comfortably not having that glorious image, all those round curve tucked inside that snug little leather suit, burned into his mind.

And the little devil was smirking, though she tried to hide it. Good god, this woman was doing this on purpose! She wanted to see him sweat. He thought they had been teasing and flirting before, but this was a whole new level of inappropriate behavior. He was the pinnacle of truth, justice and the American way! He wasn't supposed to flirt recklessly.

Steven Grant Rogers took a second to catch his breath before he smiled roguishly, developing a battle plan.

Darcy was not unaffected by him, that he knew for sure.

So if it's war she wanted, its war she'll get.