She knew it would happen eventually. The stupid ringing, the "the worlds in danger, we need the Hero!" phone call.
She just hated that it was another damn interruption. She was just starting to feel completely comfortable around her all American boyfriend. Now he's tossing on his suit as she sat in the bed they made crazy (holy hell don't blush Darcy) naughty time in. The old cotton sheets were still warm to the touch, as he had only just jumped out of the king sized bed to dash around the room.
He kept shooting her looks. She knew what they were. It screamed, I'm so sorry don't want to leave but duty calls. He was like an open book and she kinda needed that right now since moments ago he had been stone faced and all army general with the mysterious female voice on the emergency phone.
She looked around and caught sight of his mask, sitting on the shelf of the hidden closet that popped out when Steve punched in some numbers into an even hidden-ier key pad.
He was still buckling his boots as she padded, naked and nervous, over to the symbolic helmet. With shaking hands but a steely heart, she lifted it gently as if it were a priceless artifact. Which, now that she thought about it, was more truth than anything.
Dracy hadn't wanted to let him go. Hell, she almost begged him to stay, but she knew if she was going to be the woman her grandma raised her to be, she'd have to support her hero. Because it was a part of him. An essential piece that she had thought heavily about and had decided, most stubbornly, that she would accept because Steve Rogers was worth it.
So, brave faced but teary eyed, she turned to find his piercing blue gaze resting on her. Come on girl, do it for him.
One step, then the next. And another until she came to stand before him, her eyes resting on the large star on his chest. Her own heart felt heavy, knowing that this was a strange pivotal test of some sort. One she had refused to think about. Had she only just met him? Yup. And here she was, not prepared for a damn thing.
But her man… oh this guy that she happened upon one fateful, coffee driven morning, was something else.
He gently held her chin and brought her face to his. It was a sweet kiss, almost chaste. One unlike any they had shared. A promise. OR she was just being a dramatic baby who was pouting 'cause her man had to go to work. Good, keep the humor up now and then cry later…
"I'll come back." He mumbled against her lips, putting to words the kiss they shared. She rested her forehead against his chin, still clutching the helmet to her breast.
"I'll be here." She sighed, finally composing herself. Looking up into his eyes, she smiled ruefully. "It's not like I even know how to get back or where I am."
The look of shocked realization was almost too much, and she took advantage of his stuttering to secure the cap onto his fluffy blond head, letting him strap it himself.
"I can send someone-," He started, but she knew he'd hate having anyone know where his hideaway was. Plus she didn't want to leave. Not without him.
"Yea right." She grinned, taking his hand and bravely (and still quite nakedly) marched him to the cabins door. "I'll see you when you get done saving the world." She smiled again, as his eyes reluctantly left her body, to find her own gaze.
"Yes, Ma'am." He chuckled, the tension he'd been wearing easing a bit from his broad shoulders. And then he was gone, moving faster than she thought possible. The sound of his bike roaring to life made her jump but she kept the door open, watching as his figure disappeared through the trees and further still until she couldn't even hear the low rumble of his motorcycle.
Finally, after much too long, she closed the door and headed straight back to the only bedroom and climbed into the large bed. She pulled up the flannel blankets and hugged his pillow, smelling soap and leather and everything Steve. And she cried.
Darcy knew it was stupid. Kind of felt embarrassed by it, but the facts were just now hitting her like a ton of star-spangled bricks.
She was dating a superhero. A man who would be in constant danger and always on call for the world's most dangerous jobs. She committed her heart and there's one thing about the Lewis women, it's that they follow that stupid organ all the way to hell and back.
So here she is, waiting, nervous and confused, clutching his pillow like a life line wishing she had someone to talk to. Her b.f.f. was otherwise preoccupied in Asgaurd, chilling with Ye Gods of Olde while Darce is sobbing like a teen over her first crush.
Damn it.
She managed to put herself together enough to slap on some clothes and wander to the kitchen area. She might be sad but she was also human and this woman wanted some food. Maybe something sweet. Like a dozen doughnuts.
The fridge was nearly bare except for the few things that lasted well. A dozen cans of lemonade, a couple condiments. Her cussing increased when the freezer yielded similar results.
It was after a few moments of grumbling when a voice overhead sounded. Jarvis, the lovely A.I. in Stark towers seemed to be programed into the cabin as well.
"Ms. Lewis, shall I direct you to the pantry? There is a larger selection of foods there." He said in the refined voice of his.
Darcy, however, forgot about the food for a moment and realized something peculiar and kind of upsetting. Hands on hips, she wasn't quite sure where to look but she did her best to look stern and disapproving.
"Hay Jarvis. Does Steve know you are here in his hideout?" She questioned, looking up at the ceiling as if shed see a disembodied butler floating up there.
There was a long pause and she would have bet money that the A.I. was a bit uncomfortable.
"No Ms. Lewis, I don't believe he does." She was about to start on one hell of a crazy rant about privacy and trust when Jarvis interrupted.
"Tony, nor any of the others know of this location. I was, however, asked to ensure The Captain was safe. I assure you, Ms. Lewis, there was no foul intention."
Even so, Darcy was not happy. But she did understand. If Steve disappeared, the folks higher up would freak out, not knowing where he was or if he was even ok. She'd be in the same boat.
She grumbled darkly as she found the pantry and raided its impressive stack of junk food. She'd have to thank Steve later for keeping some yummy goods hidden away.
She smiled, thinking about one of their first meetings. He made her breakfast. If she were honest with herself, she'd say she loved him even then. Maybe not the same as now, but he had a way of sneaking in and settling his cute blond locks in her heart.
Darcy had made it back to the large rustic bed and settled in with a bag of chips and a root beer when she sighed, looking around her.
"I wish I could talk to Jane." She sighed, knowing no one could hear her pitiful words.
That is, at least she didn't think anyone heard her.
Darcy had always wanted to walk the rainbow bridge to the fabled land of Asgaurd. She did not, however, want to be flung, half naked, covered in lays potato chips, across the freaking universe screaming like a bloody banshee.
The world went from normal to a chaotic riot of lights and blinding color, merging into a golden blur.
When the longest seconds of her life were over, she was kneeling at the feet of one very tall, very intimidating God holding fast to a crazy large sword.