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Home, she thought as she turned the tap off with her toes and sank deeper into the bath. It wasn’t even her apartment, but Darcy felt more at home in Steve’s space than she did in the little box that her mail was addressed to. Steve wouldn’t be back from a scheduled meeting at HQ for another hour, so she was reveling in the quiet that her place didn’t have.


The bathroom door pushed open, and Darcy tensed until Canary meowed in greeting and leapt up on top of the laundry basket on top of Darcy’s clean clothes. “Get off my clothes.”


Canary narrowed  her eyes, the tip of her tail twitching back and forth, and she raised her paw to clean the fur.


“Don’t look at me like that, fleabag,” Darcy said, shifting her feet on the edge of the bath. The glittery pink polish on her toes sparkled in the light that streamed through the window.


“Darcy,” Steve called out from the living room. Canary jumped off the laundry basket and skittered across the tiles, a hyperactive streak of orange, black and white.


“In the bath,” Darcy said. She scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them from her fingertips.


“Still sulking?” Steve asked as he pushed open the bathroom door. Canary  stood on his shoulder, sharp claws digging into the fabric of his blue buttondown. He looked good. Steve always looked good.


“I’m not sulking,” Darcy replied, swirling her fingers in the bubbles that floated on the surface of the water. She absolutely was not sulking. Not one bit. Steve Rogers was a jerk. “I do not sulk, jerk.”


“Mhmm,” Steve arched a brow and swept his gaze over her from the top of her head to the pink painted toes.  He reached up to gently pull Canary down from her perch on his shoulder. The cat squirmed out of his grip and landed on the floor tail twitching ominously. “Really, Darce? You were mad as hell last night when Coulson flew off with his new team.”


Darcy frowned, body tense as she curled her fingers around the edges of the bath. She wanted to argue, but there was no point when they both knew the truth. “Fine. Maybe a little bit of sulking. Coulson didn’t want me for his Go tsao de team. I wasn’t good enough.”


“I don’t think--”


“I don’t want your logic. I didn’t make the cut.”


“Darcy,” Steve sighed and knelt on the plush mat beside the bath. “You need to give yourself a break.”


“That an order, Captain?” Darcy snapped back. Steve settled his hand over hers.


“Do you need me to tell you what I think of you as an agent?”


“ don’t know,” she replied, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. She knew she was a good agent. The whole tasing a demigod only got her so far within S.H.I.E.L.D. The rest she had to earn, in an organization that was one step down from an all boys club. Darcy didn’t fit the parameters the way Agent Ward did. Her scores for firearms and hand to hand were good, but not that good. It didn’t mean that she couldn’t be disappointed that her SO had a shiny new team that she wasn’t a part of.  


She groaned and scooted down in the tub. Bent her knees up and slipped her head below the water.  Steve’s hand tightened on hers. She held her breath till her lungs burned for air and she pulled herself up, breaking the surface of the water gasping for breath. Darcy  tugged her hand free from under Steve’s grip and shoved a strand of wet hair away from her face.


“Better?" Steve asked as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up over his elbows.


“A little bit,” she agreed.


“How’s Agent Cho?”


“He’s doing well enough to sass me about you.”




“Yeah. Dr. Singh says he’ll be discharged in a few days if he’s good,” Darcy said, rubbing a wet strand of hair between her fingers. Alex nearly died and there was a lump in her throat.


This was her life now, saving the world in a sharp suit and black sunglasses or stuck in a rat’s maze buried in hard copy reports of all the weird crap that didn’t rate the attention of the higher ups, or Captain America.


“How was the meeting?”


Steve’s mouth twisted up in a rueful smile and he shook his head. He tapped his fingers on Darcy’s knee and traced a drop of water down her inner thigh where it met the water. “Can’t say.”


“Above level seven,” she asked far too focused on the drag of Steve’s calloused fingers over her skin.


“Mmm,” Steve hummed, dipping his fingers below the water. Darcy’s breath stuttered and she let her thighs fall apart. “Level eight.”


Darcy bit her tongue to keep from saying anything about Steve’s rise to level eight. She was cynical enough to know that she only got to be a seven by knowing more than most about ripping holes in space time, demi gods that should wear toolbelts, and shiny firebreathing metal robots that put C3PO to shame. She was not jealous, Steve was Captain America after all, and you can’t be jealous over that. It would be unpatriotic, or something. “Gonna join me?”


“Can’t. I’ve got a mission,” Steve said. His gaze dropped from her eyes, to her lips and down to her tits barely covered by water and bubbles. She arched her back just enough to for her breasts to break the surface of the water. Steve cursed under his breath and Darcy felt a giddy rush of triumph.


“Wanted to ask you something before I go.”


“Ask me what?”


“Ask you to stay.”


“Of course I’ll stay and feed Canary and I’m not getting out of the tub yet."


“That’s not what I meant.”


“What did you mean?"


Steve’s eyes focused on hers, intense and bright. “Move in with me.”


“Move in….” Darcy said voice trailing off.


They had been together for months chronologically. But in real time? Days and weekends and times between assignments? It didn’t amount to much; they hadn’t even said the things people are supposed to say.


Three little words that get stuck before they reach her tongue.


Steve sighed and curled his hand over her knee. “I don’t want to waste the time we have to spend together.” Darcy licked her lips. Wrinkled her nose at the taste of rose and pomegranate bubble bath that burst on her tongue. “Just…”


“Okay...yes,” she said, before Steve could take the words back. Darcy reached up and smoothed the worry line between his brows. His eyes drifted shut and his shoulders drooped. “You were worried.”


“Maybe,” Steve said, catching her hand and kissing her fingertips.


Darcy felt warm all over. Hot and fluttery. And nothing at all to do with the temperature of the bathwater. “Just maybe?” she asked, voice catching on the ‘j’.


“It’s a bit rushed.”


“‘Cause the rest of our relationship hasn’t been?” Darcy asked, proud that she didn’t flinch at the word. Relationship. It was the first time she’d really put a label on what was between them. There was a weight to the word that should have scared her, should have sent her running off home. Running back to the girl she was, running after a half mad astrophysicist hyped up on coffee and sugar in the New Mexico desert. The world was a different place now than it was two years ago, she was a different person. Darcy didn’t scare easily anymore. Most of the time anyway.


“True,” Steve nodded, mouth twisting up into a smirk that never failed to make Darcy’s belly twist. She pulled herself to sit upright in the bathtub, water streaming down her skin. The smirk slipped from Steve’s lips as his eyes raked over her. “Wouldn’t change it… well, maybe I’d want to have asked you on a date before we fell into bed together.”


“Hey, it was a good plan.”


Steve cleared his throat and brought his eyes back up to hers.  "It was.”


Out in the hall the phone started ringing a moment before Steve’s cell started playing ‘Big Balls’.




“I need better friends,” Steve said dryly. He leaned forward to kiss her hard and fast and stood up to withdraw  the phone from his pocket. “When I get back we’ll talk some more?”




Steve slid his thumb across the phone screen to answer it. “I’m on my way…’s none of your goddamned business, Stark. I’ll see you when I get there.”


“Do I want to know?”


“No you really don’t.” Steve shoved the phone back into his pocket. He ran a hand through his short hair and took in a deep breath. “We’ll move in your stuff when I get back?”


“You can lift all the heavy boxes," she nodded imperiously. Steve grinned then, crooked and warm.


Darcy closed her eyes and stretched out in the tub. Wiggled her toes on the edge of the bath, soap bubbles dripping from her bare legs. Steve’s breath caught as she slid her hands up to cup her breasts, rubbing her thumbs over her nipples.


“Christ, Darce, not fair,” Steve groaned, his hand curled tight on the door knob.


“Have fun beating up the baddies,” Darcy said. She offered a cheeky salute with one hand while the other hand remained on her breast, thumb rubbing over her pebbled nipple.


Packing was not Darcy’s favorite thing. It was practically her least favorite thing next to paperwork. She really needed to reassess her life choices. A career at SHIELD meant drowning in an avalanche of paperwork. Actual wood pulp lets shred and burn all the files paperwork.


The apartment she was  leaving was always a little cold. It had the temporary feel to it that the quarters on the Helicarrier had. Everything was perfectly decent and functional. That was it.

She hadn’t really bothered to make it a home since she moved in.


The only real marks of her personality were trinkets and stacks of tattered paperback books. Two tacky snowglobes, one from New Mexico, she bought herself, and one Jane sent from Tromso when Darcy was finishing training. As the world was about to end. Again.


A photo of Jane and Thor taken in the kitchen of the showroom was tucked into the corner of the mirror. I should call Jane, she thought as she pulled the photograph down and pressed it between the pages of a book. On the dresser beside a few bottles of nail polish was a stolen hotel mug filled with pens collected over the years.


The contents of her life fit into a half dozen boxes, a busted up suitcase, and grey Jansport backpack that still had notebooks in it from college. A package of pop-tarts sat crumbled to dust at the bottom of the backpack. She wasn’t sure if that was meant to be some sort of metaphor for her life, or maybe the life she didn’t choose when she signed over her life to SHIELD.


She dusted off her hands, rubbed them over the ragged pair of jeans she was wearing, and took one last look around. There wasn’t anything left to pack and the cleaning service would take care of everything else, including the box she’d written ‘Goodwill’ on the side of that held some books, and a few knicknacks that were never going to fit in with Steve’s things.


Steve’s things.





“Merrow,” Canary greeted as Darcy closed the door on the agent she duped into helping her move.


“Hey, tuna breath,” Darcy said. She scooped the cat into her arms. Canary was less than impressed and let loose an unhappy squawk. Darcy scratched under the cat’s chin and all was forgiven for a few moments while she scanned the living room and the small pile of her belongings.  “Looks like it's just you and me 'til your idiot person comes home again.”


Canary blinked, wiggled out of Darcy’s arms and circled around the neat pile of boxes beside the door. The cat sneezed and  jumped backwards, making Darcy roll her eyes.


She bent over and lifted one of the boxes and carried it into the bedroom. Steve’s bedroom. Their bedroom. “Jesus,” Darcy muttered dropping the box onto the neatly made bed. The corners of her mouth twitched up and she looked over to the desk beside the window.


Where the bed and the rest of the room were perfectly neat Steve’s desk was a mess. Pens and pencils lay in the lip of the slanted desk, thick paper haphazardly pinned down behind a large brown leather sketchbook. There were more books stacked within the drawers. Though her fingers itched to dig them all out and paw through them, it wasn’t her right to do so. Maybe she was growing up.


Steve didn’t talk about his art. It was something he held close. Private and personal, and the only part of his therapy sessions that he actively listened to as far as she could tell. Sometimes he would let her curl up beside him as he sketched, let her get a glimpse of the world as he saw it. See the connections Steve made, and how he processed the information. Sometimes when she was tousled and sleepy, sprawled in a tangle of sheets. He crawl up the bed charcoal on his fingers, eyes a brilliant blue, shining with emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.


They had been sleeping together for months but there were so many things she still didn’t know about the man. It would be worrying if she didn’t trust him so much.


Everyone knew about Captain America, it was part of everyday culture, Kindergarten plays, high school lessons, the HBO miniseries (which she was never going to ever be able to watch again), the History channel biography of the Howling Commandos that was aired a few nights ago. Steve watched it hunched over, elbows on knees, hand covering his mouth. He left her alone in his apartment and came back  hours later drenched in sweat with red swollen knuckles and fucked her through the mattress.


Her thoughts were far too heavy for the afternoon, “Hey, Canary, lets make coffee before we start,” Darcy called out. A few moments later the cat trilled and twined around Darcy’s ankles.


“Change of address form?” Sitwell asked and Darcy tried not to flinch.


“Yup,” Darcy said as she finished scrawling her name on the bottom of the form and dropped it in her outbox.


“Isn’t that--”


“None of your business? Why yes it is. Fancy that,” Darcy said, smile sharp. “You know I’m not going to work any faster if you hover over my desk reading through my paperwork.”


The upside of working at HQ was she could go home at night, the downside was all the damn paperwork, and since May and Coulson left there was enough to drown in. Field work was a lot more fun, except the bullets. Bullets were not so fun. Neither was the gossip going around SHIELD about herself. For an organization of mostly spies they were damn loose lipped.  


“Don’t forget who you work for, Lewis, everything is SHIELD business.”


“What can I do for you, Sitwell?”


“Finished with the San Francisco report?”


“Yup, it’s all yours,” she replied, picking up the hardcopy. “I sent a copy of the digital file to your tablet. Anything else, Agent?”


“No, that will be all, Agent Lewis.”


“Awesome, I’m going to head out for lunch and coffee. You want the usual?”


“Which coffee shop?”


“Please, like I don’t know which coffee shop is the best in a three mile radius.”


“One more thing, Lewis.”




“Captain Rogers is back.”


“Since when?”


“Oh, I’d say about fifteen minutes ago,” Sitwell tilted his head to the side and Darcy followed his gaze.




Two days before he left, two weeks and three days ago, not that she was counting. Much. Steve had mumbled about new gloves for covert work. Darcy really should have paid better attention. Her mouth dried out and her eyes widened at the sight of Steve striding down the hall, Assistant Director Hill keeping pace at his side, a tablet tucked under her arm, and a smug smile on her lips.


The new suit wasn’t remotely covert.


The star was still at the center of his chest but the suit was far more subdued and utilitarian.  Navy blue in color, with brown leather fingerless gloves on his hands, matching leather straps on his shoulders. The shield and helmet were missing, his hair was damp and a few days stubble covered his jaw.


Steve turned his head and his eyes found her. His mouth curved up in a slow smile and Darcy’s belly flipped. Steve handed over a file to Hill, said something low that she couldn’t hear and then he was purposely striding towards her.


God, she missed him.


Darcy held herself very still, failing to ignore the bubble of happy floating up at his presence.. She was an adult. An agent of SHIELD, a field agent no less. She was not going to run into his arms like her life was a fucking Lifetime movie. No matter how much she wanted to do just that. Her heart beat faster.


Steve smiled, slow and crooked and Darcy’s knees nearly buckled. Jerk.


“Digging the new threads,” Darcy said in way of greeting. She reached up to poke the star at the center of his chest.


“It’s a little more…subtle, than the stars and stripes,” Steve said. The corner of his mouth ticked up and his eyes raked over her settling on her lips for one long moment. He leaned forward and trailed the bare tips of his fingers over Darcy’s arm. Electricity jolted up her arm and settled in her belly. A knot of anticipation twisted up her insides.


“Subtle and yet still so very shiny.”


“Meet me in my office?” he whispered low, voice rough enough that she knew he wasn’t unaffected in seeing her.


Darcy shivered and scanned the hall. Nobody was paying any attention to them. Well, nobody but the secretary eyeing up Steve’s ass. “God, yes.”




She knew that he had an office, she’d just never actually been in it before. It was easy enough to find, the door was helpfully unlocked. Not that that would have been a problem.


The room was aesthetically pleasing she supposed, if a little bit cold and well office-y. Done up in dark wood, gleaming with polish, the walls painted a dusty shade of blue, and thick blue carpet beneath her heels. A framed painting of the Brooklyn Bridge hung on the wall behind the large desk and several framed pictures of Captain America shaking hands with various people graced the other walls. Everything was pin straight and perfectly in order. Much like the image Steve projected as his alter ego, and not the man she knew.


The man she moved in with. God, that really shouldn’t feel like a surprise, not after having moved herself in while he was off covertly saving the world from terrorists and deranged Easter bunnies, or whatever it was that was above her clearance level. Not that she couldn’t access the information if she really wanted to. She spent the last few days unpacking most of her things, Canary hot on her heels with every step she took. Falling asleep breathing in Steve’s faint scent on the pillows with the cat tucked into her side didn’t feel quite as scary as Steve getting home and them living together.


The door clicked open behind her and Darcy twisted around, startled from her thoughts. Adrenaline spiked through her system.


“It’s me,” Steve said, easing into the room. His gloved palm curled on the edge of the door as he closed it behind him. He slid his hand down and twisted the lock. For whatever good it would do in holding off agents, spies, and obnoxious self styled superheroes.






“How long before someone comes looking for you?” Darcy asked stepping forward.


“Long enough,” Steve said as Darcy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to fit their mouths together. Steve palmed her ass, pulled at her skirt, lifting it up and  grasped the back of her thighs. Darcy wrapped her legs around his waist, rolled her hips against him. His kissed her until her lungs burned and her head spun.“Missed you.”


“Missed you too,” she said, tilting her head to the side to give better access to her neck.


He carried her to his desk, set her down on the dark wood and skimmed his gloved hands down her bare legs as she leaned back against the desk. He encircled her ankles with his hands and pulled her legs from his waist. Steve’s eyes raked over her and his eyebrows ticked up. “Really, Darce?” Steve asked. His eyes flicked from her face to her panties. The leather of his gloves was rough on her hips,  thumbs rubbing back and forth over her hip bones.


“What? They’re cute,” she said leaning up on her elbows. Her panties were navy and white with tiny little anchors, boats, and life preservers dancing over the cotton. Steve stretched out his right thumb to rub over her clit through the damp cotton.


“Don’t like ‘em,” he said curling his fingers into the elastic and pulling. The cotton gave way with a tearing sound.


“Was that absolutely necessary, Captain?”




“You're ridiculous,” she said incredulously, eyebrows arched high. “They aren’t even Navy; they’re just boats and anchors.”


Steve’s mouth turned up in a filthy grin, he trailed his bare fingertips between her thighs, parting her lips. He pressed the tips of his fingers into her, dropped to his knees and placed an open-mouthed kiss over her clit. Darcy fell back against the desk, eyes squeezed tightly shut and covered her mouth with her palm. Steve curled one arm around her thigh draping her leg over his shoulder, the leather of his glove rough and warm on her skin. He traced over her with his tongue and teased his fingers in and out of her pussy.


Darcy whined deep in her throat and rocked her hips against Steve’s face. Pleasure rolled down her spine and coiled in her belly. Darcy threaded her fingers through his damp hair, short nails scraping over his scalp as his tongue swirled around her clit over and over. She opened her eyes and lifted her head from the desk enough to meet Steve's eyes dark with arousal.


His tongue flicked against her, pressed his fingertips deeper and Darcy came apart. His name caught in the cage of her teeth and her hand tugging at the short strands of his hair. He laved at her clit until she pushed him away.


“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Darcy gasped. Steve hummed and kissed her inner thigh. The stubble of his beard tickled against her skin. “I mean just… fuck.”


“You’re welcome,” Steve said, voice low and gravelly. His mouth curved into a smug grin, lips red and wet. The man was very, very good with his mouth.


Steve’s hands worked his belt open and pulled down the zip of his uniform pants. Darcy pushed herself up to sitting and batted his hands away to pull his dick from his pants. Steve hissed and his head fell back as her hand wrapped around his cock.


“You really did miss me,” Darcy said. She squeezed the crown of his dick. Steve’s hips rolled, and a low growl spilled from between his lips. Darcy laughed and curled her free hand around Steve’s neck and kissed him. Licked into his mouth, chased her own taste on his tongue and stroked her hand up and down the hard length of him.


Steve pulled his mouth from hers and pressed his forehead to her shoulder, “Fuck, m’gonna come if you don’t stop.”


“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”


“Will be if I ruin that pretty dress you’re wearing,” Steve rumbled.


“Oh, good point,” Darcy said rubbing her thumb over the sticky head of his dick. Steve unzipped one of the pockets on his uniform and pulled out a foil wrapped condom. “Yisss.” Darcy made grabby hands at him but Steve ignored her, tore the packet open with his teeth. She pulled the condom from his fingers and together they rolled it down his length.


She leaned back against the cool surface of the desk, lifted her legs and Steve cupped her calves with his hands. Darcy shivered at the feel of the leather on her skin. Darcy wiggled her hips, dragged the head of Steve’s dick down to rub between slick folds and they both moaned.


“Darcy,” he warned, tightening his grip on her calves, gaze focused on her hand as she guided him into her. Steve’s hips jerked forward and a strangled curse fell from his lips as he bottomed out. “Okay?”


“So, so, okay,” Darcy gasped. Steve pulled back slowly and snapped his hips forward. She curled her hand around the edge of the desk to hold on. Her lip caught between her teeth to keep from crying out. She slipped her hand down to rub her fingers over his cock as he fucked into her.


Steve’s left hand slid down to wrap around her ankle and he let go of her other calf to slap his hand against the desk changing the angle. Darcy held onto his arm and curled her leg over his hip. The fabric of his uniform was rough on her skin and sent a delicious shiver down her spine as her leg brushed against it.


“Close?” he rasped. His fingers tightening on her leg. His face was flushed red, sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes practically glowed. God.


“So close,” Darcy said. She circled her fingers over her clit, round and round. Steve grit his teeth together as his rhythm faltered.  She choked on his name as she came apart, back arching off the desk, nails digging into the kevlar of his uniform. She clenched tight around his cock as her orgasm rippled through her. Steve’s eyes slammed shut, a low moan spilling from his lips, his hips jerking hard. He pressed into her as deep as he could go as he came.




The door clicked shut behind them and Darcy held her breath while Steve looked around at the living room. She played with the keys in her hands, feeling suddenly nervous at his silence. “I thought we were going to wait to move your things in together?” Steve said turning to face her.


Darcy let out a breath she hadn’t realise she’d been holding. “Pfft...I waited like a whole day while you were out flying the unfriendly skies and raining liberty down on poor unfortunate souls.”


“A whole day?”


“Canary needed me,” Darcy said. She fiddled with the keys in her fingers. “It’s okay, right?”


Steve dropped his bag on the floor, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hard. Steve hands slid up and down her back as he kissed her. His hands slid down over her ass and he pulled her up against  his body. Suckled her lip into his mouth, and sunk his teeth in. Darcy’s breath stuttered and she felt his mouth grin against her lips. “More than.”