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"Holy fucktrumpets, Captain," Darcy says eyes wide. "That’s a huge c—"

"Don’t say it, Lewis," Steve says rolling his shoulders back and gripping his shield tight.

"Seriously you are no fun old man. You have to admit that is one really big c…hicken," Darcy says. They wince in tandem as said giant poultry scratches at the ground, sending a police car and an SUV into an empty Starbucks. "Now what?"

Steve glances around, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “Over there.” He nods toward a tiny gas station near the edge of town.

"What? Now is not the time for a slurpee and some beef jerky, Captain."

"Winner winner chicken dinner?" Steve says adjusting the hold on his shield. He keeps a sharp eye on the path of the giant chicken as Iron Man circles over their heads.

Darcy shakes her head, “No, absolutely not. Hill said minimal property destruction. Minimal.”

"No other option here and Hill never said anything about a giant robot chicken," Steve says reaching up to activate his com to speak into the com. "Stark I need you to lure the…chicken south east of my position."

"I’m having JARVIS take away the Food Network," Darcy mutters at his retreating back. Steve glances back at her, flashes a grin that is nothing like his poster boy smile. "Jackass."

In the aftermath Darcy is left to chase the team down to a small silver diner on the opposite end of town. Untouched by time and large poultry Terminators.

"No I am not having the chicken fried steak, Mr. Stark," Darcy says primly or as primly as she can while covered in dirt and grime. There is a vaguely egg shaped stain on her blouse and the right sleeve of her jacket is singed.

"The cheeseburger’s good. Fries too," Steve says with a crooked smile, ketchup on the corner of his mouth. He pushes a basket of fries in front of the empty stool between him and agents Barton and Romanoff.

"Live a little, Lewis," Stark says between bites of an obscenely large chicken sandwich.

"You guys are gonna get me fired. I’m going to end up filing hard copy in the archives. There’s no wifi there," Darcy says.

She sits down despite her better judgement, really how many times do you get invited to an after battle meal with the avengers anyway? Helping herself to one of Steve’s fries she looks over the chalkboard menu and listens to Stark and Dr Banner’s science babble. Agents Romanoff and Barton say nothing at all as they move with an eerie synchronicity switching food items between their plates.

The cracked red leather of Steve’s seat creaks, and his knee brushes against her leg. Butterflies swirl in her belly. Darcy steals a sip of his chocolate shake to buy the time to gather her scattered thoughts together.

"Just because you’re sharing your fries doesn’t mean I’m going to forget about your addiction to the Food Network," Darcy says quietly, twisting the straw between her fingers. She absolutely does not think about how many rules she is breaking at this moment.

"What if I bought you a slice of pie," Steve asks. He pulls the shake from her hand, the rough pads of his fingers grazing against hers.

"A SHIELD agent cannot be bribed," she says lifting her chin. Darcy can’t keep the smile from ghosting across her lips.

"À la Mode," Steve adds with a slow smirk.

"Deal,” she says though she isn’t sure if she fell for Steve’s smirk or the promise of ice cream. Steve’s smirk turns into a full grin, eyes crinkling and lips stretched wide. Yeah, totally the smile.