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"Open the door JARVIS," Darcy says, one hand clenching on a stack of files clutched to her chest the other clawed in the hem of her sweater.  

The door buzzes and Darcy opens it, stepping into the apartment and slamming it behind her. It's perfect, she thinks, as perfect as Steve's stupid face and asshole tactics. She roams through the apartment and finds it empty. She didn't expect him to be there after all. She finds his desk and slams the stack of files onto it. A container filled with pens and expensive pencils spills across the table and onto the floor.

Her lips twist into a bitter smile. It's not enough though. "JARVIS, where is Commander Rogers?" she asks smoothing the lines of her sweater.

"Commander Rogers is on the gym level, Miss Lewis," the AI replies. JARVIS may have said more but she's too outraged to listen.

Rogers isn't in the gym when she arrives.

The AI informs her that he's in the locker room and Darcy stops listening. She pushes through the door and into the plush locker room. Threads of steam waft from the shower stalls at the end of the room.

Darcy's heels click across the tiles. There's a thin wall of frosted glass between her and the sole occupant of the showers.  

"You're an asshole," Darcy says, adding an insolent 'sir' after a moment's pause.

"Lewis," he says in that low rumble that Darcy once thought was sexy as hell.

"It was my mission, my research and you're sending Anderson? The man’s a dick. His language skills are shit and he doesn’t know the data like I do."

"I stand by my decision."

"It's a stupid decision."

"Perhaps we should talk about this somewhere else," Steve says. A click sounds and the water abruptly stops.

"I don't care about your dangly bits, Commander, I want to know why you have thrown away two months of research."

"Darcy-"

"No. He's gonna fuck it up and you're gonna let him," she snaps. Her hands are balled into tight fists, mouth pulled into a tight smile when the glass door slides open.

Water drips down Steve's body as he steps out onto the tiled floor in front of Darcy. His chest and belly are covered in dark hair and She can't help but let her eyes roam over him. Jesus the man was gorgeous head to toe. Darcy unconsciously darted her tongue out to wet her lips.

"I thought you didn't care," Steve says.

Darcy yanks her eye up to meet his eyes. “I don’t,” she hisses out the words and hopes the flush of anger and the warmth of the shower room hides the blush warming her cheeks.

“Why don’t--”

“No.”

“You gonna let me speak or keep shouting,” Steve asks. He leans into her space, crowding her back against the countertop. His arm brushes against her as he reaches out to  grab a fluffy white towel. Heat curls in her belly and her breath catches in her throat.  

“It’s my mission,” Darcy says stubbornly. She crosses her arms under her chest for fear of attempting to smack the smug look off of his face.

Or worse.

“It was your mission,” Steve corrects rubbing the towel over his head and face.  “You are not field tested and I am not risking your life on this.”

“But you’ll risk Anderson’s,” Darcy says flatly.

Steve pulls the towel away from his face and rubs it over his chest and belly.

“He’s a soldier. You are not.”

“I’m an agent,” Darcy says unfolding her arms.

“I’m not arguing about this. It’s done.”

“Well I’m not done,” Darcy says taking a half step forward.

It’s a tactical mistake, even in her heels Steve towers over her, and now she has to crane her neck to look up at him. Her nails cut into the palms of her hands.

His right eyebrow twitches up and she thinks she may hate that one more than the left. Hates the way she can feel the heat radiating out from his body. Hates the clean smell of soap and shampoo.  

“Go on, do it,” Steve says. There is an edge to his voice that sends a thrill through her body.

“What?”

“Take a swing at me if it makes you feel better,” he says, his eyes flicking down to her balled fists and slowly back up to her face.

Darcy uncurls her fists, “God, you’re such an asshole.”

“Been called worse.”

“I’m sure you have,” she says. They share a long moment where the only sound is the dripping of the shower and their breath. Darcy drags her eyes away from Steve’s and turns abruptly on her heel. “This isn’t over, Commander.”

Steve groans as she stalks out of the open doorway and the sound of water cascading reaches her ears.