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Ice and Fire: Greased Lightning

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Greased Lightning


With the renovations complete on Stark Mansion, it was time for Darcy and her husbands to relocate to their new home. In a couple of months, she would throw a grand bash at the mansion to celebrate its reopening, but for now, well, it seemed that everyone was moving on. 

Thor and Jane had quarters in the new Asgardian Embassy--conveniently located in one of the unused wings of Stark Mansion. Tony and Pepper were splitting time between Malibu and New York again as Tony truly preferred his new lab out there and the California weather.  And now that the Avengers had a facility to call their own, Maria, Sam, the Twins, Nat, and Clint had shifted their base of operations to the new location.  

Oh, Darcy and Bucky worked in the Tower, and Vision had a tendency to hang out with his sister or Tony’s lab whenever he wasn’t occupied with the Avengers.  Bruce and Betty weren’t going anywhere, giving Tony a reason to come back to New York. (Darcy called them “playdates.”  Pepper agreed, and the term stuck.) Jane decided to keep her lab right where it was, too.

And it wasn’t like the original six Avengers were actually surrendering their apartments, because they needed a place that wasn’t “work” or “saving the world.”  Steve and Thor didn’t really have that excuse, and yet they’d decided to hold on to their places too. Which was silly, because Stark Mansion was only a mile up the street, but whatever, Darcy wasn’t particularly concerned about who stayed and went. Tony made it clear that any of them had a home here, and if the Tower didn’t suit their needs, Darcy chimed in that Stark Mansion certainly had a few extra bedrooms.

But Darcy wanted one last celebration for all of them. For the theme, she picked out “Grease,” for absolutely no other reason than she wanted to see Steve and Bucky dressed like greasers from the 50’s.

Well, that and she wanted to be a Pink Lady.

Sharon Carter called her when she got the invitation.  Though they weren’t related by blood, they’d been as close as cousins as kids, and still maintained contact. Darcy didn’t bother with a hello. “I need you to be Sandy,” she insisted.

“I don’t want to be Sandy.  Sandy was a wimp who changed her whole personality for a guy who wanted nothing more than to get in her pants.”

“You’re blonde.  You get to be Sandy.”

“Who are you, Rizzo?”

“Of course.”

“Oh god, Darcy. Really?  What about your mom? She’s blonde.”  

“Nope. Mom is Principal McGee. Dad is Frankie Avalon,” Darcy told her.  “Come on.  Nat’s gonna be Marty, Betty and Jane are both coming as Jan because they like the pigtails, Maria is Frenchy.  It’s either Sandy or you have to be Patty Simcox.”

“I hate you. All right, I’m in. Don’t forget my Pink Lady jacket.”


“Sometimes I forget you’re a true Stark.  This is going to be over the top.”


“Who are the guys?”

“What do you think?” Darcy prompted

“Is Steve gonna be Kinicki?”

“No. Thor’s Kinicki. Bucky’s gonna be Danny.  You can dance, right?"

“I’ll learn.  Who else?”

“Clint is Vince Fontaine, Bruce is going as Sonny.  Everyone else is going to be a random Pink Lady or T-Bird.”  

Sharon mused, “Steve should be Tom. But only if he walks around without a shirt.”

“Ha. No, he said he’s going as a T-Bird. Maybe Putzie?  I don’t remember.  Nobody wanted to be Doody.”

“With that name, who is surprised?”

“Not me.”

“Can I bring a friend?”

“Sure. Anyone I know?”

“A guy I met at S.H.I.E.L.D.  Darcy, this has disaster written all over it.”

“Yeah, it kind of does. I can’t wait.” Darcy clicked her phone off and did a little booty dance.




The party planners had already put the finishing touches on the decorations when Darcy arrived.  A dance floor had been laid down in the Commons, and a DJ was the corner--the front of his set up resembling a Wurlitzer jukebox. Neon lights, balloons, and streamers were everywhere.  The kitchen had been redecorated into soda shop, complete with barstools.  The barhop had roller skates and was ready to pull sodas for the guests. If they got spiked, well, that was just part of the fun. Darcy really didn’t want to know exactly how a ‘57 Chevy Bel Air (convertible, of course) was brought in and parked to one side, all gleaming in blue, white, and chrome.

Steve texted he was running late.  He’d been visiting kids at the hospital and ended up staying far too long, as usual.  But that was fine. All he needed was the leather jacket she’d laid out over his white t-shirt and pair of blue jeans and he would be ready.  Darcy had left Bucky in the shower so she could make a last minute check of the party preparations. She shouldn’t have worried; from the smell of the malt from the kitchen to the bubble machine in the corner and the greaser rock coming from the speakers, she was thrilled by the way it had all turned out.

Fluffing her hair, she turned up the collar on her jacket and checked her jeans to make sure they were still rolled up just right. The cell phone went in her back pocket and she touched up her red lipstick one last time.

Sharon arrived first, in her poodle skirt, ponytail, and the Pink Lady jacket that Darcy had sent over on Tuesday. She introduced her date as Cameron Klein.  He didn’t have the T-Bird leather coat, but he pulled off a “Jailhouse Rock” Elvis in black jeans, a black jacket, and a black and white striped shirt. They hit the soda fountain first, and Sharon tipped a little rum into his Coke.

The others began to trickle in, laughing at each other and doing their best to copy their characters from the movie that was playing silently on the big screen against the background of 50’s tunes the D.J. was spinning.  

Bucky showed up, and though Darcy had seen the initial run at his costume, it wasn’t the same as seeing the full effect of  black jeans, a black t-shirt, and his hair greased into curls that fell over his forehead.  The cigarette over his ear was a nice touch.  The metal arm just made the whole ensemble a little more bad-ass than any greaser ever envisioned.

She couldn’t stop looking, and he smirked as he fastened a pink and white corsage to Darcy’s jacket.  “Can’t have m’girl goin’ without flowers for a dance.”  He bent her over backward and kissed the hell out of her while the others whistled.   

Darcy might have staggered, just a step or two, when he brought her upright.  For damned sure, she couldn’t string two thoughts together. She wondered if there was any possibility of making out later in the back seat of the Chevy.

Pietro and Wanda were a little bashful as they stepped out of the elevator. Wanda wore Jan’s orange tulle prom dress, and Pietro showed up as Putzie in a checked brown dinner jacket and his blond hair coaxed into a curl on his forehead. Sam, sporting a tank top and white shorts with “Rydell” on the front a la Tom Chisum, coaxed the Twins into trying a malt with Bruce and Betty.

When Pepper, Tony, and Vision arrived, Darcy bounced out of Bucky’s arms and into her brother’s.  Vision couldn’t exactly do the 50’s greaser with his bald head, but he found a ballcap and dressed up like Coach Calhoun, whistle and all. Darcy adored every bit of it.  

Clint and Natasha absolutely owned their characters, flirting outrageously with each other.  It wasn’t long before “Vince” took the karaoke microphone and began crooning love songs to a besotted “Marty.”  

Sam and Maria were the first to sit in the convertible while Pepper snapped pictures of them.  After that, the others began crawling all over the car for their own selfies.

“Hello, Rizzo,” Bucky said in a that husky voice that never failed to pique her interest. He pulled Darcy on the dance floor before she took two bites from her plate. She got to show off her new lindy hop skills.

The party was in full swing by the time Steve showed up.  When he did, Bucky lost his step and nearly landed on Darcy.  His mouth fell open, and she turned to look. “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Bucky said, with reverence.  Darcy had to agree.  

Steve had come as Eugene. He wore a ridiculously adorable outfit of a white button-down shirt, white shorts, with a red bowtie, a red plastic lei, a white ballcap, and horn-rimmed glasses.  It shouldn’t have worked, but by golly, it did.  He got whistles and a round of applause from the party-goers, but Darcy wasn’t the only one who noticed Bucky flushing pink.  

“I guess you like what you see?” Darcy whispered, admiring the flex of Steve’s thighs where the shorts ended as he worked his way across the room-- shaking hands and giving hugs-- until he reached his spouses.  He kissed Darcy first, Bucky second, and wandered off to the buffet with an admonishment for them to finish their dance. Leaving Bucky staring after him.  

Darcy giggled as Bucky took a full thirty seconds to get his brain together and remember they were still in the middle of the dance floor. When he did, he licked his lips and began moving again to the--thankfully--slower song the DJ was playing now.  “Did you do that?” Bucky asked.

“Mmm, nope.  That’s all his idea.”

“Damned punk. Always had a thing for him in a button down and a damned bowtie,” he murmured in Darcy’s ear.  “Gonna help me unwrap him later?”  

“Do you need my help? Or is this thing between the two of you?” she demurred.

“Love, I’m willing to share the spoils,” he said, to her delight.  

Steve pulled off the awkward nerd perfectly, shoving up his glasses as he tried to flirt with the Pink Ladies.  When they shooed him off, he bounced over to “Rizzo,” who reeled him in for a kiss that left his glasses hanging off one ear and his bowtie askew.  



There was a group picture, but really, Vince and Marty stole the show.  Frankie hijacked the Chevy halfway through the evening and parked it in his penthouse, where rumor had it Principal McGee helped him christen it. Sandy went home with Elvis. Tom scored with Frenchy.

And Eugene got a whole new kind of education that night, courtesy of Danny and Rizzo.