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Tonight, I didn't feel like writing anything in the Streetlight People 'verse. I'm getting to a hook which means that I'm fighting the words. At least I know that it's a THING I do and I'm not scared that there are no more words. I just wish that I would quit fighting. You know?
So there was a NaNo help post at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
be_compromised tonight and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hufflepuffsneak gave someone else a prompt idea of Darcy taking over the world... and this is what came out of my head. It gave me a decent word count for the day (because I didn't really start writing until after 7pm because I'm lazy that way) but it's not really done. I don't know if it will ever be done. What do you think?
Title: Darcy Takes Over the World
Characters: Steve, Darcy (headed toward Steve/Darcy)
On the morning that Darcy took over the world, she made muffins. There were already a variety of muffins on the cooling racks spread around the kitchen when Steve came stumbling in. Not that he was tired, even after only an hour of actually sleep, but a small kitten streaked down the hall toward him, tripping him up until he was able to gather the furball up into his arms. As he righted himself, he grinned up at Darcy.
“I think Abraham shouldn’t have the run of the building.” She gestured at the door with a spatula covered in dripping batter. “And such a hairy beast shouldn’t be in the kitchen. Not while I’m stress baking.”
“Abraham is not hairy,” he responded with a slight frown. When the spatula waved at him with a more menacing air, he took a step back. “But I’ll go lock him up in my bedroom.”
“Make sure he can’t get out this time.” Even though she didn’t holler after him, like she would have for anyone else who interrupted her morning baking with a kitten and smile, she knew he heard her. That man could hear just about anything, being a super soldier and all. Usually she found it comforting. This morning, she only found it irritating.
She was finding everything irritating which was why she was stress baking. Muffins were an easy choice and relatively mindless so she could concentrate on what she was going to say to what she hoped was her future boss.
Everyone else that lived at Stark Tower had a job. While Tony wasn’t actively running Stark Industries these days, he seemed to be doing an awful lot of research and design for them. Bruce was up to his eyeballs with all the sciencey stuff in the labs. From time to time, when she wasn’t knee deep in her own sciencey stuff down at the SHIELD lab, Jane could be found there with him.
She knew that counting Clint and Natasha as residents of the tower was a stretch, considering they only stayed here when they were in the city, but she was going to for this exercise. While she didn’t know what the average SHIELD agent made, those two weren’t amiss to dropping good money on any new toys that caught their eye. Just last week, she helped Natasha bring up several shopping bags full of CDs. None of them looked like they’d come off the clearance rack.
Steve’s job was much more nebulous. He was the new face of superheroes everywhere. It was a horrible job that he hated. Like, seriously, hated in a way she never would have imagined Captain America could hate anything. But he would never turn down the requests, just like he would never turn down the opportunity to help anyone in distress. It was who he was and, God help her, she adored him for it.
She also adored him for buying a kitten and calling it Abraham. It was a big name for such a little thing but he’d explained the reasoning and it had made her cry. They were the type of tears that had needed to be wiped up by the white handkerchief that Steve always kept in his pocket. In his pocket! Like a boy scout! Or a really cool guy who didn’t laugh when a girl cried.
It was that moment when she realized that she needed to get out of the tower and get a job. Keeping Jane in line wasn’t quite the chore it once had been, now that Thor was in town quite a bit and kept her eating and sleeping pretty regularly. Baking for everyone here at the tower (and quite a bit of the SHIELD staff that Jane knew well) wasn’t enough to keep her busy. Besides, she was getting tired of having to come up with excuses whenever anyone went out to do anything fun just because she couldn’t afford it. Steve had never fallen for her apparent disdain for outdoor activities and even Bruce was starting to narrow his eyes at her. If something didn’t change soon, Tony was going to start thinking he needed to take her on as a charity case.
Today’s special brand of torture was going to take place at a shoe store (she wore shoes so OF COURSE she was a shoe in - or so Jane kept saying before doubling over with glee at her apparently hilarious pun) and a library. Both weren’t her dream job but they would provide that all important paycheck.
“So, why are you stress baking this morning?” Steve was back with that pretty, pretty smile and a sudden interest in the boysenberry pile. “Something interesting? Tell me it’s interesting because it’s been dull as tombs around here lately.”
“Nothing interesting. Just a... job interview.”
Darcy had told herself that she was going to keep it a secret until she was able to wave a handful of dollars around and pretend she was Tony Stark and they were actually hundreds. It was more than she could do at the moment.
While she knew Steve wouldn’t pry and she could tell him anything and it would stay a secret to the rest of the group, she also felt a niggling of self-doubt creep in. He was so pretty and so earnest and so... incredible. So instead of blurting out her secret, she asked him, “Why do you think they make you dress in your Captain America costume for the interviews that don’t have cameras?”
Instead of blushing and stammering something before ducking out of the room, he surprised her and stared her down as he finished his first muffin and reached out for another. “Because it’s the uniform for the job.”
“A job you hate.”
He nodded even as he shrugged. “I hate parts of it. I like helping people and encouraging them to do good when they can. I like visiting hospitals and schools. Some of those things make up for the parts I don’t like.” When she didn’t answer right away, he offered up another beautiful smile. “Hey, it’s a job.”
A knife to the chest. And then he twisted it by adding, “These are really good. We’re so lucky we have you to bake for us. It’s almost as if this is your job. Bet you don’t hate it.”
“I hate the lack of pay,” she mumbled as she went back to stirring with wild abandon that was going to ruin this batch. If she was honest with yourself, she liked baking but it wasn’t a job. Not a real job. It wasn’t like she was a chef or even that she’d had any training. She was passable at making anything with meat but she could whip up a mean salad. It was sweet things where her passion lay. Muffins, cupcakes, brulees, puddings. Anything that could be served as a dessert was on her list of favorite things to bake.
“Is that why you’re looking for a job?”
She realized her mistake as she turned around and saw his look of horror. “That’s not what-”
“I always figured you had money coming in from,” but then his voice trailed off as he struggled to think of where she might be getting a paycheck from.
“From where, Steve? SHIELD doesn’t care about me as long as Jane is working and happy. They’re not exactly going to pay me for bringing her coffee.” That had been Jane’s option but she had refused to let her friend go ask Fury to consider that possibility. “And my paltry allowance from the school dried up when Jane and I left to come out here. My parents send me enough to buy a few songs every month but that’s about it. I have a roof over my head and food to eat. That should be enough. You know?”
The look on his face was enough to make her start bawling but it made her angry, instead. She didn’t want Steve’s pity. What she wanted, if she was really truthful with herself (adding fruit into batter always made her strangely truthful), was to have him kiss her thoroughly before wishing her good luck. At this point, she would have settled for just the good luck part. Instead, he was making her feel as if she was one of those people he had to visit while dressed up in the stars and stripes.
“Never mind,” she muttered as she pulled a tin of half-baked muffins out of the oven and let them clatter onto the stove top. With one last roll of her eyes, she stomped out of the kitchen and refused to turn back, no matter how loudly he called after her.
***
The halls of the library proved to be so confusing, Darcy almost didn’t find her way out of the building. About the time she considered going back to the vending machines she’d seen two lefts and a right ago (or was it two rights and a left), she found the glowing EXIT sign hanging over a metal door. With a cry of happy exaltation, she left the stuffy building (and the stuffy employees, no offense to much cooler librarians she’d met growing up) far behind.
Sadly, it was too late to head to the job interview at the shoe store. Or, rather, she just decided to give up on job hunting for the near foreseeable future. Begging Fury for a job was looking better and better, all the time.
“Ma’am?”
Darcy flew around as she realized the person who’d exited the building after her was calling after her. “Yes?”
“Ma’am, you left your purse behind.”
She had to double check to make sure that she was still carrying her purse because she could feel it in her hand but suddenly she didn’t know what to believe. “No, this is-”
A hand clamped down on her arm when a thick cloth was slammed over her nose and mouth. Before she could react and fall back on her training, whatever was on the cloth began to clog her airways and she lost consciousness.
***
“You’ve really messed up this time.”
“Steve? What are you doing here?”
“I’m not. Your subconscious figured you’d like this body instead of seeing your mom. You remember when you hit your head during that swim meet and, when you woke up, told everyone that your mom wanted you to go shopping. This is a lot like that.”
“I hit my head?”
“No.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
***
“Ma’am? Are you taking phone calls this morning?”
Darcy stretched her hands over her head, trying to figure out why her dreams had been so vivid. Normally, she didn’t remember anything when she woke up. Even stranger was to have a smile on her face, as if the dreams had been good enough to cut through the fact that she hated mornings.
“Who is it?” she murmured, wondering who could be calling at this ungodly hour.
“I believe it’s Captain America, ma’am.”
She threw the covers off, sitting up and reaching out for the phone. “Steve’s calling?”
“Steve?”
“Sure. Steve Rogers. Uh, I guess everyone knows him as Captain America and they don’t know his real name. Oh, well. It’s not like anyone really cares. Right?”
The plastic of the phone was slick and cold, a startling sensation as she began to realize it was the only thing she could feel. A quick glance down and she saw she was wearing a set of silk pajamas that looked far more expensive than anything else she’d ever owned, let alone slept in. The sheets were also silk and of a good quality but she couldn’t feel them against her bare ankle or along the palm of her hand. Nothing was real but the plastic of the phone.
“Hello?”
“Darcy, what’s going on? I saw you on the new last night.”
“The news?”
There’s static across the connection. “You were demanding a million dollars or you were going to blow up the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“I did?”
More static but, this time, it formed a pattern that she couldn’t help following instead of listening to what Steve was telling her. “I’ve got to go,” she replied, her voice faint as she felt even the sensation of the phone slipping away. “Gotta go save a bridge.”
***
“Do you think you’ll ever tell me you love me?”
“Do I?
“I can say, with eighty-two percent certainty, that you love Steve Rogers.”
“Percentages were never my strong suit. I don’t know that I believe you.”
“Too bad. I think I’d really like to know.”
***
She woke up three more times, all of them to a phone call and all of them wearing the same silk pajamas in the same silk-covered bed. When she woke up for the fourth time on a sterile hospital bed, everything felt different. Every part of her body ached as if she’d been tumbled down every set of stairs in Stark Tower. Her head was so stuffy that she could hear her heartbeat as if it had swapped places with her brain.
The bed tilted. It felt like it took forever to look over but she was finally staring at Steve. “I talked to you on the phone.”
He nodded and she couldn’t help but follow his movement with her own. “A few times. How are you feeling?”
“Was I run over with a truck?” When he chuckled, she felt her heart soar. “Okay, it wasn’t a truck. What was it?”
Very gently, he took one of her hands in his. A part of Darcy wanted to crow in delight (which would clearly have been a mistake on so many levels) but another part wondered if she wasn’t dying. “Do you remember leaving the library?”
“Barely. Something about leaving my bag but I hadn’t. I remember having it.” She used his hold to begin pulling herself upright a little more. When her muscles seized up because of the abrupt movement, Darcy tried to breath shallowly but it didn’t do any good.
Steve helped her slip back down so that she was once again reclining against the flat pillow. “What happened, Steve?”
“We weren’t sure for a few days. You sent Tony a note saying that you were going back home for a couple of days and not to worry. It was odd that you sent it to him but it was your handwriting.”
“Handwriting analysis? Really?” She grimaced, first from the thought that Tony had programmed a computer to know her handwriting and then because the grimace used muscles she hadn’t intended to use for at least another few hours. “Should I be scared that Tony can analysis me?”
“ Tony. Jane.”
“Jane’s back in town?” That was a surprise since she and Thor were supposed to be in Asgard through the holiday season, at the very least.
There was a strange expression in Steve’s eyes for a moment but it dropped away as he settled her hand back on the covers and stood up. Whatever had happened, it had clearly affected Steve. She was almost scared to know what it was that she’d done to make him look so lost. Captain America shouldn’t ever look scared. It was disconcerting.
“She came back after the first TV appearance. We were concerned and we sent her a message. She confirmed that you had written the message and also that you were the person we were seeing on the TV. It was your face and your voice.” It was only half a smile but it was enough to make her smile back at him even though she was confused why he was smiling. “You have the perfect face for TV. Do you know that?”
“No one’s ever told me that, no.”
“For ten days,” his hands clenched into fists and he turned away from her, toward the window, “you were on the television five times. Each time, you demanded money or you would destroy a New York City landmark. It was always you. Your face, your smile, your voice. But not your voice, at the same time. You were Darcy, but you weren’t.”
She laid a hand over her eyes, trying to block out the hazy mental image she was getting of something that felt like a dream. “I tried to take over New York.”
It wasn’t a question but he still answered, “Something like that. It was definitely where you were starting. From the sounds of it, the world was your next step if everything worked out.”
“And did it? Work out?”
He sighed loud enough that she uncovered her eyes. Of course it worked out. Why would she be here if it hadn’t worked out. But he didn’t look happy about the outcome.
“This isn’t just a hospital bed in a regular hospital. You’re under house arrest, Darcy. This is a SHIELD facility. You were finally apprehended three days ago. This is the first time you’ve seemed to come out of whatever spell that had you under.”
“Seemed?” She was a smart girl. That meant she picked up on that small word he’d buried in his sentence. “What does that even mean?”
“Well, you’ve been muttering certain... declarations since you got here. Once or twice, you even mentioned them on the phone. Whatever they knocked you out with, it seems to have given you... feelings for,” he reached up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “well, me.”
Now was the time to declare her feelings but it would either be seen as a side effect of whatever mental state she’d been in before or as a cop-out. She wasn’t interested in either of those. Instead, she turned her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. “I think I’m too tired to be having this conversation with you. I’d like to rest.”
“Sure.” But he hesitated at the doorway. When he didn’t leave, she opened her eyes and stared into blue eyes that were filled with that same strange emotion. “I’m glad you’re back, Darcy.”
She gave him a small, sad smile. “I’m glad, too.”
So there was a NaNo help post at
be_compromised tonight and hufflepuffsneak gave someone else a prompt idea of Darcy taking over the world... and this is what came out of my head. It gave me a decent word count for the day (because I didn't really start writing until after 7pm because I'm lazy that way) but it's not really done. I don't know if it will ever be done. What do you think?Title: Darcy Takes Over the World
Characters: Steve, Darcy (headed toward Steve/Darcy)
On the morning that Darcy took over the world, she made muffins. There were already a variety of muffins on the cooling racks spread around the kitchen when Steve came stumbling in. Not that he was tired, even after only an hour of actually sleep, but a small kitten streaked down the hall toward him, tripping him up until he was able to gather the furball up into his arms. As he righted himself, he grinned up at Darcy.
“I think Abraham shouldn’t have the run of the building.” She gestured at the door with a spatula covered in dripping batter. “And such a hairy beast shouldn’t be in the kitchen. Not while I’m stress baking.”
“Abraham is not hairy,” he responded with a slight frown. When the spatula waved at him with a more menacing air, he took a step back. “But I’ll go lock him up in my bedroom.”
“Make sure he can’t get out this time.” Even though she didn’t holler after him, like she would have for anyone else who interrupted her morning baking with a kitten and smile, she knew he heard her. That man could hear just about anything, being a super soldier and all. Usually she found it comforting. This morning, she only found it irritating.
She was finding everything irritating which was why she was stress baking. Muffins were an easy choice and relatively mindless so she could concentrate on what she was going to say to what she hoped was her future boss.
Everyone else that lived at Stark Tower had a job. While Tony wasn’t actively running Stark Industries these days, he seemed to be doing an awful lot of research and design for them. Bruce was up to his eyeballs with all the sciencey stuff in the labs. From time to time, when she wasn’t knee deep in her own sciencey stuff down at the SHIELD lab, Jane could be found there with him.
She knew that counting Clint and Natasha as residents of the tower was a stretch, considering they only stayed here when they were in the city, but she was going to for this exercise. While she didn’t know what the average SHIELD agent made, those two weren’t amiss to dropping good money on any new toys that caught their eye. Just last week, she helped Natasha bring up several shopping bags full of CDs. None of them looked like they’d come off the clearance rack.
Steve’s job was much more nebulous. He was the new face of superheroes everywhere. It was a horrible job that he hated. Like, seriously, hated in a way she never would have imagined Captain America could hate anything. But he would never turn down the requests, just like he would never turn down the opportunity to help anyone in distress. It was who he was and, God help her, she adored him for it.
She also adored him for buying a kitten and calling it Abraham. It was a big name for such a little thing but he’d explained the reasoning and it had made her cry. They were the type of tears that had needed to be wiped up by the white handkerchief that Steve always kept in his pocket. In his pocket! Like a boy scout! Or a really cool guy who didn’t laugh when a girl cried.
It was that moment when she realized that she needed to get out of the tower and get a job. Keeping Jane in line wasn’t quite the chore it once had been, now that Thor was in town quite a bit and kept her eating and sleeping pretty regularly. Baking for everyone here at the tower (and quite a bit of the SHIELD staff that Jane knew well) wasn’t enough to keep her busy. Besides, she was getting tired of having to come up with excuses whenever anyone went out to do anything fun just because she couldn’t afford it. Steve had never fallen for her apparent disdain for outdoor activities and even Bruce was starting to narrow his eyes at her. If something didn’t change soon, Tony was going to start thinking he needed to take her on as a charity case.
Today’s special brand of torture was going to take place at a shoe store (she wore shoes so OF COURSE she was a shoe in - or so Jane kept saying before doubling over with glee at her apparently hilarious pun) and a library. Both weren’t her dream job but they would provide that all important paycheck.
“So, why are you stress baking this morning?” Steve was back with that pretty, pretty smile and a sudden interest in the boysenberry pile. “Something interesting? Tell me it’s interesting because it’s been dull as tombs around here lately.”
“Nothing interesting. Just a... job interview.”
Darcy had told herself that she was going to keep it a secret until she was able to wave a handful of dollars around and pretend she was Tony Stark and they were actually hundreds. It was more than she could do at the moment.
While she knew Steve wouldn’t pry and she could tell him anything and it would stay a secret to the rest of the group, she also felt a niggling of self-doubt creep in. He was so pretty and so earnest and so... incredible. So instead of blurting out her secret, she asked him, “Why do you think they make you dress in your Captain America costume for the interviews that don’t have cameras?”
Instead of blushing and stammering something before ducking out of the room, he surprised her and stared her down as he finished his first muffin and reached out for another. “Because it’s the uniform for the job.”
“A job you hate.”
He nodded even as he shrugged. “I hate parts of it. I like helping people and encouraging them to do good when they can. I like visiting hospitals and schools. Some of those things make up for the parts I don’t like.” When she didn’t answer right away, he offered up another beautiful smile. “Hey, it’s a job.”
A knife to the chest. And then he twisted it by adding, “These are really good. We’re so lucky we have you to bake for us. It’s almost as if this is your job. Bet you don’t hate it.”
“I hate the lack of pay,” she mumbled as she went back to stirring with wild abandon that was going to ruin this batch. If she was honest with yourself, she liked baking but it wasn’t a job. Not a real job. It wasn’t like she was a chef or even that she’d had any training. She was passable at making anything with meat but she could whip up a mean salad. It was sweet things where her passion lay. Muffins, cupcakes, brulees, puddings. Anything that could be served as a dessert was on her list of favorite things to bake.
“Is that why you’re looking for a job?”
She realized her mistake as she turned around and saw his look of horror. “That’s not what-”
“I always figured you had money coming in from,” but then his voice trailed off as he struggled to think of where she might be getting a paycheck from.
“From where, Steve? SHIELD doesn’t care about me as long as Jane is working and happy. They’re not exactly going to pay me for bringing her coffee.” That had been Jane’s option but she had refused to let her friend go ask Fury to consider that possibility. “And my paltry allowance from the school dried up when Jane and I left to come out here. My parents send me enough to buy a few songs every month but that’s about it. I have a roof over my head and food to eat. That should be enough. You know?”
The look on his face was enough to make her start bawling but it made her angry, instead. She didn’t want Steve’s pity. What she wanted, if she was really truthful with herself (adding fruit into batter always made her strangely truthful), was to have him kiss her thoroughly before wishing her good luck. At this point, she would have settled for just the good luck part. Instead, he was making her feel as if she was one of those people he had to visit while dressed up in the stars and stripes.
“Never mind,” she muttered as she pulled a tin of half-baked muffins out of the oven and let them clatter onto the stove top. With one last roll of her eyes, she stomped out of the kitchen and refused to turn back, no matter how loudly he called after her.
***
The halls of the library proved to be so confusing, Darcy almost didn’t find her way out of the building. About the time she considered going back to the vending machines she’d seen two lefts and a right ago (or was it two rights and a left), she found the glowing EXIT sign hanging over a metal door. With a cry of happy exaltation, she left the stuffy building (and the stuffy employees, no offense to much cooler librarians she’d met growing up) far behind.
Sadly, it was too late to head to the job interview at the shoe store. Or, rather, she just decided to give up on job hunting for the near foreseeable future. Begging Fury for a job was looking better and better, all the time.
“Ma’am?”
Darcy flew around as she realized the person who’d exited the building after her was calling after her. “Yes?”
“Ma’am, you left your purse behind.”
She had to double check to make sure that she was still carrying her purse because she could feel it in her hand but suddenly she didn’t know what to believe. “No, this is-”
A hand clamped down on her arm when a thick cloth was slammed over her nose and mouth. Before she could react and fall back on her training, whatever was on the cloth began to clog her airways and she lost consciousness.
***
“You’ve really messed up this time.”
“Steve? What are you doing here?”
“I’m not. Your subconscious figured you’d like this body instead of seeing your mom. You remember when you hit your head during that swim meet and, when you woke up, told everyone that your mom wanted you to go shopping. This is a lot like that.”
“I hit my head?”
“No.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
***
“Ma’am? Are you taking phone calls this morning?”
Darcy stretched her hands over her head, trying to figure out why her dreams had been so vivid. Normally, she didn’t remember anything when she woke up. Even stranger was to have a smile on her face, as if the dreams had been good enough to cut through the fact that she hated mornings.
“Who is it?” she murmured, wondering who could be calling at this ungodly hour.
“I believe it’s Captain America, ma’am.”
She threw the covers off, sitting up and reaching out for the phone. “Steve’s calling?”
“Steve?”
“Sure. Steve Rogers. Uh, I guess everyone knows him as Captain America and they don’t know his real name. Oh, well. It’s not like anyone really cares. Right?”
The plastic of the phone was slick and cold, a startling sensation as she began to realize it was the only thing she could feel. A quick glance down and she saw she was wearing a set of silk pajamas that looked far more expensive than anything else she’d ever owned, let alone slept in. The sheets were also silk and of a good quality but she couldn’t feel them against her bare ankle or along the palm of her hand. Nothing was real but the plastic of the phone.
“Hello?”
“Darcy, what’s going on? I saw you on the new last night.”
“The news?”
There’s static across the connection. “You were demanding a million dollars or you were going to blow up the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“I did?”
More static but, this time, it formed a pattern that she couldn’t help following instead of listening to what Steve was telling her. “I’ve got to go,” she replied, her voice faint as she felt even the sensation of the phone slipping away. “Gotta go save a bridge.”
***
“Do you think you’ll ever tell me you love me?”
“Do I?
“I can say, with eighty-two percent certainty, that you love Steve Rogers.”
“Percentages were never my strong suit. I don’t know that I believe you.”
“Too bad. I think I’d really like to know.”
***
She woke up three more times, all of them to a phone call and all of them wearing the same silk pajamas in the same silk-covered bed. When she woke up for the fourth time on a sterile hospital bed, everything felt different. Every part of her body ached as if she’d been tumbled down every set of stairs in Stark Tower. Her head was so stuffy that she could hear her heartbeat as if it had swapped places with her brain.
The bed tilted. It felt like it took forever to look over but she was finally staring at Steve. “I talked to you on the phone.”
He nodded and she couldn’t help but follow his movement with her own. “A few times. How are you feeling?”
“Was I run over with a truck?” When he chuckled, she felt her heart soar. “Okay, it wasn’t a truck. What was it?”
Very gently, he took one of her hands in his. A part of Darcy wanted to crow in delight (which would clearly have been a mistake on so many levels) but another part wondered if she wasn’t dying. “Do you remember leaving the library?”
“Barely. Something about leaving my bag but I hadn’t. I remember having it.” She used his hold to begin pulling herself upright a little more. When her muscles seized up because of the abrupt movement, Darcy tried to breath shallowly but it didn’t do any good.
Steve helped her slip back down so that she was once again reclining against the flat pillow. “What happened, Steve?”
“We weren’t sure for a few days. You sent Tony a note saying that you were going back home for a couple of days and not to worry. It was odd that you sent it to him but it was your handwriting.”
“Handwriting analysis? Really?” She grimaced, first from the thought that Tony had programmed a computer to know her handwriting and then because the grimace used muscles she hadn’t intended to use for at least another few hours. “Should I be scared that Tony can analysis me?”
“ Tony. Jane.”
“Jane’s back in town?” That was a surprise since she and Thor were supposed to be in Asgard through the holiday season, at the very least.
There was a strange expression in Steve’s eyes for a moment but it dropped away as he settled her hand back on the covers and stood up. Whatever had happened, it had clearly affected Steve. She was almost scared to know what it was that she’d done to make him look so lost. Captain America shouldn’t ever look scared. It was disconcerting.
“She came back after the first TV appearance. We were concerned and we sent her a message. She confirmed that you had written the message and also that you were the person we were seeing on the TV. It was your face and your voice.” It was only half a smile but it was enough to make her smile back at him even though she was confused why he was smiling. “You have the perfect face for TV. Do you know that?”
“No one’s ever told me that, no.”
“For ten days,” his hands clenched into fists and he turned away from her, toward the window, “you were on the television five times. Each time, you demanded money or you would destroy a New York City landmark. It was always you. Your face, your smile, your voice. But not your voice, at the same time. You were Darcy, but you weren’t.”
She laid a hand over her eyes, trying to block out the hazy mental image she was getting of something that felt like a dream. “I tried to take over New York.”
It wasn’t a question but he still answered, “Something like that. It was definitely where you were starting. From the sounds of it, the world was your next step if everything worked out.”
“And did it? Work out?”
He sighed loud enough that she uncovered her eyes. Of course it worked out. Why would she be here if it hadn’t worked out. But he didn’t look happy about the outcome.
“This isn’t just a hospital bed in a regular hospital. You’re under house arrest, Darcy. This is a SHIELD facility. You were finally apprehended three days ago. This is the first time you’ve seemed to come out of whatever spell that had you under.”
“Seemed?” She was a smart girl. That meant she picked up on that small word he’d buried in his sentence. “What does that even mean?”
“Well, you’ve been muttering certain... declarations since you got here. Once or twice, you even mentioned them on the phone. Whatever they knocked you out with, it seems to have given you... feelings for,” he reached up a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “well, me.”
Now was the time to declare her feelings but it would either be seen as a side effect of whatever mental state she’d been in before or as a cop-out. She wasn’t interested in either of those. Instead, she turned her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. “I think I’m too tired to be having this conversation with you. I’d like to rest.”
“Sure.” But he hesitated at the doorway. When he didn’t leave, she opened her eyes and stared into blue eyes that were filled with that same strange emotion. “I’m glad you’re back, Darcy.”
She gave him a small, sad smile. “I’m glad, too.”
