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Darcy heaved herself against a wall, desperate to catch her breath if only for a moment. Gunfire echoed from every direction as well as the intense sounds of hand to hand combat. “How is this my life?” She asked herself breathlessly.
She had supposedly been called in to the ‘SUPER SHIELD HQ’ for an interview. Bullshit on top of more piles of steaming bullshit. They knew she had no intention of working for them, but her presence was demanded regardless. She was being led through corridor after corridor of twisty intimidating labyrinth halls when Captain America’s voice came over the building-wide sound system to inform everyone that SHIELD had been infiltrated by none other than motherfucking HYDRA. Now, Darcy was not normally one to whip out the heavy profanity (aside from an occasional well-deserved shit or damn-it) but she felt she was totally justified that her brain was currently incapable of referring to the afore-mentioned organization without her special prefix. She turned panicked eyes on her not-so-friendly tour guide, expecting to see shock and perhaps a little of the horror she herself was feeling, only to see his stony expression turn into a smirk before he whispered “Hail Hydra” and reached for his holstered sidearm. Darcy didn’t even try to think. She just reacted. She surged forward and kneed him in the junk, using his distraction and forward motion to jam her fist into his throat. He collapsed, clutching a hand to his neck and she didn’t hesitate. She ran.
Said running is what got her this far, to this nondescript wall in a maze of nondescript walls cursing SHIELD and HYDRA and all of their mothers (mentally of course, because she had less than no breath to spare). She was almost positive she was not going to make it out of this situation alive. In both Puente Antiguo and London she was outside. Somehow, the freedom of being outdoors mattered deeply to her when under attack. Who knew? Sure, she’d evaded detection so far but she knew she needed to keep moving. Up or down? Up or down? Down seemed best, but the sounds of fighting were far-fewer in the up direction when she got to the stairwell so… Against her inner cricket’s advice, she went up. Darcy exited onto what looked to be a deserted floor made up entirely of computer labs. She crept slowly down the hall, peering in at room after room of computers when she suddenly had an idea. Her phone had absolutely no reception – she had checked on the stairs – but maybe she could get out some kind of distress message on one of these computers. She entered a lab with an open door, noting that it opened to another hall on the far side followed by another computer lab and hall, and so on and so forth. The door on the opposite side was still closed but she had no difficulty seeing the layout when almost whole sections of wall were made with freaking windows…way to go for privacy SHIELD.
She sat down quickly in a cheap task chair, determined to force her shaking hands to comply when the most frightening man she’d ever seen in person (human man that is) ghosted into view. His movements were slow and confident. This man was most definitely secure at the top of his food chain. His eyes were shaded in smudged black, making his blue eyes glow hard and cold in the fluorescent office lighting. The rest of his face was covered by some sort of mask, his body in a form-fitting tac suit, except on the left where he appeared to have some sort of silver armor. AND who, she realized belatedly, would see her in literally less than three seconds if she didn’t get the hell out of dodge.
Darcy threw herself out of the chair and into the hallway, ducking against the solid portion of wall – stupid windows everywhere – and cringed at the sound of the chair back clanging into the metal work station. She took off running again, crouched as far as she could without tripping, when the sound of the lab door opposite her creaking open reached her ears. She ducked through lab after lab, feeling way too much like an insane jackrabbit, hoping like she had never hoped for anything before that there would be another stairwell somewhere on this floor. The one she had used before was way too close to Mr. LooksLikeAMasterAssassin back there, and nope. There would just have to be another one somewhere. Running through her third hallway in the computer-lab-that-wouldn’t-end, things finally came to a head. She tripped spectacularly, a startled “oof” slipping past her lips as her hands scuffed and burned on the industrial berber carpet lining the hall floors. She quickly pulled herself up into a crouch only to find Tall Dark and Murdery rounding the corner behind her. She scrambled into the nearest lab, putting as many tables between her and her patient pursuer as she could. He entered the room, striding purposefully toward her even as she scrambled toward the door on the far side of the room. She reached behind her to find the knob as his voice pierced the air. “Running will not save you.”
And didn’t she know it.
The euphoria she thought might fill her when hearing those five words never came. (What can she say? She’s always been an optimistic girl and had managed to conjure up many flirty/fun/sexy ways in which those words would be uttered that she would be COMPLETELY fine with thank-you-very-much, but this was definitely not one of them.) Unable to take her eyes off him, she happened to notice the armor on his left arm was not just armor, but an ENTIRE ARM of metal just a fraction of a second before he launched himself into the air and over the last two computer tables like it was nothing more strenuous than hopping over a small puddle. “Son of a bitch that was smooth!” she exclaimed breathlessly. She sucked in a deep and possibly last breath before continuing. “Well, get on with it buck-o. I obviously don’t stand a chance against you” she admitted hopelessly. If her words marked his skin, he showed no recognition. He never faltered from his course. Darcy closed her eyes as his metal hand reached for her.
She had no idea just how painfully she would have been maimed in the following seconds because before the metal hand made contact with her, Captain Freaking America broke through the lab window like a beautiful bull in a china shop and landed on top of her would-be killer. “Get out of here!” he grunted, as he grappled with the man on the floor and she wasted no time following his order.
Later that night, Darcy lay alone on a cheap motel bed, wondering how she had managed to sneak out alive - and why the universe so obviously hates her - as she cried herself to sleep.
_________________________________________
One year and some odd months later…
Darcy held her breath as much as she was able, scared that the wispy curls of moisture in the freezing air would alert the man coming her way. She pressed herself closer to the pine tree as the sound of boots crunching in the snow grew louder. He was so close now. Just a few more seconds…
With a warbling battle cry, Darcy burst around the tree trunk and flung the tightly packed snowball as fast as she could. She couldn’t wait to land a hit on Captain sassy-pants America… He’d caught her so many times she was developing a snow allergy. (Really! Totes-legit!) She’d even followed him all week to know which paths he liked to walk. As she threw her triumphant fists in the air she saw, to her dawning horror, NOT the blue eyes of Steve Rogers, but the stormy, deep, entrancing, and oh so brain-spaz inducing (at least for Darcy) blue eyes of the man formerly known as the Winter Soldier – James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes.
Theoretically Darcy knew that it was very possible to run into him on this little ‘Avengers and Friends’ snow holiday, but she had obviously not prepared herself for the reality. In an instant her mind cataloged the differences since she’d last seen or spoken to him. He was definitely looking less murdery, even after being bashed in the face with a random snowball. There was also a softness to his face that spoke of decent rest, proper nutrition, and time spent around people who honestly care for you. His eyes held a gleam of…oh no Darcy Lewis is in so much trouble cause that right there is a naughty-naughty gleam and with an ultrasonic squeal she went tearing through the snow.
She’d thought about the day they met quite a bit (almost constantly) immediately after. She went through phases of anger, sadness and relief. Eventually, she put it aside and tried to move on with her life. Then the news came in that the Winter Soldier was in from the cold and successfully shaking the programming HYDRA had tortured into him. More and more of the good man he had been before was coming to the surface. Jane had asked her recently if she thought she should bring up the whole soulmate thing, and honestly she was really considering it. Dude seemed like a stand up kind of guy these days, especially now that he wasn’t stalking around trying to kill her…
She hadn’t made it more than a few steps in her frantic ‘protect Darcy from all the snowball retribution’ flight when she heard his smooth voice call after her.
“Running will not save you.”
She was shocked into place from hearing those same words a second time. She’d had Steve ask Bucky, once the man’s memories had started clearing, if Bucky remembered what he’d said to Darcy before Steve crashed through the window to save her. The poor Captain had been confused by her request. He was too polite to pry but it was confirmed. Bucky barely remembered ever having seen her, let alone speaking to her. For all he knew they’d never even given each other the time of day.
She whipped around to see if he knew the words he’d just said were the words running down the right side of her abdomen, or if realized he’d said those words to her once before in a very different situation. But he wasn’t there.
A small displacement of air behind her had her turning rapidly once more, just in time to see him dropping from a branch and landing almost soundlessly in the snow. Before her brain could catch up, her mouth was already whispering “Son of a bitch that was smooth!” She eyed him appreciatively as a full blown smirk stole across his stupidly handsome face. She cocked a brow and decided to go for broke. “Well, get on with it buck-o. I obviously don’t stand a chance against you.”
This time there was no doubt he knew what had just happened between them. His right hand flew to his left bicep gripping the hard metal, a momentary echo of pain giving way to growing panic. “It’s gone, but it was there! Those words… your words I swear! I remember them wrapping around right here” he said as he drew a line across his sleeve. His eyebrows crinkled and his eyes began to fill with desperation. “Stevie will know! Please, let’s go find Steve and he’ll tell you…” The man practically begged.
Darcy didn’t need proof. She’d felt the searing pain in her soul over a year ago when she realized that her soulmate did not recognize her. She wasn’t about to let him go through that same agony for any length of time. “We don’t need to get Steve.” Darcy told him calmly as she reached for his hands.
“We don’t?” He asked, in a quiet expulsion of breath.
She just smiled back and asked with a saucy wink “So, you gonna get on with it… or not?” as she dropped her gaze to his lips. Said lips remained slightly parted in shock for just a few moments more before they curled into a delighted smile and then dropped softly onto hers.