Darcy slid her sunglasses down her lobster-pink nose and gave her visitor an unamused look. Seeing as how the sun, large and runny-yolk yellow, was setting in the background, she hoped it was as dramatic (and not gut-wrenchingly excited, be cool Darcy) as she imagined. “You’ve been in the 21st century for two years. I KNOW you’ve seen a bikini by now.”
Steve sighed, a bit frustrated. “Yeah, I know what swimsuits look like now. Why are you wearing one on the roof in the middle of a desert?”
“It’s laundry day, I’m out of clothes, and Jane refuses to share. It was either this or my Halloween costume from junior year. Oh, and nice to see you too.”
Jane had moved their operation back to Puente Antiguo for the summer. Darcy was less than thrilled - some of her belongings were still covered in dust from that first fateful summer - but dutifully packed up the lab, rented the moving van, and helped haul their butts back to the old car dealership. The things she did for love.
Except...she and Steve had started a relationship in the couple of months they’d been hanging at the tower. It had started with weekly movie nights - he was one of the only people who could tolerate her yelling at the screen. (Darcy’d always resent Jane a little bit for banning her from watching movies with her and Thor. Jane could snarkily comment with the best of them when she wanted to, but apparently doing it while Thor was watching ‘Grease’ for the first time was tantamount to cultural murder.) It was only after Steve casually leaned in and kissed her after ‘The Cat and the Canary’ that she realized that, wow, that sort of inconvenient crush was definitely not one-sided. It’d snowballed from there in the best way possible. They weren’t quite ready for the “I love you” stage, but, thank God, they were definitely at the “I’ll occasionally commandeer the Quinjet for a booty call” one.
“Come here,” Darcy said, pulling off her sunglasses with one hand and patting the lawn chair next to hers with the other. When her boyfriend had settled himself on it, she pulled the chairs together with a noisy screech and, satisfied with their closeness, lay her head against his arm. “When did you get in?”
Steve wrapped his arm around her, rubbing his fingers against the bare skin of her arm. “Half an hour ago. Fury said there were no missions for me right now, and Tony was flying to Malibu anyways…”
“Bless that man and his extremely unnecessary, cross-continental lifestyle,” Darcy muttered, pressing her face against his long sleeved shirt. Was it weird-slash-creepy that she missed the way he smelled? Seriously, he was like a human version of one of those Fresh Linen Bath and Body Works candles. Meanwhile, Thor was in and out so often that her clothes usually ended up smelling all metallic. “I really missed you, Cap.”
She felt a kiss being pressed into her hair. “Missed you too Darce.”
“Uh, it’s been two weeks. Hair kisses are so not enough,” Darcy teased.
In a sudden movement, Steve had flipped them over onto Darcy’s chair. Now he was the one backlit by the sunset, and Darcy’s heart fluttered at the smile on his face. “Come here,” he parroted back at her, before leaning down and giving her a much better welcome.
Thissss sort of got away from me. Darcy was supposed to be sunbathing to fit in better with the theme, lol. I love Steve/Darcy, but I’ve read so much amazing fic of them that this feels (to me, at least) sort of actually derivative as hell lol. Like I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve read a fic starting with these exact same words. (Epilogue to this: Steve and Darcy start making out, only to be interrupted by Jane and Thor coming up there to make out themselves. Awkwardness ensues, until Darcy suggests going out for pizza and watching Grease. Jane throws her the stink eye.)
Today’s charity link is here! The National Film Preservation Foundation helps to promote and fund the preservation of American movies.
