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Where Are My Fucking Knickers?

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                                            darcy/bucky

 

 

 

 

 

"Someone still has their panties in a twist."

 

“You think, so?  Well they would be, if I was wearing any.”

 

Darcy turns sharply on her heel and walks away enjoying that for once she shut that motherfucking Winter Asshole down.  The jaw dropping silence of her nemesis made her feel marginally triumphant.  But she knew it wouldn’t last long.  The man had smart mouth…  he had a fucking mouth….  That mouth…..  NO!  She was Darcy fucking Lewis.  She took shit from no one, not even guys who had sinful looking lips and panty dropping smiles that shouted to the world that he most definitely knew exactly what to do with them. 

 

Not for the first time she imagined those full lips wet and glistening, smirking up at her from between her thighs….  Oh Christ on a Cracker, she was doing it again.  This was getting out of hand.  And she’d just told him she didn’t wear knickers, what the hell was she thinking?  Oh god!

 

Darcy ran the rest of the way down to the lab, chest heaving in half panic and face bright red.  It only took one look from Jane.

 

“OH dear god, Darcy, what did you do this time?”

 

“It wasn’t my fault.”  She whined, stomping one foot petulantly.  “He’s a walking menace of sexiness and douchery.  Seriously Jane, what the hell am I going to do about him?”

 

“Have you thought about not winding him up every time you see him?  Honestly Darcy you’re pulling pigtails with the guy.  How did it all start anyway?”

 

“You remember the Gala back in January around the time he showed up?”

Jane nods, setting down her pen and resting her chin on her hand.

“Well….”

 

 


 

 

 

Stark threw the best parties Darcy thought for the fifth time that night, then reminded herself who did all the work and amended it to Stark gave money to throw the best parties.  The music was perfect, the band amazing, all the pretty people dressed to the nines and the best part, the party food was to die for.  She’d been having a long night, lots of dance partners, some better than others, and she felt pretty in the dress Natasha had helped her pick out. 

 

She had offered to keep people happy and dance with plenty of the attendees when Pepper had worried that there weren’t enough ladies to partner with all the business men who had shown up without a date, so her dance card had been full. 

 

She had been in on the ground floor for planning the event when Pepper’s assistant had quit unexpectedly, and for the last three months, she’d been Peppers Girl Friday.  The charity they were supporting tonight was so important and she felt the need to make sure they raised as much from all these rich assholes as possible.  Game face in full force, she had shmoozed, flirted and flattered until they handed over their check books.  

 

She’d spoken with more people tonight than she had in months and listened to some of the most boring men on the planet drone on endlessly, Pepper had better be grateful for her sacrifice.  She’d played the part of airheaded idiot and stroked a few egos.  Hopefully it had encouraged most of them to place a big donation for the charity.

 

Her feet ached and she was hungry, which is why she was lurking by the buffet table, loading up a plate.

A few feet away she became aware of a conversation that she probably shouldn’t have been listening too, but if she tried to move away, they would notice her anyway and maybe be upset, so she stays where she is and tries not to listen.  She’s met Steve Rogers before, but she hadn’t met his friend Bucky.  The two men were arguing a little.  

“Come on Bucky, you loved to dance, you should get out there, live a little.”

“I’m fine Punk, just want to watch right now.”

“You know, there’re a lot of pretty girls here tonight.  In fact, I know someone who you’d love to dance with.  You remember Doctor Foster from earlier, her assistant Darcy a great dancer.”

“Just leave it, Steve.”

“Look, just give it a chance, let me find Darcy and I’ll introduce you.”

“Don’t bother, I’ve already seen the dame you’re talking about.  I’m not interested.”

“What do you mean you’ve seen her?”

“She’s been dancing around all night, never the same guy twice, she’s all fur coat and no knickers Stevie.”

Darcy almost choked on her canape.  All fur coat and no knickers?  What the actual fuck?  He didn’t even know her.  Who the hell did he think he was talking about her like that? 

“You’re wrong Buck, she’s a great girl, smart too, you…”

Darcy had marched over to the pair, fuming at the insinuation that she was all looks and no substance or if taken another way, a whore.

She upended her plate over his designer suit and threw the drink she was carrying in his face.

“I wouldn’t dance with you if you begged me to you judgemental prick.  Fuck you!”

She was shaking with rage and utter humiliation at his comment as she walked away.  It stung, it really did because she had liked him for forever.  It seemed meeting your heroes really wasn’t a good idea.

 

 


 

 

 

Darcy sighed and sat down, Jane looking thoughtful.

“Well, it wasn’t the best first meeting.”

“Not the best?  How could it have been worse?”

“Darcy, maybe he was just uncomfortable and wanted to be left alone, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.  He just didn’t know you yet.”

Throwing up her hands, Darcy gets up to pace again.  Jane may have a point, a small one.  But he’d still been rude about her.  Just because he had bad shit happen to him didn’t mean he could be super judgie and mean about other people.  Also, he never had apologised for what he said, she deserved that, at least.

“Fine, I’ll stop pranking him.  But only if he stops too.”

Jane sighs, this is going to go on forever.

“I’ll talk to Steve, see if we can get the two of you a truce, alright?”

“And an apology?”

“I’ll try.

 


 

 

Bucky spotted her in almost the same moment he’d walked into the gala.  She wore a red dress with a sweetheart neckline, the skirt flaring out just below her knees.  Steve had nearly run into the back of him when he’s stopped so suddenly so stare. 

She looked like a pin up girl from a postcard, the kind the guys had passed around and used for betting.  Everything, from her wide eyes and full, painted lips down to her hourglass figure and shapely legs made him slack jawed.  He hadn’t seen a dame like her since before and even then, none half so pretty. 

He hadn’t wanted to come along to this shindig, but Steve had persuaded him.  Now though, he thought he might just thank him.  Making his excuses to Steve he walked towards her as the band started up again, he was feet away when another man stepped in and claimed her hand. 

Undeterred, he watched and waited till they’d had their dance, again he made to go over and ask her for a dance when she dragged another guy out.  The same thing repeated itself a dozen more times.  She laughed and flirted and hung on every word of every man she danced with.  Well, there was no point in introducing himself if she was just out there looking for some rich sugar daddy.  Each man she danced with had tucked a check into her hand after.  He didn’t bother chasing after her any more.  She obviously had a goal tonight and it wasn’t a guy like him.

Standing on the side-lines he found he still couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  The way she moved tugged at some primal part of him.  He wasn’t the only guy affected, he saw the same lust struck look in most of the guys she had taken to dance, still following the sway of her hips, hours after. 

Part of him felt a little crushed that she was so obviously paying attention to men that were nowhere near good enough for her, but he pushed it aside and settled on feeling bitter.  What had he been thinking anyway?  She was very obviously someone

Even Pepper Potts stopped a number of times to talk to her, fawn over her a little.  Then Thor had caught her up in a hug and he overheard the god’s voice through the throng.  His Lightening Sister.  So that was Darcy Lewis, the girl Steve had nattered on about nonstop about since they had planned on coming back to New York.

He could see why Steve thought he’d like her.  She was exactly his type, from the thick dark curls to the plump lips and curves for days.  She was also a player.  Out to get whatever she could get from the men she enticed into her web.  He didn’t need that kind of complication in his life, it never turned out well with dames like that.

Then Steve’s beside him, bothering him about not mingling, like he’s deliberately not having fun just to spite the guy.  When the conversation finally tuns to Darcy Lewis he’s quick to shut it down and tell the punk exactly what he thinks. 

In the fifteen minutes they’ve been talking he’d taken his eyes off her, so when she suddenly appears in front of him to yell, he’s so shocked at seeing her up close, that he doesn’t see it coming when she tips her plate over him and throws the martini in his face.  She storms off, hips swaying, and he can do nothing but gape.

Steve snorts beside him

“You’ve done it now, that girl knows how to hold a grudge.  Now I don’t know what you think you saw in her tonight, but I guarantee you’re wrong.  She and Pepper set up the whole gala, and she’s been working her socks off getting the donations for the Charity we’re supporting tonight.”

Cold bitter shame eats away at him as he wipes himself off with a napkin.  He’d assumed the worst, feeling sorry for himself, and insulted her.  She had every right to be mad at him.  He makes his excuses and leaves.  He’s going to have to try and apologise the next time he saw her.  He’d been a jerk.

 


 

 

Weeks went past before he saw her again.  When he did, he never got a chance to say a thing before she flounced off, outta the room, and as far as she could get from him.  After that he found the strangest things happening. 

All his white things came back from the wash pink.  Every time he tried to use the elevator it would stop on every floor, even when no one was getting off or on.  His sugar was replaced with salt, door handles broke off in his hands and he found rotten fish stuffed in the vents inside his apartment.

Darcy Lewis was a menace.  She just wouldn’t quit.  He’d tried three times to apologise only to be shot down before he could get a word in.  He’d had enough.

She wanted to play it this way, well fine.  So, could he.

He doesn’t pull any punches.  The first order of business is to make sure he gets the last cup of coffee in the kitchen before Darcy shows up, he’s tracked her movements and has worked out her routine.  He places the coffee beans on the top shelf and sits at the table reading a paper, enjoying his breakfast. 

When Darcy stumbles through looking for her morning fix, she grumbles to herself before rinsing the pot and removing and replacing the filter.  Then she searches for the coffee beans.  Bucky leans back in the chair and whistles to himself as she swears when she finds them.  He’d also taken the liberty of hiding the step stool. 

“Barnes, could you get the coffee down for me?  Someone’s put it up too high.”

He can hear how she swallows the sharp sting in her tone to ask nicely.  He flicks her a glance and raises a brow.

“Please?”

 He thoroughly enjoys the way she says it.  Like the word puts a bad taste in her mouth.  With a smirk and wink he gets to his feet and crosses the room, reaching above her head to get the package down.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, Lewis.”  He hands her the beans but doesn’t let go right away.

“Thank you.”  She grits out, all syrupy sweet, his hind brain warns of danger, but he ignores it and gives the set down anyway before letting go.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it, Sweetheart?  Good manners never go outta fashion.”

God, she looks even prettier when she’s mad he manages to think before she’s pushing past him, and slamming every cupboard and drawer as she continues with her morning tasks.  He leaves feeling triumphant. 

His good mood lasts till noon when his lunch order arrives, and he finds his usual selection replaced with tuna of all things.  She smiles brightly as she passes him the bag with his name on it and watches as he frowns in disgust.  His eyes meet hers and they glare across the room.  Eyes narrowing, it only takes a second to click that it’s her behind it.  It’s on.

 


 

 

Things escalate from there, neither side giving in, both going to ridiculous lengths to inconvenience or embarrass the other.  Culminating in a particularly awful moment, when Darcy gets to a meeting, to find her power point presentation for the board, which is crucial for getting Jane’s funding approved, has been replaced with a slide show of pictures of Steve, Clint, Bucky and Sam working out in the gym.

Darcy storms into the Lounge, apoplectic with rage.  He’d gone too far, embarrassed her in front of people she had to work hard with, to get them to take her seriously, this was going to set her back for months.

She screeches his name loudly and he saunters into the room, best innocent face pasted on.

“Something got your knickers in a knot Sweetheart?”

Faced with him looking delectably mussed, dressed for the gym, his skin glistening with sweat, Darcy can’t take it anymore and feels herself start to loose it.  Before she can burst into tears, she slaps him hard across the face before turning and walking out.

He rubs his cheek gingerly, she’d hit him hard enough that it stung pretty badly.  He felt a twinge of guilt.  It had been a pretty low blow.  He winced again at the sting and wondered if she was alright, her hand must be pretty badly bruised from that.

With a sigh and guilt beginning to eat away at him, he tracks her down to the kitchen where he finds her running her hand under the tap. She ignores him and he can’t blame her.  It was a shitty thing to do.  But the words of apology die on his lips as he sees the faint swelling at her wrist.  

He grabs an ice-pack from the freezer and then sits her at the table, before taking her hand gently in his, feeling along the lines of her bones for any breaks and satisfied that it’s only sprained, holds the ice pack to her injured appendage.

 

Darcy still doesn’t speak and for the life of him he can’t find the energy to either.  He examines her from under his lashes as they sit there.  She’s hunched in on herself, her whole posture defensive.  This isn’t the same girl from the gala.  She looks tired and on edge.  Just as he opens his mouth to say something she stands, taking the ice pack with her and leaves without looking at him.

Tomorrow, he’ll apologise tomorrow and try and fix this.

 


 

 

It was another week before Bucky saw her again and when he did, he approached cautiously.  She had come to the kitchen for lunch, he’d had Jarvis tell him when she was heading here so she couldn’t avoid him.  She came in, tensed up and stuck and her nose in the air, ignoring him.

He felt like an idiot, hanging around waiting for her to acknowledge him, which she didn’t.  Trying to be helpful he poured a coffee for her.  She took it from him, looked him in the eye and poured it out in the sink without looking away.

His mouth opened before he could stop.

"Someone still has their panties in a twist."

“You think, huh?  Well they would be, if I was wearing any.”  She replies with an angry hiss.

In the time it took his brain to reboot at the sudden thought of what might not be under her skirt, she was gone.

“Damn it!”

 


 

 

“All I’m saying is that this has gone too far.  They’re making each other, and all of us, miserable.”

Jane glares at Steve, craning her neck to look at him.  He looked supremely uncomfortable and held himself rigidly as he peered down at her.  

It was odd, Steve thought uncomfortably, that someone so much shorter than him could make him feel so small with just one pointed and burning look as the one Jane was giving him right now.

“And your solution is to effectively lock them in a closet?”  Jane hisses furiously, fists clenched at her sides, crimson bursts of colour painting her cheeks with indignation.

“Not a closet, a safe room.  That way Bucky won’t be able to get out if he realises it’s a trap.”

He tries to step back but is hindered by the shelving behind him.

“Are you sure this will work?  Couldn’t you just talk to him?  Make him see reason?”

Jane crosses her arms now, glare still in place, ignoring the tingling in her arm as it brushed against his chest.

“Like talking to Darcy worked for you?”

Damnit, she hated to admit he might be onto something with that. She knew Darcy, she could hold a grudge long past its expiration date if she wasn’t properly mollified.  Coulson still had the scars to prove it.

“She was willing to consider a truce, if she gets an apology.  Which he owes her.”

Jane reminded him firmly.  Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, being careful not to touch the tiny astrophysicist when he brought his arm back down, the cramped space they were in was making it hard to concentrate, in more ways than one.

“Trust me, he knows that, but the two of them actually sitting and talking this out isn’t going to happen if we just sit them down at a table.  They’ll both grit out their apologies and then leave and continue to ignore each other.  He thinks she hates him, and she thinks he thinks she’s a floozie.  The truth is he likes her…  a whole lot more than he probably wants to admit out loud.”

Jane softens at that.  She wants nothing more than for Darcy to be happy.  If Barnes really did like her and they got over this weird ritualised hair pulling, mating dance and actually started get along…     Well, she could finally get a Friday night to herself for the first time in months.  One that didn’t include Darcy randomly waxing poetic about Barnes’ arms and how much she wanted to bite him, before going off in a rant about how much she wanted to make him squirm.

“And Darcy’s been crushing on him in spite of their prank war.  The tension between them is making everyone uncomfortable.  Fine.  I can fake a good science emergency.  I’ll have to do it when she goes to the kitchen to grab our lunch.  Lock down will prevent her getting back here.”

“I’ll make sure Bucky’s there when she shows up, he’ll take her to the safe room and I’ll lock the door on them, tell Bucky to stay put and that I’ll come back when the threat’s clear.”

Jane and Steve nod and then Steve lets himself out of the small janitors closet first.  Jane waits five minutes before returning to the lab, hoping this isn’t going to blow up in all their faces.

 


 

 

With the klaxons suddenly wailing, Darcy drops what she’s doing to run from the kitchen and get back to Jane.  They’ve done these drills before, she knows what they’re meant to do, but she can’t leave Jane alone in the lab.  Before she can get out the door Steve grabs her arm gently.

“Darcy. You won’t be able to get down there, the elevator and stairwells will be sealed till what ever this is, is dealt with.  Go to the saferoom off the den.”

Before she can even argue with him Bucky swings her up over his shoulder. 

“I’ll take her along, make sure she’s safe.”  He tells Steve, keeping her still with a firm arm banded over her thighs.

Steve grimaces a little, this is not a good start.  Darcy’s face is a picture of dismay and indignation.  She scowls at Steve threateningly before addressing Bucky.

“Hey, I can look after myself you Neanderthal, let me down.”

“No can-do Princess.  Rules say you’re meant to be tucked up nice and safe.  That’s what I’m doing.”

He’s marching off down the hall before she can object again and the shock of being thrown about like she weighed no more than a bag full of feathers makes her feel warm inside, even when she doesn’t want to.  She knew he was strong, but having it proved by way of his manhandling of her is more than a little unsettling.

“I am not a sack of potatoes Barnes.”  She hisses once the surprise wears off.  The klaxons are still going, and she wishes they would just stop.

The safe room door opens silently, it’s a panel in the hallway off the den that looks part of the art work, hidden in plain sight  Three strides inside, he lowers her gently to the ground, cupping her elbows to steady her as the world spins back up the right way up.  Before either of them can speak again the door slides into place and the locking mechanism engages.

“What the hell?  Steve, open the damn door.!”

The muffled words that filter through are almost impossible for Darcy to hear, but she can see that Barnes does.  Her heart sinks, they’re stuck in here till someone lets them out.  She is trapped with the guy she both loathes and wants to bang in equal measure. 

Thinking about what Jane said, and knowing she can’t escape him in here, she settles for trying the whole truce thing.  After the incident where she slapped him, and oh my god, she had not meant to do that, had felt horrible after, she had just been a mess. 

Yesterday, when he’d given her coffee, she had still felt so angry, even knowing it was at least a little like a peace offering she’d still poured it out, wanting to provoke him and it had worked.   She was still incredibly bitter about his comment at the Gala. 

Truthfully, she’d spent too long worrying about what others thought of her for years.  She knew how she looked, her figure and her personality seemed to make most men think she’d be an easy lay and normally, she wouldn’t have cashed in on that on purpose, but she had the night of the gala.  Charmed and danced with guys she’d never look at twice all in the name of a good cause.  It’s why it hurt so badly, that he’d seen that and judged her so harshly on it.  She could have explained, but why should she justify herself to a stranger?  She hadn’t been doing anything wrong.  The real fault was with him, he could have come asked her for a dance and gotten to know her before assuming the worst.  She let out a huff and sat down on the wide padded bench that ran long one wall. 

He hadn’t moved from the door, she observed the ridged line of his back curiously.  He was about as happy to be stuck here with her as she was.  It drove her crazy that as much as she disliked him, she couldn’t not want to be near him. 

Everything about him drew her in, and not just physically.   He seemed to project safety and strength without saying a word.  He’d even rescued a kitten from a tree last week, it had blown up the internet when someone caught it all on camera in Central Park.  Big tough guy with a tiny kitten, gently holding it and giving it back to the kids who’d lost it. 

She knew he was brave, admired his willingness to keep going out there to help people even when most would have sat back and tried to live a quiet life after the trauma he’d went through.  To say she felt conflicted about James Barnes was an understatement.  And he had great ass.  She leaned against the wall and let her head thump back. 

 

 

Across the room Bucky wasn’t faring much better.  If he didn’t think the little punk would enjoy it, he’d toss him out the back of the jet without a parachute the next time they went up.  He had a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t an emergency at all, more like a ploy to get him and Darcy to come to some sort of truce or resolve the problem. 

He finally faced back into the room and slid down the door, sitting on the ground.  One leg propped up, the other stretched out.  He watched her from under his lashes as she tipped her head back and let out an almost inaudible noise of irritation. 

The silence was oppressive, seeping into the space between them and becoming almost tangible.  Bucky shifted uncomfortably.  He knew this was the chance he needed to have a conversation with her.  To apologise properly like he should have from the beginning.    

He used to know how to speak to people, how to charm and disarm.  All that, seemed somewhat lost to him now, especially in the face of Darcy Lewis.  He’s never met anyone like her.  He wishes he’d kept his fool mouth shut all those months ago and let Steve introduce them instead of letting his own pride and the shitty assumption he’d made take precedence. 

She was nothing like he’d assumed.  She was smart and funny and kind, the sorta girl that was always willing to put others needs before her own.  She was also abrasive and stubborn and loud.  He admired her confidence and zest for life, she lived it in technicolour, every minute of it filled with meaning.  He had been right, at least in one respect, she was someone.  She mattered and was important, no one that knew her would ever make the mistake of discounting her, and it was exactly this sort of thinking that had him half in love with her. 

That she was also beautiful, dressed to the nines or in yoga pants and a hoodie, didn’t even make the top five of reason why he was so dizzy about her.  If Steve knew exactly how bad he had it for her he’d never stop teasing him.  Just as he gathered up the resolve to say something the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness.

 

“Barnes…”

“We’re fine…  Stay where you are, the emergency generator should kick in in a minute or two.”

 

Darcy drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, she hated the dark, the sort of dark they were sitting in right now, was the worst.  There was no outside source of light, the darkness absolute.  She felt like the walls were closing in on her.  She ticked the time over in her head, telling herself it was fine, there was nothing to worry about, the lights would come back. But the time ticked on and the lights did not come back on at all.

She could hear him, shuffling about, looking for something, then the muttered curses as he came up empty. 

 

“You alright Lewis?”

Darcy shook her head as her grip on her knees tightened.

“Darcy?  I can’t see you, doll, are you alright?”

“I’m fine….” 

Bucky could hear the rising panic in her voice.

“I’m coming over, don’t freak out on me, you’re going to be fine.”

“How the hell can we be fine?”

 

He doesn’t reply, just makes his way towards her voice, the room mapped out in his head well enough for him to find the bench and take a seat beside her.

He sits right beside her, pressing his shoulder and hip to hers, feels the slight decrease in her panic as she leans into him.

“Thanks…”

He listens to her breathing as she slowly calms down, thankful that she is at least able to take some comfort in his presence.

He closes his eyes, able to ignore the lack of light when they’re shut better than open.  He thinks it’s now or never and does what he should have done months ago.

“I’m sorry, about the gala.  I was feeling jealous and bitter and I made a whole heap of assumptions I shouldn’t have.  You didn’t deserve it, I’m sorry for what I said to you, none of it was true.”

 

“How long did it take you to figure that out?”  she asks waspishly.

 

He chuckles a little and lets his head fall back. 

 

“About half a second after you threw your martini in my face.  Steve put me straight.  You were helping host the event, helping raise money for the charity.”

 

“Yeah, I was.  I don’t usually do that sort of thing, but I figured for a good cause I could act like an airhead for one night…  but I still don’t get why you didn’t just come ask me to dance if you were watching me that much?”

 

He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks at her question and he was thankful for the darkness wrapped tightly around them.

“I tried, three times, you were always off with another guy by the time I made it over to you.”

 

Well crap, if that didn’t answer that question.  For a second, she doesn’t know what to feel, thrilled?  Happy?  Embarrassed?

 

“I wish you had…  managed to ask me to dance.”

 

Darcy pushes her legs off the bench and relaxes, the need to curl up starting to leave her.  She can feel his warmth at her side.  It’s grounding, keeping her from panicking again.  For a moment she wishes she could see him. 

“I’m sorry, about the pranks, and the coffee and slapping you.  I shouldn’t have hit you, it was wrong.” 

“I deserved it all, especially the slap.  I went too far with the presentation swap.  I’m sorry about that too, it was over the line, I know it could cost Dr Foster some funding.  I’ll come with you next time, explain if you want?”

“You’d do that?”

“Least I could do, I really do want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

She doesn’t say anything just ponders the words they’ve exchanged.  The silence between them isn’t as hard as before. 

“You think they locked us in here on purpose?”

 

She could hear the smile in his voice as he answered, feel the brush of his arm against hers as it fell to his side, resting beside her own.  She doesn’t want to move away, likes the soft prickle of the hair on his arm where it rests against her skin.  Although she can’t see anything, she knows their hands are back to back.

 

“Since I can’t hear anything worrying on the other side of the door, I think there’s a good chance we got set up.”

“But the lights?”

“I think someone was probably messing something up on purpose down in the labs.”

 

“Jane… “  Darcy heaves an exasperated sigh.  “I asked her to talk to Steve, see if we could find a way to stop fighting.”

 

“I can guess who’s idea this was, and It wasn’t Fosters, this little lock ‘em in a closet scam is all Stevie.”

 

“He must have asked Jane to fake an emergency.  Sometimes she gets carried away and the machines misbehave, especially if I’m not there to supervise.  Idiots.  We could be stuck in here for hours without the power to disengage the locks.”

 

“I’m sure they’ll sort it out soon.”                                                                     

 

She shivers at the thought of hours stuck in the dark and tenses up again.  She doesn’t jump when she feels his fingers brush against the back of her hand in a gentle caress of comfort.  It’s like he knows how she’s feeling, a little scared and anxious.

“I’m really not good with small spaces at the best of times, but with it being dark too…”

 

Bucky didn’t really think before he closed the distance between them and took her hand in his, tangling their fingers together and giving a squeeze.

 

“I’m not overly fond of the dark myself.”  He admits quietly.

 

“I wish I could see you, so I’d know If you’re making fun”  She quips half-heartedly.  There’s a certain honesty in his voice that tells her he’s not lying, even if the thought of the scary Winter Soldier being afraid of the dark is a strange one.

 

Bucky relishes the feel of her hand in his and pulls it closer to him, covering the back of her hand with his vibranium one. 

 

“I’m not making fun Doll…”  he doesn’t talk about his past much to anyone, not unless he has to, like the shrink they have him see every week.  There’s a part of him though that feels he wants to share this with her, it seems fair, since she’s so vulnerable herself and she won’t make fun, she’ll understand.   “When I wasn’t on ice, they’d lock me in solitary.  Six by eight feet, total darkness, empty concrete.  They couldn’t wipe me too often, needed my brain working at least a little.  Could spend weeks in there if some trigger-happy handler fried my brain too much.  They couldn’t put me back in cryo till after a wipe, but put me back in too damaged I’d not be ready to go when they woke me the next time.  So, cell time, darkness, weeks of empty silence…  I don’t like the dark, I leave the bathroom light on, the door open a crack, makes it bearable to sleep.”

 

She can’t help it, after that heart-breaking confession she just want to hug him, damn it.  She reaches for him blindly and finds his shoulders, she straddles him quickly and wraps her arms around him, completely forgetting her own aversion to the dark in the wake of what he shared. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t know what you’re apologising for doll, it’s just what it is.”

 

“It’s wrong and unfair and I hate that they hurt you like that.”

 

Moved by her fierce honesty he throws caution to the wind and gathers her closer, burying his face in her hair while her head rests on his shoulder. 

 

“Even though you hated me an hour ago?”

 

“I didn’t hate you…  I just really wanted you to like me…  before we met, I mean, I had been really excited to meet you, because you were always my favourite Howlie…”

 

“And then I fucked it up and insulted you…  I really am so sorry Doll, I’m an asshole.  I’d really like if we could start over.”

He feels her nod her head and then her hand brushes the back on his neck at the base of his skull, nails dragging through the short curls there as she pets him.

 

Darcy isn’t sure if it’s the darkness that makes her bold or months of wanting to be exactly where she is now that makes her do it, but she’s in his lap, cuddling him, and he’s pulled her close into him and the press of their bodies is turning her brain to mush. 

 

He smells so good and the way his hand is inching down to cup her hip and shuffle her closer leaves her feeling dizzy.  The fingers she weaves through his hair tug a little and his head lifts from her shoulder as she raises her own. 

 

“I’d like that too…” 

 

She tries to gage it right, to kiss his cheek in thanks for the apology and being so honest with her but she misses, just a smidge, the imprint of her lips nestling in the corner of his mouth.

 

They both freeze.  Darcy doesn’t dare breath as she feels his grip on her tightening, his fingers digging into her hips and then his nose is brushing against hers teasingly, testing the waters.  She nudges him back with her nose till their foreheads are touching.  Hot breath mingling between them, lips only an inch apart. 

 

The feel of her heart beating wildly in her chest leaves her a little light headed, the almost certainty of where this was leading causing an ache, low in her belly.   Should they be doing this?  They’d only just made up, fighting for months and constantly at odds…  When she tries to pull away, he holds her fast for a second.

 

“Don’t go…”

He knows how desperate it sounds, the words tripping off his tongue before he can stop them.  Her fingers tighten in his hair and he tries not to moan at the action.

 

“What are we doing Barnes?” 

 

“You know what we’re doing.”  He tells her lowly, willing her to listen to him.  “And it’s Bucky, Doll.”

 

His lips find hers and she doesn’t pull away this time, surges forward instead, and rolls her hips right to where she’d wanted to from the minute she sat in his lap.  Harsh grunts echo from them both as she grinds against his hardening length, the rough material of his jeans sending shocks of pleasure through her.  She whispers his name between kisses that tease and nip at her lips, a wave of heat flooding her and rising higher as his hands find their way under her top, exploring her body with expert hands, each searing touch drawing panting murmurs of encouragement from her lips.  His hands on her feel so right, like he had been made to touch her and make her feel this way.  No one had ever affected her so much before.

 

Neither of them stops or pulls away, both pulling and tugging at clothes until they’re both naked and he drops her onto the bench, crawling up and settling his body against hers, one thigh, nudging gently between hers, she doesn’t hesitate to open her legs and ride him, a hitched breath catching as he helps her.  A bomb could go off and she wouldn’t care so long as she finished what they’d started.   

 

In the darkness each sound is heightened, each caress sending jolts along nerve endings and she gets lost in the dizzy euphoria of touch.  He feels so good, every inch of his skin warm and hard, the powerful strength of him under her control as he lets her guide him. 

 

“Can I touch you Darcy?  Want to make you feel good, Baby-doll.”

 

She hums her consent and guides his hand where she wants him to go and the whimpered noise she makes when he cups her sex gently, calloused fingers teasing her damp curls apart before slipping between her folds and delving into the slickness, echoes in the dark. 

 

“Fucking Christ, Doll, you’re so wet…  is this for me, all for me princess?”

 

“All for you…  Oh god don’t stop… Bucky…oh fuck….” 

 

Her hips are straining to reach him, but he holds her still, pinning her with one hip and bending his head to kiss down her breast, nuzzling until he finds the hardened bud.  Teeth scrape softly over the turgid skin, then he’s pulling it into his mouth with a long draw of his tongue and a filthy sound of satisfaction that leaves her a panting whimpering mess.

 

Clever fingers find her clit, gently nudging at the hood and drawing light circles with the soaking evidence of her arousal.  She was so close to coming and he’d barely touched her.  She loses herself to the intoxicating feeling of him holding her close, pressing her face into his shoulder, kissing whatever skin she can reach and rubbing one cheek where the flesh and metal meet, muttering curses and encouragement to him in equal measure. 

 

He can’t believe she’s letting him kiss her, touch her.  Her skin is soft and warm and the scalding heat of her core and the well of wetness he finds there drives his hips forward, his cock leaking as he ruts against her leg.  He can feel her body tightening, her back drawing into a bow as he brought her close.  He’s careful as he pushes one finger inside her, relishing the way she cries out, he lets her push her hips up then, riding the heel of his hand, she whispers into his ear begging for him to fuck her.

 

“Not yet sweet girl, want you to come around my fingers…  want to feel you gush all over my hand…”

 

She grips his neck and pulls his head back to kiss her, open mouth, wet and filthy as he eases a second finger into her core. 

 

Darcy cries into his mouth and feels her body begin to shake, it’s too much, his fingers thrusting, the heel of his thump rubbing and pressing into her clit, and then his searching fingers find the spot inside her that makes her fly apart.  

 

He praises her as she comes, fingers continuing to fuck her gently as she floats back to earth.  Then his hand is gone and she can’t see, but she can hear him sucking his fingers and moaning.

 

“Taste so good Doll.”

 

That’s all it took for the want and the ache to come back full force, the thought of him licking his fingers clean of her come pushing buttons she didn’t know she had.

 

“Bucky…  want you… please… please…”

 

“What do you want doll, tell me, I just want to make you feel good.”

 

“You make me feel so good… want your cock, want you, need you inside me, please…”

 

Bucky kisses he neck and closes his eyes, trying to fully control himself.

 

“Don’t have a condom on me sweetheart…”

 

“Don’t care, need you….  I’m on the pill, I’m clean…  we’re good.”

 

It’s still a risk he considers carefully, even the pill isn’t perfect.  But she feels so good and while he’s been distracted thinking of logistics she’s reached for his cock, grasping it in her tiny hand, making long strokes as she twists her wrist, rubbing a finger round the head and spreading the pre-cum over the sensitive flesh, teasing at the foreskin and pulling it back gently, before squeezing him firmly.  His eyes roll back in his head and he pulls her over him, rolling till she’s sitting over his thighs.

 

“You sure doll…? “

 

“Shh, it’s fine.”

 

Darcy lifts herself up and shuffles forwards a little, until she can line them up nicely.  His hands grasp her hips and she guides him into her.  He’s thick and hard and hot, the head of his cock pushing past her entrance as she lowers herself carefully, tiny bounces, bringing them together.  The noises she’s drawing from him, gratifying, as she slowly works him inside. 

 

One of his hands drifts from her hip up to cup her breast, squeezing lightly, before finding her nipple and tugging it.  She whimpers and rolls her hips into his, all of him now pulsing deep inside her, her walls fluttering as he stretches her. 

 

Oh fuck, oh god, he feels so good, the feeling of fullness causing her to rock against him.  His hips jerk under her and he thrusts up into her, driving himself to the hilt. 

 

Darcy cries out his name and they slip into a desperate dance, hips rolling, lifting and falling as they chase each other along the path.  Each time she pulls him deeper, chanting his name as he calls her Doll and Sweetheart and Princess. 

 

She never thought someone talking to her and telling her how good she is, how pretty and perfect and tight she is, how much he loves the feel of her clenching his cock with her walls, would send her body spinning. 

 

Sweat and slick make it easy to slid against him.  She doesn’t know how he does it, but he’s suddenly sitting up, one hand on her back, pulling her against him so he can kiss her, their rhythm unbroken, bodies caught in a race to a finish. 

 

When she feels the cool metal reach between them, unerringly finding her swollen nub, she nearly cries, it’s too much, she can’t…  Oh god, she’s going to….  A few firm strokes and she shudders, a keening wail escaping her as she comes around him, her core clamping down hard on his length. 

 

He doesn’t stop even as she feels her body start to go limp as he thrusts into her faster, prolonging the orgasm for longer than she thought possible, then he’s coming with a shout of her name, muttering fucks and sweethearts into her neck as he empties himself inside her.  The hot bursts of his cum and his cock twitching so deeply in her centre has her jerking against him helplessly, a tiny rush of renewed pleasure rippling through her. 

 

She can feel him shaking beneath her touch, just as overwhelmed and strung out from the intensity of their love making as she is.  He falls back, drawing her down with him, his hands running up and down her back and sides, caressing and soothing her as she catches her breath. 

 

It’s never felt as good as that before.  He has completely ruined her for other men she thinks sleepily as he draws patterns on her skin.  She smiles into his chest as he kisses the top of her head, breathing in her scent.  She feels his hand draw up to cup her jaw, tugging her up a little till he can give her a soft, sweet, languid kiss.

 

“I can’t wait till we can do that again and I can watch you come apart on my cock, Doll.”

 

In that moment she’s glad he can’t see the expression of shock and the blush that covers her cheeks.  He wanted to do this again?  It wasn’t just a one-time thing?  She kisses him back and hums an agreement, reluctant to climb off him or for the moment to end.

 

“For a girl that never shuts up your awfully quiet, Sweetheart.”

 

“I’m just happy.”  The words are out before she can stop them, but she doesn’t have a chance to worry she’s given too much away.

 

“Then I want to always make you happy, Darcy.”

 

Even though she can’t see him in this lasting darkness, her head rises up anyway in shock.  Which is when the lights come back on and she’s blinking hard to see again.  When her sight finally returns, she’s looking right at him, his eyes full of some emotion she’s scared to try naming right now.  He gives her the softest of smiles and pulls her against him, kissing her till she’s breathless. It feels like a promise, although she’s not sure exactly what the promise is.  She kisses him back the same way, she does not want this to end. 

 

They dress quickly, aware that they might be rescued any moment.  They don’t talk about what they’re going to do when they get out of here but as the door rolls back to reveal a rather guilty looking Jane and Steve, Bucky takes her hand in his and pulls her along with him.  The stunned look on both their friends faces as they march past gives her at least a little satisfaction, and really, she should be grateful, she had, after all, had the most mind-blowing sex of her life.

 

She has to run to keep up with his long strides and manages to keep her giggles stifled till they reach the lift.  Once inside they both lean against the walls laughing, sharing a look of glee between them

 

It’s only when he pulls her into his arms to kiss her again that she notices what’s missing from her current wardrobe.  His hand has slipped under her skirt and is grasping her ass possessively.  No knickers, she’s not wearing any knickers.  She must have missed them when they were dressing, but she’d looked around the room…  she feels him smile into her mouth as though he knows what she’s thinking.

 

“Barnes… where are my fucking knickers?”

 

Bucky pats his pocket and winks at her.

 

“Thought you weren’t wearing any?”

 

She can’t help but groan and let her head fall against his chest. 

 

“Are you going to start stealing my panties you deviant?”

 

“Well, if you aren’t wearing any, you can’t get ‘em in a twist now, can you?”

 

He’s a menace, she decides wryly, a sexy walking menace of douchery, but right now he’s her menace and, she thinks, she just might keep him.

 

The End.