Chapter Text
Chapter One - It Happened One Night
Steve Rogers had lived in Stark Tower for a month before he realized how it ran. Not the clean energy end of things that Tony bragged about (and that Steve only pretended to understand). Not much of what happened on the R&D floors because he really tried to stay out of any lab that was not run by Dr. Foster or Dr. Banner. (And he sure as Hell stayed out of Tony's workshop because no one in their right mind other than Pepper went in there willingly.)
No, when he said "how Stark Tower ran" he meant he finally found out who ran it.
Turns out it was Darcy Lewis.
Darcy Lewis, the girl...woman...who had been living in the Tower when Steve arrived but whose job description seemed decidedly murky, actually ran Stark Tower. And, for some reason, when Steve moved in (after months of cajoling from Pepper, Phil Coulson, Natasha, and finally, from Thor) ...no one told him. Later he realized that it was because most of them didn't know either.
Darcy Lewis ran Stark Tower...or at least the residential portion of it, largely behind the scenes and without acknowledgment.
He found out by accident late one night, oddly enough because he could not sleep...and he had forgotten to buy milk.
*****
Stark Tower - Residential Common Area Kitchen...late night...
Darcy Lewis closed the cupboard next to the enormous common area fridge and tapped the screen of her tablet. They would be out of cereal within a day, that was clear. The hard part was deciding how much of each kind to buy. Thor was fickle when it came to breakfast cereals. He would find a favorite, eat enormous quantities of it, then fall out of love with it quickly. Darcy tried to keep up but sometimes he got the drop on her and she was left with six boxes of Peanut Butter Puffins that none of the other team members wanted. At least when he had gone off Captain Crunch, there had been plenty of other takers.
She heard a noise behind her and looked up.
Well, then...speaking of captains...
Steve Rogers, looking for once not perfectly starched and pressed, stood in the entryway of the kitchen. He wore sweatpants and a t-shirt whose fabric was doing a valiant effort to remain intact against the irresistible force that was his torso. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating just a bit. But really, why did all his t-shirts fit like that?
"Hey, Steve. Did I wake you?" Steve, not Captain America. It had taken her two weeks to remember not to call him by that name in the Tower. They all preferred using their real names here. Except Tony, who probably called himself Iron Man every time he passed a mirror.
"Hey, Darcy...no, I couldn't sleep... Then I realized I didn't have any milk in my place..."
He reached around her to grab a carton from the fridge, then a glass from the cupboard over the sink.
Darcy nodded, and opened another cupboard to begin the decision making process about which pasta shapes to keep on hand. When she assumed she would never use her political science degree in the Tower, she hadn't known what strong feelings Clint had about rotini versus radiatore.
"What are you doing?" Steve finally asked, after watching her count elbow macaroni boxes and tap her tablet.
She shot him a smile, even though she was trying to keep numbers in her head. "What does it look like? It is easier to do this at night when you guys are asleep. Otherwise, you all would distract me, or worse, argue with me."
"Do...what, exactly?"
Darcy blinked at him. "Oh, you're really asking. I thought you meant... Never mind, I'm doing inventory. Same as I do every Thursday."
"Inventory?" He looked over the rim of his glass at her, then at the cupboards. When he lowered his glass, there was a slight milk mustache that Darcy had to look away from quickly, lest she do something phenomenally stupid. Like use "lest" in a sentence out loud.
"Inventory." She repeated, pausing to count bags of egg noodles. Natasha claimed to hate kugel but Darcy had noticed that there were never any leftovers when she made it. "Someone has to make sure this kitchen is stocked. And it needs to be done weekly because, duh, superheroes eat a lot."
"But...why is this your job? Doesn't Stark have...something that does that automatically?"
Darcy rolled her eyes and closed the cupboard. "Look at you trusting technology. We've made you dependent on microprocessors already. Actually, no. As awesome as JARVIS is - and you rock big guy...." She paused to say to the ceiling.
"Thank you, Miss Lewis. As do you." JARVIS replied.
Steve raised an eyebrow at that. "Is he flirting with you?"
Darcy ignored his question because she was still working on the other one. Besides, her relationship with JARVIS was not easily explained. "As awesome as JARVIS is, this is a job for a human. A human that actually interacts with you guys, knows your moods, and preferences, etc. You didn't happen to notice how many more cartons of milk there were left in there, did you?"
"Uh...no, I didn't think to... I'll check now..."
"No worries, Rogers. I got it. It is my job after all." She squeezed by his large frame to open the fridge door again. Darcy felt his eyes on her as she shook the container he had just used, judging how much was left. She then checked the juice supply, as well as the cheese drawer, before closing the fridge.
"Why?"
"Why what?" She added chocolate milk to the dairy list and looked up.
"Why is it your job and not...Pepper's or someone else who works for Tony?"
"You think the CEO of Stark Industries has time to count cereal boxes...in addition to all the work it takes to keep Tony alive?"
"Well, when you put it like that...but don't you already have a job here? You work for Dr. Foster and Dr. Banner. In the lab."
Well, at least he knew that much about her. Well, that wasn't fair. Steve had always been friendly when they ran into each other in the Tower. There just wasn't a lot of occasion for them to interact, outside of this room. This was the one room where everyone needed to go. it was like Rick's in Casablanca. Or Cheers.Did that mean she was Norm?
Hmmmm...
"I do, but that job hardly keeps me tied up 24/7. In fact, after I organize their files, supplies and keep them watered and fed, there's actually a lot of downtime. And it was during that downtime that I figured out that this job wasn't being done so I had Pepper assign it to me."
By this time, Steve had taken his milk to the other side of the counter and settled on one of the stools to watch her work, which wasn't distracting at all. Nope.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Darcy, but since I woke up, I haven't met a whole lot of people who go looking for more work to do."
Darcy rolled her eyes. "I'm going to ignore what was probably an insulting but not altogether inaccurate assessment of my generation and just focus on the part that I hope was a compliment directed at me..."
Steve shrugged, not giving either way.
"What can I say? You hero-types are a good influence on my slacker self." She tapped her tablet again.
"What are you typing anyway?" He asked, leaning forward to get a closer look at her device.
"Inventory app. Pepper and I built it after I apprised her of the situation here."
"The situation?"
"Jeez, is that how SHIELD teaches you guys to interrogate? To just repeat everything the other person just said?"
"Sorry?"
"No, you're not. Yes, situation. When Jane and I moved in here, which was about two months before you did, this space was kind of an afterthought. The apartments were pretty much as they are now, as in awesome, but this area..." She gestured around them at the large open kitchen and lounge area, stocked with books, a giant screen TV, every gaming system on the planet, and tons of games, both digital and board. "...was pretty unfinished."
"I guess Tony figured everyone needed really comfortable places to chill out on their own but he didn't give much thought to where you would do that together. And I couldn’t see how you'd ever become a real team without that so Pepper and I put our heads together and voila..."
"Voila, what? You guys made this place?"
"Pepper gets credit for the design. I am pretty sure she has minions for that. Like actual little yellow ones in goggles..." When Steve didn't laugh, she looked up at the ceiling and said. "JARVIS, make a note to remind to Steve to look up the Despicable Me movies at some point."
"Noted, Ms. Lewis."
"Thanks, big guy. Now, where was I... Oh, yeah, the design was all Pepper but the strategy was mine. We had to set this place up so you guys would want to be here. That meant having food, drinks, and cool stuff out here so you all wouldn't stay holed up in your apartments when you weren't on missions. And you don't!" She added triumphantly. "But that also means someone has to make sure this space is stocked when you need it, hence the inventory. And inventory needs to be done every week." And with that she nodded at him, and tapped on her tablet again.
When she looked up from the produce section of her app, Steve was staring at her. "I've been here a month. How come I haven't noticed any of this until now?"
“Because you’re not supposed to?” she shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know exactly what Tony was thinking in having you all live here but I’m guessing it had to do with making it as convenient as possible for you guys to go off and save the world at irregular intervals. And the whole point of doing what I do is to make it as convenient as possible for you to be here when you're not doing that. Therefore it doesn’t make any sense for you guys to come back from fighting off an alien invasion and wonder if you remembered to buy milk.” She nodded towards his now empty glass.
“Wow, that’s a...good point. A really good one.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I don’t, I’m not... “ He sighed and stood again. “I guess I am feeling pretty dumb for not noticing what you did before. I’m supposed to be observant. Sorry for that. And thanks for doing all this. And for the cooking.”
“You’re welcome.” She picked up her tablet again, ready to tackle the produce. “Just remember to put that glass in the dishwasher. Cleaning up after super soldiers is NOT part of this job.”
“Yes, ma --- “
“And if you call me 'ma’am' so help me, Steve, I will never order black cherry ice cream for you ever again. I’m not somebody’s great aunt!”
Steve closed his mouth with a faint but still audible pop. Darcy went back to counting onions. Behind her, she heard the dishwasher open and close. After a moment, he spoke again, causing her to lose count.
“Can I help?”
“You want to help me count produce?”
He shrugged. And Darcy was reminded that his shoulders were massive. And she forgot the onion count again. “Why not?”
“Because it’s boring. And my job.”
“It’ll get done faster if I help, right?”
“That remains to be seen.” She sighed. “But if it keeps you off the streets… Which do you prefer, the counting or the recording?”
Steve looked down at her tablet, then frowned at her. “Really?”
“Was worth a shot. Thought you might surprise me.”
Twenty minutes later, Darcy closed out her inventory app and smiled at Steve. “All done, and marginally faster than I would have done on my own so thanks for that.”
"So what now?”
“Now, that order gets sent to Pepper’s suppliers, cc’d to her so she can pay for it out of the mysterious Avengers budget. Should be delivered Saturday as usual."
“So that’s why you’re always cooking a lot on Sundays?”
”That’s why I always cook on Sundays.” she affirmed. “So, that was probably boring enough to cure your insomnia. You headed back to bed?"
*****
Steve found he wasn't in a hurry to go back to his apartment. For one thing, he wasn't tired and staring up the ceiling having JARVIS read Google entries to him wasn't exactly appealing. For another thing, Darcy didn't really look tired either.
She was dressed for bed - a fact he had been trying desperately to ignore - in a black tank top and black and red flannel pajama pants. She had her hair pulled into a loose, messy ponytail that he noticed kept whipping over the back of her bare neck. Didn't that get annoying? He had wondered that about Thor's hair once or twice before too but decided against asking.
"No, I am actually not tired yet. I think that last mission threw my sleep cycle off. How about you?"
"Me?" She looked surprised that he had asked. Was is because they really had not spent a lot of time together...or maybe she was eager to be rid of him? The fact remained, that despite living in the same building for a month, he didn't know her that well. He knew she worked in the lab, had a quick sense of humor (even if he didn't get a lot of her jokes), that the others seemed to like her a lot, and that she was very pretty, at least in his opinion. She was curvy in that way that reminded him of the girls in the calendars that hung in the barracks. On the other hand, she could be almost as blunt as Stark and he'd once seen her win an argument with Tony over fire extinguishers in the labs by simply staring at him over the rims of her glasses. Darcy was not easy to figure out.
"Yeah, what were you planning to do now?" Steve had no idea what he expected her to say but he was struck by the reliazation that he didn't want this...whatever this was, this time that was just the two of them in this big space, to end. Darcy was nice to look at, surprisingly easy to talk to and his apartment was empty and silent.
"I, uh...usually watch a movie to wind down after I finish this. Want to join me?"
Yes! "Yeah, sure. So, what are we watching? Something from the last twenty-five years so I can get some of those references I keep missing?"
Darcy wrinkled her nose at him and stalked toward the couch across from the TV. "Shows what you know, Mr. Smarty Camouflage Pants." She grabbed a throw blanket and shook it out before draping over herself as she flopped down. "JARVIS, queue up the movie I tagged on Netflix please."
"Yes, Ms. Lewis. Shall I dim the lights as well?"
"Theater us up, J."
The television powered on and within seconds music swelled and the credits - in black and white - began to scroll. Familiar credits.
"Hey..." Without taking his eyes off the screen, he inched over the couch next to her and sat down. "I haven't seen this since before the war started. It was one of my mother's favorite's." He looked over at Darcy, snuggled up to her neck under the throw. She grinned.
"Well, I guess that's something we have in common. It's one of my mother's favorites too. And now it's one of mine."
"This is one of your favorites? This movie was made in the 1930s."
"So?" She nudged his leg with her foot. "You're not the only thing that ages well, you know."
And with that they settled in to watch "It Happened One Night." Whether by accident or design, Darcy had managed to pick an 80-year old movie, a film actually more out of its time than he was.
They didn't talk much during the movie but Steve found himself genuinely amused by all the little noises Darcy made as she watched, even the squeak she emitted when Clark Gable removed his shirt.
When the end credits rolled and JARVIS returned the lights to their previous level, Steve was feeling much more relaxed. He looked down and found at some point along Peter Warne and Ellie Andrews' road trip, his legs had gotten under Darcy's throw blanket.
Darcy sat up and stretched like a cat, shaking off the throw in the process and reminding Steve that, yes indeed, she was extremely female. He quickly averted his eyes as she stretched and focused on untangling himself from the blanket as well.
"That was great. Thanks for picking it."
"I picked it before I knew I was going to have a movie buddy. I am glad you liked it. You're just lucky I wasn't in the mood for my semi-annual Steel Magnolias cry-fest."
"Steel what?"
"Uh...that's an explanation for another time. If you're still feeling sleepless after that, Rogers, I can't help you. I'm beat and more than ready to go dream of Clark Gable."
"He's dead..." Steve frowned, realizing that he wasn't absolutely sure of that fact. "He's got to be dead, right?"
"Not in my head he's not. Thanks for the help tonight and the company. Night, Steve."
Darcy was up and off the couch before he could protest or do anything else besides rise to his feet as manners demanded and say good night to her return. She wiggled her fingers at him in parting as she disappeared down the hall and Steve let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding.
He had felt the overwhelming urge to ask he if he could walk her to her apartment but he stamped it down. Like so many of his instincts, the urge to see Darcy to her door was outdated and not really appropriate. That kind of behavior was for dates and this wasn't a date. It was two people hanging out watching an old movie because they both happened to live in what he had once called "that big ugly building in New York."
Except...the end had felt a little like a date.
End Chapter.