Chapter Text
“See, princess? She’s right in here. She’s gotta make something to make you feel better, yeah?”
Darcy glanced back over her shoulder to find Bucky standing in the doorway of the kitchen with Poppy propped against his hip, her arms around his neck, cheek to cheek.
It was unspeakably adorable. Infuriatingly cute.
“Hi, sweetie,” Darcy cooed as she walked over to the pair. “You feeling any better?”
Poppy made a small disgruntled noise and shook her head.
“I’m almost finished up making your medicine,” Darcy promised. She brushed Poppy’s bangs back from her forehead and pressed her lips to Poppy’s forehead to check her temperature. “You’re still pretty warm. Are you gonna be okay with Bucky until I’m done?”
Poppy nodded before lifting her head to make better eye contact with Darcy, soberly murmuring, “He’s got a shiny arm. S’pretty.”
Darcy smiled at her, brushing her bangs back before tapping her nose. “I happen to agree with you. Be good, okay? I’ll be done soon and then we can get something tasty for lunch once your appetite’s back.”
“Mmmkay,” Poppy huffed, nuzzling back into Bucky’s neck.
“I’ll keep her out in the living room,” Bucky murmured, “put on some cartoons or something while you finish up in here.” He glanced between Darcy and Steve, eyes settling on Steve for a beat. “You alright?”
“Better,” Steve acknowledged. He raised a brow and nodded towards the little girl clinging determinedly to Bucky and warned, “You do realize that you’re going to have to give her back, right?”
Bucky gave a comically slow blink in Steve’s direction. “Finders keepers, Steven.”
“Don’t worry,” Darcy said as she patted Steve on the shoulder, “some of the charm will wear off after prolonged exposure.”
“Are you referring to Bucky or the kid?” Steve asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Both.”
Bucky huffed in mock outrage and settled Poppy more securely against him. “You see what I have to deal with? You’d never be mean to me like that, would you, princess?”
“Uh-uh.” Poppy paused for a moment to yawn before asking, “Can we do piggy-back rides later?”
“Why, you read my mind. I think that is an excellent idea.” Bucky glared at Darcy and Steve on the other side of the kitchen. “You two aren’t invited.”
“I’m pretty sure that there are several people in this tower who could give me piggy-back rides if I asked, James Barnes, and one of them is standing right here.”
Darcy rolled her eyes when Steve suddenly choked on his own spit, and Bucky was laughing at both of them when he carried Poppy back out into the living room.
A few moments after she heard the television click on on in the living room, and a whining meow that signaled Honey’s return to her apartment, she realized the weight of Steve’s gaze on her back and tilted her head back to look at him.
“I’m pretty sure that even in your day your mother taught you that it’s impolite to stare.”
Steve ducked his head and smiled, eyes still on her.
“Okay, c’mon,” she coaxed. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“A few months ago, I never would have thought that I would get to to see that,” Steve said, nodding towards Bucky and Poppy in the living room. “But you brought him back to me, Darce, in more ways than one. And you made this place feel like a home for both of us, and sometimes I feel like we owe you a debt bigger than we can ever repay.”
Darcy squirmed under the praise, her cheeks growing warm, and stared a little too intently into the pot on the stove under the guise of checking to see if it had finished brewing. “You don’t owe me anything. Either of you.”
“Maybe owe isn’t the right word,” Steve conceded. “But I don’t want it to seem like we don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for us.” It was Steve’s turn to squirm, and he cast a furtive glance towards the living room--a reminder that Bucky could no doubt hear everything being said--before admitting, “When I first started looking for Bucky after DC, I never let myself think that we could have something like this. And I don't know what would've happened without you. So thank you.”
Darcy blinked rapidly, trying to keep herself from crying, and sniffed once before saying, “Steven Grant, get out of my kitchen before you make me cry and I have to start this all over again.”
He pushed off of the counter with a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“But you owe me a hug later,” Darcy called out behind her. “Maybe more than one. Maybe a piggy-back ride if I need to show-up Barnes later.”
“I can handle that,” Steve answered, before leaving her alone in the kitchen, more frustrated than ever.
***
Sam Wilson stared at Bucky and Steve as they walked onto the elevator with their arms full of paper bags of what smelled like soup and sandwiches from Darcy’s favorite deli.
“So…” he led on, pointedly looking at the bags full of food. “How did it go?”
“How did what go?” Bucky asked.
The sly smile promptly slid off of Sam’s face. “Oh hell no. JARVIS, stop the elevator.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Sam, what are you doing?” Steve asked.
“You two have both been in the same place as Darcy for--” Sam checked his watch, “--twelve hours, and according to the other people who were on that landing pad last night, Steve ran off the jet and all of you disappeared very quickly. So I thought that this whole thing had finally been resolved.”
“What thing would that be?” Bucky’s eyebrows had nearly disappeared into his airline.
“The thing where all three of you are in love with each other but you’re all too terrified to actually say something about it in case it backfires. If Steve hadn’t been pulled out on that Assemble call, this could have all been taken care of after Darcy’s chat with Natasha, but no… ” Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started tapping at the screen. “And I am sorry, but you brought this on yourselves.” Sam exchanged the bag of food in Steve’s arms for his cell phone, which was sounding out a tinny dial tone from the speakers.
“Hello?”
“Mama, Steve and Bucky need your help.”
The supersoldiers stared at Sam, utterly gobsmacked.
“Do you mean to tell me that they still haven’t made any progress with that girl?”
“Well, I think that depends on what you mean by progress, ma’am,” Bucky said with a pointed glare at Sam.
“If you’d made sufficient progress, young man, my son would not have just ambushed you on speakerphone, now would he?”
“No, ma’am,” Bucky and Steve capitulated in unison.
“Now you boys listen to me, and you listen good: you are going to buy that girl some very nice flowers and her favorite sweet, you are going to tell her how you feel and what you want, and then you are going to let her decide whether or not she would like to go out to a very nice dinner with you later in the evening. And you are going to give her more than enough time to get ready for that dinner. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they chimed.
“We’ll need to wait until tomorrow, since Darcy’s looking after a sick kid today--” Bucky directed the last bit towards Sam, “but we do appreciate the advice, Ms. Wilson.”
“You do what I told you and you can both call me Dora and come down for the Fourth of July cookout, how’s that?”
“You don’t want to know what she’ll do to you if you don’t do as you’re told,” Sam warned as he pushed the release button for the elevator.
“No, you most certainly don’t,” Sam’s mom echoed. “Now y’all take care, ya hear? And Samuel, this does not count as your weekly call home, are we understood?”
“Yes, mama. Love you.”
“I love you too. Keep an eye on those fools for me.”
Sam sighed and took the phone back from Steve. “I always do. I’ll call you later, mom.”
“Was that entirely necessary?” Bucky asked after Sam had stowed his phone back in his pocket.
“Well I had hoped that you two would manage to pull your heads out of your asses without my mother’s interference--or that Darcy might beat you to the punch given Natasha’s hints the other week--but I got tired of waiting. And I am tired of getting texts from my entire family asking for a status report on The Thing.”
The elevator door opened and Sam stepped out onto his floor before pointing at Steve and Bucky in turn. “Get your goddamn house in order, or so help me Natasha and I will do it in the most embarrassing way possible.”
The door closed before either Steve or Bucky could respond.
“What exactly do you think Natasha told her?” Steve whispered to Bucky.
“Damned if I know.” Bucky shrugged. “Why the hell are you whispering?”
Steve bumped his forehead into the elevator wall, careful not to crush the bag in his arms. “Do you suppose normal people have to deal with this kind of thing?”
Bucky snorted. “What the hell is normal?”