Chapter Text
Steve and his friends were good people.
Sure, they might’ve made a few mistakes in the past. Yeah, they definitely brought a really inconvenient amount of chaos to New York. And did they routinely leave property destruction in their wake from doing Avenger-y things? Absolutely.
But at the end of the day, they were just that: good people. A man-turned-national icon with a next door neighbor smile and muscles that could crush a watermelon, the brother of her dead boss’ situationship, a gorgeous former spy with eyes that made Darcy’s heart skip several beats, and the sweetest boy in all of Queens.
They always tried to do the right thing, no matter the cost. Darcy had seen Loki make a real effort to stop being a pathological liar (it wasn’t going that swell, but good on him for trying), Natasha struggle with being open with the others, and most recently, Peter have a panic attack at the sight of a little girl walking by with an Iron Man shirt. They were trying to be good people on top of being part time superheroes, and that was really cool.
They also tipped really well, which was nice. Darcy’s shoebox apartment was surprisingly expensive, and sometimes she wondered if she was paying for the rat neighbors as well. She didn’t mind either way; Mister Squiggly, Señor Nom Nom, and Little Joey were pretty decent company.
But Darcy didn’t let them know that she knew they were Avengers. They obviously had the whole sunglasses and tourist hat thing going for them. Still, once, when she approached their table to inform them that they weren’t exactly covert, all three adults had turned towards her and shake their heads. Slowly.
Then returned to listened to Peter tell them about how “MJ drew this really awesome picture of the empire state building the other day, oh my gosh guys, I have to show you! Let me get the picture out—“
The next day, Darcy noticed how Loki discreetly waved his hand right as they entered the coffee shop every Friday afternoon, and how Steve always complimented Peter on how well that week’s disguises had worked, and wasn’t he so smart, Nat? to which the Black Widow nodded sagely and gave Peter a smile that softened her sharp features.
Darcy muffled her grin. She supposed they had to know that she could see through the magic somehow. Still, there were any number of mutants roaming the world now, so she figured that for all they knew, she was just a mutated café owner who let them use free WiFi for four hours despite only buying two small coffees, an iced tea, and a cookie for Peter to scarf down amongst the four of them.
Darcy knew this was definitely bad business-owning, but she also knew that these people were hot, and having hot people around motivated her to make really delicious coffee and kept a peppy smile on her face. So really, it was a win-win!
Besides, it wasn’t like she couldn’t use the protection. She had been hearing strange rustling noises in the back alley and seeing suspiciously human-shaped shadows flit across the cafe after closing time. Occasionally, a muffin or two would go missing, and a small pile of coins or cash would show up in the cash register the next morning.
These occurrences had been going on for several weeks now, but Darcy wasn’t too worried. Jane would probably tell her to call the police, but Jane was also dead, and Darcy didn’t like to think about what Jane would’ve done. Jane’s para-dong shift —- no, that wasn’t right, was it para-dime? ding? —- well, her world-changing book sat on one of the cafe’s bookshelves. The book managed to give her a very disappointed look.
It was a rainy Tuesday in March, and the lunch crowd had just left. Darcy was busy counting the change in the Fight Cancer! jar when she heard a jingle. Looking up, she saw Steve came in early and alone, dripping with water.
Darcy stamped down a giddy grin. His shirt wasn’t white, sadly, but he was a sight nonetheless. Seizing the opportunity to talk to The Famous Captain America, Darcy brought her pen and notepad to the Avengers + Loki’s little table in the corner.
“Hey there, buckaroo,” she greeted him, doing little finger guns that she immediately regretted.
Be cool, Darcy, it’s not like his eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever stared into, and dear goodness he is biting his lip, be sexy, don’t move don’t scream don’t crap yourself—
“If it isn’t my favorite customer,” Darcy blurted out, putting a hand on her hip. “How’s it swimming?”
Was that Jane’s hand reaching down from Valhalla to greet her? Was this the end? Darcy could feel herself melting into the floor and going downwards, so that probably wasn’t a good sign.
Steve smiled, but it wasn’t a Captain America Smile of Righteousness. It kind of looked like a sad puppy left-in-the-rain smile, actually.
“Sorry about your floor,” he said, glancing down at the slowly growing puddle around him. “I’ll clean that up.”
“No problem, it’s just water. Water never hurt anyone,” Darcy said, waving a hand dismissively.
Steve made a sound of agreement, those sad blue eyes wandering to the display case. He seemed to focus on the small pile of mini plum cakes.
“Want one?” Darcy asked. “They’re half off on Tuesdays.”
They most certainly were not, but Steve’s eyes lit up with surprise and delight, almost like he hadn’t expected Darcy to notice. Well, Tuesday was cake day now, she supposed. Darcy made a mental note to post it on the cafe’s socials and make a sign.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” he said, and his smile became less rained-on dog and more slightly-damp-but-hopeful dog. “Thanks.”
“No probbles,” Darcy said, giving him a salute and waltzing over to the case. The cafe was small enough that she could talk to him from the case, so as she rustled around for a plate, she asked, “Want anything to drink?”
“I’m alright,” came his response. He paused. “Sorry, can I get that to go?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure!” Darcy bumped her head coming out of the cabinet, shooting him a smile and a thumbs up. She was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t get to have a yap session with Steve Rogers, but she couldn’t fault the guy for wanting to be at home on such a dreary day.
Darcy snatched a to-go container and popped the largest plum cake into it. As she walked back to the Avengers + Loki table, she noticed that Steve kept one hand in his left pocket even as he got his wallet out.
“Is your hand good?” she asked while she swiped the card across.
Steve looked down, entirely surprised, like he hadn’t even realized.
“No worries, you don’t gotta explain, dude,” Darcy said quickly, not wanting him to feel weird about it. It was probably just a tic or a temperature thing. The cafe was pretty frosty today.
The smile Steve gave her this time was soft and grateful, sweet like honeyed peaches in bright sunshine. Darcy felt the urge to squint. She should take a picture of this moment and send it to the Steve’s Smile Sightings fanpage on Instagram. This smile would really add some depth to the existing catalog.
(Not that she followed the account or anything. She wasn’t a stalker, but even if she was, being slightly creepily obsessed with Captain America was like, a rite of passage.)
“Any special occasion?” Darcy chanced to ask as Steve stood up to leave.
Blue eyes seemed to turn gray instantly as he shot one last (sad again) smile and walked to the door. “You could say that.”
In the seconds after Steve left, Darcy rushed to check her phone and scroll through possible national holidays. It was National Mario Day, but Darcy was pretty sure Steve hadn’t been out of the ice long enough to be fully cultured like that. It was also National Pack Your Lunch day, but Captain America wasn’t known for his love of sweets.
It was March 10th, and on a rooftop a few blocks away from The Sweet Spot, a lone figure sat under an umbrella, lighting a candle against a background of stormy gray. Large, calloused hands placed the candle carefully on top of the cake, and lips curved into a small smile. The figure hummed the happy birthday tune into the muggy air, swinging his feet as he sketched mischievous eyes and a rakish smirk.