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Darcy loved her coffee more than anything. And the more cream and sweet things you put in it, the better, as far as she was concerned.
Second only to her love of coffee was her love of finding new places that served great coffee. She made it a point to try one new place every week. This took her to some interesting corners of New York, but more times than not, it proved worthwhile. And working for Jane, who kept irregular hours, didn’t mind if her intern disappeared from their lab in Stark Tower for an hour or two, as long as she came back with a caffeinated beverage for Jane, too.
Darcy’s search took her this morning to a tiny corner market that had an espresso machine, and the rumor mill said they made some of the best mochas in the city. Wednesdays were Darcy’s least favorite weekday and called for a treat, so a mocha morning it was.
The market had four tiny tables in the back, covered in red and white checked tablecloths of dubious cleanliness, with two rickety chairs for each table. Only one customer had been brave enough to sit at one. Something about him caught at Darcy’s attention, and while she waited for her order, she let her thoughts meander. If she tried to remember why he looked familiar, it would elude her, but if she didn’t force it, it would come to her.
The man curled around his steaming cup, holding it between his gloved hands, hunched over as if he knew he cut a threatening figure and was trying to make himself smaller. Dark hair hid most of his face, but there was something about his profile….
Oh. She’d seen that profile before. Passing through the common area of Stark Tower one morning last week, she’d found Steve, Sam and Natasha huddled over a file, with pictures spread out around the papers, and the profile in one of those pictures lined up perfectly with that of that man who sat only feet away from her.
Before her conscious mind caught up with her, she’d plopped into the other chair at the table. The man hunched even more into himself, not looking up.
“I’ve heard this place has great mochas, but this is my first time trying one. What do you think? Worth the trek across town?” she babbled.
He grunted something that sounded positive.
“I couldn’t live without it. Coffee, I mean. If they ever come up with an IV drip for it, I’ll be the first in line.”
The man snorted, glancing up at her briefly through the fall of hair, before returning his gaze to his cup. That one look was enough, though. No mistaking those brilliant blue eyes.
“So, New York’s a big city,” Darcy said as she rummaged around in her purse. You could never find a pen when you wanted one. “Easy to get lost here,” she continued. “Aha!” She held up a fine tipped marker in triumph! “But if you ever want to get unlost, I can help,” she finished as she wrote her number on a napkin.
She felt the change in Bucky, even though he didn’t move a muscle. It took all of her willpower not to scramble back from the table as he went from trying to look unthreatening to ohmygodHydraassassin in zero point five seconds. “There are people worried about you, you know,” she said, and congratulated herself on how her voice didn’t shake.
“Order for Darcy!” the barista shouted out, saving her from embarrassing herself or causing a national-news-worthy incident.
“That’s me. Take care of yourself, okay?” Standing and smoothing out her skirt, she walked away from the table, not looking back. Collecting the tray with the two cups, she stuffed a couple of ones in the tip jar on her way out.
The mocha was divine, which was a shame, because she wouldn’t go back there. Not for a while, at least. She didn’t want Bucky to think she was following him. He’d call or not. Or maybe he’d show up at Stark Tower. But it would be on his own timeline, she was sure.
Did Bucky like mochas? she wondered as she flagged down a taxi. Maybe one day, if she was lucky, she’d find out.