Don't own. Don't sue.

Sometimes Darcy still couldn't believe she got to go home with Steve Rogers. The man put out a damn "slut-signal" anytime they went out. He even got hit on when they accidentally went to a gay club. It wasn't surprising; he could charm the habit off a nun and though he wasn't conventionally beautiful like their friend, Sam, or particularly rugged like Thor or Clint, he was easily the most attractive man she had ever seen. And he was genuinely nice to boot. Natasha wasn't kidding about him being "perfect Steve" when she initially set the pair up.

Their first date was actually a complete disaster.

She spilled wine on her brand new dress, he fell asleep during the movie, and when they were saying goodnight, they were cock-blocked by her alcoholic neighbor who decided it was the perfect night to vomit, loudly, in the bushes. Nearly three months later, they reconnected and agreed to give it another shot. Alcoholic neighbor and all.

Darcy didn't particularly like the attention he got from other women, until it was time to pull him away and take him home. She relished in the slack-jawed faces of the girls when she'd whisper in his ear and lead him toward the door, his arm securely around her waist. It was childish and silly but she didn't care. And when they got back to whichever place they were staying at, and he was buried deep inside her, panting her name, it was like a victory cry.

She turned her attention away from the bar where some busty brunette laughed too loudly at something Steve just said, and back to the group at her table. They were a nice enough, even if they didn't really have that much in common.

"So Tony and I installed our sex swing last weekend," Pepper commented, sipping her martini. The rest of the group stopped mid-sip and stared at her in disbelief. "What?" she asked with a smirk.

"Well holy hell, Potts, you can't just lay that shit on us like you just bought another pair of shoes or some shit like that."

"I think what Clint is trying to say," Jane piped up, shooting Clint a scowl, "is that... we wouldn't expect you to drop that into an everyday conversation."

It was true. Pepper Potts was a society belle through and through - always polite and sweet and soft-spoken. She really did a number on her parents when she brought the very non-debutante appropriate Tony home to meet them. They joked his crassness rubbed off on her, but he assured them there was a lot more to that girl than met the eye. Something painfully obvious to everyone now that she was sitting in a booth talking about a sex swing.

"I thought we were sharing," Pepper explained innocently. "It's so much fun, you guys."

Jane quietly cleared her throat. "Thor and I bought a new vibrator."

Darcy almost choked on her vodka cranberry and Natasha had to slap her back, hard, a few times to get her to stop coughing. "Excuse me?"

"Well, it's just," Jane let out a nervous laugh, "it's one of those bullets with a remote control? It's amazing and perfect because sometimes Thor is a little too rough when he comes home and feels bad when he inadvertently bruises me having sex. It's the whole immortal god-thing."

Pepper gave her a conspiratorial smile. "Toys are really the best, aren't they?"

"Oh my God, you don't even understand. At first we only used it on me and I swear, it was like the most intense orgasm I've ever had. But then, one time when we were fooling around," Jane stopped to giggle and check over her shoulder to where Thor was standing with the rest of the team, completely oblivious to their conversation, "I turned it on and set it against his taint, and I don't think he's ever come that hard. We had to buy another one just so both of us could have one."

"I slept with a guy once who wanted his prostate massaged during sex," Natasha offered, glancing at Clint pointedly.

"How, exactly, does one do that?" Jane asked. "Isn't the prostate-"

"I stuck my finger up his ass."

This time Darcy really did spit out her drink. "Jesus, Natasha!"

"What?" Natasha shrugged, ignoring Clint's glare. "It's what he was into. I didn't really care - as long as he took a really good shit and a shower beforehand. What did it bother me if he wanted a little extra?"

"Your turn, Darcy," Pepper said, once they got over their fascination with Natasha sticking her finger up a guy's ass during sex.

"Yea, Darcy, tell us something about Steve. He's probably into some weird shit, right?" Natasha added.

Darcy bit her bottom lip.

The truth was, Steve wasn't into anything weird. Sex with Steve was fantastic - even when he did finish before she did, he made sure to make it up to her. His fingers were magical and that tongue...well the tongue was like a gift from the gods. So the sex with Steve was a little vanilla. It wasn't like they only had sex in bed or with him on top, but he just wasn't into other things. At least, not that she knew of. They didn't really talk about what they wanted from sex all that often. She knew he loved going down on her, and he knew she preferred it when he was behind her. They had a system that worked for them - they didn't need to add anything exotic or weird to the bedroom. And she sure as hell wasn't going to freak him out with any of the things the other girls were sharing. Steve was a gentle soul and that was something she absolutely loved about him.

"Um, Steve's not really into any of that stuff. We do just fine on our own."

"Bullshit!" Natasha cackled. "Everyone is into something a little different. You're telling me there's nothing he likes to do to you or wants you to do to him sometimes?"

Darcy shrugged. "Sometimes we'll sixty nine. But that's about as 'different' as we get."

"You poor thing," Clint chided.

"Fuck off," Darcy retorted. "We have fantastic sex. Mind-blowing sex, alright? He doesn't need extra shit to get me off beyond what God graced him with, ok? And I'm enough for him!" She didn't appreciate the fact that they were mocking her for not having crazy off-the-wall fuckery like they were. She didn't make fun of any of them for being into sex swings or anal probing or whatever else they liked to experiment with.

"All we're saying, Darcy, is that unless you've tried doing something extra, how do you know it can't get better?" Jane asked in a comforting voice. She was trying her best to soothe Darcy and calm her down, but it was doing just the opposite.

"Why would I want it to get better? I'm sorry that my boyfriend gets me off every time we fuck, okay? And that I'm enough to get him off. What in the world would be better than that?" She glared at her friends who were all taking awkward sips of their drinks and eyed each other. "Fuck this noise!" she spat, chugging the rest of her drink and grabbing her purse. "I'm going to go get fucked by my 'perfect boyfriend.'"

She slid out of the booth and marched over to Steve. "Can we go?"

He set his drink on the bar. "You ok, hon?"

She sighed. "I'm fine. I just don't want to be here anymore." She leaned in so only he could hear her. "I really want you to fuck me, Steve. Right now."

Darcy smiled as his pupils dilated. He smiled stiffly at the stranger he had been talking to and excused himself. Darcy shot a look at the table she had just been at and was glad to see them all staring at her pulling Steve out of the bar. 'That'll shut them up,' she thought. As soon as they were outside, her lips were on his and they stumbled toward the subway. He trapped her between his body and a restaurant wall, his hands roaming over her. She could feel his hardness grinding against her, and she let out a soft moan.

Seriously - what could be better than this?

A loud 'whoop' from a group of passersby broke them of their hot and heavy make-out session and he smiled shyly. "So, your place or mine?"

"Whichever is closer," she answered, pulling him in for one more kiss. He groaned when her lips left his, and she shot him a knowing wink.