Coffee.

She needed coffee. Like now. And the little coffee shop she normally went to, for some godforsaken reason, only had one person working behind the counter. It's winter, It's seven in the morning, and this was goddamn New York City so the line was literally out the door and without her coffee Darcy was about five minutes away at any given moment from going dark side and rampaging around the streets declaring herself Doctor Decaf.

The low chuckle behind her brought her attention to the fact that she might have said that last bit out loud.

She turned her head, mainly to see who was laughing at her and whether or not she would be capable of taking them down without her little electric buddy, when a massive wall of a chest stared her into submission. She looked up. And up—Dear lord that man was tall. Jane would have mentioned if Thor was bringing any of his buddies down to earth, right?—a cocked eyebrow and clear, bright eyes met hers. He looked vaguely familiar but given the early hour and lack of caffeine, Darcy couldn't be bothered to think too hard on it.

"Doctor Decaf?"

"What?" She said defensively. "Alliteration is cool, you know. I bet I could give Doctor Doom a run for his money."

He smiled at her in response, "I bet you could."

Had that statement come from anyone else, Darcy would have bristled at the sarcasm, but there was something about the man's face and the earnest look in his eyes that had her smiling in response.

"Damned straight I would." She sniffed and held her head up high.

She turned back to face the front of the store, crossing her arms over her chest, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew in the open door. With nothing better to do, or think about, her thoughts drifted back to the man standing behind her. She knew that face. Where had she seen him before?

"Oh!" She whipped around, "I know you!"

The man's face began to color pink and wasn't that just the most adorable thing she had seen in weeks?

"You do?" He asked, his voice was softer and tinged with something like fatigue.

"I've seen you around Stark Tower. I don't think we've met but it's hard to miss you. You kind of stand out in a crowd, you know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm starting to realize that." He gave her a lopsided grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. Just before the sense of awkward had the chance to settle in around them, he spoke again. "What is it you do? At the tower, I mean."

"I work with Doctor Foster." She saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes, so she continued. "I'm basically a glorified assistant. I just kind of do anything and everything she wants, within reason. If I have time, I wander around the rest of the labs and see if anyone else needs anything, try to keep people from tapping on the glass and bothering the scientists, that sort of thing. It's kind of a catch-all job."

His eyes lit up, "I think I've seen you around, actually. Didn't you tape a 'kick me' sign to Tony's back once?"

She grinned, proud. "Sure did. He started it with a whoopie cushion, though. Man's got the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy." She paused for a moment, "So. 'Tony'? First name basis with the bossman? What is it that you do?"

"I'm, um," he seemed at a loss for words, "in security," he finished lamely.

She gave him a once over, lingering just a bit on the inappropriate side of too long. He started to turn pink again before she spoke up. "Well, nice to see you putting that body to good use. Jesus, you must spend all your free time in the gym." She reached out and poked his chest before gripping his arm and squeezing lightly. If he flexed under her touch, well, that would just be his little secret.

Darcy's eyes widened momentarily and she dropped her hands. "Sorry, dude. I get a little touchy feely when I'm decaffeinated."

He chuckled, "Is that what you'd do as Doctor Decaf? Go around cuddling people to death?"

Her face screwed up, "No way, man. It'd be way more badass than that. I'm just too tired to come up with anything clever at the moment."

"Honesty. I like that."

"Another thing that comes with a decaffeinated Darcy," she said gravely as he smiled at her.

His eyes searched the line in front of them and glanced at the watch on his wrist. "You know, being in security at Stark Tower, I've got some privileges."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like knowing where Tony Stark gets his morning tankard of caffeine," he looked at her meaningfully.

"Oh my god," Darcy's eyes lit up. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I'm saying so now." A small, mischievous grin formed on his lips.

"Lead the way, my good man!" Darcy shooed him with her hands, "Let's go!"

Just as they were about to reach the door she stopped, he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and slowed, turning towards her.

"Where are my manners?" She said and stuck out her hand, "My name is Darcy Lewis."

His hand engulfed hers as he shook it, "Steve. Steve Rogers."

"Well, Steve Rogers, congratulations on preventing the birth of a supervillain." She grinned and started walking again.

Twenty minutes later, as they were enjoying their ill-begotten coffee—which just made it taste that much better to Darcy—in the warmth and comfort of one of Tony Stark's private rooms, Darcy sat curled up in one of the squashy chairs, Steve in the one across from it.

She looked up from her mug to smile at him, "Steve," he looked up to meet her gaze, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."