Chapter Text
The harsh morning sun jolted Darcy awake, her face flushing with the mortifying memory of last night's autocorrect mishap. "Oh, God, no!" she groaned, burying her face in her hands. Her phone, a dark rectangle on the nightstand, seemed to pulse with silent judgment. She fumbled for it, bracing herself for an onslaught of confused, angry, or, worst of all, hopeful messages from Steve. But there was only one reply: Me too.
A fleeting wave of relief washed over her, quickly followed by a new surge of dread. Was he dissecting every syllable, reading between lines that weren't there? The thought sent a prickle down her spine.
Darcy found Jane in the kitchen, absorbed in the rhythmic gurgle of the coffee maker. The aroma of brewing coffee, typically a comfort, only amplified the churning in Darcy's stomach. She slid into a kitchen chair.
"Guess what happened," Darcy mumbled, her voice thick with misery.
Jane spun around, her pre-coffee focus instantly replaced by alarm. "Did something happen to you or Little Jane?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over Darcy's pronounced baby bump.
Darcy shook her head, a fresh wave of mortification washing over her. "No, no, nothing like that. It's... it's Steve." She exhaled slowly, the words tumbling out. "He texted me last night. He's worried about me and Little Jane and wants us to consider moving into Avengers Tower."
I was just going to reply, you know, a quick, 'Still thinking about it,' but then... evil autocorrect!" Darcy threw her hands up in exasperation. "It changed it to 'Still thinking about you,' and then... I hit send before I could even see it!" She buried her face in her hands again. "And then he replied with just two words: Me too."
Jane stared, her eyes wide, then a slow grin spread across her face. Darcy glared up at her through her fingers. "Don't scare me like that!" Jane exclaimed, though a hint of amusement colored her tone. "I thought something serious had happened."
"I'm sorry," Darcy mumbled, rubbing her stomach. "Little Jane is still safe and sound, I promise." As if on cue, a gentle flutter, then a distinct kick, bloomed beneath her hand. Darcy smiled despite herself, stroking her belly.
Jane quickly sobered, leaning against the counter with arms crossed, a familiar hardened look settling on her face. "Steve," she repeated, the name a bitter taste on her tongue. "He disappears for six months, not a word, not a peep. Then he just waltzes back into your life, knowing you're pregnant, knowing he's the father, and expects what? A red carpet?" Her voice sharpened with each word. "He prioritized some mission over you, over Little Jane, over everything. He ripped open a wound that never even had a chance to fully scab over, let alone heal."
Darcy winced, the sting of Jane's words echoing her own long-held pain. Jane was right, of course. The abruptness of Steve's departure, the radio silence, and then his sudden, almost casual reappearance had been a brutal shock.
Jane's shoulders slumped as she sighed. "But," she continued, her voice softer, "feelings and emotions aren't like light switches, are they? You can't just turn them off and on. Especially now. You both have to consider Little Jane in all of this." She pushed off the counter and walked to Darcy, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ultimately, it's your decision if you want to reply to him. Or not."
Darcy looked down at her hands, tracing the lines on her palm. Not texting him at all felt like slamming a door that, despite everything, still had a tiny crack of light peeking through. Texting him to not get his hopes up felt unnecessarily harsh, like pouring salt on a fresh wound. She needed something in between. Something that acknowledged the situation without fanning the flames or extinguishing them entirely. A mutual ground.
Darcy sat in silence for a moment, Little Jane her main priority. She picked up her phone, her fingers hovering over the keypad. She took a deep breath, the taste of coffee finally reaching her, grounding her. She typed, then paused, rereading the words carefully: I'm not sure what to make of 'me too'... but when I'm ready to talk you'll know.
This time, autocorrect didn't rear its ugly head. The message was sent, a mutual ground laid, neither hope nor despair, just an open invitation.
Steve awoke with a jolt, the early morning light filtering through his blinds. For a fleeting moment, he was disoriented, but then Darcy's text from the night before flooded his mind: Still thinking about you.
A wave of warmth spread through him, chasing away the lingering tendrils of sleep. It wasn't a declaration of love, not yet, but it was a bridge, a hesitant step in the right direction. He lay there, replaying the words, allowing himself to bask in the fragile hope they offered.
His thoughts immediately turned to Darcy and their Little Jane. He yearned to earn back Darcy's trust and love, to have his family whole again, to be there, holding her hand when they welcomed their daughter into the world. He knew the path ahead was long, riddled with bumps, twists, and turns, but he was ready. He'd walk every mile, face every obstacle, if it meant a chance at redemption.
He knew Darcy, knew that common sense would ultimately prevail over anger, especially with Little Jane as their shared priority. An idea sparked: maybe Tony or Pepper could offer Darcy and Jane a suite, perhaps next to his, or even above or below. That way, he could be close, available without being intrusive.
He could offer to help her move out of their old apartment, a tangible act of support. He imagined painting a beautiful mural for Little Jane's nursery, assembling the baby furniture, taking classes with Darcy for new expecting parents—anything to show her he was committed, that he wanted to be there for them in every way possible.
Just then, his phone pinged. His heart leaped into his throat as he reached for it, a mix of apprehension and eagerness swirling within him. It was Darcy again.
The message read: Blame autocorrect…I'm not sure what to make of 'Me too'... but when I'm ready to talk you'll know.
He read it again, a slow exhale escaping his lips. It wasn't the immediate embrace he'd secretly hoped for, but it wasn't a rejection either. It was, as she had put it, a mutual ground laid, neither hope nor despair, just an open invitation. A silver lining in the lingering darkness, a quiet promise that the door, though still ajar, wasn't slammed shut. It was enough. For now.
Got it. Steve typed back, his fingers moving quickly, then he paused. It felt too abrupt, too dismissive of the carefully worded boundary Darcy had just set. He deleted it.
He thought for a moment, the scent of brewing coffee from his own kitchen filling the air. He wanted to convey understanding, respect for her space, and a quiet reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere. He also wanted to acknowledge the underlying reason for all of this—Little Jane.
He typed again, more slowly this time: Understood… No pressure at all… Just know I'm here for you and Little Jane, whenever you're ready to talk…I'll be here.
He reread it. It felt right. Respectful, but also firm in his commitment. He took a deep breath and hit send.
Steve set his phone down, the screen dark, and walked over to the window. The city was beginning to wake up, a gentle hum rising from the streets below. He knew this wouldn't be easy. There were months of hurt, unspoken words, and a future to rebuild. But he also knew that Darcy, despite her current anger and pain, had always been pragmatic. And with Little Jane as their shared priority, he had a fighting chance.
He thought about the suite idea again. It wasn't about control or even just proximity. It was about making himself available, tangible, present in their lives in a way he hadn't been before. He could help with the nursery, be there for any future doctor's appointments, just… be there. Not demanding, but offering support.
Steve ran a hand through his hair. This was going to be a marathon, not a sprint. But for Darcy and Little Jane, he was ready to run it. And for the first time in a long time, a genuine, unburdened smile touched his lips.
Sam, fresh out of the guest bedroom, padded into the living area, a questioning look on his face. He noticed the soft smile lingering on Steve's lips, a sight that had been rare in recent months.
"Everything alright, Cap?" Sam's voice cut through the quiet hum of the apartment, pulling Steve from his thoughts.
Steve turned from the window, the smile widening. "Actually, yes. Not a rough night at all." He picked up his phone, a familiar warmth spreading through him. "It's Darcy."
Sam raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his expression. "Oh? What's she up to?"
"I texted her last night," Steve began, a slight flush rising on his cheeks as he recalled the autocorrect mishap. "It was... a bit of a mix-up on her end, but it ended up being a really good text…Still thinking about you."
Sam's eyes widened. "That's a good thing, taking the first step, Cap."
"Yeah," Steve chuckled, the memory still bringing a lightness to his chest. "And then this morning, she texted again. It was a bit more guarded, basically saying she wasn't sure what to make of my 'me too' response, but she'd let me know when she was ready to talk."
Steve paused, then continued, "I just replied that I understood. No pressure at all. I'm here for her and Little Jane, whenever ready to talk. I'll be here."
Sam nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That's good, Steve. That's really good. You're giving her space, but you're also making it clear you're not going anywhere."
"Exactly," Steve said, a newfound resolve in his voice. "This isn't going to be easy. There's a lot to work through. But for Darcy and Little Jane, I'm ready to do whatever it takes." He looked out the window again, a hopeful glint in his eyes as the city truly began to awaken.
"I'm going to head out for a run," Steve announced, turning from the window. "I need to clear my head."
"Go for it, Cap," Sam replied, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. As soon as Steve was out the door, Sam pulled out his phone, dialing a familiar number. It rang twice before he heard Jane's bright voice.
"Hey Sam."
"Morning Jane. Got a quick question for you, if you’ve got a second."
"Shoot," she said, her voice a little muffled, likely from holding the phone between her ear and shoulder while doing something else.
"Did you, by any chance, encourage Darcy to text Steve last night?" Sam asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He knew despite everything, Jane would be tolerant of Steve, for Darcy and Little Jane's sake.
There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a sigh. "Honestly? I didn't know about the texts last night until Darcy told me. I just told her texting Steve was her decision. I told her if she wanted to reach out, she should. If she didn’t, that was fine too. Darcy’s a grown woman; she makes her own choices."
Sam chuckled, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "Figured as much. You always play it straight." He knew that even with her anger, Jane would always prioritize Darcy and Little Jane’s well-being above all else. He also knew that deep down, Jane understood that Steve’s presence, in whatever capacity, was important for their family.
“So, you heard about the infamous autocorrect incident," Jane muttered, a hint of amusement in her voice. "What exactly did Steve text back, after Darcy's second text?” Jane asked, her tone shifting. There was a genuine curiosity in her voice, but it wasn’t about Steve’s feelings. It was all about Darcy.
"Steve just replied that he understood. That he's here for them, and he'll be there when Darcy is ready to talk."
There was another pause, longer this time. Sam could almost hear Jane processing the words, analyzing them from Darcy’s perspective.
"Hmm," Jane finally said, a thoughtful sound. "That’s… surprisingly good. For Steve, anyway." There was a grudging respect in her tone. "It’s not pushy, and it puts Little Jane in there. Shows he cares."
"That’s what I told him," Sam said, a proud note in his voice. "He’s genuinely ready to do whatever it takes for them."
"Good," Jane replied, a new firmness in her voice. "Because Darcy and Little Jane deserve that. And honestly, despite everything, Steve deserves a shot at being there for his family."
"Why am I sensing a 'but' in this conversation?" Sam stated. "You're not going easy on him."
"Damn straight!" Jane replied. "Not easy, but I'm not unreasonable."
Jane ended her call with Sam and walked into the living room where Darcy is sitting on the couch. The scent of coffee still lingered in the air, a familiar comfort that couldn't quite settle the flutter in Darcy's chest. She looked at Jane, a silent question in her eyes.
"So," Jane began, a small smile playing on her lips, "Avengers Tower, huh?"
Darcy nodded, a reluctant sigh escaping her. "It's… for Little Jane, right? Proximity to, you know, everything. And him."
"Well, let's not dilly-dally.”. Jane replied, keeping any comments about Steve to herself.
Taking a deep breath, Darcy pulled out her cellphone and found Tony Stark's number. She put it on speaker so Jane could hear.
"Good morning, ladies," Tony said, a hint of genuine anticipation in his voice, his usual showman's flair toned down slightly. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this early call? Decided to accept my incredibly generous, life-altering offer already?"
Darcy, still looking a bit tired but with a new spark of determination in her eyes, didn't beat around the bush. "Jane and I talked. A lot. And, we would like to meet with you and Pepper to give our answer.”
“How about I send a car for you two this afternoon?” Tony suggested. “You pick the time.”
“2pm.” Darcy said.
“See you then.” Tony replied. Then hung up
Later that afternoon in Tony's office at Avengers Tower:
“Well, what do you know?” Tony’s eyebrows shot up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I knew you couldn't resist the allure of unlimited resources and my dashing wit. Welcome to the future, ladies!"
Pepper chuckled softly. "We're thrilled to have you both. We genuinely believe this is the best decision for you, and for Little Jane." Her gaze softened as she looked at Darcy's visible baby bump.
"There are a few conditions," Jane interjected, her voice firm. "First, our work is our own. No interference, no 'suggestions' from anyone, not even you, Tony."
"My genius is a gift, not a burden, Jane," Tony quipped, though he nodded in assent. "But fine. Autonomy, as promised. You're the experts, after all."
"Second," Darcy added, her eyes fixed on Tony, "we want a full rundown of your security protocols. Everything. And we want access to customize whatever we need to ensure Little Jane's safety. Every precaution, no matter how small."
Tony's expression sobered. "Absolutely. Consider it done. Our security is top-tier, but if you want to add your own flair, be my guest. We'll have a team dedicated to making sure you have everything you need, starting this afternoon."
"And third," Jane continued, a slight smile finally gracing her lips, "we want a proper, no-holds-barred tour of those 'cutting-edge labs' you've been bragging about."
Tony clapped his hands together. "My dear Jane, that's the easiest request of all! Consider it a date. We can get the paperwork sorted, introduce you to your new workspaces, and start planning world domination, or whatever brilliant things you two have in mind."
"Sounds good, Stark," Darcy said, a hint of her usual sarcasm returning. “Don't make us regret this. We already had one shady organization try to exploit our genius.”
"Wouldn't dream of it!" Tony shot back, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "Welcome aboard. This is going to be fun."
"There's just one thing," Darcy said, exchanging a glance with Jane.. "Where exactly would our suite be located?"
Tony chuckled "Ah, the million-dollar question! Don't worry, we've thought of everything. You'll be on the floor above Steve's suite. Plenty of space, top-of-the-line everything, and absolutely no chance of accidental neighborly encounters, unless you actively seek them out, of course."
Pepper, mirroring Tony's explanation, added, "We wanted to ensure you both had your privacy and space, especially with Little Jane on the way, Darcy. It's a beautiful, fully furnished suite. You won't need to lift a finger."
A wave of relief washed over Darcy. "Thank you, Tony, Pepper. That's... perfect.”
"Excellent!" Tony said. "We'll have a moving crew at your apartment whenever you're ready. Just give JARVIS the go-ahead."
Over the next few days, the apartment became a whirlwind of activity. Darcy and Jane, true to their word, decided to leave all their furniture behind. Their new suite at Avengers Tower was indeed fully furnished, sleek and modern, a stark contrast to their well-loved, slightly chaotic apartment. They packed only their personal belongings, books, clothes, and, most importantly, the growing collection of baby items for Little Jane.
Sam, ever the loyal friend, showed up with coffee and an offer to help. "Need an extra pair of hands, ladies?" he asked, surveying the stacks of boxes.
"You're a lifesaver, Sam," Jane said, handing him a roll of packing tape. "Just try not to break anything. We have some delicate scientific instruments in here."
As they sorted through boxes, Darcy found herself staring down the hallway. A silent challenge. She knew she could ask Sam for help, but something tugged at her. Taking a deep breath, Darcy pulled out her phone. Her finger hovered over Steve's contact, then she pressed call.
"Darcy?" Steve's voice was immediate, a hint of surprise and eagerness in his tone.
"Hey," she said, trying to keep her voice light, professional even. "Listen, Jane and I are packing up to move into the Tower. We've got most of it handled, but there are some... specific items that need careful handling. I don't really want strangers carelessly moving them." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Would you be able to help?” She didn't elaborate any further, letting him discover that part on his own. It was a test, a small step into this new, undefined territory.
A beat of silence, then Steve's voice, softer now, almost reverent. "Of course, Darcy. I'll be right over. Just tell me what time."
"Whenever works for you," she replied, a strange mix of relief and nervousness fluttering in her chest. "We're just… packing."
Less than an hour later, Steve arrived, ready to work. He greeted Darcy and Jane with a respectful nod, his gaze lingering on Darcy's baby bump for a moment before he tore his eyes away.
Darcy felt a blush creep up her neck. Not only from the way he was looking at her, but she had almost forgotten how irresistible Steve looked in jeans and a T-shirt.
"Okay, what needs moving?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
Darcy led him down the hallway to a small, sunlit room that glowed with a new coat of soft lavender paint and a whimsical mural stretching across one wall. Steve stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.
"Wow," he breathed, a raw emotion in his voice. "This is… this is beautiful, Darcy."
The mural depicted a starry night sky, with a gentle moon and tiny, smiling celestial bodies. In the foreground, nestled among soft clouds, were fantastical creatures – a friendly-looking dragon, a fluffy unicorn, and a wise-eyed owl – all looking up at a single, particularly bright star.
"The money you had sent for rent, the money I had initially resented, she admitted, walking over and gesturing to the assembled pieces. "This is what that money went to. Making Little Jane's space perfect.”
The crib, the changing table, comfortable rocking chair and the tiny bookshelf overflowing with infant board books – each piece held a burgeoning hope and a silent challenge. This was part of the "mutual ground" she was trying to build with Steve.
"Steve walked closer to the wall, his fingers tracing the outline of a painted cloud. His expression was a mix of awe and a profound, aching regret. He didn't say anything, but the unspoken words hung in the air: I should have been here.
Steve ran a hand over the smooth wood of the crib railing, a profound tenderness in his eyes. He didn't say anything, but the quiet reverence in his gaze spoke volumes.
As Darcy watched him, she felt a gentle flutter, then a distinct, insistent kick from within. Her hand automatically went to the spot, stroking her belly in a familiar, comforting gesture. The small movement, the palpable presence of their daughter, was a grounding force amidst the swirling emotions.
She looked up to find Steve watching her, his eyes fixed on her hand, then on her stomach. His gaze was intense, a raw mixture of longing and wonder. Suddenly self-conscious, Darcy stopped stroking her stomach, letting her hand fall away. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken feelings.
Then, wordlessly, Darcy reached out, her fingers brushing against Steve's hand. She took his hand, guiding it gently to the spot where Little Jane had just kicked. Steve's eyes widened as he felt the distinct, undeniable movement. A soft gasp escaped him, his thumb instinctively stroking the curve of her belly.
Darcy felt a familiar pang in her chest. This was it. This was the mutual ground. A tangible representation of their shared future, built on the unexpected foundation of an autocorrect mishap and a father's silent promise.
The mutual ground, fragile but firm, had just expanded to include their daughter. For now, it was enough.