Chapter Text
Tony Stark either knows how to throw a really good party or how to fuck somebody's life up. Maybe both, maybe neither, but either way, when Darcy Lewis wakes up in one of his guest bedrooms, naked and alone, she immediately wants to blame him for it.
Darcy wraps the blankets tightly around herself as she looks around the room. There's her clothes, all over the floor. There's her cell phone, which is charging. And there's...five hundred dollars on the dresser next to her? What the hell? Did whoever she screwed last night think she was a prostitute?
Shaking her head, Darcy gets out of the blankets, locks the door of the guest room, and starts to throw on her clothes. She'd use the shower, but right now she can't stay here a second longer; what she did last night is kind of...haunting. Darcy just doesn't do one-night stands, for one. Whoever the person last night was must've been someone pretty cute for Darcy to even consider that. She closes her eyes and tries to remember who it was, but all she can conjure up is the memory of black hair and green eyes...
Darcy unlocks the door and walks out of the room, shaking her hair and sighing. Damn, her head hurts. She's pretty hungover, but then again, that's what always happens when Tony throws a party. Speaking of Tony, when Darcy enters the kitchen downstairs, she sees him lying down on the kitchen table nonchalantly, drinking from a vodka bottle.
"Hey, Lewis," he says cheerfully. "How's your head?"
"Hurts like hell," Darcy says, and she scrunches her nose at the bottle in his hand. "What's with the drink? Isn't it still pretty early in the morning?"
"I'm the same as you— hungover," Tony says, shrugging his shoulders, and Darcy can see the bags under his eyes. "If my head hurts this much, might as well go for it, am I right?"
"Yeah, right. Pepper leave last night?" Darcy asks knowingly.
Tony huffs at the thought of his on-again, off-again girlfriend. "She didn't leave," he objects. "Got out the door and took off in one of my cars, sure, but she didn't leave. She's...well, she's staying. I think." He takes a swig of the bottle.
"Let's hope she does, for the sake of your sanity," Darcy remarks dryly.
"Ha ha," Tony says just as dryly. "Whatcha still doing here, anyway?"
"Don't know. I drank too much last night, screwed some guy, and then I woke up in one of your rooms alone and freaked out," Darcy says bluntly. "By the way, there's five hundred dollars on the dresser of the room for you."
"Not that I'm against free money," Tony says, raising a brow, "but isn't that meant for you? I sure as hell didn't screw whoever you did, though I wish I had. Five hundred's pretty damn good for a drunken night."
"I don't want it. I'm not a whore who gets paid for that kind of stuff."
"But you could be. I mean, rhetorically speaking. You got a nice body for it. Not that I stare at your body— no, wait, of course I do. You've got a nice rack, you know that?" Tony says, pausing to take another long swig, and grimacing as it burns down his throat.
"Thanks, pedophile—"
"Only five years apart. It's legal," interjects Tony.
"—but I'm sure that's why Pepper left you," Darcy finishes. "So, no more staring."
"Pepper didn't leave," Tony counters again. "I just told you that. She's in denial— she loves me. Just like you love me, so you'd never let me stop staring at your chest because I— hey, where are you going?"
Darcy's already headed to the door. "To get to my place," she answers, turning to glance at him. "As much as I'm enjoying this conversation, Jane's probably going crazy without me."
"Oh, yeah, your hot roommate. Tell her hi for me," Tony says.
"Right. Want me to tell Pepper that, too?"
"Pepper's secure in our relationship. She didn't leave, okay?" Tony says, though the words are meant more for him than Darcy. "Just get that out of your head. It's not in mine. And anything that's not in my mind isn't worth two shits. Huh, I like that. Think that'd make a good slogan?"
"No, it wouldn't. Just remember, five hundred dollars upstairs, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. Sure you don't want it?" Tony pauses. "Hey, who even left you five hundred dollars? And is he into dudes? 'Cause I'm straight, but for five hundred dollars, I don't know..."
"Beats me, I was too drunk to remember," Darcy snorts.
Tony lowers his bottle— which he'd been raising to his lips— to ask, "Do you want to try to remember? I didn't invite too many people this time. I'd sure I could tell ya if you know any details."
"Thanks but no thanks. I don't need a guy right now."
"Not even one who gives out five hundred dollars out for no reason?" Tony asks, shaking his head. "Live your life, then, but I'm pretty sure you can't do much better than that."
"Thanks for your confidence, Tony." Darcy rolls her eyes. "Goodbye, okay?"
"Alright, but remember— hi to the roommate."
"Yes, the roommate with a boyfriend. Of course. Now I'm leaving, so don't fuck up with Pepper while I'm gone!" Darcy calls as she yanks open the front door.
"She didn't leave!" is Tony's parting call.
Darcy just gets into her parked car and starts up the engine. Yeah, right
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"Darcy! You're here!" exclaims Jane Foster as she yanks open the door of their apartment eagerly, two seconds before Darcy's hand even goes up to knock on the door.
"Um, hey. Since when are you watching the door like a creeper?" Darcy asks.
Jane ignores her remark. "I was worried! Where have you been?"
"Tony's, asleep. Remind me to never go to one of his parties ever again." Darcy pushes past Jane to get inside the apartment. "Thanks for leaving without me, by the way."
"I tried to find you," Jane counters. "Thor helped, but no one had seen you."
"Ah, Thor. That explains everything," Darcy says as she peers around the living room suspiciously, removing her coat and dropping it on the couch. "He's not still here, is he?"
Jane blushes a deep red. "Um, no, he left an hour ago."
"Figures." Darcy drops on the couch beside her coat, sighing. "Got any food?"
"Thor made breakfast," Jane offers. "There's leftover waffles and eggs."
"Waffles and eggs? Jane, you better not ever leave that boy," Darcy says, getting up and eagerly entering the kitchen. "I didn't even know we had eggs."
"We didn't. He went out to get some," Jane says, following her.
"He did? Yup, it's decided, you cannot leave him. Ever." Darcy fixes herself a plate and sticks it into the microwave. "Next time make sure to have him over around dinnertime; maybe he'll whip us up something."
"Darcy, I'm not dating him because he cooks," Jane says, rolling her eyes.
"But it's a nice perk," Darcy says. "Seriously, you have all the luck in guys. You've got a sweet, attractive boyfriend who cooks since you can't and stays the night with you."
"Yeah, I guess," Jane says, looking at Darcy suspiciously (because Darcy's never been jealous of Jane's relationship before). "Darcy, did something happen at Tony's that I should know about?"
"No, nothing happened," Darcy says, shrugging as she takes her plate out of the microwave. "It's just the usual story— I go to Tony's party, I get super drunk, and then I do something I regret. Last time it was sing Miley Cyrus at the top of my lungs and jump into Tony's pool, this time it was have an one night stand with someone I can't even remember."
"Wait, what?"
Darcy winces. "Geez, Jane, you have some seriously loud pipes. Ever tried opera?"
"Darcy. You can't be serious. You...you don't have one night stands."
"I know, right?" Darcy takes a seat, digging into her food. "Mmm, I'm starved."
"Darcy," Jane repeats, voice oddly desperate. "You're...serious?"
"Yeah I'm serious. Like, totally serious." Darcy sticks a piece of waffle in her mouth and adds, "Plus, the guy left me five hundred bucks afterwards. Who does that? He must've not been the one night stand type either."
"Five hundred?" Jane echoes. "Did you take it?"
"Nah, I've got some dignity," Darcy says. "Only a little bit, but it's there."
Jane sits down across from Darcy, looking utterly bewildered. "Wow, you must have been really drunk," she notes, more to herself than to Darcy. "How do you feel?"
"Like shit, but I've felt worse. I'll live, I mean."
Jane is quiet a second or two before asking, "So, um, do you know who the guy was?"
"No clue. Why?" Darcy asks, sticking more waffle in her mouth.
"Just curious." Jane starts to tap the wooden table with her slender fingers.
"You're doing the thing," Darcy calls her out.
"Huh?"
"Your nervous finger-tapping-thing. You're doing it."
Jane tucks her hand into her lap. "Well, it's just...you haven't had a boyfriend in months," she says, and her voice is quiet when she continues, "So you haven't been on birth control in months. Or have carried any form of protection with you, either."
Darcy barks out a laugh. "Jane, you can't seriously be suggesting..."
"This stuff happens with drunken hook-ups, Darcy," Jane says patiently.
"Well not with me. I'd never get pregnant. I'm twenty-three," Darcy says. "I'm too young. Hell, I'd be thirty-three and I'd be too young. I'm just not going to get pregnant because of one night."
Jane bites her lip. "Well, you could take a test," she suggests. "In a few weeks, of course, to make sure enough time has passed. Please just do that for me, okay?"
"Fine. If it'll make you sleep better at night, then I will," Darcy says, continuing to eat her breakfast. "But I assure you," she adds through a mouthful of eggs, "I am not pregnant."
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Holy shit.
Turns out, after taking a pregnancy test three weeks after she told Jane she would, Darcy finds out that she is pregnant. Or at least the three tests with matching pink plus signs say so. Maybe they're wrong, and she should send Jane back to the store to get another one...or another fifty...
Groaning, Darcy throws the pee stick away and washes her hands before quickly exiting the bathroom and going into her room (making sure to lock the door). She throws herself on the bed and continues to groan into the sheets, knowing she is extremely fucked.
A knock sounds. "Darcy? Darcy, open the door," comes Jane's soft voice.
Darcy just keeps her face buried in sheets, ignoring Jane's niceness. "Jaaaane," she wails through a mouthful of cotton, "let me wallow in self-pity! My whole life is ruineeeeed!"
Jane softens when she realizes what Darcy is implying. "Darcy, I know you're...upset," she offers awkwardly, leaning against the door. "But, um, maybe this isn't as bad as you're making it out to be, and— hold on, let me guess, you have your what-the-fucking-hell face on."
"You guessed right," says Darcy, moving her face from the sheets slightly.
Jane sighs. "Look, just open the door so we can talk about this."
"Nooooo. I don't wanna," Darcy says childishly, pulling herself into a sitting position on her bed, picking up a pillow and hugging it to her chest defensively as she stares down the locked door.
Jane, on her side of the door, just rubs her face with her hands in exasperation, knowing that Darcy is too stubborn for her own good. "Well, if you're not going to open the door, then at least call for pizza; my phone's dead," she calls through the door.
"...Pizza?"
"And I'm paying," Jane adds.
There is a reluctant shuffle from Darcy's part, and a minute later, she reluctantly cracks open her door to peer out at Jane suspiciously. "What about wings?" she asks.
Jane rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine."
"Yes!" Darcy opens her door fully, letting Jane enter.
Jane rolls her eyes again in a works-every-time gesture as she perches on Darcy's bed, crossing her legs. Darcy mirrors the gesture, but she keeps the pillow locked in her arms as though it's a lifesaver.
"We are still talking about this, though," Jane warns.
Darcy sighs and begrudgingly says, "Fine, whatever. I might be pregnant. Might. I need to see at least another fifty of those tests before I start believing anything."
Jane smiles softly at her friend's antics. "Only you," she remarks fondly, but she quickly goes professional. "But, let's say this is real and you are pregnant—"
"And you're supposed to be the optimist?"
"Darcy. Come on, focus," pleads Jane.
"I'm focusing, but I still need pizza to function," Darcy replies.
Jane rolls her eyes again. "Darcy. Okay, say you're pregnant—"
"I'm pregnant."
"Darcy!" exclaims Jane, exasperated.
Darcy laughs, rolling over on the bed and clutching the pillow tighter. "Sorry, but you walked into that one," she says unabashedly. "But, continue. Say I'm pregnant and-?"
"And I need to know what we're going to do about this," answers Jane.
"Hold up, unless you're expecting this to be a lesbian love story where two friends raise a baby and fall in love along the way, I think I heard you wrong. We?" repeats Darcy incredulously.
"Yes, we. I'm your best friend, and I'm going to be here for you," says Jane firmly. "Now first order or business: are you going to carry out this pregnancy?"
Darcy chews the inside of her cheek as she thinks. "Er, I'm not into the whole abortion thing," she admits, "but it could be a possibility. I mean, this is a kid we're talking about! I don't want one of those."
"Fair enough. Second order of business: we need to find out who the father is."
"How?" Darcy asks.
"I...don't know. You don't have any first or last name?" Jane asks desperately.
"Yes, of course, along with the guy's social security number," deadpans Darcy. "I was drunk as hell, remember? Even if we were on a first-name basis, I couldn't tell you."
Jane sighs in exasperation. "Well, do you remember what he looks like?"
"No," Darcy huffs. "I remember green eyes and dark hair, but that's basically it."
The look Jane gives Darcy afterwards is one of disbelief. "No," she trills.
"What?" Darcy asks, seeing Jane's panicked eyes.
Jane gets off the bed and begins to pace the room. "Unlike you, I wasn't drunk at Tony's party," she explains. "And you know, he only had a few select people over. There was only one guy with dark hair and green eyes." This she says, of course, in disbelief.
"You're freaking me out, Jane. This sounds like the plot of a murder mystery," Darcy says, hugging the pillow closer to her chest. "Do you know who he is or not?"
Jane turns and gives Darcy another disbelieving look. "Loki."
"Gesundheit."
"No, Loki. That's his name!" Jane exclaims. "He's Thor's brother."
Darcy quirks an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend's brother? You've never mentioned him."
"I only met him at Tony's party. I didn't think..." Jane sighs, trailing off. "Fuck, Darcy. If he's the father, then maybe we shouldn't even bother with trying to talk to him. He's...he's..."
"...a murderer?"
"An asshole," Jane corrects.
Darcy raises her eyebrows. "Wow, talking bad about someone and using a bad word for it," she says. "This is a new side of you, Jane; I'm beginning to think you really hate this guy."
Jane blushes. "I don't hate him," she negates halfheartedly. "It's just...he's rude. And kind of arrogant. He thought I was some kind of gold digger after Thor's money, and then rudely asked Thor—right in front of my face— if I was his...you know—"
"Whore?"
Jane nods wordlessly. "I can find him on Facebook and show you his picture," she offers. "Then we can make sure he's the guy we're talking about." When Darcy agrees, Jane takes out her phone, enters all necessary inputs, and after a minute or two presents the screen.
"Huh, he looks friendly," Darcy says dryly when she sees the picture of the pale-skinned man who scowls at the camera. "But at least he's pretty good-looking. Go me."
Jane turns off her phone. "I can't believe he's the father," she says, sighing (and ignoring Darcy's last thought). "I mean, he is the father, right? You hadn't been with another guy in months."
"You make me sound like no fun."
"I'm being realistic," Jane says, sitting back on the bed. "So, now what?"
Darcy shrugs. "I dunno. I'll have to talk to this guy about this, I guess, because he has a right to know and whatever...or at least I know that's what you're going to tell me. Do you have a phone number you can give me?"
"Darcy, you are not going to do this over the phone," says Jane.
"Ugh, double standards," Darcy complains. "What should I do, then?"
"Maybe go see him? Meet someplace?" Jane suggests.
"Yeah, sure, sounds good...except for the fact that I don't know who he is," Darcy says loudly. "I have no way to contact him. He won't even know who I am."
"Tell you what: I'll text Thor," Jane says. "I can have him bring Loki somewhere, and you and I can show up so you two can talk. Where do you feel like doing this?"
"A bar," Darcy says, perking up.
"No bars. You're pregnant," Jane reminds her.
"Dammit, and just when I'd almost forgotten," says Darcy, making a sour face.
"I'll just have them meet us here," Jane suggests.
Darcy shoots her a look. "Sure, that'll make the guy want to come," she says.
"Oh, right...that'd ruin the whole 'showing up' thing," says Jane, and she mulls it over. "Dinner's out of the question, because we can't afford to eat out, and Thor says that Loki refuses to go anywhere that doesn't cost a fortune. Movies?"
"He likes movies?"
"Probably not." Jane sighs. "Okay...park?" she offers pathetically.
Darcy shrugs. "What the hell— the park it is."
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A day later, Darcy's prepared to go to the park with Jane— she's wearing lady-ish clothes and everything— but first, she makes Jane pull up to Tony Stark's house.
Pepper answers the door. "Darcy. Hi," says the blond politely. "I didn't know you were coming over; I would've dressed nicer if I'd known we'd have company." This she says with a disapproving look to her jeans and modest blouse, because she's like that. "Come on in. Is Jane with you?"
"Yes, but, she's not coming out of the car; this'll be quick. Like, I probably only need two minutes of your time, tops. Where's Tony?" Darcy asks, stepping inside.
"Here," answers Tony comfortably from his seat on his living room couch, looking up from the tablet in his hands to focus on the brunette. "Wasn't expecting you, Darce— you here to see Pepper?"
"No, to see you," Darcy says, and she shifts uncomfortably. "You see...remember when you threw that party a while back? And...that one thing happened?"
"He told me, Darcy," Pepper tells her quietly as she sits down on the couch.
"Oh, thank God," Darcy breathes. "Well, either way, you know how the dude just left that money, and I left it here because I didn't want it? I kind of need that money now."
"I knew you'd come for it sooner or later," Tony says, chuckling. "Seriously, it's money. Free money." He reaches into his back pocket, taking out his wallet. "What's it for?"
"Something," says Darcy evasively.
Tony raises his eyebrows. "Oh, the old something status. Pretty big?"
"None of your business," Darcy says. "Just dish the cash, dude."
"This feels strangely like a drug deal," Tony remarks as he slowly begins to open his wallet, riffling through the bills in a painstakingly slow manner. "Only I'm not sure I'm getting anything in return here..."
"Hey, any drugs I have are mine, not yours," Darcy says sarcastically.
Pepper cuts in, "Oh, stop teasing, Tony— give her the money."
"Pepper, you're supposed to be on my side here," Tony says, faking a pout as he takes out five dollar bills and holds them out to Darcy. "I'm hurt. Truly."
"I'm sure you'll get over it," Pepper says, rolling her eyes to Darcy, who grins.
"Thanks, guys, you're saving my ass here," declares Darcy as she pockets the money. "Well, Jane's waiting for me in the car and is probably changing my radio station, so, see you guys later?"
"See ya, Lewis," Tony says, lazily saluting her.
Pepper walks her to the door, bids her own goodbye, and then Darcy is out and back into the car with Jane. Jane is tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, looking to Darcy as soon as she enters.
"Did you get it?" she questions.
"Yup. Pfft, this really does feel like some drug deal," Darcy snickers.
Jane is smart enough not to ask what she's talking about. "Great. Let's go."
But even with everything going to plan, for the rest of the drive to the park, every time the car slows to stop at a red light all Darcy hears is tap, tap, tapping from nervous, slender fingers on the steering wheel.
"What are you nervous for?" Darcy asks finally.
"Me?" Jane says. Tap. "I'm not nervous." Tap, tap, tap.
"Uh-huh." Darcy eyes her roommate and arguable best friend wearily. "I can handle your tapping, but just remember that that you vomit when you're nervous, too."
"I do not— hey, we're here," Jane says, relieved as she pulls into a parking spot.
"Sure, change the subject," mutters Darcy as she unbuckles her seatbelt, unlocking the car doors and hopping out. "Thor already here?" she asks Jane, who is just exiting the car.
"Not yet," she answers. "Let's go sit and wait."
"Can do," Darcy says. Jane's about to sit down on a park bench, but Darcy tugs her in the direction of the swings, which are child-less and tons more fun than a concrete bench.
They sit there, Jane stiffly and Darcy swinging her legs, in utter silence. Jane checks her phone periodically, but Darcy just focuses on their surroundings. The crisp autumn air is nice, but there's only a few kids out, playing. Darcy finds herself watching them, wondering what her kid would be like, and if he or she would one day run and play through this very same park...
She shivers involuntarily. Out of cold, of course.
"Look, he's here," Jane blurts, and Darcy looks up to see Thor walking towards them, dressed in a huge red sweatshirt, sporting his usual blond stubble to match his tousled blond hair, and a huge smile across his face (directed at Jane, of course).
Jane gets off the swing and into her boyfriend's arms eagerly. As they share a kiss, Darcy quickly looks away...and finds herself staring into two green, somewhat icy eyes. Thor's brother, the infamous Loki, is standing before her.
Darcy tries to imagine why she'd have sex with him. He's definitely attractive; though paler and thinner than Thor, he's got a smooth, sly charisma to him that Darcy can't deny. Plus, while Thor rocks the adorably casual look, Loki has a neater, smoother way of dressing, decked out in a thin black coat and with a green scarf fixed perfectly around his neck. But either way, what's done is done (even if the proof is living in Darcy's stomach).
"Jane, Darcy, what a pleasure to see you both," Thor says warmly.
"Hey, big guy," Darcy says, waving two fingers at him.
Jane clears her throat. "Um, hi, Loki," she offers.
Loki looks at her, grunting a reply. "Hello...Jane."
Thor looks between the two of them, his smile a lot more forced. "Brother," he starts tentatively, "I know I promised you that I would bring you to this favorite place of mine so we could spend time together—"
"But since your girlfriend is here, that isn't going to happen, is it," states Loki, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know, I wouldn't have come; I was only taking pity on you."
"Of course." Thor's smile becomes more and more fake. "Well, the thing is, Loki..."
Darcy decides to cut Thor some slack and let his awkward transition end. "I asked him to make you come here," she pipes up, which makes Loki turn to glare at her, those green eyes no longer icy, but befuddled. "I'm Darcy, and I'm pretty sure that you're my baby daddy."
Loki's eyes widen in alarm. "I beg your pardon?" he sputters.
Jane quickly moves Thor away, stammering an excuse Darcy and Loki disregard.
"Sorry, that's normal for me. Anyway, let's start simple: do you remember me?" asks Darcy.
Loki's eyes stay wide in alarm, but he manages out, "I...only remember your face. Before leaving Stark's home, I awoke beside you, with a terrible headache and no idea as to what has transpired the night before."
"Same, only I woke up alone," Darcy says. "And with five hundred dollars beside me. Speaking of..." She digs into her pockets and holds out the cash. "Here."
Loki eyes the bills. "I left that behind," he objects.
"Yeah, well, I'm not a whore for you to be paying," Darcy says, shoving the money into his chest. "So just take the goddamn money, okay? I'm not going to keep it just because I slept with you."
Loki looks as though he wants to argue, but finally, he takes the money.
"Okay, now that that's out of the way, what I said still stands," Darcy says. "I'm pretty sure you're my baby daddy. Thing is, I hadn't been with a guy in ages. I wake up next to you, naked, and then boom! Three weeks later, I'm pregnant. So—"
Darcy stops, however, when Loki turns and abruptly walks away before she's even done talking. As Darcy watches, he stalks to the parking lot, enters Thor's car, and is out of the parking lot in a matter of seconds, the tires of the car squealing as he gets away.
Thor gets angry, of course, when he notices, and goes into a fit, mumbling words in some foreign language and calling Loki every two seconds. Jane, after reassuring Thor some, then goes over by Darcy and wordlessly takes her arm with hers, glancing at the younger women apologetically every few seconds.
"So," Darcy says finally, "that went...well."