Chapter Text
She cursed the sound of her phone ringing. Standing precariously, Darcy juggled the stack of boxes she held in her arms while digging ferociously in her pocket for the origin of Belinda Carlisle’s “Summer Rain”.
‘Oh my love, it's you and that I dream of
Oh my love, since that day
Somewhere in my heart I'm alwa-’
“You’re an asshole,” she answered the phone. She could feel the flush of embarrassment climbing up the back of her neck. It was a good thing none of the others were around to see her. Damn Clint and his Hawk-y eyes. She did not need any romantic reminders of soldiers. Nope. None at all.
“Aw. I’m hurt,” came Clint’s familiar nasal tone. “That’s a 90’s classic.”
“You’re a ninety’s classic,” Darcy shot back. “How’d you tamper with my phone?”
“I never give away my secrets.”
Darcy wrinkled her nose in exasperation. “I’m going to have to superglue the air duct closed in my apartment aren’t I? Again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
There was distinct background noise on Clint’s end. Darcy rolled her eyes and carefully shifted the boxes in her arms, they were getting heavy. “Look I know Tony’s getting squirly for his pie so tell him not to get his iron panties in a knot, Sunday dessert is on its way.”
There was an affronted squawk from the aforementioned. Clint chuckled. “So where are you now?”
Darcy tried to peer over the stack of cardboard to get her bearings. “Jeez I’m closer than I thought, I’m only—oof!!”
She was slammed into from the side. She watched her pie boxes skid and spill across the sidewalk. Her fury was almost secondary to the pain exploding from her hip as a heavy male body pinned her to the ground.
“Hey fucker! You’re gonna pay for those!” Her indignant cry echoed loudly in the street.
Before she could even lift her eyes to see who the clumsy asshole was, Darcy felt a sharp pinch in her neck. The look she finally shot the hulking tattooed figure leaning over her was one of clearing understanding but it was too late. Her hand brushed the pocket Mr. Shoky was in but she was unconscious before she could complete the action.
“Shh dóchka,” Ivan crooned as he lowered her unconscious form to the ground. “I’ll just talk to your friends; tell them you’re in good . . . hands.” His lips quirked up at his own joke. He easily pried Darcy’s phone from her limp fingers and lifted it to his ears. He was pleased to hear chaos on the other end of the line.
“Darce--?! Darcy?! What’s going on? Why won’t you answer me dammit?!”
“I’ll get a lead on her; she said she was close--!”
“Don’t worry Stark,” Ivan interrupted them, “I’ll take good care of girl.”
There was silence for a heartbeat and then the voice on the other end said tightly, “You fucking touch her and I’ll end you. Where is sh-” Ah, ok. Not Stark then. Maybe boyfriend.
The owner of the phone was vetoed off the call and another voice took his place.
“Whatever you want from us, it has nothing to do with Darcy,” Tony Stark said in full negotiation mode, “Tell me what you want and let her go.”
“Actually I come for her, Stark.” Ivan enjoyed the sound of air Tony sucked in as he recognized Ivan’s voice. “Remember I told you not to get too attached to things?” He let out a low chuckle. “Wait for my package.”
He cut off Tony’s protest by dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it under his boot. He didn’t need them using it to track her down before he could get away with her. Ivan bent over and scooped up the young woman’s limp body. It was time to disappear.
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“Son of a bitch!”
Tony Stark stared at Clint’s phone in disbelief before shouting orders at Jarvis. It was indicative of shock and pretty much everyone left in the common room picked up on it immediately. Steve, Natasha and Bruce were in varying stages of readiness. Clint had already disappeared.
“What is it Stark?” Steve pressed him as they strode to the roof. “Who was it?”
“Ivan Vanko.”
“Vanko?” Natasha said sharply, eyes narrowing. “I thought you killed him at the Expo?!”
“I did!” Tony passed a hand over his face. “Rhodey and I watched him incinerate.”
Steve strapped his shield to his arm. “Could it be a copycat?”
Tony was grim instead of his usual cockiness as he braced his arms and legs for the suit. “No. It was him.”
He finished giving Jarvis instructions to keep Pepper in the tower, with surveillance until further notice, when he flew over the area Darcy’s cell signal had last broadcasted. He could see Clint on the ground already, standing in a circumference of discarded pie boxes. Tony’s throat soured at the thought of that spunky girl in the hands of Vanko.
The archer looked up as Tony made to land but made a sharp gesture, keep looking. His eyes were unholy with rage.
“Jarvis?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I want all security footage in New York monitored for Ivan Vanko’s scan. Height, weight, tattoo’s, heart rate, everything.”
“Of course, sir.”
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They had nothing and they knew it.
The crew reconvened at the site of Darcy’s kidnapping and somberly summed up the situation.
“He didn’t take public transportation. No cab, no bus, no subway.” Natasha informed them. “There were no reports of stolen vehicles, so he didn’t take that route either.”
“No sign of them in the sewers,” Hawkeye said in a clipped voice.
“Hospitals are clear. None of my contacts have seen anything,” Bruce offered tiredly.
“I checked airspace,” Steve said, his frustration showing on his face, “No sign of him at any of the airports, no unlicensed aircraft, nothing.”
“Guys. We’ll find them.” Tony cut in. “Jarvis didn’t find any sign of big and ugly after he took Ms. Lewis but there were sightings of him prior to. He’s been in the area for a while apparently.”
“He’s still here then,” Clint hazarded a guess.
“Yeah, he loves to gloat.”
Natasha was looking towards the street. “He had to get her out of here fast. He had his own vehicle.” She looked at Tony. “Any camera’s on this street?”
“Yep. And they’ve all mysteriously been pointed to Vino’s Pizzeria as of two hours ago.”
“Fucker!” Clint exploded.
Tony was distracted at the sound of Peppers voice in his ear, “Tony?” She sounded shaken.
“Pep? What’s wrong are you okay?”
“I’m . . . fine. I just. There’s a package here for you.”
Tony went rigid. “Pepper, don’t go near it. Don’t let anyone touch it until I get there. In fact get out of there, get Happy to take you somewhere safe!!”
“T-tony? It’s okay, it’s not going to h-hurt anyone.”
“Pepper!”
“Tony!” She was trying to regain his attention but he was still focused on the thread of hysteria in her voice. “Jarvis checked it, he said it’s safe. There’s no gas in the balloons.”
Tony shook his head sharply. “Balloons?” he said dumbly.
“They’re pink!”
“I believe Ms. Potts is attempting to tell you the message the balloons contained,” Jarvis cut in.
“Tell me the message, Jarvis.” Tony clipped.
“Congratulations on the newest member of the Stark family. It’s a girl!”
“There’s a picture of Darcy,” Pepper sniffled. “And a lock of her hair.”
He happened to be looking at Bruce when the message sank in. It was the unmitigated horror in his eyes that prompted the scientist to offer, “I’ll have a look at it as soon as we get back Tony.”
“Then we have to get back now,” Tony said. “If he thinks Darcy’s my daughter she’s in real danger.”
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She was disoriented on awakening. Darcy couldn’t figure out why she was sleeping in a chair until she tried to brush the tangle of hair out of her face and couldn’t. Her arms were locked behind her back.
What the ever loving fuck did I wake up to?
She tried to look over her shoulder to see what held her in place but froze when movement caught her attention.
A very large man pushed himself off from the wall where he’d been leaning. Darcy’s eyes widened and her breath stuttered in her throat. He oozed threat. He wore a hoody over what looked like a tank top, very worn jeans, army boots and gold rimmed sunglasses. He had the build of a wrestler and as he slowly made his way over to her she couldn’t help comparing his approach to an animalistic prowl.
The hair stood up on the back of her neck.
“If this is about the pies, we can call it evensies?” Darcy offered, grateful that her voice didn’t quaver.
Her kidnapper chuckled darkly.
That made her shiver. She couldn’t help it.
“You have your father’s inappropriate sense of humor.” He stated, his voice rumbled heavy with a Russian accent.
“My . . . my father?” Darcy said in confusion. Then she frowned. “You definitely have the wrong person. I don’t have a father.”
He stopped within her personal space and leaned down. He gave her a smile. A slow spreading smirk really. His gold teeth matched his glasses and she fought back a shudder of horror.
“Let’s just say, I know your pedigree.”
“The fuck?” Darcy retorted. “Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Ivan Vanko.”
His lips quirked bitterly at the blankness in her eyes.
“I have nothing to give you,” Darcy said unequivocally. “I don’t even get paid to do what I do, man. I’m an intern. I make coffee. I go on pie runs.”
Her breath hitched uncomfortably as Vanko plucked the knit cap off her head.
“If you torture me all I’m going to tell you is how people take their coffee,” She lied, her voice strained as his blunt tipped fingers buried themselves into her chestnut hair. He tilted up her head and through the tears she was furiously trying to blink away she could see him studying her.
“You’re going to make this very enjoyable, dóchka.”
She so didn’t like the sound of that.