Chapter Text
Darcy wasn’t entirely sure why she’d swapped with Steve. They didn’t appear to be in immediate danger, the only problem was the stalled Jeep with the mechanic half under the hood.
“Miss, if you’d like some help, I did work in a mechanic’s shop,” Bucky said and out of the hood popped an irate, grease smudged, VERY FAMILIAR face.
“Bucky, shut up and let Liz work, she’s good with cars,” Darcy told him. He looked at her odd.
“And how do you know my name, good sir?”
“I read these crazy things called newspapers. Also, I used to work in show biz, so no amount of engine schmutz on your face will make me not see the bone structure underneath. It’s car oil, not contour make-up, and this is a war zone, not a stage.”
“And, oh Captain of the Americas, what do you intend to do about it?”
“Prevent my Sarge from accidentally swallowing his own foot, and politely pass you wrenches.”
“I need a ¾ wrench, but the kit is missing it. I was using a 4/5 but it keeps slipping.”
"Are you trying to use metric wrenches? I ask, because that car was made in Detroit, where they use Standard. Which is a fucking stupid system." Darcy grinned when the only scandalized gasp came from Monty. “What do you need wrenched?”
“That bolt, tighter.” Darcy reached in and twisted. Liz turned the key when Darcy was clear, but nothing happened.
“I think everything in here is right,” Darcy said, looking at the engine.
“It is, I don’t know what’s got into the beast. Just died, I suppose.”
She thought a bit. “Unless the problem is in the ignition, in which case, I’ll help you hot-wire it and that should solve it.”
“Hot… wire?”
“Uh,” the other Howlies looked at her. “American slang. Start the car by by-passing the key ignitor and running straight to the wires that trigger the engine. Method used by car thieves, stolen stuff is “hot” and you do it with wires, so hot-wiring.”
“Aren’t some sort of bloody colonial jingo-boy, perfect American soldier?”
“Ma’am, we in America are not in the business of making perfect people, soldier or otherwise. But we do make some good ones. Please see my colleague in the bowler hat for reference. By no means a perfect soldier, but indeed a very good man. Do recall, we started our country off on the note of vandalism, theft, riots, looting and very angry people. I think your family was a little irritated about that.”
“And that’s your legacy.”
“The legacy of my home, yes. But Steve Rogers, artist and friend is as different from Captain America as Lizzie Windsor, mechanic and driver is from the Crown Princess of England. Steve’s a dumb kid from Brooklyn, who never knew how to run away to save his skin if someone was being a bully, and he got his ass handed to him many a time. Cap is the Sentinel of Liberty,” Darcy did the Wonder Woman pose and made her voice sound like a newsreel announcer. Liz, the future Queen, laughed. “But who is Lizzie?”
“A girl who’s a little bit lost. I can’t find the problem in the engine.”
“So we try hot-wiring it. I’ll walk you through it, you have smaller hands, so just slide under the wheel….” Darcy walked the future monarch through hot-wiring a car while Steve watched beside her in her mind. “Now touch the leads… yup, there you have it. Buck, what’s our six looking like?”
“Incoming unknowns, far out, but gaining.”
“Everybody in the car, Lizzie, if you would be so kind as to floor it, I hate unexpected guests. You would not believe how hard blood stains are to get out of carbon polymer mesh. Someday I’m going to ask for a stain-guard coating thing.”
Darcy would think that was the worst car ride of her life. Until she met Dr. Jane Foster.