Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters, nor is any of my written work produced for profit or monetary gain.
Summary: What it says on the tin. This story mainly chronicles the life and times of a certain young Darcy Lewis, newest SHIELD Agent on the block. It's mainly a gen fic that focuses on various characters and their relationships in the background. It's written in a blog format, so if that's not your thing, you probably want to stop reading from now. The fic takes place roughly 8 months after the first Avengers movie.
The main characters I've focused on include: Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Jimmy Woo, Maria Hill, Bernie Rosenthal and Sharon Carter. Fans of the comics will probably be more familiar with these characters, but I've tried to introduce them as well as I can to the newbies and movie fans. I only posted this in the Thor category because there is not Darcy tag in the Avengers one.
AN: Seeing as this is the first fanfic I've written in about four years, criticism and reviews would be more than welcome!
Day One of Blog.
My name is Darcy Lewis. I'm 22 years old. And I'm a SHIELD agent.
Well, that's being kinda generous with the truth. A trait I'm told by countless cynics in the past that should prove useful in a career in politics, should I choose do go down that path in the future. Right now, however, said path seems a long way away from the Helicarrier, currently over... well, I forget the exact alititude, but it's pretty damn high above ground and totally invisible to the naked eye.
I guess I'm reluctant to call myself a SHIELD agent because, despite the shiny badge that's stapled to my sweater, all I really do is run errands for Jane and help out with the paperwork. I don't even have to wear a proper uniform. Which I'm kinda grateful for, because all that blue Lyrca doesn't seem as though it would be too flattering to a girl of my proportions. And curves. Unlike Maria Hill, who would probably be the top candidate for Cover Girl of SHIELD Monthly. If such a publication existed, that is.
Jane and I are mostly responsible for monitoring and supervising the science-y division that's which has been extra busy every since that Thor and Loki incident that occurred a year ago. Which is to say, Jane drinks coffee, yells out instructions to the minions that surround us and looks stressed out 24/7- and I supply her with said coffee. I also happen to be of the opinion that Jane does not nearly spend enough time with my special friends, Sir Smirnoff and Mr. Jack Daniels, so during particular stressful periods I try to introduce them via caffeine. Works like a charm every time. It's especially funny when Jane is found drooling on her desk the morning after, completely oblivious to the world around her. Jane doesn't happen to think so, though. Oops. I guess I just can't help myself sometimes.
Most of what we do is continue on from leftover work that Professor Selvig left behind after he went on what I heard was to be a 'very, very, very long vacation'. Unless you've been living under a rock, you've probably heard of the alien invasion that kinda almost destroyed all of New York, not to mention the 80 or so body count over in Germany. Yup. Pretty grim. It's even scarier knowing how close Jane and I came to that sort of danger when Loki first attacked us in New Mexico. We were incredibly lucky to have SHIELD watching over us when Agent Coulson transferred us six states away whilst all the chaos was going on in New York. Jane feels weirdly guilty about it, saying that she should have been around to help out, but the mental image of that freaky looking robot lurching around and blowing up half of Albuquerque tends to make me disagree. What can I say – hero-ing and all that is grand, but I'm more of a pragmatist at heart. (I still refuse to apologise for tasering Thor that one time). If you ask me, I think part of her is just miffed that she missed out on seeing Thor again. I've had a few long distance relationships myself, so I totally sympathise.
But all that doesn't really matter in the long run, because after Selvig left Jane got a call asking her to replace him by coming to work for SHIELD. I still don't know how I managed to persuade her to let me come along with her as her assistant. I think it was a combination of desperate flattery, puppy dog eyes and the ever so reliable 'wear them down' process that eventually worked. Hey, that's how my ex-boyfriend got me to go out with him in the end. Although that should tell you why he is now my ex. Hmm.
Truth is, I have actually only one year left of college. And that terrifies the hell out of me. Darcy Lewis is not meant to be an adult. This has been verified by family, friends, acquaintances, past co-workers and pretty much everyone who happens to meet me. My roommate back in my apartment watches Doctor Who religiously, and although I've never really warmed up to the show (I don't understand their accents) the idea of just up and leaving everything and flying around space in a blue box, just seeing the world over, really appeals to me. The Helicarrier is the closest thing that exists to a real life spaceship, so when the chance came, you can bet your ass I took it. Like my professor at college says: Carpe Diem. Seize the day and all that.
The department that Jane and I belong to is the Sentient World Observation and Response Department, otherwise known as S.W.O.R.D. (Yeah, they seriously need to work on their acronyms). It's a counterterrorism unit that deals with extraterrestrial threats, and was set up after Thor's hammer was discovered in New Mexico. I hope that nobody here ever founds out that I still don't know how to pronounce the name of that damn thing. Anyway, it's a sweet deal; good salary, easy hours, weekends off and all that jazz. That is, it would be a sweet deal if Jane ever paid attention to how easy those hours are. Which is barely ever. My parents think I'm away doing voluntary work in Naipul, seeing as my internship with Jane is technically supposed to be over by now. College starts up again in two months, but every time I think of it, my stomach kind of clenches up. I don't even know if I want to go back, to be honest. I mean, Einstein was a drop-out, right? So how big of a deal could college be, really? Especially in this job economy. When I mentioned this to Jane she looked as though she wanted to go and quietly breathe into a paper bag, so I never brought it up in front of her again. This is why I think Lena Dunham is the only person that understands me.
The people here are... interesting. We actually kind of never see Nick Fury himself. Apparently this Special Agent called Abigail Brand is the one who's really in charge of our department, although she's almost always MIA herself. From all the photos I've seen, she looks like the sixth Spice Girl that failed the audition. Apparently she's a huge deal in SHIELD, however – an ex-protegee of Fury, rumoured to be his third-in-command right after Maria Hill. And she's only 28 years old! God, I feel like such a loser sometimes.
Our other colleagues (I'm just really revelling in the fact that I get to use the word 'colleagues' right now) include Agent Jimmy Woo, an astro-chemist with like three PHD's and a mind like a steel trap. Then there's also Agent Sam Wilson, who specialises in nanotechnology but is also a part-time field agent who does special favours for Nick Fury on occasion. There's even been talk of him becoming the newest member of the Avenger Initiative. Sam's 26. Geez.
We've even had Tony Stark drop in on us from time to time to 'oversee the equipment'. I think he really just likes the attention. He's somewhat of a god to all the science nerds over here. Still, if you had told me a year ago that I'd be working for Tony freaking Stark I'd have called you nuts. So all this is really awesome. Almost wish I could send a postcard home or something.
I'm all worn out for the day, so I think I'll stop here. Besides, I think I can see Jane approaching a nervous breakdown from where I sit and type. She's under the impression I'm updating the latest paperwork on Chitauri blood types or something. Oops. Time to break out the Grey Goose. And, by the way, I think it really says something about the human race that even when working for a top secret and super strict spy organisation, people will still find a way to smuggle alcohol into the workplace.
Yours,
AGENT Lewis.
