Ok, so yes this is linked to the 'More-Than-She-Seems' series. Namely, this is the recently introduced Danya. I had someone comment they were concerned that Danya would become a Mary sue, something I definitely do not want to happen. Thus, I tried to give an impression who she is here. This is a small sample of who she is, so a lot is stated without being shown. Still, let me know if I've screwed up here. She isn't perfect, not by a long shot, and I tried to get across how different she is. If those differences are good or bad is up to you guys.

-Illusinia

"Right this way, Mr. Rogers," commanded Coulson as he led the way through a series of ramps far below ground in one of S.H.I.E.L.D's offshoot locations. These were the top-secret labs, the engineering sectors working on projects so secret that no one except those who absolutely needed to know about the area was aware any of it existed. "And remember this path, you will have to walk it yourself most days. You will be granted limited access to this area, for medical purposes only."

Steve nodded slowly, taking in the large cement box filled with numerous mesh-metal walkways and platforms. Heavy doors resembling hatch doors on a navel ship lined the cement walls, leading into various labs and off-shoot areas for the staff posted down here. If it weren't for the very open nature of the space they were in now, the whole place would be incredibly claustrophobic. The only natural light came from a giant window so far above the glass itself looked no bigger than Coulson's physical head, and even that light was diluted. "Where are we?"

"Beneath Gravesend Bay on the fringes of the city," explained Coulson.

Now Steve was really confused. "But we entered at Coney Island."

Coulson just smiled. "Lots of tunnels."

"What am I doing down here," continued Steve, adamant to know why he was there. Coulson hadn't bothered to explain where they were going or why, a fact which was beginning to annoy Steve. He'd always taken orders, sure, but he wasn't above questioning them.

"We're concerned about the state of your health," explained Coulson. "The drug you were given was experimental, and we want to make sure it isn't wearing off."

Steve snorted slightly. "I think I'd know if that was happening..."

Coulson shot him a glance. "It's merely a precaution. A little blood once a month won't cause you any harm."

Stopping in front of one of the big metal doors with the initials 'D. L.' printed on the door, Coulson knocked once and waited for a response. The disengaging of a lock permitted him to open the door and usher Steve inside.

Much like the exterior, the room inside was metal flooring with cement walls. The difference here was that the cement walls were stained in different colors and swirling patterns as if someone had gotten bored and decided to paint it. Chrome tables covered in chemistry equipment, microscopes, and a cornucopia of other devices were littered around the room. Book shelves jammed with various texts were set up along one wall with a computer and bank of monitors against another. What stood out, however, was a rather comfortable looking Victorian armchair, complete with converted gas-lamp set smack dab in front of a faux fireplace in the middle of the back wall. This included an antique rug beneath the chair.

Apparently, he was staring because a woman's voice pulled him out of it. "I was going for the 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' look. It seemed appropriate, though Coulson scoffed at it."

Steve spun rather abruptly to face a woman with short, dark hair and smirking blue-yellow eyes who couldn't have been more than 23. Amusement danced in her orbs and she looked almost giddy about something. It made him a little nervous. A white lab coat was thrown over dark jeans and what looked like a tank-top that read 'Mischief is my Best Friend'.

"I still say its ridiculous," muttered Coulson. "This is a science lab, not a play set."

The woman shrugged, smirk still in place. "Fury thought it was amusing."

While Coulson continued to grumble, the woman who Steve assumed was 'D.L.' began to walk around him. "So, you're Steve Rogers, huh?"

"Yes," his voice squeaked a little, causing him to clear his throat. "Yes, I'm Steve Rogers."

"Killer," muttered the girl before offering her hand. "I'm Danya Lyon, one of the biochemists here."

Steve shook her hand uneasily. The look of mischief in her eye hadn't gone away yet. "Its a pleasure."

"Fury wants him to hav-" started Coulson but Danya cut him off with an eye-roll.

"I know what Fury wants to happen Cowl," growled Danya, annoyed and clearly a little pissed. "He came down here and gave me the orders personally. He also gave me the right to kick your ass out of my lab as soon as Rogers was here. So, get out."

Coulson scoffed slightly but stepped outside none the less and closed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Danya visibly relaxed. "Fucking SOB. If I didn't think Fury'd kick my ass for it, I'd spike Coulson's coffee again."

Both of Steve's eyebrows shot up. "You spiked Coulson's coffee once?"

"Yep," grinned Danya. "He was walking around the labs drunk off his ass for almost three hours. Kept trying to drink random shit and knocking stuff over. I think he even hit on one of the male scientists who looked pretty androgynous. It was fucking great." Steve cringed, causing Danya to raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"A lady should not curse," murmured Steve. "It isn't polite."

Danya laughed softly. "You're probably be the first person to call me a lady in about eight years. I'll try to scale back on the cussing if it bothers you though."

"Yes please," muttered Steve, a bit embarrassed by the whole exchange.

Her smirk softened and she motioned for him to take a seat on one of the stools at the table. "So, Steve, how are you liking the 21st century? Become a digital boy yet?"

"A what?" asked Steve. Apparently she'd lost him again.

Sighing, Danya reached over to her computer and clicked a few buttons before music began to play through the speaks. The man was singing about being a 21st century digital boy. Realization hit Steve. "Its a song."

Danya nodded. "Yep. Apparently no one bothered to introduce you to modern music. Not that I can say much. Being locked down here kinda kills ones access to all elements of popular culture."

"You're locked in?" Steve felt a little disturbed by that knowledge. It was one thing for them to merely work down here, it was another if they could not leave.

"Not being literal," replied Danya with a smirk. "I just don't get out much. At least I don't have to try to cook down here though. Well, any more."

Both of Steve's eyebrows rose high. "Any more?"

"Apparently being female and a chemist somehow equals the ability to cook," explained Danya. "So, the other scientists, largely male mind you, decided to have me cook dinner one night. We hand to ventilate the entire compound and there was enough smoke released that the police though Cony Island was on fire."

"You can't cook," stated Steve in shock. He wasn't so chauvinistic that he believe it was a woman's job to cook, but he had to admit that he hadn't met a woman who was so proud of the fact she couldn't cook.

Danya grinned. "The only reason I don't burn my tea every morning is that I have an electric kettle that turns off automatically."

Steve nodded slowly. "Is that why no one has called you a lady in so long?"

"Hardly," snorted Danya. "I've got the temper of a bull, refuse to wear anything uncomfortable which includes three quarters of woman's clothing, and I don't have much in the way of feminine manners. Plus I love horror movies and authors, think Suicidal Bunnies is the funniest thing ever produced, and curse like a sailor on a good day."

Calmly, she wrote some information down on a chart and motioned for Steve's arm. She tied a piece of plastic just above his elbow and removed a sterile needle from a near-by tray. Double checking the chart, she cleaned the space just over the vein in his arm and drew out the blood.

"Alright, you're done with that part but if you want to stick around for the results you're welcome to," explained Danya as she stood and moved to some machine with the sample.

Steve couldn't see what she was doing, but for as simple as the whole thing was and for as far as he had to walk to do this, sticking around for the results didn't seem like a bad idea. "So what are the Suicidal Bunnies?"

Danya chuckled slightly. "Exactly what it sounds like. Bunnies committing suicide in the most ridiculous, convoluted, and creative ways possible. Admittedly the whole thing is depraved but there's just something so funny about it that, well, I can't help but love it."

"It sounds disturbing," muttered Steve.

"You can take a look and decide for yourself if you'd like," added Danya. "My copies of the books are either between H. P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe or between Gilgamesh and William Gibson. Don't remember which."

Steve's eyes nearly bugged out when he actually took in the shear number of books Danya had crammed onto her shelves. "Its like a library without a card catalog."

"Card Catalog is the table nearest the bookshelves," replied Danya with a smirk.

It took Steve a minute to realize she was messing with him a little. Not maliciously, just jokingly. "You're lying."

"Completely," confirmed Danya. "I should have one though. 1200 books is a lot to have without some sort of organization."

"Disorganized, crazy, mischievous, you don't have a brother named Thor correct?" teased back Steve. Thor had told them some about his brother Loki, notably about how he'd kept his room at home and how much he loved pranks.

Danya just laughed. "Nope, though I did have a friend once who declared me the Goddess of Mayhem. I'm not completely sure he was joking about it either."

Steve shrugged with a smile. "If the shoe fits..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," muttered Danya as she glanced at something on her computer and nodded. "Alright Steve, you're good to go. Tests show you're body is still in the same state it was 40 years ago, so the super-juice you were given is still in affect."

Steve nodded and turned back towards Danya, examining her critically. "You don't need to send it to a doctor or anything?"

"I have a PhD in biochemistry, I think I can handle doing a blood test comparison," growled Darcy.

"Sorry," squeaked Steve as he raised both of his hands. "I didn't mean to show any disrespect."

Danya sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know. I look too young to be doing this stuff. Seriously though, Fury himself has stated that I'm one of the more competent scientists down here. That's why he's got me running these tests."

He felt bad now. Clearly the woman wasn't normally shown much respect expect by Fury from the sounds of it. "If Fury says you are more than competent, than I will trust his judgment. I apologize if I insulted you."

"Don't worry about it," muttered Danya with a smile. "It happens all the time. Also, seriously, I'm not gonna pull a gun out and shoot at you. I'm not allowed to carry firearms down here, which is probably a good thing 'cause I'd be tempted to shoot Coulson in the ass every time I saw him."

Steve smiled slightly, understanding her inclination. "So, when do I need to come back?"

She glanced at a calender beside her computer. "Same day two weeks from now."

"Right," confirmed Steve. "I'll return then. Is there an easy way out of here?"

Danya nodded. "A security guard will lead you out, just go down the platform outside to the first tunnel entrance you find."

"Thank you," stated Steve with a smile. "I'll see you then."

"Later Steve," replied Danya. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Steve chuckled slightly. "What's on that list?"

"Absolutely nothing," laughed Danya.

He just nodded and left, careful to close the door on his way out. Smile still stuck on his face, he began down the platform while thinking about the tests and realized, with someone like Danya doing the testing, this whole thing might not be so bad. In fact, it could be downright interesting.