((That weird moment when you're really into the idea of a ship, yet you feel as if you're cheating on your main one. Oh well, Steve and Darcy have their own slice of my head-canon all to themselves. Here's my humble Crossover offering, whole new 'verse and new take on minor character. As usual, while I enjoy Movie-verse X-Men, as far as I am concerned it ended after X2 ;) So it's a tossed salad in my head of comic-canon, movie-faces, and every Marvel character having their proper accents. This first chapter is light and introductory, but I plan on making this one pretty angsty as it goes along. Enjoy.))
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Someone You've Yet To Meet
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Her dossier had literally read 'middle of nowhere', and at the time, on the private jet courtesy of SHIELD and one Anthony 'Iron-Man' Stark, Darcy Lewis had laughed. But after landing in Anchorage at 5am, and then taking a tiny rattling plane, followed by a rattling supply van to the town of Halfmast by noon, Darcy was too tired to even make the obvious jokes. Because yes, it was the middle of nowhere. In fact, Nowhere had probably forgotten that it's own mass included Halfmast, a blip with a lumber mill between two actual logging towns, which were a considerable distance apart as it was.
The town...village?...was set far back from the long, meandering highway, on the edge of a National Park, surrounded by thick forest, the lumber mill, and high mountains. It consisted of a few houses, post office, ranger station, a motel, bar, gas station and grocery store. There was even an honest-to-Thor general store, full of flannel shirts, rock candy and hunting equipment. Darcy pales, wondering how bad the wifi is.
She checks into her room at the small, yet clean and well-kept motel. It's an old place, but isn't run-down in the way that random motels are in the rest of the States. It just doesn't get much business, Darcy figures, a low whistle leaving her lips when she sees her room. Moose. Moose and bears and dark greens and browns everywhere. She starts to wonder if Sarah Palin will jump out of the closet with a rifle and a dead wolf, to complete the picture.
Dropping her ancient, old man suitcase, Darcy immediately draws out her laptop, connecting to the okay, not amazing internet, and sending off a few messages. First, to her boss, the ever-intimidating Director Fury.
"Arrived safely, plan on finding my target this evening. Phone reception shitty, I'll be in touch here. Thank Tony for the steak on the flight."
And then to Jane.
"Oh my god this place is both super gorgeous and super boring. Miss you. Make sure you're eating between the science and the sex."
And finally, to her old friend from high-school, who happens to live at a fancy, removed mansion alongside some very interesting people.
"Got here safe, I'll start hunting down Logan tonight. This place is a whole new kind of boondocks, Marie, you owe me big time."
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The incident was three weeks ago. While no one died, all the usual government channels are getting the same old earful about 'dangerous mutants' and 'unsupervised vigilantes'. They've tracked Wolverine to the middle of nowhere, but it was his biggest defender who arm-wrestled Fury into sending someone of her choosing to go talk sense into him, to ask him to come back to the world. Not some suit, or a superhero he'd get into a pissing match with, or one of his friends from the institute who'd be awash in pity. When Rogue mentions that her best friend from high-school happened to work for SHIELD now, and gave him her name, Fury had just smirked.
"Miss, sending Tony or Captain Rogers would be kinder. To Logan."
Still, for some reason it had been decided that a tender touch might just work best. Darcy wasn't sure how tender her touch actually was, but she was good at dealing with grumpy people. Her mother had always said she had a gift for wheedling her way into people's sights, getting on their good side. And failing that, she could always just be annoying as hell. That would sure send the poor guy running back to Westchester, at least.
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Darcy lets herself have a good long nap after unpacking and taking a shower. Long, meandering plane rides are the utter worst, and she almost feels human again when she wakes up around dinner time. Tugging on her black coat and a Dr. Who scarf, which seems a proper commentary on the weather, she buries her hands in her pockets and heads for the only restaurant in town, which also happens to be the only bar.
Inside looks like every cozy diner she's ever seen on road trips with her mother, though off near the left side it's obviously more for straight-up bar patrons, neon PBR and Guinness signs casting blue light onto the pool table, and nary a No Smoking sign to be seen. To the right, more tables and chairs, and a family having dinner. Mostly it's taken up with the men and a few women from the nearby lumber mill. There's a giant St. Bernard under the bar, and Darcy decides that yes, she must sit near him, picking a stool in the middle of the counter.
"Hey hun, what'll you have?" Asks the middle-aged woman behind the bar, who looks a LOT like the elderly lady who runs the motel.
"Uh, pint of Guinness and a big bloody burger?" Darcy grins, and gets an appreciative "You got it!". She doesn't even get carded. That doesn't mean nobody's watching, though.
"You old enough to be drinkin'?" A voice drawls to her left, "Wait, scratch that. Are you even old enough to be in this town, alone?"
Darcy snorts, rolling her eyes and looking over at the figure sitting under his cloud of cigar smoke. Giving him the once-over to be sure, she lifts her chin, narrowing her eyes at him, before sliding over her SHIELD ID, "Twenty-one last month," She states, primly, as Logan groans over the white and blue card.
"Fuckin' hell, really?" He sighs, and then looks her up and down again. And frowns. "...That's still barely old enough to be an Agent. Why'd they send you?"
"Believe it or not, I am just here to hang out," Darcy grins, swinging her feet back and forth in their docs, above the lazy dog's head, as her beer is set in front of her, "No one's forcing you to come back or...yanno, acknowledge what happened." Wolverine lets out an unamused grunt, "But someone was concerned. And asked me to do her a favor."
"Which was?"
"Make sure you're alright."
"Right as rain. Now go home to your mother." Logan smirks. And Darcy smiles right back, foam mustache on her upper lip.
"Can't, I've got a burger coming, and mom's spending her summer in Thailand." She says lightly, wiping her mouth on her cuff. He just grumbles, burying himself in his glass of what looks like scotch.
"..I wasn't jokin' though, you really here alone?"
"There's...a chance SHIELD has men in black watching us right now, but otherwise, as far as I know for sure, yep," Darcy takes a long swig of her beer. "I've got mace and a taser on me though, I did pick up on the whole 'secluded lumber town' thing."
"Well it's true," Logan glances sideways at her, "Town's all right, but don't hang around the mill. You've got truckers and guys up here just for work, aint seen a soft girl in months. Fuckin' animals."
"Sounds like -exactly- the company I'd want to keep, if I took a vacation from the world." Darcy notes pointedly, and Logan shakes his head.
"Deservin' guys to knock around when the mood hits."
"See," She notes, as she gets her wonderfully unhealthy-looking burger, "You say that. But I happen to have it on very good authority that you are only half the hard-ass you pretend to be. Authority who had a big ol' crush on you, when she first met you outside a cage fight." There's a pause in the grumbling, and slowly, Logan puts out his cigar in a nearby ashtray.
"How do you know Rogue?" He asks, quietly, and as the cloud dissipates, Darcy sees a pretty good-looking dude, in that rough, scruffy, flannel-wearing way. She finishes her first big bite of burger before answering.
"High-school. Before she cut and run, anyway," Darcy's voice is a little softer then, picking at her fries, "Still a little pissed that she didn't tell me why. But then, super-people are kinda old news to me now. Anyway, we got back in touch when I moved to New York a couple months ago, with my boss..." She tilts her head to the side, "I met Remy last week. She really does have a type these days, doesn't she?"
"Do not compare me to that clown," Logan tells her sharply, even though he's grinning, motioning for a pint of what she's having. Darcy grins back, biting her lip.
"So totally not what I'd expected either, she was such a mushy virgin in school. I was pretty mushy myself, but she took it to a level. There were sweatshirts with cats on them involved. It wasn't pretty."
"...Please don't imply that my little Marie aint a virgin anymore," He winces. Darcy opens her mouth, ready to remind him that, Rogue's mutation or not, she's dating -Gambit-, but he holds up a hand, "Nope. Shut it." She does so, smirking, and returning to her burger. Logan watches her for a few more minutes, and then sighs, "...Are you REALLY gonna just. Hang around this town, stalkin' me?"
"That -is- my official assignment, yep, along with eventually, gently, persuading you to go back to New York," Darcy nods, licks her fingers clean of ketchup and grease, "You'd rather have a suit? Tony Stark?"
"...I'm thinkin'."
"Think of it another way," She bites her lip, eying him a little shyly now, "...They sent me, and not a pair of burly superheroes to drag you back and lock you up. That has to say something about how the people close to you see the incident. And how they see you. They're giving you your space," She plucks up her beer again, murmuring into the glass, "Just...making sure you're not beating yourself up."
"And they think a kid half my size is gonna keep me from beatin' myself up?" He's smirking again though, tossing back his beer as well. Darcy grins wide.
"Worked the last time you went running."
"...Fair enough."
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