Okay, so here's the thing. I don't read the comic books. This is strictly based on movie canon. So, obviously there will be inaccuracies. Take it for what it is. It's JUST fanfic. And I figure, Darcy doesn't technically exist in the comic books, so this is totally my own thing.
Obviously will probably disregard Thor 2. Set post-Avengers, pre-Iron Man 3.
Do you know what I was doing at this time two years ago? Well, I don't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure it involved a Cup-A-Ramen and bad T.V. while studying for finals. I was a normal girl. I mean, as normal as you can be growing up with a mother who thinks it's okay to borrow clothes from her ten year old daughter and have a naval piercing. Dad's been out of the picture pretty much since I could walk, leaving me with Jodie (My mother insisted I call her by her first name so that people would think we were sisters). We got along okay, I guess. I mean, she didn't hit me or anything. She didn't really do much of anything with me.
Truth be told, I haven't seen her in about eight years. I don't miss her. I'm sure she doesn't miss me. I ended up living with my Aunt Kate when I was eleven. We hadn't really ever been close before, but I was shocked when she and Uncle Dan took me in like I was their own. It was weird coming home every night to a table with actual food on it. The most grocery shopping Jodie had done was to run up to the 7-11 for cigarettes and Slim Fast.
Okay, so fast forward to a little over one year ago. I was right on the brink of getting my B.A. in Cultural Anthropology. I was this effing close. But a glitch in the registration system screwed me out of my elective Philosophy class, leaving me six credits short. Six. Effing. Credits. So, I was obviously pissed. I'm not down with wasting my summers on school. Especially when I was literally one class away. But, luck or fate (or the fact that Physics is a bullshit field of science and nobody applied for the position) made my student advisor suggest an internship with some doctor who was doing research on…something…and I applied.
"What do I have to do?" I'd asked, to which the advisor had waved her perfectly manicured hand casually.
"Oh, you know…you would basically be an assistant. Take dictation. Get coffee. That sort of thing…"
Yeah, that bitch didn't know what it was either, because let me tell you, it was not like that. First of all, Jane Foster is kind of an uptight nut. She's this frantic, compulsive genius woman, and everything is pretty much life or death with her. Erik Selvig, I liked. He's a good guy. Serious and kind of quiet, but nice. Obviously, I was not what they were expecting. You know, someone who took and well, understood physics. But I was all they had, so it was that or nothing.
Which leads us to what I will refer to as The Incident. (Like on LOST, except weirder.) But, we'd been staking out in the middle of the desert in New Mexico every night tracking electromagnetic activity (I think), and out of nowhere, comes this freaky flashing lights tornado thing out of the sky, which the brilliant Dr. Foster sends me hurtling toward in a tin can of a trailer and this big, blond doofus falls out of the sky and we hit him.
That was Thor.
I'm not going to rattle on about Thor. We all know who he is. Big guy, muscly, brawny. Wields a hammer. Has a sociopath brother who tried to take over the world…twice.
Well, he and Jane kind of fell in love and he had to leave when said sociopath was on the rampage so he could save his Dad. I know, I know…it's more complicated than the Kardashian family tree. Bear with me here.
Well, long story short, I graduated. I got my degree, and let me tell you, I earned that bad boy after what we went through with Brother-Thor's little Destroyer toy. My internship with Jane ended, and I came home to California. I know this may be surprising, but jobs in the field of Anthropology weren't just flying at me.
One year after graduation, I was working for a company that sells rubber bands. Seriously, that's what I was doing with my degree. I sold rubber bands to people. Live the dream, kids. Live it. After an extremely taxing day of sitting at a desk and trying to convince people why they need a bulk supply of rubber bands, I returned to the crappy little apartment I was renting outside L.A. and decided to heat up a delicious Easy Mac before curling up in front of my old (non-flat screen) T.V.
That's when I saw Breaking News on every station.
The first person I recognized was Erik Selvig. He was standing on top of a building in front of some freaky glowing thing. I set my Easy Mac aside and grabbed my cell, praying the number I was about to call hadn't changed.
"Hello?" She answered on the first ring.
Whatcha doin'…?" I drawled into the phone, making Jane gasp.
"Darcy?"
"Yeah, it's me," I turned my eyes back to the grim picture on my T.V. "Are you seeing this?"
"Seeing what?" Jane sighed, "I'm in knots. Darcy, Thor's back."
"Where are you?"
"I'm on my way to New York. I have to talk to him." I could tell by desperation in her voice that she was driving. Glancing at the news, I shook my head skeptically.
"Jane, that's not a good idea. It looks like Transformers three out there!" I told her, before pausing, "Oh my God, do you think Optimus Prime could like, really exist?"
"Darcy!" Jane moaned . "Not now."
"Jane, this is a bad idea." That's when I saw the live broadcast of Thor and his baby bro beating the piss out of each other on the roof of the Stark building. "Senor Loco has a magic wand—ah crap! There goes the K on Stark!"
"His name is Loki," Jane said, sounding like she was gritting her teeth.
"I don't care if the guy's name is Sparkles, the point is he's whacked!" I cried, wincing as he shot a helicopter. "Anyway, please just be careful…if you're going to do this…and I know you will, can you call me and let me know if you're okay?"
"Of course I will."
"Tell Thor I said hey," I added, before hanging up. I stayed glued to the screen for the better part of two hours, watching in horror with the world as Iron Man flew a nuclear missile up into space and the world hushed as we waited for him to fall back down. I have to be honest. Tony Stark is one of the coolest damn people on the planet, so I was legitimately scared for him. But somehow, he made it and we all lived to see another day.
Which brings us to the beginning of this story. Mine. Darcy Madonna Lewis (Yes that is my real middle name. You can check my birth certificate).
It starts with a phone call.
True to her word, Jane calls me the next day. She couldn't get into the city, and when she finally did, Thor was already gone again. Phil Coulson is dead. Obviously, I didn't know him very well, other than the fact that he took Jane's stuff without an explanation. There's going to be a funeral the following day in New York.
"I think you should come," Jane tells me, to which I laugh.
"Oh, yeah! I'll just take a good four hundred out of my non-existent savings and shoot right over!" I tell her. "Some of us work for a living, Jane! I barely even knew him."
"That's not the point," Jane replies in a low voice, "I think there may be a job opportunity here for you. S.H.I.E.L.D. is rebuilding their staff, and they're going to need people to collect information on the other realms. Since you have a degree in Anthropology, Erik suggested you to Fury for a position. Outside Communications Analyst."
"Don't they want someone with a little more experience?" I ask skeptically.
"I don't think so," She answers, "This position isn't like any other government job. And you've already had some experience with an extraterrestrial attack, so they can trust you. You signed that confidentiality waiver that Coulson drew up." She hesitates, "Unless you had something better out there…"
Oh yeah. Those rubber bands won't sell themselves.
"What do I do?" I sigh, defeated and far too hopeful for my own good. I can almost hear her smile.
"Just come tomorrow. Bring a résumé. Dress nice," She laughs.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I tease, already on my way into the bedroom to pack.
"No sneakers, Darce."
"Fine... What about the flight? I'm still broke," I remind her. "I'm pretty sure Aunt Kate and Uncle Dan are at their limit what with Jack graduating this year and Claire on cheerleading."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is paying for your flight. All you need to do is check in at the counter with your I.D. and they'll print your ticket for you," She explains. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you in the morning."
"What time is the flight?" I sigh, opening my closet.
"Five A.M. Your time."
"Ugh! Seriously, Jane?" I groan, "You know I'm not a morning person!"
"You can sleep on the plane. The funeral is at ten. They'll tell you the rest when you're here," She informs me. "I'm glad you're coming."
"Me too," I grin, gleefully realizing that I'll never have to see a five pound bag of rubber bands again. The second phone call is harder.
"Yo!"
I roll my eyes at my uncle trying to be the cool dad. "Uncle Dan, I'm pretty sure that was never cool. Nice try though," I laugh.
"What's up, Kiddo?" He asks.
"I uh…I wanted to let you know I got a job offer in New York City. I'm leaving in the morning." I fidget with my bedspread.
"What? Seriously, Darce?" Dan's voice drops his normal joking tone and adopts his concerned father voice. "That's a big decision, hon."
"Yeah, but it's a huge pay raise and I'll actually be using my degree, which is nice—"
"But it's all the way across the country," He reminds me, "We'll never see you!"
"Well, I'll be back for like, holidays and vacations and stuff…" I point out lamely, feeling a twinge of guilt. He sighs.
"Here, Aunt Kate wants to talk to you," He tells me, making my gut fill with dread.
"You're moving to New York?" She says without so much as a hello. "Shouldn't we talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" I ask, confused. "I mean, I'm twenty-four years old, Aunt Kate. It's time I started making my own way. I can't count on you forever…that's not your responsibility. You're not my parents." I can tell by the silence on the phone that I've unintentionally hurt her. This is something we've never talked about. "Aunt Kate, I'm s—"
"You listen to me, Darcy," She says quietly, "I may not have given birth to you, but you mean just as much to me as Jack and Claire. I don't care what your birth certificate says, you are our kid. Okay?" I'm a little shocked when my eyes fill with tears as I'm not really a crier. I don't cry at those sappy Lifetime movies or the evil commercials where Sarah MacLachlan pleads with you to donate to the A.S.P.C.A. But, all of a sudden, my eyes burn and my throat closes and I wish I knew what to say, but I don't so I just stay on the line silent. "Darce?"
"Yeah," I choke, sniffing as quietly as I can. "Okay."
"Now, let's talk about this," Kate tells me gently, "What's this job offer?" I blink, quickly composing myself.
"It's as an…analyst…for, um…an agency." I throw my arms up helplessly, knowing I can't tell her what I'm doing, so I opt for, "Basically, it's a social worker." I pray she can't detect my lie through the phone as I unceremoniously fling clothes into a suitcase.
"And, do you think it's worth moving across the country?" Kate inquires, making me swallow, trying to think of more cover lies. "What with the big attacks there yesterday? The place is in ruins!"
"Yeah," I tell her, "I have some friends out there and the city is making all kinds of jobs to…um…help with the rebuilding and all that. Kids who've lost homes and parents and stuff."
"Well, I think that's honorable," Dan's voice comes in, and it's only then that I realize we're on speaker.
"Yes, but it's so far…"
"She's twenty-four, Katie."
"She's just a kid."
"Guys?" I interrupt, "I love you both like crazy, but I really do have to pack. I have to come home and pack the rest of my place anyway. So, I'll come then. 'Kay?"
"So, you're really going?" Kate asks, sounding close to tears. Okay, I'm not sure when this happens, but it seems like all moms develop this innate ability to guilt trip their spawn. Aunts too, apparently.
"Yeah," I exhale, "I'm really going. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Really? A social worker?" Dan's says doubtfully. I cringe.
"Big raise…" I reiterate. "Big raise."
"Call us as soon as you're in," Kate insists, making me smile despite rolling my eyes.
"I will."
"Do you have your Taser?" Dan asks, making me laugh. It was my birthday gift from him on my twenty-first after all.
"Yep."
"Good girl." We say our goodbyes, and I return to my messy packing, stuffing everything I can think of into my suitcase. Tampons. Makeup. Q-Tips. The only thing I don't pack is my razor, mainly because I'm not really sure what is considered a weapon these days.
The next morning when I get to the airport and I give my I.D., the woman running the desk gives me a skeptical look. She clearly thinks it's a fake, considering my name is Darcy Madonna Lewis.
"Alright," I sigh, seeing her eyebrows rise. "Yes, that is really my middle name. Yes, I was named after the singer with the cone boobs. Yes, my mother was a nut. No, I am not crazy." She pauses for a moment, before handing back the I.D. and picking up the phone as my pulse races. I'm going to be arrested because my kook bag of a mother named me after an eighties popstar.
"Mr. Stark," She says calmly, "Ms. Lewis has arrived. Yes, I'll send her right over. Thank you." She smiles at me and gestures to a very serious looking dude in a suit with an earpiece. I give the woman a hesitant smile and head over to James Bond.
"Darcy Lewis?"
I nod. "'Sup?"
"The sky," He replies dryly. I like him already. "I'm Happy Hogan, Mr. Stark's head of security. He's waiting in the jet for you."
"Wait," I stop him, holding my hand up. "Mr. Stark…as in Tony Stark?"
"He's kind of a big deal," Happy nods, smirking. I notice two other guys grab my bags as we start to walk toward the terminal.
"So, I'm getting picked up in a private jet?" I grin, ready to squeal. Yesterday I was selling rubber bands and eating Easy Mac. Today I'm about to board Tony Stark's private freaking jet and become an Outside Communications Analyst for S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Pretty cool, huh?" He grins as we approach a door where two men stand guard. People probably think I'm like, the President's daughter or something. I follow the guys outside and up the stairs into the plane. Now, I've been on planes in my life. We went to Disney World once when I was in high school. I remember being crammed in the seats and a Claire barfing all over herself. I remember babies crying and weird little dinging noises.
This plane is not that. This plane has got swag. There are like three giant flat screen T.V.'s and a table with food on it and a bar. Okay, so it's like six in the morning, but who can say they partied it up in the air? Maybe me! Oh yeah, and then there's the fact that Tony Stark is chillin' on one of the seats, casually talking up one of his security guys, while a pretty redheaded woman makes sure everything is set and approaches me.
"Darcy?" I nod. "I'm Pepper Potts. Mr. Stark's secretary—"
"Girlfriend!" Stark corrects good naturedly, giving her a wicked grin. She rolls her eyes, but she smiles anyway.
"Make yourself comfortable," She tells me, patting my arm. "Can we get you something to drink?"
"Bloody Mary?" I joke, noticing her eyes widen.
"I like her," Stark laughs, standing and walking toward me, reaching for my hand. "Tony Stark."
"Oh, right, because I had no idea," I quip, grinning at him. "Darcy Lewis. Champion seller of rubber bands and pretty good with a Taser."
"Really?" He gives me an assessing look. "I'd peg you more as a toothpick gal. Tasers, huh?"
"Yeah," I shrug, "I tased Thor."
"Now that I'd pay to see," He agrees. "Welcome aboard, Lewis."
I'm still kind of in disbelief as we land in what's left of New York. I have to admit, it looked bad on T.V., but this is so much worse. Buildings are in shambles. Rescue workers are still trying to dig for missing people. A cloud of dust still looms over parts of the city. We're immediately whisked into a car that takes us to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. The funeral has just ended and people are returning to their jobs. I try not to stare as I recognize Captain America and Dr. Banner standing off to the side, talking intently. That's when I see Jane and Erik. I hadn't realized how much I've missed them until I realize I'm bounding toward them with the energy of a hyperactive puppy. We all end up in a (most likely disturbing) triple hug.
"It's been forever!" Jane cries, pulling away, glancing down at my outfit approvingly. "Heels. Nice."
"Good to have you here," Erik adds fondly, patting my shoulder.
"So, what's the deal with Thor? He's just…gone?" I ask, linking arms with Jane. Her eyes darken slightly, but she keeps the smile on her face.
"Now, we wait. He's going to come back," She murmurs. I wonder if she's trying to convince herself or us.
"Well, he can leave the baggage at home when he does," I say, glancing out the window at the destruction again.
"Loki isn't a threat anymore," Erik assures me. "Thor assured us that he's been cuffed and muzzled."
"Muzzled?" I laugh.
"One of Loki's weapons is his silver tongue," Erik explains, making me waggle my eyebrows suggestively at Jane, who shakes her head at me.
"Look, I'm sorry, you asked for that. Talking about silver tongues. That's filthy, Selvig," I chuckle.
"You haven't changed at all," Erik smiles, "We've missed you."
"So what do you mean cuffed?" I ask, pressing again for details on the psycho. "Isn't he like magic and junk?" Jane jumps in before Erik can answer.
"The cuff basically renders him unable to perform any magic." She shares a look with Erik uneasily. "They're preparing a new cell for him here. He's likely going to be sent back to Earth as punishment. Like Thor was."
"Sounds like our punishment," I mutter.
"Which is why we need you," Erik adds, making my eyes narrow on him.
"Exsqueeze me?"
"With your research in sociology and culture, we need someone to, well, be a buffer. To befriend him, if you will. Convince him to cooperate with S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Wait a sec," I stop him, "I'm going to be The God of Mental Instability's babysitter?"
"He's Outside Communications," Erik explains, "You're the new Outside Communications Analyst. Which means that you're in charge of getting through to Loki."
"By doing what?" I exclaim, "Letting him throw fireballs at me and hoping for the best?"
"He won't have magic." Jane reminds me.
"Oh, good." I snap, wondering what I've just gotten into. "So, I'm like his shrink."
"More or less," Erik shrugs, looking a little sheepish…bastard.
"What do they need his cooperation with?" I ask cautiously, looking between the two of them, starting as someone walks up behind me. I whirl around to see Nick Fury standing before me.
"We have reason to believe his people – the Jotuns – are planning some sort of attack once the Bifrost regenerates. Apparently, they want revenge on Loki and Asgard for murdering their king Laufey, Loki's biological father. "
"Oh," I reply, making a face. "Well, goody. I can't wait to shoot the shit with Prince Frosty. I'm sure we'll get along great." I feel infinitely less confident about this job, my only consolation being the pretty paycheck and the rent free apartment I get in Stark Tower.
"Nick, what about Thor?" Jane asks worriedly, "Is he going to come back too?" I feel for her. I really do. I mean, the girl can't catch a break. She finally finds a guy who isn't put off by her going on about wormholes and electromagnetic energy and dark matter and he lives across the damn universe. Talk about your long distance relationship. It's been over a year since she's seen him. Granted it's been about six months since I've been on a date too, but she wins. My biggest problem is I can't stand idiots and yet, I attract them. I'm like a crazy cat lady for losers. Jane used to tell me I unconsciously sabotage my relationships because my standards are too high. I'm sorry, is it so terrible to want a guy who knows that a Coccyx is not his ding dong?
"Thor will return shortly after Loki, according to his message. He is going to make sure that the realm is secure before leaving," Fury informs us. "He and Odin are both in agreement that it would be best if Loki was monitored by his brother. We'll keep him in the cell briefly, and then hopefully, reassess and he will be released on a trial basis into a living situation, where he will have to learn how to live without the luxury of his power."
"Yes, because supervillains always want to be redeemed," I mutter, already exhausted and shooting Jane an accusatory look. "Opportunity my ass." I could be selling rubber bands right now.
Okay, I'm going to admit, when I see the apartment, I feel slightly better about this situation. It's fully furnished with state of the art appliances and Stark technology. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms (one of which is a gigantic walk in shower.) I may or may not nearly weep at the sight of the king sized bed in the master bedroom with sleek white linens and a vase of fuchsia orchids on the dresser. I flop onto the bed and stare at the ceiling.
I'm home.
Bring it on, Loki. I dare you.