A/N: I just want to let you know that I am BLOWN AWAY by all of the action this story has already received. I have never had a story catch on so quickly! Ever! I want to say THANK YOU to all of my wonderful reviewers and all of the people who decided to follow and/or favorite my story. I hope I don't disappoint! :)

Thank you! Just had to gush for a second there...Now...On with the story!

Disclaimer: Not mine...boo... :(

2) Hell Hath no Fury

I was just barely on time to my 8:00 meeting. As in, I-Skidded-Into-Coulson's-Office-As-My-Watch-Beeped-On-Time, but on time.

"Good morning Miss Lewis, I trust you slept well."

I shrugged. I was a college student working for an sciency insomniac...fill in the blanks.

"Lewis!" I jumped about a foot.

There was a man standing in the doorway, practically taking it up. He was huge, not only in stature, but it presence. Dude was scary.

I scrambled to my feet, forced upright by some long forgotten well-mannered instinct, or possibly self-preservation; I didn't feel either one often enough to tell them apart.

Oh cool! Scary Dude has eyepatch!

"-offer you a job!"

Dammit Darcy, this is why you have to pay attention! Also...why does he always sound so angry? Wait...this must be Fury...Of all the rotten jokes.

"Well?" Director I-Have-An-Eyepatch-Hear-Me-Roar demanded.

I blinked at him, doing what I'm sure was a marvelous impression of a tree full of owls. "Er...well, what?"

"Do you want the job?"

"Job? I thought I was here to make sure that Jane didn't collapse from exhaustion and/or set herself on fire."

"You are! But Coulson needs a new assistant!"

"I don't think I can do that...I'm not an agent or anything. I mean, I have a taser, but unless the bad guys are great conductors..." I trailed off as both men looked at me strangely. Well, I think that may just be Fury's face, and Coulson always looks like that...nevermind.

"Miss Lewis," Coulson started slowly with patience of someone constantly surrounded by the unreasonable (He must work with Tony Stark) "I don't need you for any field work. I need someone to organize things, file papers, take phone calls, et cetera...Similar to what you did for Dr. Foster. Are you going to take the job?"

"Sure," I shrugged. Didn't really think I had a choice. "I'm still going to check on Jane though!" I made sure to cross my arms and adopt my best serious face.

Coulson nodded. "Of course, can't have our new physicist bursting into flames."

"Alright then. When do I start?"

"Immediately. The reception room is just here."

"Reception room?!" I sputtered. "I thought this was a storage closet!"

"Yes, well, I haven't had a secretary in quite some time...Let me know if there is anything confusing."

He disappeared back into his office, fleeing my wrath.

I took off my glasses and scrubbed a hand over my eyes; it hurt to look at the mess. Coulson was obviously a closet hoarder.

I pushed up the sleeves of my dark green pullover and used a rubber band to corral my hair into a messy bun at the back of my head. Let's do this!

Who Knows How Much Time Later...

Paperwork was of the devil; I was convinced. Paperwork was of the devil, and Lucifer himself wrote these reports with his horns! With his eyes closed!

I grumbled to myself, holding the paper ever closer to my face. I couldn't tell whether this was a memo or a suicide note...could also be a grocery list.

"Argh!" I dropped the papers onto the desk, glowering at the handful of hateful sheets that slid onto the floor. Bastards.

I looked at my watch, it was eleven-thirty. I walked over and poked my head into Coulson's office.

"Hey Boss! Do you need coffee or anything?"

"No thank you, Miss Lewis." He didn't even look up from his papers. Either he was ignoring me because I was a lowly intern, or refusing to meet my eyes out of shame. I preferred the later; shame was good for my ego.

"Ok, let me rephrase: Can I go get you some coffee, or tea, or lunch, or something that requires me to leave this room and stretch my legs, because I am about this far-" I held my finger a millimeter apart "-from losing what remain of my marbles!"

"In that case Miss Lewis," Coulson put one set of papers down to pick up another. "Why don't you go and visit Dr. Foster?"

"Oh yeah! Time for Jane's first sugar rush...I just hope she's still coherent..."

"Poptart..."

"Jesus Christ!"

It was a monster. The bags under The-Creature-That-Had-Once-Been-Jane's eyes had bags, her hair was limply covering her face, and her skin was blanched from malnutrition and insomnia.

"Poptart..." it hissed again.

"Bed, " I countered. "Shower. Food."

"Poptart..." it whined.

Reluctantly, I reached out and grabbed her arm. I towed her from the lab down to the lobby. I marched out of SHIELD headquarters and waved like I'd seen people do in the movies for a taxi. A bright yellow one pulled up after a few moments and I pushed Jane inside, sliding in after her. After some cajoling, I managed to entice Jane to murmur her current address. The ride wasn't that long, but it was apparently long enough for the cab driver to feel he was entitled to skin me alive. Fifty dollars for fifteen minutes!

Well, there goes my grocery money, I sniffed, feeling robbed. I glowered at the driver as I handed the money over, as if I could shame him into giving me a break. He just bared a snaggle-toothed grin at me while snatching the bills I reluctantly proffered with a greasy hand. I hauled Jane inside, muttering darkly to myself, as I used her key card to open the elevator I refuse to take the stairs again, dammit!

"Whoa!" It was huge. The ceiling was vaulted and the rooms were wide open. A large, L-shaped sofa sat in front of a flat screen wider than I was tall!

"Nice digs, Foster," I commented still towing her to her room. She mumbled something about poptarts And people say I have a one-track mind...

I pulled Jane into her room; it was massive, so I assumed that she shared it with His Majesty of Blonde Mightiness when he was planet-side. I decided to just put Jane to bed and let her sleep before I trusted her alone under running water; I'm not sure how I would explain a water-logged physicist, but I was willing to bet that it would be significantly more difficult than explaining a one that was burnt around the edges. I took off her shoes and rolled her under the covers, making sure that she could still breath; I didn't want to have to think of an excuse for suffocation either.

I didn't want her to just go back to eating poptarts, so I decided to see what the Wonder House offered in terms of groceries.

I wandered back into the first room, the one with the epic television, and saw a breakfast bar along one wall. I crossed over quickly, my converses squeaking obnoxiously on the ridiculously shiny hardwood.

Yes! On the other side of the breakfast bar was a kitchen that would make any celebrity chef drool...

It was all stainless steel appliances and marble counter tops. I wandered around like a kid in a candy door, floating over to the enormous refrigerator. I was significantly less graceful as I struggled to heave it open, but eventually the door gave in and I peered into the cold, brightly lit, device.

"Huh," I mumbled, tongue pressed against the inside of my cheek. On the top shelf there was a carafe of orange juice, at least two gallons of milk, and a bottle of golden apple juice. I could see tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, and a large cucumber in the crisper. I could see a wedge of farmer's cheese and several parcels wrapped in butcher's paper in the meat drawer. In the doors I could see all the basic condiments: mustard, ketchup, mayo, jelly (guava?), and a pat of creamy butter on a ceramic dish.

I heaved the doors closed, and looked around the counter. There was a large dome like object against the wall next to the knife block (ohh KutCo!) I slide open the lid. A bread box. Hmm...

I took a loaf of what appeared to be homemade sourdough and set it on the glass cutting board. Looks like it was going to be a grilled cheese and tomato slices. Simple, but not too hard on her stomach, and it would at least put some nutrients into her severely deprived system.

I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach the medium sized skillet hanging over the stove (oh, the joys of being five-foot-nothing!) but eventually I was able to set it on the burner and I cranked up the heat. I removed the cheese and butter from the refrigerator. I dropped a little of the butter into the heating pan to grease it, sandwiches always seemed to stick for some reason...bastards...

I half-cut, half-tore, two pieces of bread from the loaf and added a medium slice of the cheese. I placed the sandwich onto the pan hssss! where it sat sizzling, I placed a copper kettle on top to flatten the sandwich, because that's how I roll...it's how Gina always made it.

While the sandwich crisped and melted and flattened, I replaced the bread back into its box, and put the cheese and butter back into the refrigerator, taking out the tomato. I quickly cut three hearty slices from the vegetable...er...fruit...whatever...the red juices running across the cutting board. I was crossing the kitchen in search of a plate when I smelled the sandwich. I quickly turned off the heat and lifted the sandwich gingerly with a spatula and quickly set it behind the tomato on the cutting board away from the streams of juice.

"Okay, and now...a plate." I crossed back over to the cabinets and opened the first one. Cups (Again!). The next one; enough bowls to feed a small country. The last one...Aha!

Ugh...are you kidding me?

Oh, there were plates all right, but they were all on the top shelf.

I sighed and scrambled up onto the counter. Raising up on my knees, I stretched my arms over my head, reaching for the plates. Reaching...reaching...yeah, this wasn't going anywhere.

I brought my hands back down to brace them on the second shelf, and started to lift my left leg, preparing to stand up-

"Um...do you need some help?"

"Ack!"

I jumped as the voice suddenly came from nowhere; my foot slipped off of the counter and I slid backwards. My eyes clenched shut and I braced from my impact with the hardwood floor -which no longer seemed as spiffy since my face was going to smash into it-

A/N: Mwah-ha-ha...I'm evil...Review, or Darcy shall spin forever more into oblivion...Not really, hope you enjoyed though!