"Tromso?"

Fury flinched, pulling the phone away from his ear as Darcy's voice shrieked across the line. He glared at Coulson as the man's lips twitched.

"Darcy-" he began.

"Oh, don't even!" Darcy's voice hit the perfect pitch of disbelief, annoyance, and anger. "Do you have any idea how frickin' cold it is here? I'm in three layers and still freezing! Why the hell are we in Norway? Jane could have answered these questions over a damn Skype call. Drag us out of bed at zero-dark-thirty to throw us on a plane for a bunch of airheaded science loons, and for what? Jane's ready to rip their head guy another one because he's a chauvinistic twit who thinks women should be support staff. If he gives her one more line about being Erik's intern, there's going to be quality homicide over here. And the security team? How much trouble will I be in if I just put them on their asses?"

"Darcy-" Fury tried again.

"I mean it, Dad! There better be one damn fine reason you've planted us here." Vehemence dripped from her tone. "Trust me, if this is some stupid stunt because of a 'possible'," and no voice should be allowed that much sarcasm in one word, "threat, I swear I'm calling Mom right now and telling her about last Christmas."

"Barton's been compromised," he stated.

Silence fell. He could hear her breathing, but nothing else for several long moments. "What happened?" she asked finally.

He explained the situation to her quietly and succinctly. She just listened. "We needed to get Foster somewhere safe because of her connection with Thor," he finished. "You went with her because it is one of the few safe houses Barton doesn't know."

"So now what?" Darcy inquired. His eye narrowed at her subdued attitude. Something was definitely not right here.

"Now," he replied, still mulling her tone over in his mind, "you and Foster stay low. We're activating the Initiative to handle the situation."

"Uncle Phil must be over the moon," she commented, trying to sound upbeat, but only managing to be half successful.

"Something like that," he answered. Fury paused considering before delicately probing, "Darcy, do you need to tell me something?"

"Like what?" she popped back, hesitating just a moment too long for his comfort. "Like the security you sent us needs to go back to training? I swear, there are three different holes in their net, and I'm not even trying." She gave a laugh, but it was her show laugh, her 'yes, of course I'm happy to see you' laugh that she saved for social parties. "Oh," she continued before he could speak. "And tell Uncle Phil he's going to need a new hire soon. Wandering eyes I can usually ignore, but the dude with the wandering hands is pissing me off."

"Who the hell?" His voice dropped a register and iced over even as he marked her turning of the conversation. Coulson sat forward, eyes turning intent.

"Like I'm bothering to remember his name?" she replied snippily. "That'd just encourage him. Some idiot with a scar along the left jaw line and an Ohio accent."

Fury mentally reviewed the files of the agents sent to Tromso. He glanced at Coulson. "Hickson is in deep shit if he makes it back." Coulson gave a brief nod and Fury turned his attention back to the phone. "Don't kill him, but I'm not going to fuss about the shape he's in when we pick him back up."

"Good," she stated. "In that case I'm going to be trying out some of my new stuff."

"Darcy Marie."

She sighed. "It was worth a shot."

"Tell me about Barton."

"He's got my number, okay?" She gave a small growl. "We've talked."

"Talked," he repeated in a quiet, calm voice.

"Yeah, Dad," she grumbled. "Talked." He could almost hear her shrug. "He's cool – a lot better than most of the guys you usually have tailing me."

"Agent Barton is-"

"Older than I am, off-limits, too dangerous…"she let her voice trail away. "Is it one of those? Or should I keep guessing?"

"Any of them will do," he bit out.

"Dad, I'm not sixteen," she pointed out. "Besides which, he agrees with you on all of the above apparently, and that's not even counting what his response will be when he finds out about you and Mom." Fury stayed quiet and she sighed again. "Would I like to see if it could go somewhere? Yeah. Am I going to be naively stupid about it? No."

"He's an agent."

"Which means at least he could get to meet the family," she muttered. "It'd be a nice change."

"Can we not discuss this right now?" Fury rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Please stay put. Please don't kill the security team, and please keep Foster under control. We'll discuss this when it's over." There was silence on her end of the line. "Darcy?"

"Fine," she groused. "Conditionally."

"What?" His voice filled with suspicion.

"We actually will discuss this," she replied. "You don't get to relocate him or send him off to Siberia or something to avoid the problem. Mom has to be there for the talk. And you have to listen."

He growled, but gave in. "I don't like it."

A soft amused huff came over the line. "If it was up to you, I'd be in a convent."

He didn't try to argue. "Just keep your head down for now." She drew in a breath, but he spoke first. "And yes, you can put Hickson on his ass whenever necessary. We'll deal with him later."

"I say you make him Uncle Phil's assistant for a month," she commented.

"I'll take it under advisement."

"Bye, Dad," she said softly.

"Be careful, ladybug." He hung up the phone before shooting another glare at Coulson. "Not one word."