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I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.

-Robert Fulghum

Love is a force more formidable than any other. It is invisible - it cannot be seen or measured, yet it is powerful enough to transform you in a moment, and offer you more joy than any material possession could.

-Barbara de Angelis

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The reports following the attack-at least the ones Darcy received- stated that the attack was of terrorism on United States soil, and had nothing specifically to do with S.H.I.E.L.D. Other than the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. had a hand in preventing these sort of situations on occasion. Except this one, apparently. They were probably getting into a nice little argument with other letter agencies as to whose job it was to prevent this situation. Or they started it themselves. That was always the scary alternative option.

So yeah, it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Story of her fucking life at this point.

At least that's what Peggy said, and Darcy believed her about ninety percent of the time these days.

Howard was still off on his trip, but clearly had received word of her situation. She had woken up one morning in the hospital to an adorably awkward Edwin Jarvis who came bearing flowers and one of Howard's published technical papers. Edwin claimed that Howard had wanted her to have some 'light reading' while she was recovering. Edwin-clearly not on Howard's behalf-also snuck her some chocolate he said his wife was fond of.

And she thought Jane's papers were hard to follow. Howard had to be worse. The two of them in one room would get on like wildfire. Both were that nice shade of genius/batshit crazy. But at least it wasn't one size fits all one night stands diamond jewelry.

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It was another three weeks after she left the hospital and was allowed to stay in her apartment by herself that Howard finally came back into town. She didn't know how long he had been in town but having him show up at her door at 3 in the morning smelling of booze and probably something that included jet fuel or gasoline was not what she was expecting at all.

"Lew-yis." He knocked on the door and called in a loud voice.

Darcy rolled her eyes from her bed, but got up quickly to avoid having to explain to her neighbors why one of New York's best and brightest was drunkenly banging on her door in the early morning hours.

"Did you seriously just slur my name?" she asked once she jerked the door open to see Howard leaning against the door frame. His hand raised to knock again.

"I am incredibly drunk, Lewis. Car-bon-ell had too many syllables." He raised up a half empty bottle of scotch. Darcy was almost a hundred percent certain that it wasn't his first bottle. As she looked closer she noticed he was wearing something similar to a wife beater with lots of grease stains on it. Could he not afford rags, for fucks' sake? He was also wearing what looked like incredibly well tailored and expensive dress pants. The idea of those pants being ruined in a garage or in the name of science made her flinch. Talk about wasting money.

"You can say syllables, but not Lewis?" She asked as she tugged him quickly into her apartment.

"I'm a man of many talents. Thanks for inviting me over." He said as he took in the small room with a disgruntled look.

"I didn't invite you over." She snapped as she closed the door behind him. "And it's three in the morning. I'm tired, you're drunk, so can you just tell me what you want. Or why you thought it would be a fantastic idea to bang on my door at this time of the morning? Or what is the meaning of Life the Universe and Everything? "

"Alcohol?"

"What?"

"I'd say the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything is alcohol. Or science. Or scientifically made alcohol." Howard brought the bottle to his lips and took a long sip. When he was done he held the bottle out to Darcy. She took it, but mostly as a precaution against him drinking more.

"Uh huh"

Without the bottle to entertain him, Howard seemed to think it was acceptable to wander around her flat and poke at her meagre belongings with disinterest. Since she didn't own much and she'd probably do the same if she was drunk and she really didn't give a shit to be honest, she let him meander around the small room. This kept his attention for less than two minutes before he made his way over to her bed. Finally he plopped down on the edge of her messy but still warm and cozy cocoon of blankets and mattress.

"How's the arm?" Howard asked after a few moments of playing 'shifty eye contact and awkward silences'. "And the rest of your body?" he continued as he made a vague up and down hand movement in her direction.

"It's going to be scarred. My arm that is. Probably. My throat's feeling better finally. First week or two there in the hospital I was really worried about it."

"Peggy contacted me as soon as she could after it happened."

"Ok…? That was nice of her? I guess?"

"I wanted to get back here sooner. To see you. But things happened."

Darcy stood there confused. It was way too early in the morning for these types of conversations. She couldn't quite seem to follow the exact track Howard was going with here.

"I didn't expect you to come back? For me that is? I mean you live here and work here so I'd assumed you'd you know come back for shit like that but. Um, you were off doing whatever the hell it was you were doing. Business I guess. Do you always randomly drop everything and come back for hospitalized employees?"

Howard just blinked at her in a way that could only be described as stupidly.

"I tend to go to extreme lengths for the few I consider my friends, Lewis."

Now it was Darcy's turn to blink stupidly.

"I'm your friend?"

"Yes?" he answered.

"You seem unsure." Stated Darcy.

"Well I've been informed by people much better at this than I, that friendship is a two way street, and tends to need two people to actually meet the definition in the broadest sense.

"Oh. Right. Because millionaires always make friends with women twenty years younger than them." Darcy thought for a second about what she had just said. "Scratch that. Millionaires always 'make friends with women twenty years younger than them.' Especially when they are good looking. And easy. Can I have some of this scotch?" anything to shut herself up.

"It's not like that. And yes, help yourself…" she had already taken a too large swig, and her face was scrunched up in an effort to swallow.

"Right, I'm supposed to believe that." Darcy replied once she had managed to get the drink down.

Deciding that more booze was not in the cards for herself this morning and she needed any excuse to avoid Howard's searching gaze, she moved over to the small sink and poured them both cups of water.

"I know it's not an ideal situation by any means. You technically are my employee. And you probably feel like you are entirely in over your head. And yes, if you continue to spend time with me in public people will say absolutely disgusting things about you. They won't give a shit if what they say is true or not. Even if the company we were keeping was completely platonic."

Darcy handed him one of the cups of water and sat down on the bed next to him. They sat side by side in silence again.

"So this friendship of ours is completely platonic then?"

"This friendship is literally anything you want it to be Darcy."

"Anything?"

"Yes."