Once Jane's pregnancy bombshell was dropped, life returned to normal – or what passed for their normal – surprisingly quickly. A month passed: a month of Sunday family dinners, morning workouts, coffee runs, SHIELD intel training, PopTart searches, nights bartending, subtly flirting with Steve, and doctor's visits. A month of trying to juggle all her separate jobs and lives and to keep one from finding out about the other.

Darcy had a strict policy about her jobs: never shall the three overlap. If any of the Avengers were at SHIELD headquarters, she made sure to make herself scarce. Agent Hill was surprisingly understanding at Darcy's myriad of shitty excuses as to why she was late or missing from training. If any junior SHIELD agents were at Stark Tower (very rare, but it occasionally happened), she hid in her room until Jarvis gave her the OK. She made sure to always leave for GRL fully covered, that way no one could see whatever scandalous outfit she had on for work. Somehow, she managed to do all this and still survive on roughly four hours of sleep each night.

But Darcy was tired of juggling. She was tired of keeping secrets from people she considered to be her friends – her family. She was tired of acting oblivious to where Clint and Natasha and sometimes the whole team had been sent off to. She was tired of pretending to not care when the Avengers assembled for a mission and she was excluded. She was tired of everyone seeing her as just this silly girl who was only good for getting coffee or making an inappropriate joke. Darcy had never been good at keeping secrets, and these were starting to wear the normally happy girl down. She was afraid that one day she was going to blow up and tell everyone that yeah, she worked for SHIELD too, so she deserved to know all the rough stuff from missions they didn't tell her (but that she found out about anyways when she filed their reports).

She just never imagined that when she blew up, it would be on such an epic, Mt. Etna scale.

Darcy woke up Saturday morning to silence. That was weird in and of itself; with this many people living in one space, even a space as big as Stark Tower, there was always some sort of background noise going on. But Darcy had fallen asleep in the lab. Thor was on a quick trip to Asgard, and Jane had been impossible to drag away from her research. So Darcy had given up and trying to move her and had settled in for a quick nap on the ratty couch in the lab.

That had been seven hours ago. Darcy stretched and looked at her phone. It was 8 am, which, in her opinion, was way too early to be awake on a Saturday morning. As she glanced around, she noticed that neither Jane nor Erik were in the lab. "Jarvis?" she asked the ceiling.

"Yes, Miss Lewis?" his impeccable British accent asked.

"Did Jane make it safely back to her bed?"

"She did not, Miss Lewis."

"Then where the hell is she? Her sleep patterns must be hell on the baby," Jane said, starting to get concerned.

"I'm not at liberty to say, Miss Lewis."

"Are you shitting me, Jarvis? My top priority in life is that Jane doesn't kill herself by neglecting her own wellbeing for science. Especially now that she's prego. So you either tell me where she is or I will hack into Tony's mainframe and make you sound like a redneck."

"I-I believe that they are in the corporate meeting room," Jarvis said, stuttering.

Darcy strode down the hallway that led to the meeting room, her oversized tote slapping against her side. As she approached the open doorway, she could hear voices raised in heated argument.

"Stark, we need a plan before we go into his lair, as you call it." That would be Steve – or rather, Captain America, as he was using his official bossman voice. This must be an official Avengers meeting. But why would Jane be there?

"I agree with Cap. Shooting first and asking questions later might cause damage to any possible chance we have at recovering the information." That was Black Widow.

"That bastard hacked into my research!" she could hear Jane wail.

"Tony, I would hate for anything to happen to you. You're not a cowboy, going in with guns blazing. Listen to Cap." That was Pepper, trying to soothe Tony's wounded ego.

"He calls himself Dr. Doom. Overcompensation much?" Tony asked in a snarky tone.

Darcy dug through the dossiers she'd brought back as homework from SHIELD. No surprise, she had the file on the villain they were discussing.

Erik added, "We can't tell Darcy what happened. She'd want to Tase him herself for…"

Darcy sauntered into the room, her temper well past pissed off and venturing dangerously in Hulk-esque rage territory. "Can't tell Darcy what?" she asked, sickly sweet. As everyone turned and stared at her, she continued. "Can't tell Darcy about your super secret boy band meeting? Can't tell Darcy about Dr. Doom, aka Victor von Doom, formerly of Latveria, currently the number one foe of the oh-so-Fantastic Four? Can't tell Darcy about the fucking mission your about to go on? Can't tell Darcy WHAT?!" Darcy said, her voice rising in volume on each sentence until she all but yelled the last sentence.

At the silence that echoed across the meeting room, Darcy threw Dr. Doom's file across the table. "Too late, assbutts. I already know all about your newest mission," she said, spitting out the last word. "Surprise! I work for SHIELD too, ya know – and not just as your fucking babysitter. I'm the one who puts together most of your fucking mission dossiers, and I do a damn good job at it. Clint?" she said, pointing at the archer, "I'm the one who found out about your mark in Monaco's fetish. Bet that came in handy, didn't it? And Natasha," she added, swiveling to face her, "I'm the one who came up with that poison necklace for your assignment in South Africa. You're fucking welcome."

She stood at the head of the meeting table, staring down her roommates – the people she thought she trusted. "I personally put together all the fucking files that deal with the Avengers. I know more about each and every goddamn mission you go on than you probably do. Yet you all continue to treat as if I'm some sort of idiot kid sister, who will fall apart at the first sign of trouble. Well guess what, douchebags? I've gone through more shit in my life than you can even imagine. I currently work three fucking jobs, yet I still have time to cook you guys fucking dinner every Sunday and to make sure that you're taken care of. I may not know how to kill a man seven different ways with my bare hands, but that doesn't mean that I can't take care of myself. I may look and act like a fucking joke, but did it ever occur to any of you cocksucking half-wits that it was a cover? That I was just trying to keep out all the hurt that my life has been? And just because I'm not fucking one of the super team – no offense guys," she added towards Jane and Pepper, "doesn't mean that I don't worry until you all get home." She said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Darcy stared straight ahead, trying not to reveal all her secrets. "I have been excluded and unwanted and forgotten about my whole life – until I met you guys." She said in a quiet voice. The rest of the team was so silent, she could practically hear the clock ticking on the wall. "I thought we were a family, and families don't keep secrets from one another," she said, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek.

Frustrated at her deviation from anger, Darcy swiped that single tear away. "Well you know what, fuck you guys and the Helicarrier you came in on. Let's see how well you manage to survive without my help."

As she turned to leave the room, Tony stood up and tried to stop her. "Darcy, wait –"

"Move it, Stark."

He stood in place. Darcy rammed violently into him, using her shoulders as Volstagg had taught her. As he stumbled back, Darcy held her head high and walked out the door. Damned if she was going to look back.

Darcy reached the Stark Industries garage fairly quickly. She knew where all the keys were kept, so she snagged a set at random and set off the alarm, looking for the car it belonged to.

Fittingly, it was the Ferrari. Darcy smiled to herself – a wild, feral smile that spoke of dark alleyways and hidden knives. In her other hand, she tossed a wallet up in the air, and then caught it. Elvira had it right, she thought to herself. Revenge is better than Christmas. Tony Stark was going to pay for his attempt to stop her – literally. Darcy picked his pocket when she bumped into him, and had no qualms about using his credit cards to escape.

She slid into the Ferrari, tossing her tote on the passenger seat. The crimson of the car matched the blood red shade on her lips. As she started the car, she could hear someone coming out of the elevator, attempting to stop her. With a squeal of tires, she sped out the door, leaving the Avengers, jaws gaping, behind her.

Darcy Lewis's List of Reasons Why She Shouldn't Go Back to Stark Tower (made while drunk)
1. Tony Stark was an attention whore
2. Pepper Potts was an idiot to put up with him
3. Bruce Banner was scaredy-cat
4. Natasha Romanoff was unfriendly
5. Clint Barton was way too old to be ogling her ass
6. Steve Rogers was oblivious to her charms (aka her tits)
7. Thor was too damn loud
8. Erik Selvig was too serious
9. Jane Foster was overly hormonal
10. Jarvis was a tattle-tale
11. Director Fury was a bitch
12. Agent Hill has too good of a poker face

Somehow, Darcy ended up in D.C. So she checked into a five star hotel (thank you, Stark Industries credit card) and ordered a bottle of Jack Daniel's to be sent up to her room. As she drank straight from the bottle, she made a list of reasons why she hated the team, and another list of reasons why should quit, and another of why she should become a full-time SHIELD agent.

The next morning (or rather, afternoon), Darcy woke to someone knocking firmly on her door. She stumbled out of bed and opened it. To her surprise, someone she thought was dead stood on the other side. "Hello Miss Lewis. May I come in?"

Silently, eyes wide, Darcy opened the door all the way and gestured, inviting Agent Coulson in. They had briefly met in New Mexico, so Darcy knew who he was. She had heard of his death at Loki's hands after she and Jane had moved into Stark Tower. Yet here he was, living and breathing, and…not wearing a suit? As he handed her a coffee, he said, "Miss Lewis, we having a proposition for you. Would you care to sit down and discuss it?"

Darcy gratefully took the coffee. "By 'we', I assume you mean SHIELD?" she asked.

Agent Coulson nodded. "SHIELD needs someone to act as a handler for the Avengers during non-combatant times. Since you have proven adept in your interactions with Thor, Dr. Banner, and Mr. Stark, your name has been considered for the position."

"What exactly would that entail?" Darcy asked, curious.

"You would be acting as the liaison between SHIELD and the Avengers. You would be responsible for directing the flow of information to the appropriate members of the team. You would also be responsible for non-mandated or non-combatant public appearances by any and all members of the team."

"So, basically…." Darcy said, interpreting the agent's semi-formal words, "I would continue doing my intel work for SHIELD, but with a focus on sorting stuff for the team, and I would be responsible for Thor not shattering coffee cups in public and Tony not offending anyone too much when the paparazzi question him?" At Coulson's nod, she added "Would I get a higher security clearance?"

A quick grin flashed across his face, before being replaced by his normal stoic expression. "Let's just say you would no longer be hacking in to anything you needed access to."

Darcy held out her hand. "I accept."

Darcy spent the rest of the afternoon going over forms and paperwork with Phil (as he had asked her to call him) before they ordered room service and watched a Supernanny marathon. Turns out Phil really liked bad reality TV. Phil told her what really happened after his apparent death. He promised that he would eventually return to SHIELD, but he was enjoying his vacation too much to make it anytime soon.

On Monday, Darcy woke up and checked out of the hotel room. Running away was fun, but a girl only had so many spare outfits in her Mary Poppins bag. But…Darcy wasn't ready to face the carnage she had ensued back at the Tower.

So she spent the day wondering around the Smithsonian, which was one of her favorite places in the entire world. As she wondered through exhibits, she thought about what to say – how to apologize – to everyone in the Tower.

Eventually, though, the museum closed. Darcy lugged her bag of apology gifts to the car, then set the GPS for New York. It would be an all night drive, but Darcy didn't mind. She was ready to be home.