Chapter 1
Darcy Lewis had always believed in the sanctity of coffee breaks. Between dealing with interdimensional crises, cosmic entities, and the occasional Asgardian with anger issues, it was the one ritual she refused to sacrifice. So when Phil Coulson, impeccably dressed and unreasonably calm, plopped into the seat across from her in the SHIELD cafeteria, Darcy’s carefully planned coffee moment was disrupted.
“Darcy Lewis,” Coulson said, his voice smooth as ever. “We need to talk.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow, taking an exaggerated sip of her coffee. “Unless it’s about getting me a pay raise, I’m not interested.”
A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “This isn’t about money. It’s about your... extracurricular activities.”
Darcy froze mid-sip. Was this about the hacked SHIELD security footage she’d accidentally downloaded while trying to stream The Great British Bake Off? In her defence, SHIELD's firewalls were surprisingly weak in the face of a determined snack enthusiast.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Darcy replied, attempting to look as innocent as a kitten.
Coulson leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “Let’s not play games. You’ve been accessing classified files. The kind of files that could get someone—hypothetically speaking—reassigned to guard a decommissioned Helicarrier in the middle of the Pacific.”
“Okay, first of all,” Darcy said, setting her mug down with a dramatic clink, “that Helicarrier gig sounds amazing. Imagine the tan I could get.”
Coulson just stared, deadpan. “Darcy.”
She sighed, deflating. “Fine. Maybe I was... curious. You can’t work for SHIELD and not want to know what’s behind door number three.”
“And what did you find?” His tone was gentle, but there was steel underneath it.
Darcy hesitated. She hadn’t expected to get this far, let alone have to explain herself to the most unflappable man in SHIELD. “A file on a certain unkillable SHIELD agent who’s supposed to be dead,” she admitted, biting her lip.
Coulson’s smile faltered, just for a second, but it was enough for Darcy to see.
“I knew it,” she whispered, leaning forward. “You’re the poster boy for SHIELD secrets, but even you can’t fake that much paperwork. What happened, Coulson? Alien tech? Super-serum? Or are you a vampire? Oh my god, you’re a vampire, aren’t you?”
“I’m not a vampire,” he said, a touch too quickly.
“Sounds like something a vampire would say.”
Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about “rookie agents” and “unofficial liabilities.”
Darcy grinned. “Relax, Director Broody. Your secret’s safe with me. On one condition.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You’re blackmailing me now?”
“Not blackmail,” she corrected. “I just think you could use someone to keep things interesting around here. You need my sass, Coulson. Admit it.”
For a long moment, Coulson said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, to her surprise, he chuckled—a low, warm sound that made Darcy’s cheeks heat up unexpectedly.
“Fine,” he said, standing and smoothing his suit. “But if I find you snooping around classified files again, you’ll wish I was a vampire.”
Darcy watched him walk away, a smirk playing on her lips. She didn’t know what had brought Phil Coulson back from the dead, but one thing was clear—this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.
And honestly? She wouldn’t have it any other way.