Chapter 2
Darcy wasn’t one to let mysteries go unsolved. Sure, she’d promised Coulson she’d back off, but that lasted about as long as a cupcake at a SHIELD potluck. The man had died, yet here he was, strutting around like a living, breathing enigma. She had to know more.
That night, armed with her laptop, a bag of gummy bears, and a playlist titled “Snooping Jams”, Darcy settled into her room to dig deeper. Her previous foray into SHIELD’s classified files had only scratched the surface. This time, she was going full hacker mode—okay, maybe “hacker mode” was a bit generous. More like “clicking stuff until something worked.”
An hour in, she hit gold: Project T.A.H.I.T.I.
The file was extensive, detailing an experimental programme designed to revive fallen agents. Alien technology, memory implantation, and side effects that read like the plot of a bad sci-fi movie.
“Holy crap,” Darcy whispered, scrolling through the grim details. “This is some Frankenstein-level nonsense.”
Her gut twisted. Coulson had gone through hell—literally brought back to life by something SHIELD barely understood. No wonder he was so buttoned-up all the time. He probably felt like a walking science project.
Before she could dive deeper, her laptop screen suddenly went black.
“Uh-oh.”
The next thing she knew, a voice crackled through her comms. “Darcy Lewis, this is Director Coulson. I think we need to have another chat.”
Her stomach dropped. “You could’ve just texted, y’know.”
“Meet me in my office. Now.”
---
When Darcy arrived, Coulson was seated behind his desk, the very picture of calm authority. But the way he tapped his pen against the desk betrayed his irritation.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he said, motioning for her to sit.
“I’m like a cat,” she quipped, sliding into the chair. “Curiosity is kind of my thing.”
Coulson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to poke around in classified files?”
“I wasn’t ‘poking.’ I was... educating myself.”
“Educating yourself on something that could get you killed.” His tone sharpened, and for the first time, Darcy saw a flash of real anger.
She faltered. “Look, I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to stumble across details about a project that nearly destroyed me? That’s what you didn’t mean to do?”
The room went silent. Darcy swallowed hard, guilt creeping in. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
Coulson leaned back in his chair, his anger softening into something more tired. “I get it, Darcy. You’re curious, you’re smart, and you’ve got a knack for digging where others don’t. But this?” He gestured vaguely, as if encompassing the weight of Project T.A.H.I.T.I. “This isn’t something you want to carry.”
Darcy stared at him for a long moment. “You carry it,” she said softly.
His gaze met hers, and for once, there was no shield (pun intended) between them.
“I don’t have a choice,” he admitted.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have to.”
---
From that day forward, Darcy started seeing Coulson differently. Beneath the sharp suits and calm demeanour was a man trying to hold himself together after being torn apart—literally and figuratively.
But Coulson also started seeing Darcy differently. Her sass wasn’t just a defence mechanism; it was her way of pushing back against a world that often seemed too big and too cruel. And for some reason, her irreverent humour was exactly what he needed.
Darcy wasn’t sure when the line between “colleague” and “something more” blurred. Maybe it was the late-night stakeouts where they swapped ridiculous stories. Or the way Coulson always made sure she got her coffee before morning briefings. Or how he trusted her—really trusted her—in a way no one else ever had.
And then there was the mission in Prague.
They’d been cornered in an abandoned warehouse, cut off from the rest of the team. Darcy, armed with little more than a taser and her wits, had managed to distract their pursuers long enough for Coulson to take them out.
When the dust settled, Coulson turned to her, breathing hard. “That was reckless.”
“You’re welcome,” she shot back, grinning.
He shook his head, but there was no mistaking the fondness in his eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it.”
To her surprise, he didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Darcy, you’re... you’re more important to me than I realised.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m too valuable to lose and then go all broody and self-sacrificing?”
“Not this time,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This time, I’m just going to say thank you. For reminding me what it’s like to feel alive.”
And then, before she could overthink it, he kissed her.
Darcy, for once, was speechless. But as she melted into the kiss, she realised one thing:
Life at SHIELD had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.