Sol 6 (1)
Darcy was having a good morning. The barista at her coffee shop - the one she went by every morning on her way to work - had given her extra caramel sauce with her macchiato, the sky was blue, and her lipstick, red, as always, was on point. Even the gruff security guards at Avengers Tower couldn’t get her down.
“If you’d step this way, please,” Itchy said, gesturing her through the metal detector - well, the thing that looked like a metal detector. Knowing Tony, the metal detector could not only detect all types of metal, but did a few better than the TSA in terms of actual security.
Perks of private industry, Darcy thought sardonically. She handed over her purse and laptop bag, to Itchy’s partner Twitchy, who was equally big, dour, and wearing the same atrociously cut suit. Twitchy ran her bags through the scanner, as he did, every morning, and Twitchy waited with her, as if she was about to go anywhere without her phone or her laptop. They had her msuic! And the last time I let my iPod out of my possession, Barton kidnapped it in the name of SHIELD. So, please and no thank you. So Darcy sipped the last of her now-cooling macchiato and waited for Twitchy to decide that there wasn’t anything too problematic in her bags.
“Here you go, ma’am,” Twitchy said, passing her back her bags. “Have a good day.”
“You too,” Darcy said automatically, hefting the laptop bag over one shoulder and digging around in her purse to retrieve her phone. Never hurts to be polite.
Three hours later, and Darcy’s patience was hanging on by a thread.
“No, Tony, you can’t say that the new Speaker of the House is an idiot on national TV,” she said slowly.
“Even if he is one?” Tony asked, flashing her the smile he used to charm people. Today, though, Darcy was immune. She scowled at him.
“Even then.” She sighed. “Politicians are the only people these days who still don’t trust the Avengers. They’re the people who aren’t on social media, who listen to traditional news sources above all else, and who don’t trust anything new until it’s been around at least ten years.”
“So they love Cap.” Tony’s face matched hers for sourness. He looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon.
“Even though they shouldn’t,” Darcy agreed. “You know he’s not as patriotic and prudish as he seems.”
Tony sighed. “I know.” Then he brightened. “But can’t I at least needle that asshole a little bit? You know what he does when his wife’s at the spa?”
“No, I don’t.” It’s like dealing with a five year old. “And I don’t want to.” Darcy waved her hand. “I’m sorry, Tony, but this is important. If we play nice with the Speaker, then maybe next time you save the world, Congress won’t try and pass an idiotic bill that tries to stop you. Again.”
“No guarantee?”
“You know I can’t do that,” Darcy sighed. “But I can guarantee that if you go in and piss him off, the next time you have to cause property damage - for the greater good, I know that - Congress will be debating the Superhero Power Act, part 2. And then you can go to T’Challa and see about pulling your ass out of the fire. Mmkay?”
Tony sighed, far louder than she had. “I hear and obey, oh fearless media maven,” he said. “You know the Great and Powerful Kittycat doesn’t like me much.”
“Maybe because you call him the Great and Powerful Kittycat,” Darcy snarked. “Maybe I’ll tell him, the next time he comes to visit.”
“You won’t,” Tony predicted. “Because if you do, I’ll tell Cap all of the various nicknames you and Foster have come up for him.”
“Tony!”
“Darcy!”
“Miss Lewis?” JARVIS asked, and if the AI could sound cautious, he would have.
“Yeah, J?”
“There’s a Mr. Kapoor on the line for you.”
“Venkat?” Darcy said, confused. Then her stomach shot through the floor all the way from the 42 floor to ground level. “Did he say what he wanted?” Her hand went to the necklace she was wearing, fingering the chain absently.
“Just to speak with you - apparently it’s urgent.”
“Ok,” Darcy said vacantly. “Tell him I’ll be online as soon as I get back to the office - I’m leaving now.”
“Lewis?” Tony sounded confused, maybe worried, but Darcy didn’t have time for him just then.
“Later, Tony,” she said. “Later.”