Darcy Gets Dr. Who'D

October 11, 2014: Darcy's in medical, and Fitz's lab is next door. This isn't a catastrophe waiting to happen at all.

The Triskelion - New York City

The Headquarters, Armory and Fortress of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics division is, for the most part, an unassailable tower in the midst of the diplomatic sprawl that is Midtown East. The primary intelligence clearing houses and most of SHIELD's senior leadership are all housed hear, along with a veritable army of agents and staff to keep the place running, the world spinning and the weirdness at bay.



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Mood Music:

It was predawn when Junior Agent Lewis was brought into Medical. Unconscious. In a red and black school girl outfit and two high ponytails on the sides of her head.

Her vitals were the unsteady of a hallucinagenic narcotic, and a quick scan spoke of a concussion caused by head trama.

SHIELD medical teams got her withs aline to flush her system of the toxin and put her on medical leave for at least two days. Not that she knows this, just it's noted on the file on the clipboard at the foot of her bed.

Darcy mumbles something about unbirthdays as she starts to regain consciousness some time after 8am.


It's not uncommon at all for Leopold Fitz to be in his pristine lab, which adjorns the medical bay that so often plays home to a working Simmons. Yes, even in weekends, Fitz is hard at work, for he's got weapons to finish and tech to get cleared. From the lab next door, there comes some rummaging, a crashing sound, and suddenly, a bout of vulgarity.

"Bloody… son of a… impossible pile of… yes, I know the microfracture will cause an imbalance in the dendrotoxin dispersal point, you worthless lub of circuitry!!"

Fitz comes dashing into the medical lab, clearly looking for Simmons. What he finds, however, causes him to freeze in his tracks. He stares at Darcy for a few moments, blinking owlishly at her extremely unorthodox manner of dress. Mouth hangs ajar for a few moments while he scratches his head, then closes when he comes over to snatch up her clipboard. "Oh, that's just great," he mutters under his breath. "Another SHIELD agent on drugs. I swear, the bar's being lowered every day around here."


The shouting! Oh, the shouting. Darcy whimpers as she pushes herself to sitting.

"I swear… I'll never drink that much again," she says to Fitz as he moves over to stare at her chart. She reaches up to pull out the pony tails.

"I'm not on drugs… Am I? Fuck…"


"According to this, yes." Fitz holds up the clipboard indicatively, then lets it flop back against her cot with the sound of a rattling chain and clapping clipboard. "Really, I understand the difficulties of being a field agent, but do you people always drink like bloody Glasgwegians when you're out doing undercover stuff?" He walks over to a cabinet, unlocking it with his thumbprint and retrieving a bottle of water before securing it again.


"drink like.. what?" Darcy squints HARD at Fitz, wondering if she's haluncinating him speaking English. That was English, right? Wrong?

"What?" she repeats before running her fingers through her hair.


One can't help being Scottish, after all. "Nevermind." Fitz walks back over to Darcy's bed, offering her the bottle of water. "I don't know what these medics have done with you, but if you'd like, I can call for Simmons. She's far better than most of the hacks who run around here and call themselves doctors."

The engineer is still not entirely sure about the patient, given her attire and the facts that are written across her medical chart. Plus, she still seems pretty woozy. He could give her something for that, but it would be entirely inappropriate, and out of his league. "You still with me, here?" he asks, focusing upon Darcy with a dutiful expression. A finger comes up and starts moving back and forth. "Focus on my finger, Agent Lewis."


"Sure. Is he cute too… wait, you said she. I dig that," Darcy says, trying for her usual snark and failing. The water is taken and drunk, a sigh of gratitude drifting free before her green eyes open and…

"Where the hell are my glasses?" Darcy peers at Fitz's finger, and frowns. "Sorry. Can't focus. Blind as Batman."


Is he (she) cute too? That remark goes right over Fitz's head. What doesn't is her admission of bi-sexuality, which… doesn't bother the scientist at all! Cheers for being open and accepting of all people.

Except field agents who do drugs.

Suddenly, Fitz snaps his fingers. "Glasses. That I can do." He reaches over to pat Darcy's shoulder in a condescending way. "You, sit tight." Then, he dashes off.

A few moments later, Fitz comes back from his neighboring science lab. In his left hand he holds a small, stick-like device, in the other, a sleek pair of glasses, female, with a silver sheen across the lenses and styled to be fitting for hipsters about four years ago with red frames. He holds them up like prizes or something as he walks back toward Darcy's cot.


"And a hair brush!?" Darcy calls after Fitz, not bothered by the pat to the shoulder. Condescending is too hard to spell when recovering from Joker Happy Gas. At least BirdBoy knocked her out befoer she started seeing anything, like red dinosaurs or foot ninjas.

"Having an unhappy Ninja Nanny show up was bad enou- ooh," Darcy has a daffodils moment at the sight of those bright red hipster frames. "Those are awesome! Where'd you get them? Did you pinch my prescription from my file? Does my file even have my prescription? If it does, does it have my bra size? Cause that's be fucked up.. having my eye prescriptuion but not my bra size. I mean, what if you needed to bring me a new bra? I special order these, you know!"


"Sorry, I don't keep hair brushes in my lab." Fitz speaks of this upon his return as if such a thought was deplorable. A dirty, germ-ridden, possibly lice-carrying hair brush in his clean, pristine workspace? Nope. No fucking way.

With a bountiful smirk, Fitz just lets Darcy talk. And talk. And talk. During which, he rests the glasses upon a table (out of reach) and prepares the object in his hand. "This," he explains, holding up the hand-sized, circular device. "Is a retinal mapper. My own design. It will feed your readings into the glasses, also my design, and map the micro-packets of compressed nano-silicone inside the lenses to match your prescription. But you're going to need to sit very, very still." He points the retinal mapper at her face. "If you even budge, and the readings are off, it'll be like…"

He's unable to come up with a quip.

"… looking… through… the wrong prescription."


"What good are you, then?" Darcy blurts out about not having a hair brush, but the words lack bite. She leans toward the glasses, but frowns as they go out of reach. Her green eyes go back to Fitz as he technobabbles about …mapper… micro-packets…

"I do not have silicone!" Darcy snaps, pulling back and defensively craddling her chest. "These girls are au naturale, thank you very much! And what do they have to do with your Harrt Potter, Dr. Who stick thing is beyond me."


"I… wot??" Fitz absolutely stares at Darcy, then down at her breasts. Okay, yes, they… but… suddenly, the poor scientist finds himself stuck between 'what the hell are you talking about' and 'oh my god I just stared at her chest'. Cue stammering!

"But, you, it, I didn't, I mean of course you don't have, not, implants but, I'm not…"

His mouth finally catches up with his brain. "The silicone is in the glasses, you bloody idiot!" he snaps, then immediately backtracks. "I mean, of course you're not an idiot, that's not what I meant. But, anyway. You, sit still while I Doctor Who your face, or I'll go and find some bloody restraints." Beat. "To hold your head still, of course, not…"

Fitz. Settle down.


Darcy laughs. Because this is more amusing that getting Robin AND Fred from Accounting to Blush. Robin just goes all weirdly quiet. Fred's nose bleeds. Fitz? Fitz has some CLASSIC brain to mouth filter explosions!

"Not even going to buy me dinner before Who'ing me? Wow, at least call me tomorrow, okay? And I'm completely into restraints. I'll even ask nicely," she rambles while holding very still as asked. Because getting to say that she got her face Who'd is epic.


The retinal mapper hangs in the air, still pointing at Darcy for a moment, before Fitz bobs it up and down three times, trying to formulate something to say. "Right," he comes up with, suddenly distracting himself from having another brain-to-mouth filter explosion by science. "Okay. Don't move, I'm serious!"

The device comes down, aimed into her left eye. One hand comes out to hold her by the temple, just to make sure she stays still. A blue beam shoots out and scans her eye, surprisingly not blinding her because his devices are awesome like that. "Left eye, check!" He moves on the right. "Aaaaand right eye, finished."

Fitz releases her head and scoots his chair over to snatch up the glasses. "Now, this part is really magical." He presses a few buttons on the mapper, then points it at the glasses. There isn't a sound, but the silver sheen upon the lenses distorts oddly for a second or two, before settling again. "I'm Fitz, by the way." He offers the glasses to her. "Well, Doctor Fitz. Leopold Fitz. Or, really, you can just call me Leo, or Doctor Leo. Or just Fitz, like everyone else."


Darcy opens her mouth, grinning. She has to fight not to laugh, and to hold perfectly still. The humor fades the moment Fitz touches her temple. Her mouth closes with a hiss of an inhale. The blue light isn't as bothersome she she had thought, and she blinks several times when the process is done. Seeing Fitz scoot a chair over and declare something magical has her smiling. It's a soft and pleasant smile, nostalgic and wistful.

"Darcy. I like tacos. Would you rather i cal- whoa, that is awesome," she says as she puts on the glasses and blinks at the suddenly perfect vision. The other prescription was getting old.


"Who doesn't like tacos?" asks Fitz, sounding incredulous at the very prospect of someone turning their nose up at tacos. "I bet even Agent May cracks a smile at a good taco."

When she puts the glasses on and reacts, Fitz is absolutely beaming. He crosses his arms and looks pretty damned proud. "That would be the micro-packets of compressed nano-silicone," he explains. "An electrical signal passes through the lens, forcing the packets to re-shape and bend the light into the perfect prescription. I'll let you keep them until you're able to get a good replacement, but you have to promise me that you won't lose them. It's SHIELD technology, and SHIELD property. Neither of us want to get busted on something like that going missing."


"These are almost as hot at the Red Car. Don't ask. I told him it was a stupid-ass name," Darcy rambles, her smile bright and wide and then she's leaning toward Fitz to toss her arms about his shoulders. A hug AND a kiss on the cheek with her red lipstick… lipstain. it doesn't come off easily.

"I love it when people talk sciency at me," she states as she lets go and finally looks around.

"Yeah, speaking of double-N, you seen her? She busted in on my date to bitch at me for missing training missions that I didn't know I was scheduled for…"


"Who -" Fitz starts, but then he's flushing a red so bright that it almost makes that lipstain go away. Almost. Yeah, he's blushing hard.

A hand comes up to scratch at the back of his head nervously. "Double-N? You mean Agent May?" His eyes go wide, and he glances around in mock conspiracy, before leaning over a bit and whispering, "Don't say it too loud. She'll show up. I swear she's got bat-ears."

Righting himself, Fitz grins at Darcy. "By the way, I seriously doubt Batman is blind. So, what happened to you, anyway? What got you landed here in medical? Your chart doesn't say."


"Fuck. You said her name. A drink says she appears inside of fifteen minutes," Darcy laments as she adjust the glasses on her nose.

"I don't really know, to be honest. I went to Gotham to watch a derby match on my night off, only to get literally picked up by some kid in kevlar, Tuxedo Mask cape and a honest ot god MASK, who thought I was this notoriously evil clown school girl named after those really bad romance novels. I made Robin take me for ice cream on the way home — and he's car is sofa king sexy. Ohmygod, I wanted to strip on his hood, i swear to Jesus! — when Nannypants showed up, bitched at me. And then there was gunfire, a motorcycle through a window, and a puff of smoke as I fell down the rabbit hole."


"Well, not while I'm at work," Fitz reacts. Then, he realizes that he may or may not have just agreed to have a drink. With a girl who almost stripped on this dude Robin's car. His mouth drops open, and the stammering threatens to return.

"I mean, yes. We can have a drink, if you'd like. But I can't, I mean, not while I'm on the clock or doing official SHIELD business because that would be against the rules, and Simmons would never bloody forgive me for it."

He goes silent at Darcy's explanation, his eyes squinting and looking confused as hell. He pinches his nose and mutters, "Thank God I'm not responsible for your debriefing." Because that shit makes no sense at all.


Darcy is silent. FOr a full ten seconds.

"Do I get to fill out an honest to god Form!?"

No one should sound this manically gleeful about filling out SHIELD paperwork.

"Fuck yes! Darcy Lewis has gained a level, bitches!"


Ten seconds of silence. In a room bearing Darcy Lewis and Leopold Fitz. Somewhere, a god is born, and an entire race of mutants rise to power and take over the planet Badonkiss.

Not exactly knowing how to respond to that, Fitz simply makes a fist and offers it for bumping. He simply doesn't have the heart to tell her how grueling and horrible a debriefing with Melinda May can be.


Given that May's Lewis' SO? Yeah. Darcy is blissful.

She bumps Leo's fist with her own, making an explosion sound, then drinks more of the water she was given. "Ah. Thanks, Leo. Best drink of my life, right here. You're a godsend. So. Since I'm here… If you have any office supply request forms, I guess I can take them. I've got a fresh suit in my gymlocker, and I'm dying for a shower, but I need to check email which means going to my broomcloset, so I'll add your forms to the top of my stack because I love you."


Fitz draws his fist back, mouthing the explosion sound and mimicking it with the spreading of his fingers. "I think I'm good, for now. I'm not a doctor, and I can't release you to get back to work, but if you get up and leave this cot, well, I'm not stopping you." He scoots his chair back and stands up, snatching up his retinal mapper. "Guess the restraints will have to wait for another day."

Then, of all things, he winks and gives Darcy a finger-gun, complete with the appropriate snapping sound.


Darcy is about to get up when the line to the IV makes her stop. She groans and plops back down, then smiles up at Leo.

"You're my new favorite and I'm keeping you. Plus, I think Medical has cameras. You'll have to bring the restraints to my place later tonight." She returns the wink, then mimes being shot and drops back to the cot.


Cue stammering. "I was… well only, but, if…" Pull yourself together, Leo!! "That!" He points at the water. "Does not count as our drink!" Then, he's rushing off to exit medical because he's bashful and doesn't want to dig that hole any deeper.

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