clarahow

The goddess stands on the cliff's edge, gazing fondly at the stars.

Oh, the things Darcy did for Jane.

"So, how's space?" Darcy asks awkwardly, remembering that Thor had laughed when she'd asked him. She, unlike Jane's hunk of mancandy, actually smiles.

"Space is..fine," Sif grins, looking back at her from the edge of the cliff, and Darcy climbs onto the hood of the car rather than trying to stand near her. That counted as accompanying her, right? Well, it'd better.

"Have you been?" Sif asks, and Darcy startles.

"Hmm?"

"To space, to Asgard, have you been?"

"Oh, no, I'm just an intern."

Sif chuckles.

"Perhaps you should, someday..."

Darcy'd curled up on the couch, but she wakes up on the floor, frighteningly close to Jane's half-finished attempt at a Lego Asgard; then, she realizes that she's hearing the clack of computer keys.

Jesus frickin' Christ, she sighs.

Jane doesn't even hear her start the coffeepot, but she still pulls out two mugs.

According to the stove, it's 12:13am.

Darcy groans, and shoves the second mug into Jane's face.

"You realize it's past midnight, right? We've been working since 6am yesterday," she grumbles.

"Correction, Darcy: I've been working. You've been napping."

Jane accepts the coffee with a yawn.

It starts when Nat insists on learning sign language.

What's one more language? she attests, and she moves back in, not realizing how acutely she'd missed the kids. She wills the ache away - but she doesn't get away with it.

Nat's so close to Clint and Laura both, she's unsurprised when they personally inform her they're hoping to conceive again, but they're all surprised when she begins crying, and then she needs to tell them how she'd had the chance of ever holding her own child stolen from her.

"No," Laura asserts, holding her tightly. "These children are yours, too."

"Fucking Americans," the redhead growls, frowning as though her life depended on it; Peggy's impressed she's cursing in English - small steps.

"It will become easier, Natasha."

"Yes, easier, of course."

"I hope your sarcasm betters along with your English," Peggy says, closing the file Natasha's been slaving over and heading from the conference room.

"Coffee break," Peggy clarifies.

Natasha follows; "I've long known English."

"As have I, but in the colonies, the English is different. Welcome to America, Miss Romanoff."

"And you stay, home only memory."

"Not the best of memories, nor of homes. Sugar?"

"Pozhaluista, Agent Carter," Natasha nods.

It's at the Con that she and Wanda bond the most.

Jane hadn't been interested in attending, and met up with Betty Ross for coffee instead, so they were free to wander and fangirl with abandon.

In the least surprising turn of events maybe ever, Wanda is the greatest Scarlet Witch cosplayer on Earth. She's also not opposed to making faces in photo booths or indulging interests in some "eccentric" fandoms.

Darcy might've sworn she'd already seen the weirdest she would, but there's no disappointment in being wrong - not when Wanda can play entire Stark Trek sequences in their heads.