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As it turns out, her old office was completely destroyed by the alien attack a week ago.
Unemployment rates have exploded pretty much overnight thanks to those meddling aliens (except for construction workers and architects, who are now buried under mountains of work), and Darcy is just one of the many who found themselves out of a job after the events of the previous Monday. It’s been a week since then, and after returning from going AWOL, Jane has managed to pull some strings and get Darcy involved in SHIELD as her assistant. Darcy has since rewarded her with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a rewatch of Jane’s Mythbusters episode of choice.
Another part of Jane's reward was Darcy's concerted effort to not pry into what Darcy is sure was time spent with Thor.
Jane’s been morose ever since mysteriously (see: SHIELD being creepy and secretive) vanishing on Sunday and reappearing Thursday night, and Darcy is 99.99999% sure it has to do with Thor. Scratch that, she’s 100% sure. The big lug was on the news, after all, and there’s no way he’d come to New York and zap some aliens without also trying to get in contact with Jane.
Which brings Darcy back to another thing that’s been bugging her lately—Hulk. He’s been on the news, too, although he doesn’t get nearly as much coverage as the other members of “The Avengers” (again, see: SHIELD being creepy and secretive. And also apparently into superheroes?). At some point during the past week, probably while drunk, Darcy vaguely recalls relating her encounter with Hulk to Jane. She also thinks she might remember Jane promising to sic Thor and science on Hulk if he ever hurts Darcy, which means Darcy was either A) so drunk she hallucinated, which is not unheard of for her, or B) successful in getting Jane completely wasted. Either way, they clearly need to play Disney drinking games more often.
There is, of course, no time like the present, so Darcy heads home early on Tuesday—after ensuring Jane will remember to come home at a reasonable hour as well—to set up Drunk Disney Night Part Two. The fridge is stocked with plenty of alcohol in the form of vodka and beer, Darcy bought margarita ingredients on the way home, Hercules is ready and waiting in the Netflix queue, and it’s shaping up to be a pretty successful evening. Darcy’s even managed to get some cookies going, and she’s probably eaten half the cookie dough by the time the first batch is done. But it is really, really not her fault. The smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies can and does destroy even the strongest of wills.
A lesser-known aspect of the fresh-cookie smell is that it also attracts stray Hulks. Or, at least, Darcy can only assume so, because she’s just taken the first tray out of the oven when Hulk’s big green face pops up in her window.
Unaccustomed as she is to giant green men pressing their faces against her windows, Darcy gives a rather undignified shriek and jumps several feet in the air. Hulk reels back, eyes wide. Once Darcy’s heartbeat has returned to a normal speed, she notices he looks…hurt? Is that hurt? She’s not sure her usual judgment of facial expressions can be applied to Hulks, but in the case that they can, that is most definitely hurt.
She steps closer to the window, and Hulk shies away on the fire escape, wearing an expression which might be considered guarded on an average human face. Darcy tells herself it was an involuntary reaction and swallows the growing lump in her throat. Hulk looks like a wounded animal, and Darcy’s always had a weakness for strays.
“Hey, big guy,” she says, opening the window. Hulk is as far away from her as is physically possible without leaving the fire escape. It’s creaking dangerously beneath him, and Darcy tells herself it’s silly to worry about a muscled behemoth falling a few stories. He’d fallen several dozen while fighting off aliens, and hadn’t even been winded. “Sorry I screamed.”
“Darcy scared of Hulk,” he rumbles, staring at her in a way that makes her want to ruffle his hair and that is an extremely inappropriate thought to be having right now Darcy. STOP.
“No, I wasn’t scared, I swear,” Darcy says quickly, before her brain can get away from her again. “Just surprised. I mean, it isn’t every day I see a Hulk outside my window.” She smiles, and his shoulders relax a fraction of an inch.
“Hulk come to see Darcy.”
Darcy nods. “Yep, you sure did. And I’m glad you did.” She gives him her biggest, brightest smile, and the rest of the tension leaves his massive body. It’s a lot of tension. “Hey, you actually stopped by at the perfect time. I’ve got a batch of cookies fresh out of the oven, and I need someone to help me test them.” The word test makes his eyebrows draw together, and the corners of his mouth pull down. Darcy backtracks. “I mean, try them out. You know. Taste them to make sure they aren’t nasty or poisoned.”
Hulk still doesn’t look too eager.
Darcy sighs. “I made cookies. Do you want some? They’re chocolate chip. And they’re not poisoned.” His expression clears, and he makes a grunting sound that Darcy takes for assent. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Hulk stay.”
“Righty-o. I’ll get the cookies.”
Turns out giant green dudes really like chocolate chip cookies. Like, a lot. Darcy watches with amusement as Hulk eats the entire first batch, except for the last one, which he hesitates on. Her eyebrows shoot for the sky when Hulk picks up the last cookie and hands it to her.
“Pretty soft Darcy eat cookie too.”
And, well, what can you really say to that but “Yes, thank you.”
The cookie, once in her mouth, is heaven.
“Damn, I’m a fucking pastry genius,” Darcy sighs happily around the half-chewed remains of the cookie. She cracks an eye at the Hulk. “Good, huh?”
Hulk bobs his head, still looking straight at Darcy. He doesn’t blink often, and it would be unnerving if Darcy hadn’t gotten used to guys in college doing the same thing. And Hulk isn’t even directing that intense gaze at her boobs. Speaking of, does Hulk even like boobs? Hulk is, er, rather obviously a he, but is he into chicks or dudes? Neither? Both?
Then Darcy realizes she’s working herself into a curious fervor over Hulk’s sexuality, and throws the emergency brakes on her mental train. Because seriously, whatthefuck. Get it together, Darcy.
“Soooo…” Darcy drawls, leaning against the window frame and trying very hard not to cringe at herself. “What does a Hulk do for fun?”
He blinks at her. Blinks again. And again. By the fifth repeat, Darcy is beginning to wonder if she started speaking in Swahili or something.
Then, “Fun?” Hulk asks, and her heart kind of breaks. A lot.
“You know, enjoyable activities?” Another blink. “Stuff that makes you smile?” Hulk’s eyes narrow at that one. Darcy smiles at him, relieved that she might be getting somewhere.
“Hulk smash,” he grins, raising a fist, and Darcy leaps forward to lay her own hand over his fist.
“Okay, yeah, that’s great, but there’s nothing to smash here.” Hulk frowns. “I live here, and if you smash anything here I’m going to be homeless, and really—uh, not happy.”
“Hulk no smash Darcy home,” he says seriously, and Darcy gives him a relieved smile.
“Great.” Darcy returns his gaze for another second or two before swinging her attention back into the apartment. The clock over the stove reads nine o’clock, and there’s still no sign of Jane.
“Great,” Darcy mutters again, under her breath. She glances back at her giant green visitor. “Hey, um, Hulk? My friend was supposed to come home a while ago, but I think she’s still at work. Could you give me a lift over there?”
“Where Darcy friend?”
“It’s a lab, not far from here. I’ll give you directions, okay?”
Hulk nods, and Darcy barely has time to turn off the kitchen lights and close the window behind her before Hulk takes her request literally and lifts her off her feet, hooking one big hand under her knees to cradle her in a reclining position against his chest. Darcy reflexively throws her arms as far around him as they’ll go, and holds on tight as Hulk ascends to the top of the fire escape and onto the roof. She can feel his muscles bunching and shifting under her arms and hands—hell, even under her cheek—and he’s really, really warm. It’s like curling up against a big, warm rock. That moves. And is green. And smells like chocolate chip cookies.
Darcy is 99.9999% sure that the flip-flopping, butterfly-ish feeling in her stomach is just anxiety over the high-velocity jump that’s about to happen. That leaves 0.0001% for another possibility that she really doesn’t want to deal with. She concentrates instead on the feeling of the cool breeze against her face.
All in all, it’s been a pretty good Tuesday so far, and Drunk Disney Night Part Two hasn’t even gotten underway yet.