If there was one thing Darcy hated, it was being forced to do something. Which is probably why she went to college and studied poli-sci instead of becoming a roadie for her Dad's band and staying at the commune. It's not that she'd hated her childhood, actually she kind of loved it, but she'd learned early on that the moment someone 'strongly suggested' that she do something she usually ran in the opposite direction. Which brings her to her current frame of mind. SHIELD, for what ever reason, had decided that she knew a little bit too much, and had 'potential' whatever that was, and decided instead of putting a bullet in her that they'd give her a job. It was actually a pretty nice job, for just being glorified desk work. There was only one problem, there was a dress code. Well, maybe that was a bit to liberal a phrase to use. She'd basically been told to wear office cloths, black and unassuming, which would have been fine till Coulson's new underling, a stuck up asshole really, had ratted her out for wearing a mauve shirt. Mauve. Seriously, it wasn't even that bright of a shade as far as the spectrum goes, and the little rat ass goes running to Coulson about her breach in dress code. So now here she stood, digging through the recesses of her closet looking for the most office inappropriate garment that she owned. Coming to the back she felt a sadistic little smile cross her face. Oh, she'd show them inappropriate.
Monday mornings at SHIELD were always boring, which was why Tony absolutely hated having to come in for early morning debriefs. Sighing he checked his watch again, feeling more then a little peeved that only five minutes had passed, and Fury was still running late from his important, 'I have to blow off Tony', business. Leaning against the desk outside of his office staring listlessly down the hall he found himself blinking, and then blinking again just to be sure he was seeing things correctly. “Good morning, Mr. Stark!” his hallucination chirped as she sauntered by in a cloud of clicking heels and citrus perfume. Staring after her, mouth agape all he could force himself to do was make a 'huh' sound, and wonder how many unsuspecting New Yorkers she'd managed to blind on her way into the office.
Steve liked to think of himself as someone who didn't make judgments based just on appearance. After all, he knew better then most that the outside didn't always match the inside. That being said, there were just somethings about the modern world, or 'post-modern world' according to Stark, that he would just never understand, no matter how much it was explained to him, or he experienced it himself. All of that being said, he couldn't stop staring. Coulson's secretary, administrator, was happily humming to herself as she moved around the break room making coffee. “Would you like a cup?” Snapping out of his dazed state he slowly blinked a few times. “Coffee?” For the first time he noticed the plain white mug in her hand. Nodding slowly Donna, Darla?, handed him a cup. “It's Darcy, Captain Rogers.” Steve felt a slow blush crawl its way up his neck in embarrassment. He really needed to learn not to say the things he was thinking out loud. She didn't seem at all fazed, instead grabbing the other two cups from the counter she resumed her humming. “Have a nice day!” she called over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. Steve felt himself nod, staring after her. There was one thing he knew for sure, he wasn't going to be forgetting her name again any time soon.
There were a few things that every member of SHIELD knew about the infamous Hawkeye. One, if you couldn't see him, that didn't mean he couldn't see you. Two, never, ever, sneak up on him, ever. Not that anyone had ever been able to achieve that. The third one was the most important, the one every junior agent learned quickly, he never stopped talking once he started. Which is probably why the utter look of shock and silence that suddenly fell over him as he turned the corner was enough to make even Maria Hill stumble in surprise. The fact that he stood there, mouth gaping just slightly was even more disconcerting. “Is she really...” Agent Hill broke off as they continued to stare openly as Coulson's administrator as she flounced between the copy machines. Clint just nodded dumbly, eyes still glued on the young woman. “Do you think Couslon's seen her?” Clint just shrugged watching as the woman, what was her name again?, gave a triumphant fist pump as she managed to get the machine to unjam. A few seconds later, arms laden with papers, she made her way towards them. Neither one really responded to her upbeat 'good afternoon!', instead staring after her as she walked by. As she turned the corner they finally looked at each other, Hill's lifted brow being answered by a shrug from Clint. “Oh, I have to see his face when he finally sees what she's wearing!” Sharing a glance again they both hurried down the hall after where she had disappeared. No one broke regs like this and didn't get one of Coulson' disapproving faces, and like hell if they were going to miss out on this.
Natasha hated paperwork as much as she loved the work that she did, not that she'd ever admit either to another living, breathing human being. Still, everything had to be taken care of, eventually at least, which is what saw her dropping off her monthly reports at Coulson's office. He wasn't in, which wasn't surprising since he usually took his afternoon coffee break around this time, but she really didn't feel like standing around waiting on him either, not when she had a hot bath and a good book waiting for her at home. “Can I help you with something?” Natasha turned and blinked. The young woman's face looked vaguely familiar, Natasha finally recognizing her at the administrator Coulson had brought on board after the New Mexico incident. In all honesty she was more surprised that it had been nearly two years since then and this was the first time Natasha could clearly remember ever paying attention to what she looked like, which was surprising since she always took the effort to notice every last detail about the people around her. She was pretty, in a way, which large, bold facial features that matched her more curvy build. It was her dress that really caught her attention, bold, brazen, and definitely not within the SHIELD office dress code.
Blinking again she collected her thoughts and held out the folder she was holding. “Monthly reports.” she offered needlessly since she was sure the woman was used to seeing them.
“Thanks!” she chirped, moving over to her desk to place the folder in its appropriate spot. “Can I help you with anything else, Agent Romanoff?” She'd been staring, which was slightly out of character for her, but the other woman didn't seem to notice that, instead she seemed more interested in having another task to complete.
“No, thank you, Ms. Lewis.” Natasha had forgotten her name till this moment. Darcy Lewis, 24, graduate from Culver University with a degree in political science, and former intern to Dr. Jane Foster. She also seemed to remember some other gossip, curtsey of Clint, that she had actually tasered Thor upon first meeting him. Admirable. Well, at least her other qualities made up for her obvious lack of fashion sense, or sense at all since she was obviously knowingly breaking regs. Nodding once she turned and walked away, not acknowledging the other woman's 'have a nice evening!'. After that she truly needed that long, hot bath, if only to scrub out the reminder of that particular shade of green from her mind.
Darcy had only been called into Coulson's office twice in the two years she'd worked for SHIELD, once to make notes on an upcoming meeting, and the other after being ratted out the week prior. So she wasn't expecting to be called in ten minutes before her shift was over. Standing awkwardly in front of his desk while Coulson signed some forms the only thing that she could think was that she was being fired. A moment later, as he set aside his pen and looked up with his mouth open Darcy couldn't keep it in any more. “You can't fire me! I'm damn good at my job, hell I love my job! My productivity hasn't dropped, and the only time I've ever even been close to being reprimanded was when that asshat Nicholson came to tattle to you last week! And, yea, I'm not following the dress code. Do you know why? Because it's stupid! If you're trying not to look suspicious your failing miserably! Everybody here dresses alike! And people notice! The homeless guy on the corner thinks we're dissecting aliens in here! So if your going to fire me, do it because I suck at my job, not because I broke a fucking dress code!”
Coulson stared at her for a moment, setting aside his paper work completely. “Are you finished?” Darcy opened her mouth again only to shut it, giving a small, resigned nod. “Good.” Standing he walked over to his filing cabinet, pulling out a thick stack of papers. “You aren't the first person to break the dress code, though I have to say you are the first to do it in such an... eye catching way. That being said, I'm not firing you.” Sitting back down he slid the papers across the desk to her. Glancing at them quickly Darcy could make out the words classified, and Avengers.
Hands still firmly at her sides she sent him a look. “Well, if your not firing me, what are you doing?” Coulson made a hand gesture towards the paperwork, finally prompting her to pick them up.
“I have spoken to several people today, and all of them had questions about you.” he supplied, a small almost smile playing on his lips. “I'm not firing you, Ms. Lewis. I'm promoting you.”
Finally looking at the papers in her hand Darcy felt her mouth gap slightly. “Liaison to the Avengers Initiative? Are you for real?”
Coulson gave a breathy little laugh as he leaned back in his chair. “I assure you, I am very much for real. I told you when I hired you that I thought you had potential, I don't say things like that lightly. I've been grooming you since I hired you to take over the position.”
Darcy couldn't believe it. Her, as the SHIELD liaison to the Avengers. Sure it meant more paper work, and longer hours, but damn she got to hang out with superheroes, how many people got to do that? “Where do I sign?”
The entire thing took very little fanfare, just a few names and dates over about twenty pages worth of non-disclosure agreements. An hour later her hand hurt and her eyes felt like they were crossing, but she was the semi-official liaison. “Very good, Ms. Lewis.” A brief handshake later the paperwork was filed and she was heading towards the door. “Oh, one more question before you go.” Turning slightly to look over her shoulder she lifted an eye brow. “Exactly what color is that?”
Tilting her head back Darcy gave a bark of laughter. “Electric green.”
“Aw. It goes very well with the purple heels. I'll see you tomorrow.” Waving her hand in answer she made her way out of the office quickly, laughing to herself. Haling a cab she couldn't stop herself from smiling. And Jane had told her to burn this dress.