78 A White Lotus

Erik, Harry, Natasha, and Phil made their way through the narrow hallways of Jane Foster’s London apartment building. Along the trek, Natasha felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. There was no immediate threat, no footsteps trailing them or sudden noises to trigger an alarm, but the sensation persisted like a whisper in the back of her mind.

Her eyes flicked to the shadows pooling along the stairwell corners, hand brushing absently near her holstered weapon. Harry walked beside her, seemingly relaxed but likely attuned to the shift in her mood. “What’s wrong?” Harry asked softly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Natasha’s lips barely moved as she replied, “It’s nothing really.”

As they reached the penthouse apartment, Natasha brushed aside her instincts. They were entering a civilian apartment after all. There weren’t going to be any threats there.

The apartment itself barely resembled a living space. It looked more like the aftermath of a scientific hurricane. Every available surface was cluttered with an overwhelming mess of computers, tangled cables, stacks of papers, and open books with hastily scribbled notes in the margins. Complex scientific instruments were precariously balanced on countertops and makeshift stands. A pinboard on the far wall was covered in maps, equations, and photos, all pinned up in chaotic, overlapping layers connected by fraying strings of red yarn that crisscrossed like an elaborate web.

In the middle were three figures. Two women sat hunched over a glowing monitor, intensely reviewing streams of data. One of them, with blonde hair in a messy bun and an expression of determination, could only be Dr. Jane Foster. Beside her was a younger woman with wild energy, black hair half-tamed by a headband, furiously chewing gum as she pointed at something on the screen.

Hovering around them was a lanky man with an awkward, hopeful demeanor. He shifted from foot to foot, peeking over their shoulders as if desperate to contribute but with absolutely no idea how to do so.

Natasha exchanged a glance with Harry, her brows raised as if to say, ‘What have we walked into?’

As Erik stepped into the room, the chaos momentarily stilled. Both women immediately lit up at the sight of him.

"Erik!" the blonde exclaimed, darting forward and wrapping him in a tight hug. The brunette followed closely, joining the embrace without hesitation.

"We were so worried about you," the blonde said earnestly. "When we saw the news, we didn't know what to do."

"Yeah, thank God for our connections with SHIELD," the brunette added, her voice warm with relief. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have known who to contact or if you were okay."

“It’s the least we could do to help you,” Phil chimed in from behind. “Dr. Selvig has been a tremendous asset to SHIELD.”

The woman straightened abruptly, clearly startled by the unexpected presence. Their eyes darted past Eric, landing on Phil, Harry, and Natasha standing just inside the doorway.

“Agent Coulson? Harry?” the blonde gasped, her brows shooting up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to check on Dr. Selvig,” Phil explained calmly. “I asked Harry to review his mind to ensure there were no lingering influences from Loki.”

The brunette's eyes widened. “Wait, you can do that?” she asked, staring at Harry like he'd just sprouted a second head.

“It’s a thing I do,” Harry said with a casual shrug, though Natasha caught the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Thank you so much for bringing Eric back,” the brunette said shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you come inside? Would you like some tea?” she offered sweetly, her tone practically dripping with innocence.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, already feeling the headache forming.

“That would be delightful, thank you,” Harry said politely. “We've got some work to do, though. Oh, and this is Natasha, she's with SHIELD too. Nat, this is Dr. Jane Foster, and her assistant, Ms. Darcy Lewis.”

The women exchanged polite smiles, though Natasha's was so thinly veiled it bordered on a grimace. As they stepped into the apartment, Darcy’s eyes flickered to Harry with unmistakable interest, her smile lingering just a bit too long.

“And I’m Ian,” a nervous male voice chimed in as the lanky intern trailed behind Darcy. He gave an eager wave. “Darcy’s intern… well, intern to the assistant, technically—”

“Nobody asked, Ian,” Darcy cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Now come with me and help me make some tea. You are not going to ruin this for me. I finally get to meet him after New Mexico, this has to be perfect.” Darcy whispered and dragged him away with her.

Ian blinked, deflated and followed Darcy along.

As Erik busied himself at the computer with Phil, Natasha grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him back.

“Tell me she isn’t the same Darcy Lewis Thor talked about,” Natasha asked pointedly.

“When did Thor talk about Darcy?” Harry feigned innocence, tilting his head curiously.

Natasha narrowed her eyes, not buying it. “On the Quinjet, when we were taking Loki back to the Helicarrier from Stuttgart,” she reminded him.

Harry chuckled. “Maybe.”

“She better behave, Potter,” Natasha warned, crossing her arms.

Harry blinked at her with mock innocence. “How exactly am I supposed to make that happen?”

“I don’t know. Magic.” Natasha huffed. “That’s your expertise, after all.”

Grinning, Harry leaned closer. “You know I only have eyes for you, right?” he said softly.

“It’s not you I’m worried about—it’s her,” Natasha grumbled.

Harry chuckled, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. “She’s just a kid,” he said dismissively, though a spark of mischief flickered in his eyes.

Natasha didn’t look convinced but masked her irritation. “Hmm,” she muttered, stepping back to rejoin the group.

Harry followed, biting back a grin.

As Natasha and Harry rejoined the group, Darcy sashayed over with a tray of teacups and a teapot balanced like it held the secrets of the universe.

“We only have some Earl Grey. Will that work?” she asked sweetly, batting her lashes at Harry.

“Anything is fine,” Harry assured her with a polite smile.

Darcy’s entire face lit up like someone had handed her the Nobel Prize. “Great!” she chirped, pouring the tea with what could only be described as unnecessary flair. Then, as though the laws of physics demanded it, her hand just happened to brush against Harry’s as she handed him the cup, her touch lingering for a second too long.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed into surgical lasers aimed directly at the back of Darcy’s head.

“Oh, thanks,” Harry said, bemused.

“That’s for you,” Darcy declared with a saccharine smile. She pivoted and, without even glancing at the others. “Ian, be a dear and serve everyone else, would you?” she chirped, waving her hand dismissively as though knighting the poor intern.

Ian blinked, clearly baffled by his sudden promotion to tea boy. “Uh, sure?” he mumbled, fumbling with the tray.

Darcy flounced off, pretending to be preoccupied with something infinitely more important.

“Charming,” Natasha deadpanned, her tone dry enough to steep the tea faster.

Harry bit back a laugh as he took a sip.

Natasha shifted her ire toward Harry, her eyes narrowing into a silent but deadly glare that screamed ‘control your fangirl before I do.’

Harry, ever the picture of innocence, merely shrugged, as if to say, ‘What can I do?’

She arched an eyebrow, a silent fix this, but Harry casually turned his attention to Erik’s explanation as if astrophysics had never been more riveting.

Natasha’s jaw clenched. Her internal irritation simmered, but she plastered on her professional mask, exhaling slowly through her nose.

"We need to stabilize the focal point of the Convergence," he explained to Phil and Harry.

Phil leaned forward. "How do we know where that is?"

Erik's eyes gleamed with the passion of a man who'd just solved the universe's crossword puzzle. "We follow the directions. This has happened before, thousands of years ago, and the Ancients witnessed it." He placed a map of the British Isles on the table, tapping it confidently. "They left us a guide."

He drew lines across the map, connecting points with the precision of a mad genius. "Stonehenge. Snowdon. The Great Orme. These aren’t random monuments. They are coordinates leading us... here." He jabbed his finger at a single point.

Harry leaned over, his brows furrowing. "That’s Greenwich."

"Exactly," Erik confirmed, eyes gleaming. "The walls between worlds will be almost non-existent during the Convergence. Physics is going to go absolutely ballistic. Gravitational surges, spatial distortions, maybe even tears in reality itself. And the surrounding areas?" He shook his head grimly. "Chaos."

Phil glanced at Harry and Natasha. "Sounds like Tuesday."

Harry sighed. "Better add interdimensional rips to the list of things we have to fix before lunch."

Natasha just muttered under her breath. "Lovely."

“That makes sense,” Darcy chimed in, practically bouncing as she grabbed a laptop. She wasted no time scrambling back and wedging herself right next to Harry.

“See?” she said sweetly, tilting the screen toward him while making sure her shoulder brushed against his. “The readings around these areas are showing similar anomalies to what we saw in New Mexico.” Her voice took on an almost conspiratorial tone as she leaned in even closer, her breath warm against Harry’s cheek. “You remember New Mexico, right?” she asked hopefully, implying not the arrival of Thor but the moment that they had shared together.

Natasha’s eyes twitched.

Harry, oblivious to the underlying question, gave a nonchalant nod. “Yeah, I remember.”

Darcy sighed happily at Harry’s response.

Natasha’s fingers clenched around her cup.

“We should go check it out,” Jane interrupted, oblivious to Darcy’s antics while also her minding drifting to the implication of Darcy’s findings. She hoped that they could find a way to contact Thor.

Darcy beamed up at Harry. “We totally should.”

Natasha inhaled sharply. Someone was about to die. “Before that, we should figure out how to fix this and ensure reality itself doesn’t collapse on us,” Natasha suggested.

“Like I said, my gravimetric spikes can stabilize the Convergence’s impact,” Erik explained. “But I can’t mass-produce them fast enough to contain the entire area.”

“Can you bring up the schematics?” Natasha asked.

Before Erik could so much as move, Darcy was already on the case. In record time, she pulled up the schematics, but not for Natasha, not for Phil, but for Harry. She turned the screen toward him, leaning in so close that their arms touched. “Here you go, Harry,” she said, voice sweet as honey, “I pulled it up just for you.”

Natasha’s eyebrow twitched dangerously as she shot a pointed look at Harry.

Harry, to his credit, gave a strained chuckle, torn between amusement and self-preservation.

“You should show this to Natasha. She’s the one who asked,” Harry suggested, keeping his tone polite.

Darcy’s bright expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she let out an exaggerated sigh, as if Harry had just asked her to hand over a family heirloom. She turned to Ian, who had been silently existing in the background, and all but shoved the laptop into his hands.

“Here, intern. Be useful for once,” she said dramatically.

Ian, caught completely off guard, fumbled with the laptop before scrambling over to Natasha.

Meanwhile, Darcy wasted no time refocusing her attention back on Harry, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she sidled up beside him again. “Sooo, Harry,” she drawled, eyes twinkling, “what do you even do at SHIELD? Besides looking unfairly good in black, of course.”

Natasha took a slow, deep breath through her nose, resisting the very real urge to throw the laptop at Darcy’s head.

Natasha reviewed the schematics carefully, though the tightness in her jaw suggested she was still restraining the urge to commit minor violence. “When is the Convergence happening?” she asked.

Erik did some quick mental calculations, fingers tapping against his thigh. “A week from now, based on Earth time.”

Natasha nodded, then turned the laptop toward Phil. “It’s a bit crude, but I think our engineers can mass-produce at least a thousand of these in five days. If not, we can commission Stark Industries to handle it on short notice.”

Phil studied the schematics carefully, his brow furrowing. “If we don’t modify the design, we can probably produce them ourselves without outside help. I’ll head over to our London office to get production started. I will keep sending them as they are made.”

“Great,” Natasha said, already switching gears. “I’ll take this team of scientists to study the location and set up preliminary safety measures. We’ll need to make sure civilians don’t get caught in whatever reality-bending nightmare is about to unfold.”

Phil gave her an approving nod. “I’ll also assign a squad of agents to secure the perimeter.”

From the corner of her eye, Natasha noticed Darcy leaning just a little too far into Harry’s personal space, twirling a strand of hair as she whispered something to him. Harry, of course, had the audacity to smirk like he was enjoying her irritation.

Natasha inhaled sharply through her nose.

“...And I’ll personally ensure that some people don’t cause unnecessary distractions,” she added, her tone deceptively sweet.

Phil blinked at her in mild confusion.

"Alright, you lot," Natasha said, pointing at the group of scientists. "You're coming with me to check out these sites while SHIELD agents secure the area."

That declaration lit up Jane’s face like a kid on Christmas morning. "Wait, you’re actually letting us measure and record these phenomena?" she asked excitedly. "You’re not going to turn the site into Area 51 or something, right?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "We’ll restrict access to the general public for safety reasons, but SHIELD doesn’t lock out its own scientists. We need your research to study these temporal distortions so we can protect Earth from more wormhole invasions like, the one in New York."

Jane and the others nodded eagerly at that, clearly thrilled at the opportunity. The scientists immediately started gathering their equipment. Meanwhile, Harry and Phil stood off to the side, discussing the logistics of securing the perimeter.

"I’ll make sure the agents are stationed at key entry points," Phil said. "Minimal interference, but enough presence to keep civilians out."

"Good," Harry agreed. "I can also set up magical barriers in case anything goes wrong."

On the other side of the room, Natasha took the opportunity to corner one Darcy Lewis, fully intending to have a private conversation about a certain green-eyed wizard.

"Cough, cough," Natasha cleared her throat right behind Darcy.

Darcy jumped with a squeak, nearly dropping the tablet she was holding. "Jeez, Lady! You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I have delicate nerves! What if I had a heart condition?" She clutched her chest dramatically.

Natasha didn’t even blink. "Stop acting like a white lotus around Harry."

Darcy gasped, all wide-eyed innocence. "I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is just how I am. Super friendly. Super approachable. Super cute." She batted her lashes for emphasis.

Natasha leaned in, her voice low and firm. "Cut the act, Lewis. You’re not fooling anyone. Harry is already in a committed relationship. Your little theatrics are unnecessary."

Darcy gasped, placing a hand over her chest like Natasha had just accused her of high treason. "Wow. Harsh. First of all, these aren’t theatrics, this is just how I am, naturally charming and effortlessly adorable. Second of all, committed doesn’t mean unavailable. It just means… he needs a little healthy distraction."

Natasha’s eyes narrowed into slits. "Try that sentence again. Slowly."

Darcy waved a hand. "Okay, okay, hear me out. Look, I’m not saying I’d steal him or anything unless he wanted to be stolen." She added with a wink before quickly continuing, "I’m just saying, guys like him? Once in a lifetime. Tall, hot, magic, great hair, probably smells like adventure and really expensive cologne."

Natasha crossed her arms, unimpressed. "What’s your point, Lewis?"

Darcy exhaled dramatically. "My point is, his girl isn’t here, right? And you look like a strong, independent woman who doesn’t have time to babysit a dude’s love life. So why don’t we do each other a favor? You go focus on all your big important SHIELD business, and I focus on charming the pants off Harry metaphorically speaking… unless—"

Natasha’s stare could have frozen fire.

Darcy cleared her throat. "Right. Bad joke. Moving on."

Natasha inhaled deeply, flexing her fingers like she was actively restraining the urge to strangle Darcy. "You want my help seducing Harry?"

Darcy grinned. "Girl-to-girl assist. Exactly! You get it. Look, I’m a good person. I recycle. I only pirate movies when absolutely necessary. I deserve this, Natasha."

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose. "Lewis, I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say."

Darcy nodded, eager.

"I. Am. His. Fiancée."

Silence.

Darcy blinked. Once. Twice. "Hah. Good one. No, but seriously."

Natasha arched a brow.

Darcy’s grin wavered. "No, but for real though?"

Natasha held up her left hand, subtly twisting the ring on her finger.

Darcy’s eyes followed the movement, processing, recalculating, buffering like a crashed program. "Oh."

Beat.

"Ohhhh."

Beat.

"OHHH SH—"

Natasha clapped a hand over Darcy’s mouth before she could shout across the entire apartment.

Darcy flailed. "Mmmph!"

Natasha leaned in. "Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to step away from my fiancé, you are going to keep your hands to yourself, and you are going to drop this entire conversation from your memory like it never happened. Because if you don’t?"

She let the rest of the threat linger in the air.

Darcy’s eyes darted around, weighing her options, before she finally nodded frantically.

Natasha released her, stepping back.

Natasha watched in real-time as Darcy’s face ran through a full emotional speed-run of shock, horror, and despair before landing on something that made Natasha’s headache preemptively worsen.

"Ah." Darcy exhaled, nodding to herself like she’d just cracked the Da Vinci Code.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Ah?"

Darcy pointed at her. "So, you’re the competition."

Natasha blinked. "Excuse me?"

Darcy squared her shoulders, her face now the embodiment of determination. "Alright. Okay. Now that’s a real fight. This just got interesting."

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose. "Lewis, I’m not your competition. I’m his fiancée. That means I already won."

Darcy just grinned like a fool who enjoyed playing with fire. "Not yet. May the best woman win."

And with that, she turned on her heel and strutted off, her head held high, her posture full of unearned confidence.

Natasha watched her go, her fingers twitching with the deep, primal urge to just end this entire situation with one well-placed sleeper hold.

Harry, who had been watching from a safe distance, absolutely enjoying himself, sauntered over with a smug expression. "Everything alright?"

Natasha exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "I think I just got challenged to a duel."

Harry smirked. "Oh? Over what?"

Natasha shot him a glare. "Don’t play dumb, Potter. It doesn’t suit you."

Harry chuckled, nudging her playfully. "C’mon, it’s cute."

Natasha stared at him, deadpan. "If I push her off the building, will you arrest me?"

Harry snorted. "Depends. How high up are we?"

Natasha sighed, resisting the overwhelming desire to curse Darcy herself.