Abandoned Control

Darcy Lewis had picked up a habit. She blamed her addiction to the internet. But really, for when Jane was hanging out with her sixth form friends; when Dr Selvig wouldn’t let her in his lab with her other cold fearing friends or when Steve and those guys were busy being gay together or something, people watching was the best alternative to bothering anyone else or getting involved in their activities that she couldn’t honestly give two shits about (i.e. archery, yoga, boxing, martial arts, poetry and all that crap).

She’d been given a notebook in a secret Santa thing two years back and never thought she’d see the day where she’d use the book. She’d barely even touched it until she realised that she valued her solitude. Reflecting, it was a good thing when everyone was busy and she wasn’t; she could not only people watch, but listen to her beloved iPod, do homework she’d never normally do and catch up on things that she wouldn’t usually pay attention to; all whilst sitting in the building that could be considered the hub of the school, where both genders were allowed – the library and the arts department.

She’d found herself listening to Azealia Banks and deciding that they should be best friends, along with Marina Diamandis and Lana Del Rey. She wrote that down then applied tinted lip balm, taking a chance to look around and note the two people approaching her. “Well, well, well; I never thought I’d see this wonderful pairing.”

Loki rolled his eyes and Tony smirked, “He’s my life partner.”

They sat down in the red chairs opposite Darcy and put their bags on the table, getting out purple books and copies of Romeo & Juliet. Loki placed a question sheet between them and they worked silently, “Why so quiet?” Darcy inquired, lowering the volume on her iPod.

“It’s a library.” Loki replied, Darcy laughed sarcastically, “No, in all seriousness, Anthony is attempting to get into my good graces.”

Tony cupped a hand around his mouth and stage whispered, “He said if I’m quiet, he’ll give me a blowjob.”

Loki gasped, “I said no such thing!” And hit Tony’s upper arm lightly, “I said a handjob!”

“Are you two flirting? You goddamn are and it’s making me feel a little sick.” They both shook their heads and Darcy nodded slowly, “Really. Well, continue working – I shall occupy myself.”

She clicked the top of her pen and wrote in big letters on a page reserved for her assumptions on the relationships in the school: TONY – SUPER DESPERATE AND A LITTLE BIT IN LOVE; LOKI = DISMISSIVE BUT IS SUCCUMBING TO TONY’S SEXUAL ADVANCES. IF THESE TWO HAVE NOT FUCKED BY THE CHRISTMAS BREAK, I WILL LITERALLY THROW MYSELF AT VOLSTAGG. OR ENGAGE IN A THREESOME WITH THESE TWO. I’D MUCH RATHER THE LATTER.

Darcy looked up, smiled at the two boys and zipped up her fluffy pencil case. “I’m off. Catch you guys at dinner.” She winked and left the library, hearing shouting coming from a nearby classroom. Sebastian Shaw’s classroom.

She hid around a corner and listened carefully, picking out Shaw and Coulson’s voices. “I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement here, Phil. We want the same things for this school, you and me.”
A cold laugh came from Coulson, “No, we do not. I want for you to leave. By any means. But you’re a good teacher and I don’t have that kind of authority.”

”But don’t you feel that the current, let’s say, leader, isn’t pushing us in the right direction? He’s lost focus. We need our focus.”

“And what is that focus, Mr Shaw?”

“Well, I thought you knew it was-” Darcy’s phone rang. Loudly. The theme from Pirates of the Caribbean ruining her concentration and drawing attention to herself.

She ran out of the building and cursed at the ID, not hearing the sinister footsteps from behind her and answering with, “I’m going to massacre you, Jane.”

--

Natasha primed herself on her amazing reflexes, generally superior intelligence and her insanely good senses, which all usually made up for somebody else’s incompetence. She guessed that was why Coulson had made her the youngest prefect in school (with a walkie-talkie for contact purposes) – he called her his personal spy and didn’t object to when she bound her chest with bandages, put on a beanie hat with all her hair in, put in a nose ring and wandered around the boys part of the school, dressed as an effeminate hipster.

She was sitting in Coulson’s office, picking at a noodle salad that Clint, who was across from her, was eyeing up. She changed the track on her iPod and slid over the plastic container to him. He grinned and picked up the chopsticks with a look of glee in his eyes. Natasha’s skin prickled when she heard the click of that exchange teaching assistant with a strange pigmentation problem (who admittedly, she’d had some interesting conversations with in their mother tongue), Azazel’s Cuban heels. She heard the main entrance creak open and the scrape of rubber against cobbles, with a muffled scream and the ‘soothing’ words of something that could pass for an endearment in the Russian language.

Clint looked at her with eyes filled with confusion, and Natasha pulled out her English book, ripped out the corner of the back page and scribbled down in messy handwriting, as quickly as she could:

Something shady is going on outside, I know Coulson is having a meeting with Shaw and that means that Azazel is on watch. I have this feeling that somebody is being troubled and I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t know what’s going down. Keep on guard – I’ll text you if I need you or I feel you should be involved in this.

I don’t want Shaw to find this: EAT THIS NOTE.

She kicked off her boots and slid out of the room in her socks, putting up the hood of her black jacket and quietly followed Azazel and the girl to the end of the corridor, where he unlocked a supply cupboard and Natasha caught the eye of his captive, Darcy Lewis, a girl she had spoken with on a number of times, despite being in completely different classes. Darcy’s eyes widened significantly and Azazel turned her face around, walking them into the cupboard and shutting the door behind them. Natasha sighed and pulled a hairpin out of her curls, walking towards the door and cursing under her breath as she bent it out of shape.

The door opened smoothly after she’d fiddled with the lock for a moment and she snuck in, flicking on the light and finding herself confused by the sight. Darcy sitting in a chair with Azazel’s hands covering her mouth and keeping her seated whilst they waited for Shaw was what she expected, but all Natasha could see was a large book cupboard with doors labelled ‘NAZI HISTORY TEXTBOOKS’, ‘FASCIST ITALY TEXTBOOKS’ and ‘COLD WAR TEXTBOOKS’, which were strange labels to find near the drama studios. She pursed her lips, sighed and spun around the room, looking over every panel, over every shelf and at the labels on boxes, many of them seeming to be related to psychology. She approached the book cupboard and attempted to pick the lock, finding it impossible using her hairpin.

In frustration, she kicked the cupboard door, the sound of the kick echoing around in the cupboard, like it was larger than what it appeared. Natasha’s eyes widened, she took in a large breath and bit her lip, opening the door, closing it as softly as she could and she ran. To Steve and Bucky’s room, as it was closest. She texted as she ran, opening a group message and including Steve and Bucky, who’s room she was running to; Tony and Loki, who would be together anyway, so why was she wasting the credit; Clint, who would be beginning to worry; Thor, who, as head boy, should know what was going on; Bruce, because he knew every hiding place in the school; and Coulson.

Sent by Natasha Romanov, to: Bruce Banner; Bucky Barnes; Clint Barton; Phil Coulson; Loki Laufeyson; Thor Odinson; Tony Stark.

SHIT IS GOING DOWN – GET TO S&B’S ROOM ASAP I AM RUNNING THERE AND SO SHOULD YOU BE. They hace DARCY ina mysterious cupboard. DELETE THIS ONCE YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO. STEVE SND LUCKY’S ROOM. GET THERE QUICK.