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Landing at The Lighthouse jolts Daisy out of what feels like her millionth - but, in reality, probably falls closer to her thirtieth - doze.
[She’s only been able to grab snatches of sleep during the return trip. Her family hovers over her as if she’ll disappear if they blink - tossing ‘concussion’ and ‘hypothermia’ back and forth between them - while one of them gently shakes her awake and another adds blankets to her already colossal cocoon, kindly cranking the heat and allowing her to drift again.]
Daisy quivers as she struggles to unclasp her harness. She turns and, before she can ask for the help she’s going to need, Mack bends to let her loose. “Easy peasy.”
Daisy’s playfully pained grimace at his old-school phrase loses a lot of its pleasure when she recoils. She fights through her agonized fog. “A weird cliché and no Tremors? Dude. I’m disappointed. I mean?” She extends her trembling hands, glances down at where her knees jostle against his through all her fabric. “You passed up a perfect opportunity.”
Mack groans. “Blame that damn boyfriend of yours. Not even a full day alone with him and the guy’s getting to me.”
“He’s not my – ” Mack looks horrified enough that he might be considering brain damage. “Relax! We haven’t really had a chance to chat? We made out, he went off to blow enemy encampments to smithereens with you, and I hurled myself into the void. That doesn’t necessarily equal itemhood. And, yeah, old Danny Boy worms his way into your affections fairly stealthily.” She sighs, patting Mack’s leg and grinning drowsily. “Don’t take it too hard, though. He is a spy.”
“And I’m just a - ”
They laugh ‘mechanic’ together.
Daisy watches Coulson give May and Kora bags and boxes - squeezing their shoulders affectionately - as they disembark. Then he approaches the rest of the team. “Sounds like I’m missing a party back here.” He smiles. “You ready?”
He and Mack both reach out when Daisy stands and sways, set to lift her totally off her feet if she wants. She steps away from her seat, proving to herself - as well as her friends - that she won’t topple over. Not yet, at least. “Maybe just double-check that I don’t, like, smash my face in if you see me - ” She pitches forward to demonstrate.
“Your face really is very pretty and its absence would leave quite a hole in our lives,” Coulson compliments, circling an arm around her waist.
Mack steadies Daisy’s opposite side. “Remind me to poll Zuko once we’re inside. I’m gonna need his opinion.” She stares uncomprehendingly. “Would ‘hole’ or ‘abyss’ more accurately describe his feelings - if you were to vanish?”
Daisy’s stint as a supernova has temporarily fritzed her powers, but she uses her final ounce of ordinary energy to shove him. “You suck.” She attempts to sulk, sinking heavily into Coulson and abandoning Mack almost entirely.
“Aw, come on. Sometimes meddling is the best manifestation of love.” Mack stops short, hugging her fiercely. “And you know I love you, D.”
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Daisy’s been patched up, assured that her abilities will return ‘in due course’, and begged to spend the night in the healing chamber that’s been transferred from the Zephyr. Currently - after a truly insane number of rounds with her bestie the medical professional on the subject, and several threats of ‘heretofore unfathomable retaliation’ if she engages in any activity more strenuous than breathing - she’s tucked securely into her bunk.
“It’s unlocked!” she yells toward the knock on her door. “I’ve been forbidden from moving and I’m kind of scared that Jemma will actually bury that paralyzing agent in my Cap’n Crunch tomorrow if I do!”
Daniel comes in a second later, holding two mugs and clamping a box of Tag-Alongs in his teeth.
“Whoa. How did you - ” Daisy claps appreciatively, yanking at the cardboard so he can answer her. “Never mind. Don't divulge your methods. I enjoy a mysterious man.” She accepts her drink, hauling herself to sitting while Daniel settles next to her. “Oooh, contraband!” She waves her ‘Quake It Happen!’ cup at him - of course Deke would’ve hidden his joke instead of dumping it down the garbage chute as she’d demanded, and of course that would be the option with which Daniel went. “Leaving your post was just the beginning, huh?”
“So should I take that off your hands?” Daniel goes to follow through.
“Nope.” Daisy sips hurriedly, cradling her coffee carefully against her chest. “I just meant - it’ll be nice to have company in detention if Jemma catches us.” Daisy’s plea for a latte had been met with an aghast gasp and an almost endless explanation of the perils of caffeine in relation to a recently-rebooted system.
“I found the canister with the decaf label. It was squirreled in the back of the pantry, behind a mop, with - ” Daniel taps at the Q in her ceramic slogan. “Besides, if you run into trouble, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Leaning over to kiss her, he slides his palm between her skull and the wall – there’ll be no hope of reasoning with Jemma if Daisy’s concussion grade increases overnight; Daniel’s no dummy – and skates his fingers softly over her still-stinging skin. While she returns the favor, a tiny sliver of her subconscious wonders whether or not mouth-to-mouth had been instituted by 1955. She files that away to Google at some point - if she remembers.
When they eventually separate after a few minutes, Daisy murmurs, “You’re certainly prepared for all occasions, sir. You’ve done the Brooklyn 87th proud.”
“You wanna talk proud?” Daniel plays with one of the braids Yo-Yo had constructed to keep Daisy stationary while Jemma had assessed and mended. “You were amazing today.”
“Can you keep a secret?” Daisy teases, and Daniel nods eagerly - like she’s giving him a literal gift instead of just revealing a piece of herself. “As a kid? I wanted to be a Girl Scout so badly it was ridiculous. Free snacks!” She shows him the logo on his cookie choice. “Or, like, tinier me guessed they would be. But that dream faded fast after the Brodys.” Her expression crumples slightly and, when Daniel touches her cheek, she clears her throat. “Anyway. You think I’m too old to be sworn in? They already have a whole branch named after me, and saving the world’s a spectacularly solid display of responsibility and citizenship, wouldn’t you say?"
“Definitely. We’d be lucky to count you among our ranks.”
This time, Daisy kisses him, only pulling back because yawning into her assumed boyfriend’s mouth belongs way farther along on her intimacy continuum. At his ‘What’ve we got queued up this evening?’ and adorable hesitation with the term she’s coached him through employing during each and every movie night, she smiles so wide that her throbbing bruises are extremely unhappy with her.
“I’ve started to sand down your edges!” Daisy’s delight momentarily outshines her fatigue. “You’re only sort of squarish now!” The exasperated fondness that emanates from Daniel in response to ninety-nine percent of her thoughts materializes, so she figures he’s not insulted and she can continue. “Because I’m on Superman’s level - post-exposure to a crap-ton of kryptonite, obviously - and you made a football reference not too long ago - my marginal understanding of which is courtesy of a single piece of media? You’ll be experiencing Remember the Titans!”
Daisy lasts until the midnight wind-sprints to Gettysburg before she accidentally pops Daniel’s personal bubble, slowly slipping. Once Daniel notices, he shifts her fully flat and pillows her head in his lap.