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    Summary

    “The serum seems to be sorting out Rogers. He still has remainders in his bloodstream of the biological agent we’ve traced back to the flowers from Nowhere. Thor ID’d them. They’re the, uh, vines currently blowing Barton’s mind,” Tony continued, blithely ignoring the sounds coming from the Barton-Barnes end of the row of containment. He brought up charts and graphs on holoscreens that Darcy had no hope of ever seeing without her glasses. (Truthfully, she was grateful not to have her glasses, she decided, when she heard Barton start choking his chicken again.) “They’re some kind of spring festival flower, packed with wicked pheromones that force you to fuck until you die or to possibly fuck to live. We’re not sure yet. Allspeak isn’t infallible, so we’re running some additional scans before we run the risk of letting Barton fuck it out with the Growl Next Door.” He pointed to Bucky’s containment unit, where Bucky did, in fact, seem to be growling. And…suddenly looked a lot furrier than she remembered. “Barton got dosed with the Nowhere specimen, because Barnes is a romantical son of a bitch and Barton just had to stick his face in the want-sum-fuck space flowers because he has exactly zero self-preservation instincts.”

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