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The Pinz was sentient. Darcy would bet cash money on it. She only had $527.63 in her bank account, but she would lay it all down on that old junker of a van being psychic.
It started out as little things. The radio always set to the classic rock station even though she knew Jane never changed it away from the Top 40s. Every time she reached into the glove box, whatever she needed was on top of the pile. Jane’s machines would fuss in the lab, but as soon as they spent time in the Pinz en route to a field excursion, they’d miraculously start behaving. Jane wrote it off as “pothole recalibration”, but Darcy had her suspicions.
Technically, the Pinz was Jane’s. Technically. She bought it in New Mexico before Darcy’s internship with the pittance of a grant award from the National Science Foundation. Apparently she had the choice down to it and an equally ancient Wrangler, but the Pinz had more storage space. So, it was Jane’s name on the title, but it was ultimately Darcy’s baby.
See, her uncle had a body shop, but his real passion was playing with the junkers– the vehicles no one wanted anymore. And Uncle Jimmy had her with him as soon as she was old enough to hold a wrench, teaching her how to disassemble and reassemble and maintain most things on four wheels. Sure, she was more familiar with mid-century American engines, but she could fumble her way to effectiveness on a mid-70s Austrian model.
(If you asked Darcy, that was what got her chosen for the internship: free mechanic.)
But the longer she worked on the van, the little things became things she couldn’t really ignore anymore. The turn signal engaged almost before she pushed it, same with the wipers. She never had to turn the headlights on when she needed them. None of this happened to Jane, and Darcy almost couldn’t believe it was happening to her anyway, so she kept quiet about it. No need to get her sent to a residential program and all that. Especially not once she started noticing a feeling in the back of her mind.
Everything worked for her, at least, so she didn’t question it. She always believed in talking nicely to her machines. This was just the first time she got a response.
***
She got the magic wand on a Thursday.
It appeared, like most things did, in the glove box. Jane had music blasting to solve some equation or other and Darcy could only stand two repeats of “Firework”, maybe three, before getting overstimulated. Unfortunately for her, it was Jane’s current hyperfixation for math problems. So there she was in the Pinz, futzing with the phase meter.
“Oh, come on,” she groaned at the internal circuitry. “I know I’m good with my hands, but I only barely know computer wiring. But Jane asked me to fix you because she thinks I can do this and I have to because I need the credits.” Darcy turned the box over in her hands again, swearing. “How am I gonna do this?”
She felt a nudge in her head and glanced at the dash skeptically. “Okay,” she said out loud, accepting that maybe she wasn’t crazy. “Okay, I believe you’re talking to me. What do I do?”
The light in the wheel well next to the glove box illuminated.
“Fuck me,” she breathed. “You’re actually talking to me. Okay. Glove box.” She opened it and reached in. Inside was a… well, she didn’t know what it was. It was about the size of a pen, but not, like, the disposable kind you could buy in a twenty pack for two bucks. No, it was like the fancy Montblanc ones that had heft to them. It was silver-toned with emerald vines twining up the length. The top appeared to have a light on it supported by some serious looking prongs.
It was gorgeous.
Darcy picked it up and examined it closer. It was pretty, but it still looked like a simple penlight. “What do I do with this?”
She felt the nudge again.
“Point it at the phase meter? Then what?” She paused. “‘Just do it’?” She raised an eyebrow at the dashboard. “No need to get sassy.”
The cabin lights flashed on and off, and Darcy had the distinct feeling she was being laughed at.
“Well, here goes,” she shrugged and pointed the device light-first at the phase meter. And nearly dropped it when the tip glowed emitting a whirring noise. “What the fuck. Literally what the fuck. Holy shit.”
The nudge was back.
“It’s fixed?” Darcy shrugged and reassembled the housing. “Let’s see.”
It worked. Holy shit it worked. “How? Alright, I won’t question it.” She paused to listen. “It’s for me?” She looked down at the magic wand (because what else could it be). “What does it do? Anything? But how do I… You know what? I’ll figure it out.”
***
Darcy could tell that Thor was suspicious. Not suspicious in the “what was this weirdo doing in a rainbow tornado in the middle of the desert” way that she initially pegged him with, but in a suspicious-of-her way. The way he called her “my lady” was different from how he called Jane. Towards Jane, it felt like a courtesy, but towards Darcy? It felt like a title, and it wigged her out.
He asked her how she knew Allspeak. She didn’t.
She kept the wand hidden in her cleavage. He stared at her, but he wasn’t ogling her tits.
The way he looked at the Pinz set off alarm bells.
Then he offered his condolences. For what, she hadn't a clue, but clearly he knew something she didn't and it had everything to do with her van and the magic wand it gave her. She just licked her lips and looked away. Thor could take that any way he wanted to– it just felt safest not to answer.
The voice in her head… okay, no. The Pinz. Audrey– yes she named her van after a man eating plant, sue her. Audrey had suspicions of her own and completely reverted to a mundane vehicle in his presence, which ended up being useful when the feds rolled up. If anyone was going to figure out something was up, that Agent Coulson would be the one to do it.
But it seemed Audrey knew of Thor, sending Darcy impressions of feasting, excess, and arrogance. Images of a spoiled prince with little self-control. Darcy admittedly saw hints of that in Thor’s mannerisms, but it seemed to her that maybe he’d outgrown most of it.
She also got the impression that Audrey was there with someone. “You had a friend before me, didn’t you?” she asked the steering wheel. “Where are they?”
A few lines of “My Heart Will Go On” played quietly from the speakers.
Darcy bit her lip and ran a comforting hand over the dashboard. “I’m really sorry. But I’m glad Jane found you. That junkyard was nowhere for you to be.”
The cabin lights flashed.
“Yeah, I’m glad I found you, too.”
***
Darcy could feel Audrey’s panic at the same moment their jackbooted stalker raised a hand to his earpiece.
“We need to get out,” he said, “there’s a–”
A laser beam shot past the window and in Darcy’s brain, Audrey shrieked.
Daleks.War.Death.TimeLords.ScreamRageCryNO.
Darcy didn’t know some of the words, but the panic…oh, Audrey’s panic was visceral. We’ll be fine, she thought back. Don’t give yourself away, you’re hidden. Darcy couldn’t risk SHIELD discovering the van was sentient. She wouldn’t let Audrey get experimented on.
They survived, which, if Darcy was being honest, was a shocker. She almost expected the military to launch some sort of tactical strike and call any resulting crater a methane leak or something. Audrey got the most thorough detailing Darcy ever did, partially because Darcy needed to keep her hands busy and partially because she could sense Audrey needed the comfort.
***
There was a man circling Audrey.
“Hey!” Darcy called out sharply from the back door of the lab. “Your buddies left yesterday, dude,” she said, referencing SHIELD. “You missed the caravan, and you’re not taking my ride.”
“What?” He was still circling, and, Darcy realized, super confused. “What?”
This couldn’t be happening again.
He had on a pinstripe suit and a pair of Chucks, and somehow wasn’t melting in the New Mexico heat. Out of his pocket he pulled–
“Holy shit, you have one, too?”
“You have a TARDIS?”
They stared at each other in shock.