Please may I have Darcy & Jane friendship bonding with a side of: “That is the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit.”
Darcy threw the demon-containment system that Dr. Strange had wisely deemed a permanent necessity for their lab and pulled out her cell phone.
“Does it really count as a summoning if we technically didn’t call on them?”
She paused before hitting the send button. Questions like that deserved exaggerated expressions of tolerance. “Jane,” she paused, ensuring she infused her voice with enough sarcastic sweetness, “ Honey. Just because your weird gadget somehow plays the perfect imitation of a demonic pan flute and it’s not actually you doing the summoning does not mean it wasn’t a summoning.”
“No.” She held up a finger. “I’m right on this one. It’s a summoning. That’s probably the only reason why Strange is okay with being on my speed dial.”
With that she hit the call button. Unsurprisingly, the man picked up quickly and after a short “it happened again,” he sighed and said he would be right over. Darcy hurriedly expressed her thanks and hung up, catching the pout on Jane’s face as she was Angry Puttering around her desk. Angry Puttering was a lot like normal puttering; it just involved slightly more curses and furrowed brows. A nuance not everyone got. Luckily for both of them, Darcy was fluent in all things Dr. Foster.
“I know, I know. You’re disappointed they all want to talk corporeal possession and shady deals not Science!.”
Jane began tightening a screw very vehemently, grunting her response out with each turn. “You’d think,” turn,” that if a piece of science equipment,” turn, “ is what summoned them,” turn, “they’d at least be willing to explain the details of their existence.” Turn. “For research purposes.”
Darcy worried what it meant that she actually agreed with that train of thought, and sympathetically gave her boss’ shoulder a pat. “Don’t worry, sport. You’ll get ‘em someday.”
The scientist nodded determinedly, and moments later straightened with a wild gleam starting. “Maybe… if I-”
“Don’t even go there!” Darcy forcibly put Jane’s butt onto the stool next to her and held her down by her shoulders, looking her directly in the eye. It was important to be clear in times insanity. “You are not selling your soul to research the occult first-hand.”
Jane looked down at the screwdriver still in her hands.
“I wasn’t going to.”
Darcy didn’t accept that for a one moment, and kept staring until her friend finally met her eyes again; this time with an impatient glare.
“Okay, I was gonna try and barter, but I wasn’t going to actually sell my soul. Promise.”
Both women’s eyes narrowed as they stared at each other. After a long moment, Darcy nodded with a muttered “uh huh” and walked back to her workstation, skeptically eyeing Jane. When the scientist stuck her tongue out and went back to puttering, she put her earbuds in, hoping to drown out the eery humming that came from the contained demon. But before she turned her music on, Jane began muttering to herself.
“I wonder what the going rate for a soul is…. I’m sure Stephen could get it back anyway.”