Jane waited for a storm.
No, that wasn’t quite right—that wasn’t quite accurate, and accuracy mattered.
Jane chased the storm. She built new equipment and scoured her data. When New Mexico kept coming up dry, she moved outward. She called on SHIELD resources and tried to find other hot spots. (None of them were so aptly named as Puente Antiguo, which would always keep a special place in her heart and her humor).
Darcy followed, slamming doors and stealing Jane’s chips, acing any online class that asked her to argue and forgetting to ask Jane for help on her science and mathematics. Jane eventually learned she had to almost bully her into accepting the help.
“Who taught you not to ask for things?“
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Who taught you to be nosy? Hey, wait, I thought that was a, uh, that little Greek s dude.”
“A lowercase sigma? No, it’s a cursive v. That’s a sigma there.”
“We have both? What idiot decided that?”
“Probably Einstein or somebody,” said Jane. “They can always read their own handwriting."
"See, this is why you get to do the grocery shopping,” said Darcy. “You’d send me out to get cursive v’s and I’d come back with a baby sigma and you know it’d just be your scientist handwriting’s fault.”
They chased the storm. Months went by. Jane went out to stand in actual rain and let it drench her. The sun had blasted each water drop hitting her face into steam, once, and sent it flying upward to the sky. It had turned to ice, to crystals, to water droplets, and clung closer and closer to its siblings. The water had traveled miles, maybe, over oceans and fields and country borders, to fall here on her face.
When Jane got back to the Motel Six where they were staying, soaked through, Darcy bullied her into a hot shower and played I’m Singing in the Rain at top volume all night.
–on the verge of understanding something extraordinary[link to full fic]