Chapter Text
Winter passed, and soon it was coming up on two years since Jemma became Director, and she was close to full term with her baby.
She’d summoned Daisy to her office for a private chat.
“Am I in trouble?” Daisy asked, hesitantly. Her last mission had gone sideways, and she’d used a little bit more force than necessary.
“This is a bit more personal in nature,” Jemma smiled, her cheeks full and rosy.
“Well, I already know I’m godmother,” Daisy smiled back, getting comfortable in the leather chair.
“S.H.I.E.L.D follows U.S standards with maternity leave,” Jemma’s eyes misted. “And I need more than 8 weeks with my baby.”
“Absolutely,” Daisy agreed, still not sure where the conversation was going.
“I’d like to take a year leave of absence-” Jemma continued.
“Sound like a plan,” Daisy nodded.
“-and I’d like you to be interim Director whilst I’m away.” Jemma finished.
Daisy blinked, then turned around to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in the room.
“Me?” she inhaled sharply. “What? No! Why? How-”
“Think about it,” Jemma interrupted. “Talk it over with Robbie. I trust you implicitly, and as long as you follow proper protocol, you’d be perfect.”
Daisy’s eyes glimmered. “Thank you for believing in me.”
Jemma stood up and came around her desk, her pregnant belly at odds with the rest of her slim frame.
“I love you, Daisy,” she murmured. “Of course, I believe in you.”
They hugged each other, best friends who’d been through the worst.
“Jemma wants me to be acting Director,” Daisy grumbled at dinnertime with Robbie.
“That’s amazing,” Robbie praised. “Look at you!”
Daisy’s mouth twisted as she shook her head. “I don’t deserve it.”
Robbie frowned, placing his fork down. “Daisy, you’re a hard worker. You live and breathe and love S.H.I.E.L.D. I can’t think of a better person.”
Her fork clattered on her plate, as she stood up. “I’m going for a drive. Don’t wait up.”
And grabbing her jacket, she stalked out, leaving a dumbfounded Robbie in her wake.
It was past midnight when Daisy came back to the apartment, and Robbie was sitting on the couch, waiting for her.
“I told you not to wait up,” she scolded as she locked the door behind her.
“I was worried,” he murmured, concern and sleep etched in his face.
“I’m fine,” she bit out. “Why are you hovering?”
Robbie’s eyes widened, fully awake now, and unsure how to respond.
“Because I love you,” he finally said.
“I don’t even deserve that,” Daisy’s voice was bitter. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
And she strode into the bedroom, slamming the door.
Robbie exhaled. Did they just have their first fight? Did he do something wrong? Should he leave her be?
He thought back to the times Daisy never left him alone. God, she was such a pain. He didn’t want her interference, but he'd needed it. But shouldn’t he respect her wishes?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure what to do.
Desperate, he texted Mack. “Hey man. So if a woman tells a man to leave her alone, what does that mean?”
Mack responded immediately. “I’d give her some space, then ask her to talk about what’s on her mind.”
“Space?” Robbie muttered. What did that mean? Should he leave? Not talk to her? Sleep on the couch?
“Are you coming?” Daisy’s voice called from their bedroom. “You can pick a show.”
Robbie sighed. Being in a relationship was so confusing. “Yeah, coming.” He called back.
Neither of them wanted to watch TV, and they ended up turning off the lights.
“What’s going on Dais?” Robbie finally asked. He was sitting up, leaning against the headboard, while Daisy lay on his lap.
“Just my self-loathing acting up. Nothing new,” she replied, bitterly.
Robbie had a sudden insight that while she’d always been helping him, he never returned the favor with her. God, he was so selfish.
“Tell me what to do,” he urged. He needed something to do, or fix.
“Unless you can bring back the dead,” Daisy’s voice was desolate. “Nothing you can do.”
Robbie felt his stomach drop. It had to be Lincoln Campbell. His heroics at S.H.I.E.L.D were legendary, and he was Daisy’s boyfriend at the time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, lamely.
“Me too.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
“Tell me about Lincoln,” Robbie ventured.
“He was-” Daisy trailed off.
Robbie sensed her hesitation, and holding her hand, he kissed it. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”
Daisy grew quiet. Talking about her past love with her new one could get awkward. But Lincoln was part of her, too, despite people seeming to forget him. Maybe she was subtly giving others that cue? She drew a deep breath, and Robbie pulled her closer.
“He was-?” Robbie repeated, stroking her hair.
“-sunshine,” Daisy said. Her voice hitched, and a tear escaped. “He was sunshine.” She gave a small laugh, even as another tear fell. “It sounds silly, but it’s true. He could be moody at times but when he smiled-”
She got up and rested her head on Robbie’s shoulder. “He was funny. And sweet. Always had a smile. Even when he was going to die.” The lump in her throat was getting larger, and breathing grew difficult.
Robbie hugged her close, saying nothing.
“He was stupid,” Daisy’s mouth twisted. “Sacrificing himself. None of us deserved it. I sure as hell didn’t.”
Robbie rubbed her back, and she wiped her eyes. “But he did it anyway. And that’s Lincoln. Every good intention.”
“I’m sorry, mi amor,” Robbie soothed. “I’m sorry.”
With his words, the dam broke, and Daisy cried into Robbie’s chest, loud heaving wails, finally grieving Lincoln, without the shadow of guilt.
“He always needed to shave,” Daisy was futilely wiping her eyes, as more tears flowed. “And I was supposed to get him better hair mousse, his hair was always messy.”
“He probably thought you liked it,” Robbie offered. Tears were pricking at the back of his eyes. He loved her but if he could go back in time and made sure Lincoln didn’t die, he would.
She gave a choked laugh. “I actually did like his scruff. And his hair was always soft.” She smiled. “Kinda like a puppy’s, actually.”
“Let the man rest in peace,” Robbie carefully wiped Daisy’s face. “And don’t compare him to a puppy.” He kissed her forehead.
Daisy snorted. She got up to wash her face, and she pulled along Robbie so he could wash his hands. She was sure it wasn’t just tears he was wiping off.
They freshened up at the tiny sink, and Robbie gently patted her face dry.
“When Dia de Muertos comes again,” he said. “Maybe we could do something to remember him by his grave?” Robbie held his breath, not sure how she would feel about something from his culture.
“His grave is the stars and sky. Literally,” Daisy hugged him tightly. “But he does have a spot on our Wall of Remembrance?”
Robbie hugged her back. He wanted to bring up the offer from Jemma but didn’t think it would be the right time.
“I don’t think I could be a good Director,” Daisy was pulling them back to bed. “I don’t want the responsibility.”
Robbie remained silent. How could he encourage her, without pressuring her? He just wanted her to be happy.
“I’m here for you, whatever you decide,” he pulled her to lay on his chest. “You’d make the best damn Director though.”
“You think so?”
“Yep,” Robbie assured her. “You have the biggest heart, and you’re strong and stubborn and smart. And a hard worker.”
“That’s anyone,” Daisy said. “I don’t have degrees and PhD’s-”
“What does that matter?” Robbie rose up and linked their hands. “Jemma has her strengths. Coulson had his. You have yours. Maybe that’s what S.H.I.E.L.D needs for a bit till Jemma comes back.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s only a year right?”
“That’s what she says,” Daisy nuzzled him.
“I’ll support you no matter what you choose,” Robbie nuzzled her back. “Let’s go to sleep.”
“I love you,” Daisy murmured, as they got comfortable.
“Te amo, cariño.”