Darcy's demeanor quiets, between his reaction to Coulson's name and his question. She doesn't correct him on SHIELD employee. She still gets money deposited in her bank account every two weeks, but she thinks someone forgot to take her off the employee list. No one's been responding to her, which after aliens invaded London is kind of fucked up.

"Well," she says, setting down her lemon-y cocktail on the closest table. "I've been taking it as a dream. But as that's starting to get really unlikely, we can look at the facts, right?" Darcy adjusts her glasses. "Nobody here's surprised by the new arrivals, not really -- and we're definitely not the only ones. Bartender acted like I was one of many. If they're so chill about it, there has to be an explanation they know, right? A spaceship's a closed environment -- there must be some sort of processing for newcomers. Best bet's to look cute and ask an officer."

She shoots him a sideways glance. "Believe me, if my astrophysicist could do this, she'd be here to geek out." And figure out how to make sense of Star Trek science