"Jane, I swear to Thor, you had better not blow up the lab. Again."
Jane Foster, renowned astrophysicist and creator of the Foster Theory, girlfriend of the Norse god of thunder,
was looking decidedly less Sciencey and more crazy homeless person as she entered what was easily her thirty-sixth hour of work.
Darcy, Jane’s former intern and current research assistant (who did less assisting with research and more making sure Jane behaved like a normal human being once in awhile),
had taken a Mental Health Day the day before and it was immediately clear to her that Jane had spent the entire time working. The number of coffee stains on her flannel were a dead give away.
“It’s been at least a year-”
“Three weeks, Jane. It’s been three weeks since our last explosion.”
Jane snorted and waved a hand in Darcy’s direction. “That one hardly counts. It was only a little fire.”
“A little fire that
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