It was Sunday morning, two days before Darcy's birthday. She'd made it a habit of going home on Sundays and Thursdays to do house things. (She used to be there more frequently, but things at the Enterprise had been keeping her busy lately.) Checking up on Vader and Erin, doing laundry, etc. Once her alarm went off at seven, she gathered up what stuff she needed and tapped out a note on her PADD to McCoy's console in the Medbay that she'd be back later in the evening. With her bag slung over her shoulder, Darcy made the trek to her car, parked just before the entrance to the space port. It was a decent little drive back to the house and it was a pain in the ass searching through her bag for her keys. Unlocking the door, she let herself inside.
There was an excited barking at the sound of the door and as Darcy kicked it shut behind her, Vader came screaming around the corner, yipping excitedly. Darcy dropped her bag to the floor, reaching down to pick up her puppy, snuggling him to her chest. He gave her happy kisses, trying to crawl further up her chest to just attack her face with love. After a few minutes of snuggling, Darcy set the Yorkie back down as Erin, the kitten that Darcy had gotten Magnus for the Festival of Rebirth, came padding up. She gave a questioning little mrrreow of hello and curled herself around Darcy's legs. Darcy gave up and just sat on the floor, trying to make up for the time that she wasn't there.
After about an hour of snuggling adorable furry things, Darcy got up and went to start a load of laundry. Once that was going, she gave the kitchen a once-over, chuckling softly at the variety of poptarts Thor had acquired. The kitchen was fine and she made her way upstairs to her room. Her stomach sank as she went, but with a sharp exhale, she forced the swell of emotions away. It'd been just over two months since Magnus was sent away from Mandalus. Darcy realized now that there was a ridiculously slim chance of him coming back. And even slimmer of her seeing him again. There was always the chance that they lived in the same world, but Darcy was beginning to doubt.
Darcy opened the closet and was assaulted by the lingering smell of Magnus' cologne on his shirts. She stopped for a moment, lifting her hand to cover her mouth, fighting back a sob. After a couple minutes of breathing through her mouth, Darcy exhaled heavily. She couldn't keep doing this. She needed to be able to use her closet, to get into the dresser. With a sharp exhale, Darcy turned, exiting the room. Down in the basement, she grabbed several collapsed boxes and a roll of packing tape, left over from her and Thor's job of putting Jane's stuff away. She carried the boxes upstairs, tape worn on her wrist like a chunky bracelet. Once in the bedroom, Darcy set up two boxes to start and began removing his stuff from the dresser. Underwear, socks, undershirts, t-shirts, etc. He preferred to hang up his button down shirts and all of his pants. She filled the first box, keeping a few of his plain t-shirts to wear around the house/sleep in, then started on the second. She removed the pants from the hangers, rolling them up to fit more of them in the box.
As Darcy pulled one of the shirts off the hanger, the hanger came free of the pole and fell to the closet floor. With a muttered curse of 'Damn. Way to go, Lewis', Darcy knelt down to pick up the hanger, a rounded corner of it pulling at a shoebox. Magnus had gotten himself a new pair of work shoes before their wedding and she frowned, wondering why he hadn't thrown it away. Setting the shirt and the hanger off to the side, Darcy opened the shoebox, finding another box, wrapped in brightly colored paper inside.
Lifting the giftwrapped box, Darcy pulled the card that was tucked beneath the ribbon free. She pulled the card from the envelope. There was an artsy bouquet of red roses on the cover that had "Happy Birthday to my Beautiful Wife" in fancy gold script beneath the bouquet. Darcy opened the card, heart thudding painfully in her chest. It was blank inside, no prewritten message. But Magnus had written something. I'm so damned lucky to have met you, you maddening, beautiful woman. Being with you makes me be a better man. I love you
Darcy exhaled with a shudder, eyes filling with tears. She tore open the paper, setting it off to the side. There was a sleek black box, and inside was a strange clear bracelet and...clip on earrings? Darcy squinted in confusion before she pulled out a little white informational booklet, learning what it really was. It was a mp3 player, essentially, with wireless headphones that hooked snugly at the top of her ears. A small sob tore its way up her throat and there was no way Darcy could have stopped it. It was, honestly, the perfect gift for her. He knew how much she adored music, so he'd gotten her this for her birthday.
Darcy just broke down, weeping into her hands.
[An unknown amount of time later, Darcy's sitting at the kitchen table, eyes red. She flicks on the phone, sniffling softly as she does. There's a tall bottle of scotch beside her. And good for her, she's using a glass.] So, my birthday's in two days. [A beat and she takes a sip of scotch.] This isn't me asking for birthday wishes. It's really, really not. I just, I wanted to say....
For those of you that knew Magnus Martinsson...you were very lucky. He may not have been very talkative, or social. But he was a great man. And I think I was the luckiest woman, because he loved me. [The tears well in her eyes and her voice cracks as she speaks. She inhales sharply through her nose and reaches for the phone, turning it off before she starts crying over the network.]