A/N: So, when I hit 500 followers on tumblr, I threw a #500FollowerBash and asked people for prompts to fill. They are all filled on tumblr (my URL is kittyorleans), but I thought I should put them in a place that's easier to find. So here they are again. These are all of the AoS prompts.

Prompt #1: traina doing literally anything - by antoinetriplett

((spoilers through 2.05))

Currently Agent Antoine Triplett had one simple job: don't let Raina screw anything or anyone up.

Unfortunately, this was easier said than done.

She was a bit of a loose end now that the last disaster was over, no longer useful and nominally on the right side, but still very dangerous. They couldn't keep her with the team. And they weren't Hydra – or evil, so they couldn't get her killed. Someone had suggested sticking her in a basement, which had been mostly a joke, but Ward had thrown a hissy fit anyway.

Hissy fit. That's what Skye said. Those two had a long way to go.

But the conclusion they came to was that Raina needed a bodyguard. Someone to make sure she didn't get killed (so she would be comfortable leaving their base), and also to protect everyone else from her. Someone trained for the field – so not Fitzsimmons, and not Mack. Someone who could be trusted implicitly, so not Lance or Ward. And not Skye, because Raina still looked at her like she was some sort of present. And not May, because she wouldn't leave Coulson. Which left very few people, and Bobbi was done babysitting, so Trip got the job.

Trip hadn't minded too much. He was a specialist who did as he was told, and no job was too small. Coulson trusted him to leave the team and be okay, and that meant something. However, he did figure this would be an easy job, consisting mostly of him kicking back in a room next to Raina's and rereading some of his favorite books.

But it turned out, Raina was more of a handful than his three-year old niece. She couldn't talk to the hot dog vendor without trying to lead him into his own destruction or play him somehow.

She actually walked away with a dress that a storeowner gave her on his second day of assignment. The storeowner was crying.

The next day, when he was walking down the street, she fell into stride with her.

"Agent Triplett," she said pleasantly, cocking her curly head. "I thought you were going to remain at a safe distance."

"I was," Trip told her, his eyes on the skyline. "But it occurred to me that maybe it would be safer if I just walked next to you."

"Safer for me?"

"Safer for the rest of the world."

Raina smiled gently. "You don't trust me."

"Hell no," said Trip, and he laughed, showing off his bright teeth. "Should I?"

"Probably not," she agreed. "But I trust you." Trip was looking for snipers, for someone ready to attack. How exhausting, she thought idly, to be protector of two opposing forces at once.

"You do? Why?"

"I think you're trustworthy. Oh, look, flowers." She stopped and smiled at the woman who was selling. Trip pulled up short and reached into his pocket.

"I've got it," he said, pulling out his wallet. "How much?" he asked the lady, flashing his teeth. Raina pointed to the one she wanted, and the lady handed them to her, muttering the price.

Trip handed her a bill and they walked on.

"You didn't need to do that," Raina said. "I wasn't going to do anything you wouldn't like."

"Sure you weren't," Trip responded good-naturedly, and she buried her face into the flowers.

/

"She leapt over the bar and punched the bartender in the face, which would have been great if he'd actually been Hydra, but it turned out he really was just a bartender," Trip finished with a laugh. "And that was the second time she got us kicked out of a bar."

Raina pulled her dry cleaning down from the door and walked back inside. "You have a lot of stories about your friends," she noted serenely. Usually Trip would be in his own room, but yesterday she'd received a threatening note from some small operation she'd screwed over a while ago, and so Trip was sticking close. Unless she was showering or sleeping, she was in the same room as him.

"Of course," he said, eyes on her as she wandered into the kitchenette. "You haven't told any about yours."

She laughed. It was a light, tinkling sound. Not hearty, like Skye's or May's, but assured and collected. He kind of liked it. "It's sweet of you to think I have friends."

"You don't?"

"No."

What a sad thing, Trip thought, but he didn't respond. After all, what could he say? We're your friends? No, they weren't. Even he didn't care about her; he was just on a mission.

"Why are you so friendly, Agent Triplett?" she asked as she reached for the fridge.

"I don't like to be alone," he responded honestly.

It was Raina's turn to think about that. What would it be like, she wondered, to not be alone? Her hand closed around the handle of the refrigerator door as Trip looked up from his lap. His eyes narrowed.

"Don't open that!" he ordered, leaping up and vaulting over the counter. As the door came open, he knocked her off her feet. He was on top of her, covering her, when the explosion went off.

/

If she'd been standing in front of the open fridge door, she would have been killed. But between Trip and the now-destroyed door, she was barely bruised.

Wriggling her way out from underneath the agent, she viewed the damage. She'd have to switch rooms, of course, and request that someone find out who had just tried to kill her.

"How inconvenient," she said to herself.

She looked at the unconscious agent. She reached for the phone – he would want her to call the ambulance, she assumed.

/

A week later, when the bump on Trip's head had mostly receded and the bruises were fading, he asked about her fascination with all of the weird alien artifacts.

"You're researching one now, aren't you?"

She shrugged, looking at the computer screen. "I started out as very little," she said. "Basically nothing. But I'm going to change. I'm excited to see what I will become. Aren't you?"

Trip sank into a chair. "You saying it with those big brown doe eyes, people must think even crazy things like that make sense, huh?"

Raina looked up at him in surprise.

"See, there we go." His teeth were as blinding as ever. Raina's face felt warm.

/

"I wasn't going to hurt the man," Raina said as Trip practically dragged her away.

"He probably wouldn't agree with that statement," Trip said, almost amused. "We're going back to the hotel early today."

"You say you want to protect people from me," she said, almost pouting. "Why? Do you really just like people so much?"

Trip shrugged. "I suppose."

/

"Pizza?" Trip asked in something like indignation a week later.

"I'm hungry."

"Why don't I cook something instead?"

"You cook?"

"Very well."

"You're a medic, a specialist, a bookworm, and you cook?"

"I knit too."

/

Trip had worked near Raina for over a month now, and he'd never heard her scream. All the same, he knew what it sounded like when he heard it from the next room.

Maybe he'd been careless, letting her alone for this long, but it had been weeks with no word and no excitement, according to Coulson.

He might have made a huge mistake.

Trip was next door in the blink of an eye, gun in his hand. He threw open the door and jumped back to avoid the peppering of gunfire.

"Agent Triplett?" called Raina's soft voice from behind the kitchenette counter.

"It's me," he said.

"There are three of them."

Trip fired several shots for cover and ducked into the room, hiding behind the counter near the door – and indeed, there was Raina, alone and curled into herself.

One man screamed. A hit.

"Are you okay?" he asked Raina.

"I don't think I'm injured."

He threw her his cell phone. "Call Coulson for backup. I'll be right back."

He ducked from one piece of furniture to the next, but he figured it was the gunfire he wanted to stop – this hotel room was hardly bullet proof. He took a deep breath and got ready to run.

By the time he breathed again, he'd winged the second man, who fell to the floor, and he'd swiped up, knocking the gun away from the last enemy standing.

They wore all black, he noted as the last man landed a punch on his face, causing Trip to lose his grip on his own firearm. Masks, too, he thought as he punched the man and dived for his fallen partner's gun. He grunted when his hand was kicked aside.

Grabbing his opponent's leg, he knocked the man down. His head didn't hit the ground in a way that was satisfactory, so Trip grabbed it and slammed it down again.

He grabbed one gun in his hand, and quickly jumped up and grabbed his own. "Don't move," he ordered as he pointed one at the only man still capable of attacking. The other gun he pointed at the other living assailant – though that guy didn't look like he was going to get up anytime soon.

"Raina," Trip said, "grab the other two guns. But please, don't shoot anyone with them. Just put them down."

She smiled at his weary tone, putting the phone down on the counter as she came out of hiding.

"Coulson said he doesn't want to risk exposing anyone in case this was a trap, but he's sending us help."

"Great."

"You're very good at your job, Agent Triplett," she said, scooping up the guns – and for once actually doing as she was told.

He glanced her way once in mild surprise. It wasn't the compliment – Raina was honest, not a flatterer, but she'd tell you if you did something right. It was just that it suddenly occurred to him – he hadn't thought about this being a mission at all in the past few hours, and especially not in the past few minutes. Raina had been in trouble. He had come to help.

"I'm glad you haven't been killed," said Raina politely, and coming from her, he felt like that actually meant a lot.