The Funeral of Agent Chen (Part 1)

Disclaimer: all "Agents" characters belong to Marvel™ and Whedon.

All "Primeval" characters – to Impossible Pictures™.

Anybody else is mine.

Note: this story contains spoilers for the official series and my previous "Agents" stories.

On the Agents' plane...

"So, where are we going this time?" Skye was asking faux-idly even as she was working on something on her laptop (or just pretending to). "Sahara? Siberia? Swazulu-land?"

"No, no, and why Swazulu-land?"

"Because they're tropics and start with the letter 'S', just as the previous two do," Skye said calmly. "And does the last part mean 'yes'?"

"No, it means 'no', right?" Simmons replied, who had been arguing with Skye to begin with, turned to Coulson. "We're not going to the tropics, right? Because we need specialized equipment to work in the tropics that we don't currently have-"

"No, we're not, agent Simmons," Coulson reassured the young woman. "We're actually going to London."

"To Canada?" Skye said incredulously. "Well, I guess it is friendlier and marginally less cold than Siberia."

There was a pause. "Canada?" Coulson for once sounded almost incredulous. "Why Canada?"

"Because London is a city in the Canadian province of Ontario," Skye explained matter-of-factly. "Or a town – it's hard to tell the difference between a city and a town in the north."

"And you know this how?" Fitz joined the discussion (after 'subtly' looking up the Canadian town in question on the Internet).

"When I lived in a van," Skye blithely replied, "I decided to go and take a look at Canada's Niagara Falls – a breathtaking sight, BTW. Sadly, at that moment in time I also had a GPS of such quality, that if any of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s vehicles had it, its manufacturer would be arrested as a purposeful saboteur or a malignant incompetent in no time. Needless to say, I saw much more of rural Ontario than I would've liked."

"I see," Coulson thoughtfully said, but did not elaborate on what exactly he saw. "Well, you can allay your fears to rest – we're actually going to original London in England, to attend agent Chen's funeral."

There was a pause as everyone thought over this piece of information, and then, atypically, Simmons broke the silence. "But why, sir? I thought that agent Chen was from Hong Kong!"

"He was, and so's his family," Coulson patiently explained. "However, they are living in England instead. Yes, living, for they are civilians."

There was a pause. "Sir," Ward spoke-up carefully – he was even less used to arguing with Coulson than Simmons was."If this is a civilian funeral, then do we have any business being there?"

"Yes. We're the official S.H.I.E.L.D. representatives," Coulson said calmly.

"We are?" Ward said thoughtfully.

"Yes. We volunteered," Coulson said in the same calm tone of voice that usually killed any kind of argument, even from Skye (though she appeared to be somewhat resistant to it on occasion).

"Right. How this will go?" Ward, surprisingly, did not fully desist either. "Sorry, I have attended a civilian funeral before."

"Well, maybe Skye, while she lived in a van, saw something along these lines," Fitz said sarcastically before Coulson could: atypically for the duo, both he and Simmons with the situation.

"Sure did," Skye nodded calmly. "When I was living in a van, for a while I was located between two cemeteries, both rather well-used. Even from outside it was clearly seen that this is a very ceremonial affair and if there are any tensions between the family, friends and co-workers of the deceased, they can come out during or after the burial making it very uncomfortable instead. Sir," she turned to Coulson, "just what are the odds that the Chens will tell us to get lost or make a scene?"

"They can make whatever they want – as an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Chen requires presence of S.H.I.E.L.D. at his funeral, and in this case it's us," Coulson flatly replied.

There was a dink.

"Excuse me, I need to go and talk to our pilot," Coulson said in his more usual tone of voice and left.

"Skye?" Simmons spoke up as soon as the senior agent was gone from the lounge, "can we go to my place and talk? Please?"

"Very well," Skye nodded, seeing the urgency in the other woman's voice. "Let's go."

They left.

"Poor Simmons," Fitz muttered to Ward. "She's probably already feeling overwhelmed by the thought of running any of those arrogant London scientists, with their fancy way of speaking English and jokes about kilts and uncooked haggis. Idiots! What do they know about haggis I ask you?"

Ward sighed. Obviously, Simmons was not the only one concerned about London scientists - but he kept quiet and let Fitz rant.

Sometimes even Ward got his social cues right.

/

"And how are you feeling?" Coulson asked May as he joined the other agent in the cockpit. "As happy as usual, I reckon?"

"Yes. The fogs and dampness of London is just what we need after the sands of Sahara and the snows of Siberia," May said calmly. "Sir, just how well did you think this through? England is-"

"Completely," Coulson said finally. "I've did all the paperwork, I got all the bases covered... and you're not taking a sniper rifle with you."

May's look was especially pointed. "Yes, I know that there might be giants – there are rumors of more trouble circulating around NYC and the like – but we're not taking a sniper rifle or any other sort of weaponry. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't an organized crime syndicate, you know... what?"

"James Lester has called. You know, from the ARC?" May said calmly.

"I remember Lester and the research center," Coulson carefully replied. "I didn't expect him to call just because we're in town-"

"Yes, well, he had too – there was an ARC-related emergency on our airstrip, so we are able to land only now. Tell our crew that we're beginning to land now."

"There was an ARC-related emergency?" Coulson frowned. "Get me Lester-"

"We're beginning to land," May said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can talk to Lester in person soon. Now buckle up and tell the others."

Reluctantly, Coulson complied.

TBC