Chapter 6: "Dirty Tricks"

September 3

District Seven

Skye had been right; Logan had lost barely anything that she'd taught him, and instead of spending any time on real refreshers, she was more or less showing him the newest system hacks that she'd been able to use — including the one she'd used to hack the list of people being used against the victors. Not that he needed to know that's what she'd used it for.

Logan was running through the program she liked to test him with that morning, and both of them were sitting on the couch in the living room with coffee when Skye happened to glance out the window. "Wait a minute," she said.

"Did I screw somethin' up already?" Logan asked, already searching for his mistake with a little frown. "Gotta be a record."

"No, not you," Skye said, moving to the window with her coffee in hand. "What ... I mean. It was green out there when I got here."

"Oh," he said before he glanced out the window. He shook his head and went back to what she'd told him to work on. "That. It wasn't all green. The green's pines, mostly. It was around thirty percent for everything else. Usually turns color quick. Should stick around for a few weeks or so before the trees drop everything at the first hard frost."

"But … the slow build is even better," she argued.

"We don't get a slow build very often," he said, glancing up at her. "Gets cold too fast for that. Or the snow comes early."

"The weather up here is something else," she said with a little smirk.

"Yeah, we're in a rush for our fires and snow," he muttered, not really paying her much mind.

"Don't tell Coulson that. I'm 98% sure he scheduled this thing when he did so that there wasn't a chance of us getting snowed in again. You know, after last time when I was drunk in front of Nick Fury," she said.

He looked up at her over the top of the computer. "Did you get in trouble for that?"

"Not as much as I probably should have," Skye admitted. "I think Coulson was too entertained to really get mad at me."

He frowned a bit and nodded. "Next time, we'll have to get Fury drunk too." He said it as if it was the most simple, easiest solution.

"Oh yeah. Dream vacation. Getting the director of SHIELD drunk with me," Skye deadpanned.

"He's alright after he's had a few," he said. "Takes about four of 'em for him to start to relax."

"How do you even know that?" she asked, her eyes wide for a moment.

"Wasn't just Ogun I was taking lessons from," he told her before he shrugged almost to himself. "And once in a while, Nick needed to relax. I'd talk him into the first two … the rest went on their own."

She stared at him before, all at once, she broke into a grin and laughed. "I can't even decide what my favorite part of that is. It's all... " She shook her head, laughed again, and took a long sip of coffee. "I guess I never pictured you being on drinking buddy terms with the director, all things considered."

"Nick's … Nick." He let out a sigh. "Easier to drink with than Viper and Creed."

"Yeah, that's not a real hard list to beat," she pointed out, one eyebrow raised. "And those are just the ones you know that I know about."

"Hell, you probably got a better list than I do," Logan rumbled before he hit the last few keys and sat back. "Done."

She leaned over his shoulder to check his work for a moment, still grinning to herself, before she simply nodded and straightened up again. "And with that, you can officially get into Nebula's files. Congratulations."

"Ugh. I don't want to get into Nebula's anything." He frowned and turned to look at her. "Why are you in Nebula's unspeakables anyhow?"

"Oh," she said, turning a bit pink. "I have this … bad habit of hacking stuff I'm not supposed to when I'm ticked off. It's sort of relaxing. And these last Games…" She trailed off. "Anyway, I knew she was the one who took over from Selene — well, her and Gamora — and I thought I'd like to throw a wrench in that, you know?"

Logan let out a long breath and then sort of melted into the couch. "Yeah. How'd that work out for you?"

"Pretty well, actually," Skye said, sounding proud as she drew herself up. "I found plenty of info I was looking for, her list of people she's threatening… plus her clientele list..."

"Current for this last couple months of creeps too?" he asked.

She nodded. "I couldn't find the records from before she and her brother killed Selene, but yeah, everything after that, I've got it."

"Hill has a good list, I know," he said quietly.

"Yeah, Coulson told me to send her any of the names I can decrypt. I have all the files, but the names are encoded, so that's been my 'relaxing' project."

"Too bad not all of 'em are on the records," he said under his breath, thinking of how that party had gone down with the other young victors.

She glanced at him for a moment with a totally open expression. "You know… I told Coulson who was being threatened so we can get them out the second everything goes down," she told him.

"Good," he said before he covered his face with his hands and let out a breath. He sounded perfectly relieved to hear it. "None of those people should have been on the radar. I've been adding names to Hill's list that won't show up otherwise, too. Off the record dealings, crap like that."

"Yeah, Hill's pretty vigilant about keeping it up. You should have seen the look on her face when I told her I had the encrypted records," Skye agreed. "She wants to nail these guys. And I don't blame her."

"She is nailing them," he said with a neutral expression.

"Already?" Skye was honestly surprised to hear it.

"Oh yeah," he said, nodding. "Four or five fell off the list during the first couple days or so when we got back to the Capitol."

"Good." Skye nodded. "I've seen how she has it organized — worst offenders at the top. It's too bad how high-profile some of them are, or they'd have been hit by now too."

"Yeah, she wants them to know what's coming for them," he said before he decided it was time to change the direction of the conversation. "Enough shop talk. Now what do we do?"

She glanced around the room for a moment. "Well, I've run you through a week's worth of courses in about three days? So as long as you don't rat me out, I'm totally fine with being done with this portion of the teaching tradeoff. You'll be fine in the field. You haven't lost anything."

"Then it's your call. Dirty tricks, lies, or being sneaky?" He stopped and frowned her way. "I don't have nothin' nice to teach you, apparently."

"Well, you taught me how to play poker," she pointed out with a small smile. "We could start there if you want something nice. It's not a bad practice for lies."

"Pretty sure we just covered that I'm not capable of anything nice, but ... ladies' choice."

Skye frowned at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked him outright.

Logan paused and held her gaze for a moment before he decided to move on. "Not a thing. I'll get the cards," he said, ignoring her question outright and heading over to the kitchen to grab a deck. When he returned, he was already shuffling them. "What are we betting?"

She watched him for a moment, her eyes still narrowed, before she finally shrugged. "I did bring some money with me this time. Unless you want to wait til later and play for drinks," she offered, this time with a little smirk.

"Your call," he insisted, slowly shuffling the cards. "You're the one that's gotta learn to bluff, and I'm not gonna keep your money anyhow."

"I thought you said the fun was in the ante," she countered.

"It is," he agreed before he laid the deck down in front of her finally. "When you know how to bluff."

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him before she cut the deck. "Five card draw?"

"Izzat a question or a statement?"

"Just asking if that's what you want to play," she said. "Since I got to choose the ante and the game."

"That's what I want to play," he said with a little smirk.

She wasn't sure what to do with that smirk or that answer, so she made a face at him and dealt out the cards. "Is this the deck with the snowmen?" she asked over the top of her cards.

"You tell me," he said. "You're the one that put 'em there."

"You're the one that got the deck," she countered.

"They're both blue, so I couldn't tell you until one of us finds an ace." He picked up his cards and kept on smirking.

"I'd've kept them separate," Skye said. "But that's just me. Don't want to accidentally reveal my hand because I forgot which deck was which."

"Ya shouldn't give your hand away anyhow," he pointed out.

"If you taught me right, that much is true," she said with a little sly smile.

He shook his head at her then let out a breath and clicked his tongue. "Guess I didn't teach you well enough."

She smirked at him. "Alright, tough guy. Whatcha got?"

"Two small pair," he said as he laid his cards down.

She laid hers down with an easy shrug. "Ace high," she said, and there was her little snowman drawing on the ace of clubs.

"I was wonderin' if it was the snowman or the reindeer."

"Would you have known if I hadn't said anything?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. You smirked more," he admitted.

"Yeah, Coulson says I'm lousy at negotiations when I get what I want," Skye admitted.

"So all you were shootin' for was an ace?" he asked with a little frown. "Low standards."

"I just wanted to know if you'd kept the cards," she admitted.

"Perfectly good deck," he said with a shrug.

"With snowmen and reindeer on the aces."

"Better 'n Puck's deck," he said, and before she could ask, he leaned forward a bit and started to shuffle again. "You don't want to know."

She paused for a moment and then shook her head. "Lumberjacks. I can guess."

He smiled a bit wider. "Yeah. We're pretty predictable."

"Not all of you," she countered, biting her lower lip the slightest bit. "Some of you are pretty much the opposite of predictable."

"Sure," he said as he dealt the next hand. "The ones with permanent brain damage are trouble."

"And the really short ones that teach girls how to throat punch," she said, still grinning with her teeth over her bottom lip.

He set the rest of the cards down and held her gaze for a long moment. "Like I said …"

"You're a bad liar, Logan. At least tell me a lie that I can't prove wrong," she said. "How are you supposed to teach me how to bluff if you suck at this?"

He chuckled as he picked up his hand. "I do not suck at this," he said, shaking his head.

"You so do," she insisted.

"Believe what you want," he said, "But tell me, darlin' — this guy you hit, was it the one you wanted to hit?"

She nodded. "He tried to grab me, but …" She shrugged openly and let the sentence fall.

"Holdin' you too tight?" he asked, the cards momentarily forgotten. "'Cause that's what creeps do when they think you know enough to fight back."

She paused and blinked at him for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah, but I played dead weight before I hit him."

"Not bad," he said nodding. "Won't work on 'im again, though."

"Well, I think I killed him. Maybe."

"See—" He was nearly wincing as he tipped his head to the side. "—it's the 'maybe' that's got me thinkin' you didn't finish the job."

"I was sort of running from a lot of other soldiers at the time," she admitted.

"I know, I'm not criticizing," he said. "But if you're not sure he's dead, consider him alive and pissed off."

"Well, that's … disconcerting," she said.

"Paranoid, yeah, I've been told," he said with an easy shrug. "Also means I'm gonna be more thorough in taking them out." He leaned a little further forward and let his voice drop lower. "Cause the guys I'm going after, you don't really want 'em pissed off with a vendetta."

She stared at him for a moment. "That… is actually not a bad plan," she had to admit.

"Next time he gets a hold of you — and he'll try," he said. "I want you to lean as far forward as you can, then bash him in the face with the back of your head."

"You really think—"

"It works," Logan promised. "If not on that guy, then another one."

"Is there just… some kind of neon sign over my head about creeps?"

"You're going to be fighting Hydra, right?" he asked. "They'll do the same to anyone on your team. Well..." He paused and tipped his head to the side for a second. "Maybe not May. But it's not personal. It's more about the size advantage most of 'em will have."

"It kinda feels that way," she admitted. "At least with this guy."

"With that guy, it is personal," he said. "He needs his ass kicked."

"I did shoot him four times," she pointed out.

"Nicer than I'd have been."

"But it's not personal for you," she said.

"No, I'm just mean," he admitted. "And I don't like when guys stalk women like that. Pisses me off."

"So you're a softie," she couldn't help but tease him. "An old-fashioned softie."

"Yeah," he said looking entirely unamused. "Very old-fashioned in making a point to see how many teeth I can fit down some handsy bastard's throat."

"Yeah, that's it, I'm taking you with me if that guy ever comes back from the dead," she decided.

"Just point him out, darlin'. He won't be long for this world."

She grinned at him. "Right. Awesome. It's a date. A really, really weird date killing the undead creep," she said, though she kept losing steam on her smile the more she spoke, wondering if her mouth had just gotten her in trouble again.

"Relax," he said soothingly. "By the time I've taught you half of my dirty tricks, you'll be more 'n ready to blow his doors off on your own. You won't need me at all."

"So…. that's a no on the weird killer date then."

"Didn't say that. Murder date is on. But you'll do the work, and I'll hold your purse," he said with a smirk.

That got a huge, beaming smile in response as she almost absently twisted a lock of hair, then seemed to realize she was grinning like that. She stopped just as quickly and silently dealt out five cards apiece.

September 5

Tahiti Wing

It was a lucky coincidence for Clint that he happened to be on his way out of medical — a quick surveillance mission had ended up a little hairier than he'd expected, and he might have fallen into a dumpster — when Bobbi arrived in the Tahiti Wing through the entrance by the med bay. She'd gone back to Two for a few days, and he broke into a huge grin when he saw that she was back.

"Hey, Bob," he called out and rushed over to wrap her up like he'd normally do when she had been gone for so long — but instead, he got a stiff arm in the shoulder and a look that he had simply never seen her turn on him before. "Woah, hey, what's up?" he asked, taking a step back when he saw the wide eyes and nearly panicked look on her face.

"You can't right now," she told him seriously. "Not until after Simmons clears me. I was undercover—"

"And you can't kiss anybody because…." He looked her over for a moment and then shook his head when he figured it out. "You know what, Bob, your job takes all the joy out of life sometimes."

"In this case, you're right."

"Hey, do you think you could say that again in front of more witnesses?" he asked her with a teasing, crooked grin, because she looked so tired and upset that she clearly needed to cheering up. "And is there any reason I can't at least hug you? Kiss your cheek? Something?"

"No kissing. But … you can go with me if you want," she said. "Simmons is the quickest, and she can fix this."

He watched her for a moment with a frown before he took her hand and gave it a big squeeze. "Alright, let's go find out if its terminal," he joked, then paused. "Unless it is, in which case, that's my bad."

"It is — just not for me," she said. "I promise, I'll explain ... I … I'm going to need to tell Simmons what it is… or … you'll understand.'

He cocked his head to the side, not sure he would understand, considering Bobbi's biochemical expertise, but he went with her down to the med bay and flagged Simmons for her anyway. "Hey, Bobbi'd like you to fix something for her real quick," he called out.

Simmons' head came up, and she looked between the two blondes for a moment, her gaze resting on Bobbi's expression for a good long time before she very quickly gathered up her things to usher them into a smaller room off of the lab.

"I need you to swab my lips," Bobbi said once they were in a more private area with Simmons. "It turns out Viper has a unique delivery system for her personal mix of poisons, and they are potent."

"Your… lips?" Simmons repeated.

"Lipstick," Bobbi said. "I know most of it is off — I just couldn't stand to wear it — but I know … there has to be trace amounts, and even though I'm immune to it in reasonable doses ... could you please just swab me? You can use what you find to come up with an antidote for when we need it — and we will need an antidote."

"Right then," Simmons said, quickly getting to work, though she kept glancing at Bobbi sideways as she did so. "Lipstick… that's…. And you were wearing it?"

"She had me help her test it," Bobbi explained. "The guy was on the ground in less than ten seconds."

"Oh." Simmons eyes were wide as she quickly nodded and rushed off with the swab to run it through her analyses.

Clint waited long enough for the door to close behind Simmons before he crossed the room to Bobbi and jumped up onto the seat with her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he wrapped her up from behind. "So, after you kill Viper — you know, after you have all the intel you need from her? — you and I should disappear for a while. You need a vacation," he told her.

"I don't even know if that guy died or not," she admitted.

"You sure I can't kiss your… I could kiss your hand or your neck or…something. You need it," Clint said, frowning as he looked her over. "This whole thing — you hate it so much. When is Fury going to pull the plug and let you walk away from it?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It sounds like she has solid ties to Hydra. We just … we're not even sure what this organization is, or what they have planned."

"If I wasn't dead, I'd sign up to see you more," he said, only half joking. "You could use the backup. Poison lipstick. C'mon, Bob. That's nuts."

"She is nuts," Bobbi agreed. "She's got more than one lipstick, too. One that kills and another that incapacitates. I don't know which one I have."

He frowned for a long moment before he nestled into her neck and pulled her in tightly. "Sorry, Bob," he muttered.

"With some luck, I'll be able to get away from Viper quickly," she said.

"Yeah? What do you need — and can I do anything to help?" he asked, picking his head up with an almost hopeful expression.

"I'll tell Fury that I'm formally requesting you as backup if it becomes an issue."

He nodded at that and went back to pulling her to him tightly, just to reassure her that she had someone on her side.

A short while later, Simmons came in, looking disturbed but not tense like she was when she left. "It's a milder toxin," she said. "It won't kill, even if taken internally — instead, it should produce a simple paralysis." She smiled at both of them for a moment. "So, good news! It's not as bad as you thought." She picked up a few things from the counter and brought them to her. "However, I would still strongly recommend cleaning up anything that you believe you may have touched with your lips before any practical testing of how non-toxic you are."

"Thanks, Simmons," Clint cut in before Bobbi could get there, already taking her hand with a crooked grin. "C'mon, Bob. Let's get you cleaned up." He leaned in a little closer to whisper his next words. "And maybe, if we have time, we'll do a little research."