AN - Someone asked me if there an actual ship name for Coulson / Simmons? Anyone have any ideas? :)
Phil Coulson is a strong man. Been an Army Ranger, SHIELD Agent, even did field surgery on himself once or twice but... Jemma Simmon's dress... Sweet Mother of God.
If being stabbed in his heart hadn't already killed him multiple times, causing his heart to be rebuilt and enhanced in God knows what ways; this dress would have put him into cardiac arrest. And let the record show that he is grateful for whatever they had done to fix his ticker.
"You like it," she grins.
"It's... nice," he whispers, his mouth unexpectedly dry.
"I picked this one by myself," she explains, rather proudly, as she loves the stunned look on his face. "Same color as Lola."
The dress is candy apple red and it clings. Not too tightly, so she can still dance, but enough so it's obvious she's a girl. Not that Phil possesses any doubts after worshipping her physical form all blessed night long.
"She doesn't wear her paint like that," Phil admits, before he flushes. When did his collar get so damn tight?
"You're cute when you blush," Jemma blurts and then Phil turns really red. "I keep forgetting. Field agents aren't supposed to blush."
"Rule number five in the handbook," Phil quips. "Plus, I'm not used to being called cute in anything besides a paternal way, as in, isn't he cute, isn't it amazing that he's still breathing..."
Phil pauses and Jemma just takes his head in her hands before she gives him a kiss. A proper kiss that causes him to feel faint from lack of breathing.
Breathe, Coulson. Breathe.
"You're a survivor," she reminds him. "You keep fighting the good fight, Mad Eye."
You're absolutely amazing, he thinks.
Oh dear God, he's got it so bad.
If he wasn't her supervisor, if he wasn't twenty odd years her senior, if he wasn't damaged... if he was still able to love unconditionally... but he's not. Not anymore. Not since the day he signed the divorce papers.
And she deserves so much more.
But dear God, he wishes he could be all he used to be, and more.
"Let's go," she says, while wearing THAT dress combined with a very coy smile.
Fitz's apartment door opens very slowly and there is a very loud Scottish sigh when Fitz realizes that it's Ward. Again.
"Git it up yie," growled Fitz.
Ward wasn't sure what that meant, but he believes it comes close to fuck off and die.
"I come bearing a white flag and sugar mice," offers Ward. "I want to apologize again for being an idiot."
Fitz says nothing, but he shakes his head.
"I have a really great idea," Sky opines from the hallway. "I'll get chips at the Quickie Mart as we're out of snacks."
"Actually go to the bodega, they've got Sriracha crisps," Fitz requests.
"I'll order sandwiches," Skye suggests as it's almost dinner, and playing Avengers is hard work. After ordering the sandwiches, she leaves the boys alone after she gives Ward a poke and hisses, "Behave."
It's a lovely late afternoon, and it's a short walk in a safe neighborhood, so she's content to take her time. Plus the boys need to bang on their chests and piss on the floor, or some sort of garbage like that. Maybe she was a bit too complacent as a large male body bumps into her, and twirls her around. Her arm is bent behind her and he's putting sufficient pressure on her forearm for her to worry.
"Get into the car," the voice orders. "Do what I say and you won't get hurt."
She gives it her best effort and he still throws her into the back of car after divesting her of her cell phone. Easily. Professionally. She can't even open the doors as they lock. The driver gets in the car and looks into his rear view mirror. To her horror, Skye knows this man by reputation only and she was hoping never ever to meet him.
Payback is a bitch, and right now, she's his bitch. And he's grinning.
"You?" she whispers. The bastard laughs and Skye's heart sinks. "I'm so sorry about what happened! I am! I am! I didn't mean for it to happen the way it did, but seriously this isn't necessary. I thought it had been all settled!"
"Enjoy the ride. If you behave, I'll explain what's happening before we get to our destination," her driver informs her.
And the bastard closes the partition between the driver and the passenger area, leaving her enclosed in a dark area as the windows are tinted so dark that she can't see out. If that's not enough, he starts playing music. Loud seventies music and she bangs on the partition as really, this nightmare is above and beyond.
Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk; I'm a woman's man, no time to talk
Music loud and women warm; I've been kicked around since I was born...
DISCO!
His voice cuts in, "By the way, your pretty bracelet won't help."
Again, the laugh, a very amused laugh as Skye is completely and utterly screwed.
"Fuck," Skye curses. "I'm in so much trouble."
Determined to fight back, no matter how pitifully, she yells, "If you do the entire Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, I'll go crazy and you won't get any information from me. When my team finds out..."
"What makes you think I want information?" is piped into the back of the car as she feels the car pick up speed. "And your team is in shambles. I think half has been reassigned or have requested a reassignment. Really, there is no team. Don't bother to deny it. Do you think May is gonna bother to locate you?"
Skye sinks back as well, she rather doubts it. AC yes, but May, no not at all as May views her as Coulson's Biggest Mistake Ever.
In front of the car, the driver laughs. Capture the Flag was always his favorite game and he's not the one that has to listen to the Bee Gee's greatest hits. Plus a heaping serving of Gilbert O'Sullivan.
No, he was always a fan of Rave music, much to his amused disbelief of his former SO. He owes him a lot, for taking a chance on a scrawny former gang member who nobody wanted to mentor.
Ward stumbles through an apology, a rather sincere apology and Fitz just looks at him before he turns away and returns back to his game console. It seems that he had paused his game in mid-battle so he decides that's it far more important to finish the game.
"You can play Skye's character. She's the Hulk," Leo offers.
"Freudian," decides Ward.
They are busy battling Loki's minions when Melinda May arrives. She just lets herself in with a spare key and watches the boys for a minute.
"Where's Skye?" She asks. "She called me, said she was getting sandwiches and asked what I wanted. That was at least an hour ago."
"An hour?" Fitz asks, even while his character Captain America is gutted and dies a rather inglorious death.
"Let me check," Melinda offers. She looks at her cell phone and she looks concerned. "Actually, one hour and twelve minutes ago. Where is she getting them? Hoboken?"
"No, down the street," Leo says.
"Let me call her," Melinda decides. She calls, and then shakes her head. "Getting her voice mail. Both your cars are in the lot, so she didn't take one."
"Calling the sandwich shop," Ward says. He speaks to someone and then says, "I'll be by to pick them up. We got distracted. Thank you."
He hangs up, and then he announces, "She never picked them up. Their phone calls to her went to her voice mail."
Leo grabs his phone and begins to tap wildly. "Her cell phone is roughly five hundred feet from here. I also cannot detect her bracelet. She went off the grid approximately one hour ago but the alarm status was changed to bracelet malfunctioning – in custody of SHIELD. It happened so quickly that there was very little transition time. The alarm didn't sound, so nobody knows that she's off the grid. Coulson wasn't even notified."
"Cell phone first," Melinda decides. "Then we get the sandwiches."
At the boys' twin looks of stunned disbelief, she sighs, "I'm hungry. Rule #8 in the SHIELD handbook? Eat when you can. And if she's managed to slip the bracelet, we need to quickly find her as they'll blame Coulson."
"Checking surveillance cameras between here and there," Leo announces as he tweaks his console.
The three intently peer at the video and then Melinda announces. "There she is."
Skye is meandering when she bounces into a nondescript male wearing a dark hat and dark clothes. She is easily spun around, disabled and thrown into the back of a car even while the man places her cell phone on a high windowsill. Then he turns around, and flashes a gesture directly at the surveillance camera before he makes his escape.
"He knew the camera was there, and he posed?" Ward asks.
"That was a gang sign," Leo stated. "Cross referencing. It's coming back as belonging to The Maras?"
Ward looks impressed at the width and breadth of Leo's arcane knowledge while May looks dyspeptic. "Come on, we're going. Bring the computer."
"This was a professional job," Ward states. "It was quick, fast and done on a busy street and no one noticed. Though the posing with the gang signs?"
He grabs Skye's cell phone carefully from its hiden location and Leo scans it.
"Cell phone was deliberately placed so only someone that knew it was there would locate it. He didn't throw it into the rubbish bin," Leo announces. "There are smudge marks from gloves. All other prints come back to people on our team."
"What are we informing Coulson?" Ward asks.
"We're not until we have more information. He's in Boston, which is normally four hours away unless you drive like Coulson," Melinda decides.
Leo looks confused.
"He speeds," Ward explains. "That little known department in HR that fix vehicle violations? He had his own set person to handle all his tickets and his car insurance. Millie spoke at his memorial service about how he would buy her lunch at least once a week. It was rather moving; she was quite broken up because he has gotten stopped in all fifty states and fourteen foreign nations."
"Professional hit. Seemingly waiting for Skye and he knew that she'd sooner or later to the bodega," Melinda announces. "Fitz? Does the bodega have a camera?"
"Pulling it," Leo announces. After a few minutes, he shares his information, "He was in the shop. Bought plantain chips and chicharrones. Paid cash."
"He's Cuban?" Ward asks.
"Or has an appreciation for food," Leo said. "Fried pork belly?"
He grimaces. Let them think it's because of the chcharrones. Truth is he's trying to hide his fear that he'll be forced to relive his failure to protect Jemma Simmons, though this time Skye was the victim. He'll be so much happier when he's back at Sci-Ops.
Ward notices and realizes anew the damage his biting criticism had caused the Scottish engineer.
Shit, he's scared of failing.
"Good thing Fitz is here to hack the electronics," Ward announces to May, who nods her head in easy agreement. He notices that Fitz's color improves and his breathing has eased somewhat.
"Pick up the sandwiches, Ward. Ask them if they remember him," Melinda decides.
They're in Ward's truck Ford F-150 in the parking lot of the bodega and they're reviewing what they know.
"They said he was polite, professional, spoke English without an accent but he pronounced what he ordered correctly, like a native," Ward shares. "Professional hit. Possible gang member or former gang member."
"Seems to know about the bracelets and was able to change the status of the bracelet in the SHIELD database so there's no alarm," Fitz inserted. "Possibly means SHIELD is involved."
"Or it's a member of the Rising Tide who has managed to infiltrate SHIELD. Where's our buddy Miles?" May asks.
"Hong Kong," Leo announces after a brief search. "Still hasn't been in contact with very many people except for the American Consulate. It seems they're not being very helpful."
"Don't ever piss off Coulson," Melinda sagely announces.
Skye's phone rings. It lights up as RESTRICTED.
"Tracing," Fitz announces.
Jasper Sitwell attaches his burner cell phone to a voice modifier and dials.
"Hello?" a female voice asks.
"Hello agent. I have your asset. Instructions for your team will be forthcoming."
Click.
Really, if it wasn't for the fact that he owes Phil Coulson his life a half dozen times or more, he wouldn't want to be involved in Phil's team building exercise. Melinda May scares him to death. He hopes that he had left enough hints at the scene for Melinda NOT to kill him if and when they meet up, but Phil Coulson better have his ass there at the finish line. Plus, he had just used the Capture the Flag script verbatim just now.
Really, he hadn't struck a gang pose in years. Decades, even, and there were very few people that remembered that Jasper Arturo Sitwell was the product of a broken home, a life in the projects and a lot of tough love from Phil Coulson, the SHIELD agent he had successfully pick pocketed.
"Are you done yelling?" He asks the girl in the back as he pulls into a rest stop in Connecticut. The girl has a set of lungs as he's got a headache.
"NO," she shrieks.
"Read this, it's from Coulson," he says. He opens the divider just a smidge and pushes in an envelope. "I would have given it to you sooner, but it was a true pleasure listening to you curse. You have a wonderful vocabulary. Coulson must love you."
"I wish I had the night night gun," she retorts. "You wouldn't be so smug then."
"I was tempted to give you a bathroom break," is his immediate response.
She's a tiny girl, and therefore, his correlation that she has the world's smallest bladder is correct as she immediately settles down.
"Read the note, then potty break. Knock on the widow, and we'll talk. Screaming and cursing at me will deny you a potty break."
Jasper Sitwell was a firm believer in tough love. It had done wonders for him, after all.
After a few minutes, there is a tentative knock on the partition. He scrolls it down and he looks in his rear view mirror. Skye gives him a very winning smile but he notices that she's torn Coulson's note to shreds. As well as she should as Jasper had read it, including the part where Coulson informed her that he couldn't have risked his plan being revealed by actually warning her about what he had put into effect.
I would have, but you're not that good an actress, Skye. You wouldn't have fooled May. Sitwell and I go way back. He is doing me a favor, so don't be mean to him.
"May I please go to the bathroom, Agent Sitwell?"
She is all meekness and sweetness.
"Seriously, do you anticipate that I'll fall for that from you after dealing with you and your British sidekick?" He asks. "And I know which one of you was the mastermind. Don't bat your eyes and pretend that you have a sexual fetish for men who shave their heads."
"I do," she coos and Jasper just stares at her with his best don't-fuck-with-the-big-boys,-kid.
The facade fades and in its place is the scared little girl look, which he trusts not one bit. He's used a scared little boy face on quite a few people. Didn't work on Coulson, not one bit, which is why Coulson has him Capturing the Flag. Because Jasper Arturo Sitwell is a card-carrying-former-bracelet-wearing-for-three-fucking-years-Tasered-and-lived-to-weep-about-it-graduate-of-the-Phil-J.-Coulson-school-of-tough-love. While Jasper Sitwell is loyal to SHIELD, there is a deeper, personal loyalty to Coulson. Fortunately, the two loyalties have never put him at odds, but one day, it might happen.
After the Battle of New York, he had held a proper Irish wake for Coulson because Coulson had no family, no one to mourn him except for his coworkers. The team had done shots until they couldn't stand and they had continued drinking toasts to him because Phil Coulson had died, still believing in heroes, and he had died a big godamn hero.
"I don't date women who put me in the hospital," he snaps.
"What?" she says. Her eyes twitch, which mean she wasn't anticipating that response.
"Concussion. Thank you. I was flat on my back with a migraine for three days thanks to you two," he retorts. "Now, you understand what's happening. Coulson has decided that he needs your team to remember that they are a team by forcing everyone to play Capture the Flag. He's taking a rather large risk by you being the flag, because if you run, Coulson will look very bad. I don't want that, and I'm sure you won't either. He's taking enough of a risk on you."
"Understood, Agent Sitwell," she agrees. He trusts her response because she's loyal to Coulson.
"Jasper," he insists. "I'll walk you to the rest room. Since you will be out in the open and not in this shielded car, it will display your location thanks to your bracelet. Since your team is actively searching for you, they'll think that it's a momentary blip. Try not to take too long, we don't want them getting suspicious that they're being played."
"I hate the nanny," she says, even while she glares at the silver bracelet.
"You may find that once you stop wearing it, you'll wish you were wearing it again," he informs her. "I wore mine for three years until I earned the right for its removal. Once it was removed, my SO wasn't always sure where I was. It felt odd to be on my own. It was exhilarating and terrifying."
"Who was your SO?" she asks.
"Coulson."
"Did you get a trace?" Ward asks.
"I84, Danbury Connecticut," Fitz announces.
"Buckle up," Melinda announces, as she guns the motor and takes a hard right out of the parking lot. "I know a few short cuts."
The rag tag team is silent for some time, intent on locating Skye when Leo announces, "Bracelet is reading that they are currently at a rest station on I-91 in Connecticut. Trying to piggy back into the cameras at the rest station."
"He's trying to avoid Hartford traffic," Ward chimes in.
"Bracelet's location is no longer transmitting. However, I think I've narrowed down the possible vehicles. It looks like a SHIELD transport vehicle, which explains the shielding," is Fitz's input.
May pulls into the breakdown lane and motions that she wishes to review the video. She stares at it and then shakes her head. Pulling out her cell phone, she hits speed dial before putting it on speaker.
One ring, two rings, three rings and then a male voice answers.
"Hello," says the voice. "You've reached my voice mail. I am currently unable to come to the phone, because I've been abducted by aliens for clinical research. Please leave a message and I'll return it as soon as I make my escape."
"Coulson. Call me. Immediately," May snaps.
She dials another number and a female voice answers, "Hello. Revere Hotel, may I help you?"
"Phil Coulson's room please. I believe he has a suite?" Melinda asks.
"There is no one here by that name, Ma'am."
"Jemma Simmons?" is her next attempt.
"I'm afraid neither people are staying here," the front desk staff states. "Have you tried..."
"St. John. Is there a Thomas St. John registered for a suite?" Melinda requests.
"Transferring," the front desk announces just before their call is transferred to another voice mail.
"FLAG," May snaps into the phone before she disconnects. "Skye's fine. Coulson may not be."
"What?" Fitz and Ward both ask in real confusion.
"This Skye-napping is defying any... any... rational explanation. Hartford? And the 'Hello agent. I have your asset. Instructions for your team will be forthcoming'? Agent. Asset. Team? SHIELD prisoner transport? Is Coulson playing Capture the Flag? I think this is just so you two can prove to each other that you can work together, but I'm not completely sure," May admits.
Jasper permits her to sit in the front seat so Skye gratefully agrees.
"No more Bee Gees," she insists.
"Coulson suggested it. Said you hate disco," Jasper admits while he gives her a bright smile.
"This Capture the Flag business, what if they don't realize?" Skye slowly asks. What if Fitz doesn't realize, and he worries?
"I followed the handbook to the letter. Used the codes words, followed the schedule for communication, so they should realize," Sitwell advises. "The plan is that the entire team meets tomorrow night in Boston for dinner."
"Coulson better pay," Skye dryly states.
"Knowing May, he will pay," Sitwell agrees.
He dances with Jemma at a happening spot that Pepper Potts had recommended a lifetime or more ago. She's light on her feet and he teaches her a few more advanced steps.
"Did you make reservations for dinner?" She asks after they're too tired to dance.
"No, figured we could just find a place," he admits.
She whispers something in his ear and he gives her a very crooked smile before he assures her that yes, they could skip dinner and go back to their hotel room.
