"Anything interesting happen in the Hub?" Fitz asked. He plainly thought he had the big, bad adventure and while Jemma was loathe to steal his thunder, she had quite possibly destroyed her SHIELD career. She was in need of support from someone who understood her livelihood. (And while it would have been lovely to confide in Felix, she couldn't help the nagging feeling that he was FBI or CIA, and probably was a very senior agent who would thoroughly disapprove of a junior agent shooting him in his chest EVEN IF WAS FOR A VERY GOOD CAUSE!)
"I shot a superior office in the chest!" She nervously admitted.
Oh, dear, she sounded as though she was bragging!
"Oh dear God, Simmons, why did you do that?" Fitz protested.
"It was just with an icer. He should be fine! And I did it for you and Ward."
Fitz got huffy and did his indignant bit where he puts his hands on his hips, so she decided to leave the lab. Naturally, she couldn't make a clean escape. No, she ran into May, who informed her that she needed to speak with Coulson.
She knocked on his office door and received a curt 'ENTER'. As Simmons entered the office, a chastened Skye exited. The two comrades in crime didn't acknowledge each other as 'Dad' was looking particularly fierce.
"Hello, sir. I seem to be making a habit of this," she blurted.
"Yes, you are. This is two incidents of insubordination in the last two months, Simmons. And I'm detecting a pattern with you. First the fire extinguisher and now the Icer. All this time, I thought Skye was my problem child. Simmons, Agent Sitwell wishes to talk to you tomorrow at two. He'll send you the meeting invite and you will meet with him."
She flinched.
"I'm sure he's unhappy," Coulson stated as he tried to soften the blow. "Talk to him, explain the situation and hope for the best. For now, you're technically suspended until you talk to Sitwell. Do you have a place to stay tonight? I can arrange housing for you."
It was a breach of protocol, because Coulson was only supposed to arrange housing for his team, not a suspended member.
"I'm fine," she lied. "I'll stay at the Ramada. I'll grab a few things and leave."
"Ramada?" Phil Coulson wrinkled his nose in pure elitist disapproval. "I know a bed and breakfast."
Felix Blake's burner cell rang so he tried to juggle it and two tacos he had just purchased from the taco trunk. It had been an extremely long work week and he had received permission not to work tomorrow because well he HAD put in 80+ hours this week; oh and the previous week also. Plus Jasper Sitwell was all wounded Hispanic male pride because Jemma Simmons had shot him with an ICER and Felix preferred not to deal with him until Jasper calmed down.
As the fine result of multiple Russian couplings, Felix understood that his reactions were completely cultural. If he checked off the traditional Russian values and core beliefs, he'd probably rate 90%+ for the Russian personality. Love of children (1/2 check for Fyodor), respect for the old (check!), sense of humor (Double check as he believed he was hysterically funny! Shame no one else did), strong people-orientation (Check), importance of friendship, generosity, pride, patriotism, love of literature and arts, nostalgia, self-sacrifice, caution, collectivism, pessimism and cynicism. (Check, check, check). So yes, Sitwell's reaction was completely understandable based on Felix's review of Sitwell's cultural, social and economic abstracts. He'd be screaming for Simmons' head on a platter if she had ice'd… sorry… nite nited him.
And if Jasper Sitwell had stepped into the bathroom, and threatened him with starring in a music video for the Holiday Party in order to protect Simmons, he'd direct his rage toward Sitwell, not Simmons. Didn't mean Simmons was safe from Sitwell, but he couldn't do anything outrageous because Fury's Special Snowflake Coulson would be watching.
"Hey! This is completely unexpected," he said, when he recognized the phone number. "You in town?"
"Yes," Jemma admitted. "Can I crash at your place?"
"You ok? You sound upset."
"Oh, it's a long story and it's work related. They wanted miniature horses, they got Shetlands. My Boss's Boss is angry and I really just don't want to talk about it." Her voice was shaky as she couldn't lie to save her life.
While he wanted to reassure that everything would be ok, it would blow his cover.
"I understand. Hey, but nobody died, right?" He asked.
There was a soft, unsteady laugh. But when she spoke, her voice was more controlled. "You're right, nobody died."
"Then it's a win. I'm at Mamacita's Taquito Truck. What do you want?"
She gave him her order and he doubled it.
Felix Blake was a calm, supportive presence, as she explained that her job was at risk. Her story jumbled up a bit but he nodded as appropriate and prompted her like a skilled interrogator. Stop that train of thought, she warned herself. Felix was not CIA, FBI, SSR or SHIELD. He was a data analyst, after all. He was familiar with steering interviews.
"So I have to meet him tomorrow and plead for my job," she ended. They were cuddled on the couch and he was stroking her arm.
"Don't plead," Felix protested. "Tell me about this guy that you embarrassed."
She explained the little she knew about Jasper Sitwell.
"So, you met him while the pony incident was shaking out. Did he take you seriously? Or did he flirt with you? You are pretty and men are dogs," Felix admitted. "Did he underestimate you?"
She paused, and she admitted, "I think he was flirting."
"Then don't plead. He's upset that he underestimated your cunningness."
"I never been told I'm cunning," she admitted.
"Deliciously devious also," Felix retorted. "Slyly sultry also."
Her expressive face lit up at his compliments.
"I'm keeping you," Jemma decided with a very happy sigh. "You do wonderful things for my….. ego."
"Just your ego?" He chuckled as Jemma snuggled closer. "Just your ego? I feel insulted."
"Well, there's a lot more you do for me, but I'm trying to be an adult," she murmured.
"He's mortified, so if you plead or entreat for his mercy, he'll be further embarrassed as you'll appear weak. He needs to respect your ability so his pride is maintained. There's no embarrassment being outmanned, as it were, by someone who is your equal or in your case, his better. However, his pride will be permanently damaged if he decides he was distracted by your looks. Go in, explain what happened, why you switched the miniature horses for the Shetlands or vice versa. Hopefully your boss will get involved also. Interoffice politics can be useful when there are team issues. It's all based on who holds the top boss' favor."
She nodded her head and sighed, "I don't want to lose my job. I like what I do and I feel useful."
"Then hopefully your meeting tomorrow will go well," Felix agreed. He continued stroking her arm and he sighed. "Call me tomorrow, let me know how it goes. I took tomorrow off as they had me working doubles and triples these last two weeks. I'm too old to keep up with that pace."
"Oh, so you're feeling tired?" she asked as she snuggled closer. "Should I tuck you into bed?"
A warm laugh and then a hungry kiss was his response.
The next afternoon, Jemma Simmons met Phil Coulson at the entrance. She wore a suit that was … smarter… then what she regularly wore. Plus her hair was in a sleek bun that was rather professional in appearance oppose to her casual norm. All in all, she looked like she meant business, because Felix had taken one look at what she had planned on wearing (as she had gotten dressed at nine and asked for his opinion) and had told her that they were heading straight to Macys.
"You like your eclectic style," he informed her. "However, today of all days, you need to look professional and serious. You want your opponent to realize that he had been outdone by his equal or his better, not some punk kid who wears her brother's cardigan with a pair of jeans and considers that suitable office attire."
Considering he was wearing leather work boots, ripped jeans, a jumper and a leather motorcycle jacket, his opinions on fashion didn't seem rather helpful. However, he flagged down a sales girl, informed her that Jemma had an initial interview with a fortune 500 company, which he couldn't name due to the confidentially clause, and she needed immediate help.
The sales girl went to work, began throwing clothes at Felix, who dismissed some based on sexiness (Hello! She was planning on coming back for that shirt!) and other arcane unsuitability criteria. She was given an emergency squeeze in appointment in the makeup and hair salon but the final straw was when her desire for a cute pair of strappy heels were rejected and replaced by sensible flats.
"How tall is the interviewer? Is he your height?" Felix asked, but he mentally added, 'But heavier?'
Jemma flushed as she no doubt remembered her failed attempts at flirting with Jasper.
"He's a little taller than me."
"No heels then," Felix informed her. "Heels are fine with men of my height and build. Not his."
Coulson led her to the execution chamber (Ok, perhaps she was a bit dramatic as it was really just a conference room but her whole life was depending on the upcoming conversation). He nodded his head at her, and informed her, "Sitwell's reasonable. Explain, apologize and you'll be back on the Bus this afternoon."
"I shot him," she reminded Coulson.
"Perhaps next time that won't be the first solution to your problem," Coulson offered. "Though thank God, you didn't hit him with the fire extinguisher."
Jasper Sitwell sat in the only chair in the Conference Room. Simmons would have to stand and explain her actions to him, though really, the conclusion of their meeting was preordained. He was blackmailed by Hand's posse and he needed to determine who her fairy godmother or fairy godfather was. Was it Hand? Shaw? Blake?
There was a hesitant knock on the door and he roughly announced, "Enter."
He stared at the paperwork on the table and refused to acknowledge her existence. It was a deliberate attempt to break her composure, and for a wonder she stayed quiet for a whole two minutes. He had timed it, and he had anticipated that she'd break within mere seconds.
"I can come back later if you're busy," she offered.
"No, no, no," Sitwell growled. "I need an explanation for why you did this. Also, I'd like to hear why I shouldn't get your ass dishonorably discharged for assaulting a senior agent."
Jemma Simmons inhaled and slowly exhaled as she remembered Felix's advice to speak confidently. She began by apologizing for injuring Jasper and then explained with quiet sincerity why she had been accessing the panel. That done, she waited for Agent Sitwell's response.
She didn't plead for her job, as well, the decision had been made. Best hold her head high, and hope for the best. Surely, Coulson had intervened.
"I have good news for you, Agent. This incident is being swept under the rug. I have been requested not to press charges, and I will agree on one condition."
He stood, and she realized once again that it was fortunate her strappy (though cute) heels had been vetoed as Sitwell was only several inches taller than her.
"If this incident becomes public knowledge, I will destroy you regardless of who your friends are. Is that understood?" His voice was brittle and his eyes blazed with anger.
"Yes, Sir," she agreed.
"So who did you go to for help? Hand? Shaw? Blake?" Jasper asked. "Coulson only got involved after Hand informed him that you shot me."
"I beg your pardon?" She asked, as her voice shook. Blake? BLAKE? "I only know Agent Shaw as he was a recent mission. I don't know any Agent Blake, and I know Agent Hand only through her reputation."
"Charlie could have gotten Hand involved, but you claim not to know him that well. So that means Victoria Hand or Felix Blake decided to involved themselves. It couldn't be Blake, he's not one to involve himself in issues. If it was anyone else, I'd say he felt guilty about relaying the orders to Coulson regarding you being infected with the Chitauri virus. But he's not human like that, so Hand, it is. I guess she didn't want to lose the wunderkind known as FitzSimmons. However, next time that won't be enough to save you. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Agent Sitwell," she murmured.
"You're dismissed," he snapped.
She left the room, and returned back to the Bus. Jemma changed out of her clothes that FELIX BLAKE had bought for her and back into her comfortable, casual clothes. That done, she went to her Cube and closed the door. She tucked herself into a tiny ball and tried not to cry.
Felix Blake was a senior level SHIELD agent.
She had repeatedly shagged a SENIOR SHIELD AGENT.
She was still struggling to process that information when her phone vibrated. It was a brief message from Felix, "How'd it go?"
She couldn't answer him. Not right now. Possibly not ever.
