Sorry this took so long...I just kept writing and writing and the chapter just kept getting longer and longer. But this time I wasn't willing to cut it off before it got to where it was supposed to go!

Inspection

"She's what?" Bobbi asked in a hushed voice.

"You can't reach me!" Isabelle called again, making a face at Hunter.

"Called me 'Daddy'!" repeated Hunter before he dived into a barrel roll across the bed towards their daughter. She shrieked happily and disappeared under it. A second later she reappeared and bolted for Bobbi's legs, hugging them tightly with a fearful look on her face.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, and Hunter stood up from the bed with a similar concerned expression.

"There was a spider!" Isabelle said, and the two adults exchanged glances and then started to laugh. "'S not funny!" she told them reproachfully.

Bobbi was the first to sober. "Sorry, Isabelle, we know it's not," she said. "Was it a big spider?" The girl nodded. "Well, even big spiders have a right to live too, so let's just leave him alone. There's no reason to be scared of him—"

"I'm not scared!"

She smiled. "You're not?"

"No," Isabelle said firmly. Then: "But it was right by my face!"

"I think you were invading its territory, not the other way around," Hunter laughed, coming around to their side of the bed and extricating her from Bobbi's legs. He lifted her up so she was almost seated in his arms, facing them both. "Let's just stay out from under the bed from now on, shall we?"

"Okay," Isabelle agreed. She twisted so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," he agreed. "It's almost dinnertime, but I don't think anyone's started cooking yet."

"How does noodle casserole sound?" Bobbi asked Isabelle.

Her daughter's brow furrowed. "What is that?"

"Well, I think you'll like it," she smiled. She returned her gaze to Hunter. "We can make enough for everyone and then just see who shows up when it's ready. They'll have to eat sometime."

He nodded his agreement and shifted Isabelle's weight so that he could open the door. The three of them headed to the kitchen and Bobbi got out the necessary pots and pans while Hunter provided one for Isabelle to play with. She promptly began banging the pot and its lid together.

"Great choice on toys," Bobbi told Hunter as he joined her at the counter, yelling to make herself heard.

"Well, if she had any other toys besides the two stuffed animals..." Bobbi looked back to see Thor the monkey and Hoppity the rabbit now sitting in the pot as the four-year-old continued to make as much noise as she could.

"We haven't had a chance to go shopping yet," Bobbi replied with a sigh. "We'll get to it." She looked back at Hunter's face. "Oh, you're gonna spoil her rotten, aren't you?"

"I do have four years to make up," he pointed out.

She shot him a glance, biting back a sharp retort. But all she said was, "So do I."

He gazed back at her and then gave a small nod of his head before gesturing back at Isabelle. "I'll go see what I can do about that."

Bobbi smiled as she filled the a pot with water at the sink, then set it on the stove and turned on the burner. While she waited for it to heat up, she looked back at the two of them. Hunter was trying unsuccessfully to wrestle the pot back from Isabelle, who thought keeping it from him was a hilarious game. Somehow she won—probably from Hunter's fear of accidentally making her fall off the chair and hurting herself—and he admitted his defeat by presenting her with a wooden spoon from one of the drawers. He rapped it against the pot lid, which emitted a dull clanging sound. Quieter, but not quiet.

"See, this is much more fun," Hunter told her, handing her the spoon. She promptly banged down on the lid with it as hard as she could, resulting in a sound not much better than what had come before.

Bobbi shot him an amused glance, but her ex-husband ignored her, merely setting his jaw and getting back to work.

"But, you wanna see something really cool?" Hunter asked Isabelle, stilling her movements for a second.

"What?" the girl cocked her head to the side cutely.

"Watch this," Hunter said, taking the pot lid and turning it over so that it was balancing on its handle. Then he spun it as hard as he could and it took off like a top, circling round and round. Isabelle watched it with fascination until it stopped.

"I wanna try!" she demanded, taking hold of it. Hunter happily obliged her, as spinning the lid made much less noise than hitting it, adjusting her grip and guiding her movement. The lid spun out again, albeit more slowly and more wobbly than last time, and Bobbi smiled at the sight.

"Your pot's about to boil-over there, Bob," Hunter told her without looking up. She jumped, returning her attention to it. He was right.

"Thanks," she said, uncovering it and turning the heat down. She put in the noodles and got out the frozen cheese to thaw a bit before she needed it as well as readied a jar of spaghetti sauce. When the noodles were cooked she drained them and put them in a casserole dish, mixing in the sauce and spreading some cheese over the top.

Hunter came up next to her as she put it in the oven, a little triumphant grin on his face. "Yes, yes, you got her to quiet down," Bobbi teased with a roll of her eyes. "Congratulations."

"You kidding?" he asked in an equally serious—that is, not at all—voice. "I saved this entire base from unbearable clamor and pierced eardrums."

Just then, Isabelle got bored with spinning and reverted back to banging. Bobbi tried and failed not to smile.

"Well, I guess it couldn't last forever," he sighed. "Why don't I go round up anyone I can find for dinner?"

"Good idea," Bobbi laughed. "And take her with you."

Hunter made a face. "I was going to leave her with you."

Ducking down to check the casserole, Bobbi replied, "I know."

He sighed, walking back over to the table. "Hey Isabelle, you wanna come with me to go get people for dinner? You know, Trip, Jemma, Mack, Skye..." She nodded profusely at the names he listed, jumping up to take his hand with Hoppity and Thor swinging at her side.

When they returned, Bobbi was surprised to see the entire team following with those who went apparently back from their mission. From the slightly drawn look on Skye's face, she couldn't quite tell if it had gone well or not but decided not to ask.

She had just pulled the casserole out of the oven and was starting to serve it up as they all sat down. Skye and Simmons moved to help her but she waved them off, and they went to distribute glasses and silverware instead. Trip brought around a jug of milk and other drinks while Hunter got Isabelle situated, trying in vain to convince her that keeping Thor and Hoppity at the table with her was risking getting red sauce on them and that then Bobbi wouldn't have a seat.

Only the second argument seemed to hold any sway with her. "They can sit on our laps!" Isabelle chirped happily in reply. Hunter just gave up and handed her a napkin to drape over the top of Hoppity's head.

The last plates Bobbi set on the table before sitting down were her own and Hunter's. "This smells so good," Skye told her, taking a deep whiff. They all dug in as soon as the food had cooled down enough. "You and Hunter did a great job, Bobbi."

"I cooked. Hunter just did his best not to burn anything," Bobbi teased.

"Hey! I kept a pot from boiling over, remember?" he said indignantly.

Skye laughed. "That's not cooking."

"Do you think we'll get anything more from Bakshi?" May asked.

"Not really," Bobbi shrugged. "He's a true believer of the worst kind. I would make a permanent home for him in Vault E. I'll keep working him, but... I'm not hopeful. We're lucky to have gotten what we did."

"Ugh," Simmons made a face. "Another bogey in the basement."

"Let's talk about something happier," Skye said. They all looked at her. Today hadn't exactly been high on the list of happy ones by far for most of them. "Come on, we need some lightness in our lives. I don't know, let's each tell a story from our childhood or something. The shop talk can wait." Everyone was silent before good-natured Trip finally broke it.

"Did I ever tell you about the time my grandma invited us over for dinner but I forgot to tell my momma she was supposed to make the Sampson-family-traditional chocolate cream pie?" he asked.

"No," Skye replied, gazing at him gratefully.

"Well, my grandma called when she wasn't home so I picked up the phone. She gave me the message to pass along to my momma about the whole family coming over to her place, but then my friend Jimmy came over with the news that a new issue of our favorite comic came out," Trip began. "By the time we got back, I didn't remember anything about the call. I didn't remember about the gathering until the day of, and when I told her. She flipped out, and it was too late to make the pie so we had to show up without it. After that, my grandmother never asked my momma to bring anything again no matter how much she begged her." Everyone smiled at the end of the story, more from the fond way Trip talked about the two women in his family than the humor of the story itself.

"When I was little I tried making my own peanut butter," Skye offered. "I took out peanuts from the cupboard of one of my foster parents' houses and butter from the top shelf of the fridge...but I was too short to reach, so I had to use a ruler to fish it out. The butter slipped and got all over the floor. When my foster mother found me she nearly fell on her butt trying to reach me." They all laughed.

"You can make your own peanut butter?" Isabelle asked.

"No, that's the point," Bobbi shook her head with a smile.

"When I was a kid, I microwaved a fork once on accident," Mack revealed. "Almost melted our entire cabinet because no one realized."

"When I was a kid, dinosaurs roamed the Earth," Coulson said to make Isabelle laugh.

"I microwaved a fork once too," Fitz cut in. "In the lab." He shrugged. "But I just wanted to see what would happen."

"Leopold Fitz!" Simmons slugged him in the arm. "You told me that lab accident was because of my staphylococcus nimonuralis! I spent six weeks of research trying to figure out why micro-waves being at ten-to-the-negative-seven hertz would cause my bacteria to explode!"

"Yeah sorry, Jemma," Fitz replied guiltily.

She let out a huff in response, turning away from him.

"My family had a dog when I was growing up," Bobbi volunteered next. "One night we're having her favorite food—sausages—and she pulled the entire table cloth off the table to get to them."

"Can we get a dog?" Isabelle asked.

"Sorry, Isabelle, but no," she shook her head. The corners of her mouth curved upwards slightly as she said it.

"But dogs are fun!"

"And hard to take care of," Bobbi told her gently.

"I would help!" Isabelle petitioned.

"Maybe when you're older," Hunter replied, and Bobbi shot him a look. "I said maybe!"

Her phone rang and Bobbi pulled it out of her pocket reflexively. She stared at the caller ID for a second. Delilah Brooks, Mirwood Adoption Agency. "Excuse me, I need to take this," she said, standing up and heading out of the room without looking up. Once out in the hall, she took a deep breath and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Barbara Morse?" Delilah asked.

"Yes, this is she," Bobbi confirmed.

"All right, good. How's it going with Isabelle?" the woman asked cheerily.

"Pretty well," Bobbi smiled, though her heart was pounding.

"Great!" Delilah said. "The reason I called is that I was thinking it might be a good idea for her social worker to come for a visit soon. That would allow Isabelle's case with child services to be closed permanently. Is that something you would be interested in doing?"

"Yes," Bobbi answered immediately. There were very few things she wanted more than to finish with the adoption agency—with the uncertainty—once and for all. "But I'll have to check with my schedule to see when would be a good time."

"That's perfectly all right," Delilah replied. "Her social worker's name is Janet Marchese, and she'll be in your area for the next couple weeks visiting homes, although the latter part of that is already pretty booked. I'll give you some time to figure out a good day with you and we can schedule it."

"Sounds good," Bobbi agreed. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Delilah said. "I'm glad Isabelle's found her home. Give me a call back whenever you're ready."

"I will, thanks," Bobbi told her. "Bye."

"Bye!" With the click of the line terminated Bobbi felt like throwing it against the wall. They didn't need this right now, this kind of complication. Between Ward, the alien symbols, the grisly murders, HYDRA… It was too much all at once. There was no way in hell they could pass an inspection like this, especially as she suspected Isabelle would have to speak to the social worker on her own. With her recent trauma, not only could Bobbi not be sure she wouldn't describe the incident to the woman under a question such as "Do you feel safe here?", she couldn't even be sure that Isabelle would be willing to be alone with a stranger for any length of time. How were they supposed to do this?

Every time Bobbi thought she finally had a handle on this. Every time they made any real progress. Every time something good finally happened. Every time.

And now this person, someone none of them knew, was going to walk in with no context and judge whether she was doing it right. The context was classified. Hell, their lives were classified. Isabelle's very birth was classified in Bobbi's S.H.I.E.L.D. file. And to the outside world, S.H.I.E.L.D. was akin to a terrorist organization. And disbanded. And no longer existed.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. If this was what parenting was going to be like, what the hell was she doing with her life? Even though Hunter was on her side now, helping her… She still wasn't sure she could do it. Being Isabelle's mom was something that she hadn't even let herself dream of after she gave her up, but somehow the girl had ended up back in her life, relying on her for food, shelter, love…to keep her safe.

Damn it, she was going to pass the social worker's inspection whether she was sure she could do it or not. Bobbi didn't have a choice. Isabelle was hers now—her child, her daughter, her responsibility. They could figure this out. As her own mother used to tell her, there was always a way if one looked hard enough, in this case a way not to put the base in danger of outside discovery and convince the social worker that Isabelle was being taken care of properly and despite the custody turmoil was now set to live a normal life.

For that perspective, the answer came to her rather easily. They would have to leave the base.

Bobbi turned on her heel and headed back into the kitchen, nearly rejoining the team at the table before realizing most everyone was already done. Instead she helped Trip ferry plates to the sink instead. "Everything okay?" Mack asked, coming up behind her with the casserole dish.

"Yes, fine," she replied with a nod. "Who's doing dishes tonight?"

"Well, you and Hunter cooked and everyone else has alien-related work to do, so Trip and I were thinking we would," Mack answered, and Triplett nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, guys," Skye said, her tiredness apparent in her voice.

"Actually, Trip, could you take Isabelle for a bit?" Bobbi asked. Her unexpected request caused every head to turn towards her, no one's as fast as Hunter's.

"Sure," Triplett agreed readily. "Plus, maybe Isabelle will want to help out in the kitchen too." He turned to Isabelle, giving her a questioning look.

The girl considered it thoughtfully for a second. "Will I get wet?"

Trip laughed. "Maybe."

"Okay!" Isabelle grinned.

Bobbi kissed the top of her head before giving her a little shove towards him. "Have fun. You'll be perfectly safe with Trip, and we'll be right back, okay?" The girl gave her a smile before running over to him and starting to tug on his shirt.

"I want a pan!"

Smiling at the noise level about to ensue, Bobbi turned to Coulson and May. "Can I talk to you two in your office?" she asked. Hunter stood up as well, following the three of them.

Once they had arrived and sat down, May spoke first. "I assume this is regarding the phone call you received during dinner?"

"Yes," Bobbi nodded. "The adoption agency called. They—"

"Do they want her back?" Hunter sprang up. "Because we can't do that, Bob, you can't just introduce me to her and then taker her away again! She belongs with us! They can't do this!"

"Hunter, they're not demanding get back," she told him. "It's nothing like that."

"Oh," he said, breathing quickly from his outburst. "Oh, okay. Good."

"What do they want?" May asked, eyes narrowed.

"To have a social worker come and check out her living situation," Bobbi answered evenly. "It's just a formality, but they do want to do it."

"I assume you have a plan?" Coulson asked. He was gazing at her rationally, without judgment. He was treating her like an agent, not a mother—and in this instance she was grateful.

"Yeah, we can't have them come here," Hunter agreed, looking at her expectantly.

"I do. We move out, temporarily, to one of the safehouses nearby. We can pretend it's our house, make it look lived in if we try hard enough."

"...I'm coming with you, right?" Hunter checked.

"Yes," Bobbi confirmed, turning her head back to Coulson. "If you'll let him, sir."

"If you don't, I'll just quit," her ex-husband added. She looked sideways at him, and then thought that she'd never seen him look more serious.

"This isn't the best of timing, but I don't see what other choice we have," Coulson said, running a hand over his face. "Do you have a date yet?"

"Not exactly. She suggested late this week sometime, or early next."

"That means you'd be gone four to eight days," May said, exchanging glances with the director.

"But I can't ask you—either of you—to give up Isabelle," Coulson told them. At Bobbi's look of alarm, he added, "I mean I won't, Agent Morse. Your daughter's welfare is more important than your contribution to S.H.I.E.L.D. at this moment. I don't disagree with your priorities."

"Thank you, sir," Bobbi nodded. "You've been understanding throughout this whole mess..."

"I give you my permission, on one condition," Coulson continued, looking her straight in the eye. "When we find the city, you or Hunter are coming with, and the other is reporting back here to run ops."

Bobbi and Hunter looked at each other, confused. "What city?" he asked.

"I was going to tell you all at tonight's briefing," the director replied, opening his desk drawer to pull out a thick file folder stamped with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. "The symbols we've been chasing—the ones Garrett and I carved, the ones cut into Agent Stevens, the ones on the Obelisk—they are a map. To a city built by the same aliens from which the GH-325 serum is derived, one that we are now engaged in a race with HYDRA to find. They have the Obelisk, but they don't have all the pieces. We do." He passed her the folder. "Consider this your homework while you're away. It's everything we've learned so far."

"That's...a lot," Hunter said, leaning back in his chair.

"I know. But there's nothing at S.H.I.E.L.D. more important than this right now. We can't let HYDRA get their hands on a whole city filled with alien objects, especially if any of them are even half as dangerous as the Obelisk—and we have no reason to think they won't be. Which is why I need you two back as soon as we track it down. At that point I don't care if you have to reschedule with the social worker—we are at war."

"You don't have to remind me, sir, why we're going head-to-head with HYDRA," Bobbi nodded. "I watched my friends turn on me, and those that didn't die at their hands. I'll be here." Hunter nodded his assent.

"Good. Meet us here at eight in the morning and May will help you locate an appropriate safehouse. You can move in tomorrow as well, though you'll probably need to spend some time getting it to look less spartan and more lived-in. And I'll also have Skye take a few minutes off from her search to change the formal documentation to be under your name so it won't raise any unwanted questions."

"Thank you, sir," Bobbi said again, rising to leave.

"So does this mean we're off the hook for the briefing tonight?" Hunter asked.

Coulson smiled. "Yes, you two are excused. Although you're going to miss my I-know-you-all-may-have-thought-you-were-crazy portion of my speech...I worked all the van ride home on that one."

"You're not crazy," Hunter promised him. They both stood up and left the office together, heading back to the kitchen. "You could have warned me," he said softly to her as they walked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blindside you," Bobbi replied. "I was just so focused on what we had to do that I didn't think about it. But you were always part of my plans."

"Apology accepted," he told her.

"We're in this together," she nodded.

"Together," Hunter agreed.

As they entered the kitchen they were met with the sight and sounds of Isabelle sobbing into Trip's shoulder. "Oh my God what happened?" Bobbi asked, rushing forward.

Trip shook his head, handing her over. "I have no clue. She just started, I swear."

"Wasn't your fault, mate," Hunter said, looking Isabelle over with concern as the girl wrapped her arms around Bobbi instead.

"Maybe just with recent events she wanted you two around," Mack added.

"Thanks, guys, we'll take her from here," Bobbi said.

"We're finished with the dishes, so we'll give you some privacy," Mack told them. "Come on, Trip, I owe you some COD." They both edged out of the room and Bobbi returned her attention to Isabelle, stroking her hair with her hand.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

"You were gone," the girl choked out against Bobbi's shirt.

"But you were with Mack and Trip," Bobbi told her. "They would keep you safe."

"They're not you," Isabelle insisted. She released Bobbi and held her arms out to Hunter, who lifted her into his.

"Well, we're here now, so no more need for tears, love," he said gently. "We'll try not to leave you alone anymore until you're more comfortable with it, yeah?"

"I don't want to be alone, ever," Isabelle told him with a sniffle.

"We got that now," Hunter assured her. "Now, it's time for bed, so I'm going to give you back to Bobbi."

Her daughter's warm weight was placed back in her arms, but Isabelle's attention was still focused on him with a distraught look in her eyes and tears refilling them. "No!"

He gazed back at her, perplexed. "My room doesn't have a bed for you, love, and your old one's a mess right now. You and Bob are gonna have to share a bed tonight."

"Want you to be there," Isabelle shook her head.

"All right, let's go then," Hunter acquiesced. "I'll sleep on the floor; it's fine." He turned and led the way out of the kitchen, back to the spare room Bobbi had claimed. Isabelle began squirming as soon as she was set down.

"I don't like it here," she whimpered. "It's cold."

"It's plenty warm," Bobbi frowned. "Just as warm as any other room on the base."

Her daughter shook her head. "It's empty and dark."

"But we're here, so it's not empty," she reasoned. Isabelle still shook her head, looking around warily.

"How about we go to my room?" Hunter suggested. "You want to see my room?"

Nodding, Isabelle began to smile. "Yeah."

"Good, because my room's pretty cool," he promised. He motioned for Bobbi to come with and they set off down the corridor again, Bobbi inwardly wondering what they would do if Isabelle decided she didn't like his room either. Maybe it was just the dark gray, blank walls their daughter didn't like… If so, Hunter'd better be right that his room was 'cool' or this was going to end very badly.

When they reached his quarters, he set Isabelle down to open the door and then guided her inside with a hand on her back. Bobbi followed curiously, taking in her surroundings and unconsciously comparing them to what their bedroom had looked like when they'd been married. A few more soccer—sorry, football—posters, a beer bottle on the desk that she was just going to overlook. Although come to think of it there had been quite a bit of beer in their bedroom too towards the end. "So, do you like it?" Hunter asked, lifting her up onto the corner of his unmade bed.

Isabelle considered it a moment, looking around. The room wasn't bare, but it was very masculine. Bobbi found herself holding her breath awaiting the verdict. "I like it, Daddy," the girl smiled. They glanced at each other, Hunter's gaze clearly saying See what I mean! while Bobbi's was more one of shock and excitement. She couldn't wait for the word 'Mommy' to come out of Isabelle's mouth in reference to her, but of course she couldn't rush it. She would say it when she was ready… But the fact that she was already comfortable occasionally using 'Daddy' with Lance—Hunter, he was Hunter, where did that come from?—meant that her turn probably wasn't far behind.

"I'll still take the floor, but I gotta get some blankets and a pillow; there's extra toothbrushes in the bathroom," he told her.

"I'm not going to make you take the floor in your own room, Hunter," she replied, shaking her head. "I'll sleep there; it's nothing I haven't done on missions a hundred times."

"Okay, thanks, Bob," he said, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. They both turned to Isabelle, Bobbi to take her to the bathroom to brush her teeth and Hunter for some other reason. She was staring at them with a pleading expression.

"Ah, no, love, I don't think that's such a good idea," Hunter said, understanding the meaning first.

"Yeah, Isabelle, the bed's not really big enough for three," Bobbi told her.

She kept up the puppy-dog-eyes.

Hunter looked at Bobbi. She looked back at him. "I guess we could...I mean, I'd be okay with it if…" he began.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to, or anything…" Bobbi replied. "I'm perfectly fine with, you know, sleeping on the floor…"

Isabelle, if possible, gazed at them even more plaintively.

"Maybe it'd be better if we just did it without talking about it," she said.

"I think you're right."

"You win," Bobbi told Isabelle. The girl smiled. "Now come on, teeth brushing time."

"I'll scrounge up another pillow," Hunter said as they went into the bathroom. Bobbi helped her daughter brush her teeth and waited as she used the toilet—thank God being four meant she was potty-trained, that was a whole other can of worms Bobbi didn't even want to get into—before getting ready for bed herself.

"I call the left side of the bed," she told Hunter as he passed. Isabelle crawled into the middle and Bobbi lay down next to her, pulling the mussed covers over them both.

"Of course you do," he sighed, stepping in front of the sink. "Just like old times." When Hunter had finished, he turned turned out the light and slipped into bed on Isabelle's other side. The girl had practically fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. "Night, Bob."

She stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim her. "Night, Hunter."

Phew, you made it. And you now understand where the "new direction" as far as Bobbi, Hunter, and Isabelle are concerned is going...they're going to get some alone time soon, which will make time for some heart-to-heartness between the two of them and family bonding moments with Isabelle. You'll also get to learn more about those first few weeks after her birth where Bobbi was trying to decide whether or not she could keep her.

I would love to hear your thoughts!

P.S.: Fifteen more days to 3x01!