She froze, hearing Fitz's velociraptor screech, her heart suspended like an egg yolk in its shell, unable to find even the time to duck before the flimsy plastic halberd bounced harmlessly off her head. Ahead by a few steps, Trey and Cody doubled over in laughter. Next to Jemma, an 8-foot tall animatronic suit of armor slowly raised its weapon as a recorded voice announced, "None shall pass… on these great savings!"
After a moment, Fitz stopped gripping her arm like a life raft and turned to her. "Y'all right?"
"Yeah," she scrunched her mouth, rubbing the top of her hair. "Just a fright."
"It's not supposed to drop the axe onpeople," Trey giggled, "but Cody and me moved it last week. Dad hasn't noticed yet."
"Shut up, fartface!" Cody shoved at the younger boy, knocking him off-balance but not putting a damper on his laughter.
Fitz rolled his eyes and heaved an annoyed breath. "Come on, less talkin'," he said as his arms made shoo-shoo gestures and his voice dropped to a whisper, "more… not explodin'."
-o-
When they got to the central staircase, Fitz groaned softly, his limp becoming slightly more pronounced, but he put his hand on the rail and visibly pushed aside the discomfort.
"How are your toes?" Simmons knew he'd have blisters for days.
"I'm fine," he gritted out, doing his best to keep pace with the boys. "I don't want to let that little arsehole out of my sight again, who knows what other tricks he's got up his sleeve?"
Simmons chuckled humorlessly. "For two of the brightest minds in our field, we certainly seem to have let a pair of children outwit us tonight…"
Fitz made a sour face, but relaxed after a moment, slowing briefly. "Let's let the story stay between us, then, agreed?"
"Agreed. Telling anyone would undoubtedly land us in trouble with Sci-Ops, regardless, and to be honest? I don't know if people would believe us. It's been quite an evening." She smiled as she said it, considering the fact that in their line of work, the esoteric and extraordinary were practically humdrum.
"Yeah. Yeah, good. We share this with no one, then." Fitz smiled, close-mouthed but genial, and reached out to squeeze her fingers in his own.
She wrinkled her nose back at him. "Classified information. Clearance level: FitzSimmons."
She was so caught in staring at the way his features were cut into relief by the shadows, his nose stronger, his jaw more defined, that she heard rather than saw the enormous beanbag chair bouncing down the steps towards them. "Fitz! Look out!" She launched herself to the side as Fitz flattened himself in the other direction, and the beanbag tumbled harmlessly past.
"Not funny, children!" He shouted up at the brothers, who were laughing hysterically from the second story platform. They ignored his grousing and started tossing down a barrage of cushions, pillows, the occasional crib mattresses or wedge, and a bevy more beanbag chairs.
"Hey, stop- stop that!" Fitz yelled, struggling to ascend the staircase despite the volley of projectiles coming their way. Still better than a footrace. Jemma didn't think Fitz could stand another bout of running after them, not with the way he was shifting his weight. She vowed to fix a soaking bath for his feet the minute they got back to his flat. Given the late hour, she'd probably end up kipping on his sofa again, so it would be a simple enough gesture - as long as Fitz didn't spoil it with his awkward chivalry and his reluctance to accept kindness.
The missile strike finally eased enough for Simmons to reach the top of the steps, Fitz close behind her.
"Come on, they can't very well hide from us up here," she reassured him, as they advanced on the pair.
It wasn't easy to spot the boys out on the dim, muffled sales floor, but up here in the loft-style second level, there weren't as many places for them to have gone. They headed resolutely to what could only be the manager's office, identifiable, among other things, by the thin rectangle of electric light bordering the closed door.
Which, when she pushed it inward, revealed no sign of Cody or Trey. Or the power core. Simmons sighed heavily as Fitz tipped his head back and pinched at his nose, before dragging the wig off his head so he could scrub his hand over his forehead through his hair.
"You stay here," she pointed to a nearby display couch. "I'll hunt about. They've got to be close by, I'm sure we'd have heard footsteps if they'd gone back down the stairs."
Fitz flopped gratefully down, tossing his wig onto the cushion next to him. "Okay. Just for a minute." He lifted his right foot up onto his left knee and looked down at it as if disappointed in its report card. "How long do y' think it'll take to walk back to the car?"
Simmons let the pang of commiseration ring out in her voice. "We may not need to walk," she clucked, "we could call a cab, or I saw a bus stop on the way here… why don't you look that up while I search for the kids?"
Fitz reached into his pocket and pulled out both their phones. "You should take this back; I've got us both at 30%. Hey," he glanced up at her, some unknown emotion clouding his brow, "I'm sorry I got us into this mess." He cleared his throat. "And, er, you've got a new text message."
Taking her mobile back, Simmons read the latest from their 'philosophical' friend.
[Didi 01:49] how can mirrors be real if our eyes aren't real
Simmons rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's just about enough of that." Didi's particular brand of wisdom was starting to rankle her, and the way she kept texting was relentless. She was beginning to remind Jemma of a yappy little dog on a trampoline, constantly appearing over the top of the backyard fence, or always running at passers-by. She flicked through her phone screen, configuring the settings to ignore any further nuggets of enlightenment. Truth be told, she wasn't sure Didi would even remember them tomorrow.
-o-
Simmons crept through the darkened warehouse, sneaking around living room sets and ducking behind armoires. She felt a bit like Snow White going through the haunted forest, only hers was a forest of hat trees and coat trees, surrounded by jutting angles and tall patches of blackness. She slowed her breathing, crouching down to listen carefully, and thought she detected the sound of whispered admonishments off to her right. Footfalls quiet as snowbanks, she worked her way towards the source, her route indirect enough so as not to tip them off. As she inched past a large four-poster bed, the glowing power component suddenly came into view.
It was no longer merely glowing. Now the disc seemed to have a nimbus around it, a blurry aqua line chasing it as it moved through the air. That can't be good. The boys, of course, were delightedly shaking it about to see if they could maximize the effect, tracing letters in the still air and drawing anatomically unlikely breasts.
"No, stop!" Simmons ran at them. Jumping up from their hiding place, they set off in a haphazard scramble, leaping over the backs of loveseats and bouncing off the tops of coffee tables.
"You've got to give that back, it's dangerous! Trey! Trey, love! You trust me, right?" Simmons was chasing them to the best of her ability, but she was no child, amped on life and sugar and the thrill of a new game.
When she nearly crashed into the pair, she saw what had halted them. Fitz had managed to create a blockade of larger furniture pieces, trapping them rather effectively. She tsked internally at the fact that Fitz had been shoving bookshelves around instead of tending his feet, though she couldn't argue with his results. When the brothers whirled to go back the way they'd come, Simmons planted herself firmly in front of Cody and stuck out her hand.
"You have to listen to me. That thing could be dangerous. It's getting overtaxed and we don't know what the effect could be."
"I thought you said it was just a bicycle light," Cody countered, looking like he'd spotted the wire in a birthday magician's levitation trick. "What is this thing?"
"It is a bicycle light," she maintained staunchly, the sweat starting to pool a bit at her hairline. "Just a very dangerous one."
"Well how bad do ya want it? 'Cause-"
"The Hell is your problem?" Fitz growled, attempting to snatch Cody's arm and pry the battery away, until Simmons gave him a tiny shake of her head. The last thing we need is for this idiot to get hurt and blame it on Fitz.
Cody retreated somewhat and faced both of them, lip curling defiantly. "Okay, okay. We'll give it back. If," he pointed to Jemma, "she shows us her bra."
And the grand connection between Didi's texts is revealed! Every one of them is an actual... wait for it... (word for word) Jaden Smith tweet! (Told you the "mystery" was lame, haha.)
And will Simmons be forced to show off her cute underwear? Is she even wearing a bra?! These and other Important Issues will be addressed in Tuesday's update!
:-)
Hope you guys are enjoying the story - it's nearly over!