Jemma escaped to the small lab on the lower level, which worked well enough until Fitz tracked her down. "Jem, I need your input on the device I'm working on," he said without preamble as he walked swiftly into the room. "And give me that ring you're wearing. Coulson cornered me; apparently marital stalking is en vogue."

"I thought you would be pleased to plant a tracker on him," she replied dryly, handing him her wedding ring with no small amount of reluctance. "I want that back as soon as possible."

"Oh, I get the point of it all, but it's still kind of weird."

"You try getting kidnapped, and then let me know how you feel about being findable by GPS." She pushed aside her notes, mildly annoyed by the interruption to her thought process. "How has it been, here?"

Fitz shrugged, but he looked nervous, and a small bandage lay near his hairline. "Eh, you know. Pretty much the same."

"I heard about the storage room."

"Yeah. Nearly lost a few of the DWARFs in that mess. Sleepy took a good knock, but I've put her back together." He ran a hand through his hair. "So… in case you didn't know…"

"Audrey's here?" She began fiddling with a nearby pen, casting her gaze down at the table. "I know."

"Good." There was a brief, awkward pause, and then, "She seems good. Settled. Whatever Dr. Banner has been doing, it's obviously helping."

"I'm glad." There was nothing for it. "Have you seen Skye? I would like to speak with her."

"Nah, not since breakfast. I think they're meditating somewhere."

Hiding in this small lab would just delay the inevitable. "I'm going for a walk, then. What was it you needed me to look at?"

He gave her an almost quizzical look, and then shook his head. "Find Skye first. You'll just be distracted until you get that done. I'll be in the other lab."

They walked together to the main level, and he gave her a brief wave as they parted. He seemed fine with her, at least, and Trip, when she passed him in the hall, smiled and greeted her easily and warmly. No hard feelings there, then.

She finally found Skye tucked away in one of the lesser used common rooms, and Jemma was not surprised to find that Audrey and Dr. Banner were with her. Unnerved, perhaps, but not surprised. The threesome stared at her for a moment, expressions ranging from Banner's polite smile to the uncertain look on Skye's face. Audrey hesitated, her mouth opening as if she were going to say something, before nodding a greeting.

"Hey, Jem," Skye said finally in an uncharacteristically reserved tone. "How was your vacation?"

Jemma felt a blush spread across her face in response to that. "Fine." She took a few steps further into the room, extending her hand to Bruce. "My name is Jemma Simmons. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Banner."

Comprehension dawned. "Likewise, Dr. Simmons. I'm a big fan of your work."

She couldn't help but smile as they shook hands, pleased that a scientist of his caliber knew her reputation. "Thank you. I'm a fan of yours, as well."

Judging by the look on his face, he knew far more about her than he would have learned through his SHIELD contacts.

Well, he had been spending most of his time with Audrey, lately.

Oh dear.

"Congratulations." Audrey stood, the smile on her face tentative, but genuine. "I hope you're very happy."

Skye just gave her a confused look. Obviously Natasha had been selective when it came to whom she had shared the news with. "What happened?"

"Oh, Phil and I- we eloped." Jemma started to lift her hand, only to remember that Fitz had her ring. "I'm afraid we caused some trouble for Fury."

Bruce's only reaction to that was a faint smile, the kind that told Jemma he didn't mind the thought of someone annoying Fury. "Congratulations, Dr. Simmons. Agent Coulson is a lucky man."

Skye stood abruptly, an expression that Jemma couldn't quite interpret on her face. "Excuse me."

"She's very fond of Phil," Jemma said into the silence that followed Skye's exit. "Not in a romantic way, but…"

There was a sudden tremor under their feet. "I'm sorry for interrupting your session." The words spilled from Jemma's lips quickly. "Excuse me. I hope- this is very unfortunate, I'm so sorry."

She made a quick exit, instinctively walking away from Skye. Unfortunately, Skye had been heading in the direction of the main lab and the offices, and Jemma's chosen direction ran to the hangar and the storage rooms. After a few minutes of walking she found herself in a dusty room, feeling unbearably foolish.

"You seem to have the worst luck."

She looked up, startled, only to find Audrey standing in the doorway. "Oh. Hello. Did you want… this room?"

"I came to make sure you were all right." Audrey shrugged. "I realize that the ex-girlfriend might be the last person you want to speak with, but… after seeing the look on your face, I thought you needed to speak with someone."

"Ah." Jemma perched on the edge of an old desk, staring down at her lap. "After you left, a number of unfortunate things happened. Many of them happened to Skye."

"And to you."

She heard Audrey's footsteps echo quietly in the room, and when she looked up the other woman had seated herself in a hard wooden chair. "I know what happened to Skye," Audrey said. "What's the rest of the story?"

Jemma could feel doubt spread across her own face, and did her best to tamp it down. "It's unpleasant."

Audrey blushed slightly, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm not- I'm not asking because I want to see you suffer. I acted badly when I was last here, and I was certainly jealous, but- hell." She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not explaining this well."

Jemma thought that this was a kindness, of sorts. "What happened to Skye happened because of me," she said finally, not wanting to get into the ugly details of the matter.

"How so?" Audrey gave her a questioning, almost incredulous stare. "You, personally, handed her off to her enemies?"

"It wasn't that simple."

"No, I didn't think so." Audrey leaned back in her chair, looking thoughtful. "But it's interesting how, when given the chance to explain, you automatically give a bare bones explanation that paints you in the worst light."

Jemma wasn't entirely sure if Audrey was somehow accusing her of playing the martyr, but it sounded rather like it. "It's a truthful explanation, though."

"From a certain perspective." Audrey plucked at the fold of material at her knee, frowning. "I am sorry about this. We were supposed to leave two days from now, before you returned."

"Our early return was entirely Steve's fault." Jemma stroked the skin where her wedding ring had rested, wishing she had just followed Fitz to the lab when he carried it off. "And what happened was- what happened with Skye, I mean- was that she very kindly offered herself in exchange for me."

Audrey said nothing at that, though she did stop fiddling with her pants leg.

"I let my guard down and ended up in the wrong hands. Skye saved me."

"That was very brave of her."

"She paid dearly for it." Jemma gave a tiny, self-conscious smile. "I'm afraid she rather regrets it, now."

"I have a feeling you've left out at least a half-a-dozen terrible things that are also weighing on your mind." Audrey stood, extending her hand. "Come on."

"Err… I'm fine here, thank you."

Not that Jemma didn't appreciate the gesture. She just wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't be met with a shock.

"Sulking in a storage room is beneath you." Audrey grabbed Jemma's hand in one quick motion, pulling her off the table and tugging her out the door. "I won't make you sit down and talk it out with Skye, but I will deliver you to a safe location."

"That storage room seemed fairly safe."

"But lacking in things like food, water, and plumbing."

They were aiming for the kitchen, Jemma realized after a moment. She wasn't entirely sure what Audrey's plan was at that point, but she suspected that food would be involved. Had Phil picked up a penchant for feeding distressed people from her, or vise versa?

It was a moot point, in the end, because a short while later they rounded a corner and were no longer alone.

Phil gave them a long look, obviously trying to determine exactly what the story was behind their situation, but before he could ask Audrey cleared her throat and thrust Jemma forward. "Good. You'll know how to comfort her best."

They both stared after her as she hurried around the corner and out of sight. "What happened?" he asked, his hands light on her arms.

"Skye."

"Huh." He turned his head to look at her, seeming to shake off the oddness of the circumstances quickly. "Do I need to speak with Skye?"

"I'm sure she'll come looking for you, eventually. We should have held off on the wedding, until she could come… but she's probably more upset with me than you, so-"

"It's okay, Jem." He moved closer, wrapping her in a hug. "I'm glad we didn't wait."

"Me, too." A piece of paper wouldn't do a thing to really keep her safe- and apparently had made the situation even more dangerous, unfortunately- but even the word 'husband' was comforting. "I need to save my ring from Fitz," she said, her face pressed against his shoulder. "You looked like you were in a hurry."

"I was on my way to the lab. He took my ring, too." He nudged her along, keeping close.

"So you were walking in the opposite direction because…"

"Not sure, actually. It felt like the right direction to go. And it was, because here you are."

She didn't intend to argue with him about it, not when she was already on the edge, emotionally speaking. "Is Fury treating you badly?"

"Nick has written a veritable 'honey-do' list," he replied dryly. "I'm planning on delegating most of it."

"Like any good supervisor."

They walked smoothly together, she noticed. With his arm around her waist and the height difference, they should have been out of sync, but no- they fell into step. He shortened his stride slightly as she lengthened hers, and they met somewhere in the middle with minimal awkward bumping of hips. "And what will you be delegating to me?" she asked. "I could synthesize some kind of compound… or perhaps Fury would like Fitz and I to work on a new weapon."

"He probably would like that." He had managed to maneuver his thumb smoothly under the hem of her shirt, allowing it to simply rest against her bare skin. It was more distracting than she would have thought. The brush of him against her as they walked, the slight drag of callous against the smooth skin on the slope of her hip- tantalizing, and somehow sweetly agonizing, as well. "If you are feeling the inventing urge, please go ahead."

They had been close to the epicenter of the quakes, but the strength of the tremors diminished as they continued further along the halls. "It really might be best if I did leave," she said eventually, breaking the companionable quiet. "I don't want to, but if… I'm sure I could be doing useful work elsewhere."

He drew her into an empty office at that. "I don't know why you persist in devaluing yourself," he said, surprising her. His hands moved to cup her cheeks gently, thumbs stroking along the line of her cheekbones. "I'm saying this as your husband, and as someone who knows just how valuable you are as a member of this team: you are not less than Skye."

"Phil-"

"She's hurting and it kills me, Jemma, but we can't bend our lives around her. Powers don't automatically put her at the top."

"I know, but I don't want to be the source of contention." To her horror, tears were beginning to form at the corner of her eyes, and the heaviness in her throat signaled that a good cry was inevitable. "I don't want to be her trigger, Phil. She might get better without me here. Staying just means that I creep around the edges and hide in corners."

He was giving her an odd look, as if he were genuinely afraid of whatever solution was coalescing in her head. "And where are you planning on going?"

"I- I could always do what Natasha suggested."

The alarmed noise he made, deep in his throat, was unexpected. "Bad enough when she first came up with that plot. But now- now, Jem- you'd be a bartering piece. You wouldn't be able to play the soured soulbond, not with an actual marriage certificate in the system."

"I know, I know." She sniffed, dabbing the edge of her sleeve under one eye. "And I'm a terrible liar."

"Jem, I don't think Nat could pull that off."

She held herself stiff when he tried to pull her closer. "I'll get mascara all over your shirt."

"Never bothered you before," he replied with a slight smile. "I think I've lost at least two to your mascara- though you wear them both to bed regularly, and admittedly you look better in them than I ever did."

"I'm just emotional because I'm experiencing a sudden upswing in testosterone," she explained tearily, giving in to the hug. "I don't know how men deal with this all the time."

"Oh, you know. Bluster and unnecessary violence, mainly."

"I want my ring back."

"Okay." He dug into his pockets, pulling out a crumpled packet of kleenex. "After we badger Fitz into handing over the goods, maybe we could go down to the gym. I'll demonstrate proper form for working with a punching bag."

The idea of hitting something was surprisingly appealing. "I'm going to take you up on that offer."

"Good."

Jemma was an enthusiastic student, which didn't surprise Phil in the least. This did mean that it was hard to tear her away from the gym once he decided that her overworked muscles needed the break. There was also the fact that seeing her in a sweat-dampened tank top and yoga pants, whaling on a punching bag, was enough to put him in a frisky mood.

"Rome was not built in a day, as the saying goes," he reminded her, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently along. "Tomorrow your arms are going to feel like limp spaghetti. Let's not make them worse."

He herded her into the shower once they reached their rooms, unable to keep his hands off of her as he did so. She was laughing, an amused expression on her face. "Phil, you know I'm on my menses."

"Barely started," he replied, checking the mental calendar in his head, but moved his hands to a more respectable location. "But you're right. Anything I can do?"

"Come to bed tonight." She met his gaze, now serious. "I know Fury has work for you, and I know that we both have a tendency to get much too involved in our duties, but I don't want to fall asleep without you."

"I can do that." He began massaging shampoo into her scalp, smiling when she sighed and allowed her eyelids to flutter closed. "That heating pad should still be in your nightstand."

"Hmmm." She leaned lightly into his hands, a slight smile curving her lips. "That feels nice."

It was as they were dressing that she lost some of her short-lived lightheartedness. "Phil, you don't think that Steve might actually take it into his head to... "

"Stage a coup?" He shook his head. "I hope not. I don't want to get caught in the middle of that battle."

"Whose side would you choose?"

He considered that for a moment. From what he knew about Project Insight, he wasn't exactly feeling the utmost of trust in Fury, either… but Steve, while an excellent leader, was not cut out to be the director of an organization like SHIELD. It would crumble without someone like Fury at the helm, and Phil did still believe that SHIELD was necessary, as cracked and haphazard as the current version was.

"I'm not sure," he said finally. "I don't want to make that choice, honestly."

"I know." She shrugged. "On the one hand, my feelings for Fury are rather evident-"

She grinned at that. "-and Steve did interrupt our honeymoon, so…"

"That is a strike against him, I agree." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling his nose against her neck. She smelled like his soap and her shampoo, and utterly, utterly delicious. "Are we going to brave dinner with the crew?"

"It isn't Fitz's night to cook, is it?"

"Fuck, I hope not." Brilliant though he was in a lab, Fitz had a tendency to set stoves on fire. Perhaps purposefully; Phil never had quite decided. "If it's dreadful I'll sneak out at midnight and get you a snack."

"Oh, I'm sneaking out with you, if that's the case." She turned in his arms, looking a tad anxious. "I really should come with you to dinner, shouldn't I?"

He understood her reticence, and it was so very Jemma to sacrifice herself for the comfort of others. That hardly seemed the wisest step, not now. "After long study I've determined that Jemmas need companionship and the love of their friends to truly thrive."

"Oh, you're an expert on all Jemmas now, are you?" she asked with an amused smirk.

"Just the best one." The shorter wisps of hair around her face were beginning to dry, drawing up into waves. "Awkward as the situation is, I do think you'll be happier if you face it head-on."

"I know."

"Besides, I'll be behind you, glaring threateningly at anyone who gives you hell." He gave her a teasing smile. "I might even shake my finger in censure."

"Terrifying," she replied with a laugh. "In that case, allons-y."

Nearly everyone was already in the kitchen when they arrived (and Trip was presiding over the stove, Phil was happy to see). After a careful count Phil realized the few holdouts: Skye, Clint, and Fury.

"She's in the vault," Natasha informed him quietly. "Talking to her father."

"Is this the first time she's ventured down there?"

"Yes." She smiled wryly. "I was attempting to wring some information out of him, and suddenly she comes marching downstairs and tells me to scram." She caught his horrified look. "More politely than that; I was paraphrasing."

"I admit I'm relieved."

"I wasn't getting anywhere, so I moved upstairs and watched the feed. She's been down there for three hours or so."

That explained Clint's disappearance. Natasha wouldn't have left the feed without someone else taking over for her, and she had likely only left to smooth the way for Jemma at dinner. "Anything interesting happen?"

"He talked, she glared. A couple of minor seismic shifts when he insisted on calling her Daisy." Natasha glanced at the table, tilting her head slightly toward Audrey and Bruce, who were discussing something quietly. "I think something's brewing there."

"Do you?" That would be an interesting pairing, and Phil's first reaction was that of relief. Not because he had believed that Audrey would never get over him- really, Phil considered himself quite lucky that she had ever given him the time of day at all- but for the simple reason that this would make things so much simpler. She deserved to be happy, and Bruce did as well. "They would suit each other."

"They would- and they both have experience with how shitty a soulbond can be, when it goes wrong." Natasha shrugged. "We'll let it be. If it happens, it happens."

She turned away from him, taking the last few steps to the table to claim the seat across from Jemma, leaving the one to Jemma's right open for him.

This was a smaller group than the one they had stormed the city with. Tony had returned to New York, taking Sam with him, and Thor had left to rejoin Dr. Foster in London. Phil had no doubt that they would all be returning to the Playground at some point, or that they would be meeting them elsewhere- which only reminded him that Pepper would doubtlessly be wishing to have words with him in the near future.

Assuming Tony had told her that Phil was still living, which was likely. The man could keep a secret, when necessary, but he rarely considered Pepper as someone he needed to keep a secret from.

Fury made no appearance during dinner, which was not a surprise. It was not until hours later, when they were back in their quarters and preparing to turn off the lights, that a knock sounded on their door.

Jemma, who was curled up in a ball around the heating pad, unwound herself with an irritable expression on her face. "Tell him midnight paperwork is not on the agenda." She settled herself against the pillows, arranging the pad against her abdomen before pulling the covers up to hide it. It was clear that she had no intention of actually getting up to greet their boss, for which he could hardly blame her.

Fury merely gave him a nod when he opened the door, glancing behind him briefly to give Jemma a similar nod of recognition. "A few minutes of your time, Phil."

After a second of consideration Phil stepped back, a silent invitation for Fury to enter. If he wanted to talk this late, Phil doubted that he would be willing to have the conversation in the open of the hall.

Fury glanced again at Jemma, then back at Phil, who shrugged in a manner that he hoped expressed his unwillingness to ask Jemma to leave the room. Fury seemed to read the message easily enough. A minute sigh was his only response to the silent dare. "I need you in North Carolina."

"When?"

"As soon as possible. One of contacts spotted Barnes wandering around Ocracoke, of all places, and once Rogers finds out I'll have to sit on him to keep him in place." Fury's aggrieved expression at that spoke volumes.

"So basically I'm on babysitting duty," Phil replied dryly. "Jemma, what are your feelings on a trip to the beach?"

"I've always wanted to track a brainwashed assassin in the dead of winter."

"Dr. Simmons is not a part of this mission," Fury interjected in a firm voice, and in response Jemma threw back the covers and dropped the pad to the floor before stomping over to them. That was the only descriptor that Phil could think of, as she made her way across the room, petite and angry in her leggings and oversized sweater. He peeked at Fury. He looked wary; good.

"And how do you intend for them to subdue Mr. Barnes?" she asked in a no-nonsense voice, not stopping until she was almost toe-to-toe with Fury. "Surely D.C. proved to you that even Steve would have a frightful time taking him down by force alone, at least not without seriously injuring the man or being seriously injured himself. You need me for this mission, sir. And you need Fitz."

"I was planning on sending Banner."

"And while Dr. Banner is an excellent physicist and a skilled doctor, he is not a biochemist. You know I have the training necessary for this job, sir."

"Yes. I also know that you are a distraction."

Phil briefly considered attacking Fury himself for that comment. "Imagine how distracted I'll be if she isn't there," he said in as calm a voice as possible. "Jemma would be an asset to this mission, and I mean that in the most professional of ways."

Fury glanced back and forth between them, scowling. "Fine," he snapped. "You leave at 0600 hours. Don't be late."

Jemma was fuming with rage when Phil turned to her after closing and locking the door. "I'm a bloody distraction? As if we're incapable of working together professionally without having sex up against the nearest surface."

"If that were the case, we would be dead a dozen times over, most likely." He started to stroke her hair, hoping to soothe her into a sleepy state. It was almost midnight as it was, and they would still have to pack in the morning. "Come to bed, sweetheart."

"I'm too angry to sleep," she grumbled, but crawled back into bed anyway, grabbing the pad as she did so. "Just once I would like for someone to assume that you're the distraction, instead of reducing me to the woman who keeps you from your duties with my magical quim."

"I find every inch of you magical, but I get your point." He nudged her onto her stomach, making sure the heating pad was under her hips before beginning to massage her lower back. "Fury knows that you're right. Banner's brilliant, but he couldn't put together a potion to knock out a supersoldier half as well as you."

"Thank you."

"I think Fury just misses how much more malleable I was before I met you." He kissed the back of her neck. "Too bad for him."

She was quiet as he continued, sighing softly as he rubbed out the worst of the ache. "Maybe I am a distraction," she said eventually. "The soulbond rather demands it."

"It does, but you're less of a distraction and more of a lens that refocuses my attention on what's more important. I think you've made me better, Jemma. Less of a company man, for sure."

"You've made me better, too." She shifted slightly under his hands, her body language indicating approaching sleep. "And your hands are magic."

"Only for you, sweetheart."

They were an odd party, Jemma thought. One supersoldier, two scientists, and two operatives walk onto a plane… Jemma wasn't sure what the punchline would be, but she was fairly certain that it would involve an actual punch.

May, of course, had already been preparing the Bus for take-off when they arrived and stowed their belongings, and by the looks of things Steve had been pacing the main deck of the plane for hours, possibly since the night before.

Fitz gave her a grumpy look when they met. "'Oh, Fitz would love to go chasing after the most dangerous man on the planet'," he said in falsetto once they were alone in the lab. "'Go knock on his door at one in the morning; he'll be so happy'."

"One, I do not sound like that, and two, I never told Fury that you would be happy about it. I just said that you were the best choice for the job." She was still mildly disgruntled by the whole affair, though a few hours of heavy sleep and some paracetamol had taken off the worst of the edge. "Unless you can think of another genius engineer on base."

"'Course I'm the best choice," he said immediately. Fitz wasn't exactly the model of humility, which Jemma generally found charming. "Especially since Dr. Banner is all tied up in keeping Skye balanced."

There had not been time for Jemma to try speaking with Skye again, and perhaps that was for the best. A part of her felt a kind of a guilty relief at being able to postpone the conversation. "Besides, it's not as if we'll be the ones taking him down. We provide the means and let Steve take care of the actual capture." She looked around them, making a mental inventory of everything at their disposal. "Let's brainstorm."

By the time Fitz dragged her upstairs for food- his stomach generally was more insistent than hers, especially when she was caught up in work- they had come up with several options for the collecting and keeping of supersoldiers. When Steve walked into the kitchen halfway through their meal, Fitz immediately began interrogating him on Barnes' speed and level of strength, and it quickly became clear to Jemma- though not, perhaps, Steve- that Fitz was planning on using Captain America as a guinea pig for whatever restraints he came up with. Jemma did not think that she would be getting a chance to test the new sedative she was considering on him, which was a small disappointment.

The flight to their destination was not a particularly long one. By nightfall of the same day May had landed the Bus in a remote clearing near the coast, far enough from civilization that the cloaking device would likely be enough to keep them from prying eyes. "We'll have to split up, if we go out into public," she noted when they had all gathered in the briefing room. "Two women and three men wandering around off-season would look suspicious."

"True enough. Jemma, are you interested in taking a drive?" Phil asked. "Bit too cold for Lola, unfortunately."

It was a blustery, frigid day, so that was quite the understatement. "It wouldn't hurt to pick up some groceries and take a look around," she agreed. Two would definitely be less conspicuous than five, and if they played up the honeymooner angle they could get away with it. "Let me grab my coat."

Between the gray sky and gray sea, their surroundings were not exactly cheery as they made the drive to town. "It is probably lovely in the summer," she said as they drove past a stand of bare trees. "I'm having difficulty believing that Barnes chose here, though. You would think that he would hide in a larger city."

"I know." Phil looked a little glum as he stopped for a light. "We might be spinning our wheels."

There were a number of small cottages built along the coastline, though to Jemma's eyes they looked empty and abandoned. Summer residences, she guessed. Rented out to tourists during the nicer months after a good airing out, and after being swept free of spiderwebs and the sand that managed to slip through the cracks. Probably too drafty for winter use.

Her suspicions on that score were confirmed in the small grocers they found near the middle of town. Phil had driven past the larger store on the outskirts of the city, where they might have been relatively anonymous but would have missed out on local gossip. This place looked more like a family business, and the resemblance between the two women behind the counter strengthened the theory. "Cold enough for you?" one asked as she began to ring up their items, the selection chosen as if they really were just feeding two people. The woman gave them a friendly grin. "We don't see many tourists, this time of the year."

"I promised my wife a vacation before tax season really got going," Phil replied easily. "Once we get home she won't see me until after April 15, probably."

"Silly me for letting him pick the destination." Jemma shook her head, giving him a mock-scolding look.

"We had our honeymoon here," he explained to the cashier. "I thought it would be romantic."

"In January?" she said with a laugh, exchanging a look with Jemma that clearly read men, am I right? "Bless your heart. You aren't staying in one of those freezing cottages, are you?"

"Yes," Jemma replied, allowing a slightly sour note to seep into her voice. "It has a fireplace, at least."

"Well, if you run low on wood, give Frank a call." The cashier handed her a business card. "He won't overcharge you, and he won't try to slip green wood into the pile, either."

"That is very kind, thank you." Jemma tucked the card away. feeling as if she had a good handle on the situation- or at least a good enough handle that she wouldn't start making wild accusations about prostitutes. "Those cottages were not built for winter, unfortunately!"

"No, they weren't. I don't know how that writer is holding up in his." The cashier shook her head. "I know for a fact that he doesn't have a fireplace, poor lamb."

"Anyone we would know?" Phil asked in casual interest, taking the bag in his arms.

"Don't think so. He's got that tortured artist look, all stubble and dark eyes." The woman- who looked to be in her thirties- suddenly blushed. "Polite, though. Fond of poptarts."

The conversation went nowhere after that, but Jemma knew they had struck gold- and judging by the expression on Phil's face once they were safely in the car, he knew it too. "We might have gotten lucky, sweetheart."

"Don't jinx us, Phil," she replied, but felt the same excitement.

"Knock on wood, then."