As a boy, one of Phil's favorite games of make-believe had been skulking through the underbrush of his backyard, pretending that he was a member of the Howling Commandos on the trail of Nazi war criminals. He had related that memory to Jemma once, who had laughed and asked him if Peggy Carter ever came along on those escapades, only to laugh harder when he had admitted that he had never really thought about Peggy until later in his life, when make-believe had taken a rather less innocent turn.

And hell, had those memories been embarrassing the first few times he had actually met Director Carter in the flesh. She had a way of looking at Phil as if she could actually read his mind; he was fairly sure that he had blushed the entire time.

"Phil, are you telling me that you wanked to thoughts of Peggy Carter?" Jemma had asked, sporting a wicked grin. "Teenage Phil Coulson alone in his bedroom… thinking about British badass bombshells…"

"I had a type even then," he had replied with a slight smile. "Have mercy on me, Jem. The way she was drawn in the comic books-"

She had given him a mock pout, sketching exaggerated curves over her own more modest ones. "A bit of a sex kitten, was she?"

"Teenage boys are horny monsters, Jemma."

"Hmmm."

Jemma was a terrible actress in public, but the way she could shift demeanors on a dime in private was fascinating. She had fluttered her eyelashes at him before pulling the dress she had been wearing off over her head. "However can I repay you for rescuing me from those scary soldiers?" Breathier than her usual tone, red lace under the dress, and oh fuck he had definitely had this fantasy before. "Surely you would like a little… reward."

That had been a marvelous night.

Now… now, however, he was hiding in beach grass next to Captain America, binoculars trained on a seemingly empty beach house, and a part of his mind was frantically babbling you jerked off to a fictionalized version of one of his soulmates you unmitigated creep.

It was freezing, but that felt appropriate, given his mood. "Three hours and he hasn't moved," he muttered quietly, adjusting the binoculars slightly. They were fitted with heat sensing lenses, so there was no question that someone was, indeed, inside… just a very still someone. "Not even the twitch of a muscle, Steve."

"He knows." Steve shifted slightly, as if he were about to rise to his feet, before settling. "Shit, Bucky, what game is this?"

As if he had heard Steve's voice, the bright figure inside stood, turned- and then walked to the door.

"A bit cold, don't you think?" the man asked, and for a moment Phil actually felt his brain shorting out.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," he groaned, dragging himself to his feet. "You are dead."

"Looked like a cool club. Thought I'd join." Jasper Sitwell leaned against the doorframe, almost unrecognizable in the dim, pre-dawn light. A baseball cap was snugged down over what looked to be hair- a wig, Phil was guessing- and like the cashier had said, he was wearing some impressive stubble on his chin and cheeks.

Steve was standing, now, an incredulous expression on his face. "You were a smear on the pavement."

"Oh, I remember." Jasper considered that briefly. "Not the actual smear part. But the before and after, yeah."

"Bucky pulled you from a moving car."

"I thought that was rude." Jasper glanced toward Phil. "Don't you think, Phil? And by the way- Tahiti, not so magical."

"Yeah, I really oversold that," Phil replied slowly. "Are you-"

"Hydra? Nah. Never was. I make a great patsy, remember? A pity Captain Rogers didn't get that memo, otherwise he never would have let Romanov toss me off a fucking roof."

"We don't have any proof that you were working for SHIELD," Steve countered, and Jasper shrugged easily.

"SHIELD, Hydra- kind of the same thing, for a while there. I would appreciate it if you wait until after you verify my claim to toss me off another roof. Call Hill; she'll back me up." Jasper walked further out onto the small porch. "So, care to put a fellow zombie up for the night? My accommodations, though charming, leave a lot to be desired."

Phil didn't need to look over at Steve to know that he was glaring at everyone in general. "Jemma would never forgive me if I didn't bring you in long enough for her to get a few blood samples."

Jasper- who had been on his way down the steps- stopped abruptly. "No. Phil."

"Price of admission, Jasper."

"The woman shot me in the chest."

Steve looked interested at that. "Really? I heard about the time she attacked Fury-"

"Phil, what kind of hell-beast are you bonded to?"

"Hey," Phil cut in sharply. "My lovely wife has a gentle soul."

Jasper sighed, looking resigned. "You married her. You idiot."

"Don't make me punch you, Jasper."

Jemma was unnerved to see that Steve, on first entering the Bus, was once more giving her that look of careful examination, as if he were expecting her to vault over Lola and knock him to the ground.

Seeing Jasper Sitwell enter behind him gave that look context, and the burn on her cheeks told her that she was blushing fiercely.

"Oh look," Fitz murmured beside her. "A former superior officer, whom you violently assaulted."

The entire escapade- especially the moment when she had been forced to run and beg for May's help like an errant schoolgirl- ranked low on Jemma's hierarchy of memories on the Bus. The expression of tired disapproval Phil had given her after the fact hadn't helped, though when she had snuck up to his room in the wee hours of the morning he had wrapped himself around her more tightly than ever before, his breath ruffling her hair.

"A former turncoat who is supposed to be dead," she hissed in reply, stifling her automatic moan when Steve's lips twitched. Even all the way across the bay, he had heard that little quip.

"Jemma, bust out your best set of needles," Phil said calmly as he followed the other two up the ramp. "Jasper here would be thrilled to donate a sample of his blood for analysis."

She couldn't deny that the thought sparked her scientific curiosity. "You always give the best presents," she replied, kissing him on the cheek once he reached her. "Thank you, Phil."

"I'm not that thrilled." Jasper said the words in a mutinous tone, but took a seat on a stool when she pointed at it. "I hope you're better at finding a vein than the last nurse I had."

"I'm an excellent phlebotomist, thank you."

Jasper winced as she slid in the needle, but looked resolutely away from her and focused on the others. "How did you find me, exactly?"

"We actually didn't come looking for you." Phil quirked a small smile. "We were sent to find the Winter Soldier."

Jasper huffed a dry laugh. "Me? The Winter Soldier? I'm not sure whether to be flattered or suggest that your spies need an eye exam."

"The latter," Steve said grimly. "What's your story, Sitwell? You should be in pieces."

"Your buddy tossed me over the highway and onto the shoulder of the road." Jasper shrugged one shoulder. "Probably broke every bone in my body- I don't have any memories of that part. I woke up in a lab a few weeks later."

"SHIELD?" Phil asked, leaning against a nearby counter.

"Judging by the skull-and-octopus-arms on the wall and lab coats, no. Apparently I am such a good patsy that Hydra decided to use me as a guinea pig for their own resurrection process." Jasper relaxed slightly as she smoothed a small bandage over the puncture site. "They didn't have a clue that I was SHIELD, thankfully. I considered sticking around, gathering some more info, but the medical tests they were doing kept getting more invasive, so I decided to hit the road before an autopsy was added to the list."

"Do you know how they brought you back?" Jemma asked.

"No clue. They weren't forthcoming on that, when I asked." Jasper glanced around the lab, then at the small group surrounding him. "Please tell me you didn't really think that a group of just five could subdue the Winter Soldier."

"It was very nearly a group of four." Phil shot her a sly look, his amusement barely hidden. "Jemma convinced Fury to rethink the matter."

"Of course she-"

Jasper stopped mid-sentence. "Fury's alive?"

He received only Phil's blandest expression in reply. "That fucking bastard." He turned to look at Jemma. "You really attacked Fury? Really?"

Jemma wasn't entirely sure how had she gone from avoiding bad-girl shenanigans to arguing with Nicholas Fury and receiving wary looks from men who could pound her into the ground with one blow, if they were minded to, but she was growing used to the change.

Poor Steve looked rather as if his own dreams had been ground to dust. "So now we start all over." He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "He could be anywhere."

"True, but now we're a group of six," May said, the barest hint of amusement in her voice.

Jasper straightened in alarm. "I did not volunteer for this."

"No, you're being conscripted," Phil replied smoothly. "At least until we're back at the base. Don't worry, we'll do our best to keep you off the highway."

"Phil-"

"What, you'd rather be hiding from Hydra in a freezing cottage?"

"You're just a jerk, sometimes."

Jemma frowned at that, but supposed he had a point.

"Well," Jasper continued, his tone slightly acidic, "where to?"

They all considered each other for a moment, and it was May, surprisingly, who sighed and spoke first. "Let me make a call."

Jemma was interested to note that Phil looked vaguely uneasy at those words, as did Jasper. "I suppose that is an option," Phil replied cautiously.

"I won't make any promises, Phil," May said as she began to climb the stairs, the words sounding almost ominous.

Steve glanced back and forth between Phil and Jasper, his gaze suspicious. "Who, exactly, is May calling?"

Phil hesitated briefly before answering, and while his words were otherwise unexceptional, his tone served as warning enough. "Her mother."

As Phil had expected, May's mother was perfectly willing to help them… for a price.

"A sample of his blood, once we catch him," May said after an extensive conversation via a sat phone. "I told her we would consider it."

"He's not a lab rat," Steve said immediately, his expression stubborn.

"Just one vial." May shrugged slightly. "Very reasonable, for my mother."

"And what does she intend to do with it?"

"I didn't ask."

Phil wasn't sure he wanted to know. He trusted May's mother, up to a point, but she was always playing a very complex game behind the scenes, even when she was being helpful. He didn't think that she would use the sample for anything dangerous, but he wasn't willing to swear to it, either. "What's your read on her motives, May?"

"I think she wants an edge," May replied simply, and that did make sense. May's mother was too cunning, too careful, to allow an advantage slip by. Her own cadre of loyal scientists would unlock any secrets in that blood sample, and then she would tuck the knowledge away as yet another ace up her sleeve.

"I'm for it," Phil said after considering the idea further. "Steve?"

"I don't like it, but you aren't leaving me much of a choice, here." He sighed. "She's as good as you say?"

"None better," Phil confirmed, and the expression of reluctant admiration on Jasper's face backed him up.

"Fine. One vial, though. Just the one." Steve turned and left the room, irritation evident in his quick walk.

"I'll let her know that we've accepted her terms." May paused, giving Jasper a significant look until he rolled his eyes and left the room. Only once the two of them were alone did she continue. "She's going to try and recruit Fitzsimmons."

"Is that a guess or a certainty?"

"She's mentioned them a few times in passing. You might have had their records wiped, but you know her." He was skilled in reading May, and she looked both amused and chagrined under her typical reserve. "She said that she hoped you were treating Simmons well."

"Tell your mother that my wife is very happy." He adjusted his tie, almost insulted by the implication. "You aren't upset that we ran off and eloped, are you?"

"No, but my mother might be. You know she's always liked you." She glanced toward the door, and when she looked back a small, but true, smile was on her face. "Watching Rogers and Fury dance around Simmons is one of the most amusing things I've seen in years."

Phil rather enjoyed the sight, as well. "Will you help me train her?"

"I don't think she needs advice on how to terrify grown men with a look."

"No, but I'd like her to be able to drop one with a punch, as well." He met her gaze, utterly serious. "I can't tell her how to work with the height and frame she was born with. She's small- she has advantages other than strength."

"I can do that." May leaned against the wall, looking thoughtful. "What are you going to do about Skye, Phil?"

"She's holding a grudge against Jemma," he said flatly. "She might not be meaning to, or see it that way, but she is."

"I'm not denying it."

"I put Jemma aside to spare someone's feelings once, and it was a terrible mistake. I won't do it again." He was on the verge of arguing, though he had a feeling that a fight wasn't May's intent. "This is why I stepped aside when Fury came back, May. I'm too tired to take on the world by myself."

"I'm not asking you to." She tilted her head slightly to the side. "I'm glad you took what I said to heart."

All those months ago, when Skye had been in her coma and he had almost let Jemma run herself ragged- you can't go alone on this. "Jemma is my heart."

The look she gave him was somewhat withering. "No need to be a sap, Phil."

"Tell your mother to keep her hands off my scientists, then."

"As if I've ever been able to control my mother." She left his office with her usual determined stride, shaking her head.

Phil was fairly sure that neither Jemma nor Fitz would accept the offer, though he wasn't one hundred percent positive. May's mother had the cash to buy some very serious equipment, and it wasn't as if SHIELD could offer them top of the line, at the moment. Jemma would most likely refuse simply because he still worked for SHIELD (though the May matriarch would realize that, and what she would offer him to switch allegiances he could only imagine), and if Jemma stayed, Fitz would probably stay. So it was unlikely that she would accomplish much of anything.

Probably.

"You aren't feeling the urge to defect, are you?" he asked Jemma when he next saw her alone. She had made her way up to his office after lunch, looking a little sleepy. "This isn't a random question, unfortunately."

"I hadn't considered it." She sat on the couch, kicking off her shoes. "Why, is it on your agenda?"

"No. May's mother might make you an offer."

Her expression was amused as she considered him. "The idea terrifies you, I can tell."

"Think Natasha in forty years, with added ruthlessness and absolutely devoted servitors awaiting her every whim."

"How's the retirement plan?"

He tried not to shudder. "Excellent, provided you make it to that point."

"Hmm." She drew her legs up onto the couch, curling up into the corner. "No, I think I'll stay with SHIELD as a wanted criminal."

"Thank you." He had a very strongly worded communique intended for Fury waiting for its final touches, but he had a hunch that leaving it for a bit and coming back with a fresh mind would be the wiser course. "Because I would have to follow you, if you decided to leave." He sat next to her, pulling her feet into his lap and ridding her of her socks. "You look tense."

"Oh, had a spat with Fitz about the best vehicle for my new paralysis serum." She sighed, wriggling deeper into the cushions as he began to massage one of her feet. "Hell, that feels good. Don't stop."

"You haven't stopped to sit down for hours, have you?" He considered her face, noting the pinched look of strain she wore. "What happened with Fitz?"

"Oh, he's hung up on using the DWARFs to deliver the serum, should we ever find Mr. Barnes. Says that it would be safer, but I think he just finds the idea thrilling." She shook her head. "I think it far more likely that our target would just swat Grumpy out of the sky and shatter the poor thing, and then I'll have to spend a week listening to Fitz whinge."

"I think you're probably right."

"Besides, the weight of the serum would slow the DWARFs down. The only effective way of delivering it would be with the propulsion only a gun could provide." She frowned at that. "But when I told Captain Rogers, he gave me this horrified look and said that he didn't want to shoot him. Does he seriously expect that the Winter Soldier is just going to let us inject him with a paralytic? My serum isn't fatal, for goodness sake, it will just give us time to secure the man."

"I think he still sees Barnes as his friend, previous experience aside."

"Yes." Jemma was silent for a few moments, her eyelids slipping closed as he continued his work. "And I've run a few tests on Sitwell's blood."

"Anything interesting?"

"He's definitely been exposed to the GH325- or some variant of it, anyway. His blood doesn't show the same markers I found in yours, or in Skye's. It's almost as if he was injected with a manufactured version."

That was not good news, not at all. "So it's entirely possible that Hydra has managed to create their own formula for the stuff?"

"I'm afraid so. It's genius, really. If they weren't evil bastards I would be applauding."

"I don't mind you appreciating excellent craftsmanship, sweetheart." He gave her a teasing grin, stroking the arch of one foot lightly. "Don't feel guilty about that."

"The knowledge of how many human subjects they went through before they found the right formula dampens my enthusiasm." She sighed, her eyes closing again- and then opened them abruptly when the Bus' engines began to rumble. "Do we have a lead?"

"Not that I know of." Placing her feet to the side, he moved to the intercom. "May?"

"Buckle up. I'll explain after we're in the air," May told him tersely over the line. "We have a problem."

The problem, they learned some twenty minutes later, was not an entirely unexpected one, though certainly unwelcome.

"Someone was paying attention," May said, pulling up the local news channel on the screen in the briefing room. Phil saw with sinking dread that the perky blonde newscaster was discussing in bubbly tones the appearance of two wanted criminals in the Ocracoke area- and the grainy footage she was narrating over was of himself and Jemma in the small grocery store.

"I thought they looked shifty," the cashier who had helped them told the interviewer seriously. "And they wanted to know about that poor writer who was staying in the area. I bet they were with the Mob."

Jasper snickered at that, his laughter more pronounced when the newscaster informed her unseen audience that the writer in question had disappeared, and that the police were investigating foul play due to signs of a struggle at his rented residence.

"There was no struggle," Phil said indignantly. "This isn't funny, Jasper."

"We've got an APB labelling the two of you armed and dangerous. I think that's pretty funny."

Jemma was frowning beside him, and though she was striving to look professional Phil could see the hint of panic in her eyes. "Is this only on the local news?"

"For now," May replied. "It's been a slow news day, so the channels in the Triangle might pick it up. Fury already knows."

"Of course he does." Phil considered his teammates. "Well, this means Jemma and I won't be doing reconnaissance in the near future. Fitz, next time we have a lead I'm sending you out with May."

"Me?" Fitz asked, horrified. "Won't that look suspicious?"

May was also giving Phil a look, though hers had nothing to do with horror and everything to do with her disdain at undercover work. "A better choice than sending out Rogers," she admitted in a begrudging tone. "Fitz, come with me. We'll figure out a cover."

"What kind of possible cover could we have?"

"We'll figure out our mark words and go from there."

"What?"

Jemma looked somewhat amused by Fitz's obvious panic as he followed May out of the room. "Poor Fitz," she said softly, drumming her fingers on the table. "What are we going to do, Phil?"

"Don't worry too much," Jasper interjected. "It isn't as if anyone knows your face beyond whatever report got you noticed."

His tone was dismissive, as if he thought Jemma were worrying over nothing- but then, he had missed the whole to-do with Ward and his bidders. Even Steve, who only knew the barest of details about that threat, was frowning at Jasper. "The situation is more serious than you know," he said.

"What, they'll take away her Nobel candidacy?" Jasper responded flippantly. "Any hopes at winning prizes for good behavior went down the drain when SHIELD fell, Simmons."

Jemma replied before Phil could snap out a cutting remark. "Thank you," she said in a cool voice. "I never would have guessed, otherwise." She left, looking straight ahead as she disappeared down the corridor. She was going in the direction of the lab, but Phil had a feeling that she would be finding a private corner to catch her breath in somewhere along the way.

Jasper watched her go, his gaze considering. "Okay, I screwed up, didn't I?"

"The world didn't stop for us while you were in hiding," Phil replied tersely. "Jemma doesn't need any more exposure than she's already gotten."

"Point made, Phil." Jasper ran a hand over the stubble on his face, grimacing. "I need to get rid of this. I'll apologize next time I see her."

A small gesture, but a kind one, nonetheless. Phil's cell rang before he could make his way after Jemma, and before he even drew the phone out of his pocket he knew exactly who was calling.

"Hello, Nick," he said, silencing his sigh. "Yes, I have seen the news. Stop yelling."

It was May who tracked her down, finding her in an out of the way nook almost an hour later and pulling her into the bay. Mats had already been laid out on the floor, and Jemma knew with tired certainty exactly how this was going to play out.

"Try again," May said twenty minutes later, when Jemma found herself on her back for the third time. "If you're afraid of hurting me, put that out of your mind. I doubt you can."

"Maybe I just don't have the strength," Jemma replied. "And if I can't throw you to the ground, I'm lost against a larger opponent."

"You have the strength. This is physics, Simmons. Let science do the work for you."

Logically Jemma knew that May was correct. She could even calculate why the move should work, but the moment May locked her arms around Jemma's midsection she froze, every time. "Can't I just run away?"

"When possible, yes. But most people won't do you the favor of attacking in a broad space. They'll corner you, or they'll attack in a room like this." May inclined her head toward the rest of the bay, her gesture including the metal stairs, the catwalk, and the vehicles that impeded a quick escape. "You can't just bolt like a rabbit. Let's try again."

By the time May let her leave, Jemma ached in every part of her body and her blouse had a rip under one arm. Fitz had watched most of the ordeal from the safety of the lab, and he gave her a commiseratory grimace when she caught his gaze. "Try her with a fire extinguisher," he called out. "She can really pack a wallop with those."

Jemma was fairly certain that May was hiding a smile. "She can't expect that every room she finds herself trapped in will be up to code," was all May said as she ascended the staircase. "But I'll keep that in mind."

"I had good reason to smack you with that," Jemma grumbled after May had left, inspecting the ripped seam as best she could without a mirror. "I should bloody well do it again."

"Have pity on me, Jem. May's threatening to scribble a fake mark under my chin."

"I hope it's obvious and obnoxious."

Phil gave her a long look when she entered his office, his gaze lingering on the patch of skin showing under her arm. "May didn't let you change?"

"She said I should get used to moving in my regular clothing." Jemma began to dig through her bag, pulling out loose, comfortable pieces to change into after her shower. "I rather liked this blouse."

"Do you need anything?"

They were both carefully avoiding the topic at hand, though she could tell that he was being circumspect out of deference to her. "Maybe a hug."

He was up and had his arms around her in seconds. "Back when I still sparred with May she knocked me on my ass four times out of five," he offered as he rubbed her back. She felt rather bad about the situation, because he was pulled together so nicely and she was disheveled and covered in sweat, but he didn't seem to care.

"I don't know why she decided to take me to the mats in the first place," she mumbled against his chest, and the way he shifted slightly gave her a clue. "Oh, Phil. You didn't."

"You need more self-defense training," he said immediately, sounding as if he had rehearsed the line. "I was planning on asking you, but May got to you first."

"Ugh. Fine." He was right, and she was too tired to argue. "I'll let May throw me around the room on a daily basis."

"Thank you, sweetheart." The way he said the words told her that he sincerely meant them. "When you're ready you can use me as a training dummy."

The idea of grappling with Phil on the mats was a bit of a turn-on, in all honesty. "You're willing to get a collection of bruises for me? How sweet."

"If you can pin me I'll let you do whatever you want to me," he promised, his hands dipping low to curve over her arse. She pressed closer for a brief moment before breaking away with a sigh. Stupid menses, always getting in the way of her fun.

"You would let me do that anyway," she said with a soft smile, collecting her things again and heading toward the shower. "Wouldn't you, Phil?"

"Admittedly, yes."

"What a lovely man you are."

May's mother sent them footage from several traffic cameras in Boston, and to Boston they went, where May left the Bus with a slightly terrified looking Fitz trailing after her.

"Oh, Fitz," Jemma said with a sigh as she watched them leave. "He'll never convince anyone, at this rate."

Phil shared the same fear, but May must have given the man some kind of pep talk on the drive into town, because when the cameras embedded in the glasses the pair wore were engaged, May's view briefly showed a much calmer Fitz walking along beside her.

The footage they had received of the man who might or might not be Barnes had come from one particular part of the city, one which was still a little run down, but was gentrifying quickly.

"It's such a beautiful neighborhood," May was saying, her voice so uncharacteristically bright that it set Phil on edge. "We knew that we wanted to settle in Boston, didn't we, darling?"

There was only the briefest of pauses before Fitz replied, his "Definitely" barely passing muster. He did, however, have a very good American accent. Phil had to give him points for that.

The realtor chattered about property values and marble countertops as she showed them around the apartment. Phil was forced to re-evaluate his review of Fitz's acting skills at one point, when May said that the small second bedroom would be perfect for a nursery and the Scot didn't even skip a beat before confirming.

"Oh, God," Jasper muttered on the other side of the holo-table, his eyes wide.

"They would probably have very attractive children," Jemma mused, almost as if to herself, and then blinked in surprise when everyone turned to stare at her. "What? It's a simple fact."

"You have a scary mind," Jasper informed her seriously.

It was as Fitz and May were strolling down the icy sidewalk that a promising suspect walked out of one of the older apartment buildings, one that verged on almost seedy. Steve straightened, peering intently at the footage. "That's Bucky."

"We've only seen a handful of frames-"

"No, that's Bucky." There was no doubt in Steve's mind, obviously, though Phil himself was feeling plenty of doubt. "I'll go and get him tonight."

Said as if Steve were just running down to the corner store for some milk. "Even at the dodgy end of the neighborhood people will notice if Captain America starts causing a row," Jemma pointed out. "He won't go without a fight."

"I'll use your weapon," he replied through gritted teeth. "Tonight."

Phil exchanged a glanced with Jemma, who gave him a worried shrug. He knew that Fitz eventually had come around to her line of thinking, but last he had heard Fitz was still fine-tuning the gun in question. "It wouldn't hurt to survey the neighborhood for another day," he said, eyeing the new feeds that were popping up as May casually planted the small cameras Fitz had created for just this kind of mission. "See if he has a pattern."

"He won't have a pattern," Jasper said unexpectedly. "You're stalling, Phil."

Some help he was. "I'm being cautious. There is a difference."

"He won't have a pattern, but his neighbors might," Jemma said, pointing the pen she held at the images. "And it's a Saturday. People will be up later than usual, perhaps even walking home late from evenings out. We'd be safer waiting for Sunday night, when most will be tucked into bed at a reasonable hour."

It was the look of begrudging acceptance on Steve's face that told Phil surveillance was a go for another twenty-four hours or so. "We'll have to move quickly, though. There will be noise, and the police will be called."

"Who's going to arrest Captain America?" Steve asked with a wry smile. "Not the Boston PD, I bet."

"No, but if you talk with them, soon everyone and their mother will know that Barnes is in our custody." Phil resisted the urge to rub at his forehead. It wouldn't help with his headache, anyway. "Rumlow is a big enough problem as it is; I would prefer if he didn't have an actual reason to focus his sights on us. Let him run around chasing his own tail for as long as possible."

"Fine." Steve sighed in resignation. "Fine."

"I just hope the cell on board will hold him," Jasper said, leading to Jemma giving Phil a questioning look.

"It held an Asgardian." Phil shrugged, feeling completely done with this insane mission. "It's the best we have."

"That's very reassuring."

Reaching out and smacking the man on the head would be childish and not at all professional. "Thank you for your input, Jasper."

"You're welcome."

May's laughter trilled across the comms, and everyone winced in some kind of Pavlovian response.

"I'd better double-check my formula, then," Jemma said quietly, giving his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the room.

"She isn't going to test it on me, is she?" Jasper asked seriously.

"Doubtful." Phil took a beat, then continued. "It was engineered for super soldiers, after all."

The scolding frown Steve gave him for that was its own reward.