Missing Scenes, "Seeds"
by Sammie

Summary, author's notes, disclaimer in part 1.

"Leopold Fitz." Amador dropped his file down in his hands. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Might as well be." The man's Scottish accent was obvious, but it was no longer as thick as Garrett remembered from the countless number of old SHIELD teaching videos. The face that had always seemed preternaturally youthful in photos from the 1980s now showed every line of his fifty years of age.

"Cyanide?" Garrett exclaimed as he walked around the man's chair, waving the capsule Amador had kicked from his hand during the pursuit. "What did you think we were going to do to you?!"

"What they did to everyone else on my team," he replied in a tired but matter-of-fact tone.

"Your team. We were wondering about that one," Garrett replied dropping into the chair across from the Scot.

Amador blinked, looking at the team leader.

"Oh, yeah." Garrett grinned big as he settled back in his chair, crossing his leg at ankle and at knee. "We have before us one of SHIELD's living legends," he said to his subordinate agent, waving a hand at the other man as he grinned. "And he worked with one, too."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! Watch it!" Fitz scolded, his accent thick when he was upset. He gently pulled his pet project from Simmons. "That's the night-night gun."

"Well, it's on my stuff," Simmons huffed as she gathered her things, "and it doesn't work, and there's no way we're calling it the 'night-night' gun!"

"The bullets work," Fitz retorted, pointing an indignant finger at her. "Non-lethal, heavy-stopping power - break up under the subcutaneous tissue - "

" - with a dose of only point-one microliters of dendrotoxin," Simmons returned, irritated. She slid her shoulder bag off onto the lab floor. "I can't create instant paralysis with that. You should have run the specs by me before building the molds," she scolded her lab partner as she walked to the table.

"The bullets are hollow!" Fitz hollered back. "It's a marvel I can keep them from breaking apart in the chamber - "

" - or used a higher-caliber round or read a book on - "

" - have you ever heard of physics or...what's the other one? Inertia! It's not particularly difficult - "

There was a loud thud. Both stopped their squabbling instantly to look at the suited stranger. "FitzSimmmons?" he asked in irritation.

"Fitz," she said, pointing at the Scot with a smile.

"Simmons," he replied, pointing back at her. "I'm engineering. She's - " he paused in supreme irritation " - biochem." He looked over the other man. "Agent Ward?"

The man didn't even try to contain his distaste. He held up a receiver. "Coulson said I'd need my comm receiver encoded," he said as he handed it to the engineer. "Don't know if you've worked with that model before. It's - "

Fitz picked up a hammer pounded the receiver to pieces.

" - brand-new." Ward's tone showed clear irritation and impatience - which neither of the scientists noticed.

Simmons tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaning down to write something on a pad. "He'll re-purpose the IDIS chip."

"Don't need the external receiver for the inner-ear comms any more," Fitz explained as he held up the chip with a pair of tweezers.

Ward paused, scratching his ear as he looked at the engineer. "So, uh, how does it - urgm - "

Simmons' hands were gentle but firm on his face, turning it to look at her as she came at him with a long swab. "Embedded sensorineural silicone matched to your DNA," she explained as she swabbed his mouth all over. "It's very posh." She examined the swab, then slipped it into a little plastic case before beaming at him. "So are you excited to be coming on our journey into mystery?" Her eyes were wide with excitement.

Ward was looking at her, his tongue still sweeping his mouth in puzzled irritation. "It's like Christmas," he deadpanned.

She wrinkled her nose in delight as she turned away.

Ward turned just as tires screeched on the metal of the bus. He turned to see the cherry red convertible pull into the cargo bay. "One of Coulson's old SHIELD collectibles," Fitz chuckled in amusement. "Flamethrowers. World's first GPS. He's mad for this crap."

A technician approached to secure the car to the deck. Coulson glared. "Don't touch Lola."

Fitz grinned. "And he calls it a girl's name!" He chuckled and slapped Ward on the shoulder.

Ward wandered up the stairs, following Coulson. "Lola's not just a collectible, you know," the agent was saying. "People tend to confuse the words 'new' and 'improved'. ... Did you hear the one about the guy who's afraid of flying?"

Ward's tone was all business. "I've done a night jump into a drop zone under heavy fire, sir. I can handle it."

Coulson blinked, giving him a look. "That was a - joke," the man began, half-incredulous the other didn't get it. "The first part of a - I'm not gonna tell it now."

A small Asian woman approached, a binder in hand. "If you plan to unpack, make it quick," she said to both men. "Wheels are up in five." To Coulson she handed the binder. "Hit on the information you were looking for."

"Good," Coulson said, opening the binder to read. "We need to do some catching up."

Ward blinked, his eyes following the departing figure out of the room. "Is that - who I think it is?"

Coulson just looked at him briefly, then back down to his file. "She's just the pilot."

Ward's done was in disbelief. "Melinda May is - 'just the pilot.'" He paused. Getting no answer, he said, "Come on, sir. What game are you really playing?"

Coulson just smiled enigmatically. "Better stow your gear," he said as he headed up to his office, the plane's engines revving up.

Amador blinked. "You worked with Phil Coulson and Melinda May?" she asked, her tone changing from skepticism to one of surprised respectfulness.

"Not only that, this is one half of FitzSimmons," Garrett replied with an amused grin, leaning over to the younger woman. "SciOps' youngest graduates to date - TODAY's date. Most of their crap we still use today, including that DNA-coded inner-ear comm you were wearing when we caught him."

Amador gave her boss a look. "So," she said in a deadpan tone, "I suppose it wasn't 'crap', then."

Garrett thought about that, then conceded it with a tilt of his head. He turned back to Fitz. "I wanted to get on that team so bad," the man chuckled. "I applied, and when I didn't get picked, my SO even tried to help me by saying I needed more training - and who better than Melinda 'the Cavalry' May and Grant Ward?" He laughed. "There were only two specialists who ever bested Grant Ward's scores: Melinda May and Natasha Romanoff. He was a legend himself." Garrett paused, then shook his head, sobering. "Losing you guys was a pretty big blow to morale," he commented.

"So sorry to inconvenience everybody," Fitz muttered sarcastically.

"How long had you been working together when your teammates died?" Amador asked.

"Two and a half years," Fitz nodded. "We were - pretty well-oiled by then. Familiar with each other." He was quiet a moment, caught in his own memories, before taking a deep breath. "No point in hashing old memories. So what do you want to know?"

Akela gave her boss a brief glance as he got up and disappeared into the kitchen. She looked at the Scot. "Everything you can tell us, preferably. From start to finish."

"That's going to take a long time."

"We've got it. And we need to know."

Fitz leaned back in the chair, tired. He closed his eyes.

"Food!" Fitz shouted in glee as Ward pulled the SHIELD Jeep Cherokee up onto the ramp of the cargo plane. He was out the door of the lab before the car was even parked. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Simmons sighed as she followed behind.

"You better appreciate the amount of time it took to find that beer," Ward commented as he opened the driver's side door, Jemma pulling it open from her end.

"Why? Were you asked for identification of age?" Fitz asked as he leaned in the passenger's side door to get out the bags of food.

"No," Ward replied dryly, looking across the driver's console to the engineer. "I'm not you."

Simmons, standing in the driver's side doorway, laughed, and Ward grinned.

Fitz glared. He held up an indignant finger, pointing it towards the other two. "Time will come when you won't make fun of me for that. You'll be jealous. You'll be jealous, wrinkly, old hags." He jerked the bags of Chinese takeout of the car.

"Did you find it?" Simmons asked, her eyes shining.

"Your wish is my command," Ward replied, his eyes twinkling as he handed her a small drink carrier.

She turned the carrier around and beamed in delight. "Oh, you're a dear!" she exclaimed, pecking him on the cheek as she clasped it to her chest. "Was it very hard to find?" she asked, her nose wrinkling in sympathy.

"If you count the embarrassment of calling ten liquor stores in the phonebook and asking for 'Wells Banana Bread Beer' and being laughed at," Ward replied, climbing out of the car, then shutting and locking it.

They headed upstairs. Simmons put the other bottles of beer into the refrigerator as Fitz distributed the cartons of food. Ward walked in and set the team Compaq portable computer down on the counter, then attached a cord into one of the ports and typed quickly, logging on to the SHIELD network.

"Isn't this information sharing network brilliant?" Fitz grinned as he came over, watching over his shoulder. "It's going to revolutionize the way we do technology."

"Not if the public gets to it," Ward replied, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"What are you talking about?" Fitz shook his head. "Doctors will be able to consult with each other around the world. Professors can teach classes, regardless of the weather or the distance. Families can share information instantaneously. The Sharingnet is a brilliant idea."

Ward gave him a look. "I thought they were calling it the Internet."

"That's such a boring name," Fitz snorted.

"And trust me," Ward replied as he scrolled through messages, "for all your lofty ideas, most people are going to use the thing to post pictures of themselves doing idiotic things, watch videos of cats, and stalk other people."

The smile fell of Fitz's face, and he stared at the other man, his chopsticks poised over his cartoon of food. "Seriously, Ward? Have a little faith in humanity."

Ward looked at him with an incredulous look. "Fitz, have you even met humans?" He looked back at the screen, then frowned as a message popped up on the screen. "Where's Coulson?" he asked.

"He and May went to see somebody, but they should be back soon," Fitz replied around a mouthful of food. He set an open beer and an open carton of food for Ward next to the computer, then leaned over to look at the blinking message on the laptop, chopsticks still in hand.

Ward pulled down cordless receiver from the bus phone and dialed. After a few minutes, Coulson's voice came on. "Go."

Ward held his phone up to his ear, even as Jemma approached from behind. "Sir, we've got an 084."

There was a pause. "Is that confirmed?"

Ward glanced at Fitz. "They want us to go in and confirm it." He made a face as Fitz clapped him on the back.

"We were headed into the Hunan province of China," Fitz continued. "Took us a good fifteen hours from where we were in the United States." He nodded thanks as Amador handed him a bottle of water.

"Melinda May flew?" the woman asked, seating herself on the coffeetable between the two men.

"Yeah. But Ward knew how to fly, too, I mean," Fitz replied. "Part of specialist training. But May generally did all the flying. Ward, I believe, thought it was his task to make sure we didn't get into trouble."

Fitz grew quiet. When he finally spoke again, his voice was far away, wistful - fond. "Ward was so grouchy when we first met," he chuckled. "Jemma and I just couldn't believe it - how he'd sit around and just stare at us. It was a little weird. But pretty quickly - " he shrugged. "He warmed to Jemma first, but that's understandable. We became friends later. Had a lot of laughs."

He was silent a moment, then snorted. "And Ward was so right about the Internet."

May was speaking Cantonese to a Chinese man on a screen. They both laughed at something, and then the veteran agent turned to the others. "Kwan, these are Agents Coulson, Ward, Fitz, and Simmons. Everybody, this is Kwan Chen. He's head of our major base in Hong Kong."

Coulson nodded towards the man on the screen. "An 084, you said. Anything else you can tell us?"

"Very little, I am sorry to say. An 084 - unknown origins."

"We've handled 084s before," Coulson replied.

"Perhaps not so much like this one. I received a report about devastation in a village near Chenzhou in Hunan. I came to see it." He carefully turned away, and the camera picked up the village behind it.

It looked like a war zone - homes torched, bodies everywhere.

Jemma gasped sharply, even as the others visibly stiffened.

"The entire village is gone," Kwan replied, coming back on screen. "Burned. Tortured."

"By the 084?" Ward asked.

"Not that we have seen." Kwan pointed towards a large SHIELD truck. The camera man walked with him, and they went to the back to find a baby, wiggling impatiently in a basket lined with a blanket.

"Oh, look at the poor dear," Jemma whispered.

"That's the 084?" May asked suspiciously.

"I've never seen a human 084," Fitz muttered.

"The child does not appear to be a villager's," Kwan replied. "We're still checking records, however." He paused. "We found the baby hidden in a hamper in one of the houses on the far rice paddy. It seems the village died trying to protect her."

"Does the child display powers which should be on the index?"

"Not that we've seen, yet," Kwan replied. "We'd like you to come out here to confirm it. Take the child someplace safer while we work this scene." He paused. "Make sure that the child is treated properly in case she does exhibit powers."

"Will do." Coulson looked at May.

"ETA seven hours," May replied. "We'll have to helicopter in."

Fitz shook his head. "We thought it would be a simple thing. It was silly." He shook his head now as he remembered their naïveté. "The death of the village should have been our warning."

"EVERYBODY in the village died?" Amador asked for confirmation.

Fitz nodded. "Kwan didn't find a single survivor besides the hidden 084. Neither did we. And then, it was Kwan's people." He sighed. "There was five of us just running the back end, until we lost communication with the first team. We went searching."

"Lost communication," Garrett repeated, cutting in. "They left?"

"They answered our call after we got in the air. We gave them an ETA. We called twice more en route. But when we landed, we made another call - nothing."

"Did the Hong Kong base realize they had lost contact?" Amador frowned.

Fitz shook his head. "Not until we tried to call. We offered to go take a look. They promised to be ready in case we needed back up."

He paused for a moment, trying to remember. "Took us three hours to find the truck - completely crushed, with one of the agents inside, crushed as well. Found the rest of Kwan's team, dead - tortured, burned, heads bashed in. Took another hour to find Kwan himself."

"Kwan died," Garrett replied. "That's what the report said."

"He managed to escape with a gunshot wound to the neck, but he bled out. He was still holding on to the 084." Fitz shook his head.

"We got a pulse for Kwan?" Coulson said tensely, pacing a few feet away. The shadow of the bridge shaded them from the sun.

Simmons was kneeling by the body. She quickly lifted a latex-gloved hand to the agent's neck and checked. She shook her head when she found no pulse. "And by the state his body is in, he died just a few hours ago."

"Not long after we got off the last video conference call with him," Ward replied grimly without looking down. He was gripping his gun, scanning the horizon in all directions "I'll bet the baby's dead, too."

Fitz gently unfolded Kwan's arms from around the child, and he and Coulson carefully rolled the agent's body flat onto the ground. The infant was covered in blood and not moving.

Simmons sighed in disappointment, then gently reached down to pick up the child. There was movement, and then the baby opened its eyes. "Well, hello, sweetheart," she said, her voice full of desperate tears and laughter. "Did you have a good nap?"

The baby gurgled and reached a bloodied hand up to Simmons' face.

Simmons handed the child to Ward, who held it as she did her examination. Fitz and Coulson carefully bundled Kwan's body for transport back to their plane.

"I don't even know if we have all the space for the body," Fitz murmured as they rolled the body cart into the back of the helicopter.

"We can take care of Kwan," Coulson replied. "May will make sure the bodies of the rest of the team make it to Hong Kong."

Fitz nodded as he shut and locked the bay doors. "How's the 084?" he replied, coming over to where the other two were gathered.

"She's right as rain," Jemma replied, tickling the baby's cheek and smiling at her. She got a bright-eyed smiled in response. "This appears to be Kwan's blood. But she is uninjured."

Ward gestured to the helicopter. "Let's get out of here." His voice was tense.

Coulson climbed up into the front of the helicopter as Fitz stowed their materials into all available spaces, their normal cargo area taken up by the body. Ward held the child and handed Simmons up, waiting as she stashed her medical kit between two seats. Once she was settled and buckled in, he handed the child to her. Fitz climbed in after, and Ward shut the doors.

Coulson had started up the helicopter, and then Ward jumped into the pilot's main seat and put on his headset.

+ seeds +

Ward carefully set the helicopter down in the private plane bay of Changsha Huanghua airport. May was standing on the tarmac, waiting tensely by their own black SHIELD plane.

"Well?" Coulson looked at her.

May nodded towards the large parking lot area, where stacks of bodies were being unloaded from a truck onto the bus. "We're going to detour to Hong Kong. Have our people at the facility there do autopsies, try to figure out what happened." Her voice was short, clipped, tense. "Did you find Kwan?"

"Dead," Coulson replied. May's face froze. "Bled out. He was still carrying the 084."

"And the girl?"

"Alive." Coulson pointed to where Simmons was handing the child out to Ward, then helping Fitz remove their equipment. "Covered in blood. Simmons wants to take some swabs, and then they're going to wash the baby off."

Both agents watched as the younger agents trudged up the ramp, hauling their equipment and the child. She then watched as more SHIELD technicians came by and removed Kwan's body from the helicopter. Coulson turned to head up the stairs. "Phil," May said quietly, laying a hand on his wrist. He stopped to look at her. "I got a bad feeling about this."

He gave her a grimly sympathetic look. "I know."

"The minute we got those bodies on board, May had us in the air." Fitz rubbed his eyes. "She was pretty tense."

"What happened with the village?"

"When we radioed Hong Kong to tell them what we'd found, they immediately sent another team to help. They gathered the bodies and the evidence, then opted to stay behind to try to finish what Kwan's team had started."

"Everything was loaded on our bus, and we detoured to Hong Kong. Their technicians immediately went to work, examining what evidence we'd been able to bring back. They then sent agents to scour the village to try to figure out what went wrong."

"How long did it take for you to get out of China?" Garrett asked.

"We stayed overnight. Plane needed refueling," Fitz replied, sighing. "It was warm in Hong Kong, although it was right around Asian New Year. Our last night of - " he shrugged, not finishing the sentence.

Fitz hauled the cooler down the ramp, setting it on the edge as Simmons followed, carrying the now-clean child. "Look at that!" she whispered to the baby, pointing in the dark night sky, where the first fireworks were exploding. "See that? Isn't that pretty?"

May trotted down the ramp past Ward and Coulson, seating herself next to Simmons, who had the baby carefully settled on her lap, propped up carefully against her own torso. Fitz reached in, handing May a beer, then handed one to Jemma before taking one for himself.

The baby waved her hands, chattering away to herself. "You're going to be a talker, aren't you?" Jemma teased. The baby beamed.

Coulson came down the stairs, pausing to stop to stand by Ward, who was leaning against their car, an unconscious smile on his lips as he watched the others. "You get the kid cleaned off?"

Ward nodded. "Took some fight. A lot of the blood was dried on, and we didn't want to hurt the child by scrubbing. Jemma had to find some softer cleanser."

"Any disasters?"

"Besides having to cut some of the kid's hair, no. There was a clump of grass in the kid's hair, and the blood had dried around the grass and the hair."

Coulson pointed at a fresh cut on Ward's arm. "And this?"

Ward rolled his eyes. "That's from the hair cutting. Kid started screaming when I came by with the scissors. Wiggled so hard I dropped the scissors and cut myself. Of course, the minute Simmons picked her up she stopped crying."

There was a large firework set off, bursting into a beautiful bright red before changing color into a golden yellow and then leaving a little trail of sparkles before disappearing. The baby wiggled in delight, making some noises and slapping both hands down on her legs. Simmons picked up both of her hands in her own and clapped them together, and the baby giggled.

Ward smiled unconsciously.

"Simmons's good with children," Coulson observed. "For somebody who's perhaps not the most adept socially."

"Yeah."

"It's a different life, that one," the older man said quietly. "Not impossible."

Ward looked at him. "But?"

Coulson shrugged. "When I took this job, I made a choice, the same choice everyone else here made: this life over the other one, the one with holiday dinners and PTA meetings, recitals."

Ward was quiet. "Do you regret it?"

There was a long pause. "That's a hard word, 'regret'," Coulson replied thoughtfully. "I don't know. But I certainly do miss parts of it. I'm just not sure a wife would put up with the hours and lifestyle."

Ward paused, then asked slowly, "Maybe if she'd been part of the agency ... ?"

Coulson chuckled. "In my experience, that's just asking for trouble." He paused, then smiled a little. "Might be different if you're not in the same fields, though."

Ward looked sharply at him, and the older man just chuckled before stepping away to join the others.

"May was pretty concerned. She locked the cargo hold that night - locked down the plane. Turns out she didn't sleep much, either - stayed awake to make sure nobody - or nothing - got onto the plane."

"Did anything happen to make her concerned?" Amador asked.

"Nothing more than had already happened, if that's what you mean," Fitz replied. "Nothing besides that first team - Kwan Chen's - getting wiped out within a few hours of talking to us."

"When did you guys leave Hong Kong?" Garrett frowned.

"May couldn't get out of there fast enough. Roused us at 5, told us she had already filed a flight plan and been cleared, and that we were taking off in half an hour."

Amador and Garrett exchanged looks.

"She relaxed once we were in the air," Fitz replied, "but not much."

"I don't believe you actually want to taste that, sweetheart," Jemma said, pushing Ward's cup of coffee out of the reach of the baby sitting in her lap. "It doesn't taste very good." She picked up the toy terrycloth monkey nearby and placed it back in the 084's hands. The baby gurgled impatiently.

"Ba," the tot disagreed.

"Better than tea," Ward mumbled, still half-asleep.

"I doubt that!" Jemma scoffed.

Ward peered at the infant, who had her nose screwed up and was still staring intently at his bright blue coffee mug. "You want some, kid?"

"Oh," Jemma huffed, then carefully dipped a spoon into Ward's black, no-cream-or-sugar coffee. She blew on it lightly, cooling it for a minute before lowering to the baby's lips. "Just a taste."

The baby eagerly reached forward for the spoon, then immediately made a face upon tasting it, wincing and blinking and sticking her tongue in and out and shoving one of the stuffed monkey's ears into her mouth. Simmons gave Ward a 'told you so' look.

Ward snorted, then took the spoon from her hand and dipped it into her mug of tea. He did the same, blowing on the liquid and waiting for it to cool, then gently brought the spoon to the baby's mouth.

The little girl beamed eagerly and reached forward, her mouth already open. She didn't like the taste of tea, either. Apparently, again, the terrycloth monkey tasted better.

Ward returned a smug look to Simmons, who wrinkled her nose. The latter gently propped the 084 carefully in her arms, cuddling her, and then gave her her bottle. The baby reached up instantly, holding it and guzzling greedily.

"Briefing, now," May replied shortly as she came from the cockpit, passing them on her way to Coulson's office.

The two agents looked at each other and followed her into the briefing room, where Fitz was already waiting.

"Wait, is that my monkey?!" Fitz protested, seeing the toy in the child's arms. "How'd you get my monkey? He was right by my TARDIS!" He paused, then pointed an accusatory finger, asking in barely concealed horror, "Did you touch my TARDIS?"

"Oh, Fitz!" Simmons sighed.

"Nobody touched your TARDIS," Ward groaned. "Nobody wants your TARDIS. Americans have no interest in a dude who travels in a blue phone box and changed his face fifteen times."

"Six! Six!" Fitz exclaimed even as Simmons looked at Ward, horrified. "We're only on the Seventh Doctor. And the BBC JUST cancelled the show. You never know whether it'll come back - or where. And Americans like 'Doctor Who'," he huffed, then amended, "Americans could like it. Audrey gave me that TARDIS, and she's American."

Ward rolled his eyes. "Fitz, nobody watches British shows on PBS. We're not interested in your weird costume dramas and your detectives and your superheroes in phone booths. We have our own."

"It's a POLICE BOX!" Simmons looked aghast. "And the Doctor is so much better than Superman."

Ward gave them a look. "He wears question marks on his vest."

"There is that," Simmons acknowledged.

"My monkey," Fitz retorted, pointing at his toy. Drool dripped off its ear. The baby poked at it with the nipple of her bottle.

"You left the monkey on that bookshelf," Simmons retorted. "She saw it and wanted it. And my Paddington bear is too large for her to handle, yet."

"Trust me," Ward snorted, coming around the table. "You don't want it back."

As if to punctuate the point, the 084 shoved one of the monkey's ears into her mouth and gnawed happily.

"Ugh," Fitz groaned. "Audrey gave me that!"

"You should have kept it in your room!" Simmons protested.

"You ever wonder why Audrey gave you that thing?" Ward asked.

"Because I like monkeys," Fitz replied flatly.

"Fitz, it's a BABY's toy. It's terrycloth, with no small parts a child can swallow," Ward replied. "She keeps hinting that she's got a stable job and you could have a stable engineering job in Portland. Did it ever occur to you this monkey gift is her trying to send you a hint? You have been dating over a year and a half now."

Fitz thought a moment. "If this is another one of your attempts to make fun of my baby face - "

Ward heaved a sigh. "I don't believe that's the hint," he muttered. "Never mind."

"How's our passenger this morning?" Coulson asked, changing the subject as he came in, May trailing closely behind.

"Slept well enough and seems to be eating just fine," Ward replied. "Simmons estimates she's about five months old."

"Kind of an odd age to leave a baby," Fitz mused. "Most babies are newborns when they're left behind."

"Let's worry about getting to the Hub first," May cut in. "I've filed a flight plan, but I don't intend to stick to it."

At that, the four other agents sobered.

"Once we get closer to the north, I'm going to swing through the Arctic. I'll change the plan as I go, radio the Hub step by step."

"Do you believe we're being threatened?" Ward asked doubtfully.

"That village showed signs of being attacked either by a very large force of individuals with very little regard for the Geneva Convention or by an individual who should be on our index," May replied shortly. "Do you want to risk running into either with this child on board?"

"Is the 084 a magnet? Drawing whoever - whatever - towards us?" Fitz frowned.

"There was no energy or anything coming off of her," Simmons disagreed.

"The sooner we get this child to the Hub, the better," May replied.

"Did the 084 have super powers?" Amador frowned.

Fitz shook his head. "If she had powers or something, we never witnessed it."

"Her parents have them, perhaps," Garrett mused.

"Her absentee parents who abandoned her?" Fitz said derisively, obvious disdain for the parents. "Quite possibly. We never saw them."

"What happened then?"

"May got us within a day's drive of the Hub," Fitz replied. "Suddenly we had a gas line leak." He shook his head. "Spooked us all."

"Cut?"

"Seemed like normal wear and tear when I repaired it," Fitz replied. "The timing was just - "

" - eerie," Amador finished.

Fitz nodded. "Very much so."

"And then?"

Fitz shook his head. "After we landed, we started getting crossed off."

"Where have you been?!" Fitz shouted as he stood at the stairs overlooking the cargo bay, whose doors were just lowering. Ward and Simmons walked on, each carrying several grocery bags. "You've been gone for HOURS!"

"Oh, Fitz," Simmons sighed. "We were gone for only two hours!"

"Ma!" the baby hollered in protest.

"See," Fitz replied, pointing at the child. "She agrees with me."

"Oh, Fitz, she's not saying anything," Jemma huffed. "She's too young to identify names or people. She's just blabbing noises."

"Ma!" the baby growled impatiently as Fitz handed her off to his partner. The child wrapped a chubby fist around one of Jemma's curls and pulled it towards her small mouth.

"We need food and all the baby stuff," Ward replied as he started to lug everything up the cargo bay floor. "More diapers, more formula, baby carrier, everything. You should be happy we made it back in two hours."

"Walmart was five minutes away." Fitz glared. "And she's hungry."

Jemma sighed, then moved to a clean part of the lab with the child. Ward pulled the newly-bought formula out and started to mix up some. Fitz started restocking the cabinets with the new items.

Coulson appeared then. "Good, you're back. Did May gas the car before you came back?"

Ward and Simmons looked at each other. "What car, sir?" the former asked slowly, his voice tight.

"The car," Coulson replied. "May took you in the car, didn't she?"

"We walked to Walmart," Simmons replied, her voice tensing up. "It was close enough to walk, and the weather was nice."

"May took the car, but she didn't take us in it," Ward replied. "We haven't seen her."

Coulson turned his head slightly, looking at them sidelong. His jaw was tense. He picked up the phone and started dialing.

+ seeds +

Four hours later, a large truck pulled up, followed by a tow truck. On the back of the tow truck was the SHIELD car - crushed.

"Oh, no," Fitz breathed.

The doors to the back of the first truck opened, and out stepped a detective in plainclothes. He was followed by the medical examiner, who rolled a body out on wheels.

Ward closed his eyes briefly.

"I'm very sorry," the detective said quietly. "We - had we known you were looking for an Asian woman of her description, we would have been able to return the body to you sooner."

Coulson stepped over to the stretcher and unzipped the body bag. He looked at the face for a long time, his face frozen. After a long moment - longer than would be comfortable, the man zipped up the bag again. He breathed in, trying to compose himself. Then: "Yes, it's her."