I'm on my lunch break in the empty examination room when Dr. Jones enters.
"Hey Elise." She smiles at me, and I study her face, expecting her to pipe up about her bet with Rumlow any time now. She doesn't say anything else, so I return my gaze to the training facility beyond the glass window.
"Hi Dr. Jones."
"What are you up to?" She crosses the room and stands beside me, leaning against the examination table.
"Just watching him train. He's really something else with that arm." I gesture to the subject. He's lifting weights, alone, his attention focused on his task.
"You're really getting attached to him, huh?" Dr. Jones jokes, punching me softly on the arm.
"I just feel bad for him. He goes through a lot of unpleasant things here." I shrug, not wanting to say too much. If there's anything I've learned from speaking about the subject in the past few days, it's that you really shouldn't speak about the subject.
"We all do. It's a necessary part of his job." She smiles faintly, gazing into the training facility with a distant look in her eyes.
It's silent for a while, and then the sound of footsteps prompts us both to look back at the door as Rumlow and Jack Rollins enter the room from the hall.
I don't know why I expected some kind of special acknowledgement, but Rumlow's simple wave and polite smile feel odd. He's exceedingly talented at pretending there's nothing between us. Guess that's to be expected from a man so dedicated to his work. The two men continue through to the facility without a word.
When they're gone, Dr. Jones nudges me.
"You should really focus your attention on one of those two, you know. Forget Michael and the subject. If not Rumlow, at least give Rollins a chance. Though, I think as a matter of temperament, you and Brock are the better match."
I don't know why she's still trying to play cupid for me.
"Nice try, Dr. Jones, but I already know about your little bet." I frown. Instead of looking like a criminal caught red-handed, she looks pleasantly surprised.
"Oh, you caught me! How did you find out?" She grins sheepishly.
Wait, what? Brock hasn't told her that he won their bet? Maybe that's why he didn't say anything to us when he came in… trying to atone for making me mad yesterday.
"Are you two going out?" Dr. Jones eventually reaches the logical conclusion and her face lights up. Although her voice is lowered, I can't help glancing reflexively towards the door to make sure no one overheard her. She seems to accept this silent pause as confirmation and grabs me by the arms, a wide smile on her face.
"This is great news! I'm so happy for you. You're in good hands now." Relief quickly flashes through her eyes and I stare at her in confusion.
"What are you talking about? And really, Dr. Jones, I told you I didn't need you to play matchmaker for me."
She just looks at me for a minute, then grabs my hand and pulls me into the supply storage room, closing the door behind us. It's tiny and narrow, the walls lined on either side with metal shelves crammed with all manner of boxes and plastic bottles marked with hazard symbols. I'm glad I'm not claustrophobic.
Before I have a chance to question why we're in here, Dr. Jones raises her hand to silence me.
"Listen, Elise. Michael's been attracting the wrong kind of attention. He's always been a little odd, but when you joined, it became more noticeable. He's been asking questions, voicing dissent, and some people around here feel that he's not exactly a good fit for this work environment."
Her expression is sober, and as she holds my gaze with her piercing blue eyes, I wonder who those "some people" are.
"People don't last long on this team when they stick out like a sore thumb." Her expression softens, "I know you're a good girl, Elise. You're just curious sometimes, still holding on to your dreams and aspirations from Academia. I don't want you on anyone's radar."
Well, that makes zero sense. Hooking up with a high level STRIKE agent puts me 100% on the radar, doesn't it?
"I had a feeling you'd fit well in this team over time. And you and Rumlow are mutually attracted, right?" She continues, a knowing smile on her lips.
"You thought that dating Brock would guarantee my safety?" I raise an eyebrow at her unusual scheme.
"Not at all." She looks at me as if I'd just said something stupid, "We're all dedicated to our cause here. No exceptions. Alexander Pierce wouldn't hesitate to issue a kill order for you—for any of us, if we step out of line. Neither would Rumlow."
Realizing she may have unintentionally intimidated me with that declaration, she quickly backtracks.
"Look, nobody's getting killed. We're just talking about remaining a valuable member of the team and having less people question your purpose for being here. I thought dating Rumlow would help you assimilate to the environment more easily and quickly than Michael has. He hasn't had such a smooth transition." She momentary averts her gaze from my face.
Geez, does everyone have ulterior motives here?
"And besides, I thought you and Brock would make an adorable couple. And looks like I was right, seeing as he won our bet in such record time." There's a sly smile on her face as she turns to open the storage room door.
I'm about to reprimand her for whatever conclusions she's just drawn about my date with Rumlow, when Michael's voice calls out from the examination room.
"Dr. Jones? Where's Elise? Her break's over."
"She's in here. I asked her to help me count inventory." She calls back, ushering me out.
Just before I slip past her, she places a hand on my shoulder.
"Remember what I said." Her eyes flicker surreptitiously in Michael's direction.
"Yeah." I reply, hearing the uncertainty in my voice as I step out.
I don't know. I don't know who to trust any more.