Thank you all so much for your support! If you haven't seen last night's episode yet, I feel sorry for you. Go watch it ASAP ;)

Mother

Co-opting Agent Triplett for this mission had been easy enough. No sooner had she walked up to him and asked, "How would you like to help me fly to southern California?" than he had done pre-flight checks on the Quinjet and prepped it to go. Even after she'd told him they were going to pick up her daughter, all he'd done was dig up some mini apple sauce containers and goldfish from the pantry.

"No kid'll say no to apple sauce and goldfish," he explained with a wink.

So now she was here, halfway across America on a Quinjet stocked with supposed children's foods and sitting in the passenger side of the cockpit as Trip flew. He didn't say anything, which she was glad of—there were all too many thoughts whirling around her head to be able to cope with another set of ideas or questions. That was one of the things she liked about Agent Triplett from the beginning—he was friendly but didn't ask too many questions. Loyal and easy-going, but not nosy. He looked at you and made his judgments, regardless of your file or the rumors. It was a refreshing difference from most S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents, who took a more "holistic" approach to getting to know you. Like his World War II-era Howling Commando gadgets, Trip was old school.

Bobbi's foot drummed impatiently against the front wall of the Quinjet. Every couple minutes the reason she was here washed over her again, setting her heart pounding. She had the three ultrasound print-outs tucked in her wallet, as well as the few photos Mack had taken of them together before Bobbi gave her up. When she'd requested them, the adoptive parents had sent her pictures as well over the years-a scant total of two-but they were carefully placed in there too. The later of the two had been taken on Isabelle's third birthday, and it was the most recent Bobbi had of her: a golden-haired toddler bedecked in a red poufy dress standing in front of a decorated Christmas tree. It was a fantasy Bobbi had never allowed herself before, but if she concentrated hard enough she could pretend that the bits of cream-colored wall visible through the branches were the cream-colored wall of the little house on the beach she and Hunter had owned. That the Christmas tree was theirs, lovingly decorated for the season, that the dress was one Bobbi herself had helped Isabelle pick out. That the person holding the camera that Isabelle was currently staring at with adoration was her.

Previously, that kind of thinking hadn't been allowed. It hadn't been fair for the adoptive parents. It hadn't been fair to Isabelle. And it hadn't been healthy for Bobbi. But now... Now everything was different.

She was about to meet her daughter.

Bobbi checked her phone and leaned forward in the cockpit to gaze at the ground in front of them. "That's Colorado down below," Triplett supplied helpfully with a sideways glance at her. It was all cloud cover, but Bobbi nodded, settling back in her seat again. Two hours to go.

She was about to meet her daughter.

Unable to sit still any longer, Bobbi unstrapped her seat belt and headed for the rear of the plane. She began to pace. It was against regulation, she knew—walking around for no reason while in the air—but she couldn't bring herself to care. She stopped suddenly and pulled out the pictures, flipping through them. Then she stuffed them back in her wallet and continued pacing.

She was about to meet her daughter.

"Passing over Yosemite now," Trip said about an hour and a half later. "We're close. You wanna call Chaev and let her know we'll be arriving soon?"

"On it," Bobbi said, returning to the cockpit and fitting the giant headphones over her ears. Though she'd been anxious to get to their destination, now that it was looming right in front of her she wished there were a few more hours to this flight to prepare. She wasn't ready for this. Not even close.

"This is Morse in S.H.I.E.L.D. 218," Bobbi said, holding down the microphone button.

"Received transmission, S.H.I.E.L.D. 218," the woman on the other side said. "Secure line established, over."

"We'll be touching down at the Fishtank in about ten minutes, over," Bobbi advised.

"Confirmed, Agent Morse. See you soon."

Bobbi took off the headphones and situated them on the dash. "All set," she informed Triplett.

"Good, because we hit a tailwind and will be arriving sooner than I thought," Trip told her. He tilted the controls forward and flipped the rightmost switches, starting their descent. "Landings like these near a large metropolitan area I always wonder whether the cloaking system is actually working, 'cause you can't tell from in here."

"I'm sure it is," Bobbi said, glancing at the ceiling. "Mack and Fitz keep this thing in pretty good repair. Especially since the only two things they're allowed to work on are this and the Bus, since Coulson still won't let him touch Lola."

The Quinjet's landing extensions rumbled as they hit the ground, but a few seconds later the plane came to a full and complete stop and Triplett took off his headset. At the touch of a button the ramp out the back opened and sunlight filtered in. Trip nodded to her. "I'll be here. Go get her." He gave Bobbi a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," she said, picking up her briefcase and walking outside. Agent Chaev, the young woman in charge of the Fishtank—Coulson's satellite base for the west coast—was waiting for her just beyond the ramp.

"Hey, Bobbi," she greeted her. "Good to see you. Coulson didn't specify in his orders exactly what this was about, but can we offer you any backup, support, evac?"

"Not an op, Aleksandra," Bobbi replied. "Personal."

Chaev nodded. "Fair enough. I'll have Avery refuel the Quinjet while you're gone, and I'll make sure no one is out here when you get back, as you requested. The taxi's waiting out front." She led her through the small facility out onto the main road and to the yellow cab parked next to the sidewalk. "Good luck with whatever it is, Bobbi."

"Thanks," she replied, opening the door and climbing inside the back seat. "The 5100 block of Thirty-Fifth Street."

The cabbie glanced at her through the rear view mirror and smiled. "Yes, ma'am. Agent Jack Walker, by the way."

"So this isn't a real cab."

"Used to be, before we refitted it for our purposes. Large black vans were a little conspicuous in the city, but this blends in just fine. When we did the refurbishing, I wanted to put in disco lights on the ceiling like Cash Cab, but Chaev vetoed that."

"I'll bet she did," Bobbi laughed nervously.

"Right, Thirty-Fifth Street," Walker said, pulling away from the curb. He said nothing more as he navigated the semi-congested city streets before finally pulling up next to her final destination. The time to turn the doorknob of the adoption agency and step inside came all too soon for Bobbi.

The lobby was smaller than she remembered it. The same set of chairs lined one wall and the same closed door lead to the rest of the facility, but she didn't remember it taking so few steps to reach the front desk. "Hi, I'm here for a three o'clock appointment," Bobbi said to the receptionist.

"Name?"

"Barbara Morse."

The secretary consulted her computer. "Ah, you're right here. Delilah will be out in just a moment, if you'd like to take a seat."

Bobbi did so.

"Ms. Morse?" the door opened. The woman Bobbi recognized as Delilah—the woman she had handed her baby over to four years ago—came into the room. She invited Bobbi into the back, and they both took seats in her office. "Well, I'm sure you're anxious to take her home, so let's get started," the woman said. She withdrew an official-looking document from a large packet on her desk and slid it across to Bobbi. "You'll have to sign here, here, and here." After reading it over quickly, Bobbi took the pen and scribbled her name on each of the indicated lines. "And this one." Next she had to fill out information on finances, living arrangements, safety, education plans...more than half of which she had to lie on in order to maintain her cover story. Just when Bobbi thought it would never end, it did.

"Okay, so, that's it for the paperwork," Delilah smiled. "In two weeks the agency will check back in with you, make sure everything's going all right."

"Okay," Bobbi agreed.

"Great. Then, I think we're ready," Delilah's smile widened. "Follow me, I'll take you to her."

The hallway was lined with other offices for a short while before opening up into a more open area. On either side were some bookshelves with volumes ranging from picture books to young adult romance novels, and there were various toys strewn across the floor: Legos, large building blocks, a doll house. Around six or seven children of a range of ages were playing with them, and there was an older girl in the corner engrossed in a book. What looked to be teenage volunteers were entertaining two of the smaller ones with an impromptu puppet show. Bobbi looked around eagerly at each of the kids, but none seemed to have the golden hair present in her photograph.

"Group B is still in their rooms, so she's not here," Delilah explained. "I'll go fetch her and her things, if you'll just wait here." Bobbi nodded, and the woman disappeared behind a large gray door.

A little boy streaked by her feet, a blur of red T-shirt and ratty blue jeans. One of the volunteers chased after him, reminding him that running was an outdoor activity, not an indoor one, and mumbled a hurried apology to Bobbi as she passed. The girl in the corner with the book looked up at the commotion, her mouth a taut line and her eyes much too guarded for her years. Bobbi wondered idly if she was looking at a younger version of Skye.

The door opened suddenly and Bobbi jumped. Another volunteer came out with a one-year-old baby in her arms and Bobbi's acute adrenaline rush subsided, lingering only in the tingling sensation of her fingers. She forced herself to relax again, noticing the girl in the corner giving her a hard, unabashed stare.

The door opened again and this time Delilah appeared on the other side. One hand lugged a small black suitcase and the other was placed gently on the back of a small girl.

Bobbi's heart leapt in her chest.

The girl kept her eyes directed toward the floor. Her shoulder-length golden hair was just a shade lighter than Bobbi's, and it was currently slightly matted such that it looked like no one had run a brush through it in several mornings. She trudged forward in semi-white sneakers—not unwillingly, just unsure—and kept her chin tucked close to her chest. For a moment it felt like Bobbi couldn't breathe. "Isabelle, this is Barbara," Delilah said, releasing the blockage suddenly in Bobbi's airways. "She's going to take you home."

"Hi Isabelle, I'm Bobbi," Bobbi said gently, kneeling in front of her daughter. The girl lifted her chin slightly and at once Bobbi was struck with the impression of her own blue eyes staring back at her.

"Hi," Isabelle said softly. Bobbi offered her her hand and the girl glanced upwards at Delilah. Delilah nodded to her, kindness in her gaze.

Isabelle's small hand slipped into hers.

Please leave a review and tell me what you thought! I would love to hear from all of you!

Guest: Was that meeting satisfactory? You wanted more? Next chapter ;)

Andy: You'll like the next installment then, especially what I have planned for Triplett and Fitz.

Holly: Got a tiny bit of what you wanted in this one - the one after this will be the real kicker though!

Shawn: Well, not even the Cavalry could resist the cuteness of a four-year-old forever... :)