(no subject)

[protect_and_survey]

There's a note left at the Bar - it isn't addressed, but it will appear for any ranking SHIELD operative that comes to order. Inside, Jemma's neat handwriting is made a bit shaky by some severely rattled nerves.


To whomever receives this note:

Please advise, I think I've been compromised. An unknown Caucasian male knew my name and that I am an agent, even though I did not give him either piece of information. I'm not sure if it is safe for me to go home.

I wa

I'm sc

Help.

Jemma Simmons, Sci-ops

Comments

[holds_her_own]

Hill was having such a nice day, too.

She approaches the Bar with less than her typical watchfulness, expecting a Jinx Proof Three Floyds when she gets the note instead.

This is not her happy face.

"Is the woman who left this note still here?"

The Bar presents her with directions to where Simmons has holed herself up, and minutes later the bio-chemist is being handed a glass of water.

"Simmons."

[protect_and_survey]

"Ohthankgod." She says all in a rush, clearly having had plenty of time to work herself up into a fine state of utterly freaked out. She deeply, deeply just wants to go home now, if that's okay with everyone.

But she wouldn't bring danger home to Fitz for anything. It's the only thing that's kept her here.

[holds_her_own]

Hill holds up a hand.

"Calm down, drink some water, and sit."

She doesn't think she's seen Simmons since her recruitment, but she remembers her file clearly.

"Explain what happened."

[protect_and_survey]

She obeys (she's very good at obeying the rules, it's something she hasn't had problem with, she likes rules), taking a few shaking sips of water before setting the glass down (rattling against the wood as she does).

"I don't know how it happened, I haven't told anyone who isn't SHIELD anything - I mean, there was Agent Romanoff, and Agent Barton, but... they're known field agents, they're one of us!" Okay, that's less explanation and more flail, but at least it's intelligible English?

[holds_her_own]

It's a step in the right direction anyway.

"Let me first assure you that you aren't in any kind of trouble here, and we're going to do our best to get you home."

She leans back, keeping her posture open and friendly.

"Romanoff and Barton aren't a concern. Tell me about this man you encountered. Did you get his name?"

[protect_and_survey]

She nods, trying to remember (any of) her crisis training, folding her hands together to keep them from visibly shaking.

"N..no. We didn't trade names - I'd just gotten a letter from Director Fury clarifying what information can be shared with coworkers not here," The short answer being: none, which is entirely depressing. "And he asked if I was okay - I was a bit disappointed."

And a bit unnerved, because meeting with Fury? Well, actually, right at the moment that's not the most horrible idea because no one messes with Director Fury, and while he scares the living hell out of her, he has a reputation of protecting his own.

[holds_her_own]

It's a mentality his closest agents share.

"Did he threaten you in any way?"

Her voice is measured.

Simmons would not want to hear it otherwise.

[protect_and_survey]

"Not overtly? But. I never said anything about even working for a non-university laboratory - I said I was from Greenwich, running research on a proteolytic enzyme, which is technically true, but about as vague as I could get without lying because I'm terrible at coming up with stories like that on the fly and I thought I did pretty good actually but... but it was weird. The whole conversation was terribly odd, he said he was a geneticist, but he... seemed offended by scientific method? And when he left, he said... um." She blinks up at the ceiling, not to avoid eye contact, but to try and remember the exact words.

"Good luck adjusting to Milliways, Agent Simmons."

[holds_her_own]

Her eyes narrow.

"He used that tone exactly?"

It's not exactly a threat, but tone means everything.

Maria rests her forearms on the table and laces her fingers together.

"How long have you been coming here?"

[protect_and_survey]

"Pretty close? He seemed... annoyed about something. And that he was somehow... scoring a point, with that? I never told him my name, I'm sure of that. This is just the third time I've been here - I can count the number of people I've met on one hand, practically." Her expression is pleading - she was trying so very hard to toe the line on this one, to do it right, prove she could be outside the tightly-controlled world of sci-ops without screwing something up.

[holds_her_own]

Right now Simmons has nothing to worry about. As far as Hill's concerned, someone is deliberately screwing with her agents.

That's about to stop.

"In case you haven't been made aware of this yet, Milliways caters to a number of patrons who have traits and abilities beyond what we've cataloged on Earth," she begins. "The door can open on various worlds, including alternate realities and times. If we're dealing with someone who can divine information, it's possible you haven't done anything wrong and this is no more than an annoying parlor trick."

An unspoken "but..." lingers between them.

[protect_and_survey]

"Well yes, I did manage to run into Elrond Halfelven," Which was utterly surreal and utterly cool and dear lord the things she'd do to get that elf into a physio lab. There, for a moment, is the biochemist who is convinced the universe is packed full of awesome just waiting to be found.

That unspoken 'but' is still there, though, and the crash back down to Earth is hard.

"... I can't go home until this is cleared up, can I?" It's a bit woebegone, a bit lonely, a lot scared.

[hasthehighground]

Clint gets the note with his coffee, brow furrowing. He glances around the room.

Seeing Hill with the young scientist is a relief. Still, Clint might have intel that's useful to them -- though he doesn't want to implicate Charles Xavier or bring X-23 into this without more information.

He walks over, casually, and leans against the side of the booth Simmons is on, hands wrapped around his mug of coffee. He'd rather be facing Hill (who he gives a faint nod to) than freaking out Simmons even more.

Clint raises his eyebrows at Hill. Is he needed, or should he get lost until later?

[hisonegoodeye]

Coulson sees Hill, very briefly, before he sees the source of the note. (It's long enough.)

"Agent Simmons."

It's not quite so impersonal as the words make it sound.

[protect_and_survey]

It isn't, and even if it was - he's one of the good guys, and one of the good guys who has a reputation for being good at their jobs. This is something Jemma is putting a lot of stock in, at the moment.

"Sir." She's still horribly keyed up, even with her nice soothing stack of journals to read. She has plans for holing up in one of the rooms upstairs and not coming back down until someone from SHIELD fetches her.

[hisonegoodeye]

"I hear you've spoken to Hill," he says.

Beat.

"Did she get you a drink?"

[protect_and_survey]

"Water, I think it's supposed to be... soothing. Or... yes, something like that." Her babble is on a bit of a hair-trigger. "Or maybe because it was bottled? Are we not supposed to trust the water source here? No one ever said it might be suspect, if anything was going to be suspect it should be the food coming from the Bar because I still haven't figured out how that works, of course Fitz would have better luck but he hasn't come here yet and the Director wrote that I shouldn't tell him and..."

[hisonegoodeye]

"Simmons."

It means stop and it's okay and settle, all in that very quiet calm tone.

"Would you like a drink?"

[protect_and_survey]

She sucks in air and straightens, nodding.

"Yes, I rather think so." 'Getting smashed' had been on her list of things to do while hiding, but at no point has she felt safe enough to do so. Still doesn't, really, but it's going to be a while before she feels safe here again.

[hisonegoodeye]

An alcoholic drink wasn't quite what he had intended, but he's not going to object; might settle her nerves. More than one, though, is not happening while he's around - not least because he'd bet good money that she hasn't been eating properly, and none of the nerds (except Sanderson) can handle their drink at the best of times.

So, he flags down a waitrat.

"What can I get you?"

[protect_and_survey]

There's a moment (a brief moment, it should be longer but she's still rattled) of distraction while she ponders a rat-nabbing - she's fairly sure getting one of those into the lab would result in all kinds of interesting findings.

But the job of analyzing rats can probably be done better with one of the DWARF 'bots, and then there's less risk of getting herself into more trouble.

"Just a bottle of Newcastle would be fine."

[hisonegoodeye]

He raises an eyebrow, which should hopefully be sufficiently indicative of how much Hill would not approve of waitrat-napping. Even if it is for SCIENCE.

"And a coffee," he adds. "White, no sugar."

He's back on duty when he goes back through his door.

[protect_and_survey]

"You know sir, I never have this much trouble with pubs back on Earth." Now there's a sentence she never thought she'd say, but honestly, this place is trying.

[hisonegoodeye]

His lips quirk at the corners, like he might smile.

"You've clearly not been on stake-out duty enough," he remarks.

"It's probably for the best if that state of affairs continues."

[protect_and_survey]

"Yes sir." She emphatically agrees - while she occasionally day-dreams about being a field agent, she knows she's infinitely better suited towards being in a lab.

Okay, more than occasionally.

Something like Costa Rica would be really cool.

She could even get Fitz a monkey.

"I'll settle for not talking to anyone else about magic. It doesn't seem to go well."