✈ open post 2kforever
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( it's late afternoon. rush hour won't come for a few hours yet, but the wheels of two-ton semi-trucks scream down the street all the same. they move on auto-pilot, the drivers behind the steerage idle and uninterested as the crisp voices of gps navigations instruct on turns and lane changes. as the nearest one comes a hair too close, daisy ducks; a carefully executed barrel roll spares her life at the last second. she probably shouldn't have been trying to jaywalk across the expressway... but hey, as the crow flies, right?
when she rights herself, there's an audience. a girl with a jawline that could probably cut a bitch stops short on the sidewalk, flanked by another whose high ponytail and strong shoulders remind her of bobbi and a sole man who looks more like the white bread equivalent of the incredible hulk mid-transition than anyone who ought to be out on the streets right now. they're staring, though, and daisy can't help but feel a bit sheepish, a hand coming up to brush through the hair at the nape of her neck as her weight shifts from side to side. )
Uh. ( so eloquent. someone give the girl an oscar. ) What's up?
( she'd stay and chat, she would, but the incessant beeping in her ear that signals incoming chatter reminds daisy that she really, really needs to get a move on. there's an energy signature six blocks west that requires investigation, and her standard-issue boots happen to be the closest ones. stopping to play twenty questions probably isn't a good alternative. )
Actually, rain check. Tomorrow, same time, same place?
when she rights herself, there's an audience. a girl with a jawline that could probably cut a bitch stops short on the sidewalk, flanked by another whose high ponytail and strong shoulders remind her of bobbi and a sole man who looks more like the white bread equivalent of the incredible hulk mid-transition than anyone who ought to be out on the streets right now. they're staring, though, and daisy can't help but feel a bit sheepish, a hand coming up to brush through the hair at the nape of her neck as her weight shifts from side to side. )
Uh. ( so eloquent. someone give the girl an oscar. ) What's up?
( she'd stay and chat, she would, but the incessant beeping in her ear that signals incoming chatter reminds daisy that she really, really needs to get a move on. there's an energy signature six blocks west that requires investigation, and her standard-issue boots happen to be the closest ones. stopping to play twenty questions probably isn't a good alternative. )
Actually, rain check. Tomorrow, same time, same place?
You're Daisy Johnson.
[The words come out of Zari's mouth like some kind of star struck kid and it's enough to get Sara and Mick to turn on her in confusion. Zari doesn't get excited about much all that often but Daisy Johnson hacker, meta and freedom fighter had kind of been Zari's hero as a kid.
Which is probably not something she should say to actual Daisy Johnson. And they had an anachronism to get to.]
So I think we're actually going the same way.
[The words come out of Zari's mouth like some kind of star struck kid and it's enough to get Sara and Mick to turn on her in confusion. Zari doesn't get excited about much all that often but Daisy Johnson hacker, meta and freedom fighter had kind of been Zari's hero as a kid.
Which is probably not something she should say to actual Daisy Johnson. And they had an anachronism to get to.]
So I think we're actually going the same way.
( raleigh used to be the kind of guy that easily picked up women in bars and had a different one hanging on his arm every night; being a jaeger pilot had only helped his ability to be a ladies' man and he'd played up the ranger angle to his best benefit. he's not that guy anymore. he's got jagged edges that won't ever be worn smooth, torn places left by yancy's loss and five years of just going through the motions of life instead of truly living.
every once in a while, there's something that will spark his interest, something that's a bright flash of color in a bleak world. theirs is a world of monsters and villains, of big heroic clashes and final showdowns. he'd ducked into this bar for a quick drink and a few minutes to relax but he's captivated by the brunette nursing a drink beside him. )
Can I buy your next? I've been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for at least ten minutes.
every once in a while, there's something that will spark his interest, something that's a bright flash of color in a bleak world. theirs is a world of monsters and villains, of big heroic clashes and final showdowns. he'd ducked into this bar for a quick drink and a few minutes to relax but he's captivated by the brunette nursing a drink beside him. )
Can I buy your next? I've been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for at least ten minutes.
( she's drinking. she doesn't remember what it is that's in the glass — it might be rum and coke, might be a gin and tonic, might be straight vodka in a dirty cup; she doesn't know and doesn't rightly care. whatever it is, it's bitter. more importantly, it's strong. strong enough that daisy doesn't notice the man settling to her right, or the fact that his gaze doesn't leave her profile the entire time she sips at it.
she should notice. by all rights, she should be aware of her surroundings, be competent and capable enough to recognize when someone's in her space. but she's a little distracted tonight, a little loose at the seams from the alcohol flowing through her veins, so she doesn't.
she only notices when he talks; it's then that her attention swivels, shifts across from the bartop to his face, takes in all of him. god, he's good-looking, isn't he? daisy's not affronted by the interruption. no, she's all smiles as she shifts to face him, a wicked grin that crinkles the corners of her eyes and teases a dimple from her cheeks. )
I guess that depends on what you plan on buying me. ( a bold faced lie. ) I should warn you, I'm pretty demanding.
( #inbed. )
she should notice. by all rights, she should be aware of her surroundings, be competent and capable enough to recognize when someone's in her space. but she's a little distracted tonight, a little loose at the seams from the alcohol flowing through her veins, so she doesn't.
she only notices when he talks; it's then that her attention swivels, shifts across from the bartop to his face, takes in all of him. god, he's good-looking, isn't he? daisy's not affronted by the interruption. no, she's all smiles as she shifts to face him, a wicked grin that crinkles the corners of her eyes and teases a dimple from her cheeks. )
I guess that depends on what you plan on buying me. ( a bold faced lie. ) I should warn you, I'm pretty demanding.
( #inbed. )
i. my autocorrect won't finish pterodactyl for me and i'm feeling personally attacked.
ii. EXCUSE YOU. i wasn't convicted of a felony, i just committed one.
iii. he keeps trying to sext me and all i can do is respond with descriptions of what i'm eating.
iv. i'm somewhere between crying and wanting to fist fight a homeless man. it's been a weird day.
v. translate this into russian*, please: "my vagina is not a chew toy and if you bite me again i will slap you"
( *feel free to substitute for language of choice )
i'm not your phone assistant, daisy.
do it yourself or at the very least figure out how to make your phone do it for you.
do it yourself or at the very least figure out how to make your phone do it for you.
( talk about hitting the jackpot.
as her eyes skim over the last transmission, skye doesn't bother to hide the smile that curves her mouth up, so wide and bright it almost hurts as it pushes in against her cheeks. there's nobody here to see it, so why pretend otherwise?
this time, though, she doesn't have much time to wait. just a few seconds, apparently, which is really not enough time to do more than hurriedly throw her hair up into a topknot and her sweater on over her head; upon reflection, she might have considered doing those in the opposite order, considering that rushing to tug an oversized sweater on mostly just undid all of her attempts at cute and casual hairstyling.
tugging said sweater back off in a rush as a knock raps on the door? definitely no favors done to her hair, but at least she won't look like a homeless grandma for company. small silver linings, right? )
One sec!
( just enough time to breathe in, adjust her shirt, and open the door with a smile that only gets wider at the sight of a man who is quickly becoming her favorite person in all of the city. pun not intended, but not inaccurate either. )
Hi. ( don't get breathy on us now, skye. ) Took you long enough, huh?
as her eyes skim over the last transmission, skye doesn't bother to hide the smile that curves her mouth up, so wide and bright it almost hurts as it pushes in against her cheeks. there's nobody here to see it, so why pretend otherwise?
this time, though, she doesn't have much time to wait. just a few seconds, apparently, which is really not enough time to do more than hurriedly throw her hair up into a topknot and her sweater on over her head; upon reflection, she might have considered doing those in the opposite order, considering that rushing to tug an oversized sweater on mostly just undid all of her attempts at cute and casual hairstyling.
tugging said sweater back off in a rush as a knock raps on the door? definitely no favors done to her hair, but at least she won't look like a homeless grandma for company. small silver linings, right? )
One sec!
( just enough time to breathe in, adjust her shirt, and open the door with a smile that only gets wider at the sight of a man who is quickly becoming her favorite person in all of the city. pun not intended, but not inaccurate either. )
Hi. ( don't get breathy on us now, skye. ) Took you long enough, huh?
[ Wally folds his arms across his chest as he casually leans a shoulder against the door frame just outside of Skye's apartment after knocking. His brain has a habit of not working properly whenever he's in her presence, not that she seems to mind too much, but this time he is determined to play it cool.
But any thoughts he has of doing just that go out the window the moment the door is pulled inwards and Skye is standing in front of him a second later. It's hard to be cool when her teasing greeting has him grinning ear to ear like an idiot. Which is something he also has a tendency of doing whenever he's around her. ]
I thought I'd take the scenic route for once. [ He reaches up to pluck the small device that allows him to monitor all of the city's emergency calls while he's on patrol out of his ear. The reason it took him five whole seconds to get here is because he had to make a speedy detour to put out a fire near the outskirts. ] Still beat your pizza guy, didn't I.
But any thoughts he has of doing just that go out the window the moment the door is pulled inwards and Skye is standing in front of him a second later. It's hard to be cool when her teasing greeting has him grinning ear to ear like an idiot. Which is something he also has a tendency of doing whenever he's around her. ]
I thought I'd take the scenic route for once. [ He reaches up to pluck the small device that allows him to monitor all of the city's emergency calls while he's on patrol out of his ear. The reason it took him five whole seconds to get here is because he had to make a speedy detour to put out a fire near the outskirts. ] Still beat your pizza guy, didn't I.
[ fitz doesn't know how long they've been there, half-sat and half-crouched at an uncomfortable angle. eventually, he manages to steer them to the bed, a sturdier perch on the edge, if nothing else. he can't spy his watch from his current vantage point, with his arms tight around skye, but he isn't fussed enough to untangle their limbs. no one else has interrupted, at least, likely enjoying a drink or a nap after receiving the "positive" results forged by fitz himself. good, seeing as he thinks any of his fellow agents would question the length of his stay in the quarantine room, particularly given his recent reclusive tendencies. bit ironic that the day he finally manages to get the right words out is the same day that someone else's life turns topsy-turvy.
he doesn't want to let her go, not when every moment after this will be different. and fragile, he thinks, at least for a time. even after breaking the sanctity of the lab (of scientific protocol) and his relationship with simmons, he feels as though he should have done more. if he hadn't been so upset when he spoke to skye, or if he'd been quicker and trusted his conclusions — ]
Skye. [ without moving away from her, he starts and stops, voice soft.] Don't get too excited, but I think — [ what's the word what's the word what's the word? ah. ] — I think you've ruined my cardigan.
[ from the crying and the snot and the bloody hands. skye has definitely teased him for the cardigans before now, so he hopes it amuses her that he might lose one of his granddad-staples tonight. god, he thinks he'd say anything to make her laugh right now. he already knows that he'll do whatever is required to keep her safe. ]
he doesn't want to let her go, not when every moment after this will be different. and fragile, he thinks, at least for a time. even after breaking the sanctity of the lab (of scientific protocol) and his relationship with simmons, he feels as though he should have done more. if he hadn't been so upset when he spoke to skye, or if he'd been quicker and trusted his conclusions — ]
Skye. [ without moving away from her, he starts and stops, voice soft.] Don't get too excited, but I think — [ what's the word what's the word what's the word? ah. ] — I think you've ruined my cardigan.
[ from the crying and the snot and the bloody hands. skye has definitely teased him for the cardigans before now, so he hopes it amuses her that he might lose one of his granddad-staples tonight. god, he thinks he'd say anything to make her laugh right now. he already knows that he'll do whatever is required to keep her safe. ]
( her limbs feel heavy, as if they're filled with a strange mixture of cement and sloshing water. mixed with the exhaustion that settles in every nook and cranny of her bones — unsurprisingly, there are quite a few of those lately — it seems that skye may never find it within herself to move.
she feels sort of bad about his cardigan. not too much; it's a fleeting regret that passes without fanfare, in one metaphorical ear and out the other. to be fair, he can just buy another. there's no shortage of cardigans available for catalog purchase. but when he mentions it, she frowns, mouth pressed firm against the crook of his neck even as she does her best to take in slow, steady breaths.
it's a bit of a losing battle, what with the choking cries that keep getting muffled in her throat, but she's doing her best. in between, words croak out, quiet and unsteady: )
I'm sorry. ( about the cardigan. about jemma. about making him lie. about ruining the team. about being wrong. about so many things that she can't quite put into words, so many meanings that her voice cracks in the process, hot tears spilling out again beneath tightly shut lids. ) Fitz, I'm so sorry...
( well, if it wasn't already ruined, it surely will be now. )
I'm so stupid.
she feels sort of bad about his cardigan. not too much; it's a fleeting regret that passes without fanfare, in one metaphorical ear and out the other. to be fair, he can just buy another. there's no shortage of cardigans available for catalog purchase. but when he mentions it, she frowns, mouth pressed firm against the crook of his neck even as she does her best to take in slow, steady breaths.
it's a bit of a losing battle, what with the choking cries that keep getting muffled in her throat, but she's doing her best. in between, words croak out, quiet and unsteady: )
I'm sorry. ( about the cardigan. about jemma. about making him lie. about ruining the team. about being wrong. about so many things that she can't quite put into words, so many meanings that her voice cracks in the process, hot tears spilling out again beneath tightly shut lids. ) Fitz, I'm so sorry...
( well, if it wasn't already ruined, it surely will be now. )
I'm so stupid.
[ by the time daisy darkens the doorway of the space they're calling home, tired has become more than just an adjective. it's a state of mind, a part of her personality; it hangs from her bones like so much weight, exhaustion evident in the dirt that's ground itself into her skin, exposing every laugh line and each dash of crow's feet across her face.
wanda, called out in between coat shuffling to the floor, pooling at the bottom of the coathanger as it has so many times before. there's no immediate answer, so daisy moves on. her satchel finds its home on the couch, tucked into a corner where it's immediately swallowed up in the pile of pillows serving as a backrest; belt and shoes too are deposited, discarded somewhere in the length of the hallway.
she considers calling out again. it's late, though — late enough that the sky's long since given out on keeping any sort of light in it, thick clouds muddling any remaining starlight and leaving the world draped in inky blackness. the girl's probably asleep, daisy assumes; might as well crawl into bed, too.
perhaps it's that assumption that prevents her from bothering to turn on the light. whoops? don't shoot, wanda, don't shoot. ]
wanda, called out in between coat shuffling to the floor, pooling at the bottom of the coathanger as it has so many times before. there's no immediate answer, so daisy moves on. her satchel finds its home on the couch, tucked into a corner where it's immediately swallowed up in the pile of pillows serving as a backrest; belt and shoes too are deposited, discarded somewhere in the length of the hallway.
she considers calling out again. it's late, though — late enough that the sky's long since given out on keeping any sort of light in it, thick clouds muddling any remaining starlight and leaving the world draped in inky blackness. the girl's probably asleep, daisy assumes; might as well crawl into bed, too.
perhaps it's that assumption that prevents her from bothering to turn on the light. whoops? don't shoot, wanda, don't shoot. ]
[ wanda is twitchy enough to shoot, but it's tempered by grief -- so much grief. she doesn't even realize she didn't turn any of the lights on in the apartment, small bathroom off the bedroom illuminated only by the phone in her lap and little floating orbs of red light.
she finally hears daisy as she slips into the room, trying to shake herself out of grief to call out, flicking a wrist to turn the bathroom light on as the red lights dissolve. ]
Daisy. [ it's a croak. ] In here.
[ wanda should move, but instead she stays draped in the bathtub, legs dangling over the side, empty bag of doritos on the floor in front of her next to the half empty bottle of red wine. ]
she finally hears daisy as she slips into the room, trying to shake herself out of grief to call out, flicking a wrist to turn the bathroom light on as the red lights dissolve. ]
Daisy. [ it's a croak. ] In here.
[ wanda should move, but instead she stays draped in the bathtub, legs dangling over the side, empty bag of doritos on the floor in front of her next to the half empty bottle of red wine. ]
01. i hope you don't mind if i never tell my boss about this.
02. to be totally honest, i have no idea where i am. but i do know there's a special on margaritas.
03. is no an emotion? because that's how i'm feeling right now.
04. i'm about thirty seconds from blasting a hole into the nearest bank just to make it rain. dolla dolla bills, motherfuckers.
05. for the last time: i'm in a congressional hearing right now, i can't just put you on speaker phone.
i'm sure you've got a lot on your plate
[actually, he's pretty sure she's just sitting in her van trolling people on the net and shoveling her face full of some sort of gross processed junk food, but he'll give her the benefit of the doubt.]
but i've got a job if you want the $$$.
[actually, he's pretty sure she's just sitting in her van trolling people on the net and shoveling her face full of some sort of gross processed junk food, but he'll give her the benefit of the doubt.]
but i've got a job if you want the $$$.
[at first glance the beverage resembles one of the many beers he's had over the years: amber colored, just enough head but not so much that it's a wasted pour. a careful sniff tells him it's anything but, however, as a sickly sweet scent fills his nostrils. robbie raises an eyebrow and gives her a suspicious once over.]
You trying to kill me? I bet this stuff has more sugar than I need in a week.
[as if caloric intake is going to kill him when cuts and bullets and flames are basically no match.]
Why don't you take a sip first? I'm still on the fence.
You trying to kill me? I bet this stuff has more sugar than I need in a week.
[as if caloric intake is going to kill him when cuts and bullets and flames are basically no match.]
Why don't you take a sip first? I'm still on the fence.
[ they go on a whim. it's gabe's idea — a day of normalcy, a day of absolutely asinine garbage entertainment, something that couldn't be possibly any further removed from hellfire and armageddon and killer robots trying to take over the world. granted, gabe had no idea terminator was still an active intellectual property still represented in a modern theme park, but that had been easily avoidable.
the wizarding world, though? it's absolutely everything daisy wants it to be. it's crammed full of people, everyone gawking at everything but them, with a million choices of ridiculous things to eat and drink. like butterbeer, ridiculously sweet butterbeer, that looks just the way she thought it might. she's a kid in a candy store, and robbie reyes is the grouchy boyfriend dragged along for the ride.
but he's still going to drink the thing, even if he whines. ]
No way! I want the perfect Instagram picture of you with the beer 'stache. [ you know, over his real 'stache. ] I promised Gabe we'd get a good shot.
the wizarding world, though? it's absolutely everything daisy wants it to be. it's crammed full of people, everyone gawking at everything but them, with a million choices of ridiculous things to eat and drink. like butterbeer, ridiculously sweet butterbeer, that looks just the way she thought it might. she's a kid in a candy store, and robbie reyes is the grouchy boyfriend dragged along for the ride.
but he's still going to drink the thing, even if he whines. ]
No way! I want the perfect Instagram picture of you with the beer 'stache. [ you know, over his real 'stache. ] I promised Gabe we'd get a good shot.
something something why do all my starts to you involve somewhat clandestine meetings
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
heliophilous
2019-01-16 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ his arm hurts. it's been a few hours since reeva payge had dropped him with just the sound of her voice. when he closes his eyes, he can still hear the echo of it in his ear and his arm throbs. it's burned but not so badly that he needs a doctor. it's red, painful but he's done worse to people with his hands and now, after this, he won't hesitate to try and burn the eyes out of reeva or his squadron of telepathic triplets heads.
he was done playing nice.
going back to headquarters was the plan but as soon as the frosts had tossed him out of on his ass, he'd made a new plan. one that he's really not supposed to be doing. hadn't she told him to lose her number when things started getting hairy? he knows that it's not because things hadn't been going well but because she had to be free to do her work and an attachment wouldn't make that possible.
but, he's really not thinking clearly. he stumbles into one of the undergrounds cars and climbs in, turning the keys and hitting the gas. he knows where he's going. he knows where she'll be and if she's there with other people, oh well.
he wants to see her.
a few hours later and he's pulling up in front of an apartment building that's seen better days. but, he knows that the interior looks better than the exterior. trudging up the stairs, he finds her apartment, knocks on the door and waits.
he'll wait for awhile if he has to. ]
he was done playing nice.
going back to headquarters was the plan but as soon as the frosts had tossed him out of on his ass, he'd made a new plan. one that he's really not supposed to be doing. hadn't she told him to lose her number when things started getting hairy? he knows that it's not because things hadn't been going well but because she had to be free to do her work and an attachment wouldn't make that possible.
but, he's really not thinking clearly. he stumbles into one of the undergrounds cars and climbs in, turning the keys and hitting the gas. he knows where he's going. he knows where she'll be and if she's there with other people, oh well.
he wants to see her.
a few hours later and he's pulling up in front of an apartment building that's seen better days. but, he knows that the interior looks better than the exterior. trudging up the stairs, he finds her apartment, knocks on the door and waits.
he'll wait for awhile if he has to. ]
[ daisy doesn't really do "other people". on the rare evenings where she's not strapped into a seat on the zephyr or sleeping in the back of a shield van with a stakeout kit, she relishes in the kind of bachelor pad freedom that requires complete and total solitude — like marathoning trashy reality tv thanks to her freeloaded cable subscription, eating way too much chinese takeout, and laying on the couch without pants on because no one was there to judge her.
except, apparently, for the knock on the door. she's not expecting another delivery, no one's been invited over, and her neighbors sure as hell aren't around to come borrow some sugar. not that she had any to begin with.
but the knocking doesn't stop... so fine, she'll wrap a blanket around her waist and yank open the door, fully ready to snap a quick "i'm not interested" at whatever idiotic salesman happened to trudge up to her fifth floor walk-up, only to find something very different on the other end. or someone different. ]
Marcos? [ uh... ] What the fuck?
[ the door is still open, she hasn't slammed it in his face or anything, but she's not exactly shuffling out of the way to let him in either. she's just a little too flabbergasted to know what to do beyond stare at him. ]
except, apparently, for the knock on the door. she's not expecting another delivery, no one's been invited over, and her neighbors sure as hell aren't around to come borrow some sugar. not that she had any to begin with.
but the knocking doesn't stop... so fine, she'll wrap a blanket around her waist and yank open the door, fully ready to snap a quick "i'm not interested" at whatever idiotic salesman happened to trudge up to her fifth floor walk-up, only to find something very different on the other end. or someone different. ]
Marcos? [ uh... ] What the fuck?
[ the door is still open, she hasn't slammed it in his face or anything, but she's not exactly shuffling out of the way to let him in either. she's just a little too flabbergasted to know what to do beyond stare at him. ]
say your piece.
[ that's it, that's all she gets. marcos has, of course, made it back home and they've spoken. but as irritate as he was with marcos, that was still his best friend and he was going to take his side above all else. ]
[ that's it, that's all she gets. marcos has, of course, made it back home and they've spoken. but as irritate as he was with marcos, that was still his best friend and he was going to take his side above all else. ]
How late will you be tonight?
[ he still hates being in this world alone. he's not scared, he just...doesn't like it. it's too new and he feels useless. it's not like uncle or even the kgb exists and most american agencies are not going to allow a former russian spy in their midst.
so, he does freelance work when he can and that is not often. ]
[ he still hates being in this world alone. he's not scared, he just...doesn't like it. it's too new and he feels useless. it's not like uncle or even the kgb exists and most american agencies are not going to allow a former russian spy in their midst.
so, he does freelance work when he can and that is not often. ]
[ it does not matter the weather, illya always makes it a point to get up early and go for a job. he likes to jog. that was true in the sixties, it was true in new amsterdam and it is true now. he likes to jog and thus, he wakes up before the sun rises most day. he runs several miles and then he is back to either get ready for whatever activities he has planned for the day or to at least see daisy out the door before going about his day.
it's snowing today. it's snowing and cold and his chest hurts just the tiniest bit by the time he finishes his run. he knows his hands are chilly, his nose is red and he actually wants to be inside. there were parts of russia where it got very cold but he tended to avoid those so this type of weather is an entirely new thing.
the apartment is still dark and still when he slips back in and he uncharacteristically makes a mess as he walks to the bedroom. he toes off boots, tosses his coat and hat on a chair, and is almost down to his shorts by the time he slips back into bed.
the warmth of the blankets is almost immediate but he needs a little more. and since daisy's still asleep and still warm, he takes advantage by pressing his cold nose right between her shoulder blades and wrapping himself around her. ]
it's snowing today. it's snowing and cold and his chest hurts just the tiniest bit by the time he finishes his run. he knows his hands are chilly, his nose is red and he actually wants to be inside. there were parts of russia where it got very cold but he tended to avoid those so this type of weather is an entirely new thing.
the apartment is still dark and still when he slips back in and he uncharacteristically makes a mess as he walks to the bedroom. he toes off boots, tosses his coat and hat on a chair, and is almost down to his shorts by the time he slips back into bed.
the warmth of the blankets is almost immediate but he needs a little more. and since daisy's still asleep and still warm, he takes advantage by pressing his cold nose right between her shoulder blades and wrapping himself around her. ]
[ she wakes to cold — frigid temperatures all over, from the chill of his skin pressing against her own to the draft that swarms through the room, carried from the front door right into the bedroom thanks to too many doors left open in his wake — and daisy shivers, goosebumps dragging up and down her skin as she squirms under the covers.
sure, he wants to cuddle, but he's freezing. it's not her fault he decided to brave the cold when they have a perfectly good gymn on the fifth floor of their apartment building! he could have just run on the treadmill... ]
Babe, [ croaked out as she rolls onto her belly, face burying into the pillow, ] S'cold.
[ yes, it is. ]
sure, he wants to cuddle, but he's freezing. it's not her fault he decided to brave the cold when they have a perfectly good gymn on the fifth floor of their apartment building! he could have just run on the treadmill... ]
Babe, [ croaked out as she rolls onto her belly, face burying into the pillow, ] S'cold.
[ yes, it is. ]
hey.
[slides a text into her phone like it hasn't been 84 years or something. leave it to roberto to send a very casual open for what should probably be a emotionally heavy reunion.
and then to follow...]
are you responsible for the collection of hula girls on my dash?
[slides a text into her phone like it hasn't been 84 years or something. leave it to roberto to send a very casual open for what should probably be a emotionally heavy reunion.
and then to follow...]
are you responsible for the collection of hula girls on my dash?
i know nothing about cartels and their inner workings so pretend this is how it works
heliophilous
2019-02-18 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he likes to work alone but carmen loves giving him random tag alongs to whatever job she's assigning him today. he tells her that he doesn't need anyone but the power that flows through his body but she's insistent.
he's pretty sure she gets off on it. it would be amusing if it weren't so irritating. he's not a babysitter and he doesn't have time to just sit around and wait for the cartel's newest recruit. he does't even know their name. he doesn't care. he'll do this one job and then send them on their way, back to baying at carmen's heels for attention and he'll go back to doing jobs on his own, getting his pay and ignoring everyone save for one or two people he cared about.
he's leaning against a vehicle, arms crossed and fingers tapping impatiently against the expensive fabric of his jacket. it's going to get dusty if he has to wait too much longer and if that happens, he's going to just end up leaving this person behind.
eventually, he pulls his phone out, checking for any messages about a delay. when he sees nothing, he flicks over to the random tetris game he'd downloaded when he'd been bored and starts a new one.
it's surprisingly calming. and if he beats this level and this new tag along hasn't shown up, then he's leaving them behind and they can explain to carmen why they weren't punctual. ]
he's pretty sure she gets off on it. it would be amusing if it weren't so irritating. he's not a babysitter and he doesn't have time to just sit around and wait for the cartel's newest recruit. he does't even know their name. he doesn't care. he'll do this one job and then send them on their way, back to baying at carmen's heels for attention and he'll go back to doing jobs on his own, getting his pay and ignoring everyone save for one or two people he cared about.
he's leaning against a vehicle, arms crossed and fingers tapping impatiently against the expensive fabric of his jacket. it's going to get dusty if he has to wait too much longer and if that happens, he's going to just end up leaving this person behind.
eventually, he pulls his phone out, checking for any messages about a delay. when he sees nothing, he flicks over to the random tetris game he'd downloaded when he'd been bored and starts a new one.
it's surprisingly calming. and if he beats this level and this new tag along hasn't shown up, then he's leaving them behind and they can explain to carmen why they weren't punctual. ]
[ this — the guerra family cartel — was not an expected assignment. she'd been on extraction duty, helping to get a small clutch of inhumans over to a shield safehouse in san antonio, when an earthquake had hit. she'd helped to counteract the quake's effect on the apartment building — and had run into carmen guerra herself along the way. granted, she hadn't known who it was at the time, and if she had, she might have just accidentally turned the other way... but it worked out. carmen had screamed, looking terrified of the crumbling walls and unable to find a way out, and daisy had kept the building from collapsing in on them, and found herself with a particularly powerful ally as a result.
not that carmen knew who she was, either. no, all carmen knew was that daisy was a young woman alone with powers, looking for a fresh start that the cartel could certainly provide. or, more specifically, skye was. and as a young woman with strange, potentially deadly abilities, skye was being tested — to prove her worth, partly, but also to prove her loyalty. if she could pass these tests, she might learn more about the cartel's inner workings, their abuse of mutants and inhumans they'd kidnapped or blackmailed or brainwashed into working for them, and take them down for good.
that was an opportunity she couldn't deny. so here she was, dressed and fitted with a wire, sent out on her first mission. do what it takes, she'd been told. whatever you have to do. you know the rules. (don't get caught. the only rule.)
it's probably not a coincidence that there's only person in the lot when she arrives, and so daisy parks near the warehouse at the far end. her boots crunch against the gravel as she walks, newly cropped hair swinging with each step; to the man currently preoccupied with his phone, she offers a greeting as she approaches. ]
You must be the prodigal sun.
[ pun intended, carmen had said with a smile that made something in daisy's stomach twist. ]
not that carmen knew who she was, either. no, all carmen knew was that daisy was a young woman alone with powers, looking for a fresh start that the cartel could certainly provide. or, more specifically, skye was. and as a young woman with strange, potentially deadly abilities, skye was being tested — to prove her worth, partly, but also to prove her loyalty. if she could pass these tests, she might learn more about the cartel's inner workings, their abuse of mutants and inhumans they'd kidnapped or blackmailed or brainwashed into working for them, and take them down for good.
that was an opportunity she couldn't deny. so here she was, dressed and fitted with a wire, sent out on her first mission. do what it takes, she'd been told. whatever you have to do. you know the rules. (don't get caught. the only rule.)
it's probably not a coincidence that there's only person in the lot when she arrives, and so daisy parks near the warehouse at the far end. her boots crunch against the gravel as she walks, newly cropped hair swinging with each step; to the man currently preoccupied with his phone, she offers a greeting as she approaches. ]
You must be the prodigal sun.
[ pun intended, carmen had said with a smile that made something in daisy's stomach twist. ]
[ he doesn't really know how he ended up here. he remembers lorna showing up at his door and he remembers holding dawn and then the click of the door closing behind her and now he's here. sitting outside daisy's door and waiting for her to show up because – he doesn't want to be alone and that's all he feels right now.
alone. desolate. completely and utterly hollowed out. everything that he thought he'd been allowed to have taken away in the span of a heartbeat. he doesn't even know what to do anymore but sit outside her door like some pathetic loser. he doesn't even know if she'll be home today. maybs ehs' out on a mission. maybe he'll be sitting here for weeks.
he pulls his knees up and rests his elbows against them, hiding his face and hoping that maybe the ground will open up and just swallow him. it'd hurt less than this. ]
alone. desolate. completely and utterly hollowed out. everything that he thought he'd been allowed to have taken away in the span of a heartbeat. he doesn't even know what to do anymore but sit outside her door like some pathetic loser. he doesn't even know if she'll be home today. maybs ehs' out on a mission. maybe he'll be sitting here for weeks.
he pulls his knees up and rests his elbows against them, hiding his face and hoping that maybe the ground will open up and just swallow him. it'd hurt less than this. ]
[ it would be particularly heartbreaking if he had to sit outside her door for weeks, but marcos is in luck. while daisy hadn't been home at the time he'd originally shown up, it doesn't take her long to come back — she'd only been out long enough to get something to eat, and so when the elevator doors open to her floor and she exits to find him sitting on the steps, that bag of takeout unfortunately meets its untimely end crashing out of her grip and into the floor.
well, so much for her tacos, but there's more important things to worry about.
like her — well, she doesn't know what he is, but marcos is laying on the ground looking like he's ready to... something. cry? she's not sure. he looks miserable, though. ]
Marcos? [ he doesn't look up right away, and so daisy tosses her now-defeated bag in the trash; a moment later and she's kneeling next to him, a hand reaching to smooth out against his shoulder. ] Baby, hey. What's... what's going on?
[ closer, she can smell the faint burn of ozone, the hint of it that lingers whenever he gets upset, the burn of tears and the air when his powers get the best of his emotions. it's not a good sign. ]
Do you wanna come inside? Instead of sitting here on the floor?
well, so much for her tacos, but there's more important things to worry about.
like her — well, she doesn't know what he is, but marcos is laying on the ground looking like he's ready to... something. cry? she's not sure. he looks miserable, though. ]
Marcos? [ he doesn't look up right away, and so daisy tosses her now-defeated bag in the trash; a moment later and she's kneeling next to him, a hand reaching to smooth out against his shoulder. ] Baby, hey. What's... what's going on?
[ closer, she can smell the faint burn of ozone, the hint of it that lingers whenever he gets upset, the burn of tears and the air when his powers get the best of his emotions. it's not a good sign. ]
Do you wanna come inside? Instead of sitting here on the floor?
[ this is fine.
it's almost unnaturally quiet in the apartment but it's fine. he's been able to open the window and let some fresh air in now that the smell of burning and death seems to have eased away. the sun's out and he's only looked over his shoulder once or twice today.
it's fine despite the fact that he'd watched john and lorna follow clarice into a portal awhile ago after clarice's warning. it's fine that the struckers, still mourning reed, had left to spend time together and it's fine that marcos had volunteered to stay behind to keep an eye on daisy who thought running towards two mutants who could make things explode was a smart idea.
the injuries aren't dangerous, caitlin had said, but she hasn't woken up and he's been staring at her for what feels like hours. it's been long enough that zingo's gone from sitting at his feet to sitting across his lap. marcos has been scrolling through his phone, reading about what he assumes is esme's handiwork with benedict ryan.
he even, god help him, looked at farmville since an ad popped up while he'd been looking at news sites. ]
Come on, wake up.
[ it's not impatient but worried. caitlin couldn't predict when she'd wake up and the longer she stays so still and so pale means the more worried he gets. he's going to start pacing soon and zingo hates that.
sighing, he leans back and closes his eyes, rubbing his finger through zingo's hair. it feels like it's been awhile since he got sleep. a few days, maybe? he's not going to sleep now but he could just rest his eyes since daisy was doing plenty of that herself. ]
it's almost unnaturally quiet in the apartment but it's fine. he's been able to open the window and let some fresh air in now that the smell of burning and death seems to have eased away. the sun's out and he's only looked over his shoulder once or twice today.
it's fine despite the fact that he'd watched john and lorna follow clarice into a portal awhile ago after clarice's warning. it's fine that the struckers, still mourning reed, had left to spend time together and it's fine that marcos had volunteered to stay behind to keep an eye on daisy who thought running towards two mutants who could make things explode was a smart idea.
the injuries aren't dangerous, caitlin had said, but she hasn't woken up and he's been staring at her for what feels like hours. it's been long enough that zingo's gone from sitting at his feet to sitting across his lap. marcos has been scrolling through his phone, reading about what he assumes is esme's handiwork with benedict ryan.
he even, god help him, looked at farmville since an ad popped up while he'd been looking at news sites. ]
Come on, wake up.
[ it's not impatient but worried. caitlin couldn't predict when she'd wake up and the longer she stays so still and so pale means the more worried he gets. he's going to start pacing soon and zingo hates that.
sighing, he leans back and closes his eyes, rubbing his finger through zingo's hair. it feels like it's been awhile since he got sleep. a few days, maybe? he's not going to sleep now but he could just rest his eyes since daisy was doing plenty of that herself. ]
[ she wakes to the muted light of sunrise, crimson and gold streaming through the dirty windows of the apartment. she wakes to quiet, an uncomfortable silence that hangs like a shroud over the room, not even the sound of activity outside from curious onlookers or looters looking to take advantage of the purifiers' raid from earlier breaking the spell. she wakes to a headache that feels like the room is spinning — and to the sight of marcos, snoring softly in the armchair across the room, zingo sprawled comfortably across his lap, her dark eyes peering in daisy's direction.
it's zingo, unsurprisingly, who breaks the silence. when daisy pulls herself upright, her lightheadedness leaves her wobbly, a hand jutting out to catch herself from falling forward onto the floor; at the sight, zingo barks twice, her tail whipping back-and-forth against marcos' ribs.
daisy doesn't bark, but she does speak. ]
Marcos?
[ what time is it? what day is it? and, she wonders as her eyes slowly scan the room, taking in the lack of anyone else, where is everyone? the last thing she remembers is storming the inner circle's tower, and running into tweedle boom and tweedle bomb in the garage. she remembers storming forward, a pulse of energy flowing from her as she tried to quake them off their feet, flying backwards from a triggered tripline — and then nothing. she must have hit her head. ]
it's zingo, unsurprisingly, who breaks the silence. when daisy pulls herself upright, her lightheadedness leaves her wobbly, a hand jutting out to catch herself from falling forward onto the floor; at the sight, zingo barks twice, her tail whipping back-and-forth against marcos' ribs.
daisy doesn't bark, but she does speak. ]
Marcos?
[ what time is it? what day is it? and, she wonders as her eyes slowly scan the room, taking in the lack of anyone else, where is everyone? the last thing she remembers is storming the inner circle's tower, and running into tweedle boom and tweedle bomb in the garage. she remembers storming forward, a pulse of energy flowing from her as she tried to quake them off their feet, flying backwards from a triggered tripline — and then nothing. she must have hit her head. ]
[ it really hadn't been that difficult of a job. after the idiot had shown up, he'd been summarily dispatched with a few flicks of marcos' hand and toted back to carmen in the trunk of his car. she'd praised him for a job well done, patted him on the cheek, made him have a drink with her (celebratory, she said) before he'd excused himself.
he doesn't go home, though. no, he knows where he's going if only to knock on the door to both make sure she is in fact alive and to stare at her in annoyance until she told him what the problem was.
was he hopeful on that last bit? no. but it doesn't feel right to just leave it alone either. anyone else, he would. he'd just let the whole thing fade into the ether but, despite his pissiness and overall sour mood, he's in front of her door anyway.
he's still dust covered and a little bloody (not his) but he's there and knocking. that's something. ]
he doesn't go home, though. no, he knows where he's going if only to knock on the door to both make sure she is in fact alive and to stare at her in annoyance until she told him what the problem was.
was he hopeful on that last bit? no. but it doesn't feel right to just leave it alone either. anyone else, he would. he'd just let the whole thing fade into the ether but, despite his pissiness and overall sour mood, he's in front of her door anyway.
he's still dust covered and a little bloody (not his) but he's there and knocking. that's something. ]
[ she's not doing yoga. in fact, she's not doing anything at all — she'd been laying in the bathtub soaking in her own petulance and the heady aroma of jasmine and rosewater, patently ignoring her phone's occasional chimes from its dock in the other room. nobody knocks on her door usually, so daisy ignores it at first, assuming whatever message someone is trying to deliver to her can either come later or via text.
but then they knock again, and she hauls herself up, wrapping a towel around her midsection so as not to scandalize whomever's on the other side of the door.
suffice it to say mr finished-his-mission is not what she was expecting. she nearly closes the door in his face, but by some miracle of miracles, she thinks better of it... though she does, at least, walk away once he makes his way in. not for long. just enough to trade out a towel for a floral dressing gown, one she cinches tight around her waist. ]
You look like hell.
[ so sweet. ]
but then they knock again, and she hauls herself up, wrapping a towel around her midsection so as not to scandalize whomever's on the other side of the door.
suffice it to say mr finished-his-mission is not what she was expecting. she nearly closes the door in his face, but by some miracle of miracles, she thinks better of it... though she does, at least, walk away once he makes his way in. not for long. just enough to trade out a towel for a floral dressing gown, one she cinches tight around her waist. ]
You look like hell.
[ so sweet. ]
[ this job consisted of a lot of waiting around. some people, he knows, would be thankful for that. a high paying, low stress job where you got paid to stand around and look intimidating. and while illya certainly doesn't wish for something to cause chaos, he is not a fan of just waiting.
but, it is what has to be done. he waits, he escorts, he waits, he talks, he waits, he tries to keep her in line, he waits some more. it's been that way for years now and he thinks he might have quit if not for her and her alone. she is annoying and frustrating and completely out to give him a heart attack on a daily basis but she's also the reason he's stayed where he is.
he doesn't really think about what that means.
no, he waits. he's standing outside of a room right now, giving her some requested privacy to do whatever. if she climbs out a window, he is going to make sure she pays but he thinks they're past that now. she'd done that a few times to get away from him in the beginning but things had settled to comfortable and seamless.
too bad she was taking so long today. ]
If you are not out here in the next five minutes, I'm going to come inside and you know you don't want that. I'll make a scene and draw all sorts of ridiculous attention to you.
[ because he was a large, gruff russian who turned heads just because of his imposing stature. he'd learned the art of acting like a fool just to keep her in line. sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not. ]
Hurry up, you have other places to be.
but, it is what has to be done. he waits, he escorts, he waits, he talks, he waits, he tries to keep her in line, he waits some more. it's been that way for years now and he thinks he might have quit if not for her and her alone. she is annoying and frustrating and completely out to give him a heart attack on a daily basis but she's also the reason he's stayed where he is.
he doesn't really think about what that means.
no, he waits. he's standing outside of a room right now, giving her some requested privacy to do whatever. if she climbs out a window, he is going to make sure she pays but he thinks they're past that now. she'd done that a few times to get away from him in the beginning but things had settled to comfortable and seamless.
too bad she was taking so long today. ]
If you are not out here in the next five minutes, I'm going to come inside and you know you don't want that. I'll make a scene and draw all sorts of ridiculous attention to you.
[ because he was a large, gruff russian who turned heads just because of his imposing stature. he'd learned the art of acting like a fool just to keep her in line. sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not. ]
Hurry up, you have other places to be.
[ she doesn't want a bodyguard. hell, she doesn't need one. she's fully capable of defending herself if push comes to shove (or words come to bullets), and she certainly doesn't need a babysitter to tell her not to jaywalk across empty streets.
but because her body isn't inhumanly immortal, jiaying won't hear anything about it. daisy's had her fair share of supervisory figures since she was old enough to walk — first gordon, in his infinitely blind wisdom, and then others; now, and for the last few years, it's been illya. gruff, stoic, stern illya, who won't let her have a second's reprieve of peace and quiet without peeking his head in every few minutes. ]
I'm coming, [ is the grumbled reply, just loud enough to be heard through the door. she isn't happy about it, but she does eventually yank the door open, dressed and ready to go... wherever it is they have to go.
for the millionth time, she tries to get out of his presence. ]
You can stay here, you know. I can ride a cab just fine without adult supervision.
but because her body isn't inhumanly immortal, jiaying won't hear anything about it. daisy's had her fair share of supervisory figures since she was old enough to walk — first gordon, in his infinitely blind wisdom, and then others; now, and for the last few years, it's been illya. gruff, stoic, stern illya, who won't let her have a second's reprieve of peace and quiet without peeking his head in every few minutes. ]
I'm coming, [ is the grumbled reply, just loud enough to be heard through the door. she isn't happy about it, but she does eventually yank the door open, dressed and ready to go... wherever it is they have to go.
for the millionth time, she tries to get out of his presence. ]
You can stay here, you know. I can ride a cab just fine without adult supervision.
[ ⏮ ]
i'll be counting the nanoseconds.
[ an exaggeration. there's probably an app for that, but daisy hasn't bothered to download it. or maybe she has, but she hasn't bothered to pull it up. she knows he'll be home sooner or later, and with the convenience of a little trick called phasing, she knows she doesn't even have to get up to unlock the door.
no, she can just wait, cross-legged on the sofa, and let suspense do the rest. ]
i'll be counting the nanoseconds.
[ an exaggeration. there's probably an app for that, but daisy hasn't bothered to download it. or maybe she has, but she hasn't bothered to pull it up. she knows he'll be home sooner or later, and with the convenience of a little trick called phasing, she knows she doesn't even have to get up to unlock the door.
no, she can just wait, cross-legged on the sofa, and let suspense do the rest. ]
[ It only takes a few nanoseconds at most until a rush of wind flows through the living room, and Wally is standing in front of where Daisy is seated with his hands in the pocket of his jeans, bluish-white lightning continuing to flicker and crackle around him for a brief moment longer from the use of his powers before subsiding. ]
Don't you look comfortable.
[ A lazy smile slowly spreads across his face, his greeting tempered a bit by the knowledge he's still technically in the doghouse. ]
Hi.
Don't you look comfortable.
[ A lazy smile slowly spreads across his face, his greeting tempered a bit by the knowledge he's still technically in the doghouse. ]
Hi.
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