10832/Putting face to name

Putting face to name
Date of Scene:	20 April 2022
Location:	R and D Labs: Triskelion
Synopsis:	SHIELD and SWORD, besties for life, bump heads about the upcoming spaceport.
Cast of Characters:	Leopold Fitz, Darcy Lewis, Jemma Simmons

---

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Morning over the Triskelion.

It's early enough that agents are just now beginning to file in for their office work, and there are more than a few people wandering the corridors with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. This early for some, it requires the 'bump of direction' in order to get where they need to go. For others?

Well, Dr Leopold Fitz practically lives here. In the lab, that is. Perhaps there's a suite with his name on the door, or if not on the door, at least programmed into a keypad, but if there is? He probably has a modified roomba to just dust for him.

There's a small setup for tea on the side of the lab, away from the tables. The kettle is steaming, the tea is properly steeped, and the good doctor is holding his teacup in hand, standing at the far end of one of his research tables, taking the occasional small sip. He's dressed in his 'normal', that is, button down shirt, a jumper over it, slacks and boots. Off to the side, and hanging up, he does actually own a 'white coat' with his name on it. At belt level, his SHIELD ID badge hangs. Unless he leaves the lab, it's lower on his body so it doesn't get in the way of testing.

On the table before him is a chunk of moon rock. For all that it is, it is getting lost in the data displays that hang in the air, blue and green numbers scroll by rapidly, ever changing for each diagnostic that is put to it. He watches closely, carefully, clear blue eyes studying both the numbers and the unmoving rock.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy is not okay with the concept of mornings. Mornings are not a thing anyone should have to endure - least of all without coffee. Thankfully she has coffee in hand and has been sipping it as she makes her way through the corridors of the Triskelion toward Research and Development.

Like any good tourist to the motherland, she has been randomly testing her SWORD id against doors she passes just to see which ones will and which ones won't open. More than once she's apologised by starting to speak a sentence and then just walking away leaving the agents within bewildered.

Dressed in jeans and a black blouse - over that a SWORD blazer with the SWORD logo over the left breast. She has her SWORD ID hanging from a lanyard connected to her belt. The door to the lab opens up and she leans against the door frame a moment, taking a nice long sip of her coffee, and then introduces herself. "Hey. What's up. I'm Darcy. And I was told there was a Doctor Fitzsimmons in here I needed to talk to about some space thing?"

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Fitz approaches the table as a couple of red numbers scroll past quickly, and he sets his teacup down in order to reach out and manipulate the data stream, pulling it back, and opening yet another window in which to look. "There-- whut?"

The door opening, letting different light into his lab gains the man's attention quickly, and twisting around to look over his shoulder at the intrusion, he's ready-

"Whut?" There is a decided Scottish burr even to the single-syllabled word. "Wh-" No, that was just answered.

"'Some space thing?'" Maybe he's not quite awake enough for human contact, and the tea is juuuuust over there. He shuts down the holographic displays on his current research, and takes the couple of steps towards his tea again.

"Dr Fitz. Dr Simmons has the lab next to me." When she's dissecting alien creatures. He continues, the name repeated filled with questions, "Darcy, from.." from the looks of it, SWORD. The arm that does lots of fighty things. Heh. "Right. SWORD. How can I help you?" There's a pause before, "An', please don't touch anything."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy considers for a moment as she's presented with 'Whut' in such a decidedly non-American accent. "Cool, you're from the isles. I went there once with Jane. There were aliens." She sips her coffee and then takes off her sunglasses. She squints at the world for a moment and then walks in and grazes her finger tips close to touching things just long enough for Fitz to notice her disobedience.

"The space port thing, you know, with the Amazons and the... whoever else is doing the thing." Yes, she totally paid attention in the briefing. It went 'blah blah blah go to SHIELD and talk to Dr. Fitzsimmons'. "I didn't realise you were two people. Which one of you is the engineer then."

She offers a look at the logo on her blazer and repeats him, "SWORD." Her coffee is placed down on the edge of the holotable and she mimes tapping buttons while saying, "Beep boop beep boop. Doctor Darcy Lewis, Astrophysics." She offers her hand to him.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
"Scotland, yes.." Blue eyes watch her progress into the lab, the hand juuuuust not quite touching, and he chuffs softly. //Why is it that when people are told NOT to touch things, they redouble their efforts to do so?// "There are a great deal of aliens everywhere, I might argue." Definitely that burr that some people either find difficult to understand or.. just difficult to understand.

"Oh.. aye.. the spaceport." Tea is once again gained, and he leans on his table, the cup lifted once more. Once that next sip is taken, it's lowered long enough, "I'm the engineer an' physicist." Multiple PhDs.. ahem. "Dr Simmons is the biochemist." There's a pause before, "I happens all the time, though. People thinkin' we're the same. We've just worked t'gether for years, an' it's gotten easy for them. If y'see one, the other isn't far behind." Just fair warning.

When Darcy introduces her self properly, however, there's a hint of a change that comes over him; his manner and mien shift, and there's a hint of a relieved smile on his face. While he's not an elitist per se, it's just.. easier to communicate at times because the educational experience, at the very least, is very much similar. There are certain traits that pull a person to certain fields, after all. "Dr Darcy Lewis," Fits repeats, and he nods, setting his empty cup aside, "I've heard of you, actually. One of the few of us that can actually go out into the world an' teach."

Holding his hand out to meet her own outstretched, "Dr Leopold Fitz. Y'can call me Leo.. or Fitz, or, well.. Dr. Fitz is fine as well."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy is not one to miss an opportunity to be facetious or insert some snark. It's how she got through her very weird years writing her PhD after all. She kind of figured from the 'don't touch anything' that he's used to dealing with agents, not fellow academics. She's also used to being under-estimated.

"You'd think if someone were going to make a spaceport they'd need more spaceships - or spaceships that need a spaceport. The ones I've seen can land just about anywhere - except that one that crashed in to the Titan's Tower last year... hm."

The coffee is retrieved and a sip is taken. "Fitz, Simmons, two people. Got it." She makes a 'snipsnip' motion with her fingers. "I'm sure whatever you've heard about me is an exaggeration. I go out of my way to do as little work as possible at all times." Unless things are serious.. then she gets serious. People never remember that bit though.

Heck, she's been sent to discuss a spaceport with an engineer who is vastly more qualified to judge things than she is. Her superiors aren't always the brightest of bulbs. That's a good thought, one worthy of sharing, "My superiors are idiots. I'm meant to evaluate the spaceport for planetary security.. and that's too many names. I'm just going to call you Fitz. It's the shortest."

"Just call me Darcy, it's what I am programmed to respond to. That and 'hey you'." She uses her coffee as hand warmers, "Also, the trick to teaching is not to care if anyone is listening. It's less stressful that way."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Like any lab, there are lots of breakable things. There are lots of little pieces that are very much like puzzle pieces; they go missing and it's the devil trying to replace them through some channels. Particularly if they're so very specialized that they're literally the only one (or two) in the world.

But, yes. Fitz is so very, very used to talking to agents wandering through who were never taught at a young age to keep their hands behind their backs and NOT touch a thing.

"It's my understandin' that there are spaceships," Fitz says slowly, side-eyeing his own tea setup once more. "It's more, a port of entry, is the way I'm seein' it? Customs. Givin' them something of a giant helicopter pad marked 'H'." Finally, he wanders towards the tea, and his second cup of morning goodness. All that's missing is a scone..

Brows do rise as he reaches for the kettle, and he twists around, "Really? Alright. Tha's a big job, considerin' that Princess Diana an' the fishies of Atlantis are lookin' to do the same. Not sure how well we'd do in a fight, but I think it's something worth knowing."

The tea is poured, and the kettle is reset. Another sip is taken and he comes around to the table once more, just closing the distance between the two scientists. "Darcy, then." He acknowledges 'Fitz' with a nod before he continues, his tones genuine, "I'd rather you than some droolin', guns blazing agent. So, not so idiotic t'me. In fact, it's a kindness to us both tha' I'll get to work with someone with a concept of what things are really like."

As for teaching, Fitz exhales in a sigh and leans on that same table, the teacup cradled in two hands for the moment. "It's not that. An' I'm sure I could get the job. It's just.. contractually not allowed to moonlight like that. Can't even really publish, because.. how can I?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Second tea, it's like second breakfast," she wryly jokes. Very few people get her flavour of snarky humour. At least she amuses herself. "SWORD has a spaceship now. It's very nice. Very small though. It got shot up by chunks of sentient space acid. I think all of that might be classified, so, you know, you didn't hear it from me."

She parks her butt against the back of the holotable and watches him pour the tea out. "I figure SWORD needs an office in there with access to the security cameras so that they can radio home if something weird is going on. We have The Spire in orbit so we'll see the ships coming in any way - unless they're cloaked somehow. But I think the idea is to confirm that ship come, ship land where it's supposed to, little grey men come out all friendly like. That sort of thing."

The coffee is sipped and she listens to his desire to teach. "You know my thesis is, like, ninety percent redacted by SHIELD though right? Still, could be worse. Jane's thesis is at least ninety eight percent redacted. So you can totally publish if you want all the people at conferences to go 'ooh ahh she works for SWORD'... or something."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
"An' elevenses," Fitz responds; it's almost genetic for him and his 'kind'. The smart kids always left to their own devices invariably find Tolkien... not saying that the Scot feels a kind of kinship with the hobbits. Nope.

The fact that SWORD has a spaceship does gain his attention, and his head quirks, the flitter of emotions moving quickly past. Curiosity runs rampant, coupled with a bit of pique that he hadn't been involved. But, truth be told, there are so many projects that he is involved with that not many outside his immediate circle know about that who has the time?

Fitz always has time for spaceships, though.

"I heard nothing. I'll come by it naturally," which means they both know he can rig a discovery, now that he's aware.

"The spaceport, I think, is a central meeting, or is supposed to be. We'll see. We are goin' to have a place there, should the Director okay it." Nothing gets done without Fury's okay. Nothing. "Once that's in place, I'll start movin' things over, an' taking inventory."

The tea is finally sipped, that second cup, and he wanders away from the side of his table once more, "If your thesis was redacted an' they still gave you your degree, it was something indeed," is made as a total compliment. "I don't think I'm meant t'be 'out there', an' it's fine. I think I've come t'terms with it. I mean, we do get to work with the world's biggest an' best things, after all."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy grins a moment, "Of course there's a word for second tea. This is why America will always be behind Britain in words. We don't have a word for second and third coffee. Yet. We should. We're good at stealing good ideas." She sips at her black ambrosia.

"Move things over? ... you're going to work _from_ the space port?," she looks really surprised by this. How very 'hands on' of him. "I'm imagining some tiny room with blinking lights and a guy wearing a suit with a tie and his shirt all disheveled. A half eaten donut to the side as he listens to comms chatter urgently like his life depends on it."

She pauses a moment for the vision to sink in, "But really he's just this agent who annoyed Director Brand and got stuffed in to the spaceport far away from her so she doesn't have to think about him. Yet, he diligently does his pointless job. A job computers could do."

"And, like, when he comes out for breaks all the SHIELD agents in the nice big lit office space look on and think.. that poor SWORD sod, he has the worst job of all." She nods her head in agreement with herself. She suddenly gets dead set serious though,

"But just in case that poor sod is me I think we should integrate the SWORD and SHIELD operations area." She glances to the door, "Just in case."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
"Y'should. You all drink enough of it."

The tea is finished, finally, and his cup is set back with his kettle set-up, properly rinsed and set aside to dry. Once completed, Fitz is only a couple of steps away from his table, and he's returned, finally reaching for his moon rock to store it properly once more.

"Yes, move things over," is given over his shoulder. "I can work from more than one lab, after all. I have this one," that has everything an physicist/engineer could want, "the one on the Bus," can't forget about that one, "an' I used to have one at the Playground. So, could take the things that had been there an' move them over." He smiles quickly, "I am very hands on. My work, that is."

The rock, once in hand, is wave/weighed quickly and walking it back to a storage container, he sets the keycode and sets it in, carefully before closing it up again. Nice and secure.

"An'," the smile shifts to something a little more lopsided, "we all have been that agent at least once in our lives." Even he.

"So.." his manner brightens, the word a soft burr, just in case anyone forgot he is most decidedly a Scot, "We should. Just in case that becomes our lot." Again. "At least then we'll have somethin' to work with instead of cast-offs from field agents who remember there are actually scientist behind their toys."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
It must be the uncanny sense of the British to know when there is tea about. Though, Jemma does arrive just a bit late. However, it seems that it doesn't matter too much, for she makes an appearance in the lab...holding her own cup. Well, sealed thermos, at least. And...the scent from the spill-proof container is most definitely tea. So, the visit is more work than not. With a tablet in the other hand, it would seem that Jemma is coming from a meeting.

Or...maybe hiding from one.

"If anyone is looking for me, please do tell them that I am otherwise indisposed." This...is said to no one in particular. However, when Jemma looks up, a sheepish smile plays over her features. "Well...hello, Fitz. And Doctor Lewis, as well! A pleasure to see you." Jemma just slides into her personal lab, as if she is always there, though certainly less often than she would like. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I merely ducked in to check on results of some experiments I am running. It is amazing how quickly people forget that I am a scientist as much as, if not more, than an agent."

Jemma waves away her minor commentary with a flitter of a hand. "But please! Forgive me. I will be out in just a few moments."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy taps the side of her nose as Fitz agrees with her philosophy on the nature of the spaceport SHIELD/SWORD posting. Eventually, one of them might get stuck there - it's statistically probable. So why not make it comfortable. "May be we could do a whole bunch of glass panels, like the bridge of the JJ Abrams Enterprise. Nice swivel chairs. Big fancy flat screen monitors. One of them can have a map of the world. No other reason than to look important in case we have visitors."

She pauses her fantasy when Jemma walks in and her eyes shoot back and forth between Fitz and Simmons, Simmons and Fitz. FitzSimmons. Now it all makes sense. "Wait. What is this. What is happening right now. This is too cute and adorable for words."

She stands up straight. British accent and Scottish accent combined is too powerful for slouching. "I love it. This. This whole thing," she says motioning to the paired labs and says, "Is it true you dissect aliens next to his lunch?" Because that totally came up in conversation already.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
"Speaking of," Fitz grouses good naturedly as Jemma arrives, ready to swoop past and hide in her own lab. "I don't want anyone walkin' into the lab there," he responds to that other bit of conversation easily, "I can't be savin' the world again if people keep interrupting me." Or putting time limits on solving problems!

When Jemma is truly in the room, there's a shift in Fitz' manner and mien; his posture changes a little bit, and blue eyes tend to watch her just a little bit more. "You know, Jemma, that your lab isn't a good place to hide. It'll be the first place they look." Maybe it's a touch of teasing in that thick accent of his, but there's purpose there, too. "But, on the other side, I'm sure it misses you." Is that a hint of jealousy that the 'other half' of FitzSimmons is seeing more field work currently than he is? Perhaps.

Darcy's words creep through his consciousness, and his back rises slightly, those brows too. "What?" It's natural to him, working with Jemma. "How is this-"

The reminder of the dissected animal near his food brings a chuff, and he glances back and forth from Jemma to Darcy, and back. "Yes."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
A blink, then silence. Yes, Jemma wasn't quite expecting the rehash of the liver incident. With a roll of the eyes, Jemma turns to Darcy. "It is most decidedly not true!" Then, with a pause, Jemma adds. "It wasn't an alien. It was a cat. And it was important at the time." The brown eyes shift over towards Leo, as Jemma just shakes her head. "That was so long ago. Really, now, Fitz...I haven't done that in ages. You really must get over that. Obsessing over it is not good for your health, you know."

Then, Jemma flips topics. "And yes, while it is true that the laboratory may be the first place to come to mind, it is also the last place they will actually come to. For some apparent reason, I frighten others when in the vicinity of dangerous biological compounds. I cannot possibly understand why." That last sentence was said with a sidelong glance towards Darcy....and was there a hint of a smile?? Yes, Jemma knows full well. If the liver incident is any indication...

"Honestly, though. I did say I was sorry about the autopsy, Fitz. I can only apologize so much for such a trivial thing." Trivial? Perhaps to the medical doctor.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy's head turns back and forth as their conversation evolves. "I love this. I never knew how much I needed this in my life but now that I've seen it, I can't unsee it and I wouldn't even if I could." She's holding the coffee close to her mouth, both hands on it, sipping it like she's watching a day time drama on television.

"I've completely forgotten whatever it was we were talking about. Hang on, I need to text Jane and tell her how amazing this is." She's being snarky.. yet.. her hand leaves the coffee and goes for the phone % Jane omg FitzSimmons is the greatest thing ever how have I never seen this before % ... she's not even looking at her screen when she does it, her eyes peeled on the duo.

"Oh and you can call me Darcy, Dr. Simmons. I don't expect I'll be around the Triskelion that much but you can count on me coming back to this lab _every_ time from now on." She nods with all seriousness.. the pair clearly don't know how adorable they are bickering about ancient liver dissections.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
"At the time, not more important than my lunch," Fitz mumbles and he turns away, before turning back once more. "An' it wasn't me that brought it up. Apparently it has become the stuff of legends. It has taken on a life of it's own." Sort of like the bacteria that was undoubtedly on that liver.

He shrugs and leans on the containment door, his hands finding their way into pockets. Brows rise again, before they knit, and he glances at his lab-partner in question before, "What?" Perhaps it's a touch heavier in accent than even before, but he's honestly puzzled. "We work together. No different than anyone else, right?" He's back to looking at Darcy, then back to Jemma before he shakes his head quickly, "I dunno."

To change the subject and get it off the uncomfortable bit of 'them', he makes the attempt to be conversational, "Dr Lewis.. Darcy.. is goin' to be helpin' out with the spaceport. I'll be helpin' get her set up with her lab, as soon as the Director approves the assignment."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Now, that little bit of news gets a smile from Jemma. So much so that the audience of one is forgotten for just the moment. "Getting out of the Trisk and into space? How wonderful!" Because yes, Jemma has been trying to get Leo out of the lab more, just like he has been trying to keep her in the lab more. With varying results. "I imagine it would be an engineering challenge. One that speaks to your talents."

Oh, but there is another person in the room. And she told Jemma to call her Darcy. "Oh! Well, Darcy, please feel free to call me Jemma, then." A smile is given just for Darcy. "Fitz is just the right person for the spaceport, too. I am sure he has some designs in the back of his head just waiting to be used for the spaceport." Pumping Leo up is Jemma's job, of course. One she does without complaint. She really does seem to believe what she says.

And then...finally...Jemma seems to acknowledge the partnership. And...in typical fashion, totally flies right by whatever magic Darcy might be seeing. "We're best friends. Well...after a little competition at the Academy. But, really...just friends who work rather well together. Isn't that right, Fitz?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy furrows her eyebrows. She has said too much. The magic might get broken if she interferes. "Oh yes totally, this is completely a normal way for two scientists to interact." She hides her face behind the coffee briefly as she can't resist smiling.

"Wait.. is the spaceport in space or on the ground?," she asks. A very important question she never thought to ask when she was told to go liaise as SWORD's representative. Space is a very cold place. There's no kind of atmosphere. This important piece of information dictates if she's packing thermals or swimmers.

"Astrophysics is very different to engineering and biochemistry. Mostly I just annoyed Jane while she ignored me and ran off to have smoochy dates with a god from Asgard..." And then there's Professor Selvig of course. The crazy uncle who just happens to have been right; and Jane who was even more right. Still, neither of them have navigated Earth's first fast-than-light spaceship. Not that their classified mission will ever be in the history books.

"Since it's an international operation I propose Fitz invent a new kind of machine that can produce both tea and coffee all in a single unit. Good coffee too. It'll be important for morale."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
"On the ground. The Atlanteans are the ones that are workin' with the base of the thing. Under water." The last bit is added, in case there was any question. Of course, he had referred to them as 'wee fishies' earlier, so their naming is progress with the engineer. He smiles at Jemma's exclamation, the expression turning slightly self-conscious as he returns, "Not so sure about that one, goin' into space. What happens if.. something happens?" He'll be fine, certainly. "I might look at it," is conceded. "For a little bit."

That 'little bit' would obviously turn into days of no sleep.

Fitz makes his wander back to stand a little closer to his lab-partner of years, hands still in pockets. He looks beside her and nods quickly, his attention moving back to Darcy, seconding Jemma's words even as she says them, "Best friends, s'what I said. Lab partners. I did tell her where there is one, usually there's the other." They work that well together, and the projects they have collaborated on are things of legend (to some).

A half-turn is taken, and there's that realization that has set upon the baby-faced engineer/physicist. "You're lookin' into it too, right? Tell me you are. Because if you aren't.."

This is totally and completely normal. Absolutely.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy notices the sudden silence when Fitz asks Jemma if she's going to be working on the spaceport too. There's just enough awkward silence that she knows this is something the two of them need to sort out between them - either it's a no, or it's a 'Director can I also be on this too please'.

She snaps her fingers to break the awkward silence, "Oh the fish people. I thought you were talking about people from Atlanta. Duh," she rolls her eyes. "And space isn't so bad. When you're in a space suit or a space ship any way. I could pull some strings if you want to do some zero-g training. That goes for both of you... but, hey, i'm going to go now. I think I've done enough liaising for now. I have to go find Jane and make her buy me lunch."

A small coy little smile, "It was awesome to meet you FitzSimmons." With a turn she makes her way out of the lab so the duo can discuss whether Jemma is part of the spaceport project or not.