10844/Oh, behave!

Oh, behave!
Date of Scene:	21 April 2022
Location:	Operations: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Grant and Jane have a quick rendez-vous.
Cast of Characters:	Grant Ward, Jane Foster

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Grant Ward has posed:
The Triskel is full of good, happy, loyal, SHIELD members today. One of which is Special Agent Grant Ward. Ward looks like he's coming back from an op. He is taking off his gear as he walks along, grumbling to an agent that follows in his wake, looking rather peeved at what he's just been through. "You'd think, Agent Nelson, that you'd look at a map BEFORE the mission, so you'd have some clue as to where the rendezvous was. Why was it, I had to spend twenty minutes waiting for pickup?" Agent Nelson, for his part, looks harried, and quite ashamed of his performance, and mutters, "It won't happen again sir." "It better not, now get out of here," Ward barks. He is in a mood. And it's not a good one.

Jane Foster has posed:
Good, happy, loyal agents and public servants abound. Not everyone in the Triskelion is a spy, after all. Jane Foster? Please, she's not a spy at all. The notion she could conduct any sort of clandestine operation that doesn't involve a space-bound telescope or a lot of algorithms is pretty well a certainty, though she is, in fact, an agent of some seniority. Who made that happen?

She comes in, a damp coat around her shoulders and her rather business-smart attire very different from lots of SHIELD coats or actual SHIELD uniforms. The lady of WAND and SWORD-like matters carries a bag under her arm, looking utterly tired. The tablet that normally would be used for such affairs as reporting in proves to be a technical issue to relay to someone who isn't her. She hands over the device with a sigh to the waiting gofer and promptly drops into a chair that will allow her to do it the old fashioned way, through paper and pen. At least those work.

Enter the storm of Grant Ward, her gaze flicking over dividers to mark the man's position. Hot desking means sitting up in a somewhat more common area. Twenty minutes waiting for pickup; ouch.

"Best not be an UberEats driver, mm?" Dry quip here.

Grant Ward has posed:
For a long moment Grant considers how to reply. SWORD and WAND people are different. A regular agent he can get to do what he wants with yelling and intimidation. He doesn't quite know what exactly WAND and SWORD get up to. But it seems...super natural. "Agent Nelson's heart is in the right place, he's just....new. And, wasn't as properly prepared as he could be," is the diplomatic answer he finally settles on. The rage seems to have passed, and now he smiles to Jane, glancing over her, "Wet out?" he asks, noting some dampness still on her.

He holds out a hand, "Special Agent Ward, Grant Ward," he says by way of introduction. "And you are?"

Jane Foster has posed:
WAND is well enough known as the little unit that goes out on really odd missions. SWORD basically means 'Carol Danvers and her big budget.' Captain Marvel things, they're high and away beyond what run of the mill Russian super-assassins get up to, right?

"He'll learn. The opportunities to improve fortunately present themselves with wonderful regularity around here. And if not, there's six weeks of practice on the range," Jane notes dryly. SHIELD makes no secret of the regimens they're all expected to follow, brunette Nobel winners among them. The crunch of time proves a grim reminder. "I ought to log more time in the weight room before someone needs to remind me." Bookmark that thought while Grant elevates the idea, and she nods somewhat smartly to him. "No, mot wet at all. Just a portion of Central Park bombarded by interdimensional cold sources." The sheaf of papers gets a tap. "AAR for later today, I'm afraid, Agent Ward."

She extends her right hand, fingers calloused lightly and slim. "Doctor Jane Foster." Yes, /that/ Jane Fos-thor. May the jokes begin. "Scientific consulting and space stuff, generally. Please to make your acquaintance."

Grant Ward has posed:
He was probably already aware of who she was -- it's not like Ward to miss things like this -- but, still, the formal introduction gets a bit of a surprised whistle from the man. "Well. It is a...honor? Pleasure? What's the form for a Nobel winner in this sort of situation? Do I call you Doctor, or Agent?" He holds her hand firmly in his grip, giving it a squeeze, before he lets it go. Testing strength? Perhaps. Or, just Ward being Ward.

"See, that sort of stuff...I get it, it's amazing, and scientifically cool and all that but...give me three or four weeks in the woods tracking someone. Or drop me into a city and let me infiltrate a group. Or...something more /real/ to me y'know? That's the fun of a place like this." He then looks the woman over, and adds, "Though, if you need a spotter for some lifting, I'd be more than happy to assist." Is he flirting? Or just being professional? Hard to tell.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Honour? That's a bit overstated considering our coworkers." Jane inclines her head slightly, a gesture subtle other than for her braid slipping off her damp coat. It's slightly wet too, but mostly intact. "Not to mention Captain Rogers in the building. Nothing I've contributed quite matches the day to day demands of people in the field, asked to put their lives at risk." For congress and country? Doesn't ring nearly so well as Queen and Country, but wrong land, wrong series. "Doctor Foster is more than sufficient. Or 'duck.' That's a popular one for those of us attached to the scientific wing."

Her blithe manner of handling that is a bit different from the warmth of the skin, the handshake given pretty easily. Nothing unusual there, not without some serious mojo to recognize the oddity. "Three weeks of off-grid camping beats three weeks of waiting on results from Jovian orbit, and /then/ six weeks for Matlab to process said results. Trust me, the motto of astrophysics is probably make haste slowly. There's a lack of reality in staring down elaborate data points and sequenced numbers on a page compared to rescuing someone from deep behind enemy lines."

Grant Ward has posed:
"If you ever end up deep behind enemy lines, in need of rescue, I'll be sure to be the first to get there." Ward replies with a wink. Flirting? Probably? And then he is back to being Ward the stone faced, "And, yeah. I guess it's just the way I'm wired. I don't have patience for any of that. I'm sure the movement of some moons out around Jove is great, but, why bother? What do you get from that that's...helpful for what's going on here? What do you gain from it? I capture someone, I can get intel out of them, I can use that to then further stop the bad guys from doing something that hurts my friends. I watch the moon for a night...it's pretty but..." He shrugs and tilts his head a bit, "Doesn't really help me much, what with werewolves not being real and all."

Jane Foster has posed:
"I don't know how often I'll end up there. I make a point of avoiding imminent danger if possible. Squishy, naturally." That's one way to distinguish herself, though Jane's depreciating tone has its own light humour therein. Grant's a stone-faced fox and she gets to be the funny one. "As long as you know what you enjoy. I'm sure you will find plenty of missions grateful for the talents and abilities the rest of us don't cultivate quite so often."

Her gaze lifts from the paper accusing her by being so darned blank. No, she can fill that out later. "Depending on the reason, the scientific knowledge becomes useful. Deciphering weird or unfamiliar technologies, as a start. Intelligence has deep value as well. The Moon has different significance in your work, not the least of which is poor stealth under a full moon and a glaring lack of good shadows to hide in. Also higher rates of violence in general." Medical facts, fun.

Grant Ward has posed:
"People are more violent during a full moon? That's a fact?" Grant asks, this seems quite surprising to him.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane nods as she pens in some basic information onto the AAR form. It's not particularly onerous to declare location, time, and the essentials. "They do. The incidence of violent crimes actually increases around a full moon. Emergency doctors can confirm that, as you have a spike in staffing needs. Nurses, triage, paramedics, sitters, security. It's a notable thing not only in the US, but elsewhere. People's blood really must get up in some way. It's not like we culturally all sit on our problems until the moon is full. More babies are born then too, though, so lunar influences are subtle. If we had no moon, life wouldn't look very good. We've evolved alongside that great big rock in the sky."

Another slithering line of ink resolves itself, neat and precise.

Grant Ward has posed:
Grant Ward huhs quietly. "I had not heard that before. But, obviously our moon has some influence on the planet. Tides, how it makes it easier for me to hunt people at night, that sort of thing. But I hadn't realized it caused spikes in violence. Or birth rate." He finishes getting off his kevlar -- he was getting off his kevlar -- and then stands, "That's fascinating though. I will have to look into that..." He then stops a few feet away and says, "Nice to meet you Doctor Foster."