18525/Inner Space and Outer Space

Inner Space and Outer Space
Date of Scene:	07 July 2024
Location:	102 20th St - Jessica Drew's Building
Synopsis:	Michael and Jess take work home. Watch out HYDRA
Cast of Characters:	Jessica Drew, Michael Erickson

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Jessica Drew has posed:
Open windows, fans, and cross-breezes just don't make it when the asphalt is melting in the heat and the sidewalks seem hot enough to fry eggs. Jess blesses the new A/C and not for the first time considers leaving the City because of the sweltering summer heat. A pitcher of that American invention iced tea sweats on the kitchen island dividing her neat galley kitchen from the living room. Next to it, she has laid out a spread of delectables from local Italian and Jewish delicatessens for her guest. Neither of them keep kosher.

"I want you to know that very few of my work colleagues have visited me here. Next time, we do something outside of work let's go some place cool outside the city. Do you like the beach?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Whatever would be kosher for a Shi'ar? Don't eat food not from an Imperial planet? Always make sure you don't conquer planets on the Sabbath? He's certainly lapsed from his home culture's mores. And so, in voluntary exile he enjoys the roasting heat -- his people being much happier in those hot climes than the average human -- sunning himself like a serpent in the sun that streams in across the sofa, eyes closed and content.

    Then, Jessica's comment causes one eye to open a crack. "Why would you want me to know that," he asks, his tone light. "You should have more friends here. I can't be your whole life when off duty, eh? It isn't healthy for your species." He sits up then, opening both eyes and smiling at her. "The beach is nice. I rather like this heat quite a lot."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"You would," she makes a face. Ice clinks against a glass as Jess pours for Michael. "Was it incubator warm where you were born?" She sets out small plates for them to fill at leisure, then carries two glasses of tea to join him on the couch.

"I've never asked you what your preferred temperatures are. I assumed you shared the same general preferences that humans do." She pauses, "And, I go out with people from work, I just don't invite them home."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Creches tend to be warm, yes." He chuckles, looking down at himself -- wearing a fitted tank and a pair of jeans, he is quite comfortable baring combat scars and military tattoos openly. "We come from eggs, remember. Got to keep the children warm when they're born -- although we /are/ cold-blooded. Not just figuratively." He leans back in the sunbeam as he says this, eyes drifting closed again, the tea momentarily forgotten. "That's why I bundled up so ridiculously tight over the winter. I can't imagine why it never came up."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Nodding slowly, "I wondered. I didn't think you were /ridiculously/ bundled up. Just careful about getting cold." She grins suddenly, "I'm the one with cold feet and hands in the winter. I normally hate air-conditioning. I didn't grow up with it. One doesn't...well, didn't in Europe."

Frowning, "I simply forget we are so different. I'm sorry for that. You know you can adjust the temperature if it's too cold."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Another chuckle. "You're lucky that you're beautiful, with those freezing extremities." Grey eyes twinkle, polished stones set in his severe face. The smile does much to soften it, but ever it remains stern. "And no, thank you. I'm fine. The air conditioning is just fine, since I have..." A gesture to the sunbeam. "Besides. It's your domicile. I'm happy to be a good guest."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Her green eyes flash at his chuckle. "Ever the gentleman and flatterer." She unhooks her leg out from under her and rises to open the curtain wider with swift unconscious grace.

After settling back on the couch, "Next time we will go to the beach and I can bury you in the hot sand like a turtle egg." She picks up her glass and swirls the ice cubes gently before taking another sip. "I want to hear more about your plans for the ship. No listening devices here. I check nearly everyday, you know."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I might like that," he muses with a snort. Now, as the conversation changes, he crosses his arms behind his head, eyes still closed, settling in all the more against the couch cushions. "As for the ship...well, it can't support weapons, but that's really not important considering the sort of passengers it would ferry around. I want to get the shield generator and the plasma reactor's fuel pods back from HYDRA, destroy any research they might have on the technology, and return them to the ship. It will install the technology itself; you just have to return them to their respective bays. Lovely thing, really."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Weapons, weapons, who needs weapons?" Jess retorts with her best imitation of a local accent. "HYDRA doesn't need a shield generator or plasma reactor," she adds archly. "I want the go-ahead for relieving them of their burden, preferably sooner than later."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael's lips twist into a smirk. "Well Romanova gave us the go-ahead," he states with a flick of a hand. "I'm gathering intelligence from the analyst corps. Should be able to go by end of next week." Now his eyes open and he sits up, turning in his seat toward her. "Who would you recommend? You and I, certainly. Whom else?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess matches his posture, sitting straighter. She closes her eyes a moment before replying, "I'm going to have to check the roster. I know Romanova wants in on the action. Do you have satellite images of the site and maps of the area? I don't need to tell you we need to tailor the team to suit the terrain."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "She wants in on /all/ action," he points out with a chuckle. "And yes, I do. Let's sit down and meet on it on Monday, see what shakes out. Obviously I'm fine as I can fly in the armor. We'll need to plan a proper approach for you and Romanova. Although, obviously, I could just carry you two." And here again his eyes sparkle. "Fancy wearing a harness? Like those toddler rigs you see on the children uptown."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Now, Michael. Don't go all Dom on me now." She flutters her long lashes innocently.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    That gets a snort. "I said /uptown/, Drew, not The Village." Nevermind there haven't been people wandering around Greenwich in harnesses lately - at least not enough for that joke to have as much weight. "I've been thinking about how to get land-bound agents around during a strike situation. Flying over and dropping you in via parachute. Or drop-packs. Do they have drop packs? Jet- or anti-gravity descender units, I mean?" And now he's going into Space Warfare Terminology, heaven help her. "They'd be incredibly useful. Or just flight packs in general. Surely SHIELD has something similar."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Her green eyes close, and she takes a long exaggerated breath through her nose, ignoring the bad joke, "Anti-gravity descender units? In your and Luc Besson's dreams. Get your hands on that technology to sell and we can buy a small island and retire to it. I will be your kept woman."

Jess glances at him expectantly, then looks crest-fallen, "You mean you don't have it? Aw, I got excited for a moment. I'm sure we have jet packs from space walks and such. Otherwise, we could steal that technology from some unsuspecting planet maybe? Or...would that be unethical? Subborning the natural progression of technology on Earth and all."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I have it in the suit," Michael points out with a chuckle, reaching now finally for his own glass of tea, "But that's all. Antigravitics aren't necessary - in fact it would likely be a bad idea even if we had access to the technology - but it would do well to have some sort of jetpack that's usable in the field that won't smart too much to lose should an assignment go south." A beat. "Or something that the likes of HYDRA wouldn't have too much of advantage should they get their hands on."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica's mouth pulls down at the corners, "Now, you have gone from the black of space to being a pessimist." She crosses her arms and looks at him fixedly. "What are you contemplating that would have such a low success rate?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael shakes his heat at her words, now, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a long sip. "It's not a matter of a low success rate," he says, putting the glass back down upon the coffee table. "It's just a matter of eventualities. Eventually you'll have to drop that pack in order to fight unencumbered once you're at the engagement area. Or eventually someone's going to get a lucky shot in and disable the unit. During the conquest action on Jatuur, where I spent my compulsive military training before moving on to my /real/ career, my unit and I would drop in behind enemy lines using flight packs and perform sabotage, assassinations, all that sort of grubby business. We'd always lose equipment thanks to that. We're doing the same sort of thing, eh? At least in terms of insertion, if not the same sort of duty."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"You are being a realist and planning for the worst outcomes - the sign of a successful commander." Her eyes grow distant as she contemplates the upcoming missions, "First, HYDRA for the missing pieces, and then?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Well, I had to learn /something/ in Space Fascist School." He gives her a grim smile, then reaches for his tea again. "We collect the hardware, then we investigate this...situation that Romanov talked about. I may go and speak to this G.I.R.L. collective about those packs, but in the meantime I imagine I'll either just drop you in or we'll take a Quinjet. Not exactly the stealthiest approach, but then again..."

    He shrugs, then, and takes another swig of his tea. Makes a faint face. "I don't understand why they put so much /sugar/ in this down in the southern provi--in the southern states." Michael takes another sip, swishing it in his mouth, and swallows. "Anyway. That's my idea. I've gotten almost all that I need from the analysts to assemble the necessary plan."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"You mock my tea? Next time, I can pull back on the sugar and won't buy it from a shop. I like the lemon though. They make it fresh at the deli down the street." She takes another sip of tea and sets it back on the table.

"Well, I leave it to you to get us rolling. I want you to take me on a Space Cruise." Her face lights up, "Do you know that song? Sea Cruise? It's a little before your time here."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He gives her a faint wrinkling of the nose in response. "I don't mean yours, yours is fine - I was just reflecting on some of the stuff I'd had in the day. As for the song...I do, actually. I had a client in '79 that would listen to it constantly on his yacht." A faint look of preening poise falls over his expression as he then smirks. "Well, I've a much better yacht than he ever did now, don't I? And ever so much nicer a sailing companion." A wink, then, and he drains his glass. "Right. I need to get back to the office if I'm going to get that all wrapped up." Michael leans over to kiss her temple lightly, then, and smiles as he readies to go. "Wait up for me, won't you, halan? I'll be back before midnight."