9805/Well, It's All Done Now

Well, It's All Done Now
Date of Scene:	24 January 2022
Location:	Erickson's place, Murray Hill
Synopsis:	Musing on a neighborhood empty of angels in the middle of an invasion, newly-minted SHIELD agent Michael discusses the future with Jessica.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Jessica Drew

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    There are no angels anywhere near Murray Hill. They won't patrol here. A whole neighborhood, and Grand Central Station at its northern border, completely free of angels. SHIELD's come in, too, which is why, in a quiet building in the middle of Murray Hill, Michael Erickson can wake up next to his girlfriend, get out of bed, and go to the window with a clear view of the area, knowing that no heavenly creature out there will louse it up. His city, damn it. He's a New Yorker too, now. So he stands by a window, coffee mug in hand, in his underwear. Watching streets that are empty of heavenly parasites.

    Bastards.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica sleeps peacefully, dark hair strewn across the pillow, head turned to the side, unaware of Michael looking out into the abnormally quiet streets. They had talked on the way back from New Jersey about what route to take into the City.  Impressed by what he had done, Jessica agreed that returning to her neighborhood on the river, Chelsea, might be dangerous so she had slept dreaming of hot mud bathes and gleeful battles in its slick warmth without worrying about winged intruders.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    It's a nice place, Michael's flat. Very nice. Been paying it off since the Eighties, so it better be. Still...not very human, with its lack of art, or color. But he's gotten some plants, which is nice. It's his castle. Maybe that's another reason why he did what he did. Birds of prey can be territorial. Out there, of course, where you can't see them, a sea of monowire, plasma bombs, thermite fountains and plastique. Arranged at heights to annihilate flying angels, to take the heads off the tall infantry. All of that. Vicious, vicious measures all in flagrant violation of the Geneva Convention. Which Michael does not care about, of course. Nor, he imagines, does the angel for whom his earthly persona is named. Humans are ruthless but the Shi'ar have made it into an art when they need to be so.

    He looks from the window, then, to the artful, modern table in the kitchen. Where the paperwork is, signed in triplicate. His badge. Lanyard. His face in black and white, staring back at him through a few milimeters of plastic lamination. 'RECRUIT'. He hasn't been a recruit for fifty-seven years. And yet here he is again. It's all done now.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The woman agent had picked the badge up from the table and smiled as she flashed it at him last night.

"Who would have thought? Certainly not Danvers from the way she was showing her butt at the bar and I don't mean literally either."

Replacing it, she mused aloud, "Just as long as you are okay with being just a recruit. Likely it won't last long, once SCAR is up and running."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Yes, well," he'd said. "I was a captain already, and an agent with authority. About time things came full circle for me I suppose."

    Now he gets up, crosses into the bedroom. Sees her there, sleeping. Peacefully. He made that happen, and there's no small amount of pleasure that he feels with tht. More than just saving people, or protecting the world. Just her. He put on his fatigues, then, taking a moment to glance out the window again. In the kitchen there's a compact particle pulse rifle, and a brace of plasma grenades. His armor waits in the void, just in case it's needed. He sighs again, watching as she lies there in the dark, and goes out to make breakfast. Power's out, so it's bacon fried on a small camp stove. Clean, flameless technology. Straight from his old hump pack. The scent of cooking meat curls through the air.

Jessica Drew has posed:
They had made love and Jessica had fallen asleep wrapped in his arms, his higher body temperature keeping her warm in the cold apartment. Safe in the knowledge that anything daring to cross his protective barriers would meet their maker.

She dreams of mud that smells oddly like food, and opens her eyes to the apartment redolent of cooking bacon. Stretching luxuriously, she stays under the covers, enjoying the contrast of warm bed with the cold room, then is up and heads for the bathroom, grabbing her clothes on the way.

Washed and dressed in several layers, Jess joins Michael in the kitchen where he is cooking.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    There is no mud there is only bacon. And toasted bread. And cheese. And wine. And filtered water -- there's a real pattern here, you know. It's like camping, but in his own house. Not that it seems to slow him down. So he sits there, drinks coffee he brewed in the Chemex he bought after seeing how well hers worked, and pours her a cup as well once he hears her clomping around in the apartment. At least there's still hot water.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess is smiling as she is lured into the next room by the smell of food and coffee. "Look at you! This smells amazing, halan. Mmmmmm, coffee and good coffee and toast!" She sits contentedly across the table from him, buttering her bread and heaping her plate with cheese and bacon. Calorie counting not being an issue with her spider metabolism.

After biting into the crunchy toast, "Wait. How do you have hot water? I mean, I didn't expect to take a shower this morning and the bathroom was nippy until I realized I could take a hot shower."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I spliced a power cell into the apartment grid." He waves about with a fork which he has yet to use against the cooked bacon. "Can't use it to power the apartment, but I can at least power the water heater." Lifts the mug to sip. "Knew you'd want to have a hot shower."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Well, he is good with his hands," she tells her toast happily. "I think I will keep him. You make good coffee, too."

"Tell me more about what you were saying last night about Tannhauser. Who we? Dottie and I? You and Dottie and I? Are we flying in commercially or taking a Quinjet?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Quinjet, if it can be spared," he replies. "Me, you, Dottie, possibly Angelo. And Jane's interested in oversight, apparently. Lots of people to steal a truck, I know, but I rather imagine the trouble will come in the extraction."

Jessica Drew has posed:
She fuels up on more coffee and toast before commenting, "If Tannhauser has kept their standards high. I don't think it will be as straightforward as driving the truck into the back of the Quinjet and hauling ass. No. Where do you suspect it will be trouble? If I was them, I'd have some heavy overwatch on the truck, satellite or helicopters."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I'll want to inspect what information that SHIELD has on the group as well," he says with a nod of agreement. "Gather the rest - which reminds me. I..." Michael pauses to take a sip of his coffee, looking to her. Reaches for a piece of bacon. "I've decided that, now that I'm an intelligence agent for this planet, that I will share my files with the organization."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica doesn't respond immediately, instead watching him over the rim of her coffee cup a long moment before setting it down. Fixing him with an intent look, "Are you sure, halan? I know it's not just like that. You've been mulling this over for a while, I suppose.

After a pause, "What an enormous step!You are going to keep a lot of agents busy verifying the information, everyone in this business takes intelligence like you'll be handing over with a grain of salt."

She holds up a hand. "Don't think for a minute that I'm impugning your work. I wonder if they will realize how this is the final step to you becoming a real citizen of our world and the United States?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I'm aware of the protocol," he agrees with a nod. "I don't expect to roll into things with a parade - and yes, as you say. But I am reminded, you know, of the explorer. Cortes." He takes another sip from the mug, looking out the glass sliding door to the balcony. "When he arrived in the New World, he had his ships burned to motivate his men. So do I motivate myself. Besides..." A smile lines his lips as he looks at her from over the rim of his mug. "The native company has been most persuasive."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Smiling and shaking her head, she returns his gaze. "Really now. Cortes burned his ship's for the love of an Aztec princess did he? Was it to motivate his men or keep them from taking all the ships back to Cuba? Think how that decision changed the history of the world. And I wonder what the worth of burning ten ships would be in modern terms? Billions of dollars, most likely.

She puts her cup down, saying, "More seriously. If you're ready I will message the Chief and tell her your plans.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He nods. "I've already prepared the materials. Hardcopy and electronic, formats that are compatible with your systems. No holography, I'm afraid, but if there's a way to transfer such records into a SHIELD-compatible format then I'll share those, too." A pause. He squints at her. "They'll be suspicious. I know that. Understand, I'm doing this for humanity, not for SHIELD. Your people deserve this."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Not everyone will trust the purity of your motives. I do. Thank you, Cal'hatar."

A sudden smile lights her face. "Can't you see the Chief's face? Here they come again! Can you show us the holographs? We might be able to copy them somehow to preserve the data. Fitz and company might have fun figuring that out, don't you think?

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I haven't met 'Fitz'," Michael points out. "But your technical corps is puissant. I'm certain they can analyze holographic crystal wafers and translate the data." He demures, now. Quiet. "Pehaps you should speak to the Chief yourself this time."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Lips pressed into an unhappy line, Jessica nods slowly, "It's...well. You have taken us both by surprise a few times, halan. It hasn't always been easy for either of us. Likely, she will want to talk to you about it but I will go first, if you are alright with it. I /understand/ how important this is to you or hope I do. Is everything ready then?

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Microdots and data sticks are ready when - if - she wants them," he agrees with a nod. "And as for the rest..." Michael purses his lips faintly, tears a bite of bacon off and chews thoughtfully. "I won't make the same mistake again."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Don't fuss yourself over it, if you can," she offers softly. "I can't imagine how many gaffs I would make if I were in another culture, much less another planet. The Chief is canny and only wants the best for us. Give her and yourself time."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "It's easier when you're filling a role." He flashes her a tight smile. "I'll just have to do a little more acting, for the moment. Until I'm in a better position to interact with people. And now..." Michael gets to his feet. "I'm going to take a shower. Be out later, halan. Don't worry, this is all for the good."

Jessica Drew has posed:
She grabs his hand as he walks by her toward the bedroom and kisses the back of it. "You'll be fine."