[ Some other day. Will they have one of those? They shouldn't, that's risking too much with the timeline, what if she let something slip and changed the course of his future? He has to stay on this path, go on to be one of the legendary first agents of SHIELD and inspire future generations to be just as great.
But... what if this is it for her? What if her team can't come back for her? Forward is easy, she remembers, but going backward is near impossible under their present circumstances. So what if this is her life now, New York in the 1940s when everyone is still picking themselves up after the war? What does that leave for her, the hacker living in a time before computers even exist, the Inhuman who can't let anyone find out what she is?
Best not to think about those things now, of course. She's got plenty of time to have an anxiety attack about her situation.
Smiling at Sousa's display of chivalry (and how weird is that?), she steps into the restaurant. It's cozy and not the least bit pretentious or stuffy — it's comfortable without being too casual. A good place for a first date. (Not that this is a date.) An employee is immediately there to greet them, the thick New York Italian blend accent brightening Daisy's smile as he the man shows them immediately to a booth. She takes note of the exits as she slides into her seat, always prepared just in case, and accepts the offered menu.
When the waiter has left to give them a few moments, she eyes her companion over the top of her menu. ] Not bad, Sousa.
[ All right, so honestly, they probably won't. He's still thinking this is all one great flash in the pan, and once they say their goodbyes when the night is over, he'll never see her again. And it's that thought that has him thinking he has to make this the most memorable night that he can. And along with that realization comes the thought that maybe quizzing her on her history and work experience wasn't the right move. But hey, she hasn't gone running for the hills just yet, so maybe he still has a chance.
If nothing else, he can at least try to leave her with a memorable impression so that when they do part ways, he becomes a fond memory of her time here.
The restaurant is one of his favorites, and an old standby at that. Sure, he doesn't often have someone willing to step out with him, but the times that he has, he brought them here. And while he's trying his best not to think of this as a date, the part of him that's being honest with himself is saying that that ship has sailed.
Once they're alone with the menus in front of them, he allows his eyes to travel up above the text on the menu so he can watch her. She's beautiful; there's no ignoring that. And aside from that, she just exudes class. The way she moves and carries herself reminds him a lot of one Peggy Carter, and that thought comes with the smallest of poignant stabs. Even though it's been some time since he crossed paths with Carter, he still remembers her fondly and what they could have had, if things had worked out.
But it's very bad form to be thinking about another woman when in the presence of an equally attractive woman, so he forces his attentions back to the page just in time to hear her say something. ]
Oh, yeah, this place is great. The people here are the best, and the food they make puts most other places around to shame.
[ He pauses for a second, because he knows he's beginning to ramble, but then he adds: ] Do you know what you'd like to order?
[ When was the last time she'd been on a date, anyway? Not with Lincoln, not in the traditional sense anyway. They'd had movie nights on the base, that sort of thing, but going out and being cute in front of other people in public? There hadn't been time for that. Inhumans were being hunted, Hydra and Hive happened, and then he was gone. Things with Ward never got that far (thank goodness). So then... Miles? Not even then, either, really. The two of them had been more likely to just fall into bed together while talking of how they were going to do such great things for the world. How naive she'd been.
So, okay. Maybe this could be a date. The first one she's had since figuring out who she is as a person. And a low-commitment one, at that — that whole not altering the timeline thing. The decision loosens a thread of tension within her and she relaxes a little more. A date. Yeah, she can do this.
Closing her menu, she sets it on the table between them and folds her hands in her lap. ] What do you recommend? I'll have that.
[ And she smiles at him, letting herself genuinely enjoy the moment. It's not hard; he's easy to be around. ]
[ Well, at least she can remember her last almost-dates. It's been awhile for Sousa, and while he can fondly remember times spent with Violet (so long ago now) and with Peggy (not as long ago, but not recent either), he hasn't had a real date in months. This is a nice change of pace, even if he feels as though he should refrain from calling it a date. ]
My tastes are pretty simple, you know: spaghetti and meatballs. Kind of hard to go wrong with that. I don't know you that well, but you kinda seem like you'd like something a little more, uh- Nuanced, I guess is the word.
The cannelloni's good, if you like that kind of thing. And uh, I don't know, are you a vegetables kind of girl? They've got some good salads, if- I mean, if you want to balance it out a little.
[ He's talking too much again, which is what he tends to do when he's nervous. But he's not nervous at all, is he? Absoultely not. Not one bit. ]
[ She likes hearing him talk. There's the impression under all of those slightly rambling words that he's nervous, and honestly? It just endears him to her even more. With every second that passes, she finds herself wanting another hundred. Already, she's dreading the end of the evening, when she'll have to face her situation and finally make a proper plan. (What is she going to do when she runs out of money? Where is she going to live? How will she survive without a computer?) But for now, she's enjoying every single moment of his company.
Maybe a little too much so, actually. She's letting her guard down without even noticing it, giving into her tendency to tease and banter and even flirt and...
Well. ]
Salad sounds good... But you know, I think I could use some comfort food tonight, it's been kind of a rough day. So I'll go with spaghetti and meatballs as well. [ Her smile turns a bit playful as she looks around the cozy restaurant. ] I do enjoy a good cannelloni, but I can save that for the second date.
[ It takes a second before what she's said catches up with her brain and then she freezes, her gaze stuck on a display of wine bottles at the side of the room. Oh shit. She did not just say that. She did not just say— ]
[ He is nervous, and the funny thing is, he's not really sure why. He's talked to women before, and he never stumbled over his words as much as he has during this conversation. But willing himself to relax only makes him feel even more tense, so he just tries to stop thinking and let this play out however it will. ]
Excellent. You won't be disappointed, I promise.
[ And then as if on cue, the waiter appears, and Daniel gives him their order. He's about to ask her if she'd like something to drink, but then she mentions a second date, and without warning, Daniel's neck flushes a bright red, and that redness starts creeping further up his neck and above his collar.
But he wills himself to stay as calm as he can, and he manages to say: ]
Huh, I must be making a better impression than I thought if you're already looking forward to a second date.
[ He even manages the calmest, completely unflustered smile that he can, under these circumstances. ]
[ It is with a great deal of effort that she manages to very calmly turn back to face him, and while she does take note of that really nice smile and the flush coloring his neck, neither does anything to calm her own nerves. If anything, they're made even worse by just how good he looks and how smoothly he takes what she's said.
How could she have let herself say that? Johnson, what the hell is wrong with you? ]
Well, I didn't mean— [ Now she's the one stumbling over her words and feeling flustered. She never feels flustered! ] Only if you— Well, I'll probably annoy you to no end before the night's out, anyway.
[ She shifts nervously in her seat and looks around the table, breathing a mental sigh of relief when she spots a small container of sugar packets sitting with some other always available items. Thank goodness she wasn't too far back in time for these. Deftly plucking out three, she arranges them just so on the edge of the table, not even stopping to think that he'd probably find it just plain weird. But that'd be a good thing, right? Then he won't even want a second date that they shouldn't be having anyway. ]
[ It's with no small amount of effort on his own part that he tries to calm himself and to stop that blasted redness from creeping any further up than it already has. But how does a person stop a blushing response? Daniel sure doesn't know, however much he might wish he did. ]
You? Annoy me? [ He laughs, but not at her. ] I'm more likely to annoy you than the other way around.
[ At least, that seems to be his track record at this point. ]
Look, I don't want to risk being the annoying one here, but it's not every day someone like you even bothers to give me the time of day.
[ He's not sure why he's telling her this, and for a minute, he lets his gaze drop to where she's lining up the sugar packets. ]
I don't expect anything from you beyond a nice dinner, some conversation, and when we're done, I'll tell you goodnight and that'll be it.
[ Unless she wants more. Part of him wishes she'd say she wants more, because even though they've only just met, he's curious about her, and would like to get to know her a little better. No, he doesn't believe in love at first sight, but if he did? This situation right here is pretty darn close. He just feels like he doesn't have the right to ask for anything else from her. ]
Might even walk you back to your place if you want, but I won't push.
[ It's painful to see the evidence of what society has done to the incredible man in front of her. Deep down, she'd hoped that it wasn't quite as bad as what she'd seen before at the bar, but it's clear now that it's not just the men who have treated him with such disdain. It's infuriating, really, and chases away any embarrassment she'd been grappling with.
Leaning forward, she crosses her arms on the table, not caring if it's not the 'proper' thing to do for this time period. Timeline be damned, she's not going to sit there and let him feel like he's less because he survived something horrible. ]
Someone like me? You don't know a thing about me, Agent Sousa. [ Her words are firm but quiet, commanding his full attention without being scolding or condescending. ] Why would you think I wouldn't give you the time of day? You're intelligent, resourceful, and clearly more than capable if you're working for the SSR. Is it because of your leg? [ She shakes her head and tries to keep the anger out of her expression — she mostly succeeds. ] My father lost part of his arm in the line of duty. It didn't make him less of a man, it made him more. He's stronger because of what he went through and anyone who doesn't see that in you too is an idiot. So please don't presume to know who I would and wouldn't choose to spend my time with.
[ He opens and closes his mouth several times while she's speaking, and finally, he just shuts his mouth again and lets her talk. He didn't want to turn the conversation back around to his personal feelings of inadequacy, because no one really wants to hear someone get down on themselves, but it's something of a knee-jerk reaction after years of people telling him he won't amount to anything.
And perhaps even worse than that are the people who pay attention to him out of pity or even charity. He doesn't want to be pitied, when there are so many others out there who have it much worse.
He stares at her for a second or two, noting the way she just leans on the table with her arms resting on the surface, and he thinks, not for the first time, how she's unlike anyone he's ever met before. It's almost as though she's ahead of the times, as ludicrous as that sounds. ]
Sorry, I know: I don't know you at all, and it's not my place to tell you anything, let alone how you should act or think, but-
[ He feels bad now, because he fell prey again to that loop of thinking that he's not good enough to deserve someone's attention and time because he's not whole anymore. ]
Your father sounds like a great man. And, uh, sorry if this is saying too much, but you're pretty great too.
[ And therein lies the problem; she is pretty great, and he just feels woefully inadequate next to her. His accomplishments are what they are, but accomplishments don't make the man, and unfortunately, he clearly hasn't shaken off his insecurities and gotten them to stop hounding him.
But does he even dare try to interject some humor at his expense here? ]
Bet you've never ruined a date in less than ten seconds.
[ His compliment unsettles those nerves within her, rattling them around again because she hadn't been expecting it. This was about him, not her, and she's not used to people thinking that sort of thing about her. Not like this, anyway. She's a good SHIELD agent and an incredible hacker, but to have someone saying that to her when he's viewing this like a date...
That doesn't happen anymore. She's too broken for anyone to bother looking past the pieces to see who she is underneath them. Yet, here they are, and she gets the strangest feeling that he's trying to see those hidden parts regardless of her own expectations.
But then he has to go and say that.
Leaning back away from the table again, she lets her hands fall to her lap and tilts her head slightly to the side, as if considering something. But then she just smiles, amused at this whole thing, and there's more than a hint of flirtation in her response. ]
Agent Sousa, didn't we just discuss how you shouldn't assume you know what I'm thinking? That includes whether this date's been ruined.
[ Honestly, he was beginning to feel a little dejected and definitely down, because he knows that was a big misstep on his part.
He very nearly withered just a bit under her chastisement, although he tried his best to keep from looking too crestfallen.
But then she's smiling, and unless he's missed his guess, there's some notes of flirtation in her words and her tone, and try as he might, he can't stop himself from perking back up, almost like a puppy would in anticipation of receiving a treat. ]
I know, I've gone and done it again, I'm sorry.
[ He hesitates, and almost without thinking, he reaches for one of the sugar packets that she left in the container and starts spinning it around between his fingers. ]
[ That change in him is plain to see and she's glad of it. That hint she'd seen before of his emotions is something she hopes to never see again. He deserves to feel good about himself, to know his own value and to feel valued for who he is. If she can be part of that...
Nevermind that she shouldn't be.
Her eyes watch that sugar packet for a moment while she considers her answer, then she shrugs and her smile widens. ]
I think you're still doing pretty okay. [ She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff, her smile turning a bit sheepish as she admits a piece of truth. ] And I think I'd gladly let you walk me back to my place after this — if I knew where that was. I just got into town today and I'm still figuring things out.
[ To be quite honest, the Daniel that's all bashful smiles and shy charm is much more him than the one who sometimes feels like his experiences have rendered him damaged goods and no use to anyone, at least as far as relationships are concerned.
That is partly why he threw himself so wholeheartedly into his work with the SSR, because that way, at least he still feels like he's doing something meaningful.]
I'm glad to hear that. Really.
[ There's a part of him that's still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it means something that she's still giving him a chance. ]
And I'd like that, but-
[ Now he looks at her nervously, as if he's too afraid to make the suggestion that's just occurred to him.
It crosses the lines of propriety just a bit, but he figures if it's just until she lands on her feet again, there's no harm in it.
[ Honestly, Daisy's still waiting for the other shoe to drop too. It's ridiculous, the Chronicoms have all moved on in time and there's no way he can be an LMD, and she's certain he isn't Hydra, and yet...
Well, there is precedent, after all. Her life has never been anything considered easy and life keeps through her one curveball after another. So while she knows he's a solid human guy, there's still some tiny part of her tucked into the shadows that worries. ]
But...? [ She frowns in confusion, not understanding where his train of thought is going. ] Huh?
[ He takes her by surprise, again, and she finds herself staring at him in stunned silence, a look of incomprehension etched upon her face.
She shouldn't do it. She shouldn't even be sitting here with him, let alone flirting and talking about possibly seeing him again, but she absolutely shouldn't be thinking of staying with him. Nevermind the potential for royally screwing the timeline, it'd be like going deep undercover for every hour of the day. Sure, she's gone undercover for missions before, but always just a few hours and with an end in mind. This would be neither. It could be days or weeks until she finds somewhere else to go.
Some part of her wants this, though. Desperately. Because deep down, she's scared, and the only thing that might have a hope of keeping at bay the terror of being truly alone is the promise of having someone with her who she can trust. She still won't be able to let her guard down completely with him, of course, but...
It's the only light she has in this darkness. She has to take it. ]
I, uh... Thank you. [ She stares at him for a moment longer, then blinks rapidly and almost physically shakes herself out of the stupor. Her fingertips find their way back to the sugar packets, moving one, then another, rearranging and straightening almost without thought. ] I mean, thank you, I'd appreciate the help.
[ He shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be making this offer, because they're complete strangers, and going into this with her will surely set people's tongues wagging.
But the truth is, he's just as desperate as she is. His rented apartment is too big, too quiet, and truthfully, he's lonely. That's part of what names this so dangerous, because he's acting out of desperation and not logic. ]
You're welcome. I just know if I was in your position, the help would mean a lot.
[ Logic has no place in their world, it seems. If it did, she would have realized the mess she was setting herself up for long before this moment.
Luggage. Of course he'd notice that she doesn't have any with her. Normally, people who arrive in town have things they brought with them, at least some sort of bag with a change of clothes and a damn toothbrush. She doesn't even have a purse, keeping everything in pockets because she hadn't wanted to worry about losing track of it in a fight.
She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it again. Attempt number two goes much the same, and it's only the third try that succeeds. ]
No, I don't. [ Keep it simple, Johnson. Wait and see what he has to say before making it more complicated than it needs to be. ]
[ Her answer isn't that surprising. If she had any, he figures she would have it with her, so it's both telling and not that she says she doesn't. ]
You're just full of twists and turns, huh? I mean, it's none of my business, but I have to say, you're pretty mysterious.
[ But his smile gives away the fact that he's only joking. Does he wonder what her background really is? Sure. Is he going to ask? Not a chance. ]
Gotta say, though, it's kind of odd you just turned up without any belongings. Sure, I don't know how long you plan to stay, but most everyone who passes through here has something with them.
But never mind, it's not my place to question you. It's your business, plain and simple.
[ They're not in the SSR offices, and she's not a suspect: she's a person, just like him. ]
[ He might be joking, but how long will it be before mysterious becomes frustrating? How long before he has to have answers and won't stop digging for them? This won't be able to last more than a few weeks, at best, so she steels herself for the task ahead of figuring out this new life she's been dropped into.
Alone. ]
I would tell you everything if I could. [ Again, a version of the truth seems safest. Easier to remember, less work to craft into a lie that's believable. ] What I can tell you... is that I'm waiting. I don't know for how long. I was told to lay low until it's safe for my team to be together again, so that's what I'm doing. It could be weeks or months or...
[ She can't say it. She can't put into words that she may never see them again and that part of her life might be over forever. It hurts too much to put those words out into the world. ]
[ If he could turn off his investigative side, he would. Especially because he's been where she is before. And of course, he knows what it means to not be at liberty to talk about certain things. ]
Look, I know what classified information means, and that there's stuff you can't talk about. It's none of my business why you're here or how long you're gonna be staying, but I figure since your team's not here, and you don't have a place to stay tonight-
[ He shrugs. ]
And hey, if it turns into weeks or months, I've worked with wor- I mean, there's been tougher situations. [ Another thought occurs to him then. ] Can you get a letter or something out to your team letting you know where you are?
[ He just accepts it. She's spun a tale of half-truths and secrets and he just accepts that there are things she can't talk about. He hasn't asked her for proof or credentials, he's just...
It's impressive, honestly. He's following his intuition and trusting her when he has no real reason to. Would she be able to do something like that? He's offering her help she desperately needs and asking for nothing in return. It's ridiculous how amazing he's being.
How are the women of his time so damn stupid to not see what an incredible man he is? ]
I'm not sure, but I'm going to try. [ It's something she's been considering at the back of her mind, actually. NYC is a big, sprawling city and she won't have any way of know if Z-1 shows up, just like they won't have any easy way of tracking her down. But that's something that can (hopefully) wait until tomorrow.
She's quiet for just a moment before leaning forward again, her arms on the table, one outstretched between them but only making it partway, like she's reaching for him but not quite. ] Thank you, Agent Sousa. Really.
[ The thing is, he probably should have asked for her credentials at the very least, but he also knows that stories have a way of falling apart if the ground they're built on isn't solid. So, he's not planning to try and poke holes in her story, trusting that time and circumstance will eventually reveal the truth, whatever that is. If it turns out that she's a double agent or something like that, the truth has a funny way of working itself out.
Sure, some folks might call him naive and too trusting, but he's seen enough to know that time will mostly always tell.
And the women of his time can't see past the false leg and the crutch, or the fact that he pales in comparison to other flashier gentlemen. He lacks the classic movie star looks that make girls weak at the knees, and just because he tends to believe that looks aren't everything, that really isn't a popular thought by anyone's standards. ]
Well, I got paper, envelopes, and stamps, so they're all yours. Tomorrow, though.
[ For now, they've got their dinner waiting for them that got dropped off by the waiter while they were engrossed in their conversation. It'd be a shame to let it get too much colder. ]
You're welcome, uh- [ He realizes then that he's not sure what her proper title is. Agent, most likely, but she did say she's a liaison, so maybe that's not what she prefers to be called. ] Ma'am.
[ It slips out while he's still thinking about what to call her, and even as he's reaching out for her halfway extended hand, that red tinge from earlier is making another appearance. And to make matters slightly more embarrassing, when he sees that her outstretched hand stops before fully reaching out, he stops in return.
So now he's sitting there with his own halfway extended hand, not sure if he should reach the rest of the way and take her hand or not, knowing he must look quite the fool. Maybe it's his tendency to second-guess himself that turns people off. ]
[ And how easily her story can fall apart... One wrong anecdote, a slip from misremembering a lie, referencing something from the future — and that's not even considering that she'll have to hide what she is. The last thing she needs is the SSR finding out about Inhumans decades before SHIELD learned of their existence.
The women of this era are idiots. Sure, Sousa may not look exactly like the movie stars of this time, but he's not at all unattractive, and more than that, he's a good man. Looks can and do fade, but having someone at your side who is loyal and kind with a strong moral compass? That's the dream. Maybe not when she'd been younger, but now? She'd give anything to find that person. The Fitz to her Simmons.
She knows they should eat their food. It smells incredible, and it's never good to let pasta sit for long, but she's also noticed their hands on the table, and the way he's addressed her. And it's a ridiculous notion, but something tells her this moment is important. For what or whom, she doesn't know, and it doesn't matter. Her hand crosses those inches to wrap around his, giving it a gentle squeeze as she smiles affectionately. ]
Call me Daisy. [ The smile turns playful, even mischievous as she adds: ] And technically, it's Agent.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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But... what if this is it for her? What if her team can't come back for her? Forward is easy, she remembers, but going backward is near impossible under their present circumstances. So what if this is her life now, New York in the 1940s when everyone is still picking themselves up after the war? What does that leave for her, the hacker living in a time before computers even exist, the Inhuman who can't let anyone find out what she is?
Best not to think about those things now, of course. She's got plenty of time to have an anxiety attack about her situation.
Smiling at Sousa's display of chivalry (and how weird is that?), she steps into the restaurant. It's cozy and not the least bit pretentious or stuffy — it's comfortable without being too casual. A good place for a first date. (Not that this is a date.) An employee is immediately there to greet them, the thick New York Italian blend accent brightening Daisy's smile as he the man shows them immediately to a booth. She takes note of the exits as she slides into her seat, always prepared just in case, and accepts the offered menu.
When the waiter has left to give them a few moments, she eyes her companion over the top of her menu. ] Not bad, Sousa.
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If nothing else, he can at least try to leave her with a memorable impression so that when they do part ways, he becomes a fond memory of her time here.
The restaurant is one of his favorites, and an old standby at that. Sure, he doesn't often have someone willing to step out with him, but the times that he has, he brought them here. And while he's trying his best not to think of this as a date, the part of him that's being honest with himself is saying that that ship has sailed.
Once they're alone with the menus in front of them, he allows his eyes to travel up above the text on the menu so he can watch her. She's beautiful; there's no ignoring that. And aside from that, she just exudes class. The way she moves and carries herself reminds him a lot of one Peggy Carter, and that thought comes with the smallest of poignant stabs. Even though it's been some time since he crossed paths with Carter, he still remembers her fondly and what they could have had, if things had worked out.
But it's very bad form to be thinking about another woman when in the presence of an equally attractive woman, so he forces his attentions back to the page just in time to hear her say something. ]
Oh, yeah, this place is great. The people here are the best, and the food they make puts most other places around to shame.
[ He pauses for a second, because he knows he's beginning to ramble, but then he adds: ] Do you know what you'd like to order?
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So, okay. Maybe this could be a date. The first one she's had since figuring out who she is as a person. And a low-commitment one, at that — that whole not altering the timeline thing. The decision loosens a thread of tension within her and she relaxes a little more. A date. Yeah, she can do this.
Closing her menu, she sets it on the table between them and folds her hands in her lap. ] What do you recommend? I'll have that.
[ And she smiles at him, letting herself genuinely enjoy the moment. It's not hard; he's easy to be around. ]
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My tastes are pretty simple, you know: spaghetti and meatballs. Kind of hard to go wrong with that. I don't know you that well, but you kinda seem like you'd like something a little more, uh- Nuanced, I guess is the word.
The cannelloni's good, if you like that kind of thing. And uh, I don't know, are you a vegetables kind of girl? They've got some good salads, if- I mean, if you want to balance it out a little.
[ He's talking too much again, which is what he tends to do when he's nervous. But he's not nervous at all, is he? Absoultely not. Not one bit. ]
no subject
Maybe a little too much so, actually. She's letting her guard down without even noticing it, giving into her tendency to tease and banter and even flirt and...
Well. ]
Salad sounds good... But you know, I think I could use some comfort food tonight, it's been kind of a rough day. So I'll go with spaghetti and meatballs as well. [ Her smile turns a bit playful as she looks around the cozy restaurant. ] I do enjoy a good cannelloni, but I can save that for the second date.
[ It takes a second before what she's said catches up with her brain and then she freezes, her gaze stuck on a display of wine bottles at the side of the room. Oh shit. She did not just say that. She did not just say— ]
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Excellent. You won't be disappointed, I promise.
[ And then as if on cue, the waiter appears, and Daniel gives him their order. He's about to ask her if she'd like something to drink, but then she mentions a second date, and without warning, Daniel's neck flushes a bright red, and that redness starts creeping further up his neck and above his collar.
But he wills himself to stay as calm as he can, and he manages to say: ]
Huh, I must be making a better impression than I thought if you're already looking forward to a second date.
[ He even manages the calmest, completely unflustered smile that he can, under these circumstances. ]
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How could she have let herself say that? Johnson, what the hell is wrong with you? ]
Well, I didn't mean— [ Now she's the one stumbling over her words and feeling flustered. She never feels flustered! ] Only if you— Well, I'll probably annoy you to no end before the night's out, anyway.
[ She shifts nervously in her seat and looks around the table, breathing a mental sigh of relief when she spots a small container of sugar packets sitting with some other always available items. Thank goodness she wasn't too far back in time for these. Deftly plucking out three, she arranges them just so on the edge of the table, not even stopping to think that he'd probably find it just plain weird. But that'd be a good thing, right? Then he won't even want a second date that they shouldn't be having anyway. ]
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You? Annoy me? [ He laughs, but not at her. ] I'm more likely to annoy you than the other way around.
[ At least, that seems to be his track record at this point. ]
Look, I don't want to risk being the annoying one here, but it's not every day someone like you even bothers to give me the time of day.
[ He's not sure why he's telling her this, and for a minute, he lets his gaze drop to where she's lining up the sugar packets. ]
I don't expect anything from you beyond a nice dinner, some conversation, and when we're done, I'll tell you goodnight and that'll be it.
[ Unless she wants more. Part of him wishes she'd say she wants more, because even though they've only just met, he's curious about her, and would like to get to know her a little better. No, he doesn't believe in love at first sight, but if he did? This situation right here is pretty darn close. He just feels like he doesn't have the right to ask for anything else from her. ]
Might even walk you back to your place if you want, but I won't push.
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Leaning forward, she crosses her arms on the table, not caring if it's not the 'proper' thing to do for this time period. Timeline be damned, she's not going to sit there and let him feel like he's less because he survived something horrible. ]
Someone like me? You don't know a thing about me, Agent Sousa. [ Her words are firm but quiet, commanding his full attention without being scolding or condescending. ] Why would you think I wouldn't give you the time of day? You're intelligent, resourceful, and clearly more than capable if you're working for the SSR. Is it because of your leg? [ She shakes her head and tries to keep the anger out of her expression — she mostly succeeds. ] My father lost part of his arm in the line of duty. It didn't make him less of a man, it made him more. He's stronger because of what he went through and anyone who doesn't see that in you too is an idiot. So please don't presume to know who I would and wouldn't choose to spend my time with.
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And perhaps even worse than that are the people who pay attention to him out of pity or even charity. He doesn't want to be pitied, when there are so many others out there who have it much worse.
He stares at her for a second or two, noting the way she just leans on the table with her arms resting on the surface, and he thinks, not for the first time, how she's unlike anyone he's ever met before. It's almost as though she's ahead of the times, as ludicrous as that sounds. ]
Sorry, I know: I don't know you at all, and it's not my place to tell you anything, let alone how you should act or think, but-
[ He feels bad now, because he fell prey again to that loop of thinking that he's not good enough to deserve someone's attention and time because he's not whole anymore. ]
Your father sounds like a great man. And, uh, sorry if this is saying too much, but you're pretty great too.
[ And therein lies the problem; she is pretty great, and he just feels woefully inadequate next to her. His accomplishments are what they are, but accomplishments don't make the man, and unfortunately, he clearly hasn't shaken off his insecurities and gotten them to stop hounding him.
But does he even dare try to interject some humor at his expense here? ]
Bet you've never ruined a date in less than ten seconds.
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That doesn't happen anymore. She's too broken for anyone to bother looking past the pieces to see who she is underneath them. Yet, here they are, and she gets the strangest feeling that he's trying to see those hidden parts regardless of her own expectations.
But then he has to go and say that.
Leaning back away from the table again, she lets her hands fall to her lap and tilts her head slightly to the side, as if considering something. But then she just smiles, amused at this whole thing, and there's more than a hint of flirtation in her response. ]
Agent Sousa, didn't we just discuss how you shouldn't assume you know what I'm thinking? That includes whether this date's been ruined.
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He very nearly withered just a bit under her chastisement, although he tried his best to keep from looking too crestfallen.
But then she's smiling, and unless he's missed his guess, there's some notes of flirtation in her words and her tone, and try as he might, he can't stop himself from perking back up, almost like a puppy would in anticipation of receiving a treat. ]
I know, I've gone and done it again, I'm sorry.
[ He hesitates, and almost without thinking, he reaches for one of the sugar packets that she left in the container and starts spinning it around between his fingers. ]
So, uh, can I ask you what you're thinking?
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Nevermind that she shouldn't be.
Her eyes watch that sugar packet for a moment while she considers her answer, then she shrugs and her smile widens. ]
I think you're still doing pretty okay. [ She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff, her smile turning a bit sheepish as she admits a piece of truth. ] And I think I'd gladly let you walk me back to my place after this — if I knew where that was. I just got into town today and I'm still figuring things out.
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That is partly why he threw himself so wholeheartedly into his work with the SSR, because that way, at least he still feels like he's doing something meaningful.]
I'm glad to hear that. Really.
[ There's a part of him that's still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it means something that she's still giving him a chance. ]
And I'd like that, but-
[ Now he looks at her nervously, as if he's too afraid to make the suggestion that's just occurred to him.
It crosses the lines of propriety just a bit, but he figures if it's just until she lands on her feet again, there's no harm in it.
... In theory. ]
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Well, there is precedent, after all. Her life has never been anything considered easy and life keeps through her one curveball after another. So while she knows he's a solid human guy, there's still some tiny part of her tucked into the shadows that worries. ]
But...? [ She frowns in confusion, not understanding where his train of thought is going. ] Huh?
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[ A voice in his head is telling him not to do what he's about to do, but he plows on ahead anyway. ]
I got an extra room I'm not using. There's plenty of room so you won't have to worry about anything, and I won't disturb you at all.
Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking, getting such a big place when it's just me, but you're welcome to it.
[ And now she can call him ridiculous and shoot him down. It's fine. ]
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She shouldn't do it. She shouldn't even be sitting here with him, let alone flirting and talking about possibly seeing him again, but she absolutely shouldn't be thinking of staying with him. Nevermind the potential for royally screwing the timeline, it'd be like going deep undercover for every hour of the day. Sure, she's gone undercover for missions before, but always just a few hours and with an end in mind. This would be neither. It could be days or weeks until she finds somewhere else to go.
Some part of her wants this, though. Desperately. Because deep down, she's scared, and the only thing that might have a hope of keeping at bay the terror of being truly alone is the promise of having someone with her who she can trust. She still won't be able to let her guard down completely with him, of course, but...
It's the only light she has in this darkness. She has to take it. ]
I, uh... Thank you. [ She stares at him for a moment longer, then blinks rapidly and almost physically shakes herself out of the stupor. Her fingertips find their way back to the sugar packets, moving one, then another, rearranging and straightening almost without thought. ] I mean, thank you, I'd appreciate the help.
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But the truth is, he's just as desperate as she is. His rented apartment is too big, too quiet, and truthfully, he's lonely. That's part of what names this so dangerous, because he's acting out of desperation and not logic. ]
You're welcome. I just know if I was in your position, the help would mean a lot.
[ And then a thought hits him. ]
Do you have luggage somewhere?
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Luggage. Of course he'd notice that she doesn't have any with her. Normally, people who arrive in town have things they brought with them, at least some sort of bag with a change of clothes and a damn toothbrush. She doesn't even have a purse, keeping everything in pockets because she hadn't wanted to worry about losing track of it in a fight.
She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it again. Attempt number two goes much the same, and it's only the third try that succeeds. ]
No, I don't. [ Keep it simple, Johnson. Wait and see what he has to say before making it more complicated than it needs to be. ]
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You're just full of twists and turns, huh? I mean, it's none of my business, but I have to say, you're pretty mysterious.
[ But his smile gives away the fact that he's only joking. Does he wonder what her background really is? Sure. Is he going to ask? Not a chance. ]
Gotta say, though, it's kind of odd you just turned up without any belongings. Sure, I don't know how long you plan to stay, but most everyone who passes through here has something with them.
But never mind, it's not my place to question you. It's your business, plain and simple.
[ They're not in the SSR offices, and she's not a suspect: she's a person, just like him. ]
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Alone. ]
I would tell you everything if I could. [ Again, a version of the truth seems safest. Easier to remember, less work to craft into a lie that's believable. ] What I can tell you... is that I'm waiting. I don't know for how long. I was told to lay low until it's safe for my team to be together again, so that's what I'm doing. It could be weeks or months or...
[ She can't say it. She can't put into words that she may never see them again and that part of her life might be over forever. It hurts too much to put those words out into the world. ]
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Look, I know what classified information means, and that there's stuff you can't talk about. It's none of my business why you're here or how long you're gonna be staying, but I figure since your team's not here, and you don't have a place to stay tonight-
[ He shrugs. ]
And hey, if it turns into weeks or months, I've worked with wor- I mean, there's been tougher situations. [ Another thought occurs to him then. ] Can you get a letter or something out to your team letting you know where you are?
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It's impressive, honestly. He's following his intuition and trusting her when he has no real reason to. Would she be able to do something like that? He's offering her help she desperately needs and asking for nothing in return. It's ridiculous how amazing he's being.
How are the women of his time so damn stupid to not see what an incredible man he is? ]
I'm not sure, but I'm going to try. [ It's something she's been considering at the back of her mind, actually. NYC is a big, sprawling city and she won't have any way of know if Z-1 shows up, just like they won't have any easy way of tracking her down. But that's something that can (hopefully) wait until tomorrow.
She's quiet for just a moment before leaning forward again, her arms on the table, one outstretched between them but only making it partway, like she's reaching for him but not quite. ] Thank you, Agent Sousa. Really.
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Sure, some folks might call him naive and too trusting, but he's seen enough to know that time will mostly always tell.
And the women of his time can't see past the false leg and the crutch, or the fact that he pales in comparison to other flashier gentlemen. He lacks the classic movie star looks that make girls weak at the knees, and just because he tends to believe that looks aren't everything, that really isn't a popular thought by anyone's standards. ]
Well, I got paper, envelopes, and stamps, so they're all yours. Tomorrow, though.
[ For now, they've got their dinner waiting for them that got dropped off by the waiter while they were engrossed in their conversation. It'd be a shame to let it get too much colder. ]
You're welcome, uh- [ He realizes then that he's not sure what her proper title is. Agent, most likely, but she did say she's a liaison, so maybe that's not what she prefers to be called. ] Ma'am.
[ It slips out while he's still thinking about what to call her, and even as he's reaching out for her halfway extended hand, that red tinge from earlier is making another appearance. And to make matters slightly more embarrassing, when he sees that her outstretched hand stops before fully reaching out, he stops in return.
So now he's sitting there with his own halfway extended hand, not sure if he should reach the rest of the way and take her hand or not, knowing he must look quite the fool. Maybe it's his tendency to second-guess himself that turns people off. ]
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The women of this era are idiots. Sure, Sousa may not look exactly like the movie stars of this time, but he's not at all unattractive, and more than that, he's a good man. Looks can and do fade, but having someone at your side who is loyal and kind with a strong moral compass? That's the dream. Maybe not when she'd been younger, but now? She'd give anything to find that person. The Fitz to her Simmons.
She knows they should eat their food. It smells incredible, and it's never good to let pasta sit for long, but she's also noticed their hands on the table, and the way he's addressed her. And it's a ridiculous notion, but something tells her this moment is important. For what or whom, she doesn't know, and it doesn't matter. Her hand crosses those inches to wrap around his, giving it a gentle squeeze as she smiles affectionately. ]
Call me Daisy. [ The smile turns playful, even mischievous as she adds: ] And technically, it's Agent.
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