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“Hey, kiddo,” says Coulson, pressing the green button on Lola II’s screen.
“Hey, A.C.,” says Daisy’s voice. The sound quality isn’t perfect - space will do that to a signal - but he can understand her just fine. “Are you driving?”
“Yep,” says Coulson. He pats the dashboard, even though no one can see him. “Mack really souped her up. How’s space going?”
“Well,” says Daisy. “We ran out of M&Ms. Do you think the odds are good of finding a planet that makes chocolate?”
“I mean, didn’t that ship from last week sell you guys a container of french fries?”
“Yeah, that was weird.” She chuckles. “You know, it’s not the same as working together with you guys, but I’m glad we’re finding a way to keep in touch.”
“Absolutely,” he says. “Can you imagine if we only talked once a year at the hologram reunion?”
Mack puts down the mission report.
“Sir?” asks the agent in front of him. She’s new. The mission went pretty terribly, but she’s looking down like she’s expecting to be fired and he doesn’t want to make things worse.
“You’re fine, Agent,” he says, with the calmest voice he can manage. Then he pulls out his phone.
Mack: A team messed up their mission by choosing the cover of a TRAVELLING CIRCUS.
Mack: Please come back. I need real agents.
The response is almost immediate.
Bobbi: Kids these days!
Elena steps into the car and sits down, heavily. “You know, I know I’m fast, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do a lot of running.”
Davis glances back from the passenger seat, balancing a tablet on his knee. Piper finally convinced him to let her drive, which leaves him to write the mission report. “We’ll be back at base soon, boss. You want your phone?”
“Yeah,” says Elena, catching the cell phone he pulls out of the glove compartment. There’s a few texts from Mack, a 15-text thread about the ongoing futbol game from Hunter, and a missed call from Jemma.
Elena calls her back. “Hey.”
“Elena!” says Jemma, sounding distracted. “Give me a moment, I had some findings I wanted to discuss with you.” It sounds like she’s walking through the house. Elena leans her head back on the seat and feels the adrenaline crash hit.
Finally, she hears Jemma sit down. “Elena, I’ve been looking through the specs you sent me. I’ve truly never seen anything like it. If you could ask the scientists on staff to send me a few more scans-”
Elena laughs. “You know, this is supposed to be you doing us a favor.”
Jemma clears her throat. “Well, you know, I couldn’t- look, it’s not my fault that I love my work!”
“You’re supposed to be retired,” says Elena. “Once it gets to the point where you’re begging me for schematics, I think that makes your ‘retirement’ more like a sabbatical.”
“Yes, well, I’ve been considering it,” says Jemma. “One thing at a time. I assume your mission went well, given that you’re talking to me and not tied up in a basement somewhere?”
“I don’t even know why you ask,” says Elena, chuckling. “There’s a crappy horror movie that came out last weekend. Are you available Thursday?”
“For movie night?” asks Jemma. “Always.”
May checks her texts on her way back to her classroom from lunch.
Phil: Hey, which novel sounds more interesting - shitty historical romance or shitty modern romance?
She grins and shifts the phone to her right hand to reply.
May: Shitty historical, always. You gonna mail that to me or actually come visit in person?
Coulson: I guess you’ll just have to see.
Mack looks up at Agent Perez, who’s just finished briefing him on the situation in England. “Sounds good,” he says. “You’re going to contact Henderson, then?”
“Yes, sir,” says Perez, giving them an absent salute as they stare down at their screen. “Anything else?”
“No, I don’t think so,” says Mack. As Perez turns and leaves, he looks down at his desk. He doesn’t have anything else urgent, does he?
He clicks the pager. “Axel, do I have any messages?”
His secretary Axel - a competent guy, eager to please - says, “Yeah, just one, Director Mackenzie. From your son.”
Mack grins. He’s never corrected anyone on Flint’s identity - never felt the need to. “I’m gonna call him back. Tell everyone I’m busy.”
He types in Flint’s number by muscle memory and hits the dial button. Flint picks up in two rings. “Hey, Mack.”
“Hi, kid,” says Mack. “Did you need something?”
“May says that you told Uncle Reuben that you were an insurance investigator,” says Flint. “Really?”
Mack laughs. “Oh my god, she told you that?”
“Why did you think that would work?” asks Flint. “I mean, come on, you couldn’t say- like- I don’t know, something more plausible?”
“I don’t have to take this sass from you,” says Mack, still chuckling. “I could hang up right now.”
“Nah, but you want to hear about how my day’s been. Right?” Flint pauses. “Daaaad?”
“Low blow, kid,” says Mack, but he’s still smiling. “All right, come on, tell me how your day’s going. When are you going to come visit us?”
He can hear Flint shake his head. “You know how busy I am. May makes me - her wonderful, awesome, helpful TA - grade all the essays.”
“She does not.”
“Yeah, okay, she doesn’t,” says Flint, laughing. “My day’s been good. The study group and I are gonna go out for ice cream later.”
“Remember,” says Mack. “If you want him to know you’re interested, you have to insist on paying.”
“I know,” says Flint. “Come on, I’m not an amateur.”
“I mean, last week you were asking me for advice-”
“I’ll talk to you later,” interrupts Flint. “Let me know when you and Elena want to do family card night this week, okay? Love you.”
“Love you too, kid,” says Mack. “Have fun.”
Fitz throws up his hands. “Goal!”
He grabs his phone and takes a picture of the screen.
Fitz: And you said we wouldn’t score a single goal.
It takes a few minutes, but soon enough a response comes.
Hunter: Win a game and then maybe I’ll take your team seriously.
May’s answering the last few questions of her most devoted students after the lecture when her phone buzzes in her back pocket. Short-long-short-short.
She puts her hands up, interrupting the latest question about - something to do with Tony Stark? She’s honestly not sure. “Listen, I have to take this call. Email it to me, okay?”
“Sure, May!” says Alex.
“See you on Friday, May,” says Elaina.
May watches them file out of the auditorium, then pulls out her phone and answers it in one smooth motion. “Hey, asshole.”
“That is a terribly mean thing to call a friend,” says Hunter.
May snorts. “Yeah, sure. Did you need something, or-?”
“What, I couldn’t call to just check up on my old pal Melinda? Just, shoot the breeze with my bestie Mel? Chew the fat with-”
“See, you do call me for friend reasons, but never sounding like that,” says May.
“Right,” says Hunter. “Right. See, I need a bit of a favor.”
“I am not bailing you out of jail.”
“Who said anything about jail,” says Hunter. “Honestly. The disrespect.”
“What do you need then?”
“I need you to- look, can you- uh- tell me what the weather’s like in Ontario?”
“You’re in Europe right now,” says May, shaking her head. She would absolutely deny smiling if anyone were around to see her.
“I want to know,” he insists.
She pulls open her laptop and googles it. “75 degrees Fahrenheit.”
“In civilized numbers?”
“About 24 degrees Celsius.” She sighs. “Is this really what you needed?”
“Yes!”
At this point she’s grinning outright. “Alright. Say hi to Bobbi for me, okay?”
“Of course,” he says. “Hey, Bobbi, May says hi!”
“Hi, May!” calls Bobbi. “Are you coming to bail us out?”
“She did not mean what you think-”
May bites her tongue to avoid giggling.
Giggling. She’s going soft.
“Bye, Hunter,” she says, and hangs up.
Flint: Elena, is it true that you spent an entire robot invasion quoting apocalypse movies?
Elena grins and picks up her phone, ignoring the agent briefing her with details she already knows.
Elena: Being part of this family means you need to appreciate terrible science fiction.
Flint: Elena. Mom.
Flint: I was born during terrible science fiction.
Bobbi hits the 3 on her speed dial and waits for him to pick up.
It takes a minute, but he picks up. “Talk to me.”
“Just had the best omlette of my life,” she says, turning and pretending to examine a window when her mark glances in her direction. “I can bet you’ll never have anything to beat it. It had peanut butter in it.”
“Disgusting,” says Fitz, scoffing. “Even I could make a better one than that.”
“It was heavenly. I’m not sure anyone could. Also, Fitz, I love you, but you can’t cook. Baking? Sure. Things that don’t involve a stove? Delicious. But you can’t cook. Remember that time you burned hot dogs?”
“I got distracted by the television!”
“Sure,” says Bobbi. Her mark ducks into an office building, so she turns towards a car to watch him in the reflection. “Anyway, I think this puts me on top for breakfast foods.”
“I found this place around the corner that serves fresh ramen. It has everything beaten - even that Dennys in Mississippi,” says Fitz. Bobbi can hear his footsteps echoing on hardwood floors.
“I’m not sure that counts as a breakfast food.”
“You went to college, didn’t you?”
“Touché.”
Daisy looks out the window at a brand new planet. It’s blue.
She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture, then texts it to Jemma.
Daisy: I don’t care what you say, microwaved tea is just as good and way more convenient than boiled tea.