You're Infected

July 16, 2015:

After receiving a message from Bobby, May surprises Jemma with a visitor

The Triskelian - New York

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Bobby had gotten a call from May to come down to the Triskelion. This made perfect sense as he had left her a message a day or two ago about one of her agents being maybe compromised. Of course he can't fix Agent Simmons but even May knowing about it might let her seek the appropriate measures herself. Or at least keep an eye on the woman.


Simmons is in her laboratory. Reviewing the information that was provided in the Manilla folder the other night, and an experiment running in one of her machines.

Seated on a tall stool behind her work bench, her attention is split between the screen of her computer and the folder of information open beside her.


Melinda May meets Drake in the lobby. Perhaps this was planned without Simmons' knowledge? Well, either way, she leads the young man to the biochemist's lab, letting them both into the space without giving Jemma any warning. Deliberate? Very likely. "Simmons."


"Er… Doctor Simmons…" Not Jemma because that seems inappropriate here. "I ah, contacted Agent May because…" Oy this is awkward. "I've… got some news. It's pretty serious."


Simmons looks up and focusses on Agent May, blinking owlishly for a moment "Agent Ma…" her eyes cut to Bobby and there's that flicker of red and black, before she shakes her head and begins to stammer "Bo… Mr Drake." The rest of his sentence starts to sink in "Serious?" colour starts to drain from her face as she looks to Agent May.

Yes, she has an inkling.


Melinda May steps over to stand at a sort of neutral distance between the pair, nodding to Bobby to proceed with his serious news. It also puts her in a spot where she can hit Jemma with an ICER if that turns out to be necessary. Let's hope it doesn't.


Bobby glances from May to Jemma. "A couple nights ago a woman named Wanda and one of my friends drew… something out of me. Paranormal. Infective. They said…" He swallows. "They said my eyes were swirling black and red while they did it. I don't remember they… kind of put me under. I remembered that day you'd been in the lab…" Bobby pauses when he sees that flicker of red and black. Yeah. That.


Jemma nods slowly as Bobby speaks, a blush creeping up her neck. "I told you I thought that something wasn't right when you came to my apartment one time." There it goes again, the swirl and it takes Jemma slightly longer to get control of it. "Wait… you said infective…. "

Whatever the effects on Bobby, it's affected Simmons differently.


Melinda May glances toward Bobby briefly. "Explain, please." She's still standing there seemingly relaxed, but anyone who's been around her in a dangerous situation probably recognizes her stance as one of readiness. Ready for what though, is likely the question.


"I was… I took in some energy from Wanda when she was a bit out of control. My collegues tell me it caused personality shifts. And maybe more I have… er… lost time. Periods where I don't know what I did." He pauses. "I do know I tended to wake up in leather, among other things." Yeah, Bobby's a bit embarassed about this one.

"My friends were able to treat it. I can tell you who but… the longer Je- er, Doctor Simmons goes the greater the effect."


At the mention of leather, Jemma blushes brightly but pushes her own embarrassment down. Moving out from behind her workbench, she leans a hip against the side whilst watching as Bobby explains, the red and black starting to swirl more frequently. Rather than responding, the biochem remains silent, waiting for the rest of the explanation.


Melinda May watches Jemma's reaction and addresses Bobby again. "Then tell us who. Simmons, if you have any time-sensitive projects running, I'll assign another tech to finalize them and record the data for you." She has every intention of leading Simmons straight out the door and to whomever Drake names the moment he utters it… if he would just spit it out already.


"You'll need to find Wanda Maximoff… or more likely, she'll find you. She has a way of doing. And it might help if you emailed Doctor Jean Grey. She has talents that bear on this case." What those are he won't say. But he takes out a card with the e-mail written on the back. After a moment Bobby glances back to Jemma, seeing the color change in her eyes more and more.


"Wanda?" Jemma's met her and seems to meet her at odd times as well. "Dr Grey? I've met her as well." the biochem distinctly remembers the meeting she and Fitz had with her. Poor May is being ignored, something that doesn't usually happen, and Jemma takes an involuntary step or two forward.


Melinda May actually lets Jemma ignore her for the moment, though her hand near-silently loosens the ICER in its holster at her hip. "Drake, can you get us in touch with Dr. Grey right now?"


"If I could I'd have brought her with me. Sorry." Bobby seems to mean that. Is… May going to shoot Simmons?

What is procedure for that? Bobby's mind goes to odd places sometimes.


And now… it's time for Jemma to totally embarrass herself!

The red and black stops swirling, it fills her eyes and the biochem closes the distance between her and Bobby "We don't need Wanda or Dr Grey… I'm enough for you, surely?" So totally not Jemma.


The ICER is levelled at Simmons the moment she takes another step toward Drake. "Don't move." It's that tone of voice that cadet agents are told is capable of making a person lose control of their bladder. "Drake, I don't care if you have to hack into a government-owned telecommunications satellite. Get a hold of Dr. Grey. NOW."


"Who do I look like, the Oracle?" Bobby murmurs as he goes for his phone. Of course that's not going to do much if Jemma's on him by then. Which she will be because he doesn't back up and he hasn't got any room to either. So this is going to get really awkward really fast.


Mays tone gets through to Jemma for a fraction of a minute and the young biochem actually pauses… but shes moving again, standing very close to Bobby putting a hand on his chest "We really don't need Dr Grey, Bobby. Come on… let's go."


May hesitates. She actually hesitates. Her eyes flick toward Bobby to see how he's going to handle this. Of course, if he doesn't then Jemma's getting a taste of her own dendrotoxin.


Bobby doesn't know that he can handle it. Not in any way that'll resolve it. So what he does instead is loop both arms around Jemma, which has the effect of holding her quite still for May. "Of course we don't." He murrmurs, nodding to May. Do it.


As Bobbys arms close around her, Jemma stills. Whatever the effect of the corruptive energy, Bobby's just done the right thing. "Let's go, Bobby." Poor May, has been totally forgotten. She is so totally going to get shot.


May nods back to Bobby and fires the ICER at Jemma in the same motion. Center mass, away from the possibility of hitting Drake as well. Of course, she waits until it's confirmed that Simmons is down before asking the young man with a bit of heat in her voice, "What the HELL was that about?"


"You remember, uh, how I said personality shifts?" Bobby might be blushing a bit. "She… should be okay. I usually recovered after a bit." Which doesn't explain what it was about exactly, but might well help May understand 'why' it was about.


Jemma slumps in Bobby's arms. She's out of it. When she wakes, as long as Bobby's nowhere to be seen, Wanda's corruptive energy won't affect her. She'll be blushing an awful lot though.


May arches an eyebrow at Bobby. "All right. Go. Get in touch with Dr. Grey and try to find Wanda. We need to fix this immediately." Unless Bobby volunteers to carry Jemma to the small cot hidden at the back of the lab, May will carry the younger woman over there. They're the same height, but really. She could probaby carry Bobby without trouble if necessary.


Bobby'll help. And then he'll get the hell out and do as May asks, because it's clear that Jemma needs the help. Hopefully Wanda and Jean aren't too hard to track down.


May watches Bobby leave, then leans against the nearest worktable while pulling out her phone and dialing a number. "Coulson. What's the form for 'under the influence of a foreign power or artifact' again?"

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