Welcome Back, Agent Lewis

November 22, 2015:

Darcy Lewis has a rather normal day at work - for her.

Triskelion

The Headquarters, Armory and Fortress of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics division is, for the most part, an unassailable tower in the midst of the diplomatic sprawl that is Midtown East. The primary intelligence clearing houses and most of SHIELD's senior leadership are all housed here, along with a veritable army of agents and staff to keep the place running, the world spinning and the weirdness at bay.

Characters

NPCs: Receptionist Agent Latte

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: Flirting with Disaster - Young Beautiful in a Hurry


Fade In…

Tuesday. Afternoon. Sometime after 1pm EST. At least, that's what the little white text that types itself out on the bottom of the TV screen says. Darcy's just waking in from her lunch break. Three steps in and the front desk calls out:

"You're late, Agent." Darcy mouths along with the reception. Her timing is immaculate. It's like they've done this dance before. The brown haired, bun-wearing Agent all but saunters to the front desk and sets down a mocha latte, extra foam venti.

"I have an excuse," Darcy chimes in, like a teenager. She's not. But she sounds like one.

The receptionist gestures towards a sign, that clearly reads 'No Outside Food or Drink'. But that's really a strongly worded suggestion, isn't it? As Darcy is coming up with the excuses why she's late again, the newest asset to the Agency is having a bit of trouble with the card reader. It should be as easy as taking out his ID and swipe.

Swipe.

'Card not read. Please slide again.'

Snake-Eyes tilts his hood, mask, and visor covered head and tries again. He swipes the card, waits a few moments, and then a buzz.

'Card not read. Please slide again.'

Sure it's not Monday morning instead of Tuesday afternoon?

The receptionist hears the noise and glances past Darcy towards the black clad ninja. "Sometimes the new cards don't work!" she calls out helpfully. "Try one more time, and if it doesn't work, I can give it a check."

Darcy's eyes roll to the sign. Really? She smacks her lips as if she were chewing gum and levels a quirked-browed oh-really? look at teh receptionist as she nudges the venti a half in closer.

"It's a warm, foamy, tasty excuse. And I brought you a latte," Darcy adds just as the scanner buzzes. She turns her head to look over her shoulder, having to turn her body a bit as well. Her lips curve up in a bit of a coy grin for the new guy. Her warm eyes keep it from being a malicious grin."Sometimes you have to wiggle it," she offers. Because she did that once. It didn't -work-, exactly. But, she still did it.

"Bribery only works with you, Lewis." The receptionist offers in a conspiratory fashion before the scanner buzzes angrilly again. "Come on over." she comments towards the black clad ninja.

This is why Snake-Eyes doesn't bother with doors. It's so much easier than trying to get in through the blasted scanner activated doors. Setting his ID on the counter, Darcy may note that just as he is dressed now, he is on the ID. No face showing. Apparently he's one of those rare exceptions that doesn't have to take off his mask for a photo. Even Captain America had to take off his cowl. The receptionist scans the ID's QR code, looking over the information. "Alright, it's clear, Asset Snake-Eyes. You'll need to put in a work order with technology to fix the reader." she smiles and offers the ID card back to him.

At least the card says him. And the build matches, while not being overly so, like metahumans and such. At Darcy's quip, he bows his head, partially in greetings, partially in what might be amusement. It's really hard to tell when all she can see is a reflection of herself in the visor.

"Shhh… That's a not-so-well-kept secret," Darcy complains with a wink and a near-giggle. She bounces to the toes of her platform heels as Ninja Tabi-man steps up at her side. She turns to looks at his shoes, then the side seam of his pants, then his belt, then up the line of his jacket before looking at herself in the visor. She blinks, then smooths back a single unruly curl that escaped her bun. Her lips twist comically before she looks back at the receptionist.

"Zazzle Brights, 10pk. It's got your name on it. I'll send it by," says Darcy as the receptionist checks Snake-eyes in. Darcy sneaks a glance at the photo ID, before looking back at Snake-Eyes.

"Full maskie. Hot," she says, as if she had said Full Monty instead. The words have that inflection to them. "Need a tour to some place I have clearance for? Or are you gonna wait for Storm Shadow to show up?"

He already outranks her. By one. But that means he has more access than her. Snake-Eyes is black, black, black - oh look more black. And weapons. The mikimoto sword sits at the small of his back in it's sheath, along with several combat knives, blades, and a pistol in a holster at the side. He listens to what the woman's comments with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

That is until she has to hit the trigger word. Even though the tone may have been mocking, or meant to be friendly, just bringing up his blood brother causes a poor reaction. His hand flicks out, grabbing her wrist, a little touch to a nerve just above the wrist itself, and applies sudden force and tension, as he thrusts her onto the desk, coming up below her at too dangerously close, with a blessed blade coming up her chest to settle the tip beneath her throat.

That visor stares at her impassively. After Satana's moves just a few nights ago, who's to say that this young coffee welding rules-bending psuedo-agent isn't the demoness in disguise, after all?

Darcy squeaks as she's man-handled, then yelping as the touch to her wrist makes her whole arm tingle numb no-one's-home. Then she's slammed into the desk with enough force to nearly knock all the air from her lungs. The blade at her throat registers when she starts to dip her chin so she can breathe. Her eyes go wide, and beneath Snake-Eyes' grip, Darcy starts to tremble even as she rallies her mouth. A suck of air, tiny, thread-like, painful…

The receptionist yelps as her coffee bribe is spilt onto the floor and she's grabbing for her personal weapon. "WAIT DON'T!" she's yelling at the ninja.

In all fairness, if it were Satana, she'd have made a far more flirtatious remark than what Darcy manages. Also, with being this close, he gets a much more clearer read on Darcy's inner spirit and qi, which checks off in the ninja's mind as being safe - perhaps scared to death and hopefully he didn't make her pee a little, which may be the only reason why Snake-Eyes doesn't give her a second smile across her neck. Releasing the young woman, he straightens up, pulling her back into position and releases, an apologetic bow offered to the woman.

Just be glad that he didn't go ahead and complete the motion he had started. Slipping the blade back into his belt, he returns his ID to a pouch like nothing ever happened.

Dry as a bone, Darcy's pulled back to rights and let go before her brain fully realizes she's no longer in danger. That realization hits her brain about the same time as sensation from her arm does, and Darcy moans and grabs at her arm. The bruise on her wrist is already beginning to show. She looks up at Snake-Eyes and offers a weak, watery, hesitant little smile.

“Darcy Lewis. Nice to almost get skewered by you."

At least she's not too mad at him. Taking her hand, he turns it, first to study the mark. It'll clear quickly - ninja's go for nerves, not major blood supplies, after all. Then he offers his name in ASL. Which is short, and involves a paired of 'fanged' fingers moved in a curving fashion, followed by pointing at his left then his right eye in turn.

He doesn't go any further then that with the ASL, since he needs to know whether or not she understands sign language or will he find another way to 'speak' to her.

Darcy bruises easily. She doesn't complain when her wrist is taken again, though she does flinch slightly. When his name is offered in sign, her head tilts.

"I'm…. going to assume that meant Snake-Eyes, cause that's what Agent Does-An-Awesome-Job-Of-Confescating-Outside-Food-and-Lattes called you, but… I totally suck at charades. I still play it, mind you. And it's more fun drunk, but I still suck at it," says the Darce.

This isn't the first time he's come across someone that doesn't know the language. Snake-Eyes nods towards what Darcy says about the receptionist before he tilts his head in amusement at the comment about drunk charades. Now that he has a chance to think a little more on it, and he realizes he made reference to Storm Shadow in a report, so he can't totally fault her for bringing it up.

With the receptionist cleaning up her area, he reaches and grabs a legal pad before writing on it. 'Not charades. Sign language.' Then he holds it up for her to see.

Not that Darcy has clearance to read said reports. She just supplies the file folders and paper clips. But as the tension seems to be fading, Darcy rolls with the lack of punches and watches Snake Eyes write his message. Her lips curl up in a huge smile as she takes the pen from him and hunches over said legal pad, which she takes from his hands without asking. When her scribbles are done, she's circles 'Charades' and wrote a single word under it: SARCASM. She holds up her new sign proudly.

"Here's your sign, and your pen. Wanna walk me to my dungeon?" she asks while Agent Latte continues cleaning.

Snake-Eyes takes the pad back from her. Ripping out the sheet of paper, he tosses it and writes 'Do you want to end up over the table again?'. Tone of voice is so hard in the whole idea of writing. And he's not one of those internet people who throw smileys around like a whoa.

However, at her request of being escorted to her office, he figures it's the least he can do for the woman that he nearly gave a Colombian neck-tie to as he tears out the sheet of paper to throw away and leaves the pad and pen with the receptionist desk, and gestures for her to lead the way.

Darcy reads the new message. By the way her lips curl up and her eyes glint with mischief she is TOTALLY one of those who Talk in Emoji.

"Wow. Not even going to offer me dinner first," she quips, before leveling a wink. "I like your style," she adds with a bold brashness that is not sensual in the slightest. It's just put out there. Take it or leave it, love it or hate it, Darcy doesn't really care. Behold her field of fucks. It is barrien. She collects the pad and pen and offers it back.

"I sorta control Office Supplies. So, I'll send her a new one," Darcy explains. Because this is a good way to chat with someone who doesn't talk but can write. "Unless you want to give me your number and we can do that whole awkward text and walk thing." Because writing and walking isn't awkward to Darcy.

Oh. Right. SHIELD gave him a new toy. Snake-Eyes sometimes forgets about it, as often as he's been on his own. Lifting his right arm, he lifts a cover on his wrist and exposes a small screen and keyboard. It's not the newest technology out there, but it's made to be rugged considering who it's attached to. He presses a button on the side of it, and Darcy will feel a vibration from her SHIELD issued phone as he automatically syncs with it. That should be a lot more helpful.

It's not much of a keyboard, as a pair buttons. Darcy may be old enough to recognize what he's doing, but he's taping Morse code instead of searching and pecking letters. As he does, the Morse code is translated to text and shows up on her phone. 'Didn't realize I needed to offer dinner before trying to kill you.' he points out as he walks with the woman down the hallway, apparently his field of fucks is as barren as his featureless face mask.

With the wrist com key board thing being shown, Darcy tosses the pad and pen to the counter and moves to loop an arm through his elbow. Because nothing creates buds like near-death experiences. She tugs out her phone, walking without any hurry as she waits for the first message. Her thumb glides alog the unlock pattern and she reads the messages.

"A sweet evening's repast before so sweet a little death, my good sir. A way to a girl's panties is through her stomach. I'm a chocolate fan. Tequila makes me a sloppy lay, and that's no fun unless you're into that. At which point I'll have to like never see you again, which would be a shame. I mean, I'm assuming you're cute AF under that mask, because I like your personality," Darcy retorts, grinning the whole way.

It's going to take more than some compliments and empty promises to get that mask off of him. While Darcy talks, Snake-Eyes tilts his head as he taps. 'Just assumed you went commando to save yourself the trouble.' Apparently this isn't the first time he's had to deal with the flirtatious and blunt as he allows the looped arm for now as he allows her to lead the way towards her office.

'I'm sure you make all your boyfriends very proud, Agent Lewis.' he taps out, with a tilt of his head that may convey amusement as he continues their leisurely stroll.

"The one day I wear underpants," Darcy seems to grouse as she reads the first message, chuckling into Snake's side as she walks with him. Reading the next message, and she almost cackles.

"Girlfriends too. I don't discriminate," she adds as she leads the way into the not-for-impoprtant people part of the building.

"And please. Call me Darcy or Darce or Sass or Tazer Queen or Mistress or Beautiful. Agent Lewis is just so stuffy…"

'Military assets are supposed to be stuffy'. Snake-Eyes points out with a text. It even shows on his ID. Much like a pistol or a car, he's listed as a special asset. He could be a robot, after all. A faceless LMD. Or some strange attempt at AI by SHIELD to create their own super-soldier. Only his barber knows for sure. Too bad he's dead.

'I'll save the more personal names for your future mistakes.' he adds. Apparently he gives as good as she gives as they continue into the less secure areas of the facility and he takes it in. Usually the ninja is up in the upper more combat oriented areas.

Darcy huffs at the first text, eyes rolling. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he seems to grump before reading the next text as she turns down the hall that seems almost completely forgotten. One light flickers. The duct work's exposed. The raw brick is visible. Darcy grins.

"Woo. A second date. I'm down for tacos or coney dogs. Or pizza," she quips as she stops in front of a door that looks like it belongs to a janitor's supply closet, not an office.

'Or tacos with corney dogs.' Snake-Eyes couldn't resist the obvious quip that she laid out so nicely for him. As they arrive at her office, or perhaps her sex dungeon or so combination of the two, he pauses as she does at the door. He lifts a finger and presses the combat glove against her painted, oh too kissably plump lips.

And then he steps away from her, untangling his arm. 'Already married to my job.' he taps out. No second date for her, not even a good first date. But hey, it's not the first time someone's said no, right?

Darcy's eyes flit to her phone as she reads the first new message. Her lips purses out on the start of a grin only for Snake to press his gloved finger to them. The motion holds her silent as he untangles himself and her phone chirps his next message. She looks down and reads, then smiles. The wicked flirting is gone. Replaced with just a girl, smiling at having had a rather fun bit of banter. It's a twinge bittersweet that this is likely the end of the conversation, but she gracefully concedes to the fact.

"All the good ones are taken. Just my luck. Thanks for waking me. These SHIELD halls are oh-so dangerous. Girl shouldn't be walking around alone," she says, looking up at that expressionless mask, searching her own expression.

"If you ever need stapler-chucks, you know where I am," she says, head tilting with the unspoken question: Can we hang out again sometime; this was fun.

He's still new, finding his bearings. Not ready to leap into anything yet as he offers a faint nod of his head, perhaps he has wicked mind-reading ninja powers.

Or perhaps he realizes when he just kicked a happy puppy and made it all sad-eyes at him.

'I hear that my handler, Agent Carter, is powerful with the stapler-fu. Perhaps she could use them.' It's a light tease, meant to rebolster her spirit for now. There's many layers to the ninja, besides all the armor and cloth. And it'll just take time to figure it all out.

With that, he steps back, offering a bow to her, before he turns to head towards the more secure areas of the base.

Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave. Or something.

With pants that tight? Hell yes.

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