1050/Moose Sighting

Moose Sighting
Date of Scene:	19 June 2017
Location:	The Triskelion, NYC
Synopsis:	Darcy Lewis and Melinda May touch base with Sam and start clarifying more of what it might mean to work with SHIELD.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Winchester, Darcy Lewis, Melinda May

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Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester is not so banged up today that he needs a bed. Instead, he's in one of the examination rooms. He sits in his jeans, bandages wrapped so tightly around his torso that the fact that he's not wearing a shirt today is pretty much the opposite of exciting. It is, however, possible to see the flaming pentacle tattoo on his upper left abdomen. His right arm is broken, in a cast.

A SHIELD drone robot hovers over him, poking at him and doing //something// which he has been assured will speed up his healing times. Little zaps of little lasers scanning deep into his skin through bandages and casts. He has no idea what it's doing. The Doc loftily assured him he wasn't capable of understanding. He'd lifted his eyebrows and then had consented anyway.

On his left knee, a tablet. He awkwardly balances it as some sort of program runs through a bunch of faces. Brown haired men, mostly military, mostly from a certain era. He's tapping some of them, saving them, putting them in a file to e-mail to himself later. It's an awkward exercise. Tablets were meant to be used with two hands. But...he manages all the same.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"You are a fucking pain in the ass to find when you wanna be and we're not sticking paperclips up your nose," Darcy says the moment she spots Sam, barging in. Her own tablet is tucked under an arm, the case making it look like a little book.

With a skull on it. A skull that's wearing a pink rhinestone helmet and has purple rhinestone ponytail with white hair bows. Darcy moves right over to Sam, skirting around the robot as she looks at the case and tha bandages and the oooh boy's got ink. HAWT.

"This was not there last time, was it?" she asks, the bruising on her throat faded and gone by now. Only the faintest yellow remains along the worst of it.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam saves his work and shuts the tablet off, putting it aside. His features reassemble themselves into something mildly amused and maybe a /little/ smug. Hard to tail, is he? Good. "I'm right here," is what he politely points out instead, as if he had simply been waiting patiently all along for Darcy to find him in the world's largest game of hide-n-go-seek. But her question, 'this was not there last time,' produces some confusion.

"What wasn't there?"

And then, "And what did you need to find me for? Another assignment?"

His hazel eyes take in that little skull. His mouth quirks. For just the tiniest of moments. "You really are the least fed-like Fed I've ever seen," he comments.

His own throat is a mess of bruises too, as is everything that disappears into the bandages. Even that tattoo is pretty beat up.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Yes. Yes you are. Right where I left you. Why didn't I think to look here first? Oh, wait. I did. Pain in the ass," Darcy repeats again, though there's a very warm smirking grin on her lips as she speaks. The question back as a 'dodge' just has Darcy rolling her eyes before she leans herself on the bed next to Sam, eyes on what the robot is doing.

"Nope. Came by because Momma May was worried about you. I was too, but you're a big boy and can take care of yourself. But May was like worried stupid sick. And I am SO not a fed-Fed. I'm a poli-sci major that interned for an astrophysists but she was the only one taking hires. No serious 'scientist' wanted to get mixed up in the search for a bridge into outerspace... but then a Norse god fell out of the sky and she ran him over with her car," Darcy says on a shrug, because that was just another weird thing about her life and there's no use in trying to make any of it sound normal.

It doesn't help.

"Plus, SHIELD agents are le suck for clearing ALL innocent by-standers. I fucking cleared the pet shop myself, thankyouveryfuckingmuch. What's up with your throat?"

Sam Winchester has posed:
Well. The good news about talking to one Sam Winchester is?

It all sounds pretty normal to /him/. He takes that right in stride, like it's nothing. Sounds like another Tuesday to Sam, really.

Sam's lips quirk as she describes clearing the pet shop. "Wait, some sort of crazy town threatening thing is going down and you went and brought out all the puppies and kittens by hand? That's sweet."

He shakes his head, on the question of his throat. "The usual, a hunt got a little hairy. I'm usually sporting something or another, Darcy. It's just the nature of the job. The paid jobs are nice, but I'm not waiting around for them, you know? There's always someone out there who needs some help. Though thank you very much, or SHIELD, or Sheila in accounting, or whomever was responsible for that swift payment on the embassy job. It came in handy."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
It IS another Tuesday, isn't it? What's up for Thursday? Oh, right. Tazing Thor. Because Thor's Day.

Darcy smiles and nods.

"And bitched every last SHIELD Agent out as I did it. Mostly by name. I made have made some of them up that day, but after I got hired, I gave them a piece of my mind," Darcy replies, head tilting faintly as her eyes trail back up to Sam's face.

"Hmm... yeah. I hate it when an op goes sidewise. You had some quick thinking at the Embassy, so kudos. Yeah. it was either Sheila or Fred. I'll send them a thank you card from you, if you like. Fred likes glazed doughnuts," she says.

"Did you check to make sure they gave you Combat Pay? Or Haz-Bonus? It's not in your regular contract to take bullets and shit for people, but if you do, you need to get comp'd for it. And if you let me know about the kinds of things you're working on soon as you know, I can see if WAND's got something for it... and if I can code it properly with HR, maybe you can get paid for that too?"

Sam Winchester has posed:
On the matter of her compliments he demurres, smiling a little but not addressing them. "I don't actually know," he admits. He digs a crumpled statement out of his pocket and passes it to her. "This is what they gave me, but like the reasons for every itemized payment are all in code?"

But she presents an intriuging idea. He turns it over in his mind. Of course, it's a worm with a hook in it, because if he's putting hunts on the books he's also keeping SHIELD 100% appraised of most of what he is doing. But that's not the worst thing ever in some cases. So he says, "I'm on the trail of an underground auction house that might be selling cursed artifacts. I've already partially destroyed one. There are other hunters on that, people who won't be happy to see the government show up. I don't want them on SHIELD's radar unless they want to be. I'm willing to share the information and certainly willing to say something if we're getting in over our head, but..."

He spreads his good hand. "Most hunters are deep underground, you know?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Hmm. Damn those bean counters," Darcy quips, taking the crumpled paystub, setting her tablet side and opening it up to look at it. As Sam talking about what he's up to, Darcy reads the codes from Accounts Payable, grumping faintly.

"Fuckers didn't put Haz Pay in. I'll email the form to fill out, with the right incident number on it. Allyou have to do is type in what happened... I got stabbed you fuckers... and send it back. I'll get your medical records attached and to May for a fast track approval so Accouting can send you the extra before month's out," Darcy says with a grouse at Fred and Sheila in her voice.

"Yeah. I get that. If you need help looking up artfacts, though, you can talk to Croft. She's like bomb diggy with that shit. And yeah, I get them being like deep underground and not wanting to see the light of day, little fuckign cockaroaches. Still... you're part of the team now. And you're my puppy. I have adopted you, so if you're stuck in a pet store with a giant death robot tearing up the town..." IE: Call for SHIELD backup, Darcy's number. She's got May and peeps on fucking speed dial, yo!

Sam Winchester has posed:
"I got stabbed you fuckers," Sam repeats, his eyes starting to warm with very real amusement. "I'll put it exactly that way. Word for word. I'm glad I'm learning how to speak Government the right way."

But he sobers, despite his gentle teasing. "Thanks, Darcy. I appreciate you looking out for me this way."

His eyebrows lift a little as she calls him her /puppy/ though. And widens. He clears his throat. And /now/ he gets the 'just what did I get myself into again?' look on his face. He clears his throat again. Ahem! Mmm.

The many faces of 'Whut'.

"So Croft's a member of WAND too? Who else is on the team?" This is as good a time as any to learn more about SHIELD. He supposes, loner that he's become, he hasn't done a great job of integrating. He was reluctant, out of long habit, to even come and get medical care. Then he imagined May's stern, exasperated face, motherly even though most people would just read 'flat.' Sam knows what he saw.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Not me. May. I told you. Momma May was worried. She sent me. Clearly, I'm the more intimadting one of the two of us," Darcy corrects Sam with a waggle of finger. She just winks at his 'learning to speak Government'.

"My pleasure, Sam Winchespup," she adds. Because THAT shit's gonna be hilarious! Darcy collects her tablet to start getting Sam's PAY ME HAZ PAY ASSHATS email ready, looking at the stub to get the right paycheck number for the file.

"Mmhmm... I'd have to look up the roster. May could totally probably rattle off everyone's name and IDs numbers if you asked her," Darcy says smoothly as she types. Because can multitask goddess. Thor, God of Thunder. Darcy, Goddess of Multitasking.

Melinda May has posed:
One might suspect she's related to Bloody Mary. Or maybe Betelgeuse. Because May's name is mentioned three times and mere seconds later she's stepping through the door almost noiselessly. Is anyone NOT facing the door? She bets that Darcy isn't, because she's not learned that. Yet. And if she's not, she deserves this.

"Lewis. Winchester." Said directly behind the younger brunette as if trying to see how badly she'll startle.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam is, perched on the examination table like he is. "Agent May," he says politely, inclining his head to her. The little drone continues to poke and prod at his broken arm, and he says apologetically, "I hope I haven't overstepped. You said I could use this facility but I didn't get this arm-- " or those broken ribs, or those bruises, "on a SHIELD sanctioned hunt. It seemed to be okay when I checked in with the doctors."

He glances at Darcy as she pokes at the bean counters, but decides Darcy would have said it was totally cool no matter what, that really she just needed to send the right grumpy email to the right person and it would all be fine.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"HOLY GOAT SUCKING BABY JESUS!" Darcy exclaims as May says her name. The mostly administrative agent has not, no, completely learned the 'always keep an eye on doorways' trick and so May sneaking up makes her leap a bit off where she was leaning hte bed next to Sam. The tablet getting fumbled and juggled and then clasped to chest with Darcy hunched over it. She looks up from saving her tablet from a clattering dismise on the floor and smiles at May.

"Look, Ma! I found him!"

Melinda May has posed:
"Why did you misplace him to begin with?" Wait, did May just attempt a JOKE? She steps around Darcy to a nearby table to set a canvas bag on it. "Sam, that was one of the reasons why I strongly advised you to accept the consultant contract." That and now that SHIELD Medical has a baseline for the young man on file, it's only too easy to tell exactly how many old injuries his bones reveal -- more than even her own. And in May's estimation that is far, far too many for someone so young.

"Where is your brother?" Because as worrisome as the younger brother's habits are, he had to have learned them somewhere. And that means that Dean is likely even worse about attracting trouble than Sam is.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Dean has attracted surprisingly little. "Uh. At his girlfriend's apartment, I think," Sam admits. "We check in, and have regular schedules, but not like we used to. We aren't always even hunting together. He has his girlfriend now, and uh, well, we both hunted on our own for a good year before finding each other again, so...your guess is as good as mine. I don't think he'll take advantage of this unless he's dying, Agent May. He's-- I mean he's still not really sold on it. He did it for me, more than anything else."

The joke might have been funny, especially coming from Agent May, if they weren't both talking about him just a little bit like he really is a lost, stray puppy. As it is, what happens is he mostly allows himself a small sigh, tolerant but a little aggrieved.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Dude! Really?" Darcy quips at May's joke, fighint not to smirk and failing. Straightening, Darcy turns to put the tablet on the bed next to Sam so she can keep typing on it and fix the chest-smash fuck up she made on the email.

"IE: He's getting some," Darcy translates, even though no one asked her.

Melinda May has posed:
May accepts Sam's answer readily enough and also doesn't follow the lost puppy thread any farther. The sigh was enough of a clue to drop it. So, she starts a completely different discussion, one that does not involve lost Winchesters or injuries.

"Have you encountered anything that you feel warrants further WAND investigation?" If so, she'll need to make sure it gets reported to the proper people. Like Croft and her superiors.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam contemplates that. "I was telling Darcy here that I have launched an investigation into a rogue auction house selling cursed artifacts. But...other hunters are on it, and I'm a little concerned about bringing them to SHIELD's attention. You guys have been great, but...it's kind of a thing, you know, not outing other hunters or blowing their covers to official types. At the same time, I don't know how big this is yet. If a bunch of hunters can shut it down in a night or two, great. If there's horrible stuff getting peddaled all the way up and down the Eastern seaboard, it might be smart to pull all the stops."

He winces, and grimaces. "I...really don't know how to navigate these relationships, and do the right thing by everyone here, Agent May. I can give you all my own secrets at my own will, but other people's, people who are just out there trying to help other people? I'm not sure. And it's important to me. Doing the right thing."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Email sent, Darcy looks over to May. Because she's not sure how to either. Not really. After all, she flies by the seat of her butt-pads most of the time anyway. But it's clear, she wants to help her Sam-pupper.

"Is there a way to get involved without Getting Involved?" she says.

Melinda May has posed:
"No," May tells Darcy.

"Sam, we can't ask you to compromise your contacts. I feel like I shouldn't, but I'm going to trust your judgement on when you feel it's time to call in WAND or SHIELD support for your investigation. In exchange, I ask that any artifacts you manage to recover be given to WAND for proper containment or destruction."

She finally reaches into the bag and pulls out a food container. "Lewis, a reminder. I am not a waitress." Nevertheless, she offers the container across to Darcy.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam considers that. "There's one I think I could bring to you now, if my contact is done examining it. It doesn't seem very safe to keep around, and I don't know that they have the facilities to keep it safe. I can tell them I have someone who can dispose of it. I mean I /shot/ it, so it's not as big of a threat as it was when I found it. Oh wow, you guys probably have a real vault! I don't even have to buy and ward up a storage room."

The thought seems to cheer him immensely, and he realizes he can also give them something.

"Hey uh, if you want, I've got a whole boatload of dangerous stuff stored in a vault in St. Louis. It was nicely centrally located. Well. Storage room. It's a U-Haul place. But there's a year's worth of haul there, stuff I just warded and shoved in there. I can give you the address and the key, SHIELD is welcome to go get it. I sure don't want any of it."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Ohmygolaalalaaanom-" Darcy's noises turn into gurgles as she reaches for the bag only for mouth noises to cut off in a whine as she pulls out tacos.

"Thanks, May," Darcy beams happily after she has her Moment of Disappointment(TM). She unwraps and offers one to Sam.

"Want? I forgot to eat lunch," she says then ooohs at the haul. Her eyes cut to May.

"Want I get the paperwork for Croft and whomever she wants on that?" beat. "WAND Roadtrip! QUick, someone sing the Magica Schoolbus themesong!"

Melinda May has posed:
May somehow manages to NOT roll her eyes at the reaction to the food and the Magic School Buss comment. "Yes, please inform Agent Croft. Sam, if she asks you to accompany her team to retrieve the items, will you be all right with doing so?" She leaves the still not empty bag on the table as she steps around to where Sam can address her without having to crane his neck to see around Darcy.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Oh sure, of course," Sam says with a nod of his head. "It's not all really catolouged, and really I'm going to need to either go or send you guys with about a pint of my blood so you can get past the wards that will only open for me or one of my blood relatives."

Him or Dean or his Dad, presumably.

"Not," he hastens to say, as if concerned about offending, "that Agent Croft isn't very good at defeating all kinds of wards, if she is, but I mean why go through the hassle if you've got the means to defeat the blood lock without getting crazy about it?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Taco offering not taken, Darcy noms into it as she listens to the two talk. Blood locks, Sam on team as Keymaster. Got it, Boss! Darcy starts a new email: Dear Croft...

While eating a taco. Because taco.