656/SHIELD's Not Done With You Yet

SHIELD's Not Done With You Yet
Date of Scene:	29 May 2017
Location:	Chinatown, NYC
Synopsis:	SHIELD cleverly plants a tracker on one Sam Winchester in the form of a paperclip, which means Sam leads May and Darcy straight to Dean.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Darcy Lewis, Melinda May

---

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester walked out of the Triskelion with a stack of paperwork, his copy of his father's journal, all of his weapons, and...and a passle of questions.

He'd actually stood out there on the street looking a bit bewildered and poleaxed for all of ten minutes or so before blowing out his cheeks and starting a series of reasonable precautions as he saw them.

He took a cab to a bus stop.

He took the bus back to the bus station.

He took a train from the bus station into Hell's Kitchen.

He took a cab from Hell's Kitchen into China Town.

He hasn't been back near the little car he finally bought for himself, with stolen money, sure, but it's a legitimate Sam Winchester car, because he's realized they're operating in the same space far too much for him to be running around in a stolen car. It just seems unwise. But he won't go back to it yet.

All of this, of course, takes hours. Eventually he settles down in a China Town restaurant, where he orders a green tea and not much else. He's exhausted.

He picks up the phone and calls his brother. From a burner that he picked up at a convenience store, having ditched, during these twists and turns, every phone on his person, figuring they were all bugged.

His voice might even sound a little small, despite the deep tones that he speaks in, reminiscent of an exhausted twelve year old who might have made similar calls in the past.

"Dean? I'm at Three Dragons Wild in China Town. Could...could you come pick me up, please?"

He doesn't really look great, sitting there. A few days ago a demon clawed the side of his face, a detail the SHIELD agents might have caught...three deep lines under his left cheekbone. His face is dirty and bruised from the fight he had with May; he's so rattled he didn't even think to go wash it off. His clothes are rumpled and dirty too. A bit, again, like when he was twelve, and got into it with some bullies at some school.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean was at what could be considered his 'apartment' at the time. Lounging in jeans, beer in his hand, scrolling through... Erm. Something on the laptop. Research. Really. Ahem. He rolls his eyes a little when he picks up his phone, "Dude where the hell-..." Though at his brother's tone he sits up sharply, his expression going serious. "Sit tight."

Snapping his phone shut, it doesn't take him long to get dressed, drain the rest of his beer (No party fouls allowed!) - and does take an extra second to lock his laptop before stashing it atop a closet.

Don't ask.

A little later, the familiar rumble of the Impala might be heard in the quieter area as he comes to part a couple doors down from the meeting place. Turning it off and stepping out- he goes to walk into the establishment, that darker look on his features. "Looks like you lost a hell of a cat-fight, man. What happened?" Jokes aside, he is concerned.

For the record- With his brother's tone, he is armed to the teeth. A sidearm at his hip in his jeans with an extra mag in an inside pocket to his coat. Several items such as salt and silver dust bags, knives, etc, are hidden throughout the inner layer of his coat- specially tailored to hide a small arsenal.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy got the call that May needed help tracking down a potential recruit for WAND. In Chinatown. Darcy LOVES Chinatown. The food was the best. Oweing to the hour, Darcy had just gotten out of practice, so she heads straight over to where the GPS ping file said her mark, Sam Winchester, was located. The mission was clear: Prevent Rabbit, Don't Freak Out More than Usual.

Because government agency, right? Right. SHIELD needs to get the stick out of its ass some days.

So, in unlaced, heavily duct taped, army surplus combat boots she bought in high school, torn fishnets under even more torn leggings, under a bright red pleated school girl skirt that matches her lips, with an o-ring belt on her hips and a t-shirt that was clearly attacked by scissors and then tied back together to look like a spine on the back and up the front from hem to underbust line sleeves gone, Darcy makes her way into the chinese restaurant. She'd sent May a message as she approached the location: Mom! I want sweet and sour chicken and fried rice and lo mien noodles and eggrolls and pot stickers! OMG the pot stickers May for fucking real I tneed them in my life in my mouth! :O <-

Darcy scans the restaurant, sees Sam and notSam, and makes her way over. She's got an athletic bag over her shoulder. It's lumpy and full, with a skating helmet dangling from a strap. It's surface is painted with a decal that reads: Tazer Queen 68iou1.

Maybe she's headed for the table just past them?

Melinda May has posed:
By the time the rumble of a late sixties vintage V8 can be heard inside the San zhi ye lóng restaurant, Agent May has caught up with both Agent Lewis and Winchester. To hopefully keep from further spooking the kid, she entered from the back of the restaurant hopefully out of the kid's line of sight and only faintly sighed as she ordered the foods Darcy listed in her text message, as well as a couple of extra dishes -- she could tell that Sam didn't once even consider stopping to eat. Placing the order in fluent Cantonese likely helps keep her from being noticed too soon, as does waiting by the counter for the food to be ready.

Just as Darcy flounces into the place sticking out like a red bikini at a funeral, she accepts the help of the little old lady behind the counter in carrying the food over. She approaches from behind the newly arrived man and slides a heaping dish of fried rice onto their table, quickly followed by an empty cup and a ceramic pot of the same green tea that Sam's been nursing the whole time.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam's eyes flick to Tazer Queen 68iou1, but they're soon right back on Dean. Another person speaking Cantonese and ordering food? Does not, indeed, even register. When an experienced spy doesn't want to be noticed 21-year old Hunter Sammy doesn't stand a chance.

He grimaces, and then finally he lowers his voice and says, "SHIELD happened. Like they arrested me. Today. And then they let me go. And then they offered a job. Consulting. I have all the paperwork. Might be nice to get a paycheck for this stuff and be legitimate. But I don't know, they're overly interested in you,"

(They asked ONE question about Dean, but it has, in Sam's mind, taken on epic proportions of PROTECT DEAN, thus turning into a vision of them compiling entire dossiers in which they find ways to both screw his brother over and //take him away// again)

"And I just don't know," he says, again.

It's not like they haven't been arrested before, but...SHIELD is a bit of a level of magnitude higher than some backwater Sherrif with a bad attitude. The former? Rolls right off Sam Winchester. The latter...

Not so much. And if he knew the level of facial recognition and other technologies SHIELD has at its disposal, all more than capable of tanking his carefully conducted precautions? He'd probably be even //more// freaked out than he already is.

Dean Winchester has posed:
For one- the Winchester brothers have been taught how to be invisible and live on the fringe of life since they were kids. They exist, but don't exist- but none of the crazy spy stuff. They just... avoid 'literal' ties like bad breath.

Dean doesn't sit down when he is told that. His hand rests on the back of the chair, staring at Sam. His brother might even see the utter urge to want to punch his little brother in the nose right now, but he is instantly on ultra paranoid alert.

A look towards the approaching (Or passing?) Darcy, without even the slightly lascivous look. The order at the counter taken for what it is given the area.

Not t omention in his head he is screaming at his brother: You escape from these kinds of people and you find somewhere public to bring someone that has obvious interest in him? Really dude?

Even as the internal war continues, the dark look on his face does not waiver. "Come again?" Is all he can manage- somewhere between anger and disbelief.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy gets to the table just ahead of May with the food, looking like that was timed. With a loud thump, she drops her bag to the floor in easy view of Dean. The top is unzipped, revealing clothes (socks, bright green leg warmers, knees that read '187', and roller skates. Then, she drops herself uncermoniously to the booth next to Sam, and reaches for the first plate only for the old lady to intercept her with more plates.. One entree of each thing she had text-ordered.

Darcy looks at it, and then up at May, who's putting down the tea.

"Fuck my life, May. For the love of Sweet Monkey Jesus! I meant The chicken WITH fried.. not each thing. You know what? You're paying for this, so I don't give a shit," she states, like this was just another meeting with some friends. She turns to Dean and with a sweet smile says, "Can we eat first? I need to refuel before pulling an all-nighter." She winks as she looks over the food.

"And I completely agree 'SHIELD happens'. I found making 'em hit the fan is a fucking fun as hell past time. Right, May? See! That's totally her 'Agreeing with Darcy' face. I'm Darcy, by the way. Nice to meet you. Fuck. I'm thirsty as hell."

What is personal space? Can you eat it?

Melinda May has posed:
No, the look on May's face is a 'could you be any more obnoxious?' micro-expression. But really, she's paying the majority of her attention to Dean since she's standing almost directly next to him while the table keeps getting more and more piles of food added to it. Darcy might recognize her lack of visible tension -- she is fully prepared to fight.

Of course, Darcy's vociferous blather is likely (hopefully) doing the exact kind of distracting that's needed for this situation, so she doesn't immediately speak up. And she silently hopes they won't have to take it outside. She hasn't eaten in several hours either.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Dean is pissed at him.

Sometimes, when Dean is pissed? Sam gets defensive and angry right back. Sometimes, though, he just crumples a little bit. His shoulders slump, he looks down, he looks exhausted and just exactly like he looked when he accidentally dumped all the milk on the floor when he was 6 and tried to let Dean sleep and feed himself...nevermind that Dad was 180 miles up the road and hadn't left them enough money to get any more food. Today has been the kind of day for this response, and he mumbles, "They caught me hunting something."

He knows he really messed up. "I took a lot of precautions to ditch pursuit, but we should probably just go in the car and talk more..."

Darcy plops right down next to Sam, pinning him in the booth.

He nearly jumps out of his skin. His eyes go wide, he half turns towards her, his hands raise defensively. "A lot...of...precautions..."

And Sudden May.

His eyes cut sidelong. Bewilderment briefly rockets over his expressive face. It's an expression that says 'WTF Food Mountain.'

He clears his throat. "Um. Agent May."

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. Yes, Sam messed up- but so did Dean about a year ago. He paid for his harshly. At least he is here to help Sam out of-.... Oh fuck.

Before he can even answer his brother, there is that girl that walked by. And .. Agent? His eyes cut to May harshly, his anger boiling there for what they did to his brother.

"You know what? I don't care what the hell you wanted to try and get out of Sam, but that is no fucking reason to kick a man when he's already down." Dean is giving them one chance to let him peacefully get his brother out of here.

He is tense- but his protective nature is in overdrive and his brother is currently cornered... And scared? He's rarely ever seen him so jumpy. Its almost like they are kids again and Dean is bucking up to bulleys. "You are going to let me get him out of here- in one piece- without you pains in the ass stuck up our tailpipe. Capeesh?"

His free hand is lingering near the hip with his gun, just in case- the other on the back of the chair, but ready to move in a variety of ways to 'disrupt' the scene if he has to. Throw the chair.. kick the table at Darcy. He doesn't care- he's getting Sam out of here. He'll be annoyed later.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Eat a pot sticker. They are fucking sex in your mouth and alalalalamamamammmaaa," Darcy smiles into Sam's face holding up the plate of pot stickers. The non-sensical word? Not a word. Mouth sounds of gurgling quasi-foodorgasmic bliss. And then Dean is getting into May's face. Darcy looks over at the pair, brows lifting high. She leans toward Sam, as if she were going to whisper, but this is Darcy. She's got the subtly of a god of thunder. Sometimes.

"It's a pissing contest. It would be more awesoem to walk them play strip poker." Pause. "Not clothes, you sick fuck! That's my SO, thank you. Nono. Concealed weapons, strip poker. I would lose, because I always show up naked." She leans away from Sam then, looking at Dean.

"Dude. Don't do my girl like that. She only kicks 'em when they're kicking back." Then to May.

"May. Don't kick puppies. There are rules. Mine is pants. Yours is no puppies." She looks back at Sam, offering the pot stickers with one hand, taking one to shove into her mouth with the other.

"Haff wunmmomomom."

Dean Winchester has posed:
While Dean was gearing up to snap back at Darcy- He pauses, staring between the two. The hand lifts from the chair to point between the two women. "Girlfriends?" He can't help but smirk at Sam: "You got your ass handed to you by lesbians?!"

Melinda May has posed:
May looks up at Dean squarely -- yes, she's easily six inches shorter than him -- and seemingly as calmly as a Vulcan in a Philatelic Society convention. Despite any of Darcy's over the top behavior, she simply says to the still very angry young man glaring at her, "You're right, I am. But I also know for a fact that Sam hasn't eaten anything in at least four hours. Are you going to give him a chance to eat, or drag him out of here right now?"

It likely doesn't help that a few of the other patrons are now staring. At least the little old lady from behind the counter is completely unruffled as she returns, walks right between the two staring each other down, and plunks a glass of water and two glasses of soda on the table before moving off again. She is even shorter than May.

At Dean's outburst, May finally shows an actual emotion: exasperation. It's accompanied by an eyeroll. "No. Superior officer. Now, if you'd like to sit down and eat something?" She gestures toward the table and the piles of food waiting for them.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Eat a pot sticker. Sex in your mouth. That's my SO. Significant other? Yes, he has the same thought as Dean who just...voices it and...

"Dean!"

Nobody is mentally prepared for the Sudden Darcy Train, least of all Sam. Darcy just holds out a potsticker; reflexive politeness means that one is suddenly in Sam's hand before he knows what to make of it or himself.

Dean is ready to get him out of there, so he doesn't eat, though his stomach does let out an impressive Moosey Rumble. She calls him a Puppy and he does a slightly offended double take, his face settling into the Lines of Epic Irritation that he's so good at conveying, epic irritation which briefly washes the jumpiness away.

Because now Dean is smirking at him for getting his ass kicked by lesbians and one of them thinks he's a puppy and...

You know what?

Screw it.

He takes a big grumpy bite of the potsticker. Somehow, that whole deal has just diffused the tension utterly, both in him and Dean, it seems. And May is trying to...mother him? Look out for his eating habits? This is just too weird. It's all just too terribly weird.

He might as well have...

"Holy-- these really are like sex in your mouth," he says, before he can stop himself.

Dean Winchester has posed:
When May turns to mothering, Dean bucks up to her, straightening as that previous humor falls away. "Eating in peace would be nice, which means you and your little girl there step on and leave us alone. No one invited you to join us." He's still in the total 'Go the fuck away' mode.

There is an eyeroll at Sam's comment about the food- but it is what it is. The man needs to eat. Dean pulls his chair out and pulls it to the side, sitting where his back is ore to the wall, facing along the length of the table so the May-bitch can't surprise him.

He's still on alert- and more pissed off at the women than anything. Invading privacy. He hates that. Well. Their privacy. He breaks into houses and cons people... Odd sense of morality, sometimes.

"He can eat without you holding his hand, so what the hell do you two want?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Awww, May!! Killjoy! I wanted to see how long it took them. Fuck, you are absolutely no fun. And why you hired me. I'm the pary. She's the Ninja Nanny," Darcy starts OFF chiding her superior officer and goes right into lack-of-brain-to-mouth-filter ramble. She leans toward Sam, smirking on another really too loud stage whisper.

"She babysits the ninjas. Do you know how hard it is to get them to NOT go out in public in their jammies? Fucking impossible!" She giggles as Sam chides Dean and when he bites in the the pot sex-in-your-mouth she beams!

"I know, right!!" And Darcy finishes her pot sticker while reaching over Sam's lap for the soy sauce, because personal space is over rated.

"Here, try wiff dis," she tells Moosepuppy as Dean tries to continue with go the fuck away.

"Dude. Rude. I fucking invited me," she quips, reaching for a soda to press into Sam's hand (what, she heard he hadn't eaten in hours and that's just criminal!) before getting the water for herself and slurping.

"Well, I'd like a million dollars, and my student loans paid off for me, and a new car... ohmygod I want Coulson's car. MAY! Have you fucking SEEN Lola!? Jesus Christ in a gay bar, the things I want to do to that-"

Melinda May has posed:
So he's angry AND offended. May still seems mostly unperturbed... right up until the word 'Lola' comes out of Darcy's mouth. Her attention snaps away from Dean toward Darcy, and she is glaring at the boisterous young woman darkly. "Do NOT talk about Lola that way." Okay, so apparently May has something she's dangerously protective about as well. Though... is it this Lola, or is it something/someone else?

Even though Dean has chosen to sit finally, she's still standing by the table. And at this rate, she's debating claiming a single egg roll from the veritable feast and leaving again to let them eat in relative peace. She'll get something from the Triskelion commissary when she gets back there.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam is just now completely overwhelmed.

Darcy tells him to try wiff diss, and he does, nodding in approval. The situation is getting tense, and finally his own natural equinamity, his need to be polite and kind, overrides all the fear, all the tension, all of it.

"Please join us, Agent May, it's only right, since you two brought all the food. I guess we might as well eat, Dean, and hear them out. If they went to all the trouble of following me after all the trouble I went through to not be followed-- " He names whatever Marine code translates to the number and level of precautions he in fact took, or whatever Dad code that actually was...

"Then I mean...getting out of here won't do much good. We're not in handcuffs or in a cell," this time, his voice says, "and um. It's food you'll probably like."

He's aware this might push Dean right back into being pissed off at him. But...well. There's just no month that goes by that a conflict of some sort isn't going to arise between them. He supposes it's inevitable that this month? It's going to be this thing. They haven't even addressed all the issues still churning, their issues about abandonment, their father, and what happened to each of them when they separated. But it doesn't matter, because they have each other //now//...no matter what. And he's remembering, now, that this is Dean, the brother who also, practically, raised him, who will always be there for him.

So if Dean needs to be mad...Sam can take it.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean did raise his brother- making him the protective older brother on a whole new level.

The mention of Lola between the women is granted a raised eyebrow and a confused look to Sam. He mouths: 'Is this chick high?'

"Yeah, you invited yourself instead of just getting that stick out of your ass and just -asking-." Dean grumps in return to Darcy. See? If they would've just asked, he wouldn't be so defensive. But forcing themselves on them is why he's shoving them away automatically.

Sam's code is noted, and he's not angry that Sam was still tailed. From what he's heard about SHIELD- he isn't surprised. Doesn't mean he's any less annoyed, but he did what he was trained and taught to do- what else could he ask for?

So now its Dean's turn. He graps a potsticker and pops it in his mouth, grumping. The grumpy face is almost forced as he does actually enjoy it, his mouth half full as he utters: "Damn."

Potsticker: 1, Pissy Dean: 0

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Shit! I fucking respected her, and I know how to treat her like the lady she is," Darcy says with her hands up in the 'please don't kill me with your straw wrapper' pose. But her lips are kicked up into a mischievous grin of: I am so going to rock that car's whole one of these days, just you watch! Her hands lower as Sam nods at the food choice, but there's something about that, the way he is just trying to be overly polite. Cute puppy!

"Well. You're not in handcuffs NOW.." Pause Darcy gives Dean a wink, because he's the overly protective one, that much is clear. "You haven't asked me nicely."

She tilts her head at Dean's grump, red lips purses.

"Hmm.. You are absolutely right! I'm going to blame May. She likes that sort of thing. So, since we're buying, can we stuff our faces with you? I just got out of practice and I am hungry as fuck and right? I think there's crack in them. But I don't care because Klondike bars got nothing on these things."

Darcy turns from the table at this point, and cups a hand over the corner of her mouth... because fuck if there are other patrons, she calls out toward the counter: "Sumi maw shen! Can have more pot stickers? Graw-see-ass!!"

Dean Winchester has posed:
Some things Dean just can't resist. To Darcy's mention of handcuffs, he gets that sly grin: "If I ask nicely, promise to bring the handcuffs?"

Oh his girl would kill him, but trying to diffuse the situation with classic Dean won't hurt, right?

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Hell yes," is Darcy's reply to Dean, grin wicked eyes dancing. She holds out a pot sticker for him, brows twitching.

If by kill you mean a little death, yes. Repeatedly. Darcy is the most non-lethal Field Agent EVER. Unless it's sass-bombs. All your sass-bombs belong to Darcy.

Melinda May has posed:
May actually takes a moment to consider Sam's invitation. Maybe for a few minutes. And in some sort of deference to Dean's still over-protective posturing, she pulls the remaining chair at the table over closer to Darcy, leaving a very clear open path for Dean to get away if he feels the need. She'd tell Darcy give Sam the same, but she's pretty sure the derbygirl turned SHIELD agent is kind of not listening to her at all anymore. That's ... not really that different from normal.

Dean and Darcy quipping at each other seems to be completely beneath her notice as she claims the empty tea mug and fills it from the teapot in the center of 'WTF Food Mountain'.

Darcy's yell across the restaurant in first Japanese then Spanish, both badly butchered, actually manages to make May wince.

Sam Winchester has posed:
For one moment...

Samuel Winchester feels this moment of empathy with Melinda May. There's some sort of weird inverse paralell going on here. May is the older, Sam is the younger. May is female, Sam is male. The same sort of flip-flopped paralell that's going on between Dean and Darcy in fact. The milder, more contained personalities alternately managing or being managed by the more gregarious and gives-less-fucks counterpart.

It's really very surreal.

He clears his throat as his brother digs himself a hole with his steady lady-friend that Sam has no energy or willingness to tackle or prevent, and decides there's only one way to handle any of this. Eat food. Get conversation on track.

"So...did you follow me in the hopes I'd lead you to Dean? Was he the one you wanted to talk to all along? Or did you want to talk to both of us? I did say I'd read all the paperwork, Agent May, but I have to know what I'm looking at-- and I have to talk to Dean, really-- before trying to make these sorts of decisions."

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean was smart enough to hide his part of Dad's journal. Version, if it were. They were both left one.

Darcy is flashed a wicked smile and a wink as he pops another potsticker in his mouth. Some things don't change. Flirting? Yeah, he can't help it. Doesn't mean he's going to bend her over the table, Sam, god man...

"Oh sit down. Your making me nervous." He reaches out a foot to kick the chair out in invitation to May. Unfortunately, they won him over with food. Don't... even say it. So he'll play nice for now.

Though Sam does have a damn good question. This time, he stares at May with a raised eyebrow.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Wicked smile for wicked smile. Flirt for flirt. Dean could bring the girlfriend along for the fun. Darcy does not discriminate. Sharing is caring. Darcy is the best fucking Carebear ever. She's Tazerheart Bear.

With Sam's question though, like Daen, Darcy goes quiet and looks over at May, brows lifted. Yes, tell us, oh great high Poomba Ninja Nanny! Because Darcy doesn't have clue one. Clue-by-four, yes. Clue One, no.

Melinda May has posed:
To business. Good. May takes a sip of the green tea before answering Sam. "Partly, it was a way to make an assessment of your skills. Better than most." She doesn't add that she's pretty sure Darcy will NEVER be capable of the level of goose chase that Sam put them to today. "Mostly, I wanted to know that you were going to give that proposal serious consideration and not just drop it into the nearest recycling bin."

Setting the mug down, she picks up a pair of chopsticks and steals the last potsticker right out of Darcy's hand like Master Shifu absconding with a dumpling. "Speaking of, hand me the clip from that paperwork, please."

She then pops the potsticker into her mouth. "Mmf. Not their best."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Melinda May! Do NOT talk about Pot Stickers that way." Darcy pouts. Because she can't muster the Vulcan look at all.

Sam Winchester has posed:
The...clip?

Sam pulls the paperwork from his jacket pocket and removes the paper...

"Damn it." He holds it up, looking for the tracking device that must surely be there, though it must also be so cleverly concealed that he'll never see it. Still...now he has his answer. He gives The Clip another one of those supremely irritated faces before he blows out his cheeks and hands it back to Melinda May.

He gives Dean an uneasy glance, then says, "No. I wouldn't have told you I would read it if I didn't mean it. I have a lot of questions, there seems to be a lot to consider. But..."

Another glance at Dean. "I just found out the other day that some people get //paid// to deal with the kind of crazy stuff we deal with. I met someone who is part of a whole agency that gets hired to do it. Now you guys. For me..."

He clears his throat. He would have liked to go over all of these things with Dean in private, but the conversation is happening now. "I don't know about for Dean. But for me-- I can't leave the life, and now am not even sure I'd ever like to. But...I also wouldn't mind some stability." A way to bridge the gap between those competing urges: to stay in one place, or more or less one place, to build relationships...

And the Family Business.

"But um. Our father is also missing and that has to be a priority for me right now, and..."

Another quick glance at Dean.

Anyone who can read body language might know that if Dean goes truly nuclear over the idea of Sam working as a SHIELD consultant, well...that would perhaps greatly impact his ability, psychologically, to sign that paperwork.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Food. Ignore the others. A quick lopsided grin is given at Darcy, but when the paperwork and such is brought back up, his eyes aren't uneasy like Sam: They are steel. Barred and guarded.

He leans back in his chair, running a hand back through his hair with a sigh. "Yeah, I know you mean what you say, Sam." Fucking bleeding heart sometimes...

"People get paid but you want to live under the government's thumb and live by THEIR rules, Sam? I'm not going to sit around and write reports and call some asshat 'Sir' for a packcheck. Fuck that."

He's not one to answer to ANY authority over their father. He is the only one he will show any deferrence. Though the missing of said missing father makes his expression dark. If looks could kill when he looks at Sam. Really? Just throw the WHOLE pie on the plate why don't you?

Though for whatever reason that may not be clear to the women, but painfully obvious to Sam: Dean just lost his appetite. Its like the dead silence before the tornado drops.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Dean shut down. Darcy notices. He was snarky remark and smirking grin. THen Sam openned mouth, mentioned Dad, and Dean shut down. Darcy quirks a brow and glances at May in a silent exchange of: I'll start a trace and get them all the intel we can find; show of good faith.

And she shoves a pieace of chicken into her mouth. May needs to deal with this now. Darcy's the ice-breaker.

Melinda May has posed:
Accepting the clip back, May makes it disappear into her jacket which, while being more closely fitted than Dean's still offers a very brief glimpse at a likely familiarly impressive number of concealed pockets and weapons, including a shoulder holster with what has to be a modified pistol. The grip is atypical. She reaches into another pocket and pulls out ... a pen.

"That was the only tracker we sent you with. If you have questions you'd like answered, you can reach Agent Croft here." She takes a napkin and writes a number on it, then leaves it there for either brother to claim. "If the proposal she drafted is anything like others I've seen, you will never be at our beck and call. We would contact you with a mission on offer, and some of the intel. If you choose to accept it, we'd then schedule a briefing and arrange for resources. If you refuse, we accept that answer and don't contact you again unil there is another mission to offer." She knows of a couple of contract assets in the past twenty years that have worked that way, and she hopes she's not lying to these kids now.

At Darcy's look May simply nods. Get them everything possible. Though, if Winchester the Youngest was any indication, their father is NOT going to be easy to track. However, once they do get a bead on him, May is even willing to fly them there herself.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam winces as the full weight of Dean's disapproval settles on him. That's the nature of their very complex relationship. They're brothers, and normally brothers don't care quite so much about approval. But the parent-child dynamic is all wrapped up in there too. As Dean idolizes John, Sam actually idolizes Dean. So he looks down at his potsticker, also no longer hungry as May outlines how it works.

It sounds like a dream job.

"You're right here," he points out quietly. "You're the one I uh. Met. You and the lady who came into the interrogation room. I would rather ask you."

He clears his throat, still aware of the Weight of Disapproval, not commenting on saying 'Sir' or anything like that. It doesn't sound at all like that, and he also finds it ironic. Their father sure insisted on 'sir', a thought which brings a surge of resentment to Sam's jawline.

Complicated and conflicted. The Winchester Family in a nutshell.

"If I asked you to tell us straight what the catch is, would you tell us, Agent May? Honestly and without flinching?"

Dean Winchester has posed:
"You put it to us like some gift that would work right along our tagline. But.." Dean leans forward, ignoring the number shse wrote on the napkin, elbow on the table, his hand dangling close to the edge of his jacket- near those pockets. "So what is the small print your superiors are going to put in there to wrap our asses up in a bullshit mountain? And what if we want out, no questions asked?"

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Actually. Having been kinda in the same place. There aren't any," Darcy says, tone growing serious as she leans toward the brothers.

"They picked me up in New Mexico, because I helped them handle a giant space death robot. I was offered a job, good benefits, and if I wanted to say fuck it all, I could. Sure, the hours can get fucktarded, and the job decription tends toward 'deals with world tells reality to fuck itself today' but if you're being looked at for WAND? You're already in that stuff anyway."

Melinda May has posed:
May inclines her head toward Darcy. "The only catch I know of is that you'd be choosing to put yourself in the line of danger to protect others. Though, from what I've seen," her eyes glance toward Sam briefly, but she's mostly focused on Dean. She's already aware that he's the one that needs to be convinced here, really. "you both do that already. There would be paperwork involved, but mostly that will be responsibility of any SHIELD agents that accompany you. Or, I can make Lewis here do the paperwork." Not really. Darcy barely does her OWN mission reports.

"Oh, and if you suffer any injuries on these missions, hiding them or refusing treatment will only succeed in making our Medical staff angry. And one of them you'd almost think would turn nine feet tall and green out of sheer rage." She won't, though. She's not Banner. She's worse. She's a tiny Hispanic lady.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam reaches up self-consciously to touch the cut on his cheek, even as he listens to May focus on convincing Dean. He looks over at Darcy's input as well, though a bit of surprise steals over his face at the space robot story.

He glances at Dean. He thinks it sounds like a good deal, but...

He's not going to sit and say that out loud either, not in front of the two women. Solidarity is is important, and he's already screwed up enough today. He rubs the back of his neck a little bit, unwilling, indeed, to say anything at all which might ramp the tension back up.

He eventually does reach for another potsticker though, because, as has been covered...

They're so good.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Yes. Solidarity. Dean glances over at Sam a moment as the woman talk, looking at each in turn. He value's his brother's input, because in the end- this decision isn't just for him. It is both of them. And it is an important one. One dad will likely gut Dean from belly to throat like a damn fish........

"We will try it." He finally concedes after a very long moment of silence. And to Darcy's space robot... well, he would make a crack, but this is a very important moment for the brothers. Accepting that they will be 'helping' and in a sense 'working' with ... someone else. Not something they do lightly.

"But I have conditions." Dean flashes his impish smile for a moment. "One: Sam writes the reports for us. Don't expect anything from me. Two: If any of your Agent buddies go with us on a hunt -WE- call the shots. Three: If we don't like it- we will get out of any bindings, no questions asked."

Melinda May has posed:
May nudges Darcy's soda glass a little closer, then nods to Dean's conditions. "One, I personally don't care who writes the reports as long as they get written. Two, that's a given. If you've been asked to handle a situation, it's //your// job. Any agents with you will be there to support you in that job. Nothing else." As it is, May fully suspects that it'll be either Croft or herself, maaybe Natasha that will be accompanying them on their first few missions, to make sure nothing goes too far awry. Though, she can't help but wonder if Rogers could handle being around these two.

"Three is explicity spelled out in the paperwork. At worst, you might be asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement, if you've been given intel that could be used to compromise SHIELD operatives or facilities." She nods her thanks to the lady of the restaurant as a fresh order of potstickers arrives, saying something to her in Cantonese and getting a reply in the same language. It's entirely possible that she was already familiar with this establishment.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam gives a faint little smile. He's not sure why Dean even bothered making //his// stewardship of the paperwork into a condition. Maybe that was a condition on //Sam//, more so than on SHIELD.

"And we get paid?" he asks, because let's face it, he hasn't had the chance to read over it.

He's not being as mercenary as it sounds, though Melinda and Darcy might not have cause to know that.

Dean does.

One of the biggest points of contention, for Sam, when it comes to their lifestyle is the need to finance the "Family Business" through a plethora of illegal acts which bother Sam on deep, moral levels. Credit card scams, car theft, con artistry. It's nothing he wants to draw to SHIELD's attention, certainly, though the man with the sawed-off-shotgun and the uneasiness around law enforcement might have kind of already broadcast that he's got a...really...flexible...relationship with the law.

The fact that he has become as adept as the senior members of his family at making those transactions happen doesn't make him feel good about himself.

The chance to do what they do //honestly//?

That, at its bedrock, might mean far more to him than the stability bits which he mentioned earlier in this conversation.

Melinda May has posed:
"Yes. We're a government agency, we're not allowed to conscript people. And If you want, I'll make sure that your payments are either in cash or untraceable prepaid cards." Because from what May has heard on grapevine, either of those options is //still// easier for WAND to accomodate than that one hedge witch who keeps demanding payment in black cats.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Honest work usually comes with ties. Complicated ties that make their work even harder than it should be. Not that they do anything BAD, but doing what they do within the confines of 'polite society' ... Well. ....

May answers the Golden Ticket question. When she mentions conscription, his smile twists sour- he has his own opinion but he won't share it. "Fine by me."

Rising from his seat, he gestures for his brother to come with him- which means Darcy will have to scoot that booty. He does take the napkin with Croft's number on it and pockets it. "You'll hear from us in a few days." Give them time to go over the paperwork with the finest toothed comb and for Sam to do his pre-law thing. He trusts the man to make sure they aren't going to be looped into any stupid shenanigans.

"Ciao." He starts walking off to leave with his brother back to his car.