[The kids were okay. Elizabeth had been predictably a brat about spending extended time with other children and not Mommy-alone-time, which was, in Elizabeth's estimation, a step down already from Mommy+Grandpa+Grandma time and the special center that everyone's world revolved around. But she was packed off to school, and the little ones were with Manda's nanny and she had a meeting in the Plaza to get to. She looked less like a worker-bee in SHIELD when she showed up. Jeans, and a blouse that probably had some kind of cereal on the sleeve from the breakfast with the toddler that morning but a blazer over the top that was all clean lines and severe color, and the blond hair was looped back and knotted at the nape of her neck.
No spreadsheets, but a laptop over one shoulder and she didn't know the first thing about Agent Carter that wasn't a large amount of rumor and the office-gossip. Maybe she was walking in on a meeting that was going to lose her the job that paid well and had cushy benefits - but she'd spent long enough on base watching money trickle into the pockets of people who didn't deserve it and helping to cut it off that Ella was hoping not to have to think about the aftermath. Max would kill her, and there was no way once-a-fortnight open mic nights would cover anything other than maybe the one drink needed to get up on stage in the first place.
She was guided toward the back table by the hostess, and she held out a hand across the table. Ella couldn't look severe if she tried, her face was made for open smiles and laughter, but she wasn't smiling right away.]