daisy johnson (neverfit) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2017-05-12 23:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, #npcs, *kori, *lena, daisy johnson |
super backdated log
Daisy had held up her end of the bargain and Phil sat with a double of "the good stuff". Not the Haig he'd promised Melinda - he wasn't sure if he could drink that without her, but a good single malt whiskey that was smooth going down. He wasn't sure where she'd picked up good taste in scotch, but he wasn't going to argue. After all, even if it was a "technical glitch" that had brought him here, his team was here. His family. And he needed to take care of them. Phil watched Daisy for a moment, a fond smile on his face before he raised his glass. "Here's to you. And I'm sorry for being late." Daisy shrugged as she lifted her own glass. The truth was that a few weeks ago she might not have been so openly happy to see him. She’d spent her first several weeks here pushing away the people she knew from home while she dealt with her feelings over losing Lincoln and her guilt over the things she’d done under HIVE’s sway. Coulson probably wouldn’t have been spared that, but a recent memory dump added to the friends she’d made here and the fact that Lincoln had showed up all meant she was starting to deal with things better. And she had missed him. “Isn’t it kind of narcissistic if I agree to that toast?” she joked. "You're allowed a little bit of narcissism. Just don't make it a habit." The words might have almost been a reprimand, but the tone was light and Phil's smile made it clear there was no venom behind the words. There was a lot to take in here in this world, but so far it was good. Well, the presence of Ward made this place … complicated, but if he could avoid him, it'd be okay. "Unless you've got a better toast, because if you do, I'm all ears." “Nah, toasting to me is fine,” she said, half-joking. She lifted her glass to her lips after tapping it lightly against his and took a drink. “So I guess the obvious question is when you're from,” she said, as if discussions of timelines and time travel were commonplace with them. They weren't, really, but they'd seen and experienced enough that it wasn't much of a leap. “What was going on at home for you?” Coulson made a bit of a face. Things were complicated back there. But the fact that Daisy called it home was potentially a good sign. "Timelines are complicated. Mace is Director, SHIELD is going above ground. The watchdogs are trying to wipe out inhumans, Senator Nadir is vocal against Inhumans. Apparently aliens and inhumans aren't even, so we had this whole thing with Ghost Rider - basically a dead guy possessed by the devil if you can believe that, and now it turns out Radcliffe built a Life Model Decoy and she infiltrated SHIELD." He paused to take a drink. "So, how much of that was Spoilers?" “Not as much as you’d think,” Daisy answered him with a short laugh. “It’s kind of a long, complicated story, but I was here from earlier and then I woke up with all these memories, right up to Jemma giving me my lanyard. I still don’t get the color system.” She paused to take a drink. “Forever judging the Mace thing, by the way,” she added. "Not my color system. And Mace is… well, it's a long story, but Jeffrey and I go back." So there was still enough Daisy didn't know, but she knew enough. Phil relaxed slightly, smiling at the young woman who was the closest thing he had to a daughter. "Besides, Mace wasn't the inhuman I wanted to be Director." He didn't need to say more, the look he gave Daisy was enough to get the message across. “Yeah, yeah, you told me. I still think you’re crazy,” she said, shaking her head and laughing. The idea that she could be director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was ridiculous. Then again, she still couldn’t believe Coulson had let them take it away from him. It was going to take some getting used to, being part of a S.H.I.E.L.D. where he wasn’t in charge. Phil laughed. "Plenty of people would agree with you on that," he joked, taking another sip of his scotch. "So, what do I need to know about this place? Other than the fact that Ward's alive, which is going to take some getting used to. But I'll play nice as long as he stays out of my way." “Yeah, I’m not really loving that part, either,” she admitted. “So far, he’s been on his best behavior, but that doesn’t mean I trust him.” She paused, trying to decide where to start. There was a lot to this place that was like home, but other parts were just weird. “Well,” she said finally, “we’re kind of fictional. Our lives are this television show called ‘Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.’ Super original, I know.” "We'll survive though. And hopefully I won't need to kill him a third time," Phil admitted as if he was just talking about the weather. He would do whatever was necessary to protect Daisy and prevent Ward from causing trouble though. It was one place where nothing was off limits. "Fictional, huh? That explains the other characters around here. So we're like them. Interesting." Phil seemed to take it in fairly well with a drink of scotch. "Are there comic books? I'd really like to be in a comic book." Daisy grinned. “There might be some comic books,” she admitted, knowing he'd love that. It was a little weird and almost creepy to think their lives were just entertainment to some people, but, hey, being a comic book superhero was kind of cool. "So, do they give me a six pack like cap or those awful boobs that are really more like flotation devices?" he teased. "I could probably pull of a dress, but I'm not sure about the tits." The grin faded from his face and he gave her a look. "So, apart from being fictional and having Ward around, how are you doing? Really?" Daisy was important to him and he worried about her, more than he should, even if she was back at SHIELD in his world finally. “Better than I was,” she admitted, shaking her head as his dress and tits comment. It was hard to brood about anything in the face of his bad jokes. “Lincoln’s here, he’s alive and that’s [...] something I’m still getting used to. And Ward is [...] well, it’s complicated. I’m still not sure how much I trust him, but I’m doing okay. Making friends, doing the job, you know how it goes.” "Lincoln being alive is a good thing, yes?" His eyes searched her face. Was there something he was missing. He couldn't help the rising guilt. His team had been here, and he hadn't been here to protect them. "You mean there's more to it than 'Ward is evil'?" He took another drink. "There's more to life than work, Daisy." “Lincoln being alive is a great thing,” she said. As weird as the concept that someone who’d been dead at home could be alive here was, she was so grateful for the chance to be with him. “It was [...] there was someone else, before he showed up, someone I hurt, because I couldn’t [...] when Lincoln showed up, there was no choice, really.” She still felt bad about that. Hurting Zane had never been something she wanted, but not being with Lincoln hadn’t even been an option. Sighing, she knew she had to explain about Ward, too. “I have memories of being somewhere else with Ward. Somewhere where he hadn’t done a lot of it, yet, and he was [...] he made amends, he changed. I didn’t want to believe it was possible for a long time, but eventually I forgave him. Then I went home and lived through [...] everything else.” She shrugged, not really sure what it all meant. “We’re not friends, exactly, but we’re not enemies anymore, either. Like I said, it’s complicated.” "Ah, I see." Understanding dawned on his face as she talked about Lincoln. That much he understood. He knew what it was like to lose people. To finally be able to move on. He could only imagine how it would disrupt Audrey's life if she knew he was alive. "This isn't your first rodeo, then?" he asked. It wasn't his, per se, either, but this was different than his previous experiences. "I won't shoot first, but… I can't trust him. Not after everything." “I’m not sure I trust him either,” Daisy admitted. “Not like Jemma and Fitz do. I can’t ignore the good he’s done here, but I can’t ignore all the bad, either, no matter how many therapy sessions he sits through or how much he seems to have changed.” There was a part of Daisy that would always remember how he’d fooled them before and would wonder if this version of him was a lie, too. Coulson didn't quite understand how anyone could trust Ward, particularly Jemma and Fitz. And if Grant had done good here, well, that was enough to make Phil hesitate before shooting him on sight. "Therapy isn't some magical pill," Coulson said, half heartedly, not sure it was possible for Grant to change, not after everything. Not after what Coulson did. "But I'll play nice. Best to stay out of trouble to start with. So what's your opinion on this whole thing? Trustworthy?" Glad to change the subject away from Ward, Daisy nodded. “These guys are for real, definitely,” she said. “I'm working in tech, so they haven't sent me out on a mission, yet, but everything they said in the brief has checked out and Atlantis is a pretty cool place. I'm not just saying that because I get to be BFFs with Captain Kirk here.” She grinned at that last part. Jim had been her roommate the first few months and he'd become one of her closest friends, despite her determination not to let anyone in. "Well, as long as it's not a magical place." Coulson's lips quirked up. Perhaps it was in bad form to joke about things like Project TAHITI, but humor is what made life in SHIELD - and death in SHIELD - bearable. "Wait, you're best friends with Captain Kirk? Which Kirk? Shatner Kirk or New Kirk?" “Well, technically it is,” she joked right back, “but without, you know, the dying and the mind control and the creepy alien writing.” It wasn’t exactly funny, but there were some things you had to make light of or they’d drive you nuts. Maybe this was what they needed to put it all behind them. As bizarre as it was, the which Kirk convo made her smile. “New Kirk,” she answered. “They stuck us in the same room a few months ago when we both got here and we kind of bonded. Mostly over crappy life experiences and a lot of whiskey, but hey.” It was another thing she made light of, but the truth was she couldn’t imagine her life without him now. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll introduce you.” "Good, because you know, beaches and umbrella drinks are better without brainwashing and resurrection." He sipped his drink and chuckle. "Whiskey - bringing people together for centuries. And I wouldn't mind meeting him - as long as he doesn't put me in a red shirt." Daisy just grinned at that. “Hey, no promises,” she teased. She was glad he was here, even if she didn’t say it in so many words. Coulson was family, the closest thing she had left. She’d gone through a period of pushing him and the rest of the team away, but she was trying to move past that now. She was grateful they were letting her. |