InsaneJournal

Who: Antoine Triplett and Jemma Simmons
What: Meeting out of the dreams
When: Recently~
Where: Stark Industries
Warnings: Low
Status: Log | Complete

One tour too many through the deserts of Afghanistan took a toll on a man, but Antoine Triplett didn’t let it drag him through the mud on top of it all. No, he stuck to his guns in every way conceivable and tried to be a voice of reason among his fellow troops. His dedication in the field earned him the option of going home when the President had called for them to leave at the end of the year, but he wanted to stay behind and help with operations.

They had to politely ask him to leave in the long run, because it’d been years since he’d seen American soil. Trip had taken the insistence he go on leave with a smile, understanding of the intentions, and looked forward to the opportunities he’d find back home. Didn’t matter that it took him months to find a job, or even that he had to bounce between them because of his lacking qualifications (and being over qualified in others). He had a tiny, hole-in-the-wall apartment near his grandmother, and that was all that mattered.

His latest foray into the American workforce had been a stroke of luck, having overheard some chatter in a coffee shop across the street from Stark Tower. He was hired on as security almost immediately thanks to his credentials, and he’d be lying if he said the pay wasn’t enough to make him want to kiss a few strangers--he wouldn’t though. Wouldn’t be very polite of him, not at all.

It was when he was just getting off work for that he spied someone still hard at work in the lab. Arching a brow, he cleared himself for entry and hung in the doorframe, arms folded lazily over his chest to observe the woman in question.

“Girl, ain’t workin’ hours 9-5 for scientists, too?”’

It wasn’t that Jemma didn’t trust the equipment at the Agency, far from it. It was state of the art, with modifications to her specifications when possible, or from the dreams of others who no longer were there. But the biochemist would also be remiss if she didn’t double and triple check her work, if she didn’t make sure that the results were universal. It wouldn’t do for them to think something worked when really it was because of glitch. And if there was a glitch, it would need to be caught.

Never let it be said that Jemma Simmons wasn’t thorough in her work.

Even though she knew that Cosima was wanting her to deal with things from her own dreams, Jemma still pushed herself forward and didn’t deal so much and instead focused on things she could actually solve. (In theory, dream related illnesses weren’t actually something she could cure. But she would continue to try.) Besides, with the latest developments she had gotten from Sarah as well as the whole gender swapping thing, it was getting easier to work backwards. And so, Jemma worked. And it was why she was at Stark Tower that night, having been there a few hours since leaving the Agency.

Because of the hours she usually kept, the security guards (or those who were used to her anyway) well knew her schedule and thought nothing of it. Jemma had no idea that there was a new one who had been hired.

“Honestly, Trip. You act as though--” It was so natural to respond, as if this were one of the Dreams, an earlier one to be exact as he was dead. But this wasn’t one of those and she shouldn’t have heard his voice. Had she been up too long? Was this a hallucination? Eyes wide as she realised her folly, Jemma spun and felt her heart speed up then drop.

“Bloody hell. I’m so sorry!” Because this wasn’t awkward at all. Stance, voice, phrasing? It was Trip. But it couldn’t be. And if he had shown up, that meant Jemma was responsible here. If he had shown up here, she wasn’t supposed to know who he was.

Trip? That already arched brow seemed to slant impossibly higher. Did he know her? He hadn’t really become acquainted with the staff yet, apart from the other members of security. Upon second glance of Jemma, he liked to think he’d remember a face like hers, not to mention the charming accent she had. But, he digressed.

The way she apologized so hastily had him easing off his stance and masking a laugh at her expense. “Don’t need to apologize,” he assured, easy-going as ever. “Got caught up in your thoughts and I interrupted ‘em, I should be saying sorry to you. But uh… how’d you know it was me? Stay on top of all the newbies around here?”

It would be too simple an explanation for the outburst she’d given, but he liked to give people a chance to defend themselves. Whatever answer she was inclined to return, he’d accept for the time being. He didn’t know her, so pushing her would be absolutely uncalled for.

Well, that was certainly one way to explain how she knew who he was. In theory anyway. And while Jemma had gotten better at lying, she still wasn’t good at it. She just knew how to utilise half truths and specific words to her advantage. And his offering of how she knew his name made a lot more sense than the truth of dreaming of him.

“Hardly. Though I’m surprised you weren’t warned of the random scientist who keeps odd hours.”

Which...not an answer because well, no actual lie would work. He’d probably see through it even if she could lie. Though she supposed she could just talk science at him and see if that either made him forget or it might prepare him for the dreams.. sort of. God she didn’t want him getting them though. Not with what would be waiting for him.

“Did you know one explanation for the sensation of deja vu or knowing a person you shouldn’t logically know is the multiverse theory? It also can explain the phenomenon of invisible friends.”

Nervous? Perhaps a bit. But she had basically just admitted to knowing him when she had no reason to do so. Did she just imply that he was an invisible friend? She was pretty sure she just had done that.

“Not that you’re invisible. No. You are very real…” Shut up shut up shut up. Stop talking. “Just…” she was going to stop talking now.

“Nah, still too new for the warning labels,” he grinned at her. She was hiding something, but there was something about her that felt safe. If it turned out she was in there building a bomb to destroy the whole city, he’d eat his words, but skittishness aside, the tiny scientist seemed like someone he could trust.

The way she rambled on about things he didn’t quite understand kept that grin tattooed on his face. She kept going and turning herself in a circle, but he couldn’t altogether picture it. Enjoying every second of it, Trip eased off from his lean and moved to pace casually around the lab. He hadn’t been in one since his training, and even that had been for a limited scope. This one was much more advanced than anything he’d ever seen.

“I’m pretty transparent, s’good that way,” he flashed her some pearly whites over that. “Ain’t much for deception. Or gettin’ the whole multiverse thing, but I think I feel ya. I remind you of someone, hope it’s in a good way. My friends call me Trip…” His unfocused perusal of the lab led him over to her with a friendly hand extended. “What do I call the hardworking science gal that oughta come with a warning label?”

Well he wasn’t looking at her like she had sprouted a second head with the way she’d been rambling. That was always a good thing. But no, no bomb building. Just checking and rechecking her work for finding a cure for a clone disease. As well as checking her own blood from… wherever it was she’d been. So far all checks had come back clean, but Jemma was scared all the same.

As he smiled, Jemma finally relaxed some and returned the smile some. “Right. Well. Not many people do as it seems quite far fetched and that’s perfectly fine. But yes. Something like that, you remind me of someone I was very close with.” All true, even if that someone was him. Only in the Dreams. Multi-theory would come into play she imagined once those started. Or at least be a possible explanation.

Offering her own hand, Jemma responded.

“Jemma Simmons. Most people here call me Jemma.” Again true. While she was referred to by Simmons in her dreams most of the time, in Orange County, it was simply Jemma.

“I do, huh?” Trip looked nothing if not pleased with that, though faltered a tad when he gave it further consideration. For her sake. “Hope that’s in a good way.” He’d hate to be hanging around casually and dredging up some unpleasant feelings for a nice scientist working odd hours.

Giving her hand a firm shake, Trip’s smile was back on and in full force. “Jemma,” he tested out her name, shoulders rolling a bit as he mulled it over. Somehow it seemed weird calling her that, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it had to do with that whole mind-boggling multiverse theory she mentioned.

Or, maybe he was just too accustomed to calling people by their surnames while in serve.

“Mind if I call you Simmons instead?”

“I assure you, it is in a good way.” And painful as she had to clean up the pieces of his body, and the pain of loss. But it would always be a good way because painful or not, Trip was someone she had felt close to. Someone who, despite not knowing one another too long was still someone she was comfortable with and hated no longer having around.

All things considered, it did feel weird having him call her Jemma. While she was used to it here, everyone she knew didn’t share dreams with her. Even those who had the same dream world weren’t in her dreams and so while having Natasha Romanoff and Peggy Carter calling her by her name was surreal, it wasn’t odd. She was used to Trip calling her Simmons and so when he asked if she would mind it if he stuck with her surname, Jemma shook her head.

“Not at all.”

So long as it didn’t bring her down, then Trip was more than fine with being a familiar sight to her. He’d structured friendships on less. Provided someone had a semblance of integrity, they were okay in his book. In the case of this woman, he had a good feeling about her. Trip liked to go off his hunches and not look back.

“Then, I’m bettin’ that’s an honor,” he winked at her. Just for good measure. “So, thanks.”

Even better, she went along with the habit serving his country had ingrained in him. He was going to enjoy poking around this wing of the tower to see if she was slaving away at odd hours of the night. He didn’t intend for this to be a permanent-standing gig, but it would suffice until he could figure out what else to do with his life. Trip had plenty of time to sort that out.

“Cool,” he replied smoothly, still peeking around the lab. “What on God’s good green earth are cookin’ up down here? From what I hear, Stark’s into some pretty heavy duty biz. Or is that top secret?” He’d happily back off if that were the case. Who was he to argue with classified information?

“It most certainly is an honour.” Anyone being similar to Trip would be an honour. True she was talking to him while he didn’t realise it. But the fact remained anyone should be honoured to be seen as the man from her dreams. “So you are very welcome.”

Which would seem odd should he ever join the network and start dreaming. Her initial reaction would then make sense, this part of the conversation might seem odd as she was basically comparing him to himself. Which had it’s own degree of strangeness and people wanting to be themselves and not their dreams. But that was neither here nor there. Because first impressions and all. Or something like that.

Hearing a bell, Jemma went to investigate one of her side projects, the one that dealt with whatever it was that had happened to her when she’d disappeared into the monolith. No changes seen in her blood. That was good. But the dust….

“Hmm?” Looking up from her analysis, Jemma up. “Oh, you know, trying to find cures for illnesses we don’t have but could occur.” That was the most blanket term way she could think of to say trying to cure a clone illness.

It was a little more personal than she tried to let on, that much he could discern. Trip wasn’t going to pry any further, he’d only just stumbled upon her in the first place. It wasn’t his place. She’d sparked his curiosity nonetheless. Yes, he’d definitely make sure to end up doing his rounds this side of the building with a little more frequency.

Security at the tower as top-notch, and Trip wouldn’t do a thing to jeopardize that. He’d simply find a way to make the time without sacrificing anything else, such was his way.

The temptation to touch the instruments decorating the tables was tempting, but he resisted. It would be his luck that he’d end up breaking everything in a bizarre domino effect. Keen on making a good impression for his first week on the job, Trip would mind the time and get back to his rounds shortly. He didn’t want to keep her from her work either, she was deep in the thick of it by the looks of things.

“Tryin to cure something that hasn’t happened yet?” He asked, visibly impressed. “Don’t even wanna know the kind of brain power that goes into that. Good luck. Should I let you get back to it, Simmons? Hate to distract you from something that important.” Had it come from anyone else, it might have sounded patronizing.

For him, he meant every word with the utmost sincerity.

Jemma probably could have said it was classified but she was still a poor liar. No. Much better to stick with her very specifically worded answers so as to be telling the truth without revealing too much. It was safer that way, and it wasn’t like it was her place to talk about clone illnesses with other people not involved. As for her DNA samples, labeled as Jane Doe, well.. that was much harder to explain even if she were more into opening up about such matters.

As Trip walked the lab, the biochemist made sure to keep an eye on him. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. No, he’d helped her plenty of times in the medpod in her dreams, but it was also second nature. Always be aware of her surroundings. The paranoia of her time undercover at Hydra had heightened that need to be aware. Secret spy organisations and all.

“What can I say. I like to be prepared.” Which was true. She excelled at preparation. So the notion of running algorithms to try and predict potential illness mutations and how to cure them? Well… not terribly out of the realm of possibility. But she wasn’t surprised when he said he should probably leave her to her work. “You’re not terribly distracting, though I imagine if you’re new you should get a lay of the land. I do look forward to running into you again though, Trip.” Smiling, Jemma was also relieved she hadn’t called him Agent Triplett as she nearly had.

She would deal with the potential dream fall out as it happened.