Jemma Simmons

He'd just like it to be known - he didn't hate the people on his new team. There's not a lot to hate there - Coulson and May are living legends, Skye is entirely too like him for hatred to be healthy and she seems honestly willing to work towards being a full-time agent, and the pair of scientists... well. You just don't see people taking that much joy in their work anymore.

He just wishes, devoutly, that they'd go and do it in a nice safe lab somewhere, with lots of guards and checkpoints between them {and their talents and the naivete and their heads full of S.H.I.E.L.D secrets) and the rest of the world. Give them a nice big lab space full of... whatever it is that those two need, and let them just... be. They shouldn't be in the field, where a good attitude and willingness to try gets you almost nowhere.

Ward retreated into the armory - he'd found, over the years, that the somewhat mindless and repetitive work of cleaning his gear helped settle him, and it'd keep him busy for a while. He had no idea what Coulson was thinking - the man was legendary, and the teams he had a hand in forming more so - hell, the man was rumored to have helped pick the Avengers. For the life of him though, Ward couldn't figure out how two bright-eyed and bushy-tailed scientists were supposed to be part of good field team. In his experience, the scientists were the people you sent stuff back to - eventually things would filter back in return in the form of better field supplies - from infiltration to medicine and everything in between. He'd never asked how they did it. Frankly, that much science being thrown around gave him a rash, and he'd never met a word over five syllables that he'd liked. For example, that first 0-8-4 they'd run across. Would it have been so hard to say something like 'don't touch that, it's emitting the stuff that made the Hulk!', or 'that device was made by the same people that brought you Red Skull!'. Simple, straight-forward, to the point. You didn't need a degree to know that stuff is probably something you want to stay well away from, and if you had to touch it, proceed with caution. He's not sure what could have been done differently, getting shot by rebels certainly wasn't in his list of things to do and never would be, but at least they all would have been on the same page.

And sure. Eventually, they'd find their feet, probably learn or be forced to learn how to use a gun, get some hand-to-hand combat skills. They'd toughen up, assuming they survived long enough.

That option almost isn't better. Then they might be alive, but they'd be... different. Scarred. He likes the idea of them being in a lab, babbling on at each other, completely unintelligible to people like him. He likes the idea of them being in a lab in a heavily fortified facility. He likes the idea that when they leave said building, there's enough security that the things they do don't bleed out into their every day lives, and they can go do silly things and have normal lives. When they're in that lab, in that situation, they don't become... well. Him. Eventually they'll become wary. Fitz will stop suggesting 'adorable plucky monkey with his cunning monkey hands' as a viable infiltration scheme. Simmons will stop grinning like an kid on Christmas every time they find some piece of inexpiable tech. They won't be them anymore, and to him that's just as bad as all the other horrible options he throws at Coulson in an attempt to make the man see reason.

"Soooo. This what you do for fun?" Skye was leaning against the door-frame, arms crossed in a bit of a defensive gesture - probably unconscious on her part. She always seemed to get a bit worried when Coulson and May are having 'discussions'. He supposed that's not so odd, given what he knows about her history.

"Proper maintenance of your equipment can save your life." He retorted, and then narrowed his eyes at her attempt to hide a giggle. "And it can help you figure out where exactly the safety catch is. Get in here."

"Look, I'm sorry, I was a little stressed at the time..."

"You'll be a little stressed every time." He cut off her somewhat useless excuses. It was a bit unjust, but after he'd been done being nearly beside himself with worry when Akaela had attacked the van, he'd been angry at Skye. She wasn't an agent yet, she didn't have a military background, but she'd been the one with the gun, protecting the two that had no defense at all. He'd managed to avoid lecturing her, but God help him if he was going to let that particular scenario play out again.

When she sat down, he set a Sig in front of her wordlessly, and ignored her overly-dramatic sigh - she claimed to hate the dull repetition of breaking and reassembling firearms more than anything else.

Then again, she said that about everything.

"After this, do you want..." His hesitant attempt to do a better job connecting with Skye was interrupted by May's voice over the intercom.

"Landing in fifteen minutes, Coulson is buying first round at the bar in forty-five."


Later that night, Coulson admitted that his plan was a bit of a wash. Fitz and Simmons were happily trading 'lab experiments gone wrong' stories with a few of the techs from the base, Skye was flirting with one of the flight crew, and Ward was playing darts with the base's resident sharp-shooter.

May, as if sensing his thoughts, snorted her amusement before taking a drink of her whiskey as she sat beside him.

"I really thought they'd be a bit more bonded by now." He admitted. The beer he'd ordered hours ago has long ago gone flat and warm - a horrible drink to match his mood.

"You have one specialist who has been in the field solo for too long, two scientists who have been relying on each other for so long they've forgotten how to easily incorporate others, and a complete unknown with no training whatsoever and a disdain for most of our protocols." She replied, dryly.

"What about you?"

"I wrote most of those protocols, I'm allowed to have disdain for them."

"Not what I meant." He pushed, and she gave him a side-long look.

"You were right - it is a great plane."

"Yes. Yes it is."