[ He fumbles a bit at taking the tablet, settling in quickly enough afterwards; that said, his expression isn't quite as openly enthusiastic as hers. ]
Check as in asking for a roll call on the network, you mean? Or are we meant to go door to door. [ Neither option sounds ideal. And with either, he's got the impression whoever is playing I, Spy might catch on well before they finish said process of elimination.
He doesn't voice those particular doubts, though that expression probably does the job for him. ] There's no way they could manage a... hidden frequency? Sort of like a dedicated line.
It's not like we need everyone to share their serial number. Just get a tally, and compare numbers. [ But he's right: the labor intensiveness is off-putting. She slumps against the headboard, sighing. ]
I could dig through the subnetwork for any additional receivers. Total lack of decent equipment considered, it might take a while. [ Another thought occurs to her, and she sits up, reaching out to take the tablet back from him. ] BUt you know, maybe I could trace back the signal's point of origin while I'm at it.
[ The clarification earns silence in answer, which is as good as agreement. He offers the tablet up freely when she takes it, giving her an expectant look. ]
Yeah. I mean, if you can do anything, then... [ Do it, obviously. But she doesn't need his permission. Fitz lifts a hand and scrubs it back over his head, a trace of agitation in the gesture. ] It's just... there's rules, you know? Everything's meant to follow certain rules.
I think we stopped following rules the minute we wound up trapped in a hotel with no exits and a whole bunch of people from other worlds. [ She sounds somewhat resigned. The joy she once would have felt at the newness of it is drained away in the haze of grief and exhaustion. San Juan feels both far away and like it was only earlier that day, all at once, like the whole temple is following her around and haunting her. ] Fitz, I don't wanna be the one to say it, but … What if what we're dealing with isn't science?
[ That earns a look that's this close to intrigued, because magic's the obvious implication and a little bit cool. If creepy. But they've dealt with the inexplicable before, and it's never been magic. ]
Or alien.
[ He's not sure what that means, exactly. Not quite magic, not quite science. He thinks of Mack, eyes wrong and hands around Bobbi's neck, then glances down at the tablet's screen for a distraction. ]
We've figured out worse.
[ Which is meant to be comforting. He's not quite sure it is. ]
[ Worse hurts. Alien hurts. She grimaces through it, like she's chewing glass. Where Fitz thinks of Mack, Skye thinks of herself. Of Trip's face in ashen stone. Of the earthquake she caused crumbling him to nothing more than dust. Of the lobby, and how Regina made her wonder if she did have people who'd support her that way.
She'd asked him once, if an 0-8-4 could ever be a person. Fitz's words still stick in her mind today: I'd hate to meet him. ]
Not alone.
[ That's what really makes her wonder. This is just Fitz and Skye. No Coulson or May or Simmons. In over their head, no resources. ]
I'd eat my own shoe for a sat phone right about now.
[ There's something in her voice that makes him look up, eyes meeting hers. Whatever curiosity's there, he doesn't voice it. ]
We aren't alone.
[ There's a quiet confidence in spite of the flat inflection. His memory ticks back to the train, the last time it'd been just them, the sight of Skye pallid and covered in blood. Leaving her alone had been a mistake, then. He realistically knows that they can't spend every second together in the hotel, and that it's probably just the cold and the lack of sleep talking, but after a beat of silence: ]
Is it... do you want me to stay?
[ Which sounds a little bit like some kind of pick-up, in retrospect, but instead of awkwardly backpedaling he simply lets context speak for itself. ]
[ Reaching one arm around his shoulders, she pulls him to her side, turning her face to bury it briefly against his shoulder. Her fingers clap on the slope of his opposite shoulder, where it curves up to meet his neck. Her thumb rubs against the protrusion of his spine there, and she's smiling when she straightens away. ]
You can come back.
[ She playfully swats at his ribcage, as if to force him to skedaddle. Leave it to Skye to be upbeat enough to make it impossible if she's actually going to shiver and mope or if she's reading it as a pick-up and inviting it or just being an overly cuddly bro. Happy people are weird. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Check as in asking for a roll call on the network, you mean? Or are we meant to go door to door. [ Neither option sounds ideal. And with either, he's got the impression whoever is playing I, Spy might catch on well before they finish said process of elimination.
He doesn't voice those particular doubts, though that expression probably does the job for him. ] There's no way they could manage a... hidden frequency? Sort of like a dedicated line.
no subject
I could dig through the subnetwork for any additional receivers. Total lack of decent equipment considered, it might take a while. [ Another thought occurs to her, and she sits up, reaching out to take the tablet back from him. ] BUt you know, maybe I could trace back the signal's point of origin while I'm at it.
no subject
Yeah. I mean, if you can do anything, then... [ Do it, obviously. But she doesn't need his permission. Fitz lifts a hand and scrubs it back over his head, a trace of agitation in the gesture. ] It's just... there's rules, you know? Everything's meant to follow certain rules.
no subject
[ whispers magic. ]
no subject
Or alien.
[ He's not sure what that means, exactly. Not quite magic, not quite science. He thinks of Mack, eyes wrong and hands around Bobbi's neck, then glances down at the tablet's screen for a distraction. ]
We've figured out worse.
[ Which is meant to be comforting. He's not quite sure it is. ]
no subject
She'd asked him once, if an 0-8-4 could ever be a person. Fitz's words still stick in her mind today: I'd hate to meet him. ]
Not alone.
[ That's what really makes her wonder. This is just Fitz and Skye. No Coulson or May or Simmons. In over their head, no resources. ]
I'd eat my own shoe for a sat phone right about now.
no subject
We aren't alone.
[ There's a quiet confidence in spite of the flat inflection. His memory ticks back to the train, the last time it'd been just them, the sight of Skye pallid and covered in blood. Leaving her alone had been a mistake, then. He realistically knows that they can't spend every second together in the hotel, and that it's probably just the cold and the lack of sleep talking, but after a beat of silence: ]
Is it... do you want me to stay?
[ Which sounds a little bit like some kind of pick-up, in retrospect, but instead of awkwardly backpedaling he simply lets context speak for itself. ]
no subject
You can come back.
[ She playfully swats at his ribcage, as if to force him to skedaddle. Leave it to Skye to be upbeat enough to make it impossible if she's actually going to shiver and mope or if she's reading it as a pick-up and inviting it or just being an overly cuddly bro. Happy people are weird. ]