[ Which he follows through on in approximately 30 seconds, so knock knock. When she opens the door, he's standing there with a basket in hand, filled with some very strange gifts. ]
[ Rifling automatically through his basket uninvited, Skye grabs the water bottle out of the basket before she even steps aside to let him into her room. She leans her back against the door, making way for him as she unscrews the cap and sniffs the inside of the bottle as if she'd know what poison would smell like if it were coated (she wouldn't). ]
Okay, weird. [ She screws the lid back on, letting go of the door so it can click shut behind them as she follows Fitz into the main area of her hotel room. One of these days, they should really just knock the walls down between them and have an eternal sleepover. ] Where'd you find this?
Yeah. [ So weird. He doesn't seem bothered about her living dangerously approach, pausing to make sure the door's shut before he steps in and takes a seat in the room's lone chair. The basket's held in his lap, but he's looking at it a little distrustfully. ]
It was in my room when I came back from breakfast this morning. [ A beat. ] You really didn't get one?
No, I'm full of it; I thought I'd lie to shake you up, and I'm hiding one under the bed.
[ This all comes in an offhanded hurry, like none of it gets a moment's consideration. Then she drops onto the bed, folding her bare feet under her and raising her hands in an anticipatory catcher gesture. ]
[ The sarcasm earns a slightly petulant look, but he moves past it at the question. Digging the bottle of generic Advil out of the basket, he tosses it over with a rattle of pills. ]
Medication. And some... I think they're breath mints.
[ Breath mints he's definitely not trying. The next thing he lifts is a small stuffed animal, roughly the size of his hand; that gets a more curious consideration than a shrewd one. ] And a teddy bear.
[ Easily catching the bottle, she rattles in beside her ear, then starts to unwrap the top and pop the cap. For all the reasons that he doesn't want to try the breath mints, she doesn't know if anyone should be popping these particular pain relievers. But she's shaking one out into her palm to look over anyway.
It looks exactly like she'd expect.
Simmons would know what to test it for, even without equipment. Skye's eyes flicker up to Fitz, and for a moment, she's sure he's thinking the same thing. She pours the pill back into the bottle and breaks his gaze. Simmons isn't here. ]
[ The bear's set on the seat next to him as he listens, looking up to watch as she studies the pill. He'd checked them, too, so he's not expecting much.
Simmons absolutely would have known where to start with it. Even if he isn't thinking it now, he'd thought it before, and Fitz looks away at about the same awkward moment. That's followed by the crinkling of plastic as he retrieves the kangaroo jerky from the basket, lifting it up and glancing at the label. ]
[ What the fuck. She sits up straighter, leaning over like she's trying to see without getting off the bed because
well
it's fucking freezing still and she hates moving. She settles back into a comfortable sitting position a moment later. ] Just get over here. [ She scoots back on the bed, making room for him and waving him over. ] Seriously, it's freezing anyway. [ And it makes team-snooping easier. ]
[ There's a brief hesitation, if only because he's been... well, spending a lot of his time by himself and talking to himself, these days, but he's got to get over that at some point.
He stands up, then remembers the bear and grabs it before stepping over to the bed; he doesn't bother kicking his shoes off before sliding onto it and leaning back against the headboard. It's only slightly awkward, all said and done, but more in the familiar and super dorky way than anything new.
Once he's settled, he puts the bear down next to him again. That's a thing now, apparently. Except it's obviously sort of a joke, given the small smile he offers Skye.
... which fades like, two seconds later. ] Do you think it's got a camera in it.
[ Oh man. She looks at the basket like it's grown a second head all of a sudden. That hadn't occurred to her, but it is mighty suspicious. Her nose crinkles. ]
Too bad we don't have one of those— [ She presses her thumb to her palm and makes a buzz noise. ] EMPs of Trip's, huh?
[ Trip. Goddammit. The light flickers out of her eyes, takes the last upward twitch of her lips and drains her levity dry. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and she breaks Fitz's gaze, moving to scoot directly beside him, pulling the bear into her lap to make room at his side. She starts to look the bear over, feeling at the seams. ]
Why? [ There's one thing that doesn't make sense. ] They could have just surveilled the rooms, the whole hotel. They wouldn't need to give us gifts to do it. Have you swept your room for bugs? [ She hasn't. ]
[ When he'd first arrived, yes. All the talk of reality shows involving fights to the death were inspiring, in the worst kind of way. He seems oblivious to the shift in her mood; or at least to the idea that it's due to anything other than their current situation. ]
None of it makes any sense. [ The observation's quiet, gently annoyed. ] The windows won't open, except there's no damn reason why, and the network's impossible to break into. And the lifts and the temperature—
[ It's a laundry list of things that have been driving him slowly insane. The entire reason you had skills like his was to fix things; identify a problem, repair it. Only the problems here seem to exist without any apparent cause. There's nothing to fix.
Instead of going on, he takes the corner of the bag and starts to tear it before giving it a sniff. As if he knows what kangaroo jerky is even supposed to smell like. ]
If you put that in your mouth, you're eating my childhood.
[ Beloved Winnie the Pooh characters, turned jerky. Calling him out on that is easier than tackling the ugly questions they're left with by their inability to navigate this. She grabs her tablet from the bedside table, though, fitting it between the bear and her thighs. ]
I wanted to try something, actually. Speaking of surveillance. These won't connect to an ISP or a wider network, but what if there's someone listening in on the local network? Like a bug, or some kind of malware, or an extra device. [ Which doesn't solve the basket issue at all, but it's something she can occupy herself with. Fitz is better at the hardware stuff, anyway. ] No reason to make it easier for us to rally if they're not planning to take advantage too.
[ And it goes with the windows. With the lifts. With the temperature. They've got their thumbs in everything, every inch of this place controlled by whoever put them there. The tablets must be, too. ]
I'll be surprised if there's an inch of this hotel that they aren't surveilling.
Yeah, like I'd put mysterious kangaroo jerky in my mouth.
[ GOD SKYE. Although that's a terrible sentence, and he seems to regret it the second it's done. Moving on.
He puts the opened bag back in the basket, then puts the whole thing down in front of them, maybe a foot away on the mattress. Then he stares at it, openly bemused as he tries to focus on her tangent. ]
Well, they've obviously got access. Anything we post on them's fair game. I tried to check the hardware, but there's hardly anything to the tablets in the first place.
[ That's okay, her broad grin reinforces his regret before he can move on, and she tosses the bear forward into the basket, keeping her eyes on Fitz, all glowing amusement at his phrasing, while making the shot. Hilarious.
That said, his question directs her attention back down to the tablet in her lap, and she pulls up the command module beneath the OS, tapping in a few rudimentary processes. ]
Yeah, I've been thinking about the set-up here. I don't see an pre-installed subroutines or malware to log us individually, but that doesn't mean someone's not doing their best quiet observer.
If we're routed in through a local subnetwork, then we should be able to check all registered devices that are logging on. We could check the serial ID numbers against hotel guests, and ... [ She plugs in a few more lines of code, handing the tablet off to him once her commands pull up a list of digits. ] Booyakasha. Process of elimination, find out how many people are playing I, Spy with our comms.
[ 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}
text; backdated to the 26th (still counts on the west coast ok)
text; DIRECTOR FURY VOICE: GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP
Someone stole it.
1/2 text; HEHEHEhehe
text > action!!
[ Which he follows through on in approximately 30 seconds, so knock knock. When she opens the door, he's standing there with a basket in hand, filled with some very strange gifts. ]
action!!!
Okay, weird. [ She screws the lid back on, letting go of the door so it can click shut behind them as she follows Fitz into the main area of her hotel room. One of these days, they should really just knock the walls down between them and have an eternal sleepover. ] Where'd you find this?
no subject
It was in my room when I came back from breakfast this morning. [ A beat. ] You really didn't get one?
no subject
[ This all comes in an offhanded hurry, like none of it gets a moment's consideration. Then she drops onto the bed, folding her bare feet under her and raising her hands in an anticipatory catcher gesture. ]
Yes, really. What else did you get?
no subject
Medication. And some... I think they're breath mints.
[ Breath mints he's definitely not trying. The next thing he lifts is a small stuffed animal, roughly the size of his hand; that gets a more curious consideration than a shrewd one. ] And a teddy bear.
no subject
It looks exactly like she'd expect.
Simmons would know what to test it for, even without equipment. Skye's eyes flicker up to Fitz, and for a moment, she's sure he's thinking the same thing. She pours the pill back into the bottle and breaks his gaze. Simmons isn't here. ]
A care package. Weird just upgraded to creepy.
no subject
Simmons absolutely would have known where to start with it. Even if he isn't thinking it now, he'd thought it before, and Fitz looks away at about the same awkward moment. That's followed by the crinkling of plastic as he retrieves the kangaroo jerky from the basket, lifting it up and glancing at the label. ]
Maybe we're in Australia.
[ Detective Leo Fitz. ]
no subject
[ What the fuck. She sits up straighter, leaning over like she's trying to see without getting off the bed because
well
it's fucking freezing still and she hates moving. She settles back into a comfortable sitting position a moment later. ] Just get over here. [ She scoots back on the bed, making room for him and waving him over. ] Seriously, it's freezing anyway. [ And it makes team-snooping easier. ]
no subject
He stands up, then remembers the bear and grabs it before stepping over to the bed; he doesn't bother kicking his shoes off before sliding onto it and leaning back against the headboard. It's only slightly awkward, all said and done, but more in the familiar and super dorky way than anything new.
Once he's settled, he puts the bear down next to him again. That's a thing now, apparently. Except it's obviously sort of a joke, given the small smile he offers Skye.
... which fades like, two seconds later. ] Do you think it's got a camera in it.
[ Creepy horror movie tropes, bad news bears. ]
no subject
Too bad we don't have one of those— [ She presses her thumb to her palm and makes a buzz noise. ] EMPs of Trip's, huh?
[ Trip. Goddammit. The light flickers out of her eyes, takes the last upward twitch of her lips and drains her levity dry. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and she breaks Fitz's gaze, moving to scoot directly beside him, pulling the bear into her lap to make room at his side. She starts to look the bear over, feeling at the seams. ]
Why? [ There's one thing that doesn't make sense. ] They could have just surveilled the rooms, the whole hotel. They wouldn't need to give us gifts to do it. Have you swept your room for bugs? [ She hasn't. ]
no subject
[ When he'd first arrived, yes. All the talk of reality shows involving fights to the death were inspiring, in the worst kind of way. He seems oblivious to the shift in her mood; or at least to the idea that it's due to anything other than their current situation. ]
None of it makes any sense. [ The observation's quiet, gently annoyed. ] The windows won't open, except there's no damn reason why, and the network's impossible to break into. And the lifts and the temperature—
[ It's a laundry list of things that have been driving him slowly insane. The entire reason you had skills like his was to fix things; identify a problem, repair it. Only the problems here seem to exist without any apparent cause. There's nothing to fix.
Instead of going on, he takes the corner of the bag and starts to tear it before giving it a sniff. As if he knows what kangaroo jerky is even supposed to smell like. ]
no subject
[ Beloved Winnie the Pooh characters, turned jerky. Calling him out on that is easier than tackling the ugly questions they're left with by their inability to navigate this. She grabs her tablet from the bedside table, though, fitting it between the bear and her thighs. ]
I wanted to try something, actually. Speaking of surveillance. These won't connect to an ISP or a wider network, but what if there's someone listening in on the local network? Like a bug, or some kind of malware, or an extra device. [ Which doesn't solve the basket issue at all, but it's something she can occupy herself with. Fitz is better at the hardware stuff, anyway. ] No reason to make it easier for us to rally if they're not planning to take advantage too.
[ And it goes with the windows. With the lifts. With the temperature. They've got their thumbs in everything, every inch of this place controlled by whoever put them there. The tablets must be, too. ]
I'll be surprised if there's an inch of this hotel that they aren't surveilling.
no subject
[ GOD SKYE. Although that's a terrible sentence, and he seems to regret it the second it's done. Moving on.
He puts the opened bag back in the basket, then puts the whole thing down in front of them, maybe a foot away on the mattress. Then he stares at it, openly bemused as he tries to focus on her tangent. ]
Well, they've obviously got access. Anything we post on them's fair game. I tried to check the hardware, but there's hardly anything to the tablets in the first place.
[ Which is when he catches on, glancing over. ]
You said you wanted to try something?
no subject
That said, his question directs her attention back down to the tablet in her lap, and she pulls up the command module beneath the OS, tapping in a few rudimentary processes. ]
Yeah, I've been thinking about the set-up here. I don't see an pre-installed subroutines or malware to log us individually, but that doesn't mean someone's not doing their best quiet observer.
If we're routed in through a local subnetwork, then we should be able to check all registered devices that are logging on. We could check the serial ID numbers against hotel guests, and ... [ She plugs in a few more lines of code, handing the tablet off to him once her commands pull up a list of digits. ] Booyakasha. Process of elimination, find out how many people are playing I, Spy with our comms.
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. ]