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Oriole woke up on an institutional linoleum floor, drenched in thick, sticky fluid. The place was cold, with some kind of fluorescent lighting. As always, she was naked except for her enormous cable-knit sweater and George wrapped around her wrist like a sleek black bracelet.
And she had just learned how to harvest spike plants. Damn.
The headache of interdimensional travel hit her a moment later. "Shit!" she said, covering her eyes with her hands. No matter how many times she was jumped between the verses, she could never get used to the damn migraine.
Now I really want to write a Young Prankster!May fic. The beauty of being behind means I can. This one's inspired by shieldhumanresourcesdept and memosfromfury. I kinda used some of your posts for this, so I thought you deserved some credit. -~- Melinda May's days as a junior agent on the Helicarrier were good ones. She was seen as a huge asset, due to her skills, which was just enough to get her a permanent seat on the flying boat until she became a full agent. They thought she was a model agent from the start. But, when she thought no one was looking, she pulled pranks. May quickly discovered Fury's memos that he posted daily about things that happened on the Helicarrier that irritated him and the memos that Hill sent out from the HR department. Both, instead of being threats, became challenges to her. She would hang up her favorite memos on the wall of her quaters. Including, but not limited to, The individual who has stolen my eyepatch is authorized to keep it. You will be needing it more than I do very shortly. -Director Fury All agents are reminded that my last name is spelled with one "r", not two. Whoever leaked the images from the Christmas party will be punished. -Director Fury All SHIELD agents are reminded that, unless you are eating in your assigned quarters or in the cafeteria, it is never peanut butter jelly time. Ever. The agent who attempted to make normal work hours into said time will be punished. - Agent M. Hill Whoever has returned my stolen eye patch should know that, while I apreciate you took the time to return it, I do not appreciate it being returned bedazzled and pink. I also do not respect the theft of all of my other patches. The former threat still stands. - Director Fury Any agent that is not working in the Tech department is not allowed to sneak in and teach any AI in said department to sing "Daisy", scream "Exterminate!", or fire lazers, lethal or non-lethal. A group of trainee agents had been visiting the department and one of them, namely Dr. Leo Fitz, nearly quit the program then and there. Dr. Jemma Simmons had to talk him down, but he is still on edge, along with many other agents. If we loose even one of our brightest minds due to this prank, the agent responsible will be tracked down and forced to stay in the room with the AIs until they are fixed. - M. Hill Her favorite, by far, was one that talked about her. Junior agents are reminded that Junior Agent Richards, while very good at Galaga, is not a good peer role model. Junior Agent May, though, is a perfect model. She is hardworking, quiet, and never pulls any of the goddamn pranks the group of you insist on pulling. - Director Fury To her, the memos were momentos from a job well done. The defining moment of her pranking career was one day, after another training session, another agent, not much older than herself, pulled her aside. "Melinda, I know you've been pulling the pranks," He told her. "And so do Barton and Romanoff. They told me to invite you to their secret prank group. Of course, if they approached you, it'd be conspicuous, so they sent me. Great job, by the way." She later learned the agent's name was Phil.
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Next in line for "Movie Poster Apologies for People I've Been an Ass To" is shielddeputydirector/shieldhumanresourcesdept
What happened in Madripoor, nobody may ever know
MADRIPOOR: It Was Never Just A Mission is entirely a work of fiction any and all events and people beyond Maria Hill are fictional and are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Comparison of this story to actual events is a violation of SHIELD Confidentiality Code ONUD-375662
By the time the police released him - with a citation for indecent exposure - the crash site had been sealed off. No civilians allowed. Military personnel only. Jim was pretty sure he'd have been spending the night in a jail cell if not for the wreck of his Harley in the middle of all those HYDRA goons, corroborating his story. Well, that and the sudden release of every dirty little SHIELD secret onto the internet, without benefit of Wikileaks to vet them and slow flood of data to a manageable trickle.
"Hey!" the officer who dropped him off at his truck called from the police car. Jim turned back. "Lemme see that ticket."
Jim shrugged and offered it to the officer.
"I got this," the officer said. "My grandpa used to tell stories about what those HYDRA bastards were like. Anyone who gives them what they deserve is a hero in my book. It's the least I can do." He nodded toward the Mack. "You got a spare set of keys?"
"Always," Jim said, then gave the officer a grin, while fishing a spare set of keys from a case fitted to the inside of one of the frame members. "Thanks."
"Any time," the officer said, and put his cruiser into gear.
While he was driving out of the parking lot, Jim unlocked the cab and crawled in. He managed to get into the sleeper, the door locked behind him, before his eyes closed. The next he knew, the satphone was waking him with its raucous ring.
He groaned and crawled forward, snatched at the handset, and mumbled into the mouthpiece, "Lo."
"JIM!" Bobby's voice cut through his fog. The sound of worry was enough to snap Jim fully awake.
"Bobby? What's wrong?" Jim asked.
"What's wrong?" Bobby repeated. "Are you still at the club?"
"Uh-huh," Jim mumbled, while rubbing his face with his other hand.
"Look outside!" Bobby said. "You see all those helicopters and army troops? They're all over the news!"
"Helicopters? Buh?" Jim mumbled, then leaned forward and craned his neck. "Huh. Helicopters. Lots of them."
"That's right!" Bobby cried. "Come home! Please?"
"Yeah," Jim mumbled. "Yeah, I'll leave as soon as I get some coffee in me, OK?"
"Stay safe," Bobby said. "Please. Don't do anything foolish. We're waiting for you."
"I promise," Jim said. "I won't do anything stupid. Bindi still in bed?"
"Yes," Bobby said. "She wasn't worried at all."
"That's our girl," Jim chuckled. "OK, if I'm going to get on the road, I need to hang up so I can get going."
"I love you," Bobby said. "Keep safe."
"I love you, too," Jim said. "I'll be home soon."
Once he'd hung up and found his spare pair of boots, Jim squirmed into a fresh set of clothes, slid into his driver's seat, and opened the storage bin where he kept his wallet when doing shows. Thanks to those HYDRA assholes, he wasn't going to be doing any shows until he'd replaced his costume, so he might as well keep his wallet on hand.
Getting out of D.C. had been a pain, but not nearly as bad as he'd been afraid of. As soon as his name didn't turn up on whatever list the police were using at their roadblocks, they just waved him through. It took a little under seven hours to make the trip, but he pulled into the driveway of his home near Willowemoc Wild Forest before dinnertime. When he saw the mess in the driveway, he chuckled and rolled his eyes, and parked the truck where it wouldn't be in Bindi's way when he sent her out to clean it up. Then again, there was a good chance she'd left it there for him, so he'd have to find out why she'd left nearly half the deer she'd asked for the night before.
"DADDY!" the excited, happy squeal was all the warning he had to brace for impact before his little girl hit him like a freight train. Jim staggered back a couple steps with the impact, but managed to get - and keep - his arms around her in a daddy's embrace. Bindi lowered her head and gave him a thorough slurping, while squeezing him like she'd never be able to hug him again. "Daddy! You're home! Other Daddy was crying, but Grandma said you'd be OK."
Jim stepped back, surprised, and looked up at Bindi. His little girl was just shy of twelve feet tall, with the build of a grizzly bear, reptilian hide that was even more damage resistant than his own, and a face that was a cross between a little girl's, a gorilla's, and a komodo dragon's. She had lovely amber eyes, and when she was excited, like she was now, they glowed with their own inner fire. Jim often wondered when she was going to start breathing that fire.
"Grandma's here?" Jim asked, giving Bindi a loving smile. "When did she get here?"
"This morning, and it's been no end of difficult to keep from noshing on that carcass," said a woman behind Jim. "But, Bindi insisted that it was for Daddy, and I was definitely not going to argue with her."
"Grandma is smart!" Bindi giggled.
Jim turned, laughed, and gave his mother a hug that would have crushed a human. "MOM!"
"I'm right here, boy," she replied and gave him an affectionate cuff. She was tall enough to look Jim in the eyes, but easily twice his size, covered with a fine layer of silky fur, with muscles on top of muscles, claws on her fingers and toes that looked like ivory daggers, and a mouth full of sharp, pointy teeth, with fangs and tusks that could easily hold even a wild hog in her grip. "When I heard the news, I knew I had to come and make sure you didn't go running off and do something that'd make your husband and little girl sad."
"Make them sad?" Jim asked, stepping back go give his mother a confused look. "Like what?"
"Like running off to the nearest government office to enlist for HYDRA hunting," she answered.
"Hunting?" Bindi asked, her attention piqued. "Daddy? Don't you want your deer?"
"I sure do, sweetie," Jim said, giving Bindi a hug. "I'm going to share it with Grandma, too. That way I won't eat so much that Other Daddy will be sad about me not eating what he's cooking."
"Oooh! Daddy's smart!" Bindi declared. She grabbed one of the carcass' two remaining legs and tossed it to Jim's mother, who caught it and took a big bite, then gave her a grin while chewing.
"I see you ate the entrails, sweetie," she said, once she'd swallowed, while Jim ripped off a leg and handed the rest of the carcass back to her. "That's my good girl."
"Daddy says it's im ... umm, im...PORtant!" Bindi said, screwing up her face in thought as she tried to get the hard word out. "He says entrails are good for you." She grinned and added, "Besides, they're yummy!"
"That's right, sweetie," Jim's mother said. "They ARE yummy. And so's this deer. Thank you."
Bindi giggled and shuffled her feet. "I tell Other Daddy that Daddy's home!" She turned and bounded for the house, landing heavily enough that the Mack and the F450 both bounced in time with her steps.
"Still has a little trouble with grammar when she's exited, huh?" Jim's mother commented, as both leaned against the pickup and polished off the deer.
"Yeah," Jim said. He let out an amused snort. "Hell, you remember how well I spoke at that age. 'Me smash! Me no like mean boys!' Remember?"
"How could I forget?" the woman laughed. "I was able to convince you that eating them was only a temporary pleasure, and then visited their mothers to have a nice, polite, heart-to-heart talk with them. I don't remember you complaining about the mean boys after that."
"What'd you do, Mom?" Jim asked.
"Hmm?" She gave Jim an amused grin, swallowed, and said, deadpan, "I told them that if their boys continued to torment you, I'd give you permission to eat them."
"You!" Jim sputtered, then broke into laughter. "Mom! I'd have been mortified if I'd known that back then!"
"Which is exactly why I didn't tell you, Perfect, isn't it? Now, I don't know about you, but I'm going to have to use your hose to get my hands and face clean before we go in."
"Why do that?" Jim asked. "We just use Bindi's door. It's set up with a sink for washing up when you've been hunting. She loves it."
He chuckled as he led the way to a second porch, with a warehouse door that opened when their shoulders broke an optic beam. Inside the porch, they had a choice between an industrial sink on the left wall, or an arrangement of a dozen deluge-type shower heads, which could be triggered by stepping on a pressure pad near the right wall.
"See, Mom?" Jim chuckled. "Even if you manage to completely soak your fur in blood, we've got you covered."
"I see," the woman answered, shook her head and laughed, and headed for the sink, where she scrubbed her hands vigorously. "That little girl of yours really is special to you, isn't she?"
"Yes," Jim said softly. "She is. She may be a rescue, but I love her as if she were my own, Mom. She feels as much like family as you do."
"Good," the woman said, and ruffled Jim's hair. "You're my son, that's for sure."
"Mom!" Jim protested, ducking his head and blushing. He pushed open the door to the living room, where Bindi was excitedly telling Bobby about his arrival.
"Please, por Dios, tell me you have eaten that carcass Bindi left in the drive?" Bobby pleaded when Jim poked his head in.
"All dealt with," Jim said, chuckling. "Bindi did a good job of protecting it from her grandma."
"Just you wait, sonny," Jim's mother snorted, while grinning with obvious pride.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Cole," Bobby said, with a sly smile. "I happen to know that the best way to keep Jim out of trouble is - "
"I don't want to know," Mrs. Cole interrupted.
"- to threaten him with spreadsheets," Bobby finished.
Bobby, legally known as Roberto Martinez, was a mere 5'10", and would have been seen as both quite handsome, and fairly muscular when compared to another human. In this family, though, he was the delicate, breakable one. He was also the one who managed the business side of Jim's trucking operation, which meant that unlike most other freelance truckers, Cole Transportation operated in the black, and always had access to jobs in whatever city Jim might be headed to. In fact, this was the first time he had deadheaded in over three years.
"So, do I call for pizza, or did you spend the afternoon where I think you did?" Jim asked, while gathering Bobby into his arms.
"You know I did," Bobby said, blushing. He nuzzled Jim's chest and whispered, "I was so worried. the whole DC to New York corridor is insane. There's army fighting spies, and remember that flying aircraft carrier Bindi saw during the alien invasion? There were three of them that crashed yesterday."
"That's where I was last night," Jim said. "I was trying to find survivors to rescue."
He sat down with a heavy sigh, dragging Bobby into his lap as he did. "I only found two. One of them dragged the other out of the Potomac, and left him for me to watch until the ambulance crews got there."
"That sounds ... really weird," Bobby said.
"It was," Jim said. "It was Captain America. I don't know who the guy was who rescued him, but I sat there watching Captain America until the ambulance came to pick him up."
"Seriously?" Mrs. Cole asked.
"Yeah," Jim said. "I think he was delirious. He kept talking about Bucky. That's the guy who was with him when he rescued you and the others, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Mrs. Cole said. "Bucky died not long after. Fell off a train or something. I wonder why he'd be talking about him."
"I don't know," Jim said. "Like I said, I'm pretty sure he was delirious."
"Sounds like it," Mrs. Cole said. "So what do you plan to do?"
"What do you mean?" Jim asked, giving his mother a confused look.
"I know you, son," she said. "You were never one to let something like this pass. Are you planning, or just reacting?"
"I ...," Jim trailed off and looked down at Bobby while chewing his lip. "Bobby, can you contact Mr. Facchino? I'm pretty sure, based on the job he gave us last year, that he's who we need to connect with if we want a piece of those maniacs."
"Jim ...," Bobby protested, looking up at Jim with open worry. "If you do this, we're going to have to start dipping into savings to stay afloat. I'll start having to take work from other people."
"You'll ...," Jim paused, then grinned. "Bobby, definitely find the contact information for Mr. Facchino. No one - and I mean NO ONE - can beat you when it comes to forensic accounting. I'll bet those maniacs left trails all OVER the SHIELD account books. Trails that could lead people with your talent straight to them."
"And someone like you can turn them over to people like me," Mrs. Cole said, with a toothy grin. "No, don't worry, son. I won't eat them. Don't want food poisoning, after all. Doesn't mean I can't shred them, though."
Bobby let out a resigned sigh. "All right ... I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this ... but not until tomorrow. Tonight we have a good dinner, spend time with Bindi, NOT dealing with the evils of the world, and tomorrow we start trying to reconnect with them."
"That'll do, love," Jim said, giving Bobby a gentle kiss. "That'll do just fine."
The next morning, Bobby was at his desk before 8am, searching for a connection that would get him to Mr. Facchino without leading unwanted attention back to their house. If SHIELD was going to successfully fight HYDRA, the way Jim and his mother assumed, they were going to need reliable logistics. While the bad guys might be able to blow up Jim's truck, they would no more be able to stop Jim than they were able to stop their resident big and green pseudo-ogre. And if they DID manage to stop Jim? Well... between his mother and Bindi, whoever did would have a world of hurt coming down on them. If he could get Mr. Facchino, or whoever was working in his office, to pay attention long enough, it just might work.
