( she does not much care for bodyguards. she does not need one, not really. sure, she's been — well, less than careful. less than rule-abiding, specifically. she's dug her nose into places SHIELD has no interest in letting her go, asked too many questions of the wrong people, accidentally not returned one too many documents at one too high a clearance level... the charges are fair, if not a bit pedantic. daisy's willing to admit that. but she doesn't need a bodyguard. she isn't delicate.
in truth, steve is SHIELD's equivalent of a parole officer, a half-retired superhero kept on the payroll with this low-risk responsibility, but the way he huffs in frustration when she so much as breaks a nail feels a lot like a bodyguard.
maybe that's why she toes the line so much, why she tries his patience, tries to slip his too-attentive gaze, even if it's just to dart under the employees only rope in the art museum. maybe it'll prove he's out to stop her from doing something SHIELD doesn't want on their records, stop her from embarassing them — and not because he cares about her well-being.
[ He isn't an agent. He could never fit the mold. But the ask came from Coulson and Steve knew it had to be important. You don't call in a Captain America favor for any little thing.
Bodyguard may not be the official title, but that's what he is in spirit. He couldn't care less what she did to offend S.H.I.E.L.D.; Steve is just as likely to poke his head where it doesn't belong. But he takes her safety seriously, earning a reputation with her for being strict and immovable. He doesn't disabuse her of the impression.
Still, as much as he is himself a troublemaker, it is with real exasperation that he chases her down a hallway in the art museum designated for employees only. ]
There's not even any art back here. [ #priorities ] What was the point?
( no, there is no art. this hallway doesn't even boast a fresh coat of paint or clean floors. it's sticky and dim and the light above is flickering every so often, which only adds to the cast-off quality of the experience.
but there is an unassuming blue cat-6 port on the far wall, a wall that just so happens to also fence in the security office. she leans against said wall for a moment, hands splaying out as if feeling for an imperfection. in reality, she's just looking for a weird bit of texture to pick off with her nails while she thinks. )
The point, stalker, is not getting caught. ( which is why daisy oh-so-casually slides down to the floor, perhaps a smidge more sensually than the spy act calls for, before fishing a box and cord combination out of her crossbody bag. unsurprisingly, said cord fits the port. ) I'm just reprogramming their DVR.
( eyes blink innocently up towards the inquisitor. totally above board behavior here. )
I know what a DVR is. [ He lets exasperation bleed into his voice. Part of him is impressed with her resourcefulness, using her already assigned tail as a lookout. But given that he never volunteered for the role, the rest of him is feeling used. ]
( flippant, not agitated. she doesn't think it does — not to him, anyway, when a misdeed is a misdeed no matter the justification she might give. )
I'm looping their video feed to the last fifteen minutes. ( thumbs flash across her phone screen, her glance darting down. not a text; she can do that by memory. thank you t9. ) The security guard on the fifth floor mentioned something about having to wait until now before he could eat — that's usually indication of a shift change.
( the lone status light on the small box begins to blink blue. a low hum of satisfaction. )
If it's okay with you, I'd prefer to not get caught.
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❝ long live the walls we crashed through ❞
in truth, steve is SHIELD's equivalent of a parole officer, a half-retired superhero kept on the payroll with this low-risk responsibility, but the way he huffs in frustration when she so much as breaks a nail feels a lot like a bodyguard.
maybe that's why she toes the line so much, why she tries his patience, tries to slip his too-attentive gaze, even if it's just to dart under the employees only rope in the art museum. maybe it'll prove he's out to stop her from doing something SHIELD doesn't want on their records, stop her from embarassing them — and not because he cares about her well-being.
who would do that. )
no subject
Bodyguard may not be the official title, but that's what he is in spirit. He couldn't care less what she did to offend S.H.I.E.L.D.; Steve is just as likely to poke his head where it doesn't belong. But he takes her safety seriously, earning a reputation with her for being strict and immovable. He doesn't disabuse her of the impression.
Still, as much as he is himself a troublemaker, it is with real exasperation that he chases her down a hallway in the art museum designated for employees only. ]
There's not even any art back here. [ #priorities ] What was the point?
no subject
but there is an unassuming blue cat-6 port on the far wall, a wall that just so happens to also fence in the security office. she leans against said wall for a moment, hands splaying out as if feeling for an imperfection. in reality, she's just looking for a weird bit of texture to pick off with her nails while she thinks. )
The point, stalker, is not getting caught. ( which is why daisy oh-so-casually slides down to the floor, perhaps a smidge more sensually than the spy act calls for, before fishing a box and cord combination out of her crossbody bag. unsurprisingly, said cord fits the port. ) I'm just reprogramming their DVR.
( eyes blink innocently up towards the inquisitor. totally above board behavior here. )
You do remember DVRs, right?
no subject
What are you up to?
no subject
( flippant, not agitated. she doesn't think it does — not to him, anyway, when a misdeed is a misdeed no matter the justification she might give. )
I'm looping their video feed to the last fifteen minutes. ( thumbs flash across her phone screen, her glance darting down. not a text; she can do that by memory. thank you t9. ) The security guard on the fifth floor mentioned something about having to wait until now before he could eat — that's usually indication of a shift change.
( the lone status light on the small box begins to blink blue. a low hum of satisfaction. )
If it's okay with you, I'd prefer to not get caught.