( closed )

[technologist]

WHO: Daisy, Fitz
WHAT: Thedas 101
WHEN: Backdated to late Justinian
WHERE: Library + around the Gallows
NOTES: n/a

Fitz says thirty minutes and he's kind of close. The streets are quiet. So are the docks, and the ferry's obnoxiously slow — slower than usual. He reaches the library somewhere around the forty-five minute mark with the distinct look of someone who's been rushing without outright running, giving the tables and stacks near the front a quick once-over.

He spots her a few shelves back. Browsing or keeping busy while she waits, probably, but he doesn't take the time to clock whether she's currently got her hands full of books before he's stepping forward with a quick, "Daisy."

If the sweep of relief in his voice is anything to go by, the sight of her beats a detached voice over crystal. And they've done this too many times to count, this exact kind of relief and the reunions and the hugs that go with it — him one more than her, apparently, post-space — but it's already been another five months since on his end, so it's novel all over again.

Other things that are novel: he's a bit rough around the edges, hair dangerously close to too scruffy. Business casual's been traded in for local camouflage, all off white and dark fabrics and practical leather that's not far off from his Marauder get-up.

Comments

[hacker]

The cool affect she'd maintained throughout the conversation dissolves in an instant. With light behind her eyes, she straightens away from the table.

"Tony Stark is here?" The words spill out in a rush. For a moment, she is the twenty-something crowded outside Stark Tower in red-and-gold gogo boots. But that was a decade ago, and there's a reason they say never meet your heroes, and they call it the Accords.

The impulse quashed, she clears her throat and makes a poor attempt at pretending that had never slipped out. She smooths her hand not at all coolly down the front of her shirt to straighten it and lifts her chin. "I mean, that's ... That's whatever. Fine, I guess."

[technologist]

Oh, right. Fitz seems to be having the same journey on a much smaller scale, second-hand. He'd hated the Accords. They'd nearly destroyed his family, which wasn't exactly a forgive and forget situation — but they hadn't tried to strip away his basic rights, either.

"Yeah," he says, after a long and awkward pause. He seems genuinely stuck on what to say next. Then it occurs to him that everything he could say hinges on one very important fact, so:

"He's from 2013."

[hacker]

"2013."

She repeats it like he might correct her. He misspoke, obviously, and — But it doesn't happen. The year just lies on the table between them like a dead fish. It was the year they'd met. The year that she'd joined SHIELD, just before HYDRA emerged from SHIELD and separated itself like a conjoined evil twin.

He didn't even know about HYDRA. Daisy rubs her hands over her face. Breathes.

"So he's a time bomb." Not yet the guy who would introduce the Accords and change the life of anyone with any kind of superpower around the world, but a seed of him. He hadn't just woken up that guy one day. It'd been in there. Just like Ward had been in there.

She regards Fitz. Just like The Doctor had been in there. She drops her gaze quickly and cuts a single shake of her head to the side. If he thinks she's acting weird, it'll be worse. But Fitz is a time bomb too.

[technologist]

He's a time bomb. Fitz freezes for a second, caught in the headlights; the repetitive ticking of hard soles on concrete. Genius is just a tick away from madness.

He'd had the same thought. With a rush of shame and anxiety, first, and then with frantic scrabbling at equations and theories to keep them at bay. The edge had worn off with time. Each month past without any real problems was another excuse not to worry about it, but—

She's right. There's a dull spike of that old anxiety in the glance he gives her before dropping his gaze, just as quick.

"Maybe," he ventures, tone careful. "Or maybe not. Because things aren't just inevitable. They happen for a reason. Cause and effect. So we just," he looks up, trying to catch her gaze again; not assertive, seeking. "Make sure he hasn't got cause to go off."

[hacker]

"Sure, except, I don't know about you, but I wasn't tapping Tony Stark's search history for the past five years, charting exactly when he started casually browsing fascist policy." She wrestles her voice down to a hoarse shout-whisper. "We don't know if the cause has already happened or not."

Inevitable, no. Perhaps already set in motion? Maybe. Especially if he was seeking authority over the Rifters. Tony Stark always liked being the center of attention, so it could just be that. Or it could be a casual drift to the right, ending in Rifters all wearing pretty collars that the locals could leash them with, to use their powers only when permitted.