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Daniel turned back towards Mack, and suddenly felt incredibly awkward. He had not intended to have an audience when he kissed Daisy, let alone one that included (or was solely comprised of) the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Who had more or less ordered him to go after her in the first place. But - still. Awkward.
Daniel strode back up the platform with a brief embarrassed glance at Mack, and turned to study the computer screen. The display was fairly meaningless to him, but it was something to look at.
"Impressive," Mack said simply. He sounded sincere.
"Thank you." The director was an odd man, but he wasn't wrong.
****
Sibyl disappeared from the screen unceremoniously, as if she had no further time for the ants she was crushing beneath her boot.
Every S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Gone. On my watch. "It can't be true," Mack almost believed it, but he couldn't process it.
"I'm sure it's not," Sousa tried to assure him.
"We didn't come this far to fail. Not like this. Not to a bunch of - " He couldn't stomach the word.
"Robots," Sousa finished.
Mack grunted and kicked a nearby crate in frustration. It was empty, and the effort felt hollow, but it made a satisfying clatter.
"She has to be lying," Sousa said. But why would she bother? "Lighthouse can survive anything. We just have to get back down to it. Regroup."
That might be true, but, if every other S.H.I.E.L.D. base in the world was gone, what was the point? "It's too late for that," Mack objected. He'd already failed.
"We owe Daisy, Simmons, and Deke a way out of here when they get back," Sousa tried to refocus him.
"Yeah," Mack acknowledged. "We do owe them that." They could do that much, at least. Or try. Mack appreciated the redirection. Alright, let's do this. "There's no reason to be quiet anymore. Let's make some noise. Let's blow those hangar doors to pieces."
It felt gratifying to launch a pair of missiles at the doors. This whole mission had been a precision op from the get go, requiring a delicate touch to make ripples, not waves, as they traveled through time. Mack appreciated subtly, in moderation. But it felt damn good to -
Nothing. Not a scratch on the hangar doors as the missiles hit their target.
"What else do we have?" Daniel asked.
Mack checked the monitor, and saw six blue bodies converging on their position. "We've got incoming," he said as he rooted around in a storage container for a particular device.
"When I asked if you had something else, I mean something bigger… and more powerful," Sousa criticized as Mack began resetting the grenade-sized weapon.
"Well I don't see you coming up with any more brilliant ideas," Mack retorted.
"Wish I could disagree."
Ah, hell. Sousa had been so damn useful and unflappable since joining them on the Zephyr, that Mack kept forgetting he was working at a disadvantage. Brilliant ideas were difficult to come by when your information was half a century behind. And Sousa never let that get in the way of helping. So it was easy to snipe at him as if he were any other member of the team.
"Hey look. For a guy who was ripped from his own timeline, who ended up on a spaceship full of robots, you're not doing half bad," Mack said by way of an apology.
Six leather-clad Chronicoms marched up the loading ramp. Where do they get these outfits - Bad Guys-R-Us?
"Follow my lead," he said to Sousa. There wasn't going to be much lead to follow, but it was better than announcing he was about to fry their circuits in one blow.
"We are here to take your faces," announced one of the identikit Hollywood gangster rejects.
"Lord knows you could do a lot better than the ones you're wearing now," Mack quipped.
"I'm pretty sure they don't understand sarcasm," was Sousa's constructive feedback.
Yeah, well, it made Mack feel better. "They'll understand this."
Mack pulled Sousa down as he unleashed the weapon, releasing a blue wave of energy that knocked out all six adversaries' systems, laying them flat.
Daniel laughed like a kid at the sight. "If that wasn't egg in your beer!" Mack assumed that was a good thing, although it didn't sound appetizing. "How many more of those do you have?"
"That's it." But they did have six of the Chronicoms' own weapons now, which helped. Mack stooped to grab one. "We just have to hold them off long enough for Daisy to get back with Simmons and Deke."
"And then?"
They exchanged looks. Mack was running out of brilliant ideas himself.
"One problem at a time," Sousa agreed, dismayed.
Mack did have one last trick up his sleeve - at least to help them hold out for the time being. And if they couldn't find a way out through the hangar door, it would help bring every last robot he could down with him, too. He traded the Chronicom rifle for his own trusty shotgun axe, and pulled out Deke's special rounds.
"Deke reconfigured these shells with an electrical disruption charge. A single shot should drop a Chronicom," he explained as he loaded his shotgun.
"Great. How many shells do we have?" Sousa asked.
"Maybe 50."
"50? Wow. That's real peachy."
What? Seriously? "Did you just say peachy?" Mack asked. Exactly how straight and narrow is this guy?
"Yeah," Sousa confirmed, confused.
Mack grunted, recalling Daisy's comment: Whatever, he's a dork. "If we get out of here, I gotta get you some new words." Mack didn't doubt that Sousa could update his knowledge and skills to the 21st century. The man could adapt to anything. But Mack couldn't help feeling a little responsible for throwing him at Daisy, who was going to eat him alive if he insisted on being so… wholesome. "And don't let Daisy hear you talking like that."
"Why? Does it mean something bad now?"
"No, it's…" Mack let his criticism die. Sousa didn't even seem to care about his image - only that his language didn't offend anyone. Daisy had found herself a rare species of terribly upstanding man. Good for her. "Nevermind. It's a fine word. And you're a fine man." He sighed and changed the subject back to the problem at hand. "I just can't believe it's gonna be robots that take us out in the end."
"If this really is the end, shouldn't we take out as many of them as possible?"
Good to know they were thinking along the same lines. "Even more than 50?" Mack joked, starting to feel upbeat again.
Daniel whipped out a knife and started cutting into a Chronicom. He outlined a plan for a bomb that would do some serious damage and send them out in style, should the worst happen.
Apparently, his new friend had a brilliant idea or two left, after all.
Although, Mack would have to admit they got a little carried away with making a contraption with the most explosive power possible. It took Deke to pull them up short and remind them that they still needed an exit strategy.
Luckily, Mack could engineer a delivery system for their bomb and, at the same time, keep Sousa from getting his fool self killed going after Daisy.
Duct tape. All the fancy S.H.I.E.L.D. tech in the world couldn't beat it.
****
"It's about time," the director said as Daniel reported that he'd be joining Daisy's team.
"It's been a week," Daniel countered.
"Yeah, what took you two so long to work it out?" Mack taunted lightly.
"You do realize that we just met, what, two weeks ago?" This conversation was not going the way Daniel expected.
"You met in 1955." And Mack was enjoying it far too much.
"And Daisy was in recovery from dying in space." Daniel's temper began to crack through the surface. He paused to take a breath, and continued in a calmer voice, "We didn't do those things in 1955. Recover from death or go into space."
Mack leaned back in the chair and regarded Daniel across the spanse of his desk. He let out a quiet grunt, and picked up Daniel's file.
"I'm sorry. Sometimes it feels like we came the long way around from 1931." Mack paused, and changed the subject. "I thought space might be the right move for you. You're not used to the 21st century. And the 21st century isn't used to deep space exploration. If you've got a lot of catching up to do, well at least that's the same as everybody else."
"Thank you, sir, that makes sense. I think," Daniel replied.
"And I promise not to be too hard on you about Daisy. Just about the job."
Unexpectedly, Daniel found laughter bubbling up in his throat. Mack looked at him, confused.
"I'm sorry, sir, it's just - " he couldn't get words in between wheezes. "Hard on me?" It took a moment to breathe calmly enough to finish. "My last boss was Hydra. And he had me killed."
It really wasn't funny. The pair of them dissolved into laughter, anyway.
****
Mack caught the warning signs. Danger was imminent. Sousa needed a rescue ASAP. He ran towards his friend, reaching out -
"No. No sweater vests," Mack ordered, pulling the hangar out of Sousa's hand and putting it decisively back on the rack. "Stick with the button downs and slacks. It's working for you."
Sousa opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but acquiesced.
Close call. It was a good thing he'd offered his help on Daniel's first 21st century shopping trip. The man's language was one thing, but Mack was not about to let him walk around looking like Revenge of the Nerds.
There was, however, a good looking leather jacket in sight at 2:00, 10 yards away. He made his way over to it.
"That's quite the aesthetic," Daniel observed, following him. "Not really my style, though."
"No, but it is mine."
Mack pulled the largest size off the wall and swung it around to slip it on. It fit his shoulders surprisingly well, and felt like butter.
"What do you think? Too Director Fury?" Mack asked, knowing Daniel had seen pictures by now.
Sousa shook his head. "Not without the eye patch. I think the modern turn of phrase is 'pulling it off?'"
Mack found a mirror. "Hmm. Not bad. I'll take it." He noticed Daniel over his shoulder in the reflection, investigating a rack of Hawaiian shirts. "Not those, either!" Mack ordered.
****
Daniel stepped out of Daisy's safehouse unit to investigate the early morning ruckus. Mack and Yo-Yo were coming down the stairs, armed with their duffle bags and excited banter.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?" Daniel asked, quietly closing the door behind him in an effort to let Daisy sleep in.
"We're moving across town, not across the planet," Mack said as he hit the landing and turned around to face Daniel. "Tell Daisy, dinner at our place at 19:00. And I want you two to get me your proposal for preliminary mission parameters before I leave HQ. I'm cooking tonight."
"And he can't get home as fast as I can," Elena interjected.
"Understood," Daniel replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the door. He had a feeling he wasn't off the hook yet. Daisy and Daniel weren't fooling anyone about where Daniel spent his nights - not that they were really trying. But nobody had actually caught him in the morning yet, and Mack and Elena were exchanging smug smiles.
"Are you still using your unit?" Mack asked, jerking his thumb behind him at the door across the hall. "I just need to know what's available. For when we start getting your new team posted here for training. You understand." Mack did not sound sincere.
"I'll talk to Daisy and get back to you," Daniel deflected dryly.
Mack pointed back and forth between the two doors. "Are you even allowed to do that without making an honest woman out of her?" he asked, laughing at his own joke.
"Will it be pistols at dawn for impugning the lady's honor, sir, or swords?" Daniel shot back. Mack had been true to his promise - he wasn't too hard on Daniel about Daisy. But he did walk right on the line. The best thing to do about it was to dish it right back at him.
"Come on, Mack, leave him alone." Elena tugged at Mack's arm. "See you tonight, Sousa." Daniel would be grateful to her for the escape, except the next words out of her mouth as they turned to leave were "Now you owe me $20. I told you Daisy works fast."
Daniel shook his head as he reentered the unit. Daisy was awake and sitting on the couch, smirking at him. Clearly, she'd heard everything.
"Gee, thanks for the rescue," he said without an ounce of actual gratitude as he plopped down next to her.
"If it makes you feel any better, that's not the first time that they've made a bet about us," she said, wriggling in under his arm.
"Funny enough, it doesn't."
She draped a hand on his chest, resting it over his heart.
"Just keep doing what you're doing, and I'll get over it," he said, laying his hand on hers and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"I don't care where you hang your hat, Sousa. Just be here when I wake up, okay?"
"I'm following you into space, woman, do you think I care about where I get dressed?" he scoffed.
"Mmm. I guess not. I do care about where you get undressed though, just to be clear." She toyed with his shirt button. "But you'd follow a toaster if it meant going into space, so save your flattery."
Daisy rose abruptly and retreated to the bathroom with an impish smile. Disappointingly, she did not look back a second time, which he would recognize as an invitation to join her in the shower. But he was learning her language, which he enjoyed nonetheless.
Daniel smiled and reached for his phone to open Spotify. He was getting used to the 21st century, and the people in it. And wasn't that just swell? (Not that he'd say so to Mack.)