Coulson Squared

Food, Peru, and 200 Species of Snakes

Skye looked out the window, amazed at the miles and miles of thick forest that you were all flying over.

"Amazing, isn't it?" you smiled, gazing out of the next window.

"Yeah, it's like nothing I've ever seen," she agreed. "I mean, then again, I don't remember ever being outside of the United States."

"There's nothing wrong with that," you consoled her. "I didn't leave the US until I was an official SHIELD agent."

"Did your dad have anything to do with that?"

"Not really," you shrugged. "There was never any opportunity for me to go. And it's not like any reasonable person would send their teenage daughter out of the country without their supervision."

"No school trips, no wealthy friends, nothing?"

"Nope. I joined SHIELD the day that I turned 18. I should have started at level one like everyone else, but Director Fury likes me, so he put me at level four to begin with--that's where agents are able to go on field missions."

"That was basically his birthday present to you?" Skye smiled. "It's pretty cool to say that the director of SHIELD gave you a birthday present.

You laughed. "Pretty much, and my senior trip was my first mission. It was a couple of other younger agents, my dad, who was sent to--" you cleared your throat, "'supervise', and me. We were sent to Greece to inspect some recent recurring light shows with no visible cause."

"Let me guess--aliens?" she speculated. She walked over to the table where her water sat, then opened the bottle.

"Nah, the old Greek dude that reported it just had really bad eyesight. There were some paganist teenagers that were celebrating some ancient Greek holiday that week. So, we recommended an eye clinic for the old guy, celebrated with the surprisingly friendly teenagers one night, and went back to the states," you summed up. "Those kids made the best pasta flora I will ever eat. Good baklava,too."

"Pasta flora?"

"It's kind of like pie, but jam as the filling. Good stuff. They have it in South America, too, but they call it pastafrola."

Your father entered the room then. "I would not mind going back to Greece and getting more of that stuff," he commented. "Not at all."

"We could probably find a good recipe online," you said. "It wouldn't be the same, but--"

"We don't have an oven," he said quickly, dismissing the idea. "Otherwise, I would be all for it."

"Hey, we're going to Peru, anyway. We can just stop by Argentina and grab some pastafrola from a market," you suggested. "Have a Greek/South American style party tonight."

--

The plane landed a couple of hours later, and everyone split into two cars. You got into a white Peruvian vehicle with your dad, and everyone else piled into the black SHIELD one. Both you and your father were fluent in Spanish, so you conversed cordially with the driver. He was a nice guy. He was Peruvian born, and was studying Incan history on the site where the 0-8-4 was.

You came to a stop in the middle of a campsite, and everyone got out. "You go with Fitz and Simmons to investigate. I'll catch up with you in just a minute," your father explained.

"Okie dokie," you agreed.

Ward was all too quick to remove himself. "Tire tracks 40 meters back. I'll check them against the site's trucks--make sure we're alone," he said.

May followed closely, saying, "Too much exposure here. I'm gonna find a place to park."

Fitz and Simmons, however, were eager to investigate and see as much as they could of the country. "I would love to see a capuchin in the wild," Fitz commented. "Maybe even a yellow-tailed woolly monkey. You know, um, Peru has 32 different species of monkeys--"

Simmons cut him off, having heard enough over the years of Fitz's obsession with monkeys. "Yeah, and close to 200 species of snakes. The shushupe has a fascinating ven--" she paused as Fitz accidentally bumped the case containing the dwarves against the Peruvian Toyota. "Venom. It's neurotoxic, proteolytic, and hemolytic," she gushed, letting out a small laugh.

"That's fascinating," he acknowledged.

"I probably don't know as much as you do about Fitz, but I don't think he's too big of a fan of venomous snakes," you interjected, catching up to the two scientists.

Simmons looked back and noticed her partner's paling face. "Yeah. Oh. No, I'd be much more concerned with earthquakes, mala--" she let out another high pitched laugh as Fitz slapped a mosquito on his neck. "There's no vaccine for dengue fever," she smiled. "Oh, look at this," she breathed out in awe of the Incan temple.

You saw your father coming through the trees with Skye, and you walked over to meet them. Skye was arguing the point of warning the people about the potentially dangerous 0-8-4.

Your father sighed. "Remember the panic when that anti-matter meteor splashed down just off the coast of Miami, nearly devoured the city?" he asked her.

"No," she responded.

"Precisely. Because we kept it quiet and contained," he explained.

"Wait, Dad, I don't remember that, either," you commented.

"Because we kept it quiet and contained," he smiled.

"Good 'nuff for me," you shrugged. "As long as I get the full story later."

"Agreed. But, yes, Skye. You're not going to be posting anything about this," he articulated.

"So, what am I doing?" she asked, incredulous and a little confused.

"Well, if it gets out, I might need you to create some kind of diversion, put the public on the wrong scent," Phil replied.

"So everything that I'm against," Skye said.

"Yep," he affirmed.

"You'll live," you assured her, patting her on the shoulder.

The Peruvian professor met you just outside the temple, and your father took the initiative to greet him. "Good morning, Professor. I'm Agent Coulson with SHIELD, this is my daughter, and we understand you've made an interesting discovery," he said.

"I-I'm not sure how to explain it," the man stuttered. "This temple dates back at least 500 years. It's filled with pre-Incan artifacts. One of them is impossible and looks like it might be dangerous."

"Well, that's why we're here," Phil smiled.

"It's kind of our specialty," you agreed.