The Offer
"You ever heard of Zodiac?"
"Blake, I called you, remember?"
"Yeah, Coulson, you're trying to recruit me. But, I'll bet you're short a few guys, so I'm going to make my pitch first."
Felix Blake took the cup of coffee off the diner table and sipped it, made a sad face and put it back down.
"Told you we should've gone for the food truck."
"Do you know what Zodiac does?" asked Blake.
"No," said Coulson.
"It's still around," said Blake. "Romanov and Rogers came across it just before SHIELD went down. Rumlow was with them."
"Meaning, HYDRA," Coulson sighed.
"The other thing, this stuff's been around since '46," he said. He waited to see what Coulson would do.
"Yup," he replied.
"Yup, you know, or yup, whatever?" asked Blake.
"I know Agent Carter took it into possession, pretty cool story," he said. "That's when Stark brought her on."
"Hey, don't give me a SHIELD history lesson. Did you know we never sent it upstairs to burn?"
They paused for a moment as the waitress came and put a plate of pancakes in front of Coulson. He smiled warmly at her.
"Thank you, Bettie. Do you have any blueberry syrup, by chance?"
She winked at him. "Let me look. Refill?" she asked, looking at Blake through her horn-rimmed glasses.
He waved his hand over the top of the cup. Watched her walk away.
"Who's interviewing who?" asked Coulson smugly.
"I am. Did you know where SHIELD had the Zodiac?"
"No. Level 8, remember?"
"My specialty," said Blake, "Are the things that slip through the cracks."
"That was never your specialty," deadpanned Coulson.
"My NEW specialty," said Blake, "Are the things that slip through the cracks."
He pursed his lips and folded his hands neatly on the table in front of him. Waited.
"So, you want me to give you access to unlimited resources, alien technology, and a team of experts, so you can look for Bigfoot?"
"Unlimited? You're working the upsell a little hard there, Mr. Director."
Bettie came back with a frowny face and some raspberry syrup.
"That's great," Coulson shrugged as she put it down. He smiled vaguely, waited until she left.
"Blake," he said, putting both palms down on the table, "I need feet on the ground right now. Not people chasing special projects."
"You are a special project," said Blake.
"Cold hearted," replied Coulson.
"By the way, I never asked," Blake started, his eyebrows raising.
"Don't," started Coulson.
"The Consultant...Agent..."
Coulson rubbed his eyes. He went there.
"I mean, I've seen you work the system before," said Blake leaning over. "But forcing Hand to give your Consultant Agent status? That was a brilliant play."
"She must be, what? Assistant Director by now?"
Coulson's eyes shot open, glared back at Blake.
"Hey, your SHIELD, your business," he continued, putting his hands up.
"If you're insinuating that Skye making agent was because of anything less than her dedication and personal sacrifice to our team..."
"Relax, I just know which button to push," Blake said slyly. "You know, for awhile there, I thought you were the Clairvoyant. Unorthodox behavior, for example, setting up your Rising Tide girl with SHIELD access," he replied.
"Yes, and while you were sleeping, Hand was putting my Bus full of bullets based on that helpful theory."
Blake sighed.
"What I need is some autonomy, Coulson," he said. "I get cagey when I'm trapped at HQ. My head starts going places."
"You're a good analyst, Blake," he said, blowing off steam, "But, I can't have you off on your own. We're not working that way anymore."
Coulson poured the raspberry syrup over the top of the pancakes, looked at the butter on top. Betrayal. Unmelted. The pancakes had gone cold.
Blake suddenly brightened up. "What about May?" he asked.
"What about her?" said Coulson slowly.
"We've worked together before, I like how she operates. She's straight. And I know she can keep me in line."
"Now who's angling?" asked Coulson, smirking. He pushed the pancakes away from him.
"Zodiac is more than just a weapon," Blake said. He took a flash drive out of his pocket and put it on the table.
"What will this cost me?" asked Coulson.
"A decent cup of coffee."
Coulson put his hand over the flash drive, slid it off the table and into his pocket.
"You're on."