in some other time

by Nazezdha321

Summary:

"Maisie Fitz-Simmons meets Isabelle Shaw when she is nine years old.

She doesn't know that Isabelle's real name isn't Isabelle Shaw, it's Isabelle Morse-Hunter. She doesn't know that Isabelle has a brother. She doesn't know that Isabelle's dog, Idaho, isn't named after the state.

But from the moment she meets Izzy, they're inseparable."

Or, the origin story of Deke Shaw's parents, based off one of my headcanons.

Notes:

This little gem surprised me by appearing in my mind today and I had to get it down and by the time I did... I decided I wanted to post it. So here we are. Enjoy <3

Chapter 1: Soon Enough

Maisie Margaret Fitz-Simmons was born in Perthshire nine years ago, and that's where her family spends most of their breaks from school and their summers.

 

Her mum and dad both express interest in moving there several times, but Mum told Dad one night when she thought Maisie wasn't listening that they have to be 'close to the base in case of emergency' and Dad didn't press it any further.

 

Maisie doesn't mind. She likes San Diego. She likes the zoo and the beach. She likes the authentic Mexican food and nice weather. She likes the creatures and the amusement parks and the people. 

 

"Maisie, are you awake?" Mum asks. 

 

Maisie hides under a pillow, clutching her old monkey stuffed animal, and doesn't answer. 

 

"Maisie?" she says, and Maisie hears her door open and the footsteps as her mother walks in. "Don't think I don't know that you're awake." 

 

Maisie groans, taking the pillow off her head. Mum laughs, pulling back the covers and taking Maisie's hand. "Get up, darling, today's your first day of school!" 

 

"First day of fifth grade, Mum, not kindergarten." 

 

"American schools are..." 

 

"Confusing?" 

 

"To say the least." 

 

"America is confusing." 

 

"That it is." 

 

"How come we don't move to Perthshire, then?" Maisie asks as she sits up in her bed, hoping to get a real answer out of her mother this time. 

 

Mum shakes her head. "We have a perfect life here." 

 

Maisie can't argue with that.

 

- - -

 

Isabelle Mackenzie Morse-Hunter was seven years old when she moved for the fifth time. Now she's nine years old, and her name is Isabelle Mackenzie Shaw. Mom won't explain why they can't go by Morse-Hunter anymore, but she told Izzy and her brother, Owen, that it was important, and she said it in her serious voice. Izzy still doesn't like 'Shaw,' but she's learned to live with it. 

 

Owen likes their new last name, but that's only because he's stupid and also a suck-up. He's such a suck-up that he laughs at Dad's jokes. And they aren't even funny. 

 

"Isabelle! Time to go, love!" Dad calls up the stairs. Izzy likes the new house - it's yellow, with a red front door and a big back door for her mini corgi, Idaho. Dad nearly cried when Izzy said that she was naming him Idaho. 

 

Mom and Dad don't talk much about her namesake, Isabelle Hartley, but when they do, Izzy listens. Dad mentioned how he and Idaho and Izzy were partners-in-crime. Mom told them later, on the anniversary of Hartley's death when Dad left for a few hours to go to her grave, that Idaho and Izzy died by each other's side in a car crash. 

 

She would rather not die, but Izzy Shaw could get used to a partner-in-crime, which is why Idaho is always by her side. 

 

"Come on!" Izzy hisses, nudging Idaho. He's sitting on one of the straps of her backpack, and he's not a very big dog, but Izzy doesn't want to lift him off. Luckily, Idaho leaps off as soon as her skin brushes his fur, freeing the strap from underneath him. Izzy grabs the backpack, slinging it around her shoulders, and dashes for the stairs, Idaho following as best he can on his tiny legs. 

 

"Isabelle Mackenzie!" Mom calls just as Izzy slides into the kitchen. "Don't want to be late for the first day, do you?" 

 

Izzy laughs and instinctually snatches a pancake out of her air as it flips towards her. Mom swats Dad. "You're going to mess up the new kitchen!" 

 

Dad smiles. "But you love me for it." And it's true, she does. They're so in love it's almost too much for Izzy to bear. 

 

Izzy finishes her pancake and sneaks the last bite to Idaho in her lap. "Mom, can I bring Idaho?" Izzy begs as her dad grabs the camera and her mom grabs the keys. 

 

"No dogs at school," Mom replies. 

 

"What about cats?" Owen asks, holding a familiar - furrmilier, Izzy thought, smiling at the pun - cat in his arms. 

 

Mom smiles at the feline. "Guess Nat wants us to babysit. Or Liho got sick of Clint and Lucky." 

 

Liho mews in agreement as Idaho barks happily at the sight of her return. 

 

"Don't think she'll find much refuge here, love," Dad remarks. "Owen, Izzy, smile and look like you love each other." 

 

Owen smiles shyly and obediently puts his arm around Izzy's shoulders while she cradles Idaho and gives her dazzling (if she does say so herself) smile. 

 

"You're supposed to tell them to say cheese!" 

 

"Why? Cheese never did anything." 

 

Izzy takes advantage of the distraction provided by their playful argument to slip Idaho into her backpack, carefully nestling him among her folders and making sure he's comfortable before zipping it up partway so he can breathe. She can't leave him behind.

 

They're partners in crime, after all. 

 

- - -

 

Maisie does not like elementary school. 

 

For one thing, Mum and Dad refuse to move her up in grade level (Mum doesn't want to attract too much attention to them and Dad agrees with her), and for another, Maisie is going to be the only one with a Scottish accent. 

 

In the whole school. 

 

"Nainai says to tell you she hopes you have a great day," Mum reads off her phone. 

 

Maisie attempts to raise an eyebrow, but she ends up raising both of them. Whatever the look is, she's unimpressed. "Nainai would never." 

 

"She said to tell you to kick arse," Dad admits. 

 

"She didn't say 'arse,' either." 

 

"Maybe, she's an adult, and you're nine years old and therefore required to follow the rules about cursing in our house," Mom points out. 

 

Their car rolls up behind a black Prius in a line that snakes all around the building as parents drop off their children. Maisie watches as a woman gestures to both the Prius and her own car, telling them both that it's their turn. Maisie tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she slowly unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her backpack. 

 

"Have a good first day, little monkey," Dad says. 

 

"We love you," Mum adds. 

 

"Love you too," Maisie replies. 

 

She steps out of the car. 

 

- - -

 

Mom and Dad drop off Izzy (and Idaho, but they don't know that) before they drop off Owen. Izzy has never been in a school without her brother. He was always just one year up. 

 

But she's got her partner - what else does she need? 

 

"Mrs. Moss' fifth grade class, come line up over here!" calls a woman with a pixie haircut and glasses. Everyone in her line looks shorter than Izzy. Which is normal, considering that Izzy inherited her mother's height. 

 

My name is Isabelle Mackenzie Morse-Hunter - well, Shaw, but I don't like that - I am nine years old, and my partner is a mini corgi named Idaho who is also in my backpack. I have lived in three countries, I have a brother named Owen, and everyone in my family is a secret agent but they don't know I know.

 

Izzy takes her spot in line behind a girl with long brown hair in a braid and startling blue eyes. The girl is facing her, and she smiles shyly. 

 

"Hi," she says. 

 

"Hi," Izzy replies. 

 

- - -

 

My name is Maisie Margaret Fitz-Simmons, I am nine and a half years old, and when I grow up, I'm going to be a bioengineer. I am Scottish, I love Mexican food, and my aunts and my grandmother could kick your - arse. 

 

"I'm Maisie Fitz-Simmons," Maisie introduces herself, holding out her hand for a handshake. 

 

"I'm Isabelle. Isabelle Shaw," says the girl. She looks around suspiciously, then takes Maisie's hand and whispers, "Can I trust you with a secret?" 

 

"Yes," Maisie whispers back. I'm pretty sure my parents work for a secret government organization. Of course I can keep a secret. 

 

"My dog's in my backpack." 

 

Maisie's forced smile becomes genuine, and now that she's looked, the backpack does seem heavier than it should be. "Really?" 

 

"Really. His name is Idaho." 

 

"Isn't that a state?" 

 

"Yeah. Have you lived there?" "

 

"My accent is Scottish, not Idahoan." 

 

"Duh. I was asking 'cause I've lived there." 

 

"Duh?" 

 

"My dad's from England." 

 

"Oh. Can I see your dog?" Maisie replies, still speaking in a hushed voice. Isabelle smiles and sets her backpack on the ground in front of her. They both crouch as Isabelle fully unzips it. Sure enough, a tiny corgi is in there. He can't be bigger than ten pounds, even though Maisie's neighbor has a 27-pound corgi. He's adorable. 

 

"We're partners," Isabelle says proudly. She glances at Maisie then asks tentatively, "Would you like to be our third partner?" 

 

"Like a trio?" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"Okay."

 

"Really?" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

- - -

 

"We shouldn't be spying on them," Daisy sighs. May watches as both girls step back into line and walk into school together, hands intertwined. Daisy's right. They shouldn't be spying on Maisie and Isabelle. But she had to make sure that they'd be okay. And she had to make sure they wouldn't be interacting (which they most definitely are, so that can go to hell). When Bobbi told her what school Izzy would be attending this year, May couldn't believe it. 

She also decided not to tell FitzSimmons. She figured the girls would be in separate classes, or they wouldn't even notice one another, or... 

 

She was a fool to think so. They're the children of three of her best agents and one idiotic mercenary who May will never admit she misses. They're practically drawn to one another. 

 

"Isabelle and Maisie. What did we expect would happen?" May asks. 

 

"This. Or we should have." 

 

May inclines her head in acknowledgment. 

 

"Do we tell either family?" Daisy asks. 

 

May shrugs. "By the looks of it, they'll find out soon enough." 

Chapter 2: We Got Us

Notes:

Season 7 spoilers below so please don't read these notes if you haven't seen the finale yet <3

Last warning!

Okay, so because we got... a lot, including our lovely canon FitzSimmons baby girl (Alya I would die for you), I feel the need to address some stuff about this fic and its future:

1). First and foremost, yes, we are continuing with this little fic of mine. It's suddenly become a lot bigger after I plotted it. Like... wow, really big. I have an entire bulletin board dedicated to this. So we're here for the long haul.

2). I won't be changing Maisie's name to Alya. I adore Alya with all of my soul and I probably will write some fics about her soon, but Maisie as a character just feels more complete with that specific name. I think if I had known her name would be Alya... I think her personality would be different, somehow. I don't know. I guess a name really can change your perception of a person.

3). Season 7 doesn't even apply here, to be fair. The timeline for this fic is very wonky - we aren't compliant with the finale of season 5 (well, we're compliant up until Fitz dying) and anything past that, and we aren't compliant with the alternate timeline of season 5 (you know, the one where the world actually cracked apart).

4). You're welcome to ask me anything in the comments or on tumblr (same username) about this fic, provided it doesn't give spoilers, in which case I'll just reply with 'spoilers' or something slightly funnier that gets the same point across.

Aaaaand that's about it!

Enjoy and ask if you have any questions <3

There are All About Me worksheets.

 

Maisie thought that they had gotten past the juvenile All About Me papers when they passed first grade, but apparently not. She doesn't particularly hate them, she just doesn't find the appeal. Why not write a paragraph on something actually interesting about yourself instead of filling out a little sheet explaining to others what your hair color is? They can see her, after all. They know what she looks like. 

 

Nevertheless, she goes through with filling out her sheet, because Ms. Sise asked them to and she likes following the rules. It makes her feel nice. 

 

At least they got to pick seats. Ms. Sise, her fifth grade teacher, called out everyone's names for attendance. Everyone stared at Maisie when she replied 'present' and she still didn't know if it was because they all said 'here' or because of her accent. Probably both. It didn't matter. Izzy glared at every single classmate of theirs ferociously until they looked away and as soon as Ms. Sise told them to find their desks, Izzy dashed to their nearest pair of desks and practically threw herself on top of them. 

 

Maisie has never known anyone like Isabelle. 

 

She's amazing. 

 

"'Name'," Izzy reads. "This is so stupid." 

 

"Full name," Maisie replies softly. "Write your full name." 

 

"Why?" 

 

"Because I'd like to know your full name." 

 

"You can just ask," Izzy points out. 

 

"Would you tell me?" 

 

"... no." 

 

"Precisely." 

 

"What's your full name?" 

 

"Maisie Margaret Fitz-Simmons," Maisie murmurs. She likes her name. She understands exactly why she was named what she is named. Maisie, a combination of May and Daisy. Or, Maisie's Nainai and her aunt. Margaret, like Peggy Carter. Mum idolizes Peggy Carter, though Maisie has a sneaking suspicion that's not the only reason why Margaret is her middle name. And of course, Fitz-Simmons, which is her parents' last names hypenated. Aunt Daisy said that they were called that before they got married, like a nickname for the pair of them. Maisie likes that. It makes sense. 

 

Maisie likes it when things make sense. 

 

"Why'd you tell me if I wasn't going to tell you?" Izzy asks. 

 

"Because I don't mind you knowing," Maisie answers. She fills in her age (nine and a half) and her favorite color (blue) and the names of her parents (Leopold James Fitz-Simmons and Jemma Anne Fitz-Simmons). She fills in her favorite food (chili con carne) and what she wants to be when she grows up (a biological engineer). The worksheet is rudimentary, and it would be boring if Maisie wasn't focused on decorating it beautifully. 

 

Izzy sighs. "Isabelle Mackenzie." 

 

"What?" Maisie asks, looking up from her meticulously organized sheet. 

 

"Isabelle Mackenzie. My name," Izzy clarifies. 

 

Maisie beams at her. 

 

- - -

 

She isn't lying to Maisie if she doesn't add the Morse-Hunter, right? 

Isabelle Mackenzie Morse-Hunter is her full name, but she never technically said that Isabelle Mackenzie was her full name. She just said her name. Mom and Dad made her swear up and down that she wouldn't tell anyone, not anyone, about her last name. They told her that they were in danger if she didn't. And if she didn't say that it was her full name... she isn't lying to her new partner? Her new best friend? She can't lie to Maisie. Izzy has only known Maisie for a few hours, but she loves her already. Maybe that's how it is with partners-and-best-friends. 

 

"What did you put as your favorite color?" she asks Maisie, trying to get the thought out of her head. 

 

"Blue," Maisie replies. "B is for Blue is for Biological. And it's a nice color." 

 

"That's my mom's favorite color," Izzy tells her. 

 

"My mum likes white. Because it's all the colors reflected. So it's like a rainbow. Kind of," Maisie says. 

 

"Cool." 

 

"What did you put as your favorite color?" 

 

"Black," Izzy says. 

 

"Black is not a color," Maisie informs her. 

 

Izzy frowns. "Is too. It's a neutral color." 

 

"It's the absence or absorbtion of colors." 

 

"If white is a color, why isn’t black?” 

 

“White isn’t a color, it’s all of them. Reflected.” 

 

Izzy knows not to argue with Maisie. Not over something stupid and science-y. Maisie is smart - really smart, the kind of genius you hear about on the news at the end when they give inspirational stories. Besides, she's pretty sure that Aunt Daisy has said those same words to Nainai before. 

 

"Blue, then," Izzy says, erasing the word from the page and rewriting 'blue' in blue colored pencil. 

 

"That's my favorite color." 

 

"I know." 

 

"Now we match." 

 

"Isabelle, Maisie," Ms. Sise chides. 

 

Izzy frowns. Jessica hasn't stopped talking all morning. Why is Ms. Sise calling them out and not her?  She sneaks a glance at their classmate. She's arguing with Sam. And Ms. Sise never even said they had to be quiet! She just told them to fill out the All About Me sheets. 

 

Maisie nudges her foot. Stop looking like you're going to murder someone, she mouths. 

 

I might, Izzy says (does she really say anything if she doesn't use her voice?). 

 

Her friend sighs and goes back to her worksheet. 

 

Izzy does too. 

 

- - -

 

"My name is Maisie Margaret Fitz-Simmons, I am nine and a half years old, and I'm Scottish," Maisie begins. Her All About Me paper is underneath the document camera on Ms. Sise's desk, projecting onto a screen. And she is presenting it. She glances at Isabelle, who grins at her and gestures to a tiny head poking out of the backpack in her lap. Idaho. "My favorite color is blue, my favorite food is chili con carne, and I would like to be a biological engineer when I grow up. My mum's name is Jemma Anne Fitz-Simmons, and she's a biochemist, and my dad's name is Leopold James Fitz-Simmons, and he's an engineer. My favorite animal is a monkey or a swan and my favorite activity is stargazing with my parents." 

 

Ms. Sise nods kindly, beaming at Maisie. Izzy is smiling too, though Idaho has since tucked his head back inside in the backpack again. 

 

"Isabelle, would you like to go next?" their teacher asks. 

 

"Sure," Izzy says. 

 

She walks to the front of the room while Maisie sits down behind her desk. 

 

"My name is Isabelle Mackenzie Shaw. I'm nine, my favorite colors are blue and black," Izzy flashes a grin at Maisie, who shakes her head. "I like dinosaur chicken nuggets and I want to be a spy when I grow up. My mom's name is Bobbi, spelled B-O-B-B-I and it's short for Barbara but she hates that, and my dad's name is Lance and he won't tell me or my brother Owen what that's short for. My favorite animal is a mockingbird and my favorite activity is tai chi with Nainai." 

 

Ms. Sise looks surprised. 

 

Maisie is confused. 

 

Tai chi with Nainai? Her Nainai does that with her too, and Mum and Dad said that most people have a Grandma or Grammy or Nana instead of a Nainai. Of course, they live in a rather large city with lots of people from different backgrounds. Maybe that's it. 

 

"Kathryn, would you like to go next?" 

 

- - -

 

"How was it?" is the first thing that comes out of Dad's mouth as Izzy slides into the car. Idaho is worn out after a day of hiding in Izzy's backpack under her desk and running in the tall grass in the field during recess. He's sleeping quietly, snuggled up against Izzy's homework, as she carefully put her backpack in the middle seat of the car. 

 

"Can Maisie come for a sleepover?" Izzy asks. 

 

"Who's Maisie?" Mom asks at the same times Dad says, 

 

"Daisy?" 

 

"Not Aunt Daisy, you guys said she can't come over neither can Nainai and we can only FaceTime," Izzy replies. "My best friend, Maisie, M-A-I-S-I-E. She's a Scottish genius, she wants to be a bioengineer, she likes monkeys and swans. I want her to come over so we can save the world and do our project for the science fair and play with Idaho." 

 

The car is silent for a moment until Owen says, "So you had a good day?" 

 

- - -

 

"Monkey!" Mum cries as soon as Maisie gets into the car. "How was it?" 

 

"Can I please go to Izzy's for a sleepover?" Maisie begs. 

 

Mum and Dad exchange looks. "Who's Izzy?" 

 

"My best friend! She snuck her dog to school, Mum! His name is Idaho, like the state," Maisie explains. 

 

Mum clears her throat. "Who did you say she was?" 

 

"Isabelle Mackenzie Shaw. She prefers Izzy," she answers. 

 

"Shaw?" Dad says, his eyes widening. 

 

"Fitz!" Mum hisses. "How was your day, Maisie?"

 

"It was good, Ms. Sise is a nice teacher, but we aren't learning anything about quadratic equations this year. Can please I go to Izzy's?" 

 

- - -

 

"Shaw," Fitz mutters darkly as Jemma pulls the covers up to her waist. She flips to face him. 

 

"Fitz, Deke isn't that bad," she says. "You're being dramatic. Maisie has a friend!" 

 

"A friend named Isabelle with a dog named Idaho," he replies. "Doesn't that sound familiar?" 

 

Jemma nods and smiles sadly. "Of course. But it's a coincidence. Think about it, Isabelle is a common name - " 

 

"Isabelle Mackenzie?" 

 

"Both are common names, and Idaho is... well, you never know, they could be from Idaho. Perhaps that's why. Or perhaps the girl just likes the name!" 

 

"Isabelle, Mackenzie, Idaho," Fitz counts. "That's too much to be a coincidence. Even with the Shaw." 

 

Jemma bites her lip. He's right. But then... "This is absurd. They can't... Bobbi and Hunter left. You said Hunter said that they were on the run. He said that they were taking a break!" 

 

"Yeah, but that was a long time ago. And they could still be on the run - Jemma, they could have changed their last names!" Fitz whisper-shouts, and Jemma gives him the don't wake up Maisie look. 

 

"Are we really considering that this Isabelle is the daughter of Bobbi and Hunter?" she asks. 

 

Fitz sighs after a long moment. "I know it's..." 

 

"Bobbi and Hunter and long gone. They are far away from here, maybe they aren't even together, but they don't have a nine-year-old girl who goes to our daughter's school and is her new best friend," Jemma says firmly. Fitz nods.

 

But as she turns the lights off, Jemma can't shake the feeling that it isn't Fitz who's she trying to convince. Maybe she doesn't want to deal in the possibilities because she's afraid of being wrong. 

 

She shuts off the light and buries the feeling in the little box on her imaginary dresser she had when she was seven years old. 

 

- - -

 

Bobbi takes off her necklace. She had another interview today for a job she doesn't want, a job that will never compare to the one she had. To the life she had. And now, with this Maisie who's a Scottish genius who wants to be a bioengineer who likes monkeys... 

 

"You're doing it again, love," Hunter murmurs from behind her. 

 

"What?" Bobbi asks, putting the necklace on the little jewelry stand next to the sink and turning around to face him. 

 

"You're thinking about - what we left behind." 

 

"Not what, Hunter. Who. This Maisie, she - " 

 

"Bobbi. We promised each other we wouldn't do this," Hunter says, grabbing her hand. "We've done what we've done. We've made the choice we've made. We can't go back any more than anyone else can. The only thing we can do is be here, in the moment. For each other. For Owen and Izzy. And if you have to wake me up most nights so I won't face my nightmares alone, you will. And if I have to hold your hand when you get your flu vaccine every year, I will. You know why?" 

 

Bobbi nods. It's their mantra now. 

 

"We got us, right?" he asks. 

 

"We got us," Bobbi whispers back, and she buries her face in her husband's shoulder as she begins to cry, knowing he muffle the sound enough so their kids aren't woken up. 

 

We got us. 

Chapter 3: It's Tradition

Notes:

be glad i didn't rant about elementary school dress codes

(also this chapter is dedicated to birdie, q, and al, ily <3)

“What are we going to say?” Daisy murmurs as Davis docks the Quinjet onto the Zephyr. May shrugs. Mack - and Yo-Yo - have to have as little idea as possible as to the whereabouts of the Morse-Hunter family. They break the rules enough with FaceTime calls. Even now, she knows what May’s answer will be. 

 

“Nothing to anyone. Including Flint,” May replies. 

 

Daisy gives her a look. 

 

“He’ll only tell Yo-Yo.” 

 

“He adores Izzy and Owen. And besides, shouldn’t we be telling Yo-Yo? This is a direct violation of the deal.” 

 

“It’s unintentional. And we’d both be lying if we thought that either kid is giving up the other now,” May says. Daisy hesitates, but nods. May’s right, as always. “You’ll call FitzSimmons and get whatever info you can?” 

 

“Yeah. You’ll call Bobbi and Hunter?” 

 

May nods. 

 

“Do you ever think about them?” Daisy asks Davis as they walk off the Quinjet. “You know… what could’ve happened if we’d rescued them.” 

 

He shrugs. “I miss them. But it was their choice.” 

 

--- 

 

“Can I have a sleepover at Izzy’s?” Maisie repeats for the sixth time that day as she puts on her shoes. 

 

Her mum glances over at her. “We’d like to meet Izzy and her parents first, okay?”’

 

For the first time in her life, Maisie is not okay with that. She wants to be with Izzy and Idaho now . And she doesn’t know why her parents are being so weird about them, either. “Can you do it really really soon?” she begs. 

 

“As soon as possible,” Mum promises. Her phone starts ringing. “This is Jemma.” 

 

Maisie is sure she hears Aunt Daisy on the other end, but she can’t make out what she’s saying. 

 

Mum laughs. “Maisie’s right here.”

 

Maisie holds out a hand for the phone, which her mother passes to her. “Hi, Aunt Daisy!” 

 

“Hey, kiddo,” Aunt Daisy says. She can hear the smile in her aunt’s voice. “How was school yesterday?” 

 

“My new friend, Izzy, brought her dog to school,” she replies. 

 

“That’s… very impressive.” 

 

“Mhmm. His name is Idaho and he’s a mini corgi, although there’s some debate over whether mini corgis exist because regular corgis already have the dwarfism gene - ”

 

“Maisie,” her mum whispers, indicating that they have to go.

 

“I have to go now, Aunt Daisy,” she says. “Love you!” 

 

“Have a good day, Maisie.” 

 

--- 

 

“Can I please have a sleepover?” Izzy begs. Her parents have probably thought it over or talked with your father or whatever the other excuses were a thousand times by now. Idaho runs around her ankles as she puts on her backpack, clearly wanting to go with her. 

 

“I need to meet her parents first,” Mom says, picking up the squirming dog. “Idaho, what’s wrong?” 

 

Izzy’s eyes widen for a second before she takes the tiny corgi into her arms. “I forgot to give him his belly rub,” she lies. “C’mere, Idaho.” 

 

She doesn’t think her mom believes her for a second, but then Owen and Dad are talking about something and Mom joins in so Izzy can sneak away to smuggle Idaho into her backpack. “Shh,” she says, holding a finger to her lips, and he buries his nose in her lunchbox. 

 

“Izzy! Car!” Dad yells from the garage. 

 

--- 

 

Owen hides his hands in his pockets the second his dad drops him off to stop them from shaking. Izzy - and Idaho with her - are already in fifth grade doing whatever fifth graders do. He’s in sixth grade. Middle school. 

 

Fifth grade seems so far away now. Like a whole other world. 

 

Then again, so is Aurora, Colorado. 

 

He goes to his locker, taking out the books he needs and his schedule because it’s only his second day of school and he hasn’t memorized it yet. His day starts with a beginning band, which is down by the cafeteria on the other end of the school. 

 

As Owen is grabbing his lunchbox from his bag, two of the other boys run by, slamming his locker door shut and trapping part of his shirt in it. “Hey!” he yells, but they’re already gone. The bell rings as he runs to band. 

 

He’s late. Again. 

 

--- 

 

Maisie’s wearing an MIT sweatshirt that’s too big for her, which is perfect because Izzy is wearing a soft pink knee-length dress and a leather jacket. Maisie can sneak Idaho in her sweatshirt. There’s no way Izzy’s jacket and her twelve secret pockets can fit him. 

 

 “Your dress is pretty,” she tells her friend, and Izzy beams. 

“My aunt gave it to me. Did your parents go to MIT?” 

 

Maisie shakes her head. “They went to the Academy. They won’t tell me which Academy, but they went to one of them. I heard Mum talking about it with Nainai.” 

 

“You have a Nainai too?” Izzy asks. 

 

Maisie nods and sits down in her spot and their table. Izzy explained that once you choose a spot on the first day of school, it’s usually your spot for the rest of the year. Apparently, it’s rude to take someone else’s spot. 

 

Maisie thinks that’s ridiculous, but she’s happy to be guaranteed a seat with Isabelle Shaw all year. 

 

“Yeah, she visited a while ago. She and some of my aunts and uncles came to see me for my birthday,” Maisie explains. 

 

Izzy nods. “So what did your mom say about the sleepover?” 

 

Maisie sighs. “She’d like to meet your mum first.” 

 

“Mine too,” Izzy says. “... is your mom picking you up today?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Perfect!” 

 

“You can’t be serious,” Maisie tells her as she sneaks a strawberry to Idaho. Mum absolutely loathes being ambushed. 

 

“I am,” Izzy replies. “Think about it! We know for sure that they’ll both be there, they can do whatever they want to do, and then you can come over!” 

 

“This is an awful plan.” 

 

Izzy shrugs. “Do you have a better one?” 

 

--- 

 

A million things are running through Bobbi’s head at any time of the day. Owen wants Cheetos, Izzy wants Cheez-Its. Idaho needs more dog food. Hunter still hasn’t gotten any news on his job application, but she’ll be working full-time in a week. Out of the many things in her head, Melinda May and her infrequent phone calls are usually not one of them. 

 

She lets the phone ring for a few seconds while she sets her bags down in front of the door. “May?” 

 

“Hi.” 

 

“Is everyone okay?” 

 

“They’re fine,” May assures her. 

 

The momentary panic starts to settle. Mack’s fine, Daisy’s fine, everyone is fine. “Oh… good.” 

 

“How’s everyone there?” 

 

“Owen’s okay. He seems all right with the move. I thought Izzy was still mad at us, but she made a new friend and all she can talk about is Maisie who likes monkeys and wants to be a bioengineer.” 

 

May pauses. “Good that she made a friend.” 

 

“It is,” Bobbi replies. She waits for May to address the obvious. When she doesn’t, Bobbi does. “May, come on. That’s too many coincidences for this to be a coincidence.” 

 

“You know I can’t get involved.” 

 

“So it isn’t a coincidence.” 

 

“I can’t tell you either way.” 

 

Bobbi sighs. “Can’t, or won’t?” 

 

“If it makes you feel any better,” May offers, changing the subject, “Mack’s been working nonstop on a deal with the new prime minister. He says he’s close.” 

 

You said you were close three years ago, Bobbi wants to protest, but she doesn’t. She and Hunter knew the consequences of their actions and it isn’t Mack or May’s fault. They’re lucky to have a shot at all. 

 

When she thinks about it, she doesn’t regret the decision. She regrets that she had to make it, but she would not have made a different choice. 

 

“I have to go,” she murmurs. “Hunter’s picking up groceries so I’m picking up the kids.” 

“Tell them we say hi,” May replies.  

 

Bobbi smiles. “I will.” 

 

She hangs up and sits on the front steps of their little house, drifting off in thought before remembering that she has a ten-year-old and a nine-year-old who absolutely took her corgi to school to tend to. 

 

--- 

 

Owen’s mom is late to pick him up. So is Amelia Nguyen’s. She’s reading The Hunger Games while they wait on the bench and he reads over her shoulder. When he was younger, he and his sister thought their parents were secret agents or something. They read a bunch of books about the CIA and he still remembers a little of what they read, even though he’s moved on from that theory. 

 

He finally sees his mom’s car drive up and he grabs his backpack. “See you,” he tells Amelia, just to be polite. 

 

“Bye,” she mutters, engrossed in the description of Cinna’s eyes. 

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Mom says as he gets into the car. “How was school?” 

 

“Good,” he replies. 

 

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to tell me more than that.” 

 

“There’s not much to tell. Boring labs in science, we’re reading this dumb book in language arts, the librarian is the devil…” 

 

“Oh?” 

 

“Yeah. Kerry Flemby got hit in the face by a soccer ball.” 

 

“That sounds painful.” 

 

Owen shrugs. He knows exactly what she’s doing and he isn’t going to fall for it. This is all leading to the “did you make friends” question. 

 

He hasn’t. Yet. 

 

---

 

Jemma spends twenty minutes in the pickup line, waiting for her daughter to come to her with stories of corgis hidden in backpacks and sleepover plans and best friends who are suspiciously similar to Jemma’s own. 

 

Eventually, though, she has to get out because she is delaying the other cars. 

 

Jemma parks as close as she can to the building before she walks to the grassy lawn to find her daughter. She doesn’t have to search long; Maisie runs up to her and grabs her arm. “Mum, will you please meet Izzy’s mum now?” 

 

“We have to get going, I’m going to get a parking ticket - ” 

 

“ Please, ” Maisie begs. 

 

Jemma sighs. She’s already here and she has to put this to rest. She’s not sure Fitz can survive another night of begging to go to Izzy Shaw’s. “All right, darling.” 

 

Maisie drags her through the crowd of children to the doors in front of the school. “Izzy said she’d meet all three of us here.” 

 

“Three?” 

 

Maisie looks up at her and slowly brings a small dog out from under her sweatshirt. “... do you want to meet Idaho?” 

 

--- 

 

Mom is late, which makes it easier to spot her car. Izzy runs up and knocks on the windows until Owen lowers them. “Mom! Come meet Maisie and her mom!” 

 

“Iz, we’re holding up the line,” Mom says, gesturing to the cars behind her.

“They’re waiting for you,” Izzy pleads. 

 

Mom sighs. Owen rolls his eyes. 

 

“Where are they waiting?” 

 

“By the doors at the front of the school,” she explains. 

 

“We’ll go park and meet you there.” 

 

Izzy bounces with delight as she runs over to the doors, watching her mom drive around to the now-empty parking lot.

 

--- 

 

Jemma watches as a tall girl in a pink dress with a black leather jacket runs over. Her hair is blonde and with those eyes, she’s practically the carbon copy of Bobbi Morse.

 

So much for just a coincidence . 

 

“Where’s your mum?” Maisie asks, handing her the corgi, who barks happily. 

 

“She’s coming,” the girl - presumably Isabelle - assures her. She looks at Jemma and smiles. “Hi, I’m Isabelle, but you can call me Izzy.” 

 

Jemma smiles back as her stomach does a flip. Bobbi’s coming. “Hello, Izzy. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Jemma.” 

 

Izzy’s eyes widen as she looks to Jemma’s left. She runs and drags a woman over, another boy in her wake. “Maisie, Ms. Jemma, this is my mom.” 

 

---

 

There is no doubt. It’s Jemma. Older. Hair a little longer. Smile a little bigger. 

 

But it’s Jemma, and Bobbi has no idea what to do next. 

 

--- 

 

Bobbi holds out a hand after a second, and Jemma takes it gratefully. “I’m Jemma Fitz-Simmons,” she says. “This is my daughter, Maisie.” 

 

“I’m Bobbi Shaw,” Bobbi replies. Jemma tries to nail that into her head. Shaw, not Morse. “This is Isabelle and Owen. And Idaho, it seems.” 

 

Izzy winces and stares guiltily at the oblivious corgi in her arms. “Sorry, Mom.” 

 

“We’ll talk about it later,” Bobbi tells her, and Jemma marvels at her. This is Bobbi, with a dog and two children, one of whom happens to be the best friend Maisie has ever had. 

 

Jemma resists the urge to wrap her arms around her friend and instead gives her a knowing smile.  

 

---

 

Bobbi smiles back, and they exchange contact information as Izzy and Maisie pester them for a sleepover. 

 

“Not today,” Jemma tells her daughter, and Maisie frowns. Izzy mirrors her expression. 

 

“Izzy’s birthday is coming up, though,” Bobbi offers. “September 23. Iz, you want to have Maisie over for your birthday?” 

 

Izzy brightens. “Sure! We’ll get the TV to ourselves, right Mom?” 

 

Jemma smiles. Bobbi is sure she’ll come to regret this as Owen glares at his sister, but she nods. “Of course. It’s tradition.” 

Notes:

i haven't updated this one in a while. in my defense, a lot has happened in a few months... uhhh global pandemic kept getting worse and still is, presidential election happened, i started up school again (this time online), i had several existential crises, and i was almost evacuated due to wildfires. so that's been great for me.

kudos/comments always appreciated *cough* make me cry tears of joy *cough*

you can also find me on tumblr and yell at me to write.

Chapter 4: They're Listening

Notes:

this entire chapter is just someone eavesdropping on someone else lmao

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Twenty thousand one hundred sixty minutes. One million two hundred nine thousand six hundred seconds. 

 

All of that, and then Maisie can go to Izzy’s for her birthday. 

 

One million two hundred nine thousand six hundred seconds doesn’t seem all that long. It feels like there are a million seconds in one day, when in reality, there're only eighty-six thousand four hundred. 

 

“Why don’t you get ready for bed?” Mum suggests, and for once, Maisie agrees with her. The sooner she falls asleep, the sooner she’ll wake up and it will only be one million one hundred twenty-three thousand two hundred seconds until she goes to Izzy’s house. 

 

Maisie puts her plate next to the sink and races up the stairs two at a time to go to her room. 

 

--- 

 

“What happened?” Fitz murmurs when he hears Maisie’s door shut. 

 

Jemma sighs. “I went to go pick her up, and she told me Izzy’s mum was waiting to meet us. It was Bobbi, Fitz. They’re going by Shaw.” 

 

They both stand in silence as Fitz washes the plates and passes them to Jemma to dry. Bobbi and Hunter. Izzy and Owen. And a mini corgi named Idaho. “Do we tell the team?” Fitz asks. 

 

“Can we?” Jemma replies. “We’re breaking the rule enough as it is, if they're involved, are they breaking it too?” 

 

“I don’t know the specifics,” Fitz admits. 

 

“There aren’t any, Fitz!” Jemma exclaims, setting down a plate rather violently. Fitz nods up at the ceiling in reference to Maisie, and she lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. “The rule is that we can’t be in contact with them, ever! For their safety… and for ours.” 

 

“What do we do, then?” 

 

“I don’t know,” she replies softly. “I don’t know.” 

 

“We have to do something, Jemma.” 

 

“What  can  we do?

 

Fitz doesn’t answer. 

 

---

 

Maisie sits at the top of the stairs, eyes wide open and a hand over her mouth. The questions run through her head faster and faster and if she had her notebook, she’d write them down, but she’s worried the stairs will creak if she moves.

 

Why do my parents know Ms. Bobbi? What do they mean by ‘going by Shaw’? Who’s the team? Why are they involved? What’s the rule, and why do they have to follow it? If someone is making them, who? Why? What is going on? 

 

But most of all…  how much does Izzy know? 

 

--- 

 

“Let’s get this straight,” Hunter mutters, pulling back the quilt on their bed. “Izzy ambushes you and Owen in line for pick up, and you go to meet Maisie’s mother to set up a sleepover?” 

 

Bobbi nods, chucking the decorative pillows at the wall. 

 

“And when you meet Maisie’s mother, it’s Jemma?” he asks. 

 

“Yeah,” Bobbi confirms, crawling under the covers. She glances at him. “... what do we do now?” 

 

Hunter shrugs. “Sorry, love,” he says. “I have no idea.” 

 

“We have to think of something,” she replies. “I’m serious, Hunter. Izzy is out there, where we can’t watch her, being best friends and getting into all sorts of trouble with FitzSimmons’ daughter. Meanwhile, May is playing both sides, Mack is negotiating a new deal, and Owen doesn’t have any friends.” 

 

“I fail to see how Owen not having friends yet is a part of this.” 

 

“They could be watching the kids! And we have no way of knowing what’s going on because neither one of them will talk to us.” 

 

“Izzy talks to us!” 

 

“Izzy’s mad because I’m not letting her bring Idaho to school.” 

 

Hunter groans. “That’s one way to get kicked out of another school.” 

 

“Okay, the first time wasn’t her fault,” Bobbi says. “She beat up a bully on the playground after he hit another kid, it’s not like she was unprovoked.” 

 

“So it was May’s fault.” 

 

“We’re the ones who asked her to teach them.” 

 

“I seem to remember we had a conversation that went exactly like this.” 

 

“And we concluded that having the kids know how to defend themselves is necessary. Especially because we aren’t around to protect them anymore,” she sighs. 

 

Hunter shrugs. They're both quiet for a while. “Job interview went well.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“They appreciated my stunning wit and natural charm. Isn’t that why you married me?” 

 

Bobbi rolls her eyes. 

 

--- 

 

Izzy and Owen turn to each other. “Did you write that all down?” Izzy whispers, almost silent. Owen holds up a notebook, the pages covered in writing.  

 

He nods and gestures to his room. 

 

Izzy tries to distribute her weight evenly as she walks down the long hallway to Owen’s room. Owen’s much less careful than she is, but he’s also holding Idaho, who is squirming in his arms. 

 

Once the door is shut, they let out a breath, and Idaho settles next to Izzy. “Mom and Dad know Maisie’s parents, and someone is watching us at school,” she whispers. “Nainai is playing both sides, whatever that means, and Uncle Mack is trying to get a new deal. And do you seriously not have any friends?” 

 

“Stay on-task,” he mutters. “Who’s watching us? What’s the deal, both the old one and the new one? Whose side is Nainai on besides ours? Why do Mom and Dad know Maisie’s parents?” 

 

“I thought Uncle Mack was an insurance guy,” Izzy replies. “Why would he be negotiating stuff?” 

 

“He could be working on a deal for… insurance.” 

 

Izzy glares at him, unimpressed. 

 

“Okay, fine, that’s a cover.” 

 

“Are we seriously going back to ‘our parents are in the CIA’?” Izzy asks. 

 

“Do you have a better theory?” Owen wonders. Izzy crosses her arms but she doesn’t answer because she doesn’t have one. If she’s being honest, she hopes they  aren’t  in the CIA, because it would really suck to work in the same agency as her parents.  

 

“Hey, what if Nainai is in the CIA with them?” she asks.

 

Owen snorts. “Yeah, our Nainai, in the CIA.” 

 

“... she can beat people up and we are definitely not biologically related. How else would Mom and Dad know her?” Izzy challenges. 

 

“I’ll write it down,” Owen sighs. “Does that mean Uncle Mack and Aunt Daisy and everybody else is in the CIA too?” 

 

“Probably.” 

 

“Does that mean your friend’s parents are?”

 

“No way,” Izzy says. “They’re scientists.” 

 

“There are tons of scientists in the CIA, Iz, who do you think makes the spy tech?” Owen asks. 

 

Izzy rolls her eyes. “Okay, but - ” 

 

Owen puts his hand over her mouth. Izzy slaps his wrist, but he puts a finger to his lips and gestures to Idaho, who’s staring out the window, growling. 

 

Izzy crawls to the windowsill and peeks over the edge. A black car is on the street, and from the looks of it, there is someone inside even though the car is off. Izzy feels her spine crawl as she turns to her brother, eyes wide open as crawls back over to him and stands up. 

 

“I’m really tired. I’m gonna go to sleep,” she says, slightly louder than she should. “Idaho, there’s nothing out there. Let’s go.” 

 

The corgi follows obediently, and the car drives away as Izzy is walking back to her room. 

 

Before she shuts her door, she glances at Owen. 

 

Is someone watching?  he mouths. 

 

Isabelle shakes her head.  They’re listening. 

 

--- 

 

Maisie tries to act normal. 

 

She wakes up early and eats breakfast. She smiles too much. She brushes her teeth and fake-laughs at her dad's joke. 

 

But she can't stop thinking about what her parents said last night. 

 

"You okay, monkey?" Dad asks when she spaces out, thinking about Izzy - she has to know, because if they didn't 'go by Shaw' before, then Izzy's last name would have changed. 

 

Maisie smiles weakly. "Just... quadratic equations." 

 

---

 

Izzy hugs her backpack close to her chest as she walks to the line. Idaho isn’t with her today, and she can practically  feel  eyes on her. It might be nothing, but Nainai didn’t teach her to ignore her gut feelings. She’s being watched or listened to, or both. 

 

“Hey,” she says as Maisie walks up behind her. 

 

“Good morning.” 

 

Izzy goes in to hug her, and Maisie looks confused until Izzy whispers, “We need to talk.” 

 

“We can talk now,” Maisie says softly, glancing around at the other students. 

 

“No, we can’t,” Izzy whispers as the line starts to go inside. “They’re listening.” 

Notes:

so that's... concerning :)

this was a really dialogue-heavy chapter and i'm mad about it but it had to be done

kudos/comments make my day <3

Notes:

Let me know what you'd like to see in the adventures of Isabelle and Maisie - I can't promise it will appear, but I can promise that these two are going to drive their parents up a wall and possibly change the world! Please leave kudos/comments if you think this merits them as well <3

 

Cheers!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 6 of author's picks