runningred | OOM: Travelling with Jemma.

"It does seem like the perfect spot." She's giving him one of those looks again, the one that could be subtitled 'no I haven't forgotten that I'm a bit worried about you right now'. But she hides it (mostly) under the guise of finally removing the biking gear (hallelujah, glory be, get it off). "It must have been quite the arrival."

"Yeah, perfect really is the word for it." Jay mutters, almost distractedly as he sheds his jacket and fishing through his bag for a fresh clothes.

"I don't know. I wasn't able to bring them here at the time. One of the sanctuary's people collected them. This is the first time I've been here myself."

"Oh good, then I won't be the only one doing the touristy rubber-necking thing." She grins - sort of. She doesn't know it, but it's an expression Fitz would recognize as Simmons in her Fitz-managing mode, keeping a careful eye out while letting the day pass by normally.

She's also found a hair brush and is attacking her hair ruthlessly while digging for the hair pins she knows she has in this pack somewhere. Best to pin it up before it decides to become a frizzy wreak.

"Oh no, I'm as rubber-necked as you. Thought I was going to shit myself when the cheetah jumped me." Jay chuckles, quickly changing his shirt with his back turned to Jemma. His rather scarred back. "Shall we take a look around before dinner?"

Jemma's caught sight of the scars before, though usually her attention is more on how disastrously the upcoming 'sparring' session is going to go. She's not entirely surprised by the scars - after all, she pegged him as someone who'd be most comfortable in Operations quite a while ago, and they all seem to come with a vast array of scars (some more willing to show them than others).

She does take the opportunity to also change her shirt - after all, it's a very good idea and worth copying.

"That will be brilliant - they really are very well set up here."

He may, even now, lose her to that research lab.

"Very." Again that distracted edge to his voice. He doesn't look as she changed, a perfect gentlemen like that.

He offers her an arm and happy to walk with her to the research lab. The research team greet her as an equal as soon as they work out she knows her stuff. Jay finds a quiet corner to watch from, happily bemused by her antics.

Once it's discovered that they all speak the same language (science, with strong accents of biological sciences), the notebooks come out. Everyone's got a notebook, the place you put the equations and formulas and ideas that don't really fit into what you're working on at the moment but shouldn't be completely ignored, either.

(Jemma's notebooks have taken over one of her lab's closets. They're ridiculous, and she always feels a vague sense of embarrassment when she adds a new book to the stack.)

Not too much longer after that, they're having a five-way simultaneous argument about how best to place electrodes to monitor seizure activity in one of the monkeys under observation (and which wiring method will produce the cleanest results), complete with multiple diagrams (all being sketched and re-sketched and written over and highlighted and erased all at the same time by five pairs of hands).

And someone has unearthed the lab stash of candy. There's always a lab stash, for situations much like this. The world just runs better on sugar, caffeine, and natural theobromides.

There may be gesturing with kit-kats involved, we're just sayin'.

Chill comes over to join Jay, watching them with raised eyebrows. "I think they've adopted her. You may never get her back. Dinner's almost ready but it always takes a while to get them out of the lab."

"I think I can help." Jay walks over to join them, plucking the kit-kat from Jemma's hand. "Notebooks down. Dinner time. Now." He's gentle but firm, trying not to engage even thought he can see a much better way to wire the machine.

He very nearly gets ignored when one of the researchers produces a mock electrode net they had been toying with earlier and it's very much like introducing a brand new squeaky toy to the middle of a dog park populated by golden retrievers - everyone wants a piece of that action.

But Jemma's short a piece of candy, and her mulish 'but science!' expression shifts to one of 'oh yeah, food is good huh'. The expression gets more sheepish once she realizes how much time has passed.

"Err. I hope I haven't been holding anything up."

"You're all holding us up!" Chill laughs, clearly this is an argument that happens often. He yells something in an African language which is answered with a hail of candy from the other researchers and playful grumbling.

Dinner's a fairly informal affair - a buffet of both local and more European foods with everyone helping themselves and sitting wherever. Chill seems to be the local den mother, nudging and where needed, shoving chattering researchers to get them to at least sit down with their food.

Judging from the size of the table, there's at least half a dozen people missing from the group.

Chill raises a glass. "Ladies, gentleman - a toast to Mr Todd and Miss Simmons for their generosity. Because of them, we can afford the Maasai Mara expedition to Kenya."

There is a lot of cheering and more than a few hugs and slaps on the back for them both.

That sets off a round of 'no really I haven't the faintest idea what he's done oh well if you insist you're welcome no really' from Jemma while she attempts to at least somewhat gracefully accept thanks for something she had no part of. It's helped that she can usually sidetrack people into talking about said expedition, which requires a whole lot less cover-story-creating on her part.

This is always a good thing.

She tries to keep an eye on Jay throughout the meal - she's gotten the impression that whatever's bugging him is more than just a passing whim. However, she also has a problem of her own. Here, she's just Jemma Simmons - usually when she's in a research-based setting, she's half of the FitzSimmons team. This leads to more than a few awkward moments as the night wears on when she forgets and is jarred by the fact that Fitz isn't right there, already finishing her thought and launching into one of his own. Eventually she retreats out onto one of the balconies, away from the lights and the noise.

Getting people to talk about the trip is easy. Getting them to shut up long enough to eat is a challenge. There's another much smaller sanctuary in Kenya that some of them hope to study at and bring back some animals they're unable to look after there. The safe transport being the most massive cost drain for the trip and the source of serious logistical debates.

Jay is lost in conversation on the other side of the table. Some of the rangers seem to be talking him into coming on run out to help release an injured gorilla back into the park in the morning.

When she drifts out onto the balcony, the albino chimp is waiting for her, watching her with gold eyes. Very intelligent eyes.

"Well hello there." He's really quite striking, and clearly habituated to people. Long practice of working with primates keeps her out of immediate arm's reach, but she gets close enough to study him. "Aren't you just a lovely fellow? I'm afraid I haven't any treats for you."

The chimp cocks his head at her and there's a sense of pressure, like the edge of a thunderstorm.

Jay steps out on to the balcony, putting himself between them. "Don't. Please don't." He's talking directly to the chimpanzee. "She's had a bad run with telepaths, don't make it worse."

The chimpanzee doesn't smile. That would be a warning for him. "Your companion is terribly protective, Dr Simmons. Clearly he thinks very highly of you." His voice is clear and clipped and almost more British than hers.

Oh.

Well.

This is just... infinitely worse than the bar, isn't it? The small part of her mind that isn't descending into white-knuckled panic wishes he wasn't so polite about it - someone who can invade your personal space like that just shouldn't sound like one of the tutors from boarding school. Beyond the immediate danger of someone being able to reach into your brain and do whatever they like, there's the added factor that she has been set on reverse-engineering quite a lot of the Chitauri weaponry, since they relied surprisingly highly on biological systems. She cannot allow that knowledge to terrorize another world.

Fear would keep her rooted to the spot, but thankfully, someone high enough up the chain realized that would happen in a crisis - muscle memory is more basic than higher brain function, and regular repeated drills get her heading for the door. She doesn't have much of a plan (or any plan), other than the vague one of 'find lab, lock door of lab, hide' but it's still better than the option of nothing.

Jay feels her freeze up and turns around to hug her. "Don't worry. It's okay. He won't do it again. Will you?" He asks the chimp with a growl to his voice.

Jay cups her cheek, trying to get her to look up at him. "Jemma, I'd like you to meet Doctor Nzame Simeon, chief scientist of the Sanctuary base." He glances over to Dr Simeon, "And what, third in line for the throne of Gorilla City?"

The chimp clicks his tongue. "I abdicated years ago. And the fact you even know the name Gorilla City is worrying, Mr Todd." He turns back to Jemma. "We are very glad to have you here and we are grateful for your help. You have my word neither I or any of my people will try to read your thoughts. On my honour as a scientist."

She nods, sharply, but her tense posture doesn't relax an iota. Telepathy is fun and cool... in science fiction. It turns out it feels like an entirely different thing when you're faced with how it can be used to hurt those you care about, and the innocent people you're supposed to be helping to protect.

"Doctor Simeon."

"Please call me Nzame, everyone here does." He tries very hard to sound relaxed. "I'd love to talk more but I suspect you've had rather enough of a shock tonight."

He turns to Jay. "You, I'd like to talk sooner."

Jay gives him a nod and wraps an arm around Jemma's shoulder, leading her gently back to their room, closing the door and the doors to the balcony. He sits down heavily on the bed. "I'm so sorry. If I'd known, I wouldn't have brought you here."

"Must they always be so..." She makes a frustrated gesture, talking more with her hands and her pacing than with her words. "So... awful? Reaching inside people's heads just because they can? I can bioengineer a virus to wipe out most of Europe but that doesn't mean I do it."

"They're not all that bad. Simeon's just pissed at me because I know things I shouldn't. He's trying to protect his community, that's all." He sighs and runs his hands thought his hair. "His race have been living hidden and protected from humanity for a long time now. I can see why me knowing who he is would have rattled him." "I can teach you how to shield yourself if you like? Not tonight but maybe when we get back to the bar."

She snorts at the explanation, not much in the mood to give the telepath the benefit of the doubt. He reached into her head without so much as a by-your-leave, and didn't even have the good grace to be apologetic when called on it - smug git even assumed she'd be just fine with it once she was over the 'shock'.

Bastard. There's a thought he can have for free.

Jemma does settle enough to sit on the bed next to him, grabbing one of the pillows to curl around.

"Shielding would be good. With my luck the next one's going to want more than a power trip."

"Do you want to get out of here?" He offers. "We can ride out tonight if you want."

She's tempted by the idea, but she sets her jaw stubbornly and shakes her head.

"And let him have the field just by being an arse? Not likely." She gives him a sidelong look. "I should ask the same in return though - you're the one he wants to 'talk' to."

Jay gives her a gentle nudge. "Don't worry about me, Jem. I"ll deal with it. He wants to know who I am and why I know what I know. I can tell him both without risking anything."

He shrugs, "I'm not a telepathy but the guy who trained me taught me that if someone's in your head, you're in theirs too. I got a sense of his panic when he tried to read me before."

"It just makes me glad there aren't any telepaths in my world." She sighs, but there's new lines of worry around her eyes.

How powerful is this telepath?

Loki-powerful?

How do you ask someone if they're still in control of their own mind in a way that would make any answer believable?

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