Work Text:
"She's probably one of those sweaty cosplay girls swarming around Stark Tower."
"I would – it was one time."
The danger is over. Mike Peterson is sleeping things off with his family, Phil's business card tucked into his pocket with the words 'Call me when you feel better' on it. Fitz-Simmons decide that Chinese take-away comfort food is necessary for not-being-blown-up and order enough for a small army. They've got their next assignment already and Melinda starts up the bus the moment they get Lola on board.
Skye is still here.
Phil leads the way to the communal area and picks up the box of fried rice he'd asked for, easing himself into a chair. "So, Skye."
She looks at him nervously. They've been doing pretty well on making her not paranoid about being in the midst of the faceless government suits, but everyone gets a little nervous when Coulson focuses on them and gives them an intent look.
"Who did you cosplay as?"
"What?" Skye scowls at him, heart sinking. She should have known that he'd remember the small things. Ward looks like he can't decide between sniggering or disdain.
"Who did you cosplay as? Outside Stark tower?" He practically inhales his fried rice. Skye says nothing, picks at her mapo tofu in humiliation. "I used to do Captain America for conventions," says Phil. He reaches for the prawn crackers.
"What?" Skye is startled into finally looking up. Ward chokes on his spring roll; half a beansprout goes down the wrong tube and he coughs uncontrollably.
"Before I actually met him and knew him," clarifies Phil, ignoring Ward completely. "It would have been odd dressing up as him once I'd seen him naked."
Skye makes a noise a bit like a dying fox as her brain shuts down, attempting to abort all mental images. (In the corner, scarfing down wontons, Fitz-Simmons are just giggling to themselves.)
"You... used to dress up as Captain America?" asks Skye, unsure if he's being sincere or just making fun of her.
Phil smiles at her. "What, you don't think I look like Cap? You're right, I don't quite have the chin for it. Or the height." He rubs his jaw consideringly. "But I did used to have more hair, you know, and I had the helmet."
"Oh," says Skye for a lack of anything else to say.
There's a bit of a pause, broken only by Ward occasionally breaking into another fit of pained coughs. "Sir? Really? Cosplay?"
Phil gives Ward a disappointed look, and steals his portion of prawn crackers as Ward tries to hack up half a beansprout. "Too cool for cosplay, Agent Ward?" Phil has no time for people who think that they're too cool for anything.
"Well, I did Black Widow. I could probably do it better now I have the actual official SHIELD field gear." She smiles, tentatively.
"If you wear that to a convention, you're going to have to field off the questions about how you made it and what it's made from," says Phil, waving a chopstick at her warningly. "Don't go giving away SHIELD secrets, please."
"I've never been to a con before," Skye says consideringly.
"Wait. Seriously, wait," says Ward, interrupting. "Are you for real right now? Conventions and cosplay – those are for, for –" He stutters to a halt at Coulson's look.
"For nerds?" Coulson says softly, dangerously.
"No need to make the word sound dirty. I did Emma Frost once," says Simmons cheerfully. "I have never been so cold in my entire life."
"I did Doom." Fitz chips in too: "I even built some working Doombot robots."
"Get off my plane," says Phil, scandalised. "How did you pass SHIELD's security clearances if you've dressed up as a villain and created your own Doombots?"
"They didn't blow up!" protests Fitz, looking small and meek under the force of Phil's glare. "They were nice Doombots! Occasionally picked litter up off the streets. It's not like even Captain America hasn't done shady things every so often. He punched a dead president, you know."
Ward rubs his temples. "Why are you all perfectly fine with this cosplaying business? It's weird."
The rest of the team look at each other and Ward feels like he's drowning and not only will none of them teach him how to swim, they insist that he's not drowning. Skye, on the other hand, is looking significantly less embarrassed about it now, which was really all that Phil was trying to do in the first place. Team bonding over ridiculous costumes is just an added side effect. He grins, and offers her some of Ward's stolen prawn crackers. "I bet Romanov would be flattered."
The speakers crackle over their heads. "Touch down in ten," says Melinda May.
"I bet Agent May hasn't cosplayed," says Ward somewhat desperately as he tries to picture the hard, gritty SHIELD agents dressed up as someone else.
There's a noise over the intercom and it takes him a moment to realise that was May snorting. "Romanov, Barton and I did Charlie's Angels once."
"Who was Charlie?" asks Skye, sounding genuinely interested.
Phil grins, and steeples his fingers.
