Emma Joan Tallis

chapter forty-six: Shishkabobbed by a Frisbee

"The soldier's heart, the soldier's spirit, the soldier's soul, are everything."
~ George Marshall

~*~

"Are you a cat?" Sam asked over the radio.

"Why do you ask?" I questioned lightly.

"Because you love using that laser pointer," Sam pointed out.

"All animals like the laser pointer," I replied.

"But cats like it the most."

"I am not a cat, Sam."

"I don't believe you."

"Just call Sitwell."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're not a cat, right?" Steve asked over the radio.

"We are not having this conversation."

"I mean, how many guys can say they've kissed a cat," Natasha said, and I just rolled my eyes.

"Agent Sitwell, how was lunch?" Sam asked when Sitwell picked up his phone. "I hear the crab cakes here are delicious."

"Who is this?" Sitwell demanded.

"The good-looking guy in the sunglasses, your ten o'clock," Sam said, but Sitwell was unable to find him. "Your other ten o'clock. There you go."

"What do you want?" Sitwell asked.

"You're gonna go around the corner, to your right. There's a grey car, two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride," Sam ordered.

"And why would I do that?" Sitwell asked sassily.

"Because that tie looks really expensive, and I'd hate to mess it up," Sam said as I aimed the laser pointer as Sitwell. It didn't take much else to convince him to go with Sam. Unfortunately, Sitwell seemed too stupid to understand that Steve was going to let Nat throw him off of a roof.

"Tell me about Zola's algorithm," Steve barked.

"Never heard of it," Sitwell tried.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve asked instead.

"I was throwing up, I get seasick," Sitwell said, so I forced him to the edge of the rooftop. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style."

"You're right," I told him as Steve took my place.

"It's not yours either, Rogers."

"It's not," Steve agreed before he stepped aside. "It's hers."

"Lovely form," I said as Natasha kicked Sitwell off of the roof. "I didn't know he could scream so high-pitched."

"Oh, wait. What about that girl from accounting, Laura?" Natasha asked.

"I thought you said she knew," Steve complained again.

"Lillian," I corrected Natasha. "And she does know. Lip piercing, right?"

"Yeah, she's cute," Natasha said.

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that," Steve said with a sigh.

"There go my plans for a lip piercing," I said dramatically, and then Sam flew up with his very impressive wings that we stole. Sitwell came flying up as well, and landed inelegantly on the roof.

"Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing Insight's targets!" Sitwell shouted as we walked towards him.

"What targets?" Steve demanded stonily.