1963-12-29 - Welcome to the Team
Summary: Three members of Act-F meet and get a run-down of the goings-on.
Related: N/A
Theme Song: None
clint foster sue 


After the Fantastic Four residence blew at the beginning of December, it became obvious the four would need to continue their work from another location. The government had supplied what they needed to keep the Act-F work going. Which is where Sue Storm can be found now. Currently, she sits at a long table while flipping through pages upon pages of data.

She's expecting an appointment — one arranged much earlier — but no minutes are to be wasted. Hence the reason the work has been spread upon the tables surface.

She scribbles furiously on one of the pages; inquiring to the pages as to whether she's onto something. Her cheeks puff out irritably and her head shakes. Overall, Doctor Storm looks fatigued. Her paled skin with dark rings around her eyes, tight ponytail, and exhausted shoulders indicate some of the weight upon her. Her Fantastic Four uniform, with a lab coat overtop, may be the only semblance of home and herself as she works.

The government assistant opens the door and ushers the visitor in among this particular mess. Sue, for her part, looks up from her work for a moment to issue the pair a small smile and a single finger raise, requesting just a minute to finish her thought. She writes a few more lines down, sets her pen on the table, and rises to her feet to extend a hand. "Doctor Foster," she greets warmly.

Even with the fatigue in her posture, gaze, and general expression, somehow she manages to exude warmth.


The past few months have been trying, to say the least, and they have worn on Dr. Foster more than he would ever care to admit. Yet, like with Sue, the fatigue knows how to make itself known. For Bill, it's present in the dark circles and folds under his eyes, and in the way his mouth slightly droops at either end, even as he enters the room smiling.

"Doctor Storm," he answers, crossing the room to meet the woman and offer her a firm handshake. "I'm glad that we could find the time to chat." He lets go of her hand and searches for a free space on which to set his briefcase, then takes a seat. "I apologize for being scarce lately, but wanted to compare notes on the current situation." A moment's pause before the man simply shrugs. "Actually, it should be that I need to be brought up to speed with things."


Meanwhile, out in the front of the office a man of little outward remark steps through the door. He looks a little disheveled and a touch on edge, what with the whole few days growth of a beard and the brown bomber jacket, and the torn jeans don't really help hugely. Then again things have been a bit… hectic for him.

A first nod is given to the government assistant, and then the fellow lifts his voice. "Hey." A once-over is given, then he advances on the appropriate desk. "I was wanting to see Doc Storm." He says levelly, then looks towards the door that leads to Sue's office. He looks back to the assistant. "Clint Barton. Sent a thing over, I think. But yeah. I'll wait."

And as easy as that he's made the decision for how he's going to spend the next few hours. Sitting there, wherever is most comfortable. Hopefully there are magazines.


A weary, but nearly comical, smile pulls at the edges of Sue's lips. She issues him a small nod. "Of course," she motions towards the table, and then lifts an apologetic hand as she spies the mess, "I've been somewhat displaced lately," she manages and then shrugs. "But we all make do with what we have."

"And please, there's no need to apologize. Have a seat wherever you can find one." Her weariness tugs at each of her features and she slides into her chair. "I think there's a lot to be brought up to speed on — " she cringes slightly. It's been an eventful few weeks.

It's then that the assistant peeks in, "Doctor Storm? Clint Barton is waiting outside."

Sue nods, "Show him in when is convenient. It might be helpful to catch him up on our goings-on as well…"


Bill undoes the front clasp of his case and pulls over the outer flap to open it. From it, he removes a chunky notebook and a pen, then closes everything back up again and looks to Sue. "Yes, I'm sure you have been. If I can help at all with that, please let me know." It sounds like dull promise to his ears, and so he frowns and rubs his eyes.

When the assistant walks in, he turns to acknowledge her and tries to think if he's ever actually met this Mr. Barton. The name doesn't ring a bell, though. Back to Sue, he nods in agreement. "The more trusted bodies on this, the better."


When the assistant comes back out and addresses him, "Mr. Barton, Dr. Storm will see you." Clint sort of gives her an eyeballing askance. He then gives a small shrug and gains his feet, tossing the magazine he'd been about to peruse back onto a table. He steps around, adjusts the hang of his jacket, then moves towards the door.

It's only a few moments after that that he steps through, pausing to stand there with the knob in his hand as he raps his knuckles lightly upon the interior panel. A glance is given to Bill, and then back to Sue. He cocks an eyebrow. "Heya. If yer busy…" He lets that hang there for a time before he steps in, probably at the first hint of body language that he should come inside.

When the door closes he'll wait til an offer is made for a seat if there's one available, but when that comes he'll accept it and sit down.


"Mister Barton, please," Sue waves Clint in and shakes her head before sliding to a chair herself and motioning to one of the many other empty ones. "I've adopted the conference room as a temporary office," she offers towards both the men as she slides into her chair. "Oh! Forgive me! Introductions. Doctor Foster, Mister Barton. I apologize for the mess, and for the impromptu introductions. Time is of the essence."

Sue's eyebrows lift and a hand presses to her forehead. "I'm glad you're both here at the same time. Much easier to fill people in together than forget who I said what to." Her cheeks flush lightly. "I'm not sure what either of you know, but the long and short of it is we need to be prepared for a great risk to Earth. There's multiple alien species at war. One of which can shapeshift into anyone. A reason why I've pushed for genetic testing of varying forms from those in our ranks." Her hands clasp lightly atop the table.


Bill stands and extends a hand to Clint, also offering the same weary smile he walked in with. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barton." He sits once more and turns his attention to Sue.

"The genetic testing is an excellent first step. I have been looking through recent research and may have some ideas regarding more subtle biochemical tests that can be given. Focusing on protein activity, metabolites…" Bill glances between Sue and Clint, then decides to cut the science talk short. No need for too much of it during a briefing.


At the introduction, Clint gives a look to Foster and lifts his chin in the typical guy greeting, as if to say 'hey' but silently, even as he returns the handshake with a rather firm one of his own. But then he looks to Sue and listens to her words. For a moment he follows along and then gets a small smile, "Hnh." He offers as critique.

Then crossing his leg over his knee he settles back with his arms folded and says levelly, "So we're past the whole interview thing and all, figure someone in your standing already did the run down what's needed. We're on ta work? Already?" He clucks his tongue and then says faux critically, "N'here I was hopin' ta slack off for a few weeks."

But then he glances towards Foster as the fellow speaks. A hand lifts to wave him on, "Nah feel free. I'm used to people talking over my head with the big brains."


A smirk tugs at one side of Sue's lips and here head cants to the side, "You sound like my fiance," she offers towards Bill. "But I agree. We need to simplify these tests. They're arduous, time-consuming, and altogether irritating. The number of needle pricks I've had from blood tests…" because no one is above suspicion.

And then towards Clint, the smirk continues, "And… you sound like my brother. Well, I certainly feel at home here." Her grin softens and her head shakes. "Alright, so we need to streamline our testing." She motions towards Bill, "I can get you the autopsy report from th alien that died in New York. Along with a team, I conducted that. You can maybe use the information we've gleaned to isolate some relevant tests, yes?" Her eyebrows lift.

She then turns towards Foster, "We need to train and build up our arsenal. We aren't entirely certain what these people are capable of, but," the smile finally fades, "what we've seen — the energy weapon used on the former President? It's not good. We're not technologically capable."


Bill glances over to Clint and tilts his head apologetically. "I simply don't want to take up too much time with the details," he offers. After all, things need to move along rather quickly to properly deal with this threat, because who knows what will pop up to surprise everyone a week from now.

Turning back to Sue, Bill cotninues. "Yes, but not only simplify. If we are to use the tests to identify beings outside this team, they will need to be much more discreet." Because those needles.

Having said what he has to say for now, Bill sits back and turns his attention on Clint. So far, he hasn't heard much about the weaponry involved in all of this, so his interest noticeably piques.


Arms settled over his chest, Clint looks across the way towards Sue and nods as she speaks. He gives a small affirmative sound and then adds, "If you get some field work you need done, then I can run that angle down. I'm not hugely a big picture sorta fella, I like having a clear aim sorta thing."

There's a pause then he looks between the other two. "If you get some new tech though, I can be the guy to step up to that, come up with the proper practical applications and all. But if time is so pressed, I'm gonna need data and a place to sit." There's a pause, then he adds, "And coffee."


"Coffee is something, I'm told, we have in droves," yet not a single pot can be seen in the room. In fact, the only thing present is a teapot in the centre of the table. Sue manages a tight smile and a shrug. "The tech, I think, is being work on by both Forge and Reed. We're trying to get things created quickly to even attempt to rival these people, but," her tongue clucks, "we're late to this party. These people, from what I understand, have infiltrated us for at least decades if not much, much longer."

Her lips purse lightly, "But that's why our team consists of who it does. We're bringing together multiple talents in order to do the impossible. Which is why this is such an elite team… and why it's important we trust and collaborate." Her eyes roll, "And believe me trust is not easy to come by. Not when the Soviets and Americans are at the table."


Bill smirks over to Clint. Coffee would definitely be welcome, and might actually make this whole mess go down a bit easier. The thoughts of an addict, he knows, but he holds onto them.

"Speaking of them having been around for so long, I wonder if we have any ideas of where they might be. Or who they might be." Here, both of Bill's brows perk up. He looks almost eagerly between the two at the able, this being a question he's been wanting to ask for a while now.


"That's usually step two, I reckon." Having shown up today, Clint had probably expected to have to sell himself more than he has, especially after how he left SHIELD and all. But then again if things were as important as she was saying they were… then this level of operation could be understandable. He gives a nod and then pushes his chair back. "A'right, then I figure I should better get what your assistant can provide me, sit down, and get started on doing what I can."

He gives a nod to Foster even as he stands up. "Always good to meet another smart fella." His lip twitches as if having heard a side joke of his own, something at the least that amuses him. "Doc Foster. Doc Storm." He gives a small boyscoutish salute and starts towards the door.


"The alien that died in New York in November was something called a Skrull. They're shape shifters." Sue's eyebrows lift now. "They've been at war for," her eyebrows draw together sharply, "centuries(?)," her memory is failing her a bit on the timeline, "with a species called the Kree. We don't know a lot more than that," her cheeks puff out. "But with how long the war has been waged, we expect it to continue here.

"Which is why we need to defend ourselves. Right, and thank you, Mister Barton. We'll get you settled and acquainted with some others in our ranks." She shoots Barton a smile, "And training. We need to continue with the training. Also, we need to ensure the Soviets aren't… holding out." Her eyebrows lift again.

"Thank you for checking in, Mister Barton. I look forward to continuing to work with you on this."


Bill stands as well as things seem to be winding down. "Nice to meet you, Clint. I hope we get to chat more soon." He offers the man a nod along with his farewell, then flips open his briefcase again.

"Doctor Storm, while I agree there are many angles to consider and you're probably busy handling all of them," the Soviets, for example, which up until now he's failed to consider as a hinderance, "I was hoping for some help on another project of mine." He pulls out a small, nondescript container from his bag and hands it over to her. "Could you take a look at this and just let me know what you see? There's a certain bontanical aspect to it I'm having trouble with."


Without further ado, Clint slips on through the door after having said his farewells. He steps out and looks towards the assistant and tells them, "Heya, the boss wants me to have all the data on everything." His lip twitches as he says that, expecting some push back, but hey… maybe they already have files prepped for him to peruse. With how with it Doctor Storm seems to be it wouldn't surprise him.

And for the next few hours, perhaps even days, he's going to hunker down and get what he has to into his thick skull.


The container is accepted and Sue lifts a single eyebrow. "Of course." There's a pause however, as she regards Foster a few beats, "What is it?" It's not like she's not used to looking at samples of various sorts for various purposes. "I'll get on this after I — " she looks at the table " — clear things." She manages a small smile.


Bill hurriedly scribbles something into his notebook and then starts to pack things away. With a huff, he asnwers, "Honestly, I'm hoping that you can help me answer that." He knows that keeping things vague will be a little suspicious, but he's not sure how Sue will react to knowing he just handed her a street drug. Who knows, though? Maybe understanding the substance can also help them with their Skrull problem. "I look forward to hearing from you."

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