“That’s … a lot of hostility.” Summer blinked a couple times. “I’m just a SAR consultant. I’m not privy to a lot of the information. And if Tony knows we’ve never had reason to discuss it.”
Great, this was going to be one of those times where her curiosity was engaged and never going to be satisfied. So frustrating. She sighed. “I’m not trying to butt in on your … operation here, okay? I’m not here to check on you, or anything like that. I was visiting Wales, and your … death gave me a fucking headache, okay?”
He didn’t mean to get hostile. It was just bottled feelings he had for the organisations. So he rubbed his face and let out a sigh, “Apologies. I’ve bad experiences with both in the past. SHIELD is especially a particularly touchy subject.” It was hardly an actual operation, just trying to grab a loose Weevil and contain it so it couldn’t hurt anyone else.
“We call the attacker a Weevil,” he said, deciding it could be no worse telling her than it would be telling the Doctor, “generally dormant in a sewers, every once in a while, they go rogue and… Well, you saw what happened to me.”
“Actually, I just … heard it. Felt it. Fucking language.” Summer rubbed at her temple. “It was painful, that much I know, though I’m not at all sure which end the pain was at.” She shoved herself off the wall. “Do you know if your team caught the thing yet?”