Rick was amazed. Skye had finally found her parents, or they had found her. He had so many questions about that. Rick knew that Skye had never known her parents, and so it had always been a sore subject for her. Sometimes, though, she and Rick had often speculated on what they might have been like. The way Skye talked about them, though, the more Rick thought there was a lot, lot more to the story. "So...what? They were involved in S.H.I.E.L.D. or...?"
The first of a hundred questions that spiraled out of his mind and that was the first of them. Naturally.
He rattled off all the things he could think of for superhuman origins. He was about to get to magic (because, honestly, at this point he wouldn't be surprised) when Skye began laughing uproariously and very much catching him off guard. "...wait, seriously?"
He asked when she pronounced herself an Inhuman. "Wait, Inhumans are aliens?!"
Skye was originally from another planet? Or her genetic material was, at least? He knew about the gas release that had seen the sudden uptick in the so-called Inhumans
, but he hadn't thought alien
Then again, the way the world was going, he was - again - not overly surprised."Next you're gonna tell me you've changed your name."
Rick said, jokingly...and then an awkward moment of silence fell between the two. "...so does S.H.I.E.L.D. have some kind of test to determine if someone's psychic, or am I just really good at making guesses?""Thanks."
Rick said with a sad smile. Polly Jones had been a light in his world, and that light was gone now, sadly. It hurt. Every day, but he kept on. Aunt Polly wouldn't have wanted him to mope endlessly about it. She'd said herself she had led a full life and would be glad to finally get some sleep. "It was in her sleep, though. Nice and peaceful."
That had been some comfort, given the seizures she had been suffering from near the end as well as her dementia.
When Skye mentioned a safe place to meet. "Uh, yeah..."
He thought it over, thinking of a few safe locations. There weren't many, the Brigade wasn't a massively widespread thing with a lot of manpower, but he knew of a safehouse or two in places. "There's a coffee shop on 5th and 17th - the Daily Grind."
Rick said. He knew the owner, a Mrs. Shirley Washington. She was kind and discreet. "Meet me there. Say...tomorrow? About eleven? Just ask for a Postmaster with double foam from the lady at the counter."
A codeword for someone who ran a safehouse, namely Rick or - in this case- Mrs. Shirley.
Of course, Rick still wasn't 100% on whether or not this was a sting operation by S.H.I.E.L.D....but he would give Skye the benefit of the doubt. He owed her that much.