S.H.I.E.L.D: Operation Rogue

[Moon Knight]

“Et de retour dans la poêle pour ce vieil homme.” Jean-Paul lightly chuckled at his own words as he struggled to pull down his newly acquired slacks. 

“I believe you'll find those prosthetic to your liking,  I should add that under your suit is light reinforced body armor, in other words, you can take a bullet… or two. Oh, and one more thing Jean Paul.

“Yes?” He retorted to his new director speaking to via earpiece.  

“Be sure to give our Lady Whisper a warm welcome.” 

Smirking Frenchie snapped his shoulder holster into place before sliding in his pistol, a Luger, into the holster.

“Monsieur Jarvis you insult me. I am Frenchmen being exquisite and charming is my specialty.”    

“Charming, is that what you call it?”  

“Quelle?” 

Jean-Paul shot his gaze behind himself, his face giving off a well-surprised look. There she was, lo and behold. Frenchie couldn’t lie to himself she was beautiful but… no, he was married. 

“I would say you’re more daring than anything.” 

“Lady Whisper I presume?”

“In the flesh.” She said placing her left hand on her chest. "Metaphorically, of course."     

"Were you briefed already? I do not see you carrying gear, no?" Frenchie raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh, mon ami," Mercier cooed sarcastically, leaning forward and tapping Frenchie's nose with her index finger. "I'm a professional."

"Oui... I mean." Duchamp cleared his throat pulling his collar. "Yes, I was told you are professional  and to be watched- Carefully."

"Ooh, how carefully?" She smirked and turned away. With a slight wiggle of her hips, she chuckled and relaxed. "No need to pretend, DuChamp. We're all S.H.I.E.L.D here."

"Of course, we are spies and better yet we're spies meant to keep the world revolving. There's a matter that must be kept in mind, in the coming hours can I trust you in the field?" His face gestured in a questioning look.

"No." She flicked her hair dismissively. "But would I be a good spy otherwise?

"Perhaps, Perhaps not." Jean-Paul straightened his posture putting his hands behind his back. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais exactement mon cher?" He flipped his language to French. It was a test, a test to see if she was at least... good.

“Vy ne khoteli by znat', na russkom.” Russian? why Russian? Oh… Spies. 

  "Vy mozhete skazat' mne na lyubom yazyke, yesli tol'ko vashi navyki ne tol'ko yazyki, no i Flirtovat?” He flipped to Russian as well. Flirting and multiple languages? shes good… so far.  

Mercier grinned. "We're going to get along just fine."

“Touche, but no really indulge me, miss...?" He narrowed his eyes. 

"Whisper. Lady Whisper." She winked. "Until you get to know me better."

"Ah, I see, well then Miss Lady Whisper my question."

"Where's the mystique if I tell you? I like to keep guessing."

"Fine but hear my words-" His words were cut off by the sound of their earpieces 

"Lady Whisper, Jean-Paul, your chariot awaits you both out in the back."Jarvis cut in. 

"At least someone knows how to treat a lady," she said, winking at Jean-Paul. Her demeanor quickly shifted to a serious tone. "On our way."

“Oui, we are on our way to meet the local gangs. At least I hope they are friendlier then what I fear they are.” Frenchie said taking his right index finger off his earpiece.