"A... um... anomalies," Fitz says, pleased that he's able to come up with the word straight away, "Markers, evidence of dimensional instabilities."

Simmons takes a seat on the edge of his sofa, though Fitz is a bit more hesitant to do so himself, pausing for a moment before he sits on the opposite side. The wrapped sandwich in his hands, he lifts it up to his nose for a moment and breathes it in, as if he doesn't quite believe it's what she's said it is.

It absolutely is.