No longer undercover

This wasn't office space. If anything, this was a back room, away from the normal hustle and bustle and paperwork of the TVA. It was dimly lit, and the tables seemed less than well-ordered. There were empty hangars, and shrink-wrapped jumpsuits that looked too tightly sealed for her to get into them.

From here, apparently the chute was kept working. It seemed more like the place for some repairman to access than any worker, though; Sylvie stuck her head out, looking back and forth nervously.

She coudln't see anyone. There was a vague creak of some immense system, but no human being in sight. Carefully, Sylvie tip-toed forwards, crouched slightly, and one arm crossed over her bare breasts. There had to be somewhere to go...

Vaguely, she wondered if Yelena was having any more luck than she was. She'd settle for getting the prisoners out of the TVA, she supposed - that would be... something. If nothing else, it would annoy them.

Then she could get out herself, and get something to wear along with a plan of action that would hopefully be more successful.

The noise of the Ultron incursion was worryingly muffled. She hoped she was just far enougha way from the source, and that it wasn't almost over - though even then, being far away from the scuffle wasn't hugely useful either.

Sylvie quickly crept past the dilapidated space, seeing a metal door at the far side of the room - she turned on the spot again, making sure she was alone, then stepped closer. She opened the door just slightly, and felt her cheeks flush as she peered outside.

Yep, that was the TVA she knew. An open plan office, desks and typewriters and shelves of files, occupied by several dozen operatives mindlessly working away. Wide-eyed, Sylvie shut the door, catching her breath.

She had to go out there. And, ideally, had to not be seen - both to avoid capture, and to avoid yet again being exposed while she was left stark naked.

And of all the people that could see her, it had to be the TVA. They were the last people she wanted to catch a glimpse while she was nude.

Sylvie opened the door a crack again - there were bookshelves a little way from where she was. If she left the maintenance space, and darted over there, maybe no one would look up from their desks to see her...

Sylvie swallowed, face hot. At the sound of an explosion, some last hurrah from the Ultrons, she didn't have time to think - she squeezed out through the door and flailed her away across the all-too-open path to the bookshelves, throwing herself onto all-fours in her hast to quickly and quietly make it to the barely-cover.

She could see people through the cracks above each layer of books. Hopefully they couldn't see enough of her to make her as anything suspicious - though, Sylvia reflected, nervously crossing her arms, they could still see far toomuch of her. She awkwardly got to her feet, crouching a little to try and keep her core hidden behind a shelf of books. Did the TVA have flesh-tone suits? So long as that was all anyone saw...

Arms very tightly crossed, Sylvie turned around on the spot. This place still felt too open. Behind her was a long path that wound all around various work-areas - ahead of her was a wall, that seemed to lead down to other levels, and looked out onto a wide-open space. She stared in disbelief, face warming at the vast space open ahead of her.

Hopefully people that direction were too far away to make out any details of her. Still, it wasn't nearly as tucked-in as she'd have liked to be.

Well, it was a step one. Out of the behind-the-scenes area. Now to navigate the TVA, and hopefully find a TemPad again, or something she could use to get away. Ideally without being seen.

She looked out above the files on each shelf, squinting through the narrow gaps either side of her, in the hope of seeing some better option.

To one side was a sea of desks with operatives doing their dry paperwork. She swallowed, and firmly turned her attention to the other direction, and several more bookshelves. There were still some people browsing though, thankfully, for now, some distance away.

She edged towards the end of the bookshelf, shaking a little, feeling hyperaware of every stray molecule of air as it settled against her skin - the backs of her shins, between her hips, the small of her back, her breasts - and feeling all too out in the open.

No one was looking. Face burning, Sylvie slipped out of the minimal cover of the bookshelves, darted one across, and stepped back into the next aisle across.

Technically she was further away from the desks now, anyway. Though it still felt open. She swallowed, trying to let her heart rate slow, hoping her face would cool down. This was progress, right? The further this way she got, the closer she was to any potential TemPads or way out.

She’d probably have to mug some operative, but that was doable, if mortifying.

Sylvie quickly looked around, quietly crossing one arm over her chest, awkwardly trying to stand again so that the gaps between shelves didn’t show anything revealing. There were still people looking among the files, a little way across; Sylvie faltered where she was.

Maybe she could get to the stairs? There were a set that led down, to a level she couldn’t see, but hopefully one that had less people than here.

Her legs felt unsteady just from considering the prospect of moving ahead - still, she made herself do it again, darting forward into the open to cross to the next aisle. Flushed, she made it back into the next space.

Deep breaths. Steady.

She heard footsteps; Sylvie quickly looked back, to see someone walking down the wide open walkway in the direction that she’d first crossed from, blithely carrying a folder in their arms. Sylvie froze, unsure or where she could possibly hide without exposing herself from yet more angles.

She covered her core with a hand, other arm still over her breasts, and bit her lip, silently hoping that they wouldn’t look sideways. She swallowed, waited, and watched.

The TVA agent kept walking. Gulping, as they became level with Sylvie’s aisle, she stepped back and sideways to go to the next bookshelf, and the one they’d just passed, almost slumping in relief-

Until one of the operatives browsing the file walked into that same row. There was a moment of silence, Sylvie somehow going even redder. For a moment, the operative stared, dumbstruck.

Sylvie couldn’t see a TemPad on them. Instead, in a moment of panic, she turned around and rather than face the stranger, shot towards the stairs a few aisles across, and hoped that whatever was at the bottom was less open than this.