Sixty...Jane's head was suddenly spinning and she needed air. She was pretty sure Coulson was going to kill her and put her brain in a fish bowl to save himself future trouble. Her small hand slapped heavily at the window button on her car door and she took comfort from the smoggy city air outside and the chaotic noises that came with it.

She stole a man and a car from the most dangerous organization in the world. What had she been thinking? Laying her head against the window to feel the sun, she pulled it back inside and rolled the window up again, deciding it was too big a target for any agents after them.

"Turn left in two blocks. I live in Staten island..." she rubbed her face and clutched her bag closer. "I've gotta make a call."