Carol Danvers was a presence unto herself. Dressed as though she’d just come from the headquarters of her magazine empire, worry flickering in her bright blue eyes. She set her satchel down on an empty stool and took her daughter’s other hand in her own, squeezing it warmly. It would be obvious to whoever was looking at them that Carol and Roxie were related, they looked so much alike. “Is there any place where you go that trouble doesn’t follow?” It was, Carol knew, a silly question. Trouble tended to follow her around too - especially back in her heyday as Ms. Marvel.

She looked up then, at Eleanor, and smiled warmly. “Carol Danvers. You must be Agent Camacho,” she extended her other hand towards the SHIELD agent. “Thank you so much for contacting me. And, I presume, your help out in the field.” After all, where SHIELD went, trouble also tended to follow. Put a SHIELD agent and an Avenger in one room together, and the universe practically begged for trouble to be brought forth.

“What antidote are they giving her?” she asked, suddenly wishing for Henries McCoy or Pym to be there. They’d be able to take a look at the antidote, make sure it was Kreek-friendly. Carol grimaced. Kreek. God, the things my daughter comes up with.

Still, she could trust SHIELD as far as the antidote went. They wouldn't harm Roxie for no reason.