A/N: Another fabulous tumblr prompt: skimmons prompt - (establish skimmons relationship) the team has to send 2 people undercover for a mission which entitles acting like a couple and coulson sends skye and bobbi instead of skye and jemma and jemma gets real jealous of bobbi being touchy with her gf. skye likes jealous jemma.
"This can't be the mission plan," Hunter says. "It sounds like the plot of a porn film."
"It's not like we haven't done those before," Mack says. "I mean, did anyone really need you in a Speedo during that mission in Boca?"
"Yes," Hunter says immediately. "That delicious swimming pool magnate was storing the bomb plans in an underwater safe."
"And you could have worn a dive suit like any normal spy," Bobbi mutters.
"Anyway," Coulson says loudly, "the plan is as such. Agent Morse and Agent Skye will be going in. Hunter, Mack, and May will provide supplemental assistance as needed."
He fans out a series of files, passing specific ones to each agent in turn.
Skye raises her hand hesitantly. "Could someone explain to me again why Bobbi and I need to go in together? Seems to me that one agent would have a better time fitting in."
"Our target is specifically looking for a couple to live in as caretakers of her rare books, maps, antiquities, and letters. Profiling and preliminary investigations have shown she's more likely to hire a multi-ethnic lesbian couple," Coulson says.
"Hold up," Hunter says. "We can tell that now? Just from prelims? God, that sounds like a porn film in itself."
"We're wheels up in four hours," Coulson continues. "Read up on the mission. We've got a real chance to take out a HYDRA leader and figure out where they're storing one of the Diviners. Let's not screw this up."
Most of the agents head out of the briefing room, leaving only Skye and Jemma at the conference table. Skye leans forward and flips through the file. "I might be multi-ethnic, but I know next to nothing about all this rare antique stuff," she mutters.
"Never touch anything with your bare hands," Jemma says.
Skye looks up, a glint in her eyes. "Is this advice for the mission, or real life?"
"Oh, no, just the mission," Jemma replies. "There are many things you should touch with your bare hands in real life."
Skye holds up one hand, palm out, and Jemma responds in kind, placing her palm against Skye's. Jemma has to giggle when Skye sends a gentle wave of vibrations into her fingertips. They run up Jemma's spine like delicious tickles.
"Cheater," Jemma murmurs, and she leans in to kiss Skye.
"Because I'm going to be dating Bobbi in four hours?" Skye asks.
Jemma's eyes darken just a bit, and Skye knows she's hit a nerve. "This doesn't mean anything," she says gently. "It's a mission."
"Bobbi and Hunter fell in love on a mission."
"And they're divorced."
"They're still each other's emergency contacts."
"Well, so are we. So we've got that going for us."
"Skye. Can you please be serious?"
Skye tucks her hair behind her ears. "Jems, you know this won't change anything. I'm not in love with Bobbi. She smells like extra-strength deodorant and brown sugar. I'm not into that."
"Oh?"
"No," Skye says, standing up and squeezing Jemma's hand again. "I like peppermint…"
"Mm-hmm?"
Skye brings her arms up and rests them gently on Jemma's shoulders. They sway back and forth, foreheads together. "… and cherry Chap-Stick…"
"Go on."
"… and strangely enough, rubbing alcohol. 'Cause this girl I love is really into science."
"Oy!" comes Hunter's voice from the hallway. "Stop making out in there – we've got gear to load!"
Her forehead still against Jemma's, Skye murmurs, "I know it would be wrong, but I'd like to earthquake him off his feet."
"This place looks like the set of Downtown Abbey," Skye says as she and Bobbi follow a tuxedoed butler down a short hallway.
"You know it's Downton Abbey, right?" Bobbi says. "And I love that show. We should watch it more often."
"The episode where the one daughter wears pants is my favorite," Skye says.
"I do love a woman who wears pants."
The butler turns to them, opening a mahogany door with a white-gloved hand. "Madam will see you now," he says.
Skye and Bobbi move into a large, wood-paneled room with high, vaulted ceilings and windows spanning the entire width of one wall. The other walls are given over to bookshelves filled with volumes of all sizes, with some space devoted to curios and knickknacks. Though it's warm outside, a fire crackles merrily in a fireplace. A large desk sits in front of the windows, and at that desk sits a woman who looks exactly like Skye's book-prompted headcanon of Professor McGonagall.
Bobbi speaks first. "Good afternoon."
The woman raises her head. "Good afternoon. Please, have a seat."
The negotiations go quickly. Helena St. James – collector of rare books, documents, and other fine antiquities – is looking for two caretakers to catalogue and examine her museum-sized collection before she donates a sizeable portion of it to a nearby university. She explains that her work with multiple charities and non-profit organizations takes her away from her manse (Primrose House, because of course such a place has an a name) frequently and often unexpectedly, so these caretakers need to be self-sufficient and able to work as a team. A full household staff oversees all of the other housekeeping duties, and room and board is provided along with a generous salary.
Helena is extremely pleased with the résumés handed to her by "Daisy" and "Elaine," and murmurs approvingly over their previous experience and work history. "And how long have you been together?"
"Just over five years," Bobbi says, taking Skye's hand in hers.
"And why haven't you proposed yet?" Helena asks, a twinkle in her eye.
"We're waiting until she finishes grad school," Skye replies. "You know, if she ever gets there."
They laugh, and Helena declares that they are the most qualified candidates she's seen, and the most promising as well. She offers them the job, and so it is within an hour and a half of their arrival, Bobbi and Skye are installed as employees and residents of Primrose House.
"That seemed way too easy," Bobbi says softly as she and Skye unpack their things in the suite of rooms that will be their living space until either they find the Diviner or HYDRA catches onto them.
Skye frowns. Something about Primrose House feels wrong, and not just because she's there with Bobbi instead of Jemma. She can't put her finger on it, but her uneasiness is growing into a near-physical state of nausea and anxiety.
Bobbi catches her expression and gently sits her down on the bed, holding her tightly. She starts talking to Skye about nothing in particular, running her fingers through Skye's hair, but Skye can't hear any of it. The only thing she knows is that she can smell brown sugar when all she wants to smell is peppermint.
"You're still watching this?" Fitz asks as he enters the briefing room with a plate of nachos. "You've been watching them for hours. What do you think they're going to do that's so important?"
"I don't know," Jemma snaps irritably.
"Nacho?"
"No."
Fitz sits down at the table next to her, and for a while they watch the live feeds together. Jemma clicks through the multiple cameras, installed a week or so previously by a SHIELD team, seeing Bobbi working in the main library and Skye next door in a smaller room filled with antiques and artifacts. Some part of her is relieved that they're not together, despite the fact that over the past four days, their mission status as a couple has required hugs, kisses, bed-sharing, hand-holding, and all sorts of similar things Jemma would prefer Skye do with her instead of Bobbi.
Bobbi holds up a leather-bound record book and looks at it, her expression puzzled. She says something to Skye, who puts down the ornate ivory box she'd been examining and comes to take a look.
"This one talks about silver artifacts being shipped from Germany," Bobbi says.
"It also says those silver artifacts were bowling trophies," Skye points out.
"This is about as interesting as watching those infomercials for vacuums that can hold up bowling balls," Fitz says, crunching into another tortilla chip.
Jemma wants to slap him, but she also doesn't want to tell him that before he came in she watched Bobbi and Skye talk about two puzzling maps (turned out to be written in Hindi, and one was upside down), attempt to open a small chest (failed, and Bobbi broke a nail, to which Jemma took almost obscene amounts of pleasure), discuss the differences between two statues of round-bellied naked women (none, as far as Jemma could tell), and accidentally knock over a bust of Roman origin (it was Bobbi's fault, and Jemma again was obscenely pleased; she would have been happier if it had broken, but it instead it fell into a pile of medieval tapestry). And the infomercial about vacuums picking up bowling balls would have been more interesting.
Skye goes back to the room of antiquities and begins examining a crate full of small gold and bejeweled trinkets. They look to Jemma's eyes to be Egyptian or of similar origin, and she likes the way Skye's slender hands in their protective white cotton gloves move over each piece.
"You're having the Tomb Raider fantasy again, aren't you?" Fitz asks.
"Shut up."
At the end of their "work day" Skye is covered in dust, exhausted, and still anxious and nauseous, sensations that haven't abated since they started work at Primrose House. A headache pulses at her temples and she feels dizzy. She can't help but worry that she's touched something that's reacting badly with her Inhuman biology.
She and Bobbi shower together – more to discuss the mission more than anything else – and lay down in bed together. Bobbi wants to cuddle; Skye would rather take her skin off with a cheese grater. Everything feels wrong.
But they're on a mission, so Skye stays quiet in Bobbi's embrace until she's sure the other woman is asleep. Then, still dizzy and disoriented, she slides out of bed and tiptoes down the hallway, down the back stairs, and into the small room where she'd been working earlier in the day.
She turns on one of the small lamps in the corner and shifts some of the crates of artifacts around. She isn't sure what she's looking for, or if it's even in the room at all.
"What's wrong?" a soft voice asks through the coms.
Skye nearly cries with relief at Jemma's voice. She sinks down against one of the bookshelves, wedging herself in between the shelf and a crate of things in front of her. "I don't know," she whispers. "I feel wrong."
She rubs her eyes. "This feels wrong. I can't figure it out."
"The mission?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. Everything."
Skye puts her head in her hands.
"Maybe it's not there," Jemma says. "Maybe they've already moved the Diviner."
"No. It has to be here. I feel it."
"Feel it how?" Jemma asks, her voice suddenly interested.
"In my… in everything," Skye says, frustrated.
"Get more specific."
"My stomach, I guess. And my spine."
"Okay. Give me a minute."
Skye leans back and closes her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Running your vitals," Jemma replies.
Skye's not surprised that her girlfriend can do that from hundreds of miles away; instead she's grateful and reassured. They'll figure it out together. Hopefully soon.
"Well, that's… interesting," Jemma says after a few minutes.
"I don't like the sound of that."
"I'm detecting some particles of… well, I'm not sure what. But they're leaching through your skin, it seems. Whatever it is isn't in the room with you, so it has to be coming from somewhere else."
"Particles of what? Anthrax? Lead? Something worse I haven't considered but you undoubtedly know everything about?"
"Of course not, silly, or everyone in the house would be affected. And Bobbi's clear," Jemma answers. "No, this is something reacting specifically with your blood."
"Score one for the alien hybrid," Skye mutters sarcastically, unenthusiastically twirling one finger in the air.
"You've touched the Diviner. Its essence is in your system now," Jemma says. "And we don't know much about them, so it's possible your body is calling out to the Diviner like some sort of… homing beacon."
"Okay, great. How do we channel it so we can get the hell out of here?"
"I don't have the answer to that," Jemma says. "Give me a few hours."
Helena St. James meets them at breakfast the next morning, all smiles. She presents the couple with a large bouquet of sunflowers. "Sent with regards from the museum head at the university," she says. "He's so excited about the collection and your work cataloguing it."
"Thank you," Bobbi says. "I love sunflowers."
"Me too," Skye agrees. "We used to have some at our first apartment, remember, honey?"
Bobbi laughs. "Of course! That was the place over the pizza parlor – and if I remember correctly, those sunflowers were eaten by squirrels who got tired of gluten-free crust."
"I don't understand that gluten-free nonsense," Helena says frankly. "Seems like an awful lot of modern hooey."
She takes an English muffin from the plate in the center of the table. "Now, I thought I'd check in on your progress this morning, and after that I'd like you to join me for lunch on the terrace."
Bobbi and Skye agree, and so the morning is spent with Helena in the library and the adjoining room of antiquities. The elderly woman goes over each decision and sorting of every item and seems generally pleased with the decisions made by her caretakers.
"It seems you've put a lot of work into this collection of German documents," Helena says, sounding only mildly suspicious. "Any reason?"
"I'm a history buff," Bobbi confesses. "And I have some German heritage on my mother's side – I just find it all so fascinating."
"Hmm," Helena responds, but says nothing more.
Shortly thereafter the phone rings in her office, leaving Bobbi and Skye alone.
Bobbi looks over to see Skye leaning heavily on a still-closed crate, swaying faintly. "Hey," she says, darting over. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," Skye mumbles. "It hurts."
Bobbi puts her arms around Skye and lowers her to the floor. "What hurts?"
"I don't know," Skye repeats, leaning into Bobbi's embrace. She's too tired to care who's holding her up any longer; she just wants to be held until it's over. "It's heavy and it hurts."
Her head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and she can't breathe.
"We'll figure it out," Bobbi promises, and she kisses Skye on the top of her head.
"We need to go in," Jemma says to Coulson.
"I disagree with your suggestion, Agent Simmons," Coulson says mildly.
"Skye is ill, and it's because of the Diviner."
Coulson looks up. "Continue."
Jemma points to the live feeds. "She just collapsed."
She mentions nothing about the way Bobbi is holding Skye (far too possessively in her opinion) or the fact that Skye seems so disoriented that she might actually be enjoying it.
"We need the Diviner," Coulson says. "I'm sorry, but we have to keep them in until they find it."
Jemma resists the urge to let out a screech of frustration.
"I know you're worried about Skye," Coulson says, his voice a bit gentler.
"She's with Bobbi," Jemma blurts before she can stop herself. "If I was there…"
Going bright red, she cuts herself off.
"I understand completely," Coulson says. "There's no shame in worrying about someone you care for, Jemma."
"Guys?" Bobbi's voice filters up from the coms. "I think we might have a lead on the Diviner."
"Keep going," Fitz instructs. "The tones seem to be coming from a room with a higher resonant frequency."
Bobbi pads carefully down the hallway. "Like what? A kitchen?"
"A kitchen, a bathroom – something with tile."
"What did you tell Helena about Skye?" Jemma asks.
"That she wasn't feeling well and needed to lie down," Bobbi replies shortly. "The lady of the manor got an emergent call from one of her charities and had to go out anyway."
She feels a bit ridiculous, holding a metal funnel up to her com device as she moves around Primrose House, trying to send a tone she can't even hear back to her team.
"Closer," Fitz says. "On your left."
Bobbi isn't sure how FitzSimmons managed to find a way to track the strange tones she'd heard when Skye collapsed, only that she's grateful for it. At first she'd thought the sounds were coming from the wrist monitor Skye wore; Fitz corrected her quickly, saying the monitor was most likely a conduit for the Diviner particles streaming through the house and towards Skye. A few quick modifications to the monitor, her movements guided by Fitz, and Bobbi now searched for the Diviner like an inept hearing-impaired cat burglar.
"It's a bathroom," she says.
"If it's tiled it could be our place."
Bobbi opens the bathroom door, still unsure how she's managed to avoid running into any member of the household staff, and locks herself in.
"Yes, yes," Fitz says, sounding excited. "Definitely in here."
Bobbi scans the ornate powder room. "I don't see it."
"Well, we hear it," Jemma answers, sounding irritated.
"The toilet tank," Fitz suggests.
"You've got to be kidding me," Bobbi groans. "An extremely valuable HYDRA artifact and they hide it in the toilet?"
"It's actually quite brilliant if you ask me." Fitz chuckles. "And maybe a little gross."
Bobbi lowers the funnel and pulls the top off the toilet tank. Sure enough, wrapped in some sort of futuristic plastic, is the unmistakable shape of a Diviner.
"You found it!" Fitz exclaims. "Now all you have to do is secure it in the case we sent and…"
"How's she supposed to do that?" Jemma demands. "She can't touch it, and Skye's passed out. God, this is a catastrophe."
"Calm down," Fitz says.
"Don't you tell me to calm down, Leopold!" Jemma huffs. "First I have to watch the two of them in there being all cuddly and couple-y, and I know that's not a word but I'm using it as one anyway, and then of course something goes wrong with the plan and now Skye's sick and if I was there I could help and I'm not thereand all I want is for them to come home safe and…"
"You guys realize I can hear all of this, right?" a voice croaks.
"Skye," Jemma breathes. "Are you all right?"
"I feel like I've been hit in the head," Skye replies, "and like I'll need a twelve-hour nap. But I'm alive and awake and I'll go get the damn thing."
"Oh. Uh, well, good," Jemma says. "Well done."
"And Jems?"
"Hmm?"
"I miss you too."
"You two are gross," Bobbi says.
You're gross, Jemma thinks irritably.
Skye lasts long enough to get the Diviner out of the toilet tank and into the case before she collapses again, but by that point Hunter and May are there to assist with the extraction. They're able to get her out of Primrose House and back to the base before she wakes up.
When she does wake, eighteen hours later, the first thing she sees is Jemma.
"Hi," Skye mumbles sleepily.
"Never do that to me again," Jemma says sharply.
"You say that a lot," Skye replies.
"Because you scare the hell out of me a lot!"
Skye yawns. "How come you're not cuddling with me?"
"Because I can't pace and cuddle at the same time."
"Is this still about me and Bobbi?"
"No!" Jemma answers far too quickly.
Skye pushes herself upright and looks over at Jemma. "You're jealous," she says, grinning.
"I told you I wasn't jealous."
"Jealous," Skye sings softly.
"I am not jealous!"
"Well, that's a shame," Skye says.
Jemma looks at her confusedly.
"Because I think I like jealous Jemma. It even sounds right. And I might be willing to do… certain things… for a jealous woman who defended my honor on coms and praised me for being able to reach into a toilet tank."
"Oh, stuff it."
"Hmm, guess there's no one here who matches that description," Skye says, and yawns again. "Guess I'll just have to go back to sleep and dream about that girl."
She lies down and turns to face the wall, counting silently in her head the seconds until Jemma gives in to the teasing.
Four… five… six…
"You're ridiculous, you know that?" Jemma grumbles, but she climbs into bed with Skye.
"Am I?" Skye rolls over to face her. "At least I'm not the one who's jealous of a fake relationship."
Jemma groans. "How long before you forget about this?"
Skye leans in and kisses Jemma, sweetly at first and then a little more strongly. More of those ticklish vibrations ping up Jemma's spine, sending electricity through her veins like wildfire.
Jemma's eyes go wide with surprise.
"I told you," Skye says, licking her lips as she pulls back. "I like cherry Chap-Stick, and I definitely like jealous women."
