She should have known that her going undercover at HYDRA would end up being a disaster.
(Truth to be told, she knew it, even counted on it, she was reckless, and she wanted to be free from her pain at any cost.)
She just didn't know what exactly that would entail. She had suspicions of dying a horrible death, being brainwashed, but what happened turned out to be far more terrible.
It starts after she clumsily 'saves' Bakshi's life from Skye's well-timed bullet.
(It's a lie, the first thrum of excitement − which is so wrong, on so many levels − comes when Bakshi leans too close while interrogating her. Of course she's sharp and gives the perfect answer as far as she can lie and isn't distracted, but that doesn't mean she can't appreciate a well-built, solid male form.)
Bakshi was interested in her before, but after that it gets out of hand. Jemma suspects it's partly because she's a known ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and Bakshi isn't stupid, he's wary and watches for every little shift in people's eyes. His gaze is like a knife, cutting into her very soul, baring her. Which might be the reason, she can't really look away when he finds her one afternoon after the Donnie incident.
"Miss Simmons, I require your assistance for one mission." It sounds like an order, so she doesn't do anything just nod, but her heart starts beating so fast, she's mildly surprised she's still conscious. And if it's because of her nerves about being her cover blown or about something else, she doesn't dwell on.
Coulson said, she has to make friends, and Bakshi is very high on the ladder − so he would be fitting, but she's such a terrible liar. On one hand, he's perfect because of his high rank, but also, he's more cautious than anyone else and she probably should have convince Kenneth of her HYDRA loyalty first.
She half hopes the mission would go on without her − maybe SHIELD coming in with guns blazing or some alien invasion happens or Bakshi just would go AWOL − but she has no luck.
She gets no briefing or info before whatsoever, just a time when she has to report and when she sees the deep red dress that waits for her, lying on the back of a chair in the empty office, she takes a step back.
"It's for the mission, I'm sure undercover work is no stranger to you." Bakshi seemingly appears out of nowhere from behind and very close to her. She tries not to concentrate on the feel and the warmth of his body. Definitely too close. What he said could suggest that he knows she's undercover at the moment, that she's lying, trying to get intel, and his looming over her could be threatening. It is. Sort of.
"Well, I'm not cleared for field work, I'm a terrible shot, really…" she babbles − and it hits her how long was the last time she babbled carelessly. It flashes her back to a different time, a different Jemma Simmons. "If you want me to run screaming in front of bullets maybe I could be some use, but other than that…"
She stops as his mouth quirks up one side. It's such a strange sight on him, it makes him a bit more human, not some evil, nameless, Bond movie-like villain. But she gathers herself and pushes the thought away.
"I'm very aware of your capabilities, Miss Simmons. And though you proved yourself useful with 'running in front of bullets,' saving my life, I'd rather need the scientist side of you right now. There's an auction of sorts and they're selling some interesting alien samples - I need someone who can verify their authenticity on site. That site being a very boring, but rather fancy social gathering."
"Oh," she says quite surprised. Then, just to break the tense − for her, anyway − silence, she adds, "Then I must have some equipment."
"Anything you ask for." A simple enough statement, very professional and factual, still capable of sending shivers down her spine.
The 'mission' itself takes place in a ritzy mansion, seemingly the one percenters having decided that possessing any alien thing is some kind of indicator of prestige, it attracts a lot of people.
The tinkling of champagne glasses and the sound of laughter − and a bit of liquid courage − relaxes her enough, so she doesn't jump much when Bakshi lightly places a hand on her bare shoulders and stirs her toward the dance floor.
"Not exactly how I imagined an auction," she stammers, as she puts her hands to his shoulders and they start to dance. It's no surprise that Bakshi can dance with grace − he looks like someone stepping out from a romance novel, all perfect hair, smile and mild manners. Not including all the bloodshed.
"I said 'of sorts,'" he replies with a light air.
For a moment, she only concentrates of the feel of her hands in his, their skin touching. She doesn't really know if this situation makes her skin crawl or not. She doesn't know a lot of things nowadays.
"May I ask a personal question?" Bakshi's voice is surprisingly soft, and short of knowing what else to do, Jemma nods. "What exactly are you so angry of, Miss Simmons?"
She almost gasps, because it hits her hard it's so true. She's been angry ever since Ward dropped them to the bottom of the ocean and Fitz haven't returned − not really, not the whole Fitz −, and she… She didn't deserve to be the one to come out of the ordeal without a scratch.
The anger − toward Ward, HYDRA, S.H.I.E.L.D., the lies, the betrayal, the secrets, herself, all of it − burns so hot in her veins that sometimes she really can imagine herself punishing, killing somebody − most preferably Ward − for her misfortunes. It flares inside her as an eternal light, keeping her restless, slowly eating away at her and scraping her insides out.
"Everything." She decides to stay in the end, because it's the easy explanation and anyway, she doesn't own Bakshi a real answer.
"Takes one to know one," he says, and in his eyes something akin to sorrow flasher over, hinting at some painful past. "But let me give you an advice: Don't let it burn you to ashes. Control it, tame it, accept the change, and in the end, you can harness it."
From then, it's all polite chitchat with the other guests, and nonsensical small talk until Jemma doesn't get her hands on her sample − which is in fact some kind of alien organism, and it's fascinating enough to take her minds off the painful truth. No one at S.H.I.E.L.D., not Coulson, May, Skye could see her problem, but Bakshi saw right through her, and pinpointed that sore point, that festering wound no one could understand or help with. The others, of course, tried not to drown in their ocean of sorrows, but she couldn't reach out to anyone for a helping hand.
And the more troubling thing is: It's harder to see the HYDRA agents and workers as evil monsters anymore. Even when she started working at the lab, the others were just normal scientists, it felt a lot like being in the lab at the Academy. They shared the same passion toward science and knowledge, they did ordinary, boring things.
And now she saw beneath the mask of one of the most terrifying monsters she's ever met, and what stared at her from the darkness was most definitely something vulnerable and human. It's a disturbing thought that keeps her up many nights.
It gets worse as time moves on: She notices how she omits details when she reports to Coulson. Nothing mission relevant, just how exactly this or that mission go. Surprisingly, Bakshi's involvement in her cases is one of the things she doesn't mention. She asks herself the reasons and she couldn't find one that rings true: Mostly she settles on because if Coulson knew how much attention Bakshi pays to her, she would have been pulled from the mission. And she doesn't want to screw this up: This work makes her feel important, like she's not helpless − like back in the Playground, around Fitz.
To silence her guilt and doubts, she throws herself into her work: she's a damn good biochemist, and someone (presumably Bakshi, because he's supervising everything she does) arranges her to get more complex works. Cleary, they're testing her abilities and loyalties, but she doesn't mind as long as the daily tasks keep her busy.
That she might be helping to develop something that could take lives and harm people is an ever-present horrible, sinking feeling in her stomach. But wasn't this exactly what S.H.I.E.L.D did? a poisonous voice whispers in her mind, How can you be so sure they haven't used you already? How can you be so sure S.H.I.E.L.D is the good guy here? How do you know every wrong choice is HYDRA's fault?
And the real and painful answer is, she just doesn't know, especially after what they did to Donnie. She already lost her rock solid trust in S.H.I.E.L.D. when HYDRA poked out its heads, and she wasn't sure she'd be an agent much longer but she loved her team, so she stayed. (Even if in the end, she chose to run away to HYDRA.)
What she sees here doesn't ease her doubts either: Yeah, they want the alien tech to make weapons, but that's what S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted. Yes, they wanted to protect the world, but how did that turn out? People weren't mean to have that much power, some selfishness, some prejudice always find their way to them, corrupting and forcing them make bad choices.
If anyone asked her, she'd say she's had enough of this murky territory of morality. Of course, science brings out its own ethical questions as well, but back then she could have naively pretended everything stayed safely in a lab.
Bakshi complicates things too. He's always near, and after a time, she doesn't find it too unnerving. He often comes to her for scientific explanations − really listening or at least trying to understand her jargon babble. She doesn't find it kind of endearing, no. And there comes a time when the analyzing works and briefings take too long, stretching into the night, and maybe a dinner and drinks are involved.
It's horrifying but somehow he becomes familiar, they talk about everything and anything, she notes his favorite foods, starts to learn to read his well-guarded expressions. Though his past and childhood never surfaces, she knows enough about it from Coulson's profiling of high ranking HYDRA officers.
But she doesn't see an evil monster, rather someone who's ambitious and wants to survive at any cost − this revelation makes her uneasy because for a flitting moment it reminds her of Ward, who she doesn't want to understand.
There are lingering touches, longing gazes and whispered sentences, sending a shiver down her spine − she can ignore the growing tension which only could explode into a disaster.
Or at least she could ignore it up until a point.
She has to go out on a field mission again, someone wants to sell a bomb which has a similar effect than the Obelisk, and she's one of the lead experts on the alien tech projects, so it's inevitable they choose her to be there on site to ensure it's safely handled. Of course, Bakshi is one of the agents sent with her, but she's not surprised by it.
The mission goes as expected: Someone else with guns also gets there too ,and in the hurry to get rid of any threat, the seller sets off the bomb, reasoning it only shows as a demonstration for future buyers.
The adrenaline thrums in her veins, as Bakshi guides and protects her along the way to get to safety. She'd like to disarm the bomb, but that's not her expertise and even she can't say what the biological damage will be, she couldn't look at the damn thing before the gunfire started, so she half fears she's going to die here and now, in a HYDRA uniform of all things. (She finds it a bit funny, that she's going to die lying, pretending, wearing a mask.)
The explosion is big enough that they feel the heat of it, but they get through it with only a few scratches. Jemma's mind is so heavy with her yet another near death experience, she doesn't even realize when they arrived at one of HYDRA's safe houses.
Her body humming with adrenaline, she doesn't hesitate when Bakshi fiercely kisses her and presses her hard against the door. The kiss is hungry, maddening and desperate. His lips are soft and hot, as he kisses his way down her neck, licking along the line of her collarbone.
She moans, and he chuckles, as she impatiently grabs at his belt. Unbuttoning her shirt, he continues his way to her nipple, catching it between his teeth, then swirls his tongue around it. His fingers easily finds its way under the band of her panties, slipping into her folds. A few strokes is enough to make her lose any hold on her control she had.
Then he is in her, thrusting hard and deep, her legs are wrapped around his waist, their movements are frantic. It doesn't take long until she feels like she's on the edge, unable to think of anything than the pleasure. She moans against his throat, body clenching around his body, as she came.
After that, they somehow find their way to the bedroom.
Bakshi doesn't seem anything more than a people who break too many times and lost his way. It's not a coincidence HYDRA requites people with problems, who are thinking themselves worthless if they aren't use to somebody. Bakshi and Ward's tale, as far as she can tell, seems to be the same, they are cut from the same cloth: finding meaning in following orders, guarding their hearts, struggling with themselves. They were − are − lost and the perfect target in a way.
As she lies there, wrapped in the blanket and Bakshi's warmth − and her guilt −, an uncomfortable thought worms its way in her mind:
She would fit right in with them too. But in her case, S.H.I.E.L.D. got to her first, she isn't sure whether it's a good thing.
She gets home − though she isn't sure it's the right word − in a flurry of events: Her intel gathering gets exposed by Raina, Bobbi turns out to be S.H.I.E.L.D. and there is a lot of running and gunfire and fighting and then she's out of there. She doesn't really have the time to think about what it all means.
Everyone welcomes her back, and a pang of nostalgia overwhelms her, it's almost like back then when everything started, when they were a happy group of misfits bickering and idealistically thinking that they'll save the world.
After a few misstep, she can finally tell Fitz that she feels guilty, and she feels sorry, and that she's a terrible friend. They try to make amends, but they both changed, it feels good to be back at the lab beside Fitz, but they're clearly worlds apart.
She tries not to think about Bakshi, because on one hand, it was all just attraction and chemistry, not anything resembling to love. (She's not really on good terms with her complicated feelings.) On the other hand, she betrayed him, even if for the greater good, even if she's the good guy in the situation and Bakshi is an instrument of HYDRA. It's not something that can be overcome, she thinks.
Oddly, she finds herself pulled toward the security cameras, showing Ward − but before she left it was all about 'how could he' and now she sees a distorted reflection of herself which makes her skin crawl.
When she meets Bakshi next time, they race against each other. She's just there because she's the emergency field doctor, but something goes wrong, so of course she runs in after them, trying to grab the alien artifact before HYDRA or anyone else. As luck would have it, she's alone in a corridor when she runs into Bakshi. There's a moment, which seems to be an eternity, when they are just staring at each other, and she almost expect a bullet through her heart.
But Bakshi only offers her the box he's holding, presumably what they came for. She silently accepts it automatically, without thinking about it, and it's a clear indication how much she's used to working with him.
"I don't understand," she says. "Why?"
"Well, you saved my life once, I'm returning the favor." His voice sounds cold and measured, but his eyes tell a different story. There are words left unsaid, hanging between them. After a long silence, while neither of them moves, he adds, "If by any chance, you're displeased with your current employer… meet me there?" And with that, he pulls out a card out of his pocket, like he's been carrying it with him for who knows how long.
"I'm not going to change sides ever, I think you know that. 'Hail HYDRA' is not my style," she says, but it has a bitter edge, cutting into her own heart. Yes, she definitely never going to be working for them, but losing Bakshi and whatever they had between them feels like real loss, so it must have been something real, which is frightening enough.
"No, I suppose not, but that's not what I'm offering." It's the only answer she gets, before he turns around the corner and is gone.
She stands in front of the door, contemplating her choices. Her heart drums a heavy rhythm in her chest, like a bird writhing against her rib cage, wanting to be free.
Free. It's a scary word, dangerous and heady. She can be free now, in a way: She won't be tangled in the web that's S.H.I.E.L.D. and the lies that was spun around it. She can leave behind everything − guilt, doubts, grudges, and the ever-present anger that ate her alive and left her hollow. The decision she makes next is going to change her life for better or worse.
She wonders how she got here, Jemma Simmons, eminent student, thought most likely to be a groundbreaking scientist, follower of rules, chipper, all around good girl. But this conjured image of herself feels false and leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She's no longer that Jemma Simmons, rather a distorted fun house mirror version of it.
The constant smile faded, naiveté turned to distrust, and she lost herself in the midst of blaming herself and hating Ward and HYDRA. She didn't want to face the changes, so she held onto everything with teeth and claws and when it just turned everything horrible with Fitz, she chose to run.
This moment, this decision feels a bit the same to her, maybe she's the Jemma who runs from problems which can't be solved pure and simple. But she's a scientist through and through, her reaction to everything is dissecting, analyzing and seeing what makes it thick. And right now, she needs to find herself, and what lies behind the door − danger, temptation − might be just what she needs to do that.
Now that she's here, she'll find out who the real Jemma Simmons is, which is a thrilling idea. She takes a deep breath, steadies her shaking hands and takes a step.