Notes: Takes place during season 1 episode 3.
Where did that dress come from that Skye wears to Ian Quinn's party?
"This is what you packed?"
Simmons was looking at two duffel bags, contents splayed across the floor and bed of Skye's small bunk. Sweaters, tanks, ripped jeans, canvas shoes – nothing appropriate for a party at a billionaire's mansion. Simmons noted that Skye hadn't actually unpacked anything. The closet was empty, and she had obviously just been pulling things out of her bags as needed, and then leaving them on the floor. The dresser was covered in makeup, some of it open and leaving smudges on the surface of the wood. Simmons nudged a pile of clothing with her food and tried to tamp down her itch to tidy the place up.
Skye shrugged. "It's everything I had in the van." She picked up a shirt and smoothed it, folding it haphazardly and laying it on the bed. Skye smiled, but Simmons cringed and silently cursed herself for speaking without thinking. Of course Skye didn't have a dress. She hardly had anything.
"You'll wear one of mine." Simmons said warmly, wrapping a hand around Skye's wrist and tugging her into the hall.
"I don't think we're the same size," Skye responded. You're built like a model, she thought, or a ballerina. I'm more like an over-developed twelve-year-old.
Simmons shook her head. "Nonsense. We're close enough. I'm sure I've got something that will work." She led Skye down the hall to her own bunk, sliding the door open to reveal a spotless room.
"Whoa," Skye breathed. Simmons had spread a handmade quilt over the bed. An extra lamp had been placed on the dresser to brighten up the dim space. It was cozy and clean and Skye felt like an imposter just stepping into Simmons' perfect world. Simmons patted the bed, indicating Skye should sit. She did, and Simmons opened her closet and began rifling through its contents.
"Ah, here's something," she said, pulling a delicate, cream colored slip dress from the rack.
Skye bit her lip. "I don't think so," she said apologetically. "Slip dresses don't really work on me."
Simmons nodded and put the dress back. She pushed a couple more hangars to the side and then pulled out another. A dark blue, structured dress that looked like it had been tailored to fit Simmons perfectly. Skye's breath stuck in her throat just thinking about trying to fit into it. What if the zipper stuck halfway up, and she had to stand there, half-naked and embarrassed in front of Simmons?
Skye shook her head and looked at the floor. "I doubt I could squeeze into it." She threw a smile at Simmons, as if she was joking, and hoped she'd let it go.
Simmons just shrugged and put the dress back. She had noticed how nervous Skye became when she started pulling dresses from the closet. They really weren't that different in size, and yet Skye was acting like there was no way she would fit in Simmons' clothes. She frowned to herself and started looking for something with a little stretch, something that would be forgiving and that might make Skye a little more comfortable.
"Aha!" Simmons exclaimed, pulling something from the back corner of the closet. A fuchsia colored A-line dress someone had gifted her a while back. It wasn't really her color and so she'd hardly worn it, but the bright pink seemed perfect for Skye's complexion. It hung loose on the hangar and Simmons hoped she could talk Skye into trying it on.
"This would look amazing on you." Simmons declared, holding it up against Skye's body. "Let's try it on, shall we?"
Skye bit her lip again, and tentatively reached out to pinch the fabric between thumb and finger. She let out a little sigh and then nodded. "I guess we can try."
She made Simmons turn around while she put the dress on. Simmons rolled her eyes but did as requested. "Okay," Skye said, after a moment. "You can turn around."
Simmons turned to see Skye looking down at the dress on herself, still pinching the skirt between her fingers and worrying at her lip with her teeth. Simmons sucked in a breath, surprised at just how good the dress really looked on Skye. "I knew it," she said with a grin. "I knew you'd look amazing."
Skye looked up with an embarrassed smile. She gave the dress an experimental twirl and responded, "It really isn't bad, is it?" Simmons just smiled and nodded in agreement.
"Right," Skye said, letting out a breath. "Now I just need to worry about hair and makeup."
"I can help you with that, too," Simmons responded. "It'll be fun – like getting ready for a date."
They walked back to Skye's bunk, and Skye began shuffling things around on top of her dresser, pulling out tubes of lipstick and bottles of foundation. "You have far more makeup than I do," Simmons commented. "I hardly ever have a reason to really bother looking nice."
Skye shrugged. "I like makeup," she said. "I don't like people to see me without it, really." She cringed, thinking that probably sounded a bit pathetic. But Simmons just nodded sympathetically. Simmons did wonder, however, if Skye's self-esteem didn't need a bit of work.
"You always look really nice," Simmons said gently. Not as nice as you, Skye thought.
"Here," Simmons said, taking the makeup Skye had pulled from the pile. "May I?" Skye shrugged again, and sat on the bed. Simmons knelt in front of her and began applying products to Skye's face. "You have such lovely skin," Simmons commented in a quiet voice. Skye smiled. It felt nice, having Simmons here, letting her help her pick a dress and do her makeup.
Simmons set down the brush she had been using to dust setting powder over Skye's cheeks. "There we are." She held up a small mirror for Skye. "Absolutely gorgeous."
Skye tried not to blush at the compliment. "Thanks for your help," she said, standing to return the makeup to the dresser top.
"Any time," Simmons responded. "You look so nice in that dress, I really think you should keep it."
"Really?" Skye looked over in surprise. "You really don't have to, I'd be glad to give it back."
Simmons nodded. "It looks much better on you than me."
Skye smiled. "Thanks," she said. Simmons just smiled and excused herself, saying she needed to get back to the lab before the mission began.
Skye looked around the small bunk, taking in the chaos she had created in her short time on the bus, and the empty closet that spoke of temporary arrangements and uncertain futures. She smoothed Simmons' dress – her dress – and then picked up a shirt from the floor. She hung it carefully in the closet and thought, if she was going to be here for a while, she may as well act like it.
