Skye didn't normally do things like this.

She wasn't a stalker or anything creepy like that. She wasn't the type of person who pursued someone they barely had a conversation with. To be honest, most girls came to her. She would flash her smile, toss a wink, and the number would suddenly appear, written on her hand in some kind of indelible ink.

But this time was different.

When Dr. Jemma Simmons, walked into the coffee shop where she worked, Skye found herself at a loss for words. She was gorgeous. Her accent was flawless. And her smile… Man, don't even get Skye started on her smile.

Skye had tried everything to get the good Doctor's attention. She flashed her smile. She made small talk. She even wrote her name adorably on her half calf venti latte. It took everything in her power not to put her number underneath it. But, nothing seemed to work.

Sure, Jemma smiled back. Sometimes she even chatted for a bit. But, after a few minutes of very awkward flirting on Skye's part (another thing that never happens) she would look passed Skye at the clock on the wall, excuse herself, and hurry out the door. Skye would watch her go with a sigh before inwardly cursing herself and taking the order of the next person.

So, when she finally had a day off, she used her computer skills to find Dr. Simmons office and exactly what type of doctor she was. She could fake being sick. She could fake any illness if it gave her a chance to actually have a full conversation with Jemma.

When google gave her the answer she had been so desperately searching for, Skye's jaw slacked. "A vet?" she muttered to no one as she leaned back in her desk chair. "Shit."

Skye was not exactly an animal person. She was too busy for a pet and she wasn't a fan of fleas. Her mind raced with a plan. There had to be something she could do. She crossed her arms against her chest, her fingers tapping on her forearm as she formulated a plan. After a moment, it hit her. Without another thought, Skye was jumped out of her chair and was out the door….

Skye would normally be ashamed of her behavior. It was unlike her, but she couldn't help herself. She bounced her leg anxiously as she stared at the receptionist's desk. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest to the point where it echoed in her ears. She was pretty sure everyone in the waiting room could hear it. Her arm burned from the scratch running from her wrist to her elbow, but she didn't care. It was worth it.

The cat meowed loudly and Skye looked down at him. "Quiet." she muttered, petting him rather roughly. The cat made another strained noise causing Skye to roll her eyes. "It's only going to be a few minutes. You can handle it."

Was she seriously having a conversation with a cat?

"Skye?"

Her head shot up at the sound of her name being called. She stood quickly almost knocking the cat on the floor. Luckily, she regained her hold on the animal and cradled it in her arms. "Yes?"

The pretty receptionist smiled, eyeing her up and down. If Skye's heart wasn't already focused on Jemma, she would have given her a shot. "Dr. Simmons will see you now."

"Thanks." Skye walked toward the door. The cat struggled in her arms and she fought to keep him in place. "Knock it off." she ordered through clenched teeth as she made her way toward the examination room.

Skye walked inside, taking a deep breath. She didn't know whether she should sit or stand. She decided to stand due to the fear of stumbling or tripping once Jemma entered the room and dropping the already irritated cat in her arms. Her eyes glanced around the room, checking out the various pictures and diplomas hanging on the walls. The sound of the door opening and closing caused her to turn quickly.

Jemma was staring down at a chart and Skye swallowed nervously. Never has any woman she's barely spoken to had this effect on her. She needed to get to know her. She wanted to ask her out to dinner and find out what she was doing for the rest of her life.

Skye found herself running her hand through her hair and straightening her appearance before Jemma finally looked up and locked eyes with her. The doctor smiled, brightly. "Oh, hello." she greeted. Her voice was like silk and Skye felt her knees get weak. She squinted slightly and tilted her head in question. "Skye, right? From the coffee shop?"

"Yes!" Skye exclaimed, clearing her throat to regain her composure. "I mean, yeah, that's me."

Jemma's smile spread wider as she stepped forward. The beating of Skye's heart increased as Jemma stood directly in front of her. She placed her chart down on the table and scratch the cat's head. It was the first time Skye had heard the animal do something other than meow or hiss.

She watched as Jemma scratched his head and cheeks. She was captivated by the adorable expression on her face. When Jemma raised her eyes to meet Skye's with an expectant expression, Skye blinked. Had Jemma just spoken to her and she missed it?

"I'm sorry?" Skye questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I said what's our little friends name?"

"OH! It's uh…" Her mind blanked. What the hell was this cat's name? The only thing she had ever called it was 'Get the hell away from my door'. "It's… Roshambo." What?

Jemma made a face. "Roshambo? Really?"

A sheepish expression crossed Skye's face and she released a nervous laugh. "Yeah.. It's a—family name." She closed her eyes. If there was a way to punch herself in the face so she would stop talking, she would do it.

Jemma chuckled again. "Alright." She turned and picked up her chart, patting the table. "Just put him down right here and I'll take a look."

Skye obliged.

Once the cat was out of her arms, it relaxed and laid down on the table, licking his paw. She glared at the little beast remembering the trouble he gave her when she grabbed him from the hallway. The huge scratch he left on her arm before she grabbed him by the fat of the neck and ran out of the apartment building. If her neighbor, Mr. Coulson, saw her taking off with his cat, he probably would have called the cops.

Jemma scratched his head and underneath her chin. Skye found herself watching her again, wondering what it would feel like to have Jemma's fingers running through her hair and down her jawline.

"So, how long have you been a vet?" Skye asked, doing her best to distract her own mind.

"Five years." Jemma responded, her focus on the little creature in front of her.

"Wow. That's awesome." Skye stepped closer, pressing her hands into the table. "You love it?"

"I do."

"Does it take up a lot of your time?"

Jemma shrugged, looking in his ears. "Not really."

"So, you have time to, uh, go out and stuff?"

Jemma turned her head slightly, furrowing her brow. "Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

Skye opened her mouth several times before shrugging and blowing out a breath. "No reason. Just making conversation."

"Alright." Jemma replied, dragging out the word with an amused expression. She continued to examine the feline then straightened. "What exactly is wrong with.. Roshambo?"

"He, uh…" Skye stammered, swallowing back the nervous lump. Jemma raised an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly. "Well, he's been— Ah screw it."

Jemma looked confused. "Beg your pardon?"

Skye took in a deep breath. "Okay, honestly, he's not even my cat." she confessed. "I took him from my neighbor and brought him here so I could see you."

Jemma raised her brow, crossing her arms against her chest. "You stole your neighbors cat so you could come see me?"

Skye bit her lip and nodded.

"And, why exactly did you do that?"

"Well, because—" She exhaled heavily. "I look forward to you coming in every day so I can talk to you and—well, I've been trying to figure out a way to ask you out, but you are always in such a rush so I thought maybe—"

"If you stole your neighbors cat it would be easier to keep me in one place?"

Skye felt the heat rise up her neck and fill her cheeks. "Well, when you say it like that it just sounds wrong."

Jemma chuckled, raising her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I've never had anyone steal a cat to get my attention before." She pressed her lips together and nodded. "I'm flattered."

Skye placed her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and shrugged. "Flattered enough to maybe go have a drink with me tomorrow night?"

Jemma's teeth grazed her bottom lip as she contemplated her answer. She turned to her chart and scribbled something down. The sound of the rip of paper echoed through the thick silence. She extended the paper toward Skye and smiled shyly. "Call me."

"Really?" Skye responded, the enthusiasm lacing her voice. She reached out and took the paper from Jemma. Her eyes focusing on the perfectly written numbers. She raised her eyes to meet Jemma's again. "Great. Yeah, I'll, uh, call you tonight."

"I look forward to it."

Skye's gaze remained on Jemma as she made her way toward the door. She placed her hand on the knob, glancing back at the doctor once again. She tried to fight the goofy grin that was spreading across her face, but she couldn't control it. She turned away, opening the door.

"Uh, Skye?"

She turned quickly at the sound Jemma calling her name. "Yes?"

Jemma smirked, pointing at the feline who was intently licking his paw. "You forgot something."

"Oh, right!" Skye flushed with embarrassment as she rushed over to the table and picked up the cat. "Bye."

"Bye." Jemma chuckled as Skye made a quick exit. The doctor shook her head and couldn't stop the smile that laid claim to her lips….