"So," Skye draws the word out, letting it fill the room. "How smart are you guys, I mean, really?"
She, Fitz and Simmons are all working in the lab—she's been waiting on an upgrade and the question had been bouncing around in the back of her mind ever since they'd visited S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. It seems like as good a time as any to satisfy her curiosity.
"I mean, I know you guys are, like, child prodigies…but how smart is that…you know, really?" she tries to clarify awkwardly.
Simmons is the first to look up from her microscope to address her. "Well, Skye—It's all relative, really. I mean who can say, what with all the different types of intelligences that they've quantified."
Realizing that Simmons had rooted out her insecurity immediately but still wanting an answer she responds, "I know but what's your actual IQ?"
Simmons looks a bit flustered now, her face scrunching up as she says, "Well, it depends on the test, really. There's the Wechsler, Stanford-Binet, Woodcock-Johnson, Kaufman… They all test for different things and so the scores come out quite differently. Who can say which is right, really?" Her tone is cheerful but somehow also pleads for Skye to drop it.
"Woodcock-Johnson? Are you kidding me right now?" Skye asks, trying to stifle her chuckles and earning a long-suffering sigh from Simmons.
"The Wechsler is probably the most accurate," Fitz chimes in, peeking around his display to join in the conversation. "But the Kaufman usually results in the lowest scores."
"Oh, Fitz," Simmons says disappointedly. "Just because you scored higher—"
"Hey, the research is clear, Simmons," he argues, cutting her off.
"Uh, guys?" Skye interrupts. "So, can you give me numbers, here? I mean, they have to be pretty close between tests, right?"
Simmons says, "Not necessarily." Fitz overlaps with, "Yes."
Skye sees a look pass between them that she doesn't quite understand.
Simmons' brows draw down angrily and Fitz's eyes go wide and he adds, "Well, not always…that close." He looks away awkwardly and Skye knows something is off.
"What?" she asks, looking from one to the other.
Fitz and Simmons both go back to what they were working on without further comment.
"Come on, guys! This is not that big of a deal!" Then it hits her—her way in. "You're not worried about hurting the non-genius' feelings, are you?"
Overlapping cries of, "No!" "Of course, not!"
Skye smirks. Maybe she's not a genius but she knows how to work it.
"So…" she prompts, with a hurry-up gesture.
"Well…um...one seventy?" Simmons blurts, her pitch rising sharply making it seem like a question and her face scrunching up in embarrassment.
"Yeah, maybe on the Stanford-Binet," Fitz mutters, looking unhappy. Then noticing Skye looking at him pointedly, he accusingly adds, "What? She would definitely score higher on—well, any other one, really."
Simmons glares daggers at him until he hides behind his monitor again.
"Aww, are you guys trying to sound dumber for little-old me?" She grins from one to the other. "Come on, I can take it. So, what's your score, Monkeyboy?"
Fitz scoffs at the name and simply says, "Two hundred." His level gaze seems to dare her to try making fun of that.
Simmons immediately scoffs, shaking her head. "On the Woodcock-Johnson? You didn't get that on the Kaufman."
Fitz shoots her his own glare and says, "Fine, let's compare apples to apples, Simmons. What did you get on the Kaufman?"
"Seriously?" Skye says in wonderment. "Have you guys taken all those tests? Is that Kaufman-one the hardest?"
"It just sort of happens when you're a child prodigy," Simmons explains with a shrug. "They aren't really harder or easier, though they do score much differently and a higher score is less likely on the Kaufman than, say, the Woodcock-Johnson. I got…a one ninety on the Kaufman." She looks embarrassed again, her cheeks tinged with pink.
Fitz looks shocked with his eyes wide and mouth slack.
Skye is grinning. "Okay, come on Fitz—spill."
"One eighty-five," he says shortly before ducking behind his display.
Skye covers her mouth to hold in her laughter. "Oh, don't sulk just because Simmons is smarter than you, Fitz."
"Ugh, I told you, Skye, it's a very relative thing." Simmons defends. "Those tests are all checking for different things. The disciplines highlighted in the Kaufman test may just be more in my proverbial wheelhouse. Fitz and I are really quite on the same level." Simmons cranes her neck to give Fitz a reassuring smile.
Skye sees Fitz glare at her around his monitor. "Sorry, Fitz. I was just kidding." His expression softens as he tips his head subtly in her direction.
"So," Skye draws it out again. "What about me? Where do you think I fall in the IQ zone?"
Both Fitz and Simmons wear matching looks of dread.
"That bad, eh?" Skye asks, starting to wonder if she really wants to know.
Overlapping chatter of, "Not at all!" "Of course, not!" "You must be, at least, one or two standard deviations above normal." "At least!"
Skye waves her hands above her head. "Okay, hang on. What's a standard deviation?"
Simmons sighs, realizing that Skye's tenaciousness won't be avoided. "So, one hundred is average…" Skye mouths average and one hundred but Simmons ignores her and plows on, "and a standard deviation is a unit of measure consisting of fifteen IQ points above or below that."
When Skye's mouth drops open, Simmons hurriedly adds, "The reason intelligence is so difficult to measure is that it really isn't a test of knowledge or skill—you could know very little factual information and still score very highly on an IQ test. It's really more a test of potential. The potential you have for gaining knowledge and skill."
"So what you're saying…" Skye responds slowly, "…is that I have very limited potential."
"No!" Simmons squeaks, but Skye is already laughing.
"I know I'm not exactly MENSA material, Simmons. I'm just teasing you."
"Two standard deviations above normal is actually very intelligent," Simmons adds, hurriedly."Ninety-five percent of the population falls within the seventy to one hundred-thirty range."
"And I'm assuming that you guys are in the top one percent?" Skye adds, eyebrows raised in question.
"The top point-five percent, really," Fitz adds cheerfully.
"Well," she draws out, raising herself out of her chair, "I guess I'll go and mix with my own kind for awhile—the ninety-nine point-five percent." Turning back at the lab door, she adds, "No, but, seriously, thanks for telling me how privileged I am to know you and all." She smiles brilliantly and exits, leaving them staring after her.
"Well, that probably could have gone better," Simmons says with a sigh. "I tried to warn you that we were walking into dangerous territory. Remember that time with Agent Wilson?"
"I don't think it went that badly," he answers. "Och, Agent Wilson, I haven't thought about him for ages, that was unpleasant. And I heard you loud and clear, Simmons, but you know there was no way she was letting that go—like a dog with a bone, that one."
"I know but try to be a bit more humble, Fitz. I swear, your one-upmanship is going to get you into trouble one day."
He scoffs. "My one-upmanship?" He gives her a canny look and continues, "Now I think of it, Simmons, I think we should re-take the Kaufman." With a hopeful gleam in his eyes, he adds, "We could do it together, it'll be fun."
"Oh, Fitz."