It might be your wound, but they're my sutures

by isthismistersmolderholder

Superhero AU kinda. Jemma Simmons works for the Avengers as a Scientist, and happens to be a magnet for a particular criminal who can't seem to leave her alone. It's really very frustrating.

The first time she comes across Quake, she's sitting in her nice safe lab trying to write down the results of her latest findings in a way that even Thor will understand while The Avengers have some sort of showdown with the latest big bad. Said big bad comes smashing through the glass wall of the lab, falls on the glass, and groans out a, "I'm gonna feel that tomorrow." Before pulling herself back up, shards sticking to her black suit, throwing her arms out on either side of her, palms up, and the ceiling starts to shake.

"Oh, not in the lab," She can't help herself from sighing, because this will be the eighth time that the lab is destroyed in a fight and it's just rude, she's not even in the fight. Quake's head turns to her, and she looks...well, even through the black mask, it's obvious she's amused.

"Oh, gee, sorry," She chuckles, "Wouldn't want to get in your way fighting for my life or anything." Her voice is huskier than Jemma had expected, but that's not the thing that makes her stare, bewildered. It's that she seems to be having a great time. But even so, she stops vibrating the roof and stares through the hole she left through the walls. All three of them. That's at least a full day of repairs, Jemma thinks despairingly.

"I'm also standing in here, If you haven't noticed. The roof might not hurt you but it'll certainly compromise me." Jemma doesn't know why she's talking back to the bad guy. That's like a huge no no, number one on the list of Things That Get You Killed.

Quake grins slowly. "Alright, Bambi. Do you know where the nearest stairwell is? I gotta get back up there in the action. Can't let Mockingbird do all the work, bad sportsmanship and all."

She shouldn't tell her. She should figure out a way to aprehend her. There are plenty of paralytic agents in this lab, she'd only have to find a way to administer one- "Turn left and keep going until you see the kitchen, there's one behind the fridge." Why it was behind the fridge was a mystery to her, Stark was a little odd in her opinion.

The criminal before her nods, taking her instruction immediately.

Jemma sinks into her chair, horrified. She just aided a criminal. She just helped her go back and hurt her teammates. Why would she do that?!

"I'm going to be fired," She mutters hopelessly.

...

Two days and no such firing later, everything has blown over. They didn't check the security tapes, they don't know what she did, or well, what she didn't do technically, and everyone is fine. Except for Natasha, who sustained a gash through her stomach. She's relieved and a little less guilty when she finds out that was Mockingbird's work, not Quake's. It's not her fault. They got away again, as they seem to always do somehow, so Steve's been bent over his workbook trying to devise a way to improve on their tactics for hours, and Nat is seething. Oh, she's not saying anything, but her eyes are full of fire and she's been training harder than Jemma's seen her train in the months Jemma has been here. Usually she's able to go in, and come out with the person detained, no sweat. Or sometimes dead. Jemma tends to hope for the former.

So it's understandable that Jemma's mind is full of ways that she could help soothe the rest of the team when she enters her bedroom. And it's understandable that she doesn't check her room. She heads straight for the shower, enjoying the temporary reprieve from the tension that fills the tower.

When she's towelling her hair dry, she sees it. It's a daisy, and a note. A Daisy. Her first thought is that it could be covered in a toxin, and she shouldn't touch it. So she does the logical thing and runs, still towel clad, to find the nearest member of her team. She slams into Bruce as she turns the corner and hopes to god the startle doesn't make him loose control, but he just looks down at her, perplexed.

"Are you alright, Jemma?" He asks, eyebrows scrunching together. She realizes how silly she must look, but she just shakes her head.

"I think someone's broken into the tower," She breathes, "They left something for me in my room, and I thought-Well, it's a flower, and flowers can carry all kinds of-"

His hands leave his pockets, and his eyebrows furrow in concern as he starts walking briskly in the direction she came from. "No one should have been able to get in," He tells her, though there's no doubt of her in his voice, just fact. "But if they have, we'll take every precaution we can." He doesn't touch her shoulder comfortingly like Clint might have, though she's not sure if thats due to the lack of clothing or just generally that he's not a tactile person. She's noticed the only person who can touch him is Natasha. Tony still does, but Bruce keeps his cool, moving away in the mildest form of irritation possible. She knows it's not because he doesn't like Tony or anything, in fact they seem to be in all meanings of the words, best friends. She admires Bruce, not only for that but for his academic achievements. He used to be her idol, before Coulson dropped her off at the tower. In the beginning, she'd been angry because he'd seperated her from Fitz, something about them being codependent. Nonsense.

He sees the daisy and the paper on her bed, and she thinks she can see a hidden smirk in his face, but he's good at that, hiding his emotions. "Are you sure this isn't from someone in the tower?" He asks, good naturedly. "Perhaps Darcy's new intern?"

"Yes," She pushes, "It's not. Nobody who knows me would just go into my room, it's bad manners."

He picks up the flower, and absolutely nothing happens. He takes a sniff, and then considers, before holding it out to Jemma. "It's fine, the big guy would have come out if something was wrong." She has half a mind to tell him off for that alone, she was not sleeping in with Darcy again if he hulked out in here(There was only so much music and netflix Jemma could sit through while still getting a good nights sleep), and if he'd told her that's how he'd test it she'd have just gone to Steve.

He reads the note, and frowns. Hard. It's a hard frown. That's not a good sign. It can't be. He hands it to her without a word, but there's a disapproving look on his face.

Hey there Bambi,

I would have got you roses. But the place I went didn't have them. Besides, the Daisy made me laugh. Thanks a bunch for the other day or whatever, I'll be sure to return the favor.

I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon.

Quake.

"Oh." She breathes, and then looks back up at Bruce in a panic. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she winces. "Well...You see, I, er, She asked me where the staircase was and I..."

His face softens then, and he looks...relieved? "She would have found her way back to us anyway if you hadn't. Probably with a lot more destruction for us to clean up. You did the right thing." He affirms, "It's probably not best for you to interact with her anymore, though."

She agrees full heartedly, smile only fading when he adds on,

"We'll need to inform the team that she left this for you, though."

...

It's like being grounded. Except she's an adult and can make her own decisions and just because she only ever leaves the tower maybe once a week doesn't mean she likes having the option of leaving the tower taken away altogether. It's infuriating. She's no child, she has two PhDs and is a level six agent, she's earned the right to do what she wants. And yet.

"It's only until they're apprehended," Pepper tries to soothe her, "I know it seems drastic but you haven't even passed your field test,"

"I have a night night gun, and fairly good aim." Jemma retorts, "Isn't that all I need?"

Pepper looks away, as though she's trying not to say something. Probably along the lines of 'You're defenseless and weak'. That's basically what Thor said. Only, he'd said 'But Lady Jemma, you cannot weild a weapon and your body is too weak for battle with such an opponent,' And while he meant well, Jemma had half a mind to beg Natasha to teach her how to fight just so she'd never hear those words again.

"It's fine." She tells the orange haired woman, "I understand, just...I think I'd like to be alone for a bit."

Pepper kisses her forehead before getting up, and leaving her.

It takes all of twenty minutes for the Avengers Assemble alert to go off, and she's kind of happy about it. She's annoyed at her whole team right now, she doesn't want to speak to them. Well, maybe Jane and Darcy, but they're out for ice cream. They'd invited her of course, to which Tony had growled, "No fucking way." and yet again, she'd felt like a child. She liked her team of course, maybe even had grown to love them, but Tony and Pepper's parent complex was making her weary. Not because she hated it or anything, just because...Well, approval was never something that came easy from her parents, so at the end of a day full of hard work and scientific breakthroughs, where her parents would zone out on the phone and sometimes even ask her to stop talking about it, Tony and Pepper would encourage her. They would look at her and she could just see it there, that pride, and interest. It felt wrong to feel that way about them when she did have parents. Parents who loved her very much.

She's rolled up in her blankets like a burrito when her door swings open and then shut, and someone throws themself onto her bed. She assumes Darcy is back, she's the only one Jemma lets get away with that kind of thing. Last time Clint came in through the ducts while she was changing and he certainly learned his lesson, having to walk around with a bruise in the shape of the imprint of her laptop across his face. She hadn't actually meant to hurt her, but she hadn't expected him and she had it in her lap. She still looked at it smugly for the rest of the week though, and raised an eyebrow at him at the dinner table later on, pleased with herself when he whined about it to the others.

"This bed is like a cloud, how do you sleep on it?"

She jerks up, effectively falling off the bed as she tangles in the blankets, staring up at the ceiling in shock. She knows that voice. The owner of that voice somehow convinced her to do a bad thing.

"Quake?"

Her head pops over the side of the bed, mask still on and covering her eyes, but her lips are twisted up. "Miss me?" Her hair is falling over her shoulder as she leans over Jemma, long enough that a wisp of it brushes her cheek. It looks soft, she muses, before her brain starts functioning again and reminds her that she's not allowed to think things like that about the enemy.

"No! Why would I miss you? You attacked my team!"

"Okay yeah. But I wasn't going to hurt anyone, I was bored." Quake shrugs, "Besides, I'm sure they had fun too." More of her hair is falling down over Jemma's face, and she scrunches her face when it tickles her nose. She's so...casual. About a fight that could have ended lives.

"Natasha's hurt."

There's a sharp intake of breath, and Quake frowns, or at least Jemma thinks she does, it's hard to tell with the mask. "Hurt how? Is she okay?"

"It's just a cut, if I'm honest. But it's still not acceptable." She scolds crossly, glaring up at the other girl, which she instantly regrets, because now she's looking at her eyes and they're beautiful of course, Jemma just has the worst luck. They're like dark chocolate, and like dark chocolate, she really shouldn't let it break into her house and lie across her bed, all tempting and-

"Bob-Mockingbird must have done that. I didn't touch her. I wouldn't." Quake says, effectively saving Jemma from pursuing that very off limits train of thought, and for a second she sounds regretful and sad at the same time, and the tone makes Jemma's eyes widen. It's just something about the I wouldn't that perplexes her.

"You know her, don't you?"

"No. No, I don't."

She's a smooth liar, not a tell that Jemma can see at all. "Were you in the red room with her? Your movements and sloppiness suggest you weren't, but...You were able to break into the tower, so,"

"I'm a hacker. I hacked my way into the tower. Besides, I'm ten years younger than her." Quake explains, though her eyes are looking anywhere but at Jemma now, like she really doesn't want to have this conversation.

"Then how? How do you know her?"

Quake's eyes meet hers again, and there's a quiet rage burning behind her eyes that feels oddly like a warning. "Just leave it, okay? I don't know her."

She wants to keep asking. Jemma Simmons does not like it when she doesn't know things, especially when she's sure she's onto something, but Quake is not an experiment. She's not sure how much more she can bend her before she breaks. A voice that sounds strangely like Fitz mutters, 'You're moving towards mad scientist again.' "I...fine. Now can I ask what you're doing here?"

The criminal grins like the cat who just at the canary. "Wanted to see your cute face, Bambi. Sides, I noticed they put you on lockdown. How old are you, twelve?" She scowls at the end, rolling her eyes. "They're just like SHIELD, thinking the only way to protect someone is to lock them away."

There's something in the way she says it that makes Jemma think that maybe she's talking from personal experience. She doesn't care. Really. She doesn't. "Did they do that to you? Lock you away?" She shouldn't. But then she's always been too curious for her own good.

Quake pauses, tucking her dangling hair behind her ear, reminding Jemma that she's still on the floor. "They did a lot of things to me." She says finally, and then rubs the back of her neck. "Moving on. You. I wanna know about you."

"You could just hack SHIELD for that information, you're clearly good enough if you hacked the tower."

"I could, but then I'd get a boring file that told me nothing about you . Not the important stuff, anyway."

"I'm not even supposed to be interacting with you."

"Then why are you?"

"I...Fine. I won't." She falls silent and turns away from the other girl. She hears the shift of her mattress and then footsteps coming around the side of the bed as Skye comes to stand in front of her again.

"So you're not talking to me now?" She laughs, her stupid grin never leaving her face.

"No." Jemma mutters stubbornly.

"You just did." Skye points out, triumphant. "Come on, talk to me. Tell me about your life's wish of being a famous fish painter. C'mon, I wanna know about you."

"I don't want to be a famous fish painter." Jemma's nose wrinkles at the thought.

"See, just learned something new. More, now." Quake crosses her legs on the bed, looking annoyingly like an excited kid, rather than the grown, very dangerous woman that she is. Jemma sighs, and climbs onto the bed to sit in front of her.

"This is very, very innapropriate," She grumbles, and launches into a detailed description of her childhood bedroom. Hopefully it'll scare Quake off, considering there were quite a few dissections done in that room and if she can just casually happen to mention that...Crisis averted.

...

The others don't come back for two hours, and when they do, Quake's already been gone for twenty minutes, though she only seemed to be more interested the more Jemma spoke, asking questions and nodding along, at one point letting out a smooth chuckle. She hopes she doesn't sound too guilty when she greets them at the door, the warm buzz that she gets from being around the criminal still filling her up.

Thor puts his hammer down to place a hand on her shoulder, as he does regularly after missions after one particular occasion when they'd thought he was dead, and she'd fallen apart trying to bring him back. She wasn't that kind of doctor, damn it. It's just a little reminder that he's there, he's fine, she didn't fail. She thinks Thor is smarter than he lets on, and perhaps he is the only member of the team who can see into her soul and see the fear of not quite being good enough and not being able to save everyone that's constantly inside her.

"Lady Jemma, you look like you no longer wish us ill," He says, pleased, "Has the time away from us helped you evaluate your thoughts?"

She can't help but smile at him, and nod, because even though he sounds a little condescending, she knows he's really not meaning it the way it sounds. He's just hoping she's thinking about it from their point of view, and she's not about to say, 'no, actually, I spent an hour and forty minutes telling my life story to probably a murderer'. Not that any murders were on Quake's Shield data base, but something in the way she held herself indicated a dark past. It was a lot like the way Nat held herself.

"Yes, and while I still disagree, I understand why you felt the need to protect me. But I do need my space and the ability to go outside, I'll go stir crazy without it."

"Then I'll be escorting you." Natasha says sharply, and Jemma wonders if Nat knows that Quake is someone who has met her. She doubts it, because that's the kind of thing Natasha would have reported immediately. She's not selfish like Jemma can be, she knows that even if it means revealing something from her past, which she does so rarely, if she has intel, it must be shared.

"Alright." Jemma nods, and Clint ruffles her hair on the way past, much to her annoyance. Smirking at her when she tries to slap his hand away.

Tony looks a little worse for wear, and it finally occurs to her to ask what their assembly was for, or rather, what Skye's distraction was.

"What happened?" She asks, assessing the rest of the team. They mostly look just fine.

"Tony got into a fight with a bird." Clint snorts, and Jemma's immediate thought is Mockingbird, until she sees the amusement dancing in the eyes of the rest of the team, and a lack of anger on Natasha's face. Natasha's expression is usually a good indicator for how a mission has gone.

"He attacked a tree, it fell on him-Long story short there was a bird's nest in the tree. The Mama didn't take too kindly to her home being destroyed." Darcy recapped, seemingly coming out of nowhere, and Jemma was wondering how she knew that when they'd only just arrived, when she saw the commlink in her ear. Of course, Darcy liked live Avengers battles more than video games. Sometimes she made herself popcorn while listening in, throwing in an amusing pun or quip every now and then to lift team spirit.

"Ah. I see."

Tony glares at them. "I thought I heard something," He argues, and adds on, "Asswipes."

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the humiliation you just took a dive in," Clint taunts him from where he's settled at the counter, making himself a sandwich.

"That's rich coming from you, Merida,"

"Hope nobody leaves a shitload of angry pigeons in your room tonight, man that would suck,"

"You threatening me, Katniss Neverclean?"

"Excuse you, I showered two days ago."

"That is disgusting," Steve breaks in, "Tony, leave Clint alone. Clint...Go take a shower."

"Yessir," Clint grins, happy that he seems to have won this time.

Jemma meets Darcy's eyes across the room and the two share an amused grin.

...

A week passes without incident, and Jemma decides that Quake had probably just been assessing what she was up against. She's satisfied with that, actually, because it means there's a lot less risk of her getting involved in things that she really shouldn't. It also means guilt-free talks with the rest of the team. But still, all of this has planted a very strong idea in her head and so she tries as inconspicuosly as she can to sneak into the back of the sparring floor. Steve is there, as usual, beating at the punching bag, shoulders hunched. She thinks he takes things too personally, and accepts any faiure as his own fault far too easily as well.

She watches him, concerned, for what seems to be about twenty minutes, before Nat and Clint come in, talking quietly. Clint hasn't got his bow, so it's clear they'll be sparring today, and Jemma grins, trying to think of a way to ask to join them that doesn't scream 'I'm doing bad things'. Watching the two of them spar is like watching a very intricate, beautiful dance. Steve barely looks up, just enough to acknowledge them with a nod and turn right back to what he was doing. Definitely concerning. For a moment, Jemma considers getting up and talking to him- He clearly needs to talk to someone about this, and for some reason he seems to think none of them want to hear about it, but her attention is grabbed back by Clint.

"Hey short stop," He calls, and she waves to him, watching as Nat's eyebrows furrow in her direction. She doesn't look happy to see Jemma, but then again the only time Jemma's ever seen her crack even the slightest smile is whenever Tony does something stupid and hurts himself. Which, yes, definitely a bit of a sadistic streak, but one would expect that from someone with Natasha's background, or as much of it that Jemma knew about. And if she was honest, sometimes Tony's idiocy made her grin too.

"No." Nat says, before she can even get a word out. The word is stiff compared to her body language, but then again she has a constant grace in her movements that never quite disappears.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask for," Jemma pouts, resisting the urge to stamp her foot as well. She's an adult, and a very mature one at that, she's not about to act like a spoilt child, even if she wants to. One sparring session, that's all she needed to kickstart the team into 'training Jemma' mode, but if she couldn't even get that...

"I know exactly what you were going to ask," Nat scowls, going on to tape her hands, not even bothering to meet the smaller girl's eyes. "And it's not happening, Jemma. So sit down and watch, or go upstairs."

Jemma sinks onto the bench, looking very much like a sulking teenager. Clint just gives her a wide grin and murmurs,

"Can't blame you for trying, though."

It seems like Natasha can blame her though, because she doesn't so much as look in Jemma's direction for the whole session, and Jemma finds herself wincing at how angrily Nat takes Clint down in the first round. She's annoyed, then, Jemma sighs to herself. Of course she is. Heaven forbid Jemma be able to defend herself in the event of an attack. She can't live a sheltered life forever, this is the Avenger's tower for heaven's sake.

...

What she's noticed about Thor, is that he's taken a very strong liking to the two weakest members of this little group. Meaning herself and Darcy. Also meaning herself and Darcy are required to accompany him to movies and midgardian events (Who knew Thor would get so into cycling?) and worst of all, to explain Twilight to him.

"See, she's in love with both of them," Darcy gestures between the two actors on screen, "But the real choice is Jacob. Because he's a werewolf. Not in this one yet, but the next one. I mean, that's a million times cooler than sparkling, right Jem?" Darcy looks to her for agreement and she just nods and hums, though really she thinks Bella should have just ended up with either Alice or Rosalie. Maybe even Jessica, if she weren't so annoying. They're much less complicated and also, much prettier. But that's just her opinion. One she won't be voicing. She's fairly sure Thor doesn't even know what a lesbian is, she definitely doesn't want to be the one to have that discussion with him.

"Why does she not just be on her own?" Thor asks, confused. "Lady Sif would be appalled by this moving picture."

"Lady Sif is a badass," Darcy nods, "But Bella's kind of dependant on men. Don't ask me why, I have no idea."

Jemma slides into analytic mode, furrowing her brows. "It could possibly be because of the lack of male figures in her life, although my Dad was off on exhibitions very frequently-" Darcy's hand lands on her shoulder, and her wide, horrified eyes meet Jemma's.

"Please, no." She says, tone serious, "I hate this movie. I hate it. Do not ruin this for me by making me feel bad for her."

Jemma rolls her eyes at Darcy's antics, but Darcy continues to look at her, straight faced.

Thor has paused though, looking consideringly at Darcy. "If you were not interested, why are we viewing this?"

Darcy nods, shooting a vibrant red lipped smile at Thor. "Sometimes I mute it, and just make up the words myself. But you haven't seen the movie, so you watch it, and then next time, we mute it. Make up our own words."

"Make words?" Thor frowns, and Darcy sighs.

"Okay, Jemma do it with me," She pinches Jemma's arm for good measure and Jemma chuckles, nodding. "You're gonna love this thunder boy," She hits rewind until she gets to the scene where the cullens enter the cafeteria, and then hits mute.

"Oh, look at all those deathly pale people," Darcy talks over Bella asking who they are, "I just must make them sign up for my book club!"

That's Jemma's cue to talk over Jessica's explanations, and she's really bad at this. And yet somehow, she always gets roped into doing it. The only explanation is that Darcy takes some sort of enjoyment out of her being absolutely hopeless, which really isn't that farfetched.

"They don't go to book club, they hate books," Jemma blurts, "Books are their weakness, like garlic for a vampire, except...books." She finishes lamely as Darcy erupts into a cackle.

"See?" Darcy pokes at Thor, "It's really fun. You try,"

Thor beams, shaking his head in amusement. "Your Midgardian games are strange," He tells her, "But If you say It is fun then I shall do it," He turns to the screen, staring with deep concentration, almost as though he's trying to read their lips, which really isn't the purpose of the game at all.

"Just say anything at all, but make sure you say it when one of the characters on screen is talking," Darcy encourages, giving him a little kick with the side of her boot. He doesn't even notice of course, Darcy's foot may as well have bounced off of his bicep. He finally breaks into speech a moment later, as Edward is leaning away from Bella and looking grossed out in the science class scene.

"This maiden, she smells of the caves of Jottenheim!" He laughs, turning to the two girls, "Have I succeeded?" He asks, looking so excited to have joined in that neither have the heart to tell him that they have no idea what he's talking about, or that neither of the characters were speaking during that scene. They humour him, as he continues to talk over the film, even after they switch the sound back on, because he's just having so much fun. It's even a little bit disappointing when Jane appears for lunch (She wouldn't have come up on her own, but Darcy set three alarm clocks and hid them all in the lab, so she has no choice but to come unless she wants to work through the blaring noise.) and Thor leaps up to greet her, offering to make her some pancakes and leaving the other two to giggle about it in his wake.

...

She's only coming inside to get her bag, as she's about to go out with Tony and Pepper for Dinner. It's just that, when she opens the door, something jumps out at her and Jemma's really not that much of a wimp but Oh Lord

"Oh my god," Quake is laughing, hands on her stomach, on the floor, and Jemma only just stops herself from giving her a frustrated kick. "You screamed like a girl,"

"I am a girl," Jemma scowls, grabbing her bag off the hook on the back of the door and giving Quake a smack with it. The other girl just grins.

"Trust me, I've noticed," Quake says, finally pushing herself to her feet, but she's still got an infuriating grin on her face. "So, how you been?" She draws the words out, rocking on her feet, and again Jemma's struck with the fact that she's so immature for someone so dangerous.

"Fine, until you decided to scare the living daylight out of me," She grumbles, glancing back out the door to be sure that nobody had come running when she let out her loud, very embarassing squeak, but it didn't seem as though anyone was coming. Still, she stepped fully into the room and shut the door behind her. She didn't want to be caught harboring a criminal. Even one this annoying.

"You're glad I'm here though," Quake points out, and irritatingly enough, she's right.

"You're going to get me in so much trouble," Jemma sighs.

"That's the idea,"

"I'm not surprised, most of your ideas seem to be awful." She snaps at the dark haired girl, who in response puts on a mock hurt expression, crossing her arms.

"Excuse me, I'm very good at ideas. I just had another one. Let's get ice cream."

Jemma squints at Quake, trying to decipher her expression, but she looks completely honest. and completely excited, as well. Her eyebrows are raised, lips pulled wide in a smile and hopefullness swimming in her eyes that altogether makes Jemma feel very much like saying yes, and very guilty that she won't.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Quake asks, smile faltering.

"Because I'm going out for dinner with Tony and Pepper," She really shouldn't have to have a reason, she should just be able to say no, but Quake is persistant. "And besides, you're not healthy company to keep."

"So it's not that you don't want to." Quake picked, choosing to ignore the entire second half of what Jemma said and perking back up. "We could go tomorrow."

"Quake-"

"Pretty please? With like, a bajillion cherries on top?"

"No. I can't be part of your bad girl shenanigans."

"Ice cream is for bad girls now?"

"i-No, that's not- You know what I meant."

"So you're saying I'm a bad girl?" Quake wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Well, if you're into that then I can totally-"

"Don't be lewd," Jemma manages, despite the fact that her cheeks are on fire and she's now picturing them in some pretty compromising positions. This is really very not good.

"I think you want me to be," The other girl suggests, "I think you like it. I think you like me, actually."

"I don't. You're the opposite of what I should like." Jemma mutters, more to herself than Quake, who sits up.

"And yet." She teases, just as Jemma hears Tony calling her name. "So, tomorrow? 12? Anapoli. You know where that is right?" She confirms, and Jemma, despite everything, nods. "I'll see you then, Bambi."

...

"Where are you going?"

Jemma's heart takes a leap out of her chest and back, and she turns, wide eyed to face Natasha. "For a walk. I need to walk in the outside. Where the air is." Where the air is? What? Oh god, she's hopeless at this.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "Uh huh. There's plenty of air here."

"Yes but I want fresh air. For better breathing." Natasha's watching her with narrowed eyes, arms folded over her chest and hair tied back. Fresh from a work out and probably still high on adrenaline, she supposes, which makes her even more deadly.

"Open a window."

"I also like trees." Jemma winces, and Natasha nods slowly.

"I like trees too," Somehow her voice comes out mocking, while she still looks completely serious. "I'll come with you."

"Ah but I like trees more when I'm alone. I can really admire the tree with no distractions."

"I won't distract you."

"Not on purpose-"

"I'm starting to think this isn't about trees," Natasha muses, as though she didn't know that all along. "I'm also starting to think that maybe you want to do something you shouldn't be doing."

"Why would I want to do something I shouldn't? That's not me at all. I like following the rules and doing what's expected of me. It makes me feel nice." She's hoping that a little honesty will make her seem less like she's lying, and Natasha nods.

"I know." She tilts her head, "Alright."

Jemma breathes out a heavy sigh. "Lovely. I'll be on my way then."

"I'm still going with you. It's in the rules," Natasha says, and she thinks she sounds a little smug, despite how expressionless she is right now. Jemma deflates.

"I figured."

She thinks about Quake the entire time she's blabbering on about trees and nature and anything she can think of, despite the knowing look in Natasha's eyes as she talks. She wants to be with Quake right now, she wants to be eating ice cream and just barely making an effort to protest the whole thing, she wants to know if Quake was going to wear civillian clothes, she wants to know how Quake did her hair today, and the whole thing is ridiculous. Ridiculous and humiliating and she can't help but feel like Natasha knows what she was going to do even though there's no way she could.

She shouldn't care this much. This is definitely getting out of hand.

...

She's on the phone to Coulson when Quake shows up again, updating him on the status of the team and of her own progress as well. It's a taxing process, because she still doesn't understand why it is that they aren't allowed to know he's alive. It irritates her that these people care so much about him and he just lets them believe he's dead.

"Yes, sir, I think they're doing well. Clint seems to be doing better than Natasha, but it's difficult to tell. She's very private."

"She always has been," Phil sighs, and she bites her lip.

"Perhaps if you just told them-"

"You know I can't, Simmons."

"Who you talking to?"

Jemma jumps, holding a hand over the phone, initially assuming that she's been caught by Natasha, but one look at Quake and she finds herself just turning back to the phone, trying to ignore the little flutter in her belly at the sight of the other girl. "Honestly, do you have any concept of privacy? Or what locked means?" She asks over her shoulder, and she hears Quake snort behind her.

"Yes, of course I do,"

"Then why did you pick my lock?"

"I wanted to see you. You didn't come for ice cream."

"I told you I wouldn't!"

"Who's there, Agent Simmons?" Coulson asks calmly, and she can practically picture him on the other end, cool and collected even when he thinks he might have been found out.

"Not a member of the team," She manages, turning her eyes to look at Quake a little guiltily. "Just a...friend."

"We'll continue this later," Coulson says, and before she can say a word she hears dial tone. He's gone. She lets out a groan and glares half heartedly at Quake.

"You're mad. That's cool, I'd be mad too." Quake says casually, "But moving on, have you seen Big Hero 6 yet? because-"

"Why are you so desperate to spend time with me?!" The question just bursts from her lips, frustration leaking into her voice. She honestly wants to know, has wanted to know since this started, because nothing makes sense. What did she want from her? Did she even want anything at all or was she just messing with her? Jemma didn't like not knowing things. And this particular thing had been eating away at her since Quake left her the daisy.

"I..." Quake looks so caught out that Jemma instantly feels guilty. The taller girl is shifting and looking away, and Jemma realises just how mean she'd sounded, though she was just exasperated. She should have been more careful with her words. "I just think you're..." She's lost her words, and she twists her fingers together until she finds the right one, and then nods, "Fascinating. Just, there's something about you, Jemma..."

The biochemist stares at her for a moment. "How am I fascinating?" She asks, quietly.

"I don't know how to explain it- It's just, It's like," She squints in thought, "Like when I saw you in your lab for the first time, before I broke through the glass walls, you looked really into it, you had this look in your eyes-And then when you spoke to me, you just snarked back at me, even though for all you knew, I was really dangerous. I just want to know you. I want to understand how you can be so interesting, I guess." Then she pauses, and winks, "And you're like seven different levels of hot."

Jemma wrinkles her nose. "It was such a lovely sentiment until you said that. Honestly."

...

She's not sure how she let Quake talk her into this. In fact, she's not sure how she even knew that her team had stopped 'babysitting' her everywhere she went. She's nowhere close to sure of how Quake had managed to wiggle her way into her life, she's spends more time with Quake than she does in the lab lately. And yet, for some reason, she doesn't question the arm that's pulling her across the park, right in the direction of a dark alleyway. In fact, it's not until they're entering said dark, scary, probably full of very dangerous people alleyway, that she realises she should protest to this.

"Quake? I think this is a dead end." She refrains from saying, 'A dead end full of many, many potential hazards to their health'. Quake just turns to face her while still moving ahead, determined.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, and Jemma considers the question. Does she trust Quake? If she was in her right mind, the answer would be No, but there's just a part of her that insists that she's worth it. Quake frowns, skidding to a halt when Jemma doesn't speak, eyes wide and vulnerable. "You don't, do you?" It's a statement more than a question, and Jemma watches as she visibly deflates. The sight of it causes an awful churning in Jemma's stomach, and all she knows is that she has to fix this.

"I do, I was just in my own mind for a moment there," She explains quickly, and she searches with the hand of the same arm that Quake's wrapped her own arm around for her fingers, tangling her own in them when she finds them moments later. The dark haired girl is looking at her oddly now, but she doesn't have time to figure out what that's all about before she's turned back around, and is being tugged down the alleyway again. The only difference is that their hands are clamped together, and Quake has the grip of an arm wrestler, Jemma's trying so hard not to wince.

"Home, sweet Home." Quake drawls, but Jemma doesn't have time to ask her 'what does she mean, she's living in an alley? that's insane! And really very unsanitary' before with one final tug into the black end of the alley, light spills over her. The first thing she registers is that it's a room, how she got in there she's still got no clue. She looks behind her and sees a wall closing up behind them. Just, closing up, all on it's own.

"How-?"

"Magic," Quake chuckles, and Jemma scowls.

"There's no such thing. I'm sure that could have been explained in scientific terms."

"Or you could just admit that some things are a mystery and you'll never figure them out," There's a teasing note in Quake's voice, but she's not looking at Jemma, she's searching for something. Actually, someone, it seems, when Mockingbird strides out from a kitchenette area with a bowl of fruit salad. It takes her only a few seconds to respond, snatching her batons from the straps on her back and advancing on Jemma.

The noise the brit makes is not anywhere near the realm of dignified, and she's certain she's just been led to her death and she should have known better, just because a pretty, charming girl seems to take an interest in her, doesn't mean they've got good intentions. Except, Quake really did seem to.

"Back off. This is Jemma." Quake scowls, grabbing hold of one of the batons and vibrating it violently, causing Mockingbird to jerk back and rub her hand gently to relieve what Jemma assumes is pain. How strange. She wonders for a moment if she could ask Quake to do some experiments for her, maybe if she got some skin cells, some hairs as well, she could see if the vibrations run through her entire body or just her hands-

"Jemma Simmons, huh?"

She's not sure she likes the way Mockingbird is looking at her. Like she's a problem that she needs to fix. It's the way her teachers used to look at her, when she'd correct a mistake they made. A lovely blend of Irritation and offense that Jemma really didn't think was neccesary.

"Yes, that is me." Smart, Jemma. Sound Intelligent, for heaven's sake. "I'm a biochemist." Not exactly the best recovery, but still, Mockingbird slowly starts to smile, a conspiratorious one that makes Quake roll her eyes. She obviously already knows what Mockingbird is going to say.

"So am I," The blonde smirks. "So I'm not impressed." She gives Skye a hard look, and then turns on her heel and drops onto the battered couch in the centre of the room, picking up a book, content to ignore them. Jemma's parents would have loved Bobbi, and Jemma, if she were ten years younger, probably would have as well. There's a vibe about her that just screams that she was always one of the cool kids, and probably always would be.

"Don't worry about her," Quake whispers, "She's just mad because we have to move again soon. She really likes it here." Her hand is still in Jemma's, she realizes, and stupidly the only thought that pops into her mind is that she really hopes her hand isn't sweaty, but she can barely feel it at all, Quake's hand curled so tightly around her own that she's starting to lose feeling now. She knows she should tell Quake to loosen her grip, but she doesn't want to risk her letting go altogether.

"Why do you need to move?" She asks curiously, watching as Quake's eyes darken. It's odd, because she's never seen her look so...angry, before, but she can see it clear as day, a rage inside of Quake that she's only just controlling. As she looks away from the intensity on the taller girl face, she sees the blonde peering over the back of the couch now too, watching the exchange with interest.

"There's someone who's trying to find me." Quake finally says, and Mockingbird lets out a huff of air, nodding her head, as though that's the biggest understatement she's ever heard. For all Jemma knows, it might be.

"What kind of someone?"

"Someone who thinks I owe them something that I don't." She says sharply, finality in her voice. Jemma lets it drop, but she can't help her mind racing with possibilities. Why on earth would anyone be chasing a small time 'Villain', who picks fights with the avengers for fun and apparently also has a thing for scientists? And is this a deadly kind of person or just an angry kind of person? Because obviously the latter would be preferable.

"I'm going out," Mockingbird says suddenly, sliding her phone into her pocket and eying them both. "I'll see you later." She tells Quake sternly and then turns on Jemma, "Hopefully you'll have the brains to stay away, though."

Quake groans and presses her hand to her face as soon as the door is shut, put out. "I'm really sorry Jem, I don't know what her problem is with you,"

"It's alright. Not everyone is going to like me, It's a fact of life. Even though I am generally quite likeable." She hadn't meant to say the last part out loud, but if the laugh that erupts from the other girl's mouth is the result, she doesn't want to take it back at all. She likes the sound of her laugh, it's husky but light at the same time. She looks beautiful when she laughs, Jemma decides, and then promptly decides to lock that kind of thought away immediately. They're friends now, and she's chagrinned to admit that she doesn't want to ruin that.

"This is true," Quake agrees, untangling her hand from Jemma's so that she can grab the remote control for the TV. Jemma thinks it's best not to mention that she can't feel her hand at all thanks to the criminal's death grip, so she doesn't initially realise that Quake has pulled Jemma's arm around her shoulder so she can get comfortable while she channel surfs. When she does, it feels like there are butterflies flapping around in her belly and she has to make herself look away. They're just friends. Just friends who have a flirty relationship, that's all. She repeats this in her head all over again when Quake throws her legs across Jemma's lap and sags into her side, almost literally wrapping herself around the biochemist in a way that can't possibly be comfortable. And she repeats it yet again at the mouth of the alley, as Quake says goodbye to her, her hand resting on Jemma's arm in a way that shoots sparks through her bloodstream.

...

It starts with little things- Darcy says she's making coffee and does Jemma want a tea, and she says no, no thank you, until suddenly it's bigger things, like Thor inviting her to go for Shwarma with he and Jane, and she's turning that down, too. It doesn't stop there, either, she's suddenly backing away from any and almost all interaction with the others, her stomach churning anxiously whenever she so much as makes eye contact with them. And it's silly, it's so silly because it's not like they can see what she's doing just by looking at her.

Yet, it's not until she sees the looks she's getting each time that she asks herself what exactly she's doing. It feels a lot like self-sabotage, and she realises soon enough that it's not just the fact that she's seeing Quake that's worrying her. It's the fact that Quake is a woman, and she's not sure how they'll react to that, either. Her eyes linger on them when they're not looking, trying to picture a reaction, but it's so difficult when she can't bloody tell what they're thinking or how they feel about that kind of thing, and they're not stupid, if she starts subtly trying to test it they'll guess it straight away. So she continues to keep her distance.

It's not unusual for Steve to ask her to go for lunch or coffee, but the look on his face as he does so this time tell her this is going to be a very different experience, and her heart pounds as she nods despite her new ritual of refusal and grabs her jacket, feeling his eyes burning holes into her back as she does so, possibilities flying through her mind fearfully.

They stand in the line for the coffee shop in silence, and Jemma is seriously starting to get more than just antsy about this, before finally they reach the front and Steve orders for them, surprisingly rattling off her long order from memory. And then, while they wait, he turns to her and says, "You're drifting."

"Sorry?" Jemma blinks, and Steve looks a little bit uncertain of how to phrase whatever it is he's saying, before he finally says,

"Pulling away from us. I don't know why, but we're all concerned." He furrows his brows at her and resembles a puppy in a way that makes her uncomfortable. Jemma shifts, looks at the ground, then back up at Steve. She doesn't know how he would react to this suddenly very important information. Especially considering how old fashioned he was.

"I'm really not," She finally says, but she can't meet his eyes. The thing is, she really likes Steve. She respects him even more, and at the moment he respects her too. He tries harder than everyone else (Apart from Bruce for obvious reasons) to learn about the terms she uses, to focus on the words she's saying even if he can't make sense of them, to make her feel valued. She supposes that's why he's basically team Captain, he's so good at it. Too good to be also taking care of himself, she thinks not for the first time, but that's not the point right now. The point is that if this goes badly, not only will she lose the respect he has for her, but also the budding friendship between them.

"You are, Jemma." He crosses his arms and puts on his business face. "If there's something bothering you, or something that's happened, we want to know. I want to know."

She glances up at him, and then back down. He looks so genuinely concerned, it startles her. She keeps forgetting that they care about her, too. She's not sure why, she's never had an inferiority complex or anything, but it's just-These are all heroes. People worship them. She sees people wearing their merchandise all the time. How does she fit in to that? "I don't think you do, actually." She mumbles, though she should have known with his enhanced hearing he'd pick it up straight away. A sturdy hand lands on her shoulder and she looks up, biting her lip. He's practically burning holes in her, his gaze is that intense.

"If something is troubling you, then it's troubling all of us, Jem." He offers her a soft, almost self-deprecating smile, "That's how it works with us, all or nothing. There's no secrets, here. And you're one of us now."

She can't tell him everything. She can't tell him about Quake. But she can tell him the thing that's bothering her just as much, and then she supposes, if she's out, she's out. It'll make seeing Quake feel less like a betrayal as well, if she's not on the team. She knows she'll cry if he takes it badly though. She's already plotting the fastest route to the bathroom so that she can hide with some tissues.

"I..." She sucks in a deep breath, meets Steve's eyes, and straightens her back. "I like-"

"Jemma and Steve?"

Jemma jumps, turns to stare at the barista who looks very confused at how flustered Jemma suddenly is, all because she called out her coffee. Steve seems to realise that the scientist is not up for any immediate movement, because he moves forward to take the two cups, murmuring a gratuitous, "Thank you very much, Ma'am." that leaves the barista giggling.

Jemma's still not said anything or moved, and she can't fathom why, she's just, she was about to tell him, and Jemma certainly didn't believe in a higher power or any of that nonsense, but...What if it was divine intervention? It takes all of five seconds to throw away that notion. Ridiculous. It was just bad timing. She jolts into movement, and Steve falls into step beside her as they slide into the seats of a window booth.

"You were saying, Jemma?" Steve probes, holding her coffee out to her in what she thinks is an attempt at a distraction. She swallows again, figures she'll just have to go for it, she was almost through it before the barista called.

"I like women."

He looks confused for a moment, utterly puzzled, hands loosening on his cup as he tries to comprehend what she means. "You...like women?"

"Yes. Very much so." She nods, pursing her lips when he still doesn't seem to get it. "Romantically, Steve."

He jolts then, cheeks flushing red before nodding. "Oh. Alright." He looks down at her again, and she squints at him, trying to figure out what he's thinking. It's futile of course, she can't read minds and unless there's some form of alien tech out there that can, there's no chance. "Is this about Natasha then? Or Darcy? I'm sure they'd both be-"

"No, no," Her face is burning red now, "No. They're just friends, Steve, no. I just-I didn't think you'd take this so well," She admits, frowning.

"It's not my place to judge," Steve shrugs, "Bucky and I were close in a similar way." He shifts uncomfortably, glancing at her through the corner of his eyes as if he and Bucky are a completely different thing. As though he's waiting for her to tell him so. She lets a smile spill across her lips to reassure him.

"Oh, really?" She asks, feeling a little smug. She'd thought as much, before she met him, but then he was just such a golden boy that the thought flew out of her head. She wasn't sure exactly what it was that she picked up on, but it was just something in the films Coulson used to make her watch of the Howling Commandos, they looked at each other in a way none of the others did. Like they were each others light. But then in one of those same films, he looked at a photograph of Peggy in the same way, so she was unsure. Peggy Carter. Just the thought of her made Jemma happy. She's yet to ask Steve about her, because she doesn't want to bring up any negative memories, but it's difficult when Jemma may as well have 'Peggy Carter's N.1 Fan' tattooed on her face.

He clears his throat, a look in his eyes that Jemma has seen before. Distant, sad. "Yes. He meant the world to me."

"I'm sorry you lost him," She's not sure what possesses her to do it, because she knows Steve is a little stiff and private, but she reaches out and squeezes his hand. It's a lot bigger than hers, and somehow softer, too, though she supposes any callouses would have just healed due to the super soldier serum. He stares at their joined hands for a moment, before looking up at her, and hesitantly, he asks,

"Would you like to hear about him?" The look he's wearing suggests he's never felt comfortable talking about this before, or that he was worried she was going to turn him down. She kind of understands it now, after he's taken her to talk to her about his concern. She feels the same way about him, wants him to feel safe and happy and be secure. She can see why his own issues would come second to him.

"Yes, please. I'd love to."

...

"Who's that?"

Jemma's starting to think maybe Quake was a pickpocket before she became a, well, whatever she is now. She's definitely not classified as a villain in Jemma's mind. She'd come home to Quake sprawled out on her floor counting the lines on her hands because she didn't think ahead and bring a book or something to kill the time it took her to come home, and she let Quake stay. That should have been warning enough that things were spinning out of her control.

"Who?" Jemma blinks, looking up from her notes, only to let out a horrified gasp and try and grab at the book Quake was holding open. Jemma's reflexes are unfortunately, a lot slower than Quake's, and she slowly starts to smirk.

"Ooh, there's something in here you don't want me to see," She deduces, excitement lighting up her eyes. "What is it? Is he an ex?"

Jemma checks her page and lets out a relieved breath. "No, no, that's my best friend, Fitz."

"You never mentioned a Fitz," Quake tilts her head, confused.

"I haven't seen him in a while."

Quake nods, and for a second it looks like she might ask about that, before she just shakes her head and looks back down at the book. "So what's in here that's so bad, then?" She asks, flipping the pages quickly to try and find whatever is the source of Jemma's embrassment. It doesn't take long.

It's a photo near the back of the book, from her days at the academy. She's in the boiler room, snogging the bartender. To be fair, he was her boyfriend at the time. So, it made sense for her to snog him. Not that it wouldn't otherwise it was just that-

"Jemma Simmons, he is smoking," Quake lets out a low whistle, then looks up at the biochemist with incredulity in her eyes. Jemma scowls. Why was it that everyone assumed she was completely naive? She'd slept with a few people and had some very nice relationships in the past. "I'm surprised." Of course she was confused when the first few had been...uncomfortable, for her, until she started seeing a girl in her class and realized what had been wrong.

"I don't know why. When you're a nubile young prodigy with an above average fashion sense, it makes sense that people notice." She grumbles.

"Oh, that's not what I meant. You're really going for it, huh?" She gestures to the photo and Jemma feels her skin heat up. "Should'a guessed you'd be passionate. The way you talk about science was a hint, you know?" Noting Jemma's blush, Quake's grin spreads even wider. "Don't worry, I'm totally into it."

Jemma hates this. She can never tell if Quake's teasing is serious or not, and lately it's been getting to her more than ever. Her eyes flit to the ground and she sinks into her seat, relieved when Quake changes the subject moments later.

...

"Briefing in 10," Natasha's voice rumbles through Jemma's door, and the brunette groans into her pillow, pout painted on her lips. How terribly unfair, after having been up until three am in the lab and very purposely unplugged her alarm clock, to be woken up at-She glances at her phone and lets out a pained whimper-6:00am. She gets up though, because you definitely do not oppose the Black Widow. Even if you are friends, sort of. She wonders why they need to have a briefing at all, considering the only people they've been fighting in the last two months have been Quake and Mockingbird, and that's happening abnormally regularly, enough so that they were all completely in the loop already. She was surprised though that it meant they'd attacked twice in one night if the team had only just returned from the assemble.

She stumbles her way out of the elevator and into the common area, looking around blearily, only jolting fully awake when she notices the streak of blood across Clint's shoulders and then the collective injuries of the rest of the team.

"What happened?" She asks, voice coming out thick with fatigue, and Tony is the first to speak, hand coming to land on her shoulder as he looks down at her, all parental concern.

"There's someone new in town," He tries to smile, but he looks weary. They all do. "Someone we were nowhere freaking near prepared for."

"He calls himself Mr. Hyde," Natasha continues, and a picture flashes on the screen, "Real name Calvin Zabo. He's not alone, either. We haven't identified his accomplice, but she took us down easily." Natasha admitted, tilting her head in acknowledgement that such a feat was impressive, while simultaneously looking irritated. "She wasn't human."

"Shot spikes out of her skin at us," Clint nods, "Aim's shit, though."

"Either way, she distracted us long enough for the two of them to escape. They left fourteen bodies behind, all SHIELD agents." There's a particularly horrifying photograph to accompany the statement, and Jemma has to turn her head away, bile rising. "None of them died of the kind of wounds his accomplice would inflict. It looks like he killed them all himself,"

"In a rage," Bruce raises his observation, his tone dry and bemused, "That kind of brutality is definitely the result of an explosive episode. I would know."

That alone is scary, in Jemma's opinion. That somebody could get angry enough to do something like this... It was disturbing, to say the least.

"Did they say what they wanted, at least?" Jemma asks, unsure of exactly what she's doing at this meeting. She's got nothing to due with the actual operation of the team apart from the scientific help, which to be fair is split evenly between she and Bruce, sometimes Jane when it involved astrophysics, though it usually didn't. Jemma herself was the only one regularly assisting.

"We think he was looking for someone," Steve explains, sighing. "He asked us where 'Daisy' was. None of us know a Daisy, though, so obviously that only made him angrier. This is a priority one mark, we need to neutralize this threat as soon as possible. We've got a few of the spikes for you to analyze, Jemma, and the sooner the better."

She's about to reply when her phone buzzes in her pocket, and automatically assuming it's Fitz, finally getting back to her, or perhaps even Coulson, she takes it out to check it, only to see,

Unknown
Received : 6:13AM
Heard Mockingbird kicked the god of thunder's ass last night

She ignores it, though she knows exactly who sent it. "Yes, I'm sure I can-" Her phone buzzes again and she reluctantly glances down, stifling her smile.

Unknown
Received : 6:14AM
do you think he's feeling pretty thor about it?

Unknown
Received : 6:14AM
Get it? Thor, sore? It's funny, right?

"-Definitely do that right now," She raises her eyes back up to meet Steve's, nodding while trying to maintain some air of professionalism. He hands her the spikes wrapped in thick plastic sheeting, but as she's leaving, calls,

"Don't push yourself too far though, Jem. Remember it's okay to take a break if it gets too much."

Has she mentioned she loves Steve? It should be mentioned again. "Of course," She calls back, even as she types out a hasty reply.

Unknown
Sent : 6:16AM
That was awful. Worse than your british accent. Just terrible.

Unknown
Sent: 6:17AM
And stop texting me, this is how people get caught.

It only takes a few seconds after Jemma has placed her phone down on the lab bench and reached for some dishes to receive a reply, and she can't stop herself from grinning at her phone. Quake is beyond cocky, and for some reason that really appeals to her. It's actually almost embarassing.

Unknown
Received : 6:19AM
I don't get caught.

...

From what Jemma can tell, Quake is a very impatient person. As evidenced by the fact is has been less than twenty four hours since the last time she saw her, and the fact that she's there right as Jemma wakes up. That on it's own is weird, but then there's the fact that Quake's alternating between looking at her and checking the time on her watch.

"What in god's name, are you doing?" Jemma mumbles sleepily, and Quake perks up at her voice, before trying to nonchalantly lean against the bedframe, her elbow losing grip on the smooth mahogany and sliding downwards until Quake's head meets the frame. She straightens up, skin tinged pink as she makes a noticable effort not to rub her head.

"Oh, just hanging out. You have a late night?" She asks, pretending to be looking at her cuticles. Maybe Jemma would have bought that if she weren't in full costume. Including her gloves.

"No," she frowns, confused. "Why?"

"You usually wake up at 5 on the dot. It's 5:18."

Jemma sputters then, "You've been watching me sleep?!"

"Not every night!" She tries, only to be hit in the face with Jemma's pillow, effectively knocking her over from the surprise attack. "Aw, hey," She pouts, rubbing her nose, "Mean."

"Creepy!" Jemma retorts, poking her finger in Skye's direction accusingly.

"I only do it when I'm already in the area! And I'm in the area sometimes," She must even see the hole in her excuse because she winces, and that is, why would Quake be in the area at five am? The shorter girl sighs, and admits, "Alright, I have trouble sleeping. And then I'm awake and bored and I just end up here, okay? It's nice to know at least one of us is sleeping."

Jemma involuntarily softens, because honestly that's rather sad. "I suppose that makes sense," She concedes, "But read a book from now on. I'm not okay with that."

Quake nods, ducking her head. "Yeah, I thought you might not be." she nods, "I knew it was weird when I was doing it. Any reccomendations, Doctor Simmons?"

"Get a hot water bottle, drink warm milk before bed- Sleepytime tea is fairly good,"

"Would you say snuggling is a good way to get to sleep?" The other girl asks slyly, "Because I'm definitely willing to snuggle."

"I'm not snuggling you." Jemma frowns as hard as she can, trying to come off as disapproving. It doesn't work, because Quake's expression doesn't change.

"It's completely platonic. Think of it like a treatment plan." She murmurs, moving in closer, and Jemma doesn't stop her. She should. There are so many things she should be doing right now.

"I'm not that kind of Doctor." Jemma whispers back, and Quake's a lot closer than she'd thought, because she can feel her breath on her lips. She smells like apples and cinnamon, and it's not what she expects but it's nice. It's a warm scent.

"Can-" The rest of her's question is broken off by Jemma's alarm blaring, alerting her that it is 5:30, causing her to suddenly regret giving herself the extra half hour when Quake pulls away and walks over to the door hastily. "I, uh, gotta go."

Jemma stares at the door closing after her in utter confusion.

...

She's been out with Natasha for lunch and some girl time- Not that you could really call beer and food in a comfortable near silence with the occasional dialogue girl time, but it was nice.

She's excused herself to go to the bathroom, and honestly, she should have seen this coming.

When she unlocks her stall and goes to the sink to wash her hands, Quake is waiting there. In full battlesuit, again.. Jemma sighs, shaking her head at the girl's antics, but before she can say a peep, Quake has her against the wall and she's kissing her. In the middle of the women's room. At Denny's. Even though it's the least romantic place to be kissing Quake (If she's honest, she'd thought about it a lot. Her ideal location had been the roof of the tower, but she'd never admit that), somehow it warms her up from her lips to her toes, and she's kissing her back. She's surprised by how gentle and soft the brunette's lips are on her own, how very carefully she's being held, like Quake is afraid she might hurt her. Who hurt you? echoes in Jemma's mind, but she doesn't say it. Doesn't want to shatter this moment. She's doing something awful in here, maybe even treasonous, considering who she is and who Quake is, who they are.

Somehow, it still feels right though. Quake pulls away, and Jemma misses the warmth of her lips, the feel of her hair brushing against her cheek, the whisper touch of her fingers on her hips. The black clad woman looks ashamed, and takes a few steps away from Jemma. "I'm sorry," She says quietly. "I didn't...I wasn't planning on doing that. I shouldn't have touched you without your permission."

Jemma pauses again, reading Quake's words like they're a strand of DNA that she's trying to take apart. She's so complicated, how can she be fine with fighting the heroes of new york, and destroying millions worth of property all over the word, but a gentle kiss has her looking like she's just seen a ghost?

"I give you permission." Jemma says, hoping she doesn't sound too eager. Quake's eyes flick back up to hers in surprise.

"What?"

"I give you permission." Jemma repeats, and steps closer to her. "Kiss me."

The seconds kiss is not as soft and gentle as the first, It's filled with excitement and want and passion and Jemma should not be enjoying it so much. Quake's pulled her into her bad girl shenanigans, and now she kind of doesn't want out of them. She finally gets to touch Quake this time, her hands moving up towards her face. Quake freezes, and Jemma realizes her mistake.

"I'm not going to take your mask off," She mumbles against her lips, "I'd like to see if your hair is as soft as it looks."

Quake relaxes back into the kiss, smugness almost radiating off her as Jemma's fingers curl into her hair. It's softer than it looks. Quakes hands had assumed their original position on her hips, but now one of them slid upwards, sending a shiver through the biochemists body as her fingers brushed her abdomen.

And then there was a knock on the door. "You've been in there a while Jemma." It's Nat, and she recognises the code phrase easily, If there's trouble she's supposed to reply with 'Yes, I know, I'm just fixing my makeup'. She almost doesn't notice Quake freeze in response to the female avenger's voice, but she does manage a reply.

"I'm sorry, I was texting Darcy and lost track of time."

"On the toilet?" Comes Natasha's incredulous and yet still suspicious voice, and Jemma winces. Yeah, bad save. Quake is rumbling with supressed laughter, face buried in Jemma's collarbone.

"No, No, at the basin. Hang on, I'll just send this one and come out." Jemma calls, and then gives Quake a hard look. The other girl just tilts her head towards the open window, which was probably how she got in, and by the time Jemma has straightened her shirt and tie, the other girl is gone. Natasha looks at her assessively when she comes out, before frowning.

"Were you crying?" She asks, and Jemma realizes her eyelids must look a little heavy, and her lips are swollen as though she's been biting them. It's a good excuse, so she just nods.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't been having a very good day." She mumbles, actually sounding pretty honest, and much to her surprise, Natasha's gaze turns soft and she reaches out, palm on Jemma's cheek.

"Stay strong, немного палевый," She tells her, voice thick, before she pulls away as though she never said anything at all. Typical Nat, allergic to showing any emotion other than anger and indifference. Still, Jemma feels her heart swell at the rare show of affection, and if she hadn't already been lifted from her dark mood, that certainly would have done the job.

...
"I'm doing a bad, bad thing." It's not exactly the first thing she should be bringing up, after all, she hasn't seen Fitz in just over five months now, but she can't stop once the words escape her lips and Fitz blinks at her over his tea, confused.

"What kind of a thing?" He asks, slowly. "A-Um, a thing with-" He frowns, and then mimics what she thinks is shooting with one hand, and flushes red instantly.

"No, I haven't shot anyone. That was one time Fitz, honestly." She winces as she remembers Sitwell, Agent Martinelli giggling from around the corner as she watched Jemma drag the body out of sight. "Besides, that was a dare gone wrong."

"Yeah, gone really wrong," Fitz snorts, "What'd you do?"

"I'm sleeping with the enemy." She pauses, considering as his jaw drops, "Well, technically I've just kissed the enemy, but I'm sure somewhere along the line I very well could-"

"Jemma!" He interrupts, "Who're you talking about?"

"Quake."

"I knew this would happen. I tried to tell Coulson, you're just too vulnerable-" He shakes his head, and she narrows her eyes at him.

"Excuse me, Leopold? Vulnerable?"

"Oh come on, you're all...all-deer eyes and sweetness-"

"I'll have you know I've probably committed treason, I don't see how that's sweet at all-"

"The lowest form of treason possible," Fitz sighs. "This is really not how I..." He trails off, eyebrows pinched together, and she glances away, feeling ashamed of herself by feeling uncomfortable at his hesitance. "Thought this would go,"

"Yes well, I didn't exactly expect it either, Fitz."

"Why are you snapping at me? You're the one sleeping with a, a...supervillain."

"She's not a supervillain! And I'm not sleeping with her. Er, yet, anyway."

"Yet?!" Fitz gapes, and then shakes his head, "You're in a lot of um, uh-"

"Trouble? Yes, I know." Jemma mumbles morosely. "But she's just so lovely..."

"I'm sure." Fitz snorts, and then, "Well, now you've got that off your-out of your mind," He rewrites his sentence, frowning, and Jemma is reminded of the difficult weeks after his accident, and how relieved she is that the fault in sentence hasn't made him shut down, only slightly irritating him now. "I won't tell," He amends, taking her brows furrowing for concern for herself rather than for him, "But I don't know what to say,"

"I just thought you deserved to know, being my best friend and all," Jemma shrugs, "Wasn't expecting advice though, and honestly, your advice has never been very good, anyway."

Fitz looks offended, and she chuckles.

"The thanksgiving incicent in the boiler room, Fitz?" She reminds him, and watches as he flushes a vibrant red.

"I did not tell Donnie to do that."

...

She's aware of the siren going off, just barely, but she cradles the pillow over her ears until she hears the telltale sign of the Quinjet leaving the roof, and allows herself to fall asleep again, so it's not until Darcy is shaking her awake excitedly that she hears about the mission itself. Or, It's not until Darcy practically shouts, "They fucking took down Mockingbird!" While squeezing her arm.

She tries to tell herself that she doesn't know Mockingbird. Not really. And the one time she did talk to her, she clearly wanted nothing to do with Jemma. So honestly, she shouldn't care.

Except she did, because she was Quake's best friend. Her best friend in the world, even, and Jemma had been seperated from her own for so long up until yesterday-She supposes she's projecting, but even so she wants to go down and see her. Darcy's chattering on next to her as they walk, something about Steve getting hulk level angry, the fists of america and a fire hydrant, but Jemma's having trouble listening, because as soon as she sees the blonde, cuffed and unmasked and being led to the elevator, she freezes. Mockingbird isn't resisting or even yelling, but there's a look on her face. She's scared, and not for herself. Jemma knows that look. She's worried about Quake. And it's just not fair, nobody got hurt, why couldn't-Oh, oh no. She's started sympathizing with the enemy, and not just the enemy she was sort-of-maybe-kind-of-in-a-way seeing.

That's when Mockingbird meets her eyes, and Jemma can see a plead in them. She's sure it's just a plead to keep Quake out of this, keep her safe, away from whoever was after her, cared for and ...no, it's not like she's a pet cat or something that's so easily taken care of, but that's what Jemma sees. And yet, something inside of her considers another option, and makes the choice between the two before she can rationalize it.

She's going to break her out.

Clint's eyes are on her when she breaks contact with Mockingbird, and she thinks she might see something there. Suspicion, confusion, She's not sure, she's never been fantastic at reading people. Especially not level eight SHIELD agents. She just hopes it's not anything she has to really worry about. She's unwilling to underestimate her team, so she just hopes that by some miracle, she gets through this unscathed and is still part of the team. Best case scenario, she got mockingbird out and somehow isn't caught. Worst case is that she gets caught before she even gets down there, and then she's fired and taken to a SHIELD prison (If there is one, she isn't absolutely sure but it would make sense for them to have one), and then the only visitor she'll ever have will be Coulson. With his disapointed face on. Oh, god, why was she doing this again?

Right. Quake. These feelings really are inconvenient.

She waits, through dinner and then through the movie the team insists on watching ("C'mon, Jem, team bonding!") before she even thinks about going down there. It's been at least two hours before she acts on it, watching for the other team members with wide, anxious eyes at each turn of the hall. Of course, she's lived here long enough to know that if any members of the team are awake, they won't be here at all. Steve, Clint and Nat spend their awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night time in the gym, apart from when Clint's in the vents, and Tony spends his in the lab. Thor is never awake in the night, he sleeps like a log. Jane and Darcy are on the floor bellow and they tend to just marathon tv series, so technically, there's very little chance that they'll see her.

Still, her hands shake as she makes it out of the elevator and to the vault door, a vault that reminded her eerily of those in the Playground, where she'd been based before this, and types in the passcode, taking the control panel for the forcefield down with her.

The occupant's name is listed as Bobbi Morse on the screen of the panel, and Jemma frowns for a moment, recognizing that name. Lance Hunter was on her old team, after all, and the stories she'd hear regularly-Well, she was sure they were mostly exaggerated, knowing Lance, but still. The blonde watches her as she walks through the door, arching a brow at her inquisitively.

"Come to gloat?" She asks slowly, "Or are you hear to tell me how sorry you are?" her second sentence drips with sarcasm, and Jemma can't help but roll her eyes. Still completely rude, even when in the middle of a rescue.

"I'm getting you out of here actually," Jemma says smugly, watching as Bobbi straightens, eyes wide.

"What did you just say?" She asks slowly, though Jemma can see the hope in her posture, she's straightened, leaning forward, and the scientist beams and pushes down on the button that dissolves the field between them. Bobbi still looks completely befuddled, but she's also not an idiot, so she lurches to her feet and follows as Jemma guides her out the door.

"JARVIS won't let you out through the elevator," Jemma explains as she grabs the back of Bobbi's shirt (Orange, which somehow suits her, like everything seems to) to pull her back away from the elevator doors, "And there are cameras in there as well," She adds, wrinkling her nose. "Do you want to be caught on those?" She watches Bobbi's grimace and nods. "Did not think so."

"Well then, what do you suggest?" Bobbi asks, and there's none of her usual irritation laced in her voice, she's genuinely asking, and Jemma's embarassed by how she perks up, eager to impress the other woman.

"The window, of course. It's how Skye gets in."

She ignores the tiny smirk on Bobbi's face at the mention of Skye breaking in, opting to shove her towards the door, and handing her one of her and Fitz's latest inventions, a grappling hook that instead of digging into the material of a wall, used a magnetic pulse to hold itself there until you pressed a button on the 'rope'. Bobbi stares at it for a moment, before chuckling.

"Impressive, but I'm not called Mockingbird for no reason. I got this, sport." She leans over and actually ruffles Jemma's hair, "I won't forget this." before launching herself out the window, somehow making her body bend in a way that curved her fall to the side, where she could grab onto the side of the building and skid downwards.

Jemma stares after her in awe, before shaking herself out and hurrying back upstairs, to pretend she's been sleeping this whole time. She interuppted in what she's actually doing- Staring at the ceiling and definitely overthinking, when her phone makes a soft chiming noise.

UNKNOWN
RECEIVED : 2am
Thank you.

...

Quake is sitting in her armchair when she opens her bedroom door. Well, more like sprawling across it, legs over the arm of the chair, head propped up on the other arm, a laptop sitting on her chest. She puts it down when she sees Jemma though, grinning, dramatically sighing,

"I've been waiting for eighty four years," and curling her arms around Jemma. She instinctively returns the embrace, only realizing when her fingers feel cotton rather than black leather, that the other girl is in civillian clothes. She's still got her mask on, though, just to be safe Jemma assumes, but there's so much that can be deduced simply by what somebody wears and Jemma was trained to think that way. Her eyes scan her, flannel over a shirt with a Captain America Graphic on it (Which, what? She attacks them and then wears their merch?), jeans, and combat boots. It's actually quite close to what she had thought she might dress like, so Jemma's pleased with her deducive powers.

"You've been waiting twenty minutes at most," Jemma tells her, rolling her eyes. She'd only gone downstairs fifteen to eighteen minutes ago, grabbed herself a carry mug of coffee, received a kiss on the cheek from Pepper and an apple from Tony, who had said she needed some healthy nutrients, and god, they really were becoming her parents, and then came right back up.

"Maybe you're right, maybe I'm right, I guess we'll never know," Quake teases, and Jemma can't help but smile at her.

"We could always check the clock, seeing as I left at three oh two."

One of Quake's hands leaves Jemma's hip to grab the alarm clock, one handedly remove the batteries, and put it face down back on the drawers. "Guess we'll never know," She repeats, and Jemma can't help the little laugh that leaves her lips.

"Yes, okay, guess we won't." She doesn't mention that when you take the batteries out, it freezes at whatever time it's on, she thinks all she'll get out of that is a pout, and while Quake's pouts are very cute, she's more interested in seeing her smile.

So she kisses her. It's like their first kiss, gentle and soft but with added tentativeness, she's worried that it might have been a one time thing, but she thinks it probably wasn't, considering Quake's arms are around her. But her fears are confirmed when Quake breaks the contact and pulls away, looking thoroughly anxious.

"I...I'm sorry, I thought-"

"You don't even know my name," the other woman says sharply. "I haven't even told you my name. How is that okay with you?"

"Well it's not like you'd tell me if i asked," Jemma points out, "And that's the thing that I should have trouble being okay with? you're the enemy of my team. You're who I'm supposed to be against. And yet." She forces a smile, but it cracks in the middle. "I can't explain it, lord knows I've tried. But I like you."

Quake bites her lip, processing what Jemma's said, before reaching up for her mask and taking a deep breath. She tugs it off, and Jemma freezes. Did she really just do that? Quake's hands are shaking, but not with power but fear. She's just exposed her identity to someone who should be taking her in.

Jemma can't stop staring. She can see the almond shape of Quake's eyes, the shape of her eyebrows, the bridge of her nose. It's really just her face, she reminds herself, but she can't stop staring. Because without the mask, Quake is even more beautiful than Jemma had imagined. She's just...There's a tingle in the back of Jemma's mind, telling her she's seen this face before. Or maybe not this face, but one that looked like it. She ignores it, pressing her lips to Quake's again, and again, little fluttery I understand, I won't tell kisses.

"My name was Daisy," She says finally, and Jemma finally gets the Daisy joke, but she continues. "Daisy Johnson. My mom died when I was just a baby. I was put in an orphanage, St. Agnes. I changed my name to Skye. I spent my life in and out of foster homes, and when I turned eighteen I saved up and bought a van to live in. I parked it outside this really nice cafe, and things...things were good, I guess." once Quake has started talking, she doesn't seem to be able to stop, eyes glued to Jemma's, filled with hope. Hope that she'll understand why she is the way she is, Jemma supposes. But that's, well, that's much better than what Jemma had assumed. She goes to speak but Quake-Skye, shakes her head, "There's more, please, let me finish. I need you to hear this. Then you can make a decision about us," She says, tight lipped.

"Okay." Jemma agrees, reaching for Skye's hands so she could hold them, gently rubbing the back of her hands with her thumbs.

"I got in trouble with SHIELD a little while later. Have you heard of the rising tide?" Skye asks softly, looking embarassed, and honestly, she doesn't know much about them apart from that they've been disbanded, she thinks by coulson, but it's not like she can ask any of the Avengers, considering they don't know he's even alive. Skye takes her silence as agreement, and continues, "I was a hacker for them, high in the chain. I was very anti-Shield," She admits, and then continues, "But the Agent who brought me in gave me another chance. He told me I could either join his team, or go on my way with a handy little bracelet that stopped me from hacking. The choice was obvious. So I joined him, and, things were nice. After a while, I realised that I really cared about him. I loved him,"

Jemma tries not to be jealous of that, obviously it's over now. Or, well, she hoped it was, and ignored the anxious swelling pit in her stomach. Skye frowns at her in confusion and then her mouth shapes into an 'O'. "No, no, like a father. I love him like a father. And it took him forever, but he came to me and asked if he could adopt me. It's not like he needed to, I was twenty, but...the papers that said I was legally his daughter? The fact that there'd be proof that somebody actually wanted me, I wanted that. And he wanted to be able to say 'My daughter, the level six SHIELD hacker,' to all his friends," She grinned a little at that, "He was a dork." She adds, and takes another breath, as though she needs to brace herself to tell the rest of the story. "He was on the Helicarrier during the Battle Of New York. He died, and he...he left me alone." Skye's eyes are watering, and she wipes them with the back of her hand, frustrated. "It's not like I can't take care of myself, but I'd gotten so used to him being there, and then he was just," She swallows. "Not."

"You can stop, you don't have to-" Jemma tries, wanting nothing more than to just comfort the brunette.

"No, I have to- I have to finish." Skye insists, "When he died, I tried to keep going. I wanted to make him proud, You know? I think I might have been able to, too. I think I could have done it." She twists her shirt around in her fingers, and then looks back up at Jemma. "I was in Prague on a surveillance job with one of the other agents. I'd seen him a few times around, but I didn't know him. They should have put me there with someone I knew. May, or, or even one of the Koenigs."

Jemma has a feeling she's not going to like what's coming next, and that's confirmed when Skye's tears start to fall again, and Jemma doesn't understand, because even at this point in her retelling, Jemma can tell she's been through hell, and yet she'll sit on her bed and poke her in the cheek until she looks at a meme, hack the tower just to send her stupid puns, and kiss her in a public restroom at a denny's while laughing. She's resilient, is all Jemma can decide. Strong and resilient.

"We'd been there for three days and nothing had happened. Ward wanted to pack up and go, he said it wasn't worth his time and talent. I told him we had to stay, and he assumed...He assumed I was interested in him, and that I just wanted to spend more time with him." Irritation forms on Skye's face. "And then he assumed again. He assumed that I was just playing hard to get, and he tried to..." She looks away again, "He had me against the wall and his hand was..." She groans in frustration, obviously not knowing how to explain this part. Jemma wonders if she'd ever told anyone this before. "It doesn't matter exactly how it happened," Skye finally decides, "He was trying to touch me and I fought back. God, I was just so angry and upset, I couldn't control it. Guess that's probably what it feels like to hulk out," She tries to joke, but her voice is flat. "I hurt him really badly, He was bleeding internally and he...He didn't look like a person anymore, and I was the one that did that. There was no evidence of what he was trying to do to me, because he hadn't done it. Fury took my badge. He said that my Dad's death, that it had done something to me, and I needed to get it together If I ever wanted to be an agent again."

"Skye..." She squeezes her hands, but she can tell it's not over yet. The way Skye's lips are pursed and her jaw is clenched, there's more to go.

"So I went home. I don't know how long I spent just doing nothing at home, probably months. I was depressed, and I was alone. A few of my Dad's old friends came to visit me, pretty often actually, but I couldn't find it in myself to talk to them. Sometimes Nat would just lie on my bed next to me, and we'd stay there for hours, not saying a thing."

Jemma's eyes widen. "Nat? As in-"

"Yeah. Yeah, the black widow." Skye admits. "Before you ask, I never set out to hurt any of them. Just Shield. And I can't see them now, they can't know about me-so the only way i can see them is when I'm Quake."

"Have you always had your powers?" Jemma can't help but ask curiously, and Skye hums in thought.

"Maybe. They've always been there, But I only accessed them recently. I met my Dad. My biological dad. and let me tell you, he's nuts. He found me, technically, He had people looking for me for ages, until one of them saw me buying milk at the supermarket and brought me in. I thought he was even crazier than he actually is, because he kept spouting all this crap about how my Mom was special and that I was special, and I had a gift and I needed to receive it. I genuinely thought he might have been going to kill me. But by then I had realized we had something in common. What I did to Ward? How i lost control like that, he was the same. He would feel fine one minute, and then lose control. He's killed people, Jemma. A lot of people. Innocent, guilty, it doesn't matter to him. he's a monster. I'm a monster." Skye swallows. "There was this thing, he called it the Diviner. He told one of the guards to pick it up," There's disgust in her voice as she speaks, "The guy turned to stone. And then he told me to pick it up."

Jemma covers her mouth in horror, even though she knows Skye must not have to still be here.

"When I wouldn't, he strapped me to a gurney, and rolled me somewhere underground. He made me hold it, and it started to glow. Bright blue, with all these symbols. I was covered in this stone stuff, I felt like I couldn't move or breath or even think properly, it was the scariest moment of my life...and then it just started to fall off. That's when I made my first quake." Skye says, "And ten days later, Fury had me brought in and locked up in the Fridge. I broke out about a year ago." She finishes. "I thought for sure Fury would have told the Avengers who they're fighting, but I guess he does like secrets more than life itself."

"So it's Fury you're hiding from?" She deduces, furrowing her brows.

"No," Skye admits, and heaves a sigh. "It's my biological dad. Once I changed- He just hasn't stopped. He's obsessed with me, he follows me wherever I go."

Jemma pauses as the pieces slide together. Daisy.

"Calvin Zabo. He's your biological father, isn't he?"

Skye frowns, looking confused. "You know him?"

"The team have clashed with him a few times. He's rather...powerful. He's got a woman helping him, she can shoot spikes-"

"Raina." Skye runs a hand through her hair, dishevelling her bangs, frustrated. "I thought she would have left after she transformed, but I guess not. She always was weirdly hungry for his approval."

"She gained hers the same way you did? That's fascinating, If you could just give me a little blood sample I could compare it with the sample we recovered from her sp-" Jemma pauses, taking in Skye's expression.

"Science Jemma's come out to play again, huh?" She teases, finally cracking a smile for the first time since telling her story. Jemma's chest puffs over the fact that she was the one to put it there.

"There's nothing wrong with mixing business and pleasure," She smirks, and Skye chuckles.

"Putting the moves on me when I'm vulnerable, that's not very honorable of you," Skye murmurs, though she takes a step closer and drawls in an attempt at a southern accent, "I'm a proper southern girl, you'll make me untidy,"

"Oh, lord, you're right," Jemma says, ignoring the second half of her sentence and pulling away, oblivious to the pout taking up residence on Skye's face. "You're upset. I should make you tea...do you drink tea?"

"Yuck, no. I'll just watch you sip it daintily like a disney princess and that'll cheer me right up." She laughs, "I swear, you wake up like one too."

"I absolutely do not!"

"The birds peck the windows trying to get in so that they can do your hair."

"That's completely inpractical, birds would do a shoddy job. I'd be better off just leaving it the way it is when I roll out of bed."

"And you'd still be fine, because, like a disney princess, you wake up with perfect hair."

Jemma looked away to hide her smile at the absurdity of Skye's compliment. "Well, It's nice that you think so, I suppose." She muses, and Skye grins,

"Licence to kiss you, Doctor Simmons?"

"If you must," The shorter girl teases, even as she leans in to meet her lips, only to have Skye pull away with a mock frown.

"I don't have to kiss you, you know," Skye says, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning away, and Jemma smirks, slowly, waiting for the confused and slightly panicked expression to appear on Skye's face before tackling her backwards and kissing her with all the enthusiasm she could (Which, honestly, is a lot.)

The criminal only pulls away again to mumble, "9 out of 10, could be better," resulting in a scientist determined to get a 10. Jemma Simmons was no underachiever, damn it.

...

It's the clatter that wakes Jemma, and she doesn't drop her guard until she realizes that the lump on the floor is a familiar brunette, and she lets out a loud groan.

"Honestly Skye, we've talked about this, you can't watch me sleep-" She stops when she realizes the lump isn't moving. That's when the panic hits, and she throws her covers off. Her feet thump loudly against the carpet as she rushes out of bed to see to Skye.

"Bloody hell," She gasps, when she sees the gash along her girlfriend's side, gently rolling her over to get a better look at it. She lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she inspects it and finds that it's actually not that deep, but bruises are blossoming across the brunette's skin, and that's concerning on it's own. "Skye? Love, can you open your eyes?"

Her heart starts to really race when there's still no response, her hands reaching out to give a firmer shake of the crumpled girl on the floor, feeling a little guilty for manhandling an already hurt woman. She's rewarded with Skye squinting up at her though, and then reaching out for her.

"Jemma," Skye's face is buried in her sweater, "My Jemma,"

"Yes, yours," Jemma nods, trying to pry Skye off of her so she can look at her properly to no avail. "What happened?"

"My dad suuuuucks, Jemma," Skye whines, "He really sucks,"

That doesn't really help her to figure out the situation at all, but she lets herself pat Skye's hair as she snuggles into her, simply stating, "I'm very glad you got away from him, though,"

"I didn't," Skye's chest heaves, "He's right behind me, so you should probably wake up your team. M'so tired, baby..."

The new term of endearment probably would have warmed Jemma's heart if it weren't for the sense of impending doom she now had. She has to gently release Skye, who pouts at the parting, but seems much more awake and aware now. She assumes it was just the shock that exhausted her, because as Jemma walks to the wall were her Assemble Alarm is positioned, Skye's examining her side, even going so far as to poke it and then wince. Jemma fights the urge to roll her eyes, this isn't the time or place.

She hits the alarm just as the tower is breached, and Skye scrambles to her feet, smoothly ignoring her injury as she follows Jemma out of the room, spotting the freaking army that Cal's somehow gathered on the emergency wall monitor, using brute force to break the doors.

And that's when the battle really begins.

...

Jemma's panting as she turns around to seek out Skye with her eyes, a grin spreading across her lips as she meets her gaze across the room, where Skye and the hulk are standing back to back, or well, back to calf, considering Hulk's size, fighting off Raina and one of Cal's men so effortlessly that Skye managed to grin right back.

Jemma feels warmth spread up her toes, seconds from calling out to her when Skye's grin suddenly drops and is replaced with an expression Jemma's never seen on her before. Absolute Terror. Jemma's too slow to turn around though, and the soldier has already pulled the trigger. If it weren't for Skye's change in expression, she'd probably be dead, but instead was simply left with an extremely painful graze. An arrow flies through the air before he can shoot again and lodges in his chest cavity, and Jemma's eyes follow the trajectory to Clint, who points to her and then in the direction of the lab. She glares at him fiercely. There is absolutely no way she's running away from the most important fight she'll ever partake in.

She pulls her night night gun up, and manages to shoot two more of the men before they realize she's even near them, still leaving quite a few men still to go. She turns to see where the rest of the team is positioned, somehow managing to trip over a fallen piece of the ceiling and cut her leg open with a yelp of pain, and that's when she spots him, Skye's father, pushing her down into the debris littered floor, and wrapping his hands around her throat. She looks around, terrified, only to find all of the other members of the team are incapacitated, whether because they're in combat or are too far away. Clint's managed to lose his bow in the crossfire, relying on his hand to hand to get through, and Thor's doing the same as well, meaning all but Natasha were weaponless.

Jemma doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what she can do, but what she does know is that right now, if she doesn't at least try, Skye will be dead. Skye will be gone, she'll never be poked awake again, she'll never break into the tower again, never whisper silly jokes in her ear when they're out, never talk loudly over a movie, never hold her hand, never kiss her in the early hours of the morning when her breath is awful and her hair is a mess. Panic floods through her, setting off a fire in her chest that she logically knows is just adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her eyes are glued to Skye, but her hands grasp around her for something to hit him with, anything at all.

Her hands close around something finally-It's light as a feather but she doesn't compute that something that light won't do much damage. Instead, she pushes herself to her feet, ignoring the blinding white hot burn in her arm, and limping forward until she's close enough, before bringing down whatever she's picked up against Skye's father's side. The sound of bones shattering is unexpected though, and as his hands loosen and he falls to his side on the floor next to Skye, gasping, she realizes she's shattered his ribs. She looks down at her hand incredulously, and she and Skye see it at the same time. She hears her sharp intake of breath, but it's like she's hallucinating. This must all be a dream, because there's no way she picked up Thor's Hammer. No way.

"Holy shit." Skye coughs through her half crushed trachea, and it's like a flip is switched in Jemma's brain. The hammer isn't important right now, Skye is. She drops down beside her, and her arm is really starting to debilitate her now, the pain is overwhelming.

"Are you alright?" She asks breathily, and Skye just nods.

"I'll heal quickly. You're holding Thor's hammer. Did you know you could do that?" Skye questions with wide eyes, and then breaks into another coughing fit, gently massaging her throat.

"I think I'd have mentioned that, Skye," She states, still in shock.

"It makes sense I guess," Skye considers, a cheeky glint in her eyes. "After all, you are a nubile young prodigy with an above average fashion sense."

Jemma slaps her arm, but she's smiling too. Until somebody speaks, and wipes the smile right off of her face.

"The hell is this?" Tony's still in his battered suit, staring between the two of them with angry eyes. Jemma's gaze scans what's left of the tower, surprised and relieved to find that they were down to the last ten or so men, who were now going down like flies.

"That's what I'd like to know," Another, more sardonic voice chimes in, and Jemma winces, burying her face in Skye's collarbone in embarassment. Oh, lord. This was the opposite of good, she was going to be locked up, and Skye would be alone yet again and-

"Dad?"

Jemma's about to say, no, he's unconcious Skye, and besides, he's utterly bonkers, when she opens her eyes and sees that Skye is staring directly at Agent Coulson. Who Tony is also staring at, for much more obvious reasons.

"Agent?" Tony asks, looking completely taken off guard, but Coulson doesn't even spare him a glance, he's staring at the girl Jemma's wrapped around, like his world has been shattered and it's all his fault. the guilt in his eyes is overwhelming, and had Skye not just called him what she had, Jemma might assume he was blaming himself for her betrayal of the team.

"Skye?" His voice is thick and rough, and he doesn't move, at first, completely ignoring Tony much to the man's indignation. The brunette looks to Jemma, trying to give her a reassuring nod, but she gives in when she sees how completely freaked out the biochemist is, pressing her lips to her forhead and murmuring,

"It's okay," As she untangles herself, getting to her feet. She takes her mask off as soon as she's standing, now face to face but almost six feet apart from Coulson. "I thought you were dead," She tells him, eyes watering as she crosses her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. It takes Jemma only a few seconds to realize what's happening, and a few more to berate herself for not have connected the dots sooner.

Coulson nods, slowly, accepting, "I thought you were dead, too." He admits. "Fury told me-He said you were in a car accident."

"Is that what he said?" Skye asks, and her voice sounds on the verge of hysteria, "That's funny. That's really funny," Except it's not funny, not at all, and this might have been what Skye looked like before she had her first explosive episode, the earth is beginning to tremor, and all she knows is that she needs to help. Her body moves before she gives it permission to, and she wraps her arms around Skye's middle almost roughly.

"You need to calm down," She whispers in soft, hopefully not panic filled tones, "Take a deep breath, please," Skye shakes her head, and she can see the rage building in her eyes, "For me, Skye," She pleads, and that's when the brunette's eyes meet hers properly, and the anger fades almost instantly, replaced with guilt and horror. Coulson looks startled, looking between the two girls, finally for once not the completely calm, put together man that Jemma had grown used to.

"You're a gifted," He states, unsettled. "How-you weren't," He seems to have no idea how to continue, so Skye just meets his eyes, and it makes Jemma want to hide her away in a pile of pillows and blankets and cuddle her until she feels better, because there's fear hidden in her expression, fear of disappointing him, Jemma would guess.

"Yeah, things change." Skye scoffs, clenching her teeth. "Especially when people lie."

Jemma can't tell if she's aiming this at Coulson or Fury himself, but she realises quickly enough that she can't stay here, she needs to get outside and sit down, get some air so that she can think straight.

"Skye, please love, come with me." She pulls at her arm, feeling the tiny vibrations she's already sending out, and for an awful moment she thinks Skye's going to resist, she's standing so stiffly, but after a few seconds, she jerks her head slightly in a nod and turns away from him, following Jemma's lead even as Tony calls after them,

"I have no idea what's going on right now?"

...

Skye is a mess when they get up to the roof, body shaking and broken nonsensical sentences erupting from her lips like wild fire spreading across a forest. Her face is white, breath coming in fast pants and it's difficult to convince her to sit down beside her on the concrete, to the point where Jemma almost has to push her down.

It takes almost twenty minutes for the shaking hands to stop, and then after that all Jemma can think of to say is, "So, this was certainly very unexpected," to which Skye lets out a full laugh and leans back on her hands behind her.

"You're telling me," She says dryly, "I should just start a reality show, It'll entertain millions," her fingernails drag at the rough rock beneath her fingertips as she tries not to clench her fists, and Jemma winces. Her fingertips are going to be scratched raw if she goes on like that.

"It probably wouldn't be good for your secret identity, though," she nudges Skye's shoulder playfully in the hopes that It might relax her a little, and to her relief, Skye grins.

"Well, yeah, but it'd be interesting as hell," there's a pause, "you'd watch it. Because you love me," its meant to be a teasing joke she thinks, if the self deprecating look on the other girls face is anything to go by, but Jemma frowns in thought. She does love Skye. She hadn't realised it before or maybe she had and she'd elected to ignore it, but there is no mistaking the way she feels now, and the words leave her lips firm and honest.

"I do. Yes."

Skyes head snaps back up, hair catching the sun beautifully, and she stares at Jemma with something akin to wonder, with a fair mix in of shock. Jemma doesn't think it should be so surprising really, she's always been a bit of an open book. Or so she's been told, anyway, technically only by Fitz, so it wasn't actually a very good sample pool.

"You love me? Like, actually love me?" She asks slowly, drawing her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Shaking again slightly in what Jemma hopes isn't horror.

"Yes." Jemma's frown starts to deepen at Skye's silence, "I'm sorry, I didn't...I mean, I can't help that I love you. There's quite a lot to love so really it was inevitable. If anything, its your fault for being so loveable-"

Thankfully Skye cuts off her rant with her lips, soft and gentle and so utterly Skye that Jemma melts a bit. She's stuck, staring at Skye as she pulls away, trying to push down the hope inside her at the response.

"I love you too, Jem. I've loved you since you saved Bobbi. Or at least, that's when I realised it. Probably loved you for a while before that," there's a quiet happiness in her eyes, and Jemma reaches out and slips her fingers into the brunettes.

"Are you ready to go back inside?" She asks tentatively, and Skye shakes her head.

"Not in the slightest," Skye moans, mood changing dramatically as she lays back, head uncomfortably cushioned by the concrete, hair spilling out around her in a fan. "I'm not going back inside, but can you-can you like, get him to come out here?"

Jemma nods, and releases Skye's hand reluctantly, getting to her feet. "I'll send him out and wait for you downstairs, yes?"

Skye jerks up, wide eyed. "No, no, Jemma." She gasps out, "you're staying, I need you. I need you with me for this,"

Jemma's smile is radiant and she leans down, pressing her lips to Skye's forehead before heading off to get Coulson.

The talk is strained, and Skye's hand clenches down on Jemma's every time she gets to a particularly difficult part of her retelling, but thankfully Coulson is just sitting there, looking ridiculous cross legged on the roof with a tailored suit on and a serious expression.

He doesn't seem to react at all to any of it, and she and Skye exchange a glance after she's told up to the present, because he's not saying a word, just sitting there stoic.

"Dad?" Skye probes softly, and that seems to knock him out of it. His eyes lock on her, adoring and despairing at the same time, and he shakes his head.

"Skye.." his voice is rough and raspy with emotion, and then he stops again, perhaps considering his words. "I am," his face pinches slightly, "so eternally sorry for all that has happened to you. I thought you'd be safe, when I died. I thought you'd be taken care of, and given a therapist at least. The events that have taken place are something I would never have even dreamed of, and I should have been there. I know I'm not your biological father..."

"Thank god for that," Skye breaks in sarcastically, and he just inclines his head at her, and she goes quiet to allow him to continue.

"But I am your father. And it was my duty to protect you. When they told me you'd died, something inside me just broke, but that's no excuse. I should have searched for you, I should have made sure. But I believed Fury when he said that, and now I'm paying the price." His voice was soft, but his words were sincere, and Jemma notices the glassiness of Skyes eyes and knows she's going to cry. She squeezes her hand, and Skye glances back at her, shooting her a watery smile of reassurance.

"It wasn't your fault," Skyes voice breaks as she says it. "You were lied to. So was I. I mean, this shit all goes back to Fury," she spits, "and that asshole in there who thinks he can call me his daughter. Evetythigs just...just fucked up," Coulson doesn't even flinch at her language, just nodding.

"I should have been there though-"

"Oh for the love of-" Jemma scowls, "how could you have possibly known? You were basically dead, and Skye was said to be dead as well, you'd have to be a fortune teller to see all of this coming. If anyone is to blame, it is director Fury himself. And if we're being candid, if I ever get my hands on Agent Ward, I'll most likely do exactly what Skye did to him as well." He raises an eyebrow at her and she hastily adds, "sir."

He takes a deep breath, an amused half smile on his face that when Jemma Looks to her side, is matching the one Skye is wearing. Coulson's eyebrow turns on Skye, and she chokes on a wet laugh.

"I know, right?" She murmurs to him, hand tightening in Jemma's for a completely different reason now. "She's pretty great."

"That has been proven to me time and time again," Coulson agrees, "and yet she never stops surprising me."

Jemma's blush spreads down her neck and she buries her face in Skye's shoulder, embarassed.

"We've got a shit tonne of issues," She hears Skye say, "but now we have a lifetime ahead of us to work it out?"

"I think its time to re assemble my own team," Coulson slowly grins. "And add someone who I think will be an asset."

...
Two Months Later
...

Skye's face has been pressed against the wall for the last fifteen minutes. She's pretty sure that she's either on the verge of passing out or maybe just letting out the longest, most pitiful moan and sliding down the wall, face first, when she hears familiar footsteps- she's been trained to recognise the little differences, and she's actually kind of blown away by just how differently they all walk- and Jemma stops behind her, muffling a chuckle.

Skye scowls, "Jemma Simmons, you have no idea the pain i've been through," She grumbles against the wall, and slowly, painstakingly turns to face the biochemist. She's grinning of course, and Skye can't help but be drawn in by her, like a moth to a flame.

"I am sorry, Skye," Jemma says, with all the sincerity of a walnut, "It's just- Well, you look really amusing, right now."

"I'll keep that in mind next time you're training with May," Skye grumbles, but comes forward to lean on Jemma dramatically, "I think all of my energy has been sucked out, you'll have to carry me, Agent Simmons." All the while very subtly looking around to see if anyone's watching (Read: Director Coulson, also known as her father, also known as the man who gives her oddly knowing looks whenever he finds her in compromising positions -which is entirely too often already- and makes her want the earth to swallow her).

"Is that so, Agent Skye?" Jemma goes along, grinning, "I'm afraid I just don't have the upper body strength to carry you, you'll have to ask Fitz."

The idea of Fitz struggling to carry Skye upstairs is enough to set them both off into a fit of giggles, leaving their faces dangerously close, and Skye slowly grins as the realization that everything is good and Jemma is her girlfriend and she's living with her makedo family sets in, and she captures Jemma's lips in her own eagerly.

"Gah! Can't you two keep it in your pants for five minutes?"