So this is a little idea that just popped into my head when I was watching T.R.A.C.K.S. and Coulson said the fatal line, "I can't deal with Asgard today."

And then I got thinking, and I accidentally (because I am totally meant to be focusing on other stories) wrote this. Oops.

I'd love a review, or a follow, or a favourite. Please enjoy!

"Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible."
― Lisa Kleypas

Fate, Skye mused, was not nice. It simply happened, like it or not, and sometimes it happened in the blink of an eye - a car crash, love at first sight - and sometimes it happened over a long period of time, like...

Well, Skye couldn't be bothered to think of it right now. But if she could, she would think of love in the stories, and answers that she was finding, bit by bit, about her past.

Sometimes, she wondered if fate was written out before the dawn of time, just because whoever was up there, looking down on them, was bored. And if so, was there any way to avoid it?

Because avoiding it would have been very useful in her case, what with the hundred or so Italians locked with her and FitzSimmons in the Asgardian...what were they called here? Dungeons? Cells? Prison?

"Who knows?" she said aloud, and then, as an afterthought, "Who cares?"

Simmons was talking in broken Italian to a crying child who appeared to have been on the train without her parents and Fitz was arguing with Carlo Mancini, who, after a long discussion, had finally decided that it was in his own best interests that his three enemies here survived. They had gone around, checking that everyone was uninjured and (apart from those who were terrified and panicked out of their minds, who between them Skye and Simmons had calmed down), when they were done, they had made an announcement that they were looking into how they could get out of here.

Had the situation not been so dire, Skye was pretty sure that she would be bored. She was slumped against the wall, staring randomly into space and thinking about poetic things like fate.

But, she assumed, for quite a while that would be all she was able to do.

Ward was practically running up the walls. He wanted to go up there, save them, not just stand around doing nothing like they were. But it didn't help that they had lost two of the best scientists SHIELD had and anyway, there were dead ends everywhere.

Dead. Like they could all be. He knew it wasn't professional. But he missed her constant chatter beside him, her references to films that he had never even heard of, her bubbly, laid back attitude that irritated him as much as it satisfied her.

And, loathe though he was to admit it, he missed the scientists to. Their arguing, their knowledge of everything that Ward and the rest of the team could not even begin to process...

They could be dead now, slaughtered by Carlo Mancini. They had the night-night guns, but, if he faced the facts, they were the second half of the team, the half that had little if any idea of how to defend themselves.

It wasn't the fact that they could be in trouble, he told himself firmly, it was the not knowing.

Though of course none of that mattered now.

What mattered now was saving Skye.

(And FitzSimmons, obviously.)

So...I'm not sure how that went. I know it was short, but to be honest it was slightly rushed. Review and who knows...maybe I'll continue!