Author's Notes: Firstly, to all my Buffy readers who assumed the email they just received was an update alert for NMG or AOTD - sorry. Really, very sorry. I am working on those stories (honest) but this was a one-shot I felt compelled to do when I fell head over heels for this particular pairing. I originally planned to release this as a short, fluffy piece for Halloween but it just grew into a monster and now, a week later, it's finally done. Please let me know what you think as I had plans of doing a companion piece set after this story, so if there's interest I'll get on it. After I update my Buffy fics of course.
-laughs nervously and tugs at collar-
Scare Tactics
Jemma stifled a huge yawn with the back of her hand and checked her watch. She frowned at the position of the little hands on the dial in disbelief and huffed out a soft sigh. Glancing around the empty lab presented enough evidence to confirm her watch wasn't lying; she had pulled an all-nighter and worked through the early hours of the morning. Jemma frowned to herself, unable to recall when Fitz or the other Shield scientists had turned in for the night. She really had to stop doing this.
Stretching her arms above her head elicited a pained groan as a series of aching muscles and stiff joints cried out in protest. She weighed up the pros and cons of staying up to finish with her specimen dissections and decided another half hour wouldn't hurt considering the overtime she had already managed.
Jemma was by no means the only one working harder than usual. Hydra was unrelenting in their quest for domination and had proven they would eradicate any who would stand in their way. Everyone had been going above and beyond to keep up with the twists and turns of the sinister organisation that refused to stop re-growing heads. The field agents seemed to rarely be at the Playground for longer than half a day before flying out halfway across the world again. Jemma had seen the weary faces of Bobbi, Hunter, Trip and Skye, and had treated their cuts, sprains and bullet wounds - of which there were becoming an alarming regularity.
On the occasion Coulson wasn't desperately scouring the globe for allies or new intel and actually present he rarely came out of his office. Even Fitz, despite not working the same ridiculous hours as herself, had made leaps and bounds in his recovery and she had caught him taking projects to bed with him in a thoughtful daze. It made her smile to see him now working at a pace that Mac was struggling to keep up with.
However, Jemma was very much starting to feel like a candle burning away the last of its wick. Her mind was well and truly sleep deprived and desperate for a vacation from the never ending onslaught of scientific brainstorming she put it through on a daily basis. Worst of all, she was beginning to feel the enormous weight of everything upon her shoulders.
Thirty minutes passed twice and Jemma still found herself rooted to the same spot, hunched over her specimens, the weight feeling as ominously present as ever.
Actually, Jemma was quite sure there was something physically pressing into her right shoulder. She peered around to find the glaring face of a hideous monster. She blinked, and when the creature remained she knew she wasn't hallucinating due to sleep deprivation.
"Boo." said the thing standing behind her.
Jemma tutted angrily, turning her back. "Where on earth did you get that?"
"That's classified," replied the red-faced demon in a muffled but unmistakably female voice. "If I told you I'd have to maul you." A hand clawed playfully at Jemma's shoulder for emphasis.
Ignoring the plastic claws pawing at her lab coat, Jemma peered through her microscope and calmly asked, "By chance did you and agent Triplett encounter some variety of costume shop while you were away?"
"Maybe," the monster drew out the word and a prickly sensation ran down Jemma's neck as the claws walked their way up to the top of her head, "maybe not."
"I don't think Coulson would class that as a mission priority," Jemma lightly chided as she adjusted the lens of her microscope.
The monster sighed in frustration, its gnarled fingers pausing just above her forehead. "You know you're really taking the fun out of this, Simmons."
"Terribly sorry," the biochemist apologised sarcastically, still focused on her work, "I'll do my utmost to cower in fear next time you sneak up on me."
"That's all I ask."
Jemma straightened up and smiled tiredly at her monster-faced nuisance. She noticed a box full of Halloween masks and props at their feet and laughed softly.
"Someone has been busy," she noted as she started to peel off her gloves, finally succumbing to the siren call of her bed, "hardly in line with covert operations."
"I'm pretty sure the middle-aged stoner who sold me these wasn't Hydra material," the monster replied sardonically. As Jemma smiled and rolled her eyes, it walked around her, dancing its plastic fingers along the edge of the table top. In a decidedly curious tone it asked, "Why are you up so early, anyway?"
"I'm not up early, I'm-"Jemma began to say, then paused, still in the process of removing her remaining glove, to give the monster an exasperated look, "Skye, I can't take you seriously with that on."
"Because you're terrified, right?" Skye's slightly muffled voice goaded her, as she raised her clawed hands menacingly, "Scared out of your mind?"
Jemma stretched her glove away from Skye with her other hand and let go.
"Ow," Skye bemoaned as the flimsy plastic smacked off her mask. She pulled the rubbery mask off her head revealing her flushed cheeks and puffed out a breath to cool her face, blowing her bangs off her face. Her eyes flashed brightly as she gave a lopsided smile, "Saw right through the disguise, huh?"
Jemma just raised an eyebrow, giving her a patient look before picking the glove up off the floor and discarding it with the other.
Skye seemed to register the start of Jemma's sentence prior to the interruption and scrutinized her in an accusing manner, "Wait, have you been up all night? Again?"
"Yes," Jemma confirmed after a moment of deliberation, avoiding Skye's searching gaze, "but I think"-she barely stifled another big yawn- "it's time for bed."
Jemma slipped past the young field agent, ignoring the mixed look of frustration and concern, and pre-emptively cut off what she knew would come next by asking, "Why are you up?"
"I was out on assignment in Chicago." Skye had a strange look on her face now, "We only just got back. Don't you remember the brief yesterday?"
"Oh, of course," Jemma frowned softly as she rubbed her tired eyes, "I completely forgot, sorry."
"No worries." Skye shrugged, regarding the biochemist inquisitively while she was too preoccupied putting things away to notice. "Mission was a bust - thank god. First field operation in forever that didn't involve me being shot at."
"Clearly you found something worthwhile." Jemma gestured toward the box of Halloween merchandise. Skye hefted the box off the floor grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Well, with all this talk of Hydra making zombie soldiers I guess I was in the Halloween spirit," Skye clarified as she followed Jemma with the box under one arm.
"There aren't any...zombies. Zombies do not exist," Jemma corrected stiffly. "It's all just rumour and hearsay. Or the fantasies of mad scientists. Likely the latter considering who we're talking about." She had scoffed at the reports of Hydra experimenting on the dead to create flesh-eating biological weapons. It sounded like something out of a B-movie or a video game and she made a habit of squashing any ludicrous talk of the undead within the team.
"With Hydra nothing seems farfetched," Skye countered with an undertone of deep rooted contempt, "I'm only surprised they didn't try to reanimate the dead sooner." There was the sound of rustling and then Jemma heard a muffled, "Hey, who am I?"
Jemma turned at the lab's glass doors as she stopped to take her white coat off. She chuckled at the infamous red and gold helmet now adorning her friend's head as she hung the coat up on the wall.
"Ironwoman?" Jemma teased, genuinely amused.
"That's not a bad idea actually." Skye peered from under the plastic helmet, looking genuinely interested, "Do you think Stark needs a sidekick?"
Jemma smiled despite the heavy roll of her eyes, pushing the door open and holding it for Iron-Skye to manoeuvre through with her cumbersome box of goodies.
"I'm not sensing much love for All Hallows Eve, Agent Simmons." Skye said primly as they strolled leisurely down the corridor. The sounds of the Playground coming to life reached their ears and the occasional early riser smiled at them as they walked.
"I'm fully aware of the American enthusiasm for the holiday," Jemma replied tersely, "I just personally don't share the fascination with a pagan tradition that now bares no resemblance to its origins."
"Right..." Skye narrowed her eyes at the other woman, "so, what, they don't have Halloween in England or something?"
"Of course we do," Jemma paused momentarily to realise she was now talking to a werewolf. Her eyebrows furrowed then rose slowly as her exhausted brain processed the change, before pointedly adding, "We're just not...fanatics."
"Well welcome to the big leagues, Simmons," Skye announced, once again muffled, "you're in for a treat. Or should that be trick..."
The biochemist let out a long suffering sigh. "Skye, darling, if your intent is to play a series of frightening pranks on the team with whatever's in that box, I feel I should remind you that you work with a number of highly trained killers." The hacker's eyes bugged in surprise for a second, caught off guard by Jemma's annoyingly fast deduction skills, before recovering and feigning shock.
"I implied no such thing and I'm offended you think so low of me," Skye said with a tone of quiet outrage that was almost believable.
"Mm," Jemma hummed with an unimpressed rise of her eyebrows, "well by all means do your worst, but don't come crying to me when May or Bobbi justifiably beat you to death."
As they neared Jemma's bunk, Fitz appeared from around the corner, too focused on something he was fiddling with in his hands and mumbling to himself to properly notice them. A few feet away he finally glanced up, sensing he was being watched, and let out a shriek.
Fitz clutched at his chest, doubled over as the werewolf next to Jemma laughed without remorse. Jemma shook her head, wearing the expression of a doting but disappointed mother, "Oh Fitz, honestly."
He managed to mostly compose himself and raised a warning finger in Skye's direction,
"It is...far too early...for this kind of...you...its..." he let out an aggravated growl and marched away from the two women, muttering curses under his breath.
"One down," Skye announced triumphantly, the evil glint of mischief swimming in her eyes as she pulled the mask off and dropped it back in the box with a flourish. Her eyes slid toward Jemma, "Who knows who'll be next..."
Jemma's exaggerated gasp of horror was very much of a sarcastic nature and she fearlessly walked away into her room while Skye continued to glower like the devil with a plan.
"You scared me plenty when you were shot and very nearly died," Jemma supplied with a dry smile that looked rather forced, "I honestly don't think anything you do can top that."
Skye's features were slowly overtaken by a sad smile that almost appeared rueful. She exchanged a meaningful look with Jemma, holding her gaze, "Hey. No fair. You know I didn't mean that kind of scary."
"Good," Jemma's smile became more sincere, but the solemn look in her eyes remained as she softly added, "because I never want to experience that again."
Skye was so drawn in by the intensity of Jemma's words and the lingering, unreadable look in her eyes that she actually jumped when someone knocked on the doorframe.
"Skye," Trip called from Jemma's doorway, "May wants to see you."
"Looks like you have places to be," Jemma summarized in an upbeat chirp, managing to shake off her sudden emotional tangent and fix Skye with a reassuring smile. "Off you pop. Wouldn't want to make May angry now would we."
Skye managed a small smile and wave in farewell, looking somewhat putout about having to leave, but moved toward the door anyway, "Get some sleep. And I mean more than a few hours, Jemma."
"I will, I promise," Jemma could already feel her eyelids getting heavier from just being in physical contact with her mattress, "as long you promise not to try and scare me till I'm awake."
"Deal." Skye grinned begrudgingly from the corridor.
"But don't forget," Trip said ominously, "to check there's nothing under your..." his face suddenly turned aghast as a rotting hand grabbed his head from beyond the doorframe and began to pull him out of sight.
Jemma stared toward the door in confused alarm until his head popped into frame again, waving the fake hand at her limply and smirking wildly.
"Oh, for Pete's sake..." Jemma grumbled over Skye and Trip's laughter before flopping down on the bed and smothering her entire head with a pillow.
The days crept toward the end of October and Skye had wasted no time in setting up various scary pranks that ranged from simple and subtle to painstakingly elaborate. She had managed to get scares out of everyone at least once; while certain individuals such as Fitz and Lance had proven to be victims that kept on giving. Skye had even conquered the emotionless Melinda May; who had released a short, sharp 'oh' when the torso of a training dummy equipped with a monster mask had fallen toward her as she opened her bunk door. May had kicked the dummy clean out of her room and Skye took the opportunity not to gloat over her victory, focused more on setting a new record for running to the opposite side of the Playground. However, a certain scientist remained unperturbed by the couple of pranks she had stumbled across and Skye was determined to get a reaction out of the seemingly unflappable biochemist.
On the week leading up to Halloween, Skye used any available time she had to come up with better, more intricate methods to give Jemma the fright of her life. Skye learnt her daily routine, looked for patterns and memorized the most minute detail in the hopes of finding a weakness. A person of sounder mind might have questioned this unhealthy need to scare her best friend by any means necessary, but Skye was too far gone to stop and reflect. At this point it had become personal - a mission of pride.
On Monday a large, exceptionally realistic, plastic spider was suspended from the ceiling of Jemma's preferred shower cubicle just before her 8am shower. The spider had a mechanism that, when sensing movement, caused it to plummet downward on a string. If it worked on Mac what chance did Simmons have?
Like clockwork, Jemma entered the showers at 7.55am and Skye loitered around the female changing area with an expectant grin, waiting for a chorus of screaming. The minutes ticked by and the only sound other than the faint rush of water was the gentle humming of a wordless tune from Jemma. Skye started to grow restless and confused, fearing the toy spider had already worn out its warranty, and then Jemma's humming turned to singing and Skye stopped caring about everything else - period. She fell into a stupor, pressed against the wall outside the showers, as she listened intently to Jemma's rendition of a song she didn't recognise. When the singing eventually came to an end, Skye slowly blinked back to reality, realising the sounds of the shower had also stopped.
She quickly backed away to the furthest corner of the room, doing a terrible job of looking casually inconspicuous. Wrapped in a towel, Jemma stepped into the changing room and spotted Skye halfway through the process of taking her top off.
"Oh, morning, Simmons," Skye paused her little act and smiled breezily at the biochemist, "didn't know you were up."
The smug smile coupled with the unconvinced look on Jemma's face told Skye she should quit while she was ahead. Jemma held up the toy spider and handed it to Skye as she passed her with a pitying shake of her head.
"Is this the best you can do?" Jemma asked with a tone of mock sympathy while Skye stared dumbfounded at the plastic prop in her hands. Jemma disappeared into one of the changing booths along the wall, her voice echoing from behind the closed door as she subjected Skye to a patronising lecture on how she had handled dozens of highly venomous snakes and spiders throughout her career, and that her Halloween prop wasn't even a convincing substitute for a real arachnid.
Chagrined with her failure, and becoming more so the longer she listened to Jemma's dissection of said failure, Skye felt her cheeks burn as she was filled with new, fiery purpose.
Jemma re-emerged, now fully clothed, and Skye smiled sweetly, secretly gritting her teeth, because Jemma was still talking and Skye's fingers had a chokehold on the spider.
She vowed to scare Jemma Simmons sideways just to prove she could, just to wipe that pleased smirk off her face, just to prove herself triumphant over this new fearless version of the sweet, anxious girl she once knew; if it was the last thing she did-
A scream from outside took them both by surprise, halting Jemma midsentence and Skye's train of vengeful thought. They shared a confused look before going to peer out into the hallway just in time to see the infamous Mockingbird herself, thunder written across her face, glaring wildly in all directions. The look of murder fell on the pair of women and she stormed their way. Skye quickly hid what she was holding behind her back. Jemma's questioning look at the action vanished when Bobbi brandished a different, but clearly fake, spider of her own. She waved it accusingly in their faces.
"Who did it? Who's idea of a joke is this?" the blonde agent's eyes darted between the two women.
"I have never seen that before in my life." Jemma said earnestly, completely straight-faced. Skye was thankful for once she wasn't lying because the jig would be well and truly up had the scientist been forced to tiptoe around the truth.
Bobbi's glare fell on Skye, who in reply, pulled a deep frown and raised her eyebrows as high as they could physically reach, shoulders shrugging innocently.
"Oh, I see. I know exactly who did this," Bobbi straightened up to her full imposing height, her eyes like fire and a sneer on her lips. Jemma observed Skye slowly backing away as she maintained a remarkable look of genuine interest in who the culprit was.
They both held their breath, awaiting judgement as the Mockingbird fumed in silence. Skye, whose heart was thudding like a drum, was suddenly recalling Jemma's warning about Bobbi beating her to death. One terrifying thought dawned on her as she looked up at the physically intimidating agent, 'Oh, god, what if she uses the batons?'
"Hunter," Bobbi spat abruptly, making both women flinch slightly. "He knows I hate spiders. He is so dead. I'm actually going to kill him this time."
Skye let out the breath she had been holding as Bobbi stormed down the corridor.
"That was close," Skye chuckled, grinning at Jemma. The biochemist simply tutted, an amused twinkle in her eye as she shook her head and walked away. Skye quickly recalled her new goal and narrowed her eyes malevolently at the other woman's retreating back.
On Tuesday, a can of 'snakes' let out a ghoulish scream as it exploded up into Jemma's face when she opened a drawer in the kitchen. Skye watched her pause very briefly to sigh at the mess now all over the floor and counter before taking what she needed from the booby trapped drawer and walking away with her lunch.
Skye swore under her breath all the way to training and May actually managed an expression close to surprise when the young agent racked up an impressively high score at the firing range.
On Wednesday, Jemma walked into her room to find a suspicious lump beneath the covers of her neatly made bed. Skye, hiding out of sight behind the open door, waited with impatient glee as the other woman cautiously approached the bed. Jemma whipped back the covers only to reveal a mound of pillows and frowned in confusion - Skye's cue to act.
Unfortunately, Jemma heard the slight creak of the door as Skye lunged at her from behind, and the prankster got a pillow straight to the face when her would-be victim spun around, prepared to defend herself. Her monster mask haphazardly hanging sideways on her face, Skye had stormed moodily from the room, followed by Jemma's laughter. When Jemma tried to call her back in apology between bouts of laughter, Skye purposefully ignored her.
Later that same day, Skye made herself feel better by playing the same prank on Hunter with much more satisfying results.
On Thursday, Jemma peered into her microscope to find the words 'Look behind you' painstakingly etched into one of the tiny slides. Instead of doing as asked, Jemma exhaled in slight irritation and blindly informed the lab around her, "Skye I'm working with hydrochloric acid. If you don't want either of us to be horribly scarred for the rest of our lives I'd rethink whatever you're planning."
After a long moment of silence, Jemma heard angry muttering and heavy footsteps leading out of the room. She missed the sight of Skye looking on the verge of pulling out her hair.
"I don't get it," Skye huffed, arms fanning out and slapping against her sides, "nothing works."
She hopped up onto the table adjacent to the one Fitz was working at, watching the other scientists mill about with a pout pulling at her bottom lip. Jemma was in the infirmary dealing with a nasty gash May had taken to the head in her mission that morning and Skye had taken the opportunity to complain to the one person who should surely support her goal.
Skye's latest attempt at scaring Jemma had failed pitifully just like all the others and the Shield agent was at her wits end. Halloween was tomorrow and if she couldn't scare Jemma on the day itself then that was it. Any attempt beyond tomorrow would just be in poor taste and have very little justification; other than, of course, that Skye had developed an addictive and rather anti-social new pastime.
"I mean she's scared of those 'Dah Lick' things and they're basically angry trashcans with plungers attached so how hard can it be?"
"Daleks," Fitz corrected without looking up from his work.
"That's what I said."
The engineer let out the sigh of someone about to explain something painfully obvious to sensible, intelligent people like himself, "That's because they're unstoppable killing machines born from the nuclear war ravaged wastes of Skaro, and you're just a..." he paused, closing his eyes and rotating his hand, willing the words to come, "...girl in a cheap Halloween mask."
Skye ground her jaw as she gave him an indignant look, her lips parted in a humourless smile. "It worked on you."
"Wellll...good for you!" Fitz retorted hotly, unable to think of a decent comeback to defend his pride. Skye smirked as he fiddled agitatedly with the components in front of him.
"What you have to understand is that Jemma has seen it all," Fitz explained patiently, "the pranks at the academy sharpened the wits of all of us. We expect the..." he sighed in frustration.
"Unexpected," Skye filled in distractedly as she stared thoughtfully into the distance.
"Thank you," Fitz sighed from both frustration and relief.
"And she practically dissects any horror movie you put in front of her," Skye mused before stiffening her posture and adding, "seriously we watched Friday the Thirteenth and I had to sit through gems such as 'a neck wound like that would be bleeding far more profusely - do these people even bother to do the research?' "
Fitz looked up, grimacing at her appalling attempt at Jemma's accent.
"First off - never do that again. Second - Simmons has an intimate knowledge of human biology. She isn't squeamish in the slightest."
"Unlike you." Skye quipped with a sly grin.
"Did you want my help or not?" Fitz snapped grouchily.
Skye smiled sweetly at his glowering face.
"As I was saying," Fitz continued, "Jemma isn't squeamish; not of body horrors or creepy crawlies or anything like that - but that doesn't mean she's entirely fearless."
"So what is she afraid of?" Skye asked despairingly.
"Ghosts," Fitz replied matter-of-factly.
Skye scrunched up her face and scoffed loudly, "Simmons doesn't believe in ghosts." Her tone had resembled that of someone who thought their time was being wasted, but then her expression abruptly turned doubtful, "Does she?"
"Oh no, she thinks they're total nonsense," Fitz affirmed, shooting Skye a bemused look intended to convey this was obvious. "Doesn't mean if she saw one she wouldn't...you know..."
"Freak out..." Skye finished, a devilish smile beginning to pull at her lips.
"Bingo," Fitz confirmed with a wave of his screwdriver, "and I think we could rig something up that'd get the, uh, the...effect!" Fitz clicked his fingers in triumph and he grinned in a conspiring manner, "that you're looking for."
The look of mischief had returned to Skye's face, "I'm listening."
What Fitz created in a matter of hours was, in Skye's opinion, a thing of genius. He had insisted it was a very simple piece of tech but Skye wouldn't have had a clue how to make heads or tails of it. Luckily, using it was a far simpler affair. However, when the perfect opportunity would present itself to use the device was a bigger problem in itself.
Strangely, it was Hydra, of all things, that Skye had to thank for solving that hurdle.
On Friday, midday, Coulson had called them all in on an urgent new piece of intelligence that lent worrying credibility to Hydra's program for reanimating the dead. As the Director briefed them on the action they would be taking in response, a key word caused Skye's eyebrows to shoot up into her hairline and her eyes silently screamed before she hastily fought to keep some control of her face muscles.
Coulson had definitely said the word 'cemeteries'. As in a place for the dead. A horror movie staple. Somewhere perfect for the appearance of a certain ghost-projecting device-
She felt Jemma's gaze sweep her way and Skye forced a poker face. She gave the biochemist a small nonchalant smile as she returned a look of absolute knowing. It was almost like Jemma had a reason not to trust her of late. Reminding herself she was a Shield agent first and, apparently, terrible friend second, Skye refocused on what the Director was saying.
"Several long deceased Hydra officers are supposedly buried at these two grave sites in Europe," Coulson continued, pointing toward the huge screen on the far wall, "if the rumours of Hydra resurrecting its dead are true it would become a major concern for us if even one of these stiffs rose from their well-deserved graves. They were all ranked highly under the Red Skull - Hydra's elite."
"I'd prefer that didn't happen. The last thing Hydra needs is more allies," Coulson supplied gravely. "It means we'll have to break into a few tombs and desecrate a few graves, but, despite it being Halloween, we hopefully won't actually be waking the dead." Coulson shrugged to himself sheepishly, a small, boyish grin fleeting across his face, "Hopefully."
The mission was simple in theory: two groups would be dispatched, one to either cemetery, with one agent required to verify the bodies on site with a DNA scanner and another to provide assistance, and protection, if required. Once verified the bodies would be incinerated with a Magnesium Ignition Capsule - or Micky, as Fitz affectionately named his creation - to destroy all trace of the target's biological matter.
Fitz was paired with Bobbi for Site A, and when Coulson appeared to be on the verge of asking May to shadow Simmons at Site B, Skye's hand shot up frantically.
"Me! Me - I would be happy to do that - the shadow thing. I think I'm ready. Don't you, May?" - May opened her mouth - "I'm totally ready," - May closed her mouth, taken aback - "I can do it. I will do that. Yes. Sir." Skye finished lamely as she went from manic enthusiasm to assuming an air of total control.
"Um, okay. Great." Coulson replied eyeing her like she had grown an extra head. The rest of the team had similar looks on their faces before departing to prepare for the mission. Though Skye did notice on her way out of Coulson's office that Jemma was biting her tongue and shaking her head in amusement.
"Who's next?" Jemma asked as she hugged herself against the cold breeze whipping her hair about. When she got no response she turned to see her companion trailing behind and called, "Skye?"
"Hang on," Skye grumbled as she glanced down at her screen then surveyed the sea of gravestones and mausoleums. "Over there - the crypt with the 'V' above the door. Ophelia Sarkissian," Skye informed as she flicked her fingers across the tablet screen. "Hm. Pretty," she said with mild surprise. After a moment spent scrolling through a detailed history of the deceased her expression twisted into one of absolute disdain, "Also an awful, awful human being. Wow - where did Hydra find these people?"
Her words were to herself more than anything but Jemma still replied readily, "Well I imagine Hydra attracted the worst kinds of character considering its roots were founded in the Nazi regime."
"Uh huh." Skye's voice was devoid of interest as she flicked distractedly at her tablet.
Jemma stopped and whirled around.
"Oh, Skye, please stop sulking," Jemma pleaded in exasperation, "it was a very clever illusion, it really was, and the thought you put into terrifying me...although greatly troubling...demonstrates just how resourceful and determined you are as a field agent."
"It's a bit late for flattery, Simmons," Skye huffed sullenly. Fitz' gadget had worked beautifully, achieving exactly what the engineer had promised it would. All except for the intended reaction. Skye might as well have held up a big sign with 'BOO' written on it for all the good the fake apparition had done. Jemma had barely flinched - and the uncontrolled giggling that had followed had only added insult to injury.
"I'm not even sure why you get to be annoyed at me. You're the one who's been menacing me for days on end," Jemma argued rationally, as she tried to rub warmth into her arms through her jacket. "If anything I should be the one upset with you!"
"You could've at least tried to look scared," Skye grumbled, apparently not hearing a word Jemma had said.
The biochemist rolled her eyes and sighed, her breathe exhaling in a white mist. It may have been the brisk weather of Northern Europe, or the constant feeling that she hadn't had enough sleep, or, perhaps, the fact she was reaching the last of her patience with Skye's campaign of terror, but Jemma's next words were far more biting than she had intended. "I'm sorry you're so consumed by this crisis of pride you're going through, but to be honest, that holographic projection was rather transparent."
"Well it was meant to be a ghost," Skye retorted as they approached the entrance to the crypt.
"No, I didn't-" Jemma shut her eyes, stopping herself, deciding that correcting Skye in the mood she was currently in wouldn't be the smartest move on her part. She didn't want an argument - especially one over such a ridiculous subject. Hoping to change the topic, she summoned deep from the apparently limitless well of patience she had within her, and with an encouraging smile said, "Why don't we focus on the mission at hand? It's rather cold and morbid here and I'd quite like to leave as soon as possible."
"Okay," Skye sighed in resignation. She took out a cigar shaped object from her hip pocket and, with her tablet tucked under her armpit, twisted it in both hands. A bright red beam of light shot out the end and she aimed it through the crease where the crypt doors met. The smell of burning metal quickly filled the air as the laser finished its job and the lock gave way, made evident by one door creaking ajar. Skye pulled the old slab of wrought iron open with an ominous groan of metal on stone. She gestured beckoningly to her colleague and managed an exaggerated smile. "After you."
As the night wore on and the wind grew colder, little was said between the two as they carried out their grisly work through the moonlit graveyard. Five bodies had been located and burned without incident and as they approached the final one on their list, Skye let out an impressed whistle, "This guy's a piece of work. I mean - was - a piece of work. Wouldn't want him coming after my brains." Skye glanced cagily at Jemma. She had kept conversation mission-oriented for the last hour or so and even then their exchanges had been brief. Seemingly, under the intention of mending bridges, Skye clumsily added, "Or, I suppose, yours. Since you're academic genius girl."
"Yes, I'm sure the hypothetical undead pick their victims on a PHD count basis," Jemma said dryly.
"Right," Skye nodded stiffly, looking newly deflated. She quickly got to work on the crypt door and stepped aside in silence. Jemma felt instantaneously guilty, but unable to catch Skye's downcast gaze, she shone her flashlight into the thick shadows within the crypt and stepped inside. The tension was beginning to creep into Jemma's nerves. She and Skye had barely ever been at odds, always on the other's side during team meetings, especially whenever discussions transformed into heated arguments.
The coffin in this crypt was a marble stone casket in the centre with a lid comprised of a slab of the same material that was thicker than Jemma's arm. When the slab wouldn't budge with their combined strength, Skye resorted to taking a crowbar from her backpack. Jemma jammed the crowbar into the small gap beneath the lid and forced all her weight into prying it open. She felt Skye add her own hands to the tool and, after several moments of exertion, the lid pried open with a sudden, loud crack that echoed in the dark mausoleum. Stale air rushed out as they pushed it aside. Skye wrinkled her nose not for the first time that night at the smell of seven decades worth of decay.
Jemma peered over the body, scanner in hand. She went through the motions, saw the green light appear on the scanner and was about to report 'positive' when an idea struck her. She paused abruptly, just for a moment, as she ran it through her mind again. She felt the dense weight of the crowbar in her other hand and hid a small smile to herself, before straightening up and spinning around to face Skye.
"It's the wrong body." she declared in a neutral voice.
Skye blinked, clearly confused. "I'm pretty sure it's not. See. Says so right here," she pointed helpfully to her screen, facing it toward Jemma, "Dead Hydra guy lives here."
"I'm afraid the scanner disagrees," Jemma shrugged plainly, making sure to keep her voice calm and expression unreadable. She pocketed the scanner and glanced pointedly at the crypt door, edging toward it, "Shall we try the next one? Maybe we'll have more luck-"
"Jemma, I can literally see the Hydra emblem printed on his uniform," Skye almost chuckled, looking at the other woman like she might have gone blind, "scooch over and I'll barbecue this creep."
Jemma rooted herself to the spot, standing directly between Skye and the open tomb. As she took the weight of the crowbar into both hands her next words were cold and clinical, "That won't be necessary."
"What?" Skye face scrunched up in bemusement, then as if Jemma had become slow, dragged out a tentative, "Why?"
"Because," Jemma drawled, looking at Skye as if she were a simple child. She began to step toward Skye, the look on her face never wavering as she declared, "He's far too valuable to lose."
"What?" Skye repeated, now with a noticeable quiver of fear in her voice.
"You poor, sweet girl," Jemma rolled her eyes, "should I make this easy for you?" The end of the crowbar prodded into Skye's stomach and she instinctively backed away until a wall prevented her going any further. Jemma slowly closed the gap; the expression on her face far removed from anything Skye had ever seen on the woman's face before. There was no warmth or kindness, not an ounce of compassion in her eyes and as she leaned in toward Skye's right ear the two words she uttered felt like a cold knife slicing into her stomach.
"Hail Hydra."
The words slowly registered and Skye's blood turned to ice, a cold sweat working its way down her back. She felt the pointed end of the crowbar pressing into her navel but didn't care. Her wide eyes bore into Jemma's as she leant away from the side of her face, a cold smile curling her lips. Skye's breath rushed out all at once as her body reminded her of the need to breath.
"No...no, not you, too," were the words that echoed in her head, but her voice had failed her, dying in her throat.
She felt numb. Hollow. Lost.
And then, just as it dawned on her that she should probably be dead by now, Jemma's face cracked into an enormous smile and her musical laughter contrasted vividly with the scenery and Skye's current horror-induced state.
"Gotcha!" Jemma revealed triumphantly, poking her stomach playfully with the crowbar. Her
"That is not funny!" Skye snapped, finding her voice sounded strangely hoarse as it echoed around the crypt. She shoved a giggling Jemma in the arm, but there was barely any force behind the effort despite how angry Skye felt.
"Okay, I am sorry, but you've been trying to scare me all week," Jemma defended, somehow able to sound apologetic and chiding simultaneously. "Quite frankly you deserved a taste of your own medicine."
"Still mean," Skye grumbled, pouting angrily as she stormed from the crypt. "Way too mean."
"Skye! The body!" Jemma called after her, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.
The hacker spun around, marched to the tomb, threw in a Micky, and strode back out. Jemma briefly watched voracious flames fill the stone casket before following after her runaway shadow.
It didn't take her long to locate Skye. She found her leaning against a tall tree whose branches had been stripped bare by autumn. Jemma also spotted Skye's ghostly hologram nearby, glowing palely against the surrounding darkness. Jemma sighed and trudged over to the sulking Shield agent. As she passed the hologram she noticed even it looked dejected over its failure to scare her.
Jemma sidled up beside the other agent, pressing her back into the bark of the tree. Skye was staring up at the stars, apparently lost in thought.
For awhile, Jemma just enjoyed the silence and the vast patch of night sky above them, but eventually she broke the ice in the best way she knew how.
"Did you know there are more stars out there than grains of sand on this entire planet?" She informed conversationally, eyes tracking across the sky, taking in every spec of light against the black. "And that some of the stars we can see are so far away that they've already died. Like that one there," she pointed to a particularly bright one to the left, "that star is a ghost. If we travelled there right now there'd be nothing to see. All we can see is its past."
Despite her sullen mood Skye couldn't help the contented smile that crept across her face.
"Some people find it depressing," Jemma stated, fixated on the view above, "I think it's beautiful." She bumped her elbow gently into Skye's side. "Are we okay?"
"Of course we are." Skye's reply was immediate and affected, tinged with regret.
Jemma searched Skye's face for whatever unspoken truth she seemed to be hiding, before asking, "Then what's wrong?"
For a moment it looked like Skye wanted to lie and deny there was anything amiss. Instead she held Jemma's gaze, eyes swimming with a contrast of emotions, before looking back up to the heavens. "It doesn't matter."
To Jemma it mattered a great deal but she didn't push the issue. Desperate to maintain a positive air between them, she instead gestured her head in the direction she was looking and brightly said, "I have to commend Fitz on his work. I've never seen a hologram with this range of mobility."
"What do you..." Whatever Skye was going to say died on her lips. Jemma thought she had turned rather pale.
"Please tell me you can see that." Skye's voice had an unusual quiver. Jemma glanced in the direction of the hologram.
"Well, yes, obviously." Jemma replied, looking puzzled.
"Then, uh, why...why aren't you freaking out right now." Skye asked tensely, eyes wide and staring. Jemma simply stared, utterly lost.
Then it clicked, and Skye understood Jemma's mistake.
"I hate to break this to you, Simmons," Skye said in a hushed voice as she slipped her hand into a side pocket and pulled out the device that had failed to scare Jemma earlier, "But that's got nothing to do with me."
Jemma gaped at the device and felt the blood drain from her face and imagined she looked ten shades whiter than Skye.
"But...but I-I walked right by it..."
She thought she heard a moan, wistful and low, beneath the whistling of the wind.
"This isn't funny anymore!" Jemma rushed out in a hysterical whisper, hands grasping Skye's nearest arm in a vice-like grip. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, "I'm sorry, okay! I'm sorry I wasn't scared before but I am now. I'm sorry I pretended to be Hydra! So please cut this out right now!"
"I'm not doing this!" Skye whispered back frantically, "look!"
Jemma examined the device herself and it appeared for all intended purposes dead to the world.
She slowly, tremulously looked toward the thing walking aimlessly between the gravestones, only a few rows away from them. A small part of her brain tried to be rational, tried to understand this phenomenon like a new science project. She could feel the dryness of her throat and the ferocious racing of her heart, and when she realised she couldn't see its legs because it didn't have any, the last of her bravery fled, and she forcibly spun into Skye; clutching at her in sheer terror.
"Oh god...oh lord...what is it?!"Jemma's head was buried in the crook of Skye's neck and her fingers had such a tight grip on her right arm that it was starting to go numb.
Skye struggled to find words that would reassure either of them, as Jemma continued to hysterically mutter 'oh god' over and over against her neck.
Jemma peeked at it again, possibly overpowered by her sense of scientific curiosity, but nothing she was currently observing made any kind of logical sense.
The legless spirit hovered in midair for another minute or two until eventually, like it had never been there at all, it faded into the darkness.
After a long pause, filled by the sounds of the branches creaking in the wind above them, Skye finally found her voice.
"Fuck." She caught an admonishing look from Jemma but her shock was making it exceedingly hard to care. "I can't believe I just saw a-"
"Don't say it-!"
"-ghost." Skye felt the woman clinging to her shudder. She looked guiltily down at Jemma, "Are you okay?"
"No, Skye. No, I am most certainly not okay," Jemma said in quiet, trembling voice, "Can we please leave now."
Skye placed a comforting hand on Jemma's back and guided her in the right direction. Her legs felt like blocks of lead and Skye had to will them forward with great mental effort. The hacker remained silent for the rest of the walk back to the quinjet, occasionally glancing at Jemma as she muttered a mixture of confused and reassuring things to herself.
If Trip noticed the weird tension between the two women when they came aboard he didn't bring it up, greeting them in his normal manner and asking if everything went smoothly. Skye managed a monosyllabic reply and the ghost of a smile, whereas Jemma had already collapsed in a seat. Skye sat beside her, and felt elated when the Quinjet rose into the air and sped quickly away, headed home. Wordlessly, Jemma rested her head in Skye's lap and remained that way for the entire journey, falling asleep as the younger woman's fingers idly stroke her hair.
The debrief back at the playground was short and to the point - after all intents and purposes the mission went without a hitch. Fitz and Bobbi had reported in with similar success and were heading back. When Coulson made a light-hearted joke about being thankful they wouldn't have to deal with ghosts from the past he noticed his office get perceptibly colder.
Jemma had gawked at him with dead, saucer-sized eyes and Skye had quickly covered for her, stating the other woman was just suffering from a lack of sleep. Although Coulson still looked concerned, he bought it, and recommended they both get some well-earned rest. Skye wasted no time bidding him goodnight and escorting Jemma out of the Director's office and toward her room.
After taking a lengthy shower to wash away the smell of death and the memories of the night, Skye was on route to her bunk, but found her feet coming to a stop as she passed Jemma's room. She hovered uncertainly in the doorway. Jemma was sat on the edge of her bed cradling a mug to her chest, appearing oddly innocent in her white sweater with its too long sleeves. Skye observed her carefully. She seemed to have mostly recovered from her shock at the cemetery, but there was a lost and puzzled look in her eyes like someone who found out their entire life thus far had been built on a foundation of lies.
"You...okay?" Skye asked tentatively. Jemma's head turned to her in surprise, the tiny flicker of fear enough to serve as an answer. "Dumb question. I know. I'll shut up."
Jemma gave a small, tired smile in answer and sipped her tea. She looked down at the mug, thumb running up down the handle. Skye crossed the threshold cautiously and when her presence wasn't rejected she walked over and sat next to Jemma. She rubbed at her legs self-consciously, at a loss for words while Jemma remained in silence, consumed by her thoughts.
"Crazy night, huh?" Apparently Skye's mouth had a different definition of shutting up, "not everyone can say they-"
"What's this all been about, Skye?" Jemma asked softly, her abruptness and searching gaze catching the other woman completely off guard. Skye's face scrunched up into a perplexed smile so Jemma clarified, "the pranks?"
"It's Halloween," Skye shrugged nonchalantly after a beat, "it's what people do. I mean my holiday knowledge is rusty - foster kid and all. Also, nuns? Not so big on Halloween. Go figure." She earned the thinnest of smiles from Jemma. "But me and Miles, we played pranks for a couple of Halloweens. It was something."
Jemma said nothing and the woman to her left fidgeted under her concerned gaze.
"What?" Skye laughed uneasily.
"Halloween is about going out of your way to give me heart palpations?" Jemma asked dryly.
"No," Skye replied quickly and the intensity of the scientist's gaze made her look down. She shrugged, staring at her feet with furrowed brow. "Look, maybe I did get a little carried away."
"Just a tad."
"I'm still waiting for someone to pinch me, you know?" Skye explained abruptly, staring at the opposite wall. "I was just making the most of it. This great thing I have. This new life, this new...family. I saw that little, crappy shop in Chicago and I thought - what the hell? Halloween - that's a family thing, right? I might as well try it now because I don't know what tomorrow will bring." Skye looked back at Jemma, who was listening intently. "Who knows where we'll all be this time next year."
"We'll be here," Jemma said as if it were obvious, "rebuilding Shield. Helping people."
"You don't know that. In barely a year everything changed."
The words came out of Skye's mouth automatically and she regretted them simply for the pained, sympathetic expression that took residence on Jemma's face.
Skye swallowed, hands balling against the bed.
She was on a roll now, Skye couldn't seem to stop herself, she might as well see if this open honesty thing was worth the state of vulnerability she was steadily slipping into. Skye felt safe here - in the Playground. She had people she could confide in; Coulson, May, Fitz. People who were there at the beginning of her journey with Shield - people that didn't seem to have any plans to be rid of her. And Jemma, who had never judged her, even when she truly deserved judgement; who had gone above and beyond to keep her from death's door; who had stood by her always as a loyal friend and teammate. She owed her honesty and the world.
Skye started with the part that was hardest to say, the part that still haunted her every day.
"People we trusted betrayed us." She felt Jemma's hand brush across her leg and reassuringly stroke her knee.
"Fitz is...he'll never be who he used to be," Skye admitted sadly. "Coulson keeps compartmentalizing everything, keeping secrets - secrets that could affect me, personally, and when I want to talk to him he's in Europe or Asia - anywhere but here with the team." Skye gestured angrily at thin air.
"And you. You came back from your cover at Hydra and you weren't..." Skye searched Jemma's eyes, hesitating on her choice of words, "...you weren't the person I remember. You weren't Simmons."
She looked away, feeling like her words were shameful, and worried at her bottom lip before continuing, "Threatening to kill Ward - and I mean I don't blame you - but the old you wouldn't have done that. She definitely wouldn't have sounded so convincing, anyway.
"You don't sleep - not enough," she added when Jemma tried to argue, "I know everyone's tired and overworked but you're pushing yourself way too hard. It's ridiculous." Her stern gaze softened slightly, "And you're getting better at lying." A bashful smile caused her to shake her head, "I actually fell for that 'I'm Hydra' performance."
"Sorry." Jemma winced, her face a mask of guilt as she squeezed Skye's knee.
"The pranks were just for fun - honest. We could all use a little scary that's not the life threatening variety," Skye explained. "But when you didn't exactly react the same way as the others..." she swallowed, her eyes roaming the interior of the room restlessly, "I just...I wanted..."
"Wanted what?" Jemma encouraged quietly.
"I wanted proof you were still you. That I wasn't losing you." Her words hung in the room and just as she thought the silence would drive her to madness, Skye heard Jemma tut softly.
"Come here," the other woman ordered affectionately, wrapping her arm around Skye's shoulders in a sidelong hug. The hacker rested her head without hesitation against Jemma's chest, tucked beneath her chin, focusing on the way Jemma's fingers stroked her shoulder in a soothing manner.
"We've all changed," Jemma stated gently, running her thumb over the top of Skye's hand, "but that doesn't mean it's for the poorer." Jemma's eyebrows rose as she added, "I personally relish not being gripped with fear every hour of each day.
"But that doesn't mean I don't hold the same beliefs and values I've always stood by. It doesn't mean I'm not worried out of mind for you when you're out on a mission, because trust me," - Jemma let out a humourless, breathy chuckle - "I am. I'm frightened you could come back less than you were or not come back at all.
Skye leaned away to look Jemma in the eye with a cheeky smile in place and eyebrows raised expectantly, "Just me?"
Jemma rolled her eyes good naturedly, "The whole team."
"I learnt how to push those fears down and focus on helping the team." Jemma continued, "Fear wouldn't help Fitz get better. It wouldn't stop Ward being in a cell beneath my feet, beneath the bed I slept in every night. And it certainly wouldn't have done me any good behind the walls of a Hydra facility."
Skye mused on everything Jemma had said, head still lolling against the other woman's chest. "I suppose this new brave Jemma isn't so bad," Skye admitted, feeling a heaviness evaporate from around her heart that had been there all week.
"Well I'm not feeling particularly brave at the moment." Jemma said honestly, "I'm also questioning everything I know about the scientific world."
"Yeah, I know the feeling." Skye huffed a nervous laugh. Her next words came out by their own volition, "I can bunk with you tonight if you want?"
At Jemma's flushed look of confusion Skye's grin vanished and she quickly backpedalled, "I mean - I could - if you don't wanna be alone or whatever."
Understanding dawned on the other woman's face and Jemma softly laughed the suggestion away.
"I'll be fine."
Skye nodded and slipped off the bed as casual as could be. She smiled, walking backwards toward her exit, "Well, it's been an interesting night to say the least," Skye admitted, her eyes flashing as she raised her eyebrows. She smiled fondly as Jemma chuckled and, with great reluctance, forced herself to say, "Sweet dreams."
"Or perhaps," Jemma spluttered as she rose from the bed, her voice pulling the retreating woman back into the room. Her eyes flickered to Skye and away several times, wringing her hands as her mouth opened and closed like a fish, lost for words. She smiled with nervous hope and asked, "Would you? Stay, I mean?"
Skye found herself grinning from ear to ear and quickly reeled her lips back under control.
"If that's what you want." Skye shrugged, drifting back toward the bed. Jemma's shy smiled was the perfect response. Seeing an opportunity to make her blush, Skye leaned toward her in a manner reminiscent of Jemma's Hydra act, and huskily said, "I hope you don't hog the covers."
After turning off the light, Skye settled beneath the covers, feeling Jemma shift over to accommodate her. It didn't take long for Jemma to curl into her side, her head resting on Skye's chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jemma let out a sigh of contentment before softly whispering into the darkness, "Skye, promise me something?"
"What?"
"Don't have a Halloween mask on when I wake up," Jemma said, her voice already growing sleepy, "or you will leave this bed in a very rude fashion."
Skye's laughter shook her chest.
"I won't, I promise," Skye said around her smile. "Night."
"Mmnight..."
For the first time in a long time Jemma fell to sleep without trouble. Skye, in contrast, found herself wide awake. She was plagued with thoughts and feelings that showed no sign of quieting down.
She found herself questioning everything. Specifically, every interaction she had recently had with the woman currently curled against her body.
The strange flutter in her stomach caused by the arm draped across her midriff and the gentle breaths tickling her chest. Her thoughts expanded to moments that day, moments that had occurred in the recent week and months beforehand. The way Jemma had somehow made an astronomy lesson in a graveyard one of the most romantic and poetic things she had ever heard; the way her Hydra act had her pinned to a wall, completely at Jemma's mercy, and how a part of her had quite enjoyed it; the way Jemma's singing had left her weak in the knees; how happy she had been to see her free from Hydra and out of harms way; how relieved she was to find her waiting, alive and well, after Garrett had assured her she was dead. The look of conflicted adoration on Jemma's face as she had fussed over her, modestly brushing away Skye's gratitude for saving her life.
It all crashed over her like a wave until finally she felt herself close to a conclusion she had apparently been ignoring for months.
At that moment, Jemma stirred in her sleep, releasing a soft, sleepy moan, and Skye's chest all but seized up. It took Skye a minute to realise she had automatically started stroking Jemma's hair and was looking down at the face below with adoring eyes. Skye's hand froze mid-stroke, her mouth suddenly incredibly dry.
"Oh, no..."