AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a sweet little chapter - hopefully it's likeable enough.
OF BOWLING ESCAPADES AND COOKIE-BOY
"Please, Jemma?"
Skye's been trying to bug her best friend for practically the entire day, and unsurprisingly, she's found that Jemma Simmons is not an easy girl to crack. But perhaps that just makes things a whole lot worse, because Skye Coulson isn't exactly one to give up. And so the war continues, back and forth.
"No, Skye," her friend says calmly, plucking up her pen and switching back and forth between her laptop and her various study books. "For the last time, you are not meeting Fitz."
"Why not?" She sounds whiney and she knows it, but Skye's honestly beyond caring at the moment. Seriously, how does Jemma keep up under the constant pressure? She hasn't done anything about her annoyance except continue to study. Honestly, she has no idea how Jemma can keep up at her fancy schmancy private school. They get so much work it's not even funny.
"Because, Skye," Jemma continues patiently, "you'll scare him. He's still traumatised from Halloween, you know."
"Yeah, but that was different! Besides, he knows I'm better than that, right?" Skye props herself up on the pillows stacked on her bed, reaching to grab a cookie from the tin container. They're a gift from Mrs Simmons - Daddy Phil is good at many things, but baking is not one of them.
"He knows about the time you hacked into your school systems, Skye," Simmons sighs, finally dropping her pen and spinning around in the chair.
"I just wanted to check my results, that's all," Skye defends quickly, taking a bite from her sugary treat and taking a moment to savour the taste. Jemma only shakes her head and hops out of the chair, gesturing for a cookie of her own. Skye palms one into her hand obediently, and soon they're perched on the window seat licking the crumbs off of their fingers.
"Okay," Jemma says finally.
Skye's spirits lift, and she cracks a bright grin at her friend. "Really?" If she'd known sugar would be the best route to agreement, she would have given Jemma a cookie a long time ago.
"Yeah," the fellow fifteen year old nods, a smile on her own lips. "If you let me see your friends too."
"What? You want to see my friends?" The tone of surprise is evident in her voice, and Jemma nods like it's the most normal thing in the world (which, now that Skye actually thinks about it, is actual quite true).
"You want to meet Fitz, I want to meet your friends. Do you have a problem with that? A boyfriend you're hiding, maybe?" Jemma teases lightly. It's not something the other girl does often, but it's nice when she does.
Skye's mind flashes to Grant Ward (the guy who she might have a teensy tiny little crush on) for no apparent reason, and she laughs openly, reaching to pluck a grape from the snack bowl. "Jemma Simmons," she giggles, "when did you become so demanding?"
Her friend only shrugs in response, and they laugh the afternoon away.
...
Later, when Jemma's gone back home and the sky is starting to turn dark, Skye excuses herself from dinner early and races upstairs to her cellphone - something that greatly confuses Phil but doesn't seem to faze May (who seems to be over for dinner all the time now) at all.
It only take three rings before the other end picks up, and Skye grins automatically at the voice who answers.
"Rookie?" It's become something of a fond little nickname now (and she's starting to like it, although she'll never admit it to anyone, especially not supremely popular good-at-everything Grant Ward), ever since Grant had found out that she had no clue whatsoever on how to play chess. It wasn't like they'd ever taught such things at St Agnes, anyway.
"I kind of need your help, Grant," she says, almost apologetic in her tone. Although not entirely - she's still far too excited about the whole idea.
"What did you do now, Skye?" She can almost imagine his exasperated sigh from her own home, and she smiles to herself, eyes flickering out the window instinctively as a bird flutters past.
"Nothing!" Skye defends indignantly. Honestly, why does everyone think she's up to no good? It's like no one trusts me. "Just.. are you free on Saturday?" As soon as the words fly out of her mouth, she regrets it, because it sounds too much like she's asking him out on a date, and she's just waiting for him to call her out, but-
"Yeah," comes the simple reply, "Why?"
"Oh. Great," she breathes a sigh of relief to herself before soldering on rapidly. She can practically feel the waves of confusion through the cellphone. "Because, well.. you know my friend?"
"Bambi?" Grant's tone is unmistable surprise. "You made up with her, right?"
"Yeah, it's, um, actually Jemma. Not Bambi. Thanks for that, by the way," Skye brushes it off quickly, dropping herself onto her bed and splaying out on the covers lazily. Her fingers go to clutch at the familiar wooden bird that sits in it's special spot on her bedside table, the special gift from so very long ago. "Anyway, I want you to meet her."
"You want me to meet her?"
"Yeah," Skye nods far too earnestly. "Well, not just you. You can bring Trip as well. Oh, and Bobbi and Lance." That is, if they can keep it together for just a few seconds in a room together. Seriously, it's like the place is about to implode everytime Bobbi and Lance are near each other. Sometimes, Skye isn't really sure whether it's hate or some really weird form of love.
"Okay.."
Grant still seems totally lost, so Skye finds it in her to explain impatiently, "Jemma won't let me see her friend, so I made a bargain. I meet her friend, but only if she meets mine. Easy, right?"
Grant is slow to respond. "And.. I'm your friend?"
There's a dead silence for a moment, because Skye honestly doesn't know. She'd thought Grant was her friend, but... "Yeah?" she says, but it comes out more like a question than anything else.
"I'll be there," is his only response.
...
Skye's all loose hair and excited nerves, messing around with her fringe and huffing in annoyance whenever it slips down in the way of her vision. Maybe May is right - she does need to get a hair cut sooner or later. Nevertheless, it's the very last thing on her mind at the moment because she's far too excited. Jemma and her friends are finally going to get to know each other. If it had been anyone else, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but to Skye it meant the entire world.
"Skye, are you sure about this?" Jemma pipes up nervously from beside her, and she can't help but grin at the state of nervousness Bambi's in. Her friend's been fretting all morning, and Skye can't possibly fathom why. After all, they're just her friends, right? Not the king or anything. But she doesn't think that little piece of information will help at all, so she turns to face Jemma instead and offers a fleeting smile.
"For the last time, yes! They're not going to bite, I promise. Besides, it's just bowling. How much trouble could we possibly get into?" At Jemma's movements to reply, Skye adds hastily, "Anyways, you were the one who suggested this idea."
"I thought it was a good idea at the time," Jemma admits rather unashamedly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear - as she always does whenever she's nervous or unsure about herself. Skye's noticed it more than once. "It's just.. You know that I don't fit in well with these types of people, Skye. It's always been like that."
It's then that Skye catches a glimpse of something else in Jemma's hesitant poise, and her eyes flash suspiciously. "At the park the other day, you said something about bullying. Jemma, if something's going on-"
She never gets the chance to answer, because there's a loud call to interrupt, and then several familiar faces pop up out of the blue. Not all is forgotten, but Skye saves the questioning for later and waves to her friends, her fingers frigid from the cold. It's a chilly day, late autumn and crossing into winter. Despite the fact that she's wearing winter-appropriate clothes, the cold still sneaks its way in and she just wants to hurry up and get inside.
"Sorry we're late," Bobbi announces as they draw to a stop. She rolls her eyes and sends an exasperated look to her right. "Lance held us up."
"Hey, you are not just pinning this on me! Just because my shoe went missing," Lance shoots back, looking incredulous. Skye has to hide her laugh behind her hands, and even her nervous friend looks amused.
"Oh, please," Bobbi scoffs, crossing her arms. "Like you didn't lose them yourself. This happens every time, Hunter! We go somewhere and there's always-"
"Guys," Grant's voice cut through admist the quickly sparking argument, his eyes flicking between Lance and Bobbi simultaneously. "Can we save it?"
"Yeah," Trip nods in agreement. "There's a whole bowling alley to explore, and I'm freezing like hell out here."
Skye grins happily at their antics, before suddenly remembering the whole reason why she's here. Nudging Jemma easily with her shoulder, she announces, "this is Jemma, my friend. Jemma, these are my friends, Bobbi, Lance, Trip and Grant."
"Nice to meet you, Jemma," they all greet in their various ways. Bobbi grins, Lance tips an imaginary hat, Trip smiles and Grant nods. Jemma only smiles timidly and waves in return.
"They're a pain in the butt, but they're cool once you get to know them," Skye continues mischeviously - partly to lighten the air, but mostly to reassure Jemma, who's looking slightly uncomfortable.
"I don't know if that's an insult or a compliment," Lance says as he pushes open the door to the bowling alley and flashes his teeth in a smirk, "so I'm gonna take it as both. Let's head inside, shall we?"
"Oh, definitely an insult," Bobbi can't help but snipe on her way in, something which only starts up another round of heavy bickering as Grant and Trip follow them in with a roll of their eyes. Skye's about to trapse after them when she sees Jemma hovering hesitantly at the entrance.
"Come on," she urges confidently. "They're nice, I promise. I know you're nervous, but don't you trust me to make good friends?"
"Well," Jemma begins, "I still remember what happened with Bernie-"
"We don't speak of Bernie," Skye mutters darkly, but her tone combined with the inside joke is so ridiculous that they both end up laughing.
"Lance and Bobbi," she starts up again, after she's done wiping away tears of laughter, "Are they a.."
"A thing?" Skye suggests. At Jemma's nod, she throws her head back in laughter and shrugs. "Who knows, with them. C'mon, Bambi. What harm can it do? You can torture me with Fitz, if that makes you feel any better."
This time, Jemma doesn't hesitate.
...
By their third game, Skye's sweating - and she's hardly leaving her seat anymore. After all, she's hardly doing anything anymore - Grant's doing all the hard work for her team.
They've decided to split into teams, Bobbi with Lance, Skye and Grant and surprisingly, Trip and Simmons. Trip had been surprisingly eager to have Jemma on her team, and judging by the way she's laughing, she doesn't seem to mind either.
The first few games had been pretty even, but eventually it was obvious that Grant and Bobbi were out-throwing everyone else. Eventually, everyone had drifted back to the seats with drinks and snacks, perfectly content with watching Grant and Bobbi throw for them. Despite the fact that Triplett and Jemma have no hope of redeeming themselves, it doesn't seem to bother them too much.
When Skye sneaks a quick look at them, Jemma's swirling a straw around her lemonade and flushing, and Trip is laughing at something and offering her some chips. Skye finds it rather heartwarming, to be truthful. She's glad that Jemma's getting along with at least one of her friends.
"Smash 'im, Bobbi!" Of course, her thoughts can't go undisturbed for long, and soon her and Lance are having a battle of who can cheer the loudest.
It's safe to say that the other bowlers are not pleased.
...
"He likes you," Skye teases.
Her and Jemma are on the short walk back home, kicking through brown and red leaves and hugging their coats closer to each other. The wind stings sharply, but Skye's far too interested with her friend's love life.
"Of course he likes me," Jemma smiles, rolling her eyes at Skye like she's being silly and not anywhere close to her intelligence level (which she isn't - Skye still suspects that her friend is secretly a computer). "I like him too. He's friendly, isn't he?"
It's then that Skye groans at Jemma's total and complete innocence. "No," she corrects, giving her friend a sly smirk. "I mean, he likes you."
"Don't be silly," Jemma chides, far too quick to try and abolish the thought from Skye's mind. Her cheeks are flushed red, but Skye can't tell whether it's from cold or embarrassment. "He was just being nice to me, that's all."
"Come on," Skye continues mercilessly, giving her friend a playful shove as she pracyically skips down the pathway. "Trip totally likes you! He's cute too, you should go with it."
"Skye," - yep, she's totally blushing, - "he was just being friendly! Besides, I haven't gone out with anyone since... well... Howards." if it's possible, Jemma gets even more embarrassed.
"Jack?" Skye gapes, her mouth falling open and the incredulousness seeping through. "You went out with Jack Howards? Red-rubber-ball-that-slipped-under-the-fence Jack? Jemma! Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was just a one-time thing," Jemma defends, shrinking into her jacket. "It was more of an accident, really. Sally Webber - girl from my class - dared me to kiss him."
"You played Truth or Dare?" Honestly, Skye isn't sure what shocks her more.
"Yes, Skye!" Jemma snaps, looking surprisingly indignant. "In case you aren't aware, we don't just sit in the classroom eating paste."
"Sorry," Skye backpedals quickly and holds her hands up in a sign of surrender, but she's grinning all the same. "Jemma Simmons! You certainly get around, don't you?" Her teasing is relentless, but it's okay because she knows how much her friend can take and how far she's allowed to go. "What about this Fitz you keep mentioning? Get to him yet?"
Jemma rolls her eyes, but the effect is wasted because her face is still tinged with a pink flush. "We're just friends, Skye."
"Then there's no reason not to go for Trip," she declares happily, nudging her friend and kicking at a pile of leaves. The leaves flutter across the road in a flurry of gold, red and brown, and Skye can't help but smile. Autumn is undoubtedly her favourite season of the year.
"He's just being friendly," Jemma protests, a good-natured groan slipping into her tone of voice.
"A little too friendly, if you ask me."
"Skye!"
"He likes you!" she sing-songs on repeat, all the way home until Jemma looks like she's about to push her out into the middle of the road.
...
Skye's late. She's expecting a whole speech from Jemma, but it turns out to be okay because everyone else is late too.
Jemma's house is pleasantly warm. Skye's always gotten a sense of coziness from the Simmons household. You can even call it security, perhaps. It isn't just because her friend's there (although that's certainly a big part of it), but because the house brings back memories. Recollections of when they both made a pact to run away and ended up hiding in the closet for three hours until Mrs Simmons got a fright while searching for her misplaced vaccuum cleaner. Or the time when they tried to bake cookies for the school Christmas bake-off and ended up in giggles with frosted noses and flour-dusted hair.
This time though, it's slightly different. A mouth-watering scent drifts through the house, and Jemma's only explanation is 'dinner'.
It's not far off from Christmas now, and in honour the Simmons family are throwing an early Christmas party, something which Skye's excited and yet nervous about all in the same breath. Jemma's mom smiles at her when the two girls go to raid some snacks from the pantry, and it's then that Skye almost wishes she had a maternal figure in her weird little family. She supposes May could suffice - she's around every other day anyway -, but she's not exactly one to bake cookies and quiz her daughter about boys and schoolwork.
"You look nervous, dear," Mrs Simmons smiles kindly at her, as if to prove her point. "Fitz isn't scary, if that's what you're worried about. Nor are any of our other guests. He's a darling, honestly. Jem's taken a liking to him, that's for certain. What about you? Any friends? Or boyfriends, maybe?"
Jemma flushes quite obviously, but Skye laughs and cradles her hand around one of the mugs of steaming hot chocolate that Mrs Simmons hands out. "No boyfriends, Mrs Simmons."
And the truth is, she's not nervous. Or at least, not about meeting Fitz. If Jemma likes him, Skye's determined to be friends with him too. But she's mostly just worried about him sapping Jemma's attention. She knows it's selfish and mean and kind of childish.. but she doesn't like sharing. Best friends are hard to come by, especially ones like Jemma Simmons.
Jemma looks more than relieved when the doorbell rings, and soon they're scampering down the halls to open the door.
It's that familiar curly-haired boy that she saw briefly at Halloween. He smiles sheepishly and holding out a mishapen present. "Merry early Christmas, Jemma."
"Oh, you didn't have to, Fitz," Jemma smiles, and throws her arms around him in a hug. He looks awkward - and far too much like a little boy. Skye's not entirely sure whether to coo or scoff.
She settles for silence instead, and wonders what gift Fitz got for the Simmons'. Neither of them seems to notice her.
...
Surprisingly, Jemma's one of the stars of the party. She's constantly being whisked away to talk to some new guests and marvel at some Christmas presents. The house is packed now, guests spilling all through the rooms and people hurrying to move the decorations inside to save them from the snow that's rapidly picking up.
Finding herself alone without Jemma - after all, she doesn't know anyone here - Skye drifts to lean against the wall, simply enjoying the atmosphere. To pass time away, she looks at photos. A lot of them are of Jemma - when she was a baby, on her third birthday. Her first day at Kindergarten. Skye wishes she had some baby photos to share. But unless you count the mug-shotesque report photo from her adoption forms, there's nothing.
She's about to pluck the last famous Simmons cookie from the bowl when another hand reaches for it at the same time, and she finds Mr Jemma-Simmons's-Best-Friend Fitz looking awkward.
"Sorry." His voice is Scottish, and Skye almost smiles at the thought of Jemma brightening to find someone else like her in a country full of Americans.
"It's okay," she shrugs, and retracts her hand from the bowl. "You can have it. I get these all the time, anyway."
Fitz's eyes suddenly spark in recognition, but he doesn't take the biscuit. "You're Skye, right? Mr Coulson's daughter?"
"Yeah," Skye says slowly, frowning at Fitz. How on Earth does he know that? Oh god, Jemma hasn't made friends with a stalker, has she? "What's that to you?"
"Oh, nothing," Fitz mumbles, suddenly looking incredibly self-conscious. "It's just that he visited our school once."
That piques Skye's curiosty, and she blinks at him, suddenly interested. "Did he mention me?"
"Um, kind of. I mostly got it from Jemma, actually," Fitz admits.
"She talks about me?"
Fitz nods, and the conversation seems to grind to a halt as they sit in uncomfortable silence. His hand lingers in the bowl awkwardly, and Skye resists the uncontrollable urge to laugh.
"You know I said you could have that cookie, right?" she points out, eyeing his hand.
Fitz jerks to action immediately, looking strangely indignant. "Yeah, well-"
It's then that Jemma skips up to them, a bright smile on her face and a happy aura about her. "Everyone's so nice," she chirps, looking to each of them earnestly. "Are you guys okay?"
"Everything's going great," Skye answers, just as Fitz adds, "Yeah, good."
The two exchange a strange look, and Jemma looks bewildered. "Well.. okay."
"Here," Fitz finally draws his hand from the bowl. "Have a cookie."
Skye decides that she quite likes Fitz.
...
When everyone's gone home, and it's just her and Jemma chilling in her room - just like the good old times - Skye picks at the quilt covers of Jemma's bed, her eyes skimming across the tiny framed origami bird sat on the bedside table. Skye recognises it all too well - she still remembers the struggles of learning how to fold it right.
"I don't know what you see in him," Skye declares, splaying herself out on the bed and tilting her head to stare out the window.
Instead of taking offence, Jemma only smiles. "He's nice, Skye. Sweet, even," she insists persistently.
"He's weird," Skye responds, pulling a face. At her friend's chatising look, she sighs and props herself up on her eyebrows. "Okay, okay. I guess he's fine, I just don't see what's so interesting about him."
"It takes a while for him to warm up," Jemma replies with a nod of considerate agreement. "He hated me for the longest time. Couldn't tolerate me. You'll like him soon enough."
"You like him?" A grin sparks up, and Skye waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
Jemma throws a pillow at her, rolling her eyes. "I don't know.. he's one of those people who just kind of.. grows on you, you know?"
Skye doesn't know, but she nods innocently anyway. Jemma sees right through her (as always) but all she does is laugh. "Like you, Skye. Intolerable, but you're always there."
"Oh c'mon," Skye smirks, "You know you love me."
She accepts Jemma's rolling of eyes as a confirmation and she grins wildly again. She'd been stupid to think that their friendship could be broken so easily.
"Speaking of love," Skye starts slowly, trying to act subtle (and failing miserably), as she attempts to become incredibly interested in the state of her fingernail. "I may or may not have spoken to Triplett.."
"Skye!"
"-and I may have mentioned something about you coming along for a rematch game of bowling?"
"Oh, Skye." She's fully expecting a rejection, some excuse from Jemma to get out of it. After all, she would understand. Her friends can be rather rowdy, and she knows Jemma gets rather nervous sometimes, and she'd be completely fine with it, only she really wants everyone all to be friends, and-"
"I've promised Fitz that I would study with him that day."
Skye's features fall suddenly, but she plays it off like nothing. "Oh. That's okay, I mean-"
"-but maybe Fitz could come along?"
It's not perfect, but it's a compromise and it's good enough (even if she's not entirely sure on Cookie-Boy Fitz), so she grins and nods.
"Deal. But really, you should so ask Trip-"
"Skye! We are not having this discussion!"
"Sorry!"
But she's not, really. Not even a little bit, because the future is bright and happy and so.. cheerful, now that everything's sorted out, and-
"Shoot!" It's then that she shoots to her feet, eyes bright.
"What?" Jemma's clearly startled.
"I forgot that I had to meet up with Grant!"
Skye's so busy flying down the stairs and out the door that she misses Jemma's knowing smile. She doesn't, however, miss the teasing shout as she's leaving.
"Have fun with Grant!"
The triumphant tone is so obvious that Skye only throws an abandoned hair clip at her as she struggles to pull her boots on. "Shut up, Bambi!"
