Skye awoke with a start, head shooting up. She'd remembered what'd happened. In her drunken-off-lack-of-sleep state, she hadn't really cared about looking like a fool. Now she sure as hell did.
Skye, you idiot, she thought.
She still couldn't quite understand why she acted so stupidly around Jemma. She couldn't understand why she was so incredibly contented around her.
Because we're friends. That's what being around a friend is like.
But how could she know for sure? Being part of Rising Tide and an orphan tossed around in The System hadn't made for the best opportunity to have friends. She'd had Miles. But now that name left a bitter taste in her mouth. Miles was good enough. She thought that was what being in love felt like.
But she remembered the soft tin sound of Jemma's laughter. The way the corners of her eyes and mouth crinkled along with her scrunching nose when she smiled. She remembered the angelic feathery brush of her perfect golden-brown hair. The delicate feeling of her shoulders moving beneath her outstretched arm. She remembered the feel of her skin. The light graze of her nails on her arm as they clutched close to each other. Most of all she was remembering the purity radiating from her brown eyes. The irises seemed so much more than brown. They seemed to dazzle with complexity and be filled with rays of honey light.
Apparently, being with Miles hadn't been love and care. It was raw desperation. She barely could remember the little details about him.
A conflicted sigh escaped her lips. Jemma was a friend. Family. They lived together on a closed-in plane for months. That was why she made her feel that way. It had to be.
Did Fitz, May, or Coulson make her feel that way though?
Well of course not May. She was stoic and serious. Not at all anyone, especially her sarcastic self, could hang around. And Coulson was a father to her. Another adoptive parent, one she trusted.
Fitz was great company, and funny, but she never picked up on small things about him.
Not like Simmons probably does.
No. Why was she thinking that. There was no reason to be jealous or bitter. She was just confused. And frustrated.
Did Ward make her feel that way? He was handsome, sure, but what else did she know about him?
The fleeting kiss they'd shared was nice. Skye sometimes needed someone to show emotion to. She thought he'd die. She was being nice. Who was she kidding? And after that? She wasn't sure. Maybe she was just impulsive.
It could work though, a stray thought whispered to her, eliciting a smile.
A yawn shattered her thoughts. She suddenly realized, with a pang, that Simmons was no longer curled up beside her.
And she had a blanket, a pillow, was stretched out on the couch, and had been staring at the ceiling for the past five minutes.
Jemma must have not wanted to wake her last night, she thought guiltily.
Raising her body slightly, she craned her neck to look to where the tired noise came from, and was greeted with the sight of Jemma dozing on the armchair next to her, her dainty hands rested unobtrusively below her cheek, and her golden-brown hair was strewn messily over her face. She still looked like an angel, pale face radiating with the soft glow like that of the moon.
Suddenly tantalizing thoughts of being with Ward were forgotten.
Maybe I just don't need a relationship. Maybe my stupid brain's just trying to tell me: who needs idiot guys when you can hang out with your friend…. Your friend that is a girl… Your girlfriend.
Why was her stupid brain thinking of other words for it? Maybe Jemma could explain the science behind it.
Stretching, she pushed herself upright, feet hitting the floor. Ugh. It was cold without the blanket. And without Jemma.
Rubbing the crust of sleep from her eyes, wrapped the blanket around herself and stood up sluggishly. Maybe some caffeine would help.
Maybe caffiene would at least keep her awake to watch more Doctor Who. She understood why Jemma was so obsessed with it now that she was too.
Maybe we don't have nothing in common after all, she thought with a grin, remembering what Jemma once said to her after she'd been de-hospitalized.
Jemma had been nice enough to make sure she was comfortable with a blanket and such and had secluded herself to the small chair. Skye figured it was only fair to do something nice in return.
Maybe she could fix up breakfast for both of them... What was that tea Jemma always drank? Herbal something? With honey?
With a small shrug to herself, Skye set off on her task. She wasn't the best cook, nor the most organized, and was certainly one to get easily side-tracked. But that was okay. She wanted to show Jemma she was grateful, and so long as she got the job done eventually, there was nothing to worry about.
When a flustered Fitz came in to find her bustling around the kitchen, she hadn't even looked his way. Fitz stopped inquisitively for a moment, before, pink-faced, continuing.
"Hey, Skye," he said slowly. "Have you seen Simmons?"
"Hmm?" She glanced up, hair falling in her face. "Yeah. In the T.V. room thing on the armchair. She's sleeping though. May not wanna bother her," she huffed as she finished refilling her ceramic mug with coffee once more and taking a gulp.
"Why's she sleeping in there?"
"We were watching Doctor Who and we fell asleep," came the muttered reply.
The last part seemed to confuse Fitz, but with a pause and a shake of his head, he disregarded the notion of abnormalities.
In no time his face lit up, blue eyes widening happily.
"What episode are you on?"
"Just finished the christmas episode of season one. About to start season two."
"Nice," he said enthusiastically. "I liked Nine though. A lot. You'll love Ten though. He's the best."
"So I've heard," Skye smirked, thinking about Jemma excitedly explaining each Doctor to her in incredible detail, bouncing with excitement and reassuring her that she'd grow to love Ten even more than anyone, etcetera.
"When Rose kissed Nine though," he stated, eyebrows raising dramatically.
"Yes," she enthused, drawing out the word eagerly. "That was perfection."
"Maybe I could watch with you and Jemma sometime! I'm always up for Doctor Who," he stated cheekily.
"Oh, yeah, totally," she agreed, prize smile only faltering when he turned around and left the room, shouting something about going back to work and finding Jemma later.
What was that pang? Why did that put a weight in her stomach. She should be happy to spend time with more friends. What happened to, "the more the merrier?"
Grunting, she put away the griddle and plopped her freshly made pancakes onto two plates, drenching each with syrup before carrying them clumsily back to the living room.
Satisfied to still find Jemma where she left her, she walked over to her, setting her own plate down on the coffee table, along with her mug of coffee and the cup of tea she'd made for Jemma.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she whispered, rubbing Jemma's arm, shaking her gently to rouse her.
"Skye? Mmph, I recall it was you who couldn't stay awake last night." She groaned, mock grumpiness obliterating her features.
Her eyes snapped open, however, at the sight of the pancakes.
Skye chuckled, "well now I've seemed to have gotten your attention."
"Yeah. Pancakes"
Hmmph, Jemma wasn't a morning person, huh? She'd expected the energetic biochemist to be used to waking up early on tight schedules, but apparently she was no more awake because of it. Nonetheless, remembering this was Jemma she was talking about, she figured it would take her about ten minutes, tops, for her to get back the usual spring in her step.
Eyes cracking open lazily, Jemma groaned and erected her posture, sitting up.
"Thanks, Skye," she said groggily. "...You didn't have to do that for me, breakfast..." Came the continuance as a halfhearted statement.
Skye rolled her eyes with a chuckle, brushing hair from her eyes and plopping down on the couch beside her.
Jemma sat up, practically dragging her own limbs after her to reach the pancakes, while Skye watched in amusement, picking her own plate up so it rested on her lap.
Cutting a forkful and stuffing it in her mouth as an excuse not to be the first one to strike up a conversation, she gazed at Jemma intently. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for. It was something about the british woman's presence that made her excited but anxious.
That didn't mean anything, did it?
Nope, as far as Skye was concerned, she was totally straight. Her musings from this morning had already become nearly forgotten, for the normal progression of life after that had been, well, normal. Therefore she was normal. She had to be. Everything was the same, right? Things can't change in a day, could they?
Well, her life hadalready changed in a single day before: she was kidnapped by S.H.I.E.L.D. after being part of Rising Tide all her life and was rushed into life as part of a government agency she once had detested. But that was different. Besides, a life changing revelation couldn't happen twice.
She pushed away the thoughts, realising she was becoming doubtful again, and hurriedly ate her breakfast in determined silence while Jemma cut her pancakes up into neat squares.
A cute little laugh broke her concentration.
"What?" Skye defended.
"You're glaring at your breakfast," Jemma stated matter-of-factly. "Have the pancakes done something to offend you?" she asked, a teasing glint in her crinkled eyes.
"N-no," she stumbled. "Just thinking is all."
Jemma softened, head tilting gently to the side. "Care to elaborate upon what it is you're thinking about?"
Skye flinched.
"No."
Jemma's face fell, eyes drifting to her own lap, startled. "Oh."
Skye already felt badly for her brash reply. She hadn't meant to sound angry.
She had been scared. Scared to open up.
"Well, I, um, apologize if I was prying," she continued, solemnly poking at her pancakes with her fork. "I, well, let me know if you need help or anything. Um, sorry."
Her expression was unreadable, and wasn't quite meeting Skye's gaze.
Skye put down her fork, food forgotten. She wanted to apologize, but, for once, she was at a loss for words. Give her some bad guy and she'd have a comeback; she'd be able to talk them to death, in fact. Give her a sad Jemma Simmons and she'd have her heart ache and feel as if she was completely helpless about everything.
Jemma seemed to compose herself quickly, however, resuming to eat her breakfast. She probably didn't want her friend to feel badly.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jemma , finding something to break the silence, spoke. "Hey, since we're in here anyway, do you want to start season two? Y'know, only if you want to..."
"Of course," she replied quickly, grinning at the opportunity to make right her earlier attitude.
Jemma smiled, reluctant relief crossing her face.
They finished their pancakes, and Jemma had relocated herself to a spot beside Skye on the couch, laughing and intently watching the episode. They'd begun a game of poking each other's sides when either of them weren't looking in an attempt to make each other laugh more.
Who knew the serious Jemma Simmons could be such a silly companion once one got to know her.
Maybe that's why she and Fitz were such a good pair.
There was that spite rising in her again, like an ugly beast rearing its foul head within her. With a playful poke in the side, she laughed and the brief feeling dissipated once more, going back to rest.
Skye scowled at the scientist accusingly, mocking exasperation. "Jemma, c'mon, I wanna actually pay attention to the show," she whined.
"Fine," Jemma pouted exaggeratedly, coming to rest her head peacefully at Skye's shoulder.
Skye froze, but quickly relaxed into the touch again.
The episode was almost over, and it was so peaceful. Maybe if she just reach over, she could hold Jemma's hand like they did last night… Maybe she would gather the courage to do so just before the episode ended. Y'know, a nice end to a pleasant breakfast. Hmm, who knew pancakes would lead to such a wonderful time. Yep, she had a newfound appreciation of pancakes.
She wanted to reach over so badly. Maybe I'll wait a bit longer.
Suddenly Coulson poked his head into the room.
"Simmons. Skye. We have a new mission. We're meeting by the garage. Hanger 56."
God damnit.She just hadto wait.
"Skye, you can head off now; get the others," he continued. "Simmons, you're with me. Fitz and Triplett need help with something real quick."
Disappointment was swelling through Skye. Clenching her jaw, she stopped herself from asking to come with Simmons or making up an excuse to. Eyes downcast, she shoved her plate onto the table with a loud thunk and abruptly stood, complying wordlessly. She met Jemma's gaze for a brief moment, looking away before they could really read each other's expressions.
She brushed past Coulson.
She wanted to spend more time with Jemma.
Enough, Skye, she berated. I can spend time with her later.
Coulson left the room as well and walked down the other corridor.
With a sting of guilt Skye realized just how little she and Jemma had really gotten to talk to each other about anything but the present. She loved spending time with her. This was one of the best mornings she'd ever had, albeit being cut short… but she wanted more time to talk with her… get to know the real Jemma.
"Skye," came a tremulous voice.
Skye turned.
Jemma was just clicking off the T.V. She opened her mouth and closed it again, as if wondering what she had even intended on saying.
"See you soon," she decided on lamely. "We can continue our marathon later?" Jemma smiled faintly.
Skye laughed. "Yeah. Definitely," she smiled with earnestly. The smile had come more easily than she thought It would.
"Oh, and thank you for the breakfast as well, Skye," Jemma added softly.
Skye looked away with a flush of pink on her face. "No problem."
As she turned away and began walking she felt a contented hum buzzing through her. There'd be plenty of time to get to know the girl. She was her best friend she'd ever had already…
This time her smile never truly faded.
