this was so fun to write omg
"Skimmons - "Could you repeat that?""
disclaimed
the one where they accidentally end up in vegas
...
"Uh—" Phil stammers. "Could—uh. Could you repeat that?"
"Well, sir," Simmons murmurs. "It would seem that Skye and I got a tiny bit intoxicated while on leave and—."
From somewhere behind her, Skye yells, "We got hitched and now we're stranded here!"
Phil rubs his forehead, waves May over. This isn't the phone call he could have ever anticipated.
"Where is here, exactly?" he asks, dreading the answer.
"Ah—Vegas, sir," Simmons answers slowly. "Las Vegas."
"I thought you guys were going to Disneyland?" How the hell did they go from Anaheim to Vegas? And where did all their money go? He pulls away from the phone for a minute and whispers to May, "Can you pick them up?" She nods slowly, lips quirking up a little. Well, he thinks. I'm glad someone's amused by this.
"We—ah. We were. But the Haunted House was closed? And Nevada is really, very close—."
He doesn't need details. He really doesn't.
"May's coming for you," Phil says, cutting off Simmons's nervous rambling. "She'll be there in a few hours, so—um. Stay put."
"Yes," Simmons sighs in relief. "Of course. We're staying at the—Skye? Where are we staying?"
They must have been so drunk. So very, very drunk. Phil bites back a groan. "Uh—Simmons? Just call May with the details. And—uh—congratulations."
/
"Well," Jemma says, padding back to join Skye in bed. "He took the news rather well, considering."
When she nears, Skye reaches out to tug her in by the hand. "You know he's just a little sad he didn't get to plan the wedding," she mumbles into the pillow her face is currently smushed into. "He'll get over it."
Jemma tucks herself against Skye once again, tossing an arm lazily over her wife—wife's waist. "I think he was just shocked, really," she murmurs, leaning in to kiss the corner of Skye's mouth. "May's on her way," she adds when she leans back, settling against her own pillow.
"Mmph," Skye mumbles. "How long?"
"A few hours," Jemma slides her knee between Skye's legs, cuddling closer. "Is your hangover very bad?"
Skye blinks rapidly. "Not very," she says in a rush, leaning in to kiss Jemma, hands slipping under her shirt.
"Then would you mind explaining how you traded our plane tickets for two Elvis impersonators?" Jemma raises her eyebrows, leaning back as Skye nears her lips.
"We were drunk," Skye mumbles in lieu of an explanation. "Shit happens."
"Skye—we're stranded in Las Vegas."
"Sex first," Skye mutters. "Lecture later."
"Now those are terms that Jemma can agree with.