A/N: I didn't get a chance to respond personally to all of the reviews this time around, so if you reviewed, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! Your feedback helps me continue to write confidently and enthusiastically. :)
Not as quick an update as I was hoping; a couple passages in here gave me fits (not Fitz). ;) I will confess - this chapter is candy for Skye/Hunter fans; it contains one version of a scene (hinted at the end of the last chapter) that I've received lots of requests for...so enjoy! If you're here just for the plot, I've tried to include plenty of nuggets of plot and foreshadowing sprinkled throughout!
Coulson waited a few minutes after Hunter left before knocking. Skye greeted his entrance with a ready smile, and Coulson looked her over carefully. She was behaving normally for the most part, but his practiced eye took in the residual flush in her cheeks, the subtle but noticeable shift in her mood from when he had last seen her in the lab. She looked lighter, happier.
He was used to sussing out when agents were hiding something from him. But this unpleasant, protective twist in his gut was a novel sensation.
He turned his attention back to the matter at hand, answering her smile with a nod. "I have an update on May," he informed her casually, but Skye knew him well enough to recognize the tension in his face.
Her smile faded. "Okay."
Coulson smiled tightly, lowering himself into the chair next to hers. "She's doing fine physically. Simmons and I have been talking with her for the last hour or so, trying to determine the extent of the changes to her memory. Initially, she felt that her memories were complete, but as we dug deeper, we started to encounter some gaps beginning a few weeks after San Juan." He took a deep breath, looking at Skye steadily. "She doesn't remember what happened after the earthquake at the Party House, or what caused it. Her early mornings since we returned to the Playground have been a blank spot."
Skye blinked. "Okay," she said slowly. "What does that mean?"
Coulson made an uncertain face. "Simmons believes that whoever did this started by erasing certain memories, then began reconstructing to fill in the gaps. But they didn't get to finish, because..."
"We interrupted them," Skye realized.
Coulson nodded. He wasn't saying anything, but something in his face told Skye that there was more to the story.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "So what part aren't you telling me?"
Coulson sighed, his eyes compassionate and concerned. "The only hints we have so far about what these beings are after are the changes to May's memories. When Simmons and I began digging deeper, we expected to find a number of alterations. But we haven't. I didn't want to assume this at first, Skye, but the deeper we dig, the more we're finding that the only memories that seem to have been affected are May's memories of you."
An icy chill settled into Skye's body.
"Why would they want May to forget me?" she whispered.
Coulson shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted frankly. "But whoever we're dealing with here, their agenda has something to do with you, Skye."
Skye stiffened. She'd had her wild suspicions, but confirmation was something else entirely. "Do I need to worry about being in danger?"
Coulson's face softened, and Skye felt the strength of his concern for her. "Possibly," he replied quietly. "But we'll do everything in our power to make sure that you aren't."
Skye nodded, her face settling into stony, determined lines. "Okay."
She could handle this. Danger wasn't anything new to her, after this last year - though the reality of unknown entities having an unknown agenda that involved her was unsettling, to say the least.
Sometimes she half-wished she'd just left that damned redacted document alone.
Hunter managed to piece back together his composure on the walk from the Bus to the lab. He strolled in, looking for Fitz, but the Scottish engineer seemed to have stepped out momentarily - so Hunter waited for him, keeping his eyes stubbornly averted from the Bobbi-occupied quarantine chamber and instead surveying with feigned interest an array of confusing-looking tools and electronic components laid out on one of the counters. He had just picked up a tiny, seemingly innocuous piece of tech and was peering at it when he heard Fitz's voice behind him.
"I wouldn't touch that, if I were you."
Hunter dropped it back onto the countertop, raising his hands up away from it. "What's it do?" he asked quickly.
Fitz had a self-satisfied grin. "It's a miniaturized dendrotoxin delivery device," he explained. "We designed a bracelet like it once, but it wasn't very practical. This one, you just hold against a person's skin and press the button, and it delivers a dose roughly equivalent to a single ICER round." He smirked at Hunter. "The way you were holding it, if you'd pressed the button, I'd be picking you up off the floor. And looking for a new assistant."
Hunter raised his eyebrows, examining the diminutive piece of tech with new respect. He gestured toward the similarly-shaped, but slightly larger, gadget next to it. "Is that the same thing?"
"No," Fitz replied. "That's our new and improved global emergency beacon. It taps into whatever's left of the SHIELD satellite network to send a distress signal back to the Playground from anywhere on earth. We're still working on that one. But it should be ready for field use in the next week or two."
Hunter nodded, making an impressed face. He glanced from the devices up to Fitz, who was wearing something of a silly grin. "So what's our mission?" he asked casually.
Fitz started, looking from the gadgets on the counter over to him. "Oh. Right. This, uh..." He held up a little box-shaped piece of tech. "They found this on the cargo ramp after the Bus was boarded, by -"
"By the alien thing or whatever. Right."
"Right. And Coulson has me analyzing it to see what it does, but the electronics are tiny, and..." Fitz held up his hands, demonstrating the shaking that still plagued them from time to time.
Hunter nodded in understanding. "You need a steady pair of hands?"
"Exactly."
"Happy to oblige, mate. Just talk me through what to do. Since I'll have no idea otherwise."
Fitz grinned, beckoning Hunter to follow him out the door and down the hall to another room, where he had a work station already set up, away from the bustle of activity still going on in the lab. "Okay, now, we're gonna put it under the microscope here, and I'm going to talk you through taking a few bits of it apart..."
They worked companionably for about twenty minutes. Hunter kept glancing up at Fitz, noticing that the engineer couldn't seem to keep a smile off his face.
"You're in remarkably good spirits," he observed mildly after a while.
Fitz smiled, almost self-consciously. "I guess I am," he replied cagily.
Hunter raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. A mystery, eh? "Any particular reason?" he probed casually.
Fitz was unable to suppress the grin that came to his lips. He glanced around, as if checking to make sure no one in the empty room was listening, before confessing, "Simmons kissed me."
Hunter's eyes widened, and Fitz hastened to add, "Just a little kiss."
Hunter nodded sagely. "Ah. No full-on tonsil hockey, then?"
Fitz went beet red. "N-no, no, nothing like that," he stammered. "Just on the cheek. But it was something. I mean..." He paused, looking at Hunter uncertainly. "That is something, right?"
Hunter grimaced self-deprecatingly. "I'm not really the one to ask, mate," he deflected. "I don't know that I'd be the best person to give anyone relationship advice."
Fitz frowned, looking at him remorsefully, but Hunter shrugged it off. "Frankly, Fitz," he went on, "what you and Simmons have already has a better foundation than anything I've ever been part of." He paused. "So far, at least," he added vaguely.
He pulled his attention back to the Scot. "Just...don't muck it up by making her make all the moves, all right?"
Fitz had a lopsided smile. "I'll try not to."
They sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment, before Hunter tilted his head toward the tech dissection at his fingertips. "I do have to meet with Coulson in about half an hour, so shall we...?"
Fitz nodded, peering back through the microscope lens. After a moment, he looked up.
"Hunter?" he said lightly.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
Hunter smiled. "I wish you the best of luck with Simmons, Fitz," he replied honestly. "You deserve it."
Fitz smiled, hesitated, and bent back over the microscope.
About half an hour later, Hunter paused at the open door to Coulson's office, his heart pounding rather more loudly than he had expected it to be. He knocked awkwardly on the door frame. Coulson was seated behind his desk, looking down at something in his lap, but he glanced up at the knock, nodding toward a chair to signify that Hunter should enter and sit down.
A rush of nervousness shot through the Brit, and he suddenly felt as if he were about sixteen years old, picking up a girl for their first date and having to meet her dad. The feeling was overwhelming, and honestly, he found it a bit ridiculous.
As he drew closer, he could see what Coulson was working on. The man was polishing some kind of antique high-tech firearm, presumably from his collection - a nasty-looking thing, at that.
Ah. That intense feeling of intimidation was making more sense.
He settled into the chair, a little uneasy.
"Have you ever seen a transistorized blast gun, Agent Hunter?" Coulson asked casually, hefting the weapon so Hunter could see it more clearly. "This particular model is an early prototype - a little less stable than the version that was eventually approved for mass production. I've never fired it, but I'm told it can punch an eight to ten inch hole in almost anything."
Hunter grimaced, tilting his head and eyeing the weapon warily.
"I'm always very careful with it," Coulson went on in an affable tone, patting the gun affectionately. "With this antique tech, you can never be too sure it won't go off accidentally." He raised a meaningful eyebrow.
Hunter gulped. He didn't really think that Coulson would shoot him...of course, the man had just caught Hunter with his surrogate daughter, snogging in a doorway. All bets were off at this point.
"But enough about that." Coulson shifted gears, looking at Hunter piercingly. "Talk to me about what's going on with you and Skye."
"Ah..." Hunter hesitated. "I guess you could say that we're...romantically involved."
"I gathered that. How long has this been going on?"
"A...few weeks?"
Coulson's face was impassive. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but this would seem to be a blatant violation of SHIELD's anti-fraternization policy."
"Well," Hunter equivocated cautiously, "we're not exactly - fraternizing - if you know what I mean."
"I gather your meaning, yes." Coulson's tone was very dry. "And I'm relieved to know that you have a sense of propriety in the presence of 24-hour surveillance."
Hunter fidgeted, his jaw working.
Coulson regarded him steadily, as if sizing him up. "You know, we're very close on the heels of the end of your relationship with Bobbi."
Hunter sighed. "Which I have a feeling you knew about the whole time," he deadpanned.
Coulson nodded. "The first clue," he confirmed humorlessly, "was when you two stopped trying to claw each other's eyes out. But you also apparently don't know the locations of all the security cameras on base."
Hunter winced.
"All that, however, is beside the point." Coulson leveled a fierce gaze at Hunter. "Skye's in a fragile place right now. The last thing she needs is to have her heart broken by someone using her as a Band-Aid for his own heartbreak."
Hunter shook his head emphatically. "That's not what this is," he asserted, desperately hoping the man could see his sincerity.
Coulson arched an eyebrow. "Go on."
"Skye is...different. She's..." He searched for words, then stopped, sighed, and started over. "I'm in love with her," he admitted.
May as well throw his cards on the table. Coulson would see through any attempt at bluster, anyway. Raw honesty seemed like the best option to win him over.
Coulson absorbed Hunter's confession dispassionately. "And that's different from Bobbi how, exactly?"
"Because Skye is different from Bobbi," Hunter replied emphatically. "She's...honest. Genuine. When she kisses me, it's with everything she is, not just the tiny part of her she's carved out from belonging to something else." Realizing what he'd just said, he glanced at Coulson cautiously, unsure how the man would react to the mention of them kissing. But the Director's face was impassive, so Hunter drew a breath and went on.
"She's strong, but she's soft. She lets me in, unlike..." He cut himself off. "You know how compassionate she is. And she believes in people. She believes in you," he stressed, looking steadily at Coulson. "Honestly...she makes me want to believe in people again."
He shook his head in incredulity, his eyes drifting downward, before he raised them back to Coulson's, forcing himself to continue. "You know how it is in this business, Coulson - everyone's playing an angle. After a while, you learn you can't trust any of them. But Skye is different; she hasn't been ruined by it all. She's...like an island of sanity in the middle of chaos. She makes me actually want to trust again, and that's not an easy thing." He paused, then added quietly, with only a hint of irony, "She's almost enough to restore my faith in humanity."
Some of the ferocity seemed to leach out of Coulson's glare. Apparently - Hunter realized with a sense of relief - he had said something right.
Still, Coulson's words were measured. "If I were to permit this to continue, how would I be able to trust you not to let this relationship cloud your judgment in the field?"
Hunter regarded him unflinchingly. "I'm a professional, sir."
"A professional with something of an impulse control problem, as I recall," Coulson observed dryly, "especially when it comes to people you care about. Incidents with Isabelle Hartley and Carl Creel come to mind."
Hunter's jaw set, and he nodded once in acknowledgement.
"At the same time," Coulson continued, folding his hands on top of the desk, "those incidents demonstrate that you can be an unshakably loyal person, sometimes even to a fault."
Hunter nodded again, swallowing uncertainly. He wasn't really sure where this was going.
Coulson examined Hunter steadily, his clear blue eyes almost a little unnerving, and then his face softened, just slightly. "Can I trust that the loyalty I've observed you to carry toward others will be directed toward Skye?"
Hunter blinked, exhaling slowly in relief. "Yes, sir," he affirmed emphatically, holding Coulson's gaze.
"Good," Coulson said deliberately. "Skye needs all the allies she can get right now. Especially allies with your brand of loyalty." He let that sink in for a moment. "If, however, you ever hurt her, I will personally lock you in a room with Agent May and let her have her way with you, without fear of repercussions."
Hunter grimaced at the thought, then blinked uncertainly, his brow creasing in confusion. "Sooo...does that mean we have your blessing, then?"
"More importantly than that," Coulson replied lightly, pushing a form across the desk toward him, "once you fill this out, you'll have SHIELD's."
Hunter took the form and glanced over it quickly, then looked back at Coulson.
"Take care of her," the Director said, the words seeming to come out with some difficulty. "And if things ever get bad, get her out."
The two men looked at each other for a moment, and Hunter became aware that a new, tacit understanding had sprung up between them, rooted in their shared concern for Skye's well-being. He was getting a pass, he realized, not necessarily because Coulson was thrilled about their relationship, but because the Director valued having someone else out there who cared deeply about what happened to his protégée.
"I will," he promised solemnly.
Back in the Cage, Skye was unsuccessfully trying to distract herself from stressing by experimenting with the resonant frequencies of drinking glasses, which Fitz had acquired for her from the kitchen. When she heard the knock at the door, she recognized it as Hunter's.
"Come in!" she called out, relieved at the superior distraction.
Hunter pushed the door open and leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms folded across his body and a faint smirk on his lips.
Skye peered at him quizzically. Usually, when he came in, he was the first to cross the gap between them, and as quickly as possible. But he was playing it coy this time, for some reason.
Her lips twisted wryly as she stood up. Fine, then. She'd go to him, if that's what he was fishing for.
She was about to lean in and kiss him, when he held up a piece of paper like a wall between them. "Sorry, love," he informed her regretfully, a smile playing on his lips. "We're gonna have to make things official, if there's to be any more of that."
Skye squinted at the form, confused. "'SHIELD Employee Consensual Relationship Policy, Disclosure, and Release'... Where did you even get that?" Her eyes flicked to his, her confusion deepening. "You want to tell Coulson?"
"A bit late for that," he replied breezily, "considering Dad walked in on the end of our little...interlude earlier." He looked at her meaningfully.
Skye's jaw dropped, and Hunter saw something like panic come into her eyes. He felt a pang of consternation - he hadn't anticipated a panic response.
Skye's voice was almost a whisper. "He knows? What did he say?"
Hunter searched her eyes, trying to determine whether she was more panicked about the possibility of their relationship being forbidden or about the possibility of people knowing about it. He couldn't really tell from what she was giving him.
He drew a deep breath and, toning down the flippancy, answered her question. "He gave me the full-on protective-dad interrogation. Questioned my motives, my sincerity." Skye closed her eyes. "In the end, though, he seemed okay with it. Gave me the form and said we'd have SHIELD's blessing if we went through the proper channels."
Skye reopened her eyes, relief washing visibly over her face. Hunter, relieved by the change in her body language and expression, grinned tentatively. "Sooo..." he drawled, indicating the form, "what do you think?"
A smile blossomed across Skye's face, and Hunter's grin became more confident. "You must be good at talking your way out of trouble," Skye observed with some admiration.
"I talked you into this, didn't I?" He nudged her, and Skye laughed.
"I don't remember much talking at first," she countered, arching a coy eyebrow.
"Touché," he acknowledged, leaning in toward her with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Then he sobered. "Really, though...I just told Coulson the truth." His eyes found hers, radiating his obvious affection.
Skye felt her breath catch. "And what's that?" she replied lightly, holding his gaze.
"That you can't resist me." He grinned mischievously, and Skye thwacked him on the shoulder.
"Give me that thing," she ordered, trying to hide her own grin as she reached for the form.
He handed it over obligingly, watching her with fondness as she hunted down a pen, scanned the policy, and signed on the dotted line.
"Your turn," she directed, holding the pen out to him.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied cheekily. He added his signature below hers, then straightened up to look at her with a half-smile. "That's done." He paused, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "So...does this make us Facebook official now?"
Skye shook her head in amusement, smiling at him. "Have you ever even been on Facebook?"
"Nope," he answered with mock contrition. "It never really worked well with the whole 'covert operations' lifestyle."
Skye moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he grinned, sliding his hands around her waist to pull her closer. "I wouldn't mind being 'Facebook official' with you," Skye admitted quietly.
"S'that right?" Hunter mumbled with surprise, studying her seriously. "You want to go public?"
She tilted her head. "What do you think?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment, and Skye held her breath. Noticing her worried expression, he hastened to assure her, "Don't get me wrong; I'd love to be the object of every man's envy around here, once they realize how obscenely lucky I am." He squeezed his hands on her waist lightly, and Skye grinned up at him. "But I don't know that it would be best for everyone to know." He grimaced. "Wouldn't want Coulson to have to field accusations of nepotism or anything like that."
Skye nodded slowly. "Maybe just our core team?" she suggested. "I mean - they're basically family. I hate hiding things from them." She hesitated. "But maybe we should wait on telling May, until she starts to remember a little more."
"In other words, you want to tell Fitz," Hunter observed with a grin. "I'd be fine with that."
Skye smirked, pulling him in for a kiss, and they softened into each other, Hunter's forehead crinkling with emotion.
Skye's laptop bleeped, and she turned to level an accusatory glare at it. "Great timing, as usual," she muttered.
The call was from Fitz. Skye glanced up at Hunter, who tipped his head questioningly toward the door, and she shook her head, sitting down in one of the chairs and motioning for him to sit in the other. "Let's just tell him," she said.
Hunter bobbed his head, acquiescing.
Skye hit the space bar, and an obviously agitated Fitz popped up on the screen. "Skye, Coulson's called an emergency briefing to -" His eyes took in Hunter, sitting beside Skye. "Hunter? What are you doing in there?"
"Oh, we're together," Hunter replied offhandedly, putting his arm around Skye, and Fitz's eyes bugged out of his head.
But Skye didn't give him any time to process. "An emergency briefing? What's going on?"
Fitz opened and shut his mouth a few times, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Uh...the, uh..." He swallowed, then seemed to pull it together, his eyes settling on Skye. "The, uh, the results of all the tests are back. And there are a few things that are very peculiar. And Coulson wants you in on the discussion. And..." He glanced back over at Hunter. "I suppose you can come, too?"
Hunter's jaw tightened as he glanced over at Skye. "Hopefully Dad won't mind me tagging along."
A/N: Answers are coming. And I love hearing from my readers! Positive feedback and constructive criticism (and ideas!) float my boat! I can't always use all the ideas, with what I already have planned, but I'll incorporate what I can! :)