Fitz finished setting up the contraption - an innocuous-looking small metal base which kind of resembled a hot plate - on the table in the Cage and stepped back to admire it. "I'm glad someone's getting to use this," he said. "The M.O.W.S.E. - Mobile One-Way Subject Enclosure. Simmons and I designed it as, uh, a method for containing lab rats while we tested out the effects of sound waves on them. It, uh, it keeps them in, but allows the waves to pass through."

"Sort of a one-way barrier?" Skye ventured.

"Yup. That's it exactly," he said with a smile, fiddling with a couple of knobs on the back side of the machine. "Things can go in, but not come out."

Skye watched him work, smiling faintly. His speech was better than it had been the other day. "Things seem better, between you and Simmons," she observed gently.

Fitz nodded, with a restrained smile. "I think we're finally starting to work things out," he replied. "We're not - well, I don't think we really know what we are. But at least we're friends again." He finished with the hot-plate contraption and straightened up. "I think that, uh...that Mack leaving was the, uh..." He squeezed his eyes shut, snapping his fingers.

"The catalyst?" Skye ventured.

"That's it. The catalyst that forced us really to talk about things. I was kind of a mess, and -"

"- and you two were practically the only people still here -"

Fitz nodded. "We couldn't keep avoiding each other."

Skye smiled. "Well, I'm glad."

Fitz's answering smile was boyish, almost shy, and Skye thought it was the lightest she'd seen him look in a long time. "Yeah, me too."

They were quiet for a minute, looking at each other. "I guess maybe there's some hope in all this craziness, huh?" Skye said, the sentiment genuine beneath her half-joking tone.

Fitz looked at her sympathetically, and she knew he wasn't talking about himself and Simmons when he answered, "Definitely."

Skye cracked a hesitant smile, surveying the equipment on the table. "Thanks for all of this."

"Absolutely," Fitz replied, prompted back into action. He took a glass test tube from a reinforced case, placed it on the base of the contraption, and pressed one of the machine's two buttons. "That button brings up the one-way barrier," he explained. "It's invisible, so you have to trust that it's working. The light turns on, so you know it's active."

Skye nodded, watching carefully.

Fitz pressed the other button. "This one brings the barrier down. It's already calibrated, so you shouldn't have to adjust settings." He surveyed the machine, wincing. "Make sure you don't stick your fingers in while the light's on. They'll go in, but they won't come out. That could definitely hurt."

Skye grimaced. "Got it."

"I'll be watching," Fitz said with a small grin. "Have fun."

Skye mustered up an answering grin as he left. She was excited to be testing out the limits of her control, and to be looking at the possibility of getting out of here. At the same time, she was nervous - because, honestly, if this didn't work, she really thought she might lose her mind.

Skye pressed the button to activate the barrier around the test tube and dialed up Simmons on FACE.

"Ready?" she asked when the biochemist's smiling face popped up on the screen.

"Let 'er rip!" Simmons replies, uncharacteristically giddy. She seemed nearly as excited as Skye was. Of course, Skye reminded herself. It was science, after all.

Skye took a deep breath and closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into those unpleasant places in her psyche that always seemed to trigger the vibrations. Today, it was the memory of Cal punching Coulson repeatedly that rose to the surface first. Skye stiffened, opening her eyes, then embraced the emotions, watching the numbers on the vibration meter climb along with her heart rate.

"I'm reading those vibrations in the room," Simmons spoke up encouragingly. "Now see if you can target them."

Skye nodded, maintaining the adrenaline burning through her as she shifted her focus to the glass test tube inside the barrier. She watched with a sense of awe as it began to tremble, then to rattle. "Holy crap," she whispered.

"Vibration levels in the room are falling," Simmons informed her carefully, not wanting to break her focus. "It looks like all the energy is going right where you're directing it."

"This is wild," Skye murmured under her breath. "It feels like telekinesis. Like Matilda or something. Did you ever read that?"

"Except that there's a very rational, scientific explanation," Simmons corrected her. "You're generating waves of vibrations that you're directing toward the test tube."

"With my mind," Skye whispered.

Honestly...it was kind of cool.

There was a pause, the only sound the sharp tinkle of the test tube moving around on the metal base and bumping up against the one-way barrier.

"It's nice that the test tube isn't breaking," Simmons mused. "I sent several along, in case, but perhaps I didn't need to." She tapped her finger thoughtfully. "Can you try varying the intensity of the vibrations?" she suggested.

"Hmm?" Skye was so entranced watching the test tube skitter around that it took her a moment to register what Simmons had said. "Yeah. Sure. Hang on..."

It was actually a little harder than Skye expected. She was used to bringing the intensity down, not ramping it up, and stressing herself out was a little tricky when she was actually feeling pretty encouraged. But she dug deep, thinking about Fitz and his faltering words, and how Mack's abandonment had made it so much worse.

By this time, she'd lost her focus on the test tube, and everything in the room was starting to rattle. She did her best to maintain the righteous indignation flaring in her chest while turning her attention back to the little piece of glassware, and watched with amazement as it began to shiver, then to vibrate more and more sharply.

"Room levels are falling again," she vaguely heard Simmons report.

She zeroed in on the test tube, burning its image into her mind, channeling all her pent-up anger and grief over Fitz into it. To her alarm, she began to realize that in digging deep for those emotions, she was unlocking more than she really meant to. Ward, the cause of Fitz's anguish, came back to mind, and the smug expression he'd worn when he'd come to kidnap her off the plane - and she found herself shuddering under a wave of emotion she could no longer quite control. The vague sense of panic beginning to creep over her only exacerbated the situation.

She thought fleetingly of the sensitive equipment on the table in front of her, then, as it started to shimmy, desperately shifted her focus back to the test tube, trying to direct all the force of her vibrations into the safest possible place.

The tube's rattling grew sharper and sharper until abruptly it shattered, flinging fragments of glass up against the invisible barrier. Skye reflexively closed her eyes and covered her face, but the barrier held; the shards bounced off and settled down onto the base of the contraption.

Skye peeked through her fingers at it, breathing unevenly. The shock of seeing the tube break had disrupted her focus enough that now only a dull rattle filled the room, so she took a few ragged deep breaths, bringing her heart rate down, trying to calm the trembling in her body as well as that in the air.

From the laptop came Simmons' voice. "That level of control is astonishing," she observed, obviously impressed.

Skye shook her head. "That really didn't feel very controlled."

Skye looked up from her laptop, stretching her neck before rubbing her eyes, which were starting to wig out a little after hours of staring at the screen. She was almost there with the algorithm program for the communications team, the one that would (hopefully) detect information that was coming from their mysterious attackers. And it was only - she glanced at the clock on her laptop - 0030. Not too bad. If she finished soon, she'd still get about three hours of sleep before she had to be up for tai chi.

She stifled a groan. There was way too much going on. She'd wanted to continue working with the test tubes and vibrations this afternoon, but the algorithm had taken precedence. Oh well. Once she finished this, she'd be able to get back to that.

Skye drained her bottle of water, then set the bottle back down on the table, looking at it thoughtfully. She closed her eyes, mustering up some adrenaline, and reopened them to focus on the bottle, watching with a strange sense of satisfaction as it began to jiggle around on the tabletop.

She let the vibrations die down, then scooped two more empty bottles out of the little bin she used for recycling. She set them up in a row on the table, then took a moment to access her emotions, directing the ensuing vibrations toward the bottle on the left. Once it began to move, she switched her focus, aiming at the center bottle. To her satisfaction, the bottle on the left stilled as the middle one began to shimmy.

She had to admit...this was cool. It still didn't solve the problem of uncontrollable emotions and vibrations she couldn't turn off...but it was cool.

She vibrated each bottle in turn, then began switching back and forth amongst them, trying to see how quickly and accurately she could shift targets. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't all that difficult.

As she practiced, Skye began to notice something. It felt almost like a low-level buzz in her brain, which modulated slightly every time she changed targets. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes to focus in on the sensation.

It was bizarre - like a crackling of electricity, only so subtle that she could barely grasp it - like one of those dog whistles that you knew you could feel, even though you couldn't exactly hear it.

Curiously, she brought her heart rate down a little, noticing that the buzzing changed subtly as the sound of rattling in the room decreased. Excitement shot through her at the connection, and both the rattling and the buzz intensified in response.

Her focus slipped, and she cursed under her breath. It was hard, trying to concentrate on the memories, the emotions, that strange buzzing sensation, all at once.

She took a couple of cleansing breaths and began again, tapping into her anger at her father, watching the numbers on the vibration meter climb. She shut her eyes and went inside, singling out that dog-whistle feeling until she had a strong sense of it. Experimentally, she tried to suppress it.

The rattling in the room stopped.

Skye's eyes flew open in surprise. The vibration meter was standing at a solid zero, even though her heart rate was still elevated, stress hormones still coursing through her veins. Somehow, her elevated physiological state was, for the first time since Puerto Rico, not triggering vibrations.

She closed her eyes again, looking for that dog-whistle feeling, and tried to turn it on. Falteringly, the items in the room began again to shake.

She suppressed it, and they stopped.

Wow, she thought to herself in astonishment. I might actually be getting somewhere.

The alarm crept into her consciousness brutally early that next morning, dragging her out of heavy sleep that felt like being a mile underwater. After playing with her powers...she was starting to refer to them unconsciously as her powers, instead of as some kind of uncontrollable handicap...for another hour or so, she'd forced herself to finish up the work on the screening program for intel before collapsing onto her bed and passing out.

Tai chi that morning felt like she was doing it a mile underwater. May was kind enough not to mention it, probably noticing how dark the circles under her eyes were.

Skye flopped into the chair after her workout, downing half a bottle of water before the knock on the door came.

She stiffened.

Crap.

Hunter.

"Come in," she called without getting up.

The door swung open, and she didn't want to look at first, not knowing or trusting what kind of effect seeing him would have on her. But she realized how childish it would be to sit there and ignore his presence, so she grabbed the thumb drive off the table and walked over to him.

"Hi," she mumbled, meeting his eyes for a quick second before looking away.

It was long enough to realize that 24 hours had not been a sufficient period of time for cooling down. Her knees went gooey, and her heart rate shot up. She mercilessly tamped it back down.

"Hi," he replied, equally awkwardly. He offered her the tub of water, which she took before handing him the thumb drive.

"This is the program for screening intel, for Coulson," she explained succinctly. "Please give it to him at the briefing. I'll explain to him how to use it."

"Okay," he replied simply. She could tell he was looking at her, maybe even trying to catch her gaze again, but she just couldn't let herself go there.

"Thanks," she said, with a tone that indicated she was ending the conversation.

"Yeah," he answered before she closed the door, quickly enough to be decisive, but slowly enough not to be completely rude.

Skye sighed. Oh, man. This was gonna suck.

Some time that afternoon, and a few more painfully awkward encounters later - breakfast, lunch, and an excruciating briefing where he tried not to notice how hard she tried not to look at him - Hunter was on the brink of losing his mind. He didn't do this kind of simmering awkward tension thing very well, especially when he had the keen sense of being at fault. It was probably only his keen sense of being at fault, in fact, that kept him from exploding in frustration.

So when he came to pick up Skye's lunch dishes, he set them down on the floor in the hallway, then stuck his foot in the door when she moved to close it on him.

She was surprised into looking directly at him.

"Look," he began, gently but firmly, "I know you don't want to talk about it, and that's fine - you don't have to. But...I have something I need to say, and then I promise I'll never bring it up again."

Skye's lips tightened, and her eyes darted away. "Fine." She steeled herself for whatever it was. It didn't matter. She'd survive.

"I'm sorry about what happened the other night," he said quietly. "I feel like I...took advantage of you, when you were in a vulnerable place. I want you to know that wasn't my intention, and that you don't have to worry about it happening again."

Skye's jaw dropped slightly as her eyes flew to his, her thoughts a muddle of surprise, confusion, and dismay.

They must have been written across her face as well, as Hunter seemed confused by her reaction. "What is it?" he asked softly.

Words came slowly. "I didn't - you thought I thought that?"

He looked taken aback, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Well, I...I guess I don't know, exactly, since we haven't talked about it. But, from how uncomfortable it seems to've made you, and how forcefully you told me to leave, I...I guess I just assumed."

Skye blinked. "I was trying to protect you!" she said vehemently. "I had no idea what was happening, or whether you were in danger..."

Hunter's puzzlement began to fade as he started to put the pieces together.

"I should be apologizing to you!" Skye concluded miserably, her pained expression betraying her sense of shame.

That surprised him. "Wait - what?"

"I hurt you, and..." She trailed off, just looking at him.

All of a sudden, it made sense. And as he watched Skye's expression clear, he could tell it was making sense to her, too.

"So...let me get this straight," he said quietly, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

She nodded.

"We're both trying to apologize for something the other person wasn't upset about?"

Skye found herself grinning faintly in spite of herself. "I guess so."

One corner of his mouth quirked in answering amusement. They looked at each other for a moment, humor slowly fading into seriousness.

"What was that, the other night?" Skye asked softly.

Hunter held her gaze steadily, his eyes unexpectedly vulnerable. "I guess that's up to you," he said quietly. "Could just be an impulsive thing that we chalk up to crazy emotions and don't talk about any more." Skye's breath hitched as he paused, and she hoped he hadn't exhausted the possible options.

He hadn't. "Or," he went on slowly, "it could've been the beginning of something." His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes were searching hers.

"Would you want that?" Skye forced herself to ask calmly, feeling a little bit breathless.

"I would," he confirmed quietly, and his eyes held a hint of that same intensity she'd seen the other night, as if he were just barely keeping it in check.

She let his words sink in. "Really?" she whispered, as incredulity and insecurity rose up to choke her happiness. "Even with everything...?" She waved around at the interior of the Cage.

His face softened, his brow furrowing as he shook his head. "None of this defines you," he said firmly.

"But it does! Of course it does," Skye contradicted fiercely, tears springing to her eyes. "How can it not? I don't even know - what I am. I can't even leave this room."

"That's temporary," Hunter replied with quiet assurance. "You're already figuring out what you need to get you out of here. Between you and Fitz and Simmons, it can't be long now." He took a deep breath, as if working up the courage to say what he was going to say. "But what defines you - that's different. It's the compassion to break into tears over Trip's mum, the decency to comfort a teammate who to all intents and purposes looked like a traitor. It's the audacity to hack security camera footage to get the answers nobody's giving you." He let slip an affectionate grin, and the words started to come faster. "It's the courage to knock yourself out with an ICER and subject yourself to 24-hour surveillance locked in a windowless room to protect the people you care about. It's the ability to still believe for good in people, still hope, after you've seen the worst of humanity." His voice was trembling a little, and he paused, surprised at how deeply what he was saying affected him. These were the things he'd noticed about Skye, that had drawn him to her, even from the beginning of all of this.

His thoughts were interrupted by the realization that a tear was trailing down Skye's cheek. Without thinking, he reached out to brush it away, and she closed her eyes briefly at his touch.

"Besides," he added, tenderly but wryly, "Simmons did say you're still mostly human."

From anyone else, and under any other circumstances, that might have still hurt. But Skye found herself laughing instead, even as she shot him a dirty look. Hunter grinned at her, his hand still on her cheek, and they looked at each other for a wondering moment.

"So," Hunter said quietly, holding her gaze, "yeah, I'd like for that to've meant something, the other night."

Skye just looked at him for a moment, then impulsively stepped forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly and burying her face in his neck. His arms came up around her firmly, like a wall of protection.

"I guess I'll take that as a 'Me too'?" he joked.

Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter, and Hunter grinned, raising a tentative hand to stroke her hair. Skye relaxed into him, drinking in the safety and reassurance of being in his arms.

"Yeah," she said after a moment. "Yeah, that's a 'Me too'."

"I gathered that," he rumbled. She felt the words vibrating through his chest, his fingers brushing through her hair. The faintly musky scent of him tickled her nose, and Skye's senses were suddenly heightened, aware of the feeling of his body pressed against hers, the warmth of his skin where her cheek touched his neck. She exhaled slowly, willing herself to stay mellow and not start making things shake.

"How is this gonna work?" she asked in a subdued tone. "I mean, I'm stuck in here, and you're not supposed to come in. You probably shouldn't have even been here this long already."

"I know," he answered softly, tightening both arms around her securely. "It'll be different. But kind of like a long-distance relationship, I s'pose. Just until we get you out of here." He rested his head on hers as a note of irony crept into his voice. "Let's hope this whole superpowers training thing works quickly."

Skye snickered, his humor a relief from the anxiety she felt over the training. "As if I needed any more motivation." She pulled back from his embrace to shoot him an utterly fake glare.

Hunter grinned confidently, leaning in to bump his forehead gently against hers as he held her close. His tone was teasing. "Yeah, not only are there showers and daylight and a relief from incessant cabin fever out here...now there's also me."

Skye pretended to think for a minute. "I still think the shower sounds the best." She grinned wickedly as he reeled back, feigning offense.

"What?" His mock confusion elicited a genuine laugh from her, and Hunter smiled. He was pretty sure he could happily spend a whole day just making her laugh like that.

He searched her eyes, lifting his eyebrows in a question. Skye wasn't sure what he was asking until he bent in to kiss her, his lips meeting hers ever so gently. Skye felt her heart rate spike all the same and took a deep breath to bring it down before softening into and slightly deepening the kiss.

Hunter broke off, keeping things brief, but the way his mouth hovered just above hers for a beat, his breath catching, made it clear that his restraint arose from necessity rather than preference.

"Consider that a promise," he said huskily, pulling her in against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she murmured.

"You've no idea how much I wish the same thing," he replied, his voice rough. "Or that you could come with me. Train fast, okay?"

She lifted her head to smile at him. "I'll do my best."

Hunter's lips curved into a grin. He kissed her firmly on the forehead before acknowledging reluctantly, "I should probably be going."

Skye nodded. "FACE me?" she asked.

"FAFCAE," he muttered, then winked, enjoying Skye's peal of laughter before he went through the doorway and pulled the door closed behind him.

Skye couldn't wipe the silly grin off her face.

Somewhere on the other side of the world, in an abandoned warehouse, a figure sat hunched over a laptop at a small table. He glanced up, reaching for the peculiar-looking gun on the table as the door of the warehouse screeched open; then, seeing a tall man with sunglasses walk in, he relaxed.

Sunglasses came over to join him. "Any luck?"

The shorter man shrugged. "The entire inventory's on the Internet now. We can pick whatever we want."

Sunglasses frowned. "It needs to be something significant enough to draw them out."

The man at the computer scrolled quickly through several pages of inventory listings. "This one looks promising. Plasma particle beam, originally discovered in Peru just a year and a half ago. Capable of cutting through...essentially anything. Current location: unknown. Looks like they lost it when the Fridge went down."

A satisfied smile played on Sunglasses' lips. "That's a prize I'm sure they don't want falling into the wrong hands. Put out the bait."

"What region do you want me to target?"

Sunglasses' brow creased. "We haven't had much luck with the Caribbean and surrounding areas. If I were an underground organization, I might not stray too far from my roots. Let's try the Eastern Seaboard."

"Will do." The short man began tapping away at the keyboard. After a few minutes, he looked over at the other man with a smirk. "You can take those sunglasses off now that you're inside. You look ridiculous."

A/N: I will stay away from spoilers in my author's notes, and will probably only incorporate little things, if anything, from canon in the back half of season 2 (I have a pretty clear idea already of where this story is going, so I'll only incorporate things if they make sense) - but I have to say, there's been a fair amount of Hunter-whumping on the show lately, and it's breaking my heart. (You may have noticed that I am a fan of his.) I may have made his scene with Skye excessively sweet as a result, because someone seriously needs to give that man a hug. Let me know if it's TOO sweet. And anything else you think about this story/chapter! I love reviews and feedback from my readers... ;)