She was picking at a sandwich that had been offered to her and reading her own diary when Agent Coulson walked in. She was ecstatic that it seemed she'd grown to be very clever. Was that Immodest to think? Probably. Her theories were brilliant, her research fascinating, but what really piqued her interest was the amount of space separated from her daily musings to gush about Skye. 'She's just lovely, she really is.', 'How does she get her hair to do that? Its so beautiful.', 'She said she likes my science talk, Fitz was offended on my behalf but she was looking at me with those eyes. I think something is wrong with me. Surely I don't feel for her….'

"Impressed?" Coulson asked, sliding into the seat on the other side of the counter and sliding the plate closer to her. "You've spent a long time reading, eat."

Jemma winced, and then forced a smile. "Oh well, you see I-"

"No more excuses, Simmons." Coulson's penetrating gaze was focused on her, and Jemma squirmed in her seat a little. "I'm not moving until you've finished that sandwich."

No, that wouldn't do at all. She couldn't very well pick it to pieces and then throw it away if she was being intensely observed by this man who honestly unnerved her very much. Jemma took a deep, shaky breath, and decided that since she was sure Fitz was working on a cure downstairs with her blood samples and she'd be fixed soon enough, that she may as well be honest. "I'm not sure I can do that," She admitted, her cheeks already heated. "I mean, according to my diary, I still have some trouble at times now. I'm apparently even more secretive In ten years."

Coulson took a moment to ansorb the information, before sighing and reaching out, grabbing the bony fingers and holding tight. "I know. I've seen you hesitate before eating certain things, but I also know that you've overcome it enough to realise you need to eat, you need to live, and Simmons, we care about you. You have people who would hate to lose you, and one of them is pacing in the lounge and worrying herself over the fact that you haven't even taken a single bite. Now, I'm not sure if you wrote about us in there, but if you did, then you know how you feel about every one of us, including Skye. That's all i'm going to say." He gave her a tight lipped smile, squeezed her hand one last time and then pulled away. "Just think about it, Jemma."

It took her forty five minutes, but she got half of it down.

…

Skye was skirting around her. She could tell because every time she came across the gorgeous brunette, she'd dissapear around a corner, or behind a door, or in one of the more ridiculous cases, behind a shelf. It was getting old fast, and Jemma found she craved the other girl's presence. It didn't help that Fitz had locked the lab doors and wouldn't let her in, proclaiming that she was too young and she could mess something up. She acted like that hadn't hurt, coming from her best friend. Just yesterday they'd been the same age and joking around together. Now she was alone.

It was when Skye fell down the stairs trying to get away from her that drove Jemma over the edge. "Oh for heaven's sake, will you stop that?!"

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything. Nope, nothing at all, have you seen Ward? I think we have a session. Right now." Skye babbled, looking around for an exit of any kind. Finding none, she sighed and met Jemma's eyes. "I'm sorry, Jem. It's just…every time I see you, I want to ask about," She waved her hand awkwardly at Jemma's face and arms, indicating the bruises "All of this, and god I don't want you to hate me when you're older you and you find out I took advantage of the situation." She chewed her lip, running a hand through her hair. Her silky, beautiful hair. Jemma wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. No, focus.

"I um, I read my diary, Skye. I've considered telling you anyway, I usually backed out because well…my life isn't-wasnt, pretty. I don't want your pity, god all I want is-" she stopped herself, mentally cursing herself for almost telling her. She'd always said what was on her mind, unless it was related to food or her mother. "Anyway, things are better now. She's, she's going to therapy, she's trying to change." It had shocked her when she'd read that particular entry, marked eight years ago, in one of her earlier diaries. She'd mainly skimmed the first three, only interested in the more recent events.

"She?" Skye seemed a little surprised, and very worried. "You mean, your mom…?" She looked sick, her eyebrows knitted together and her fists clenched and unclenched. "I'm so sorry Jemma," she reached out but again Jemma flinched away, and Skye realised suddenly why she shied away from women but didn't have a problem with any of the men on the team.

"I'm sorry too." Jemma murmered, her eyes on the floor, ashamed with herself for not being able to let Skye close. She rubbed her upper arms, an old habit, and glanced up to gage the brunette's reaction.

"It's okay. I understand, Jem." She tried to give her a reassuring smile. It almost felt like a physical ache, not being able to touch Jemma. Not being able to really comfort her. She felt completely helpless, moreso than when Jemma had contracted the chitauri virus.

"If it helps, I'm quite besotted with you." Jemma giggled nervously. She'd intended to say something more platonic, but the anxiety that the situation had forced her to think of something more striking to slice the tension. With an internal groan, she realised that was not the right thing to say, oh how embarrassed she would be later. If she remembered this, which she certainly hoped she wouldn't.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Skye was gaping at her, completely shell shocked. Jemma was just as horrified, really. What had she done? Future Jemma would strangle her, if it weren't for the massive disruption in the space time continuum that that would cause.

"What was that, Fitz?!" Jemma called loudly, leaving the bottom of the staircase to hurry to the glass doors, leaving the stunned Skye behind.

"I didn't say anything, Jem." He'd raised an eyebrow at her, and she noticed the cultures he was handling.

"What are those for?" She asked curiously, her intrigue overwhelming her embarrassment.

He grinned that blinding Leo Fitz grin. "These are the samples you collected from a river yesterday, I think that's where you got infected or affected, something like that."

"I collected them? Can I have a look?" She asked eagerly, rocking on her heels in excitement. "Oh please Fitz, I won't break anything, I swear!"

He caved in moments, rolling his eyes at her as he pushed the button for the doors, "She left a moment ago anyway." He smirked, directing her to the microscope with a soft chuckle. Her face flushed, and she reached out and swatted him.

"Oh, hush."

She spent the rest of the time observing him as he slowly inched closer to the cure, occasionally making suggestions that he would either gently dismiss or nod encouragingly. She felt rather like a child comparatively to this exceedingly clever fitz, who was for once not her equal, but her better. It upset her, not that she'd admit it.

"I believe it was an alien species of fish, there are agents hunting for it back in that awful botfly breeding ground, but all I need to do is examine the platelets in your blood, and develop an anti-serum from that. I still haven't figured out how the nip from the fish caused your age to physically change, but there's a thousand ways it could have caused your mental regression. my personal favourite would be amnesia."

"Yes, well try not to sound so bloody cheerful, Leo."

He laughed at some inside joke she must have missed, and she sighed and sat back in her seat, prepared for a long night.