SUMMARY: In which Jemma Simmons finds Skye in a very compromising situation. "Skye, are you drunk?"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A short, sweet chapter of general good times and camaraderie. Fun fact, I originally wrote this entire chapter with May instead of Simmons, but scrapped it and ended up with this instead. This prompt was given to me by a lovely guest in the reviews some time ago, but I've only just gotten up to it. Honestly, I have about a million prompt ideas for this story, that I want to get through. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER NINE: Intoxication and Carrots
It's late at night when Jemma Simmons finally finds Skye. The younger woman is stumbling outside, with a bottle gripped tightly in her hand. She smiles upon seeing Simmons.
"Simmons! Good to see you here," she waves wildly at Simmons, a grin on her lips.
Simmons storms over to her quickly, taking in Skye's position and the drink in her hand. "The whole team has been looking for you, Skye! You can't just go sneaking off in the middle of the night without warning anyone, and- wait, Skye, are you drunk?"
"Me? Drunk? You know me, Simmons. Not a drop has passed my lips, I swear." But even as Skye says the words, Simmons can detect the slur that is showing through in the hacker's words, and she frowns disapprovingly at Skye, pairing it with a suspicious narrowing of eyes.
"Skye, you have a responsibility to this team, and SHIELD. You can't just be running off to get intoxicated," she admonishes in an appalled tone, reaching over to snatch the bottle from her grasp.
"Hey! It was only one drink."
"One drink doesn't cause you to start showing these symptoms, Skye," Simmons preaches seriously, once again using her extensive knowledge to her advantage. "Your speech has slurred, you are constantly stumbling, and no doubt your reflexes have been slowed down."
"Okay, okay," Skye grumbled, although her tone was higher pitched than normal. "Don't go all FitzSimmons on me."
"Fitz isn't here, Skye," Simmons reminds, surprised to see that the bottle had not yet been opened. She stows it away in her bag with a click of her teeth at Skye.
"You're physically linked, he's still kind of here."
"Skye, you're talking nonsense. Absolute nonsense," Simmons tells Skye firmly. Skye's slurring on about something else, but for the moment Simmons ignores her, rummaging through her bag as her phone rings. She recognises the caller ID instantly and smiles, bringing it to her ear.
"Sir?"
"Simmons. Have you had any luck yet?"
"I've found her. But she's in a rather.. compromising situation."
"Is she okay? Do you need any help?"
Simmons switches her gaze to Skye, who was very clearly drunk. She bit her lip suddenly. "Uh, help? No- no, everything's fine, sir. No need to wait up, we'll be along shortly." She can only imagine that Skye wouldn't want to be seen drunk by the team.
"Simmons? You've got that voice again. Is everything okay?"
"Okay?" Simmons notes with a wince that her voice is squeaky. "Pfft... Of course. Why wouldn't everything be okay? You know us, Coulson. We would never do anything stupid."
Coulson clearly hasn't bought it, but the phone clicks off, and Simmons heaves a loud sigh of relief, dropping the phone into her pocket.
"Who was that?"
"Just Coulson," Simmons smiles. "Nothing serious. But first, we have to get you home."
"Simmons, I'm perfectly able to make my own way home-" It's then that Skye stumbles, and Simmons raises an eyebrow at her.
"Skye, I can assure you that judging by your actions you have consumed a lot of alcohol, and that tends to muddle up even mundane actions such as-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Skye grumbles impatiently. "I'm sorry, can we go back now?"
"Right. Sorry."
...
"It's dark," Skye titters. It's late at night, and the faint glow of city lights is the only thing helping to guide them back to the Bus. Skye is slung over her shoulders, and they're making their way agonisingly slowly back to the Bus. "Did you bring any carrots?" At Simmons puzzled expression, she adds, "To help you see better. It improves your night vision, right?"
"Well that's not entirely true, you see. Carrots hold vitamin A, and this is required for the body to synthesise rhodopsin, which is the pigment in eyes that operates in low-light conditions," Simmons chatters obliviously. "Which means, if you have a vitamin A deficiency, you'll have lower night vision. Carrots will help, but they'll only improve your vision to the extent of an average person's. The tale of carrots making you see better is rather interesting, actually-"
She's cut off abruptly as Skye suddenly pulls away from her and promptly lurches the contents of her stomach into the gutter. Simmons looks away politely, trying her best not to make a face.
Skye stumbles back moments later. "What were you saying, Simmons?"
"On second thought.." Simmons stares doubtfully at Skye. "Never mind."
...
Simmons attempts to sneak Skye back onto the Bus the quiet way. It should have clicked when she sees that the plane cargo is already open and waiting.
Simmons guides Skye gently up into the plane, holding a finger to her lips desperately whenever Skye lets out a giggle or a sly comment.
"I feel like we're secret agents," Skye whispers happily.
Simmons shoots her an appalled look. "Skye, we are secret agents."
They make it to the kitchen without a hitch, and Simmons mentally congratulates herself. Even May hadn't come to observe, and the Calvary was actually like a hawk, with hearing and tracking skills to rival a warrior's.
Simmons sits Skye down at the bench and promptly prepares some tea, pulling out a box of painkillers to go with it. Skye brushes the pills off with an airy laugh, but Simmons only shakes her head.
"You're going to need them in the morning, Skye," she insists.
"Yeah, she'll have a killer headache."
Simmons whirls around with wide eyes, and like a deer in the headlights, she freezes. Coulson is standing in the doorway, and Simmons rushes to defend herself and Skye. "Oh, bloody hell. Sir, I swear, this isn't, I mean- Skye-"
"It's okay, Simmons. But I need to have a talk with Skye about abandoning the team."
"Oh, uh, yes, sir.. I don't think now is the best time, Skye is rather.."
Skye smiles sluggishly at Coulson and holds up her cup. "Tea?"
"Heavily influenced," Simmons finishes sheepishly.
...
Soon the Bus is quiet once again, and it's just Simmons now, perched on a seat by the small plane kitchen. She stifles a yawn and begins to unpack her bag. It's when she's almost at the bottom that she comes across the bottle that Skye had been clutching earlier. She smiles and moves to throw it away, but pauses suddenly.
"Oh, hell," Simmons mutters. She cracks open the lid and takes a sip.