CHAPTER 4

Bobbi stared, blue eyes unblinking at the small blue plastic for three days until she started to see blue everywhere she looked. Skye's small blue plastic. Skye's memory card. Skye's life. It had been three days since Skye had given her the memory card and she hadn't brought herself to do anything yet. She hadn't looked at the information, she hadn't handed it in to Coulson, she hadn't even talked to Skye about it. The blue plastic had sat in her pocket - suspiciously close to her Soulmark - for three days, slowly driving her insane.

Should she read it? It was personal, Skye's who life was supposedly on it. But, Skye had given it to her, that was as much of an invitation to read it as anything. There was a small part of her that knew Skye would know she would read it, so what if it was a virus and Skye was just playing her? Should she hand it in to Coulson, tell him her theories and just leave it up to him.

She could hear the footsteps approaching, but she didn't move. "Deep thinking." May mused, Bobbi was standing at the punching bag, but her taped hands were hanging limply at her sides.

Bobbi shook her head with a scoff. "You have no idea." May raised an eyebrow at her in response.

"You wanna talk?"

'Skye is my Soulmate.' The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say them. 'Skye gave me a memory card that is either a virus or information on herself.' Those words didn't come out either, hovering in the back of her throat. 'I'm going insane because I've been living with my Soulmate for a month and she doesn't give a shit about our Bond.'

"Hypothetically." Bobbi started slowly, "if you didn't know whether to trust your Soulmate and they gave you something that would either prove or break that trust, would you hand it in or keep it to yourself?"

May raised her eyebrow again before speaking. "Hypothetically." May was mocking her. Great. "The trust isn't based on what she gave you, but what you believe she gave you." Nothing in the file Maria gave her said May was this philosophical.

The memory card felt like it was burning in her pocket. Or maybe it was her Mark burning, urging her to trust Skye. "Right." Her fingers slipped into her pocket and fingered the small card.

"If you're finished." May's eyes flickered pointedly to the punching bag.

"Go for it." The blonde was already unwrapping her fingers as she stepped away from the bag. She could have sworn she saw May smirk and shake her head as she was leaving, but when Bobbi looked back her back was turned and she was jabbing steadily at the leather bag.

"She's in the kitchen!" May called when she was almost out the door and after a moment of shocked silence Bobbi decided that she might be a good spy, but May would always be better.

True to May's word Skye was in the kitchen, slurping the last of the milk out of her cereal bowl like a child. "Hey!" Skye let out a startled yelp when Bobbi's fingers wrapped around her arm, pulling her out of the kitchen. "What the Hell, Bobbi?" Skye yanked her arm free, glaring at her, but Bobbi pushed her the extra ten feet until they were both safely locked in her bunk. "What is your problem?"

"You." Bobbi snapped before she could stop herself. Skye. Skye. Skye. She was the cause and solution to so many of her problems, problems she didn't have before being assigned to this team. "What's on the card." The tiny blue rectangle of plastic was in her hand. Skye's eyes zeroed in on it and Bobbi saw the cracks again. The cracks of a girl who was searching, who was nervous, who had only had herself to rely on her whole life.

"I told you." Skye mumbled, turning away and it was so different from the confident, flirty, cocky Skye that she was used to.

"Why did you tell me?" She was going to give in, no matter how much she wanted to, she needed answers. Just one answer. She just needed for Skye to say the word, to admit they were Soulmates. "Why did you leave the Rising Tide, people don't just change their allegiance like that. Why-"

"Because I want to stay." Skye's eyes were shining and wet when she turned back around and it made Bobbi's heart clench. "I want to know what it's like to be somewhere more than a few months. I want to know what it's like to help people. I want t-to wake up in the morning and not feel like a piece of shit orphan that nobody wanted." Bobbi felt like Skye was revealing her Soul, spilling all her deep dark secrets. This wasn't all of them, Bobbi knew, not by a long shot, but it was perhaps her oldest most damaging insecurity. "I get that here; you train me, and I help people, and it feels like some weird, dysfunctional family, and some days I don't even think about how no-one ever wanted me, not even my parents because it feels like-like something in my Soul is telling me I have a future here."

In her Soul.

"If me being here bugs you that much, you could've just said and I would've-"

The panic set in before Skye could finish. "Don't leave." If Bobbi sounded desperate it was because she felt desperate. It took a moment of long silence for her to realise that she didn't want to Skye to leave. No matter if Skye did turn out to be untrustworthy and duplicitous, she can't stand the thought of her being anywhere other than close to Bobbi. "Don't leave." She repeated, significantly less pleading than the time before. "When I'm around you-" everything in her body screamed for her to kiss the girl. "-I feel like I'm trying to solve a puzzle with no edge, and none of the pieces fit. I'm trained to read people, to know what they're thinking, but I can't read you." Bobbi didn't even realise her fingers were winding through Skye's hair, that she was drawing her closer, that her Mark was humming in the most pleasurable way.

"Everyone to the Briefing Room!" Skye jumped away from her, leaving her cold and empty as the brunette swiped at her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. Coulson had the worst timing in history.

"I told you, I've never been anywhere more than a few months... Maybe I'd like to try for longer." Skye ducked her head as she left, shying away from her. Maybe that was the most vulnerable Skye had let herself be in a long time. She said herself, she wanted to stay here, she'd given up her secret so she could stay, Bobbi knew if she gave up a secret like that she wouldn't want to look at the person after.


When Bobbi saw Skye next it was after she'd been to the train station with May and Coulson, Coulson had claimed it as a 'training exercise', but Bobbi had the feeling it had more to do with getting a read on Skye himself, when she wasn't in close vicinity. The thought alone of Skye being away from her, somewhere she couldn't protect her - no matter how much the younger woman could protect herself - made her Mark prickle uncomfortably.

The feeling didn't get any better through-out the day; Skye had returned from the crime scene unharmed and with two exasperated senior Agents trailing her, but then they'd been separated again. Bobbi had never been a clingy child, she'd never had separation anxiety when her parents left her somewhere, but when Skye, Fitz and Simmons were left behind in the mini-bus she wondered if this was what it felt like; the crushing worry, the fear, the difficulty breathing, the way her Mark prickled.

She hadn't felt anywhere close to this bad when Skye had gone into Quinn's compound alone in Malta, so why now?

Coulson had to remind her to focus on the case and not her Soulmate or he might have to check that he'd filed everything correctly. That was going to be a noose around her neck for a long time, Bobbi figured, and Coulson had the ability to kick at the bucket she was figuratively standing on. The question was whether Coulson was that kind of man or not.

The question was actually if Skye was safe right now.

"So, how do you think she's doing it?" Bobbi wondered after talking to the innkeeper, "think Skye is right and she's psychic?" She had to admit, knowing about the innkeepers tumor certainly cast doubt.

Coulson gave her a long, amused look. "And here I thought you were a smart one, Morse, there's no documented proof of precognition or extra-sensory perception."

"There was also no proof of aliens before Thor." Bobbi pointed out, "just because it's not documented, doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"I think whatever Amador is doing is a little closer to home than Asgard." Coulson commented easily.

Bobbi stopped herself mid eye-roll when her Mark prickled again, painful in a way that demanded her attention just as Coulson entered the room Amador had been occupying. Whatever Coulson thought about ESP or Precognition she knew something was wrong. Not even involving the case, something was wrong with Skye and it was making her nearly physically sick.


Bobbi was right, something was wrong. Akela Amador was quickly becoming one of Bobbi's least favourite people, and each reason could be counted as the bruises on Skye's body. Bruises from being in a van when Amador over-turned it. Bruises from putting herself between Simmons and some sharp corners.

Fitz and Simmons iced each others bruises, and talked over each other as they reported to Coulson about Amador and the feed they'd intercepted before the van had been rammed. Bobbi sat with Skye, feeling oddly reminiscent of only a couple of weeks ago as she cleaned the cut on the back of her head. May was stand opposite them, listening as Skye explained her side of the incident, pausing when the antisceptic stung the cut.

"The feed was showing the van?" May questioned, Skye didn't say anything for a moment as Bobbi cleaned the cut, the only sign she was in pain being the clenching of her fists.

"Yeah, like it was coming from the other car." Skye confirmed, after the blood was gone the cut didn't look so bad. "Infrared or some shit, I could hack the feed again, get a better picture." She offered, letting out a slow breath when Bobbi put a sealant on the cut.

"I'm done." Bobbi's voice was soft.

"Thanks." The smile Skye gave her was warm before she turned her attentions back to May, neither one making any motion to move; Skye sitting between Bobbi's legs, and one of the blonde's hands resting casually on her hip. "I know I said ESP or something, but I'm pretty sure ESP isn't hackable, so I guess you were right." Skye's head ducked sheepishly as she admitted that and Bobbi braced herself for a scathing comment from May... That never came.

"Now you know." May said instead, turning on her heel. Skye relaxed, her body pressing back against Bobbi's. The blonde's breath caught and her Mark buzzed against her skin at the contact. She wondered idly if this was what it would be to wake up next to her in the morning before she dismissed that thought because nothing even remotely close to sharing a bed would happen until they were on the same page in regards to their bond.

"That went well." Skye commented sarcastically after a long, silent moment. Her body was so warm, and her Mark was tingling and buzzing in a way that reminded her of when it formed in Kindergarten; warmth and calmness and a sense of everything being right in the world that was lulling her into a state of comfort and contentedness.

"Better than I thought." Bobbi admitted, resisting the urge to close her eyes and savour the moment. "May's big on criticism to make you better." Skye scoffed and she could practically hear the roll of her eyes. "I heard she once made a baby Agent cry and he went on to be one of the best at Shield."

"I've had tough love before." Skye commented, her mind flashed back to the list of injuries in her file. "But, compared to that, May is practically a teddy bear." Who had hurt her and made her believe it was tough love?

Bobbi grinned, imagining the face May would give her if she heard that. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that." Skye laughed and it made her feel warm in a way she hadn't felt since before the divorce. "No, really, I'm sure it'll amuse her... Or at least give her something to aim for."

The quiet warmth was broken by the doors sliding open with a hiss and Fitz and Simmons' banter as they led the way for Coulson. Skye sat up and the warmth was gone, but Bobbi didn't let herself linger on it, sitting to attention and addressing Coulson instead. "Skye," Coulson raised his eyebrows at them, shooting Bobbi a disapproving look. "Do you think you can get back into the feed from earlier?"

"Is that a serious question?" Skye stretched as she stood up, "because that's childs play and I find it kind of insulting that you have to ask."

"Good." Coulson smiled disarmingly. "FitzSimmons will help." Skye looked like she wanted to argue with that, Bobbi knew she was more than capable of hacking whatever the feed was on her own, but the brunette bit her tongue and just nodded. "Keep me updated, Agent Morse." He didn't even need to ask if she was staying. Skye had a concussion, numerous cuts and bruises, and had just been attacked by Akela Amador, Bobbi wasn't going anywhere after all of that had happened when she wasn't there.

"Yes, Sir." The affirmation came easily, especially when Skye reached up to the back of her head where her hair had matted with blood. "Don't touch." She hissed, slapping the hand away, earning a disgruntled frown in response.

Before Coulson left her leveled her with a knowing, disapproving look. "Try to remember this is a workplace, Ladies." Skye didn't seem to be paying attention anymore, instead she was trying to fend off Simmons who was insisting on shoving painkillers down her throat, but Bobbi had the decency to at least flush. Not that they had even been doing anything, just sitting.

"Bobbi!" The blonde tried not to react to the way her eyes lit up when she saw her. "Tell Simmons I'm fine, you cleaned me up, I'm not even bleeding anymore." Fine wasn't really the word Bobbi would use. Concussed worked well. Or injured. Maybe victimised might be going a bit far, but that wouldn't really stop her from using it.

"You have a concussion." Bobbi reminded, earning a roll of Skye's brown eyes. "You should be sitting down, not-"

"Oh please." Skye interrupted, "I've hacked with worse than a concussion before, and it won't be the last time either."

"It's okay, Agent Morse." Fitz spoke up before they could start arguing in earnest. "I'm not a CS expert like Skye, but I can help out since we're at a dead end in trackin' Amador."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Skye huffed, "I'm not an invalid." Though it probably would have proven her point better if she hadn't swayed on her feet.

Her skin was warm under Bobbi's fingertips as she held her steady, peering into the brown eyes still trying to glare back at her. "Sit." The command came out harsher than she meant it to, but it got the girl to sit at least. "Fitz will start the hack, if he needs help, he'l let you know. Right, Fitz?"

The Scotsman looked nervous, but was nodding none-the-less. "R-right. Of course. You just relax, Skye." He turned on the spot, absently scratching his ear. "I-I'll jus'..." He turned again and if he didn't stop soon Bobbi was going to stop him "There!" How Fitz ever made it through the Academy was a mystery to Bobbi as she watched his entire posture brighten when he finally spotted the computer on his 5th turn.

"I'm seriously fine, Bobbi." Though she stayed sitting where Bobbi had pointed her to before.

"I'll believe you more when you can stand without falling on your ass."


May had offered to take the first watch with Akela Amador. The feed Skye had hacked before being rammed in the mini-Bus, and then again with Fitz - while she had a concussion - wasn't of Amador. It was Amador. The camera was in her left eye, and there was someone else watching, someone with control over Amador and who was giving her orders through the eye.

Skye was watching as movie with science babies, and Coulson was filing paperwork, so Bobbi took the time to sit with May. "How did you know?" The question came out after ten minutes of silence as they watched Amador do pull-ups on a bar attached to a doorway. "About-how did you know that Skye was-" her Soulmate. How did May know Skye was her Soulmate? But, the words didn't want to come out.

"For a spy, you're not subtle." She could practically hear May rolling her eyes. "The kid is, though. You gave it away, not her." So it wasn't just Bobbi, May could see it too that Skye was completely indifferent.

"That's not normal, though, right?" Bobbi had to know. "Skye resisting, not caring, that's not normal is it?" The half indifference, half flirtations. The way she just seemed able to continue with life as if Bobbi was just another person she worked with.

May stared at her for a long moment, "no." The woman finally admitted.

Silence stretched between them as Amador moved from pull-ups to sit-ups. Seeing what Amador saw, watching through her point of view as she worked out, it only served to strengthen her dislike of Coulson's previous protege. This was the person - though she was ordered to - who had driven a car into the side of the mini-bus with three unarmed puppies inside until turned over. They had been lucky that the worst injury had been Skye's concussion.

"Decided if you trust the kid?" Always the kid, never Skye. May always generalised the younger three - Fitz, Simmons and Skye, as kids.

"I'm starting to." She wanted to, so very badly, but how could she trust someone who was so resistant to the pull of the Soulmarks? The memory card weighed heavily in her pocket, never anywhere but on her person. "I've got to go." Her Mark tingled as she stood up and fingered the tiny blue card in her pocket. "Have fun with Amador." She tossed over her shoulder before heading for her bunk.

Her computer whirred to life and the memory card stared back at her from the palm of her hand. This card was Skye, everything about her apparently, and it all fit on something so small. There was no password or encription when she put the card in, but then she supposed Skye had had it on her person in preparation of giving it up, so she must have removed the protections on it. File after file after file opened; newspaper clippings, foster records, orphanage files, social services, missing childrens reports from all over the world all about babies in the 88-89 time frame... A document. Most of it was blacked out, but one thing was painfully obvious; the S.H. .D logo in the top right corner dated April of 1989.

That's what Skye wanted from S.H.I.E.L.D; her life. Her life, her birth, her parents, whatever was on that document was everything she'd been looking for and S.H.I.E.L.D was keeping it from her.

Bobbi started sifting through the rest of the files, maybe she could find something to give her a lead on the what the document might, on how to get access to it. There were photos. A lot of photos, most of them taken from security cameras, she'd guess, from the angle of them. But, they weren't of Skye. They were Director Fury, in his long trench coat, with his eyepatch, all 6 foot 2 of him. More files from the orphanage; health records, foster records, school records, all with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo and Fury's signature in the corner.
Reports of asian or part asian baby girls that went missing in 88 or 89 - there was a horrifying amount of them - the ones that had been solved with big red X's through them. Possible parents, Bobbi realised, Skye must have thought or hoped.

Sometime around the fourth foster home - the one responsible for at least half of the injuries on her file - Bobbi took a break to grab a bottle of tequila because she couldn't continue sober. The hospital record attached to the social service record came with the name Mary Sue Poots - no wonder she'd changed it to Skye - and a list as long as her arm for what had been done to her. She was 12 at the time. Who would do that to a 12-year-old?

The tequila burned as it went down her throat.

Outside her bunk Fitz' lilting Scottish tones mixed with Simmons' English and Skye's laughter as they passed through the hall and it was enough to bring her back from her murderous rage. Skye was here, she was safe, those monsters couldn't get their hands on her anymore.

Except Skye wasn't safe, she could be hurt, Akela Amador was proof of that. Bobbi could read any more, so she closed her computer and opened her bunk door with a hissing sigh just in time to see Skye as Fitz and Simmons ducked into their own bunks.

"Agent Morse." God, how could two words be so full of innuendo? Her own name no less. If Skye didn't stop addressing her so sinfully it was going to become very uncomfortable and awkward when her superiors addressed her. "Want to join me for a drink?" The tequila was still in her hand, but was gently tugged from her loose fingers with a sly smirk from the brunette.

"You shouldn't be drinking." Bobbi said instead of giving in, taking the bottle back.

"You know I'm over twenty-one, right?" 25 actually. Worse yet, Skye didn't even know that.

"You also have a concussion." Bobbi reminded earning a grimace and tongue stuck out in her direction.

"Fine, whatever, guess I'll have to entertain myself." Skye turned and tossed a wink over her shoulder. "Goodnight." Fuck, she was so screwed!


It was not a good night. It was a really shitty night. Because she was sure Skye was being louder than necessary on purpose. When she finally did manage to get to sleep - long after she was sure Skye was asleep - it was fitful and she was woken less than an hour later.

At least she'd been trained to function on little or no sleep at the Academy.

The chair next to her squeaked as Skye dropped into it and Bobbi glanced over. "Hey." She looked tired, her hair was messy from being woken barely two hours after falling asleep. "Coffee?" The cup warmed her fingers as she took it. "We finished the glasses. Pretty good work if I do say so myself."

"Only good?" The coffee was good, just the right amount of milk, which Lance had never been able to figure out no matter how many times she told him. "You must be losing your touch, I might have to trade you in for a new hacker."

"Well, I didn't want to brag, I have to pretend I'm not awesome sometimes so the regular people don't get jealous." Skye propped her feet on the desk as she sipped at her own coffee. The silence was comfortable as they sipped their coffee, broken by the occasional yawn from Skye as they watched the security cameras to see Coulson heading to see FitzSimmons in the lab before heading in their direction.

When the door creaked open, neither of them were surprised to see Coulson. "Briefing room. We need a plan." The backscatter glasses were part of a plan that Skye and Fitz had come up with, but not a whole plane. Maybe 12 % of a plan.

"I'll get the coffee." Skye offered as she got up. "This means I don't have to be up at stupid-o'clock for training, right?" She tossed over her shoulder.

"Right." Bobbi nodded, blue eyes following her out the door.

Coulson would go intercept May in her hunt for Amador, Simmons and Fitz would prepare to remove the eye implant, Skye would go with Bobbi who would be using the newly created, never tested backscatter glasses to carry out Amador's orders whilst Simmons did her job.

"Does no-one else see the problem?" Skye was frowning across from her, turning disbelieving eyes to each of them in turn. "Seriously, aren't you guys meant to notice the little details?" The accusation was shot at FitzSimmons who shared a confused look. "Amador is what, five-four? Five-five, max."

"So?" Coulson prompted, Skye looked at him in disbelief.

"So." She began pointedly, " Bobbi is, like, six feet-"

"Five-eleven." The blonde cut in helpfully.

Skye rolled her eyes, "as if that makes a difference. There's still six inches at least, and what if the guy controlling on the other side of the feed notices that? Or he leads us into a trap? I'd really rather not get killed today."

The silence was nearly deafening. As good as she was at undercover, even Bobbi couldn't shrink 6 inches for a case. "You're not doing it." Because that was the first horrifying solution her mind provided. "No way in-"

"I didn't want to do it. I'm just saying, it's kinda obvious; Amador is closer to a Smurf, and you're an Amazon." She had a point, but having a point wasn't enough to change the plan because Skye certainly wasn't going to be the guinea pig wearing the glasses. Bobbi wouldn't allow it. Especially with the reminder that it could be a trap.

Shit!

"Well, if May were here, we'd have a solution, but she's not and we don't have the time to think of something else, so either Morse goes in or we take the time we don't have to waste and try and come up with something else." Coulson was the one to speak. He was right, May was the right height, and whilst she wasn't black her skin was certainly closer to it than Bobbi's. The only person worse than Bobbi to be doing this mission was some generic white guy Agent that was 6 feet tall and had no people skills. Like that Ward guy that worked with Garrett.

Bobbi steeled herself and hoped Skye's programming was enough to take the attention off Amador long enough for Simmons to get rid of the camera eye. "Grab your computer, we leave in ten minutes."


Bobbi sat still and waited for Skye to finish programming the last minute details on the glasses, syncing the feed to her computer and adding an adjustment that she said would make her feed appear shorter. It was an untested theory, but as long as it fooled the guy giving the orders, it was good enough for Bobbi.

"So." Skye started as she tapped away at her computer.

"So." Bobbi mimicked only slightly mockingly. Skye flicked her ear for that, sticking her tongue out at the rearview mirror.

"Did you decide what to do?" Her voice was casual, but not nearly casual enough. How could she read her so easily in normal situations, but not even get an inkling of recognition about her Soulmark. Bobbi raised an eyebrow back at her through the mirror. "My card. I saw it in your computer." Right, the tiny blue tip peaking out from the edge of the memory card slot contrasted with the silver finish of the computer. "You gonna tell Coulson like a good little Agent or what?"

"Did you expect me to?" Did she? Did Skye give it to her knowing that she'd give it to Coulson, or hoping that she'd keep it to herself.

Skye's shrug was entirely forced and not at all nonchalant. "I mean, I don't exactly broadcast it, so if you're offering I'd prefer no-one else know, but I figured it was probably against some stupid rule, so whatever."

"Why'd you give it to me?" She could have skipped her and gone to Coulson, could have kept it to herself and left Bobbi searching, but she gave it to her. Skye didn't answer for a long moment, and Bobbi started to turn to face her, only to have the younger woman turn her head forward again.

"Don't look at me." Skye scolded, "you're going live in; three. Two. One." And just like the pressure of the whole mission was on her shoulders. The orders came through and Bobbi felt a tug on her ponytail. "Good luck."

She never did get an answer.


The circles and curves and lines stared back at her. A wall full of lines and circles condensed onto four regular sized pages. The person controlling Amador had been just as much of a puppet as she had been, and he'd died for it. So the person controlling him was the next step to whoever was in charge, and someone high up in the chain of command wanted whatever those circles and lines were.

She knew she should hand it in to Coulson, along with Skye's memory card. And yet both were securely in her bunk instead of her C.O's office. Her thoughts were broken by a knock on her door and an excited Simmons on the other side. "Agent Morse!" No matter how many times she insisted on Bobbi, Simmons still insisted on Agent Morse - and it didn't sound nearly as dirty as when Skye said it. "Fitz and I have been working on improving the Night Night gun and the dendrotoxin formula and were wondering if you wanted to come see, since you did give us the solution to the paralysis problems, and-"

"Sounds great, Simmons." Bobbi cut in before she could start rambling. She checked that the weird pattern she'd drawn were locked in her drawer, and her computer was shut down - taking the memory card as she did so - before leaving with the English woman who was practically bouncing on her feet. "Have you thought about making it smaller?" Geeking out with the science babies was easy, it took her mind off her worries and problems. "A rifle is great, but imagine mass producing a handgun or something as an alternative to real bullets. It'd save so many lives from the kill shot."

Fitz already had a design drawn up of a possible Night Night handgun, and was working on a prototype when they got to the lab, muttering about smaller bullets and that it was too heavy. "With smaller rounds, we'd have to have a more concentrated formula." Simmons explained, holding up the casing for what Bobbi guessed was the size of the smaller handgun round. "The problem is we can't take out any more of the paralysis particles or it won't work, and if we take out the stabilising agent, it'll just break up when it's fired." Yeah, she guessed that was classed as a problem; when either it wasn't strong enough, or the bullets wouldn't get to their target.

Bobbi peaked through a microscope at a sample of the formula on a slide. "Have you thought about a different stabiliser? If you get a stronger stabiliser to mix with the dendrotoxin, you wouldn't need to take out any of the paralysis, and you could use less of the stabiliser so it'd fit in the smaller round."

"Yes, but, we've tried all the stabilisers we could think of-" Simmons started, a frown setting into her face.

"-one of them turn' the formula solid-" Fitz added absently as he tightened something on his prototype.

"-and another just melted the casing!" Simmons looked down right scandalised, as though the casing had melted as a personal insult to her intelligence. "I suppose we could try to put it in a stronger casing." She mused out loud, "but then the case wouldn't break up upon contact and that'd be a bit problematic because we're going for non-lethal..."

"Why don't you create a new formula?" Sure, it wasn't as simple as just saying 'create a new formula' but, "If anyone is smart enough, it's you two." Simmons shared a look with Fitz as silence surrounded them for a moment.

"Of course!" Simmons exclaimed brightly, rushing to her station. "If you can find it, make it. You certainly are a credit to Sci-Tech, Agent Morse."

Before she could argue that she'd actually transferred to Operations Fitz was at her side, handing her the prototype. "See, I was thinkin' of addin' a chip so only Shield Agents can use it, you know, for safety, but that'd add at least another ounce, and the Agents would each have to have a chip as well to activate it, and that would mean putting a chip in everyone at Shield's hands which is just impractical. What do you think about a wrist band or somethin'? Every Agent wears a wrist band that activates the pistol. As long as you've got a wrist band you could pick up any one and fire, and if you don' have one it's still a pretty good thing for throwin'..." The gun weighed nicely in her hand - a little heavier than she was used to, but any Agent worth their salt could adapt to a different weight - and she let herself become emerged in the science and complexity of Fitz and Simmons.


I meant for this one to be longer, especially after such a long wait, and I promise I haven't abandoned Students of S.H.I.E.L.D.