This is Part Five of a story that starts in By My Side ch9
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Fitz and Jemma were each regularly caught whistling at inappropriate moments, there was a sudden proliferation of high quality baked goods around the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, and the lab and garage were hives of previously unimaginable productivity. Jemma and Fitz's morning routine was now sacred to both of them. They started their day together over a pot of tea, some baking and a to-do list of impossible tasks, went their separate ways to achieve said impossible tasks and then were reunited at the end of the day. They were now always the first to arrive in the lounge of an evening to brew more tea, claim the couch and debrief over their activities while apart.
One such evening, Coulson leaned over the back of the couch on which the two of them sat. "FitzSimmons, just a heads up that I'll be crashing your tea party tomorrow morning."
"Of course, sir," said Jemma. "Is everything ok?"
"I'll brief you in the morning. And Fitz?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I want to sample some of this baking everyone's been talking about."
"Of course, sir," Fitz grinned. "Any preferences?"
Jemma rested her hand on Fitz' forearm. "That rhubarb danish you made last week!"
Fitz shook his head. "No, what about the lemon poppy seed friands?"
"I know," Jemma enthused. "The German coffee cake."
Fitz nodded. "Yes. Good choice." He looked over his shoulder. "Sound alright to you, sir?" But Coulson had already left the lounge. Fitz looked back at Jemma sheepishly.
"Want some help baking it?" she offered.
"Sure, you can be my kitchen hand." He always jumped at opportunities to spend more time with Simmons. "Meet me here at 0600?"
"You're on," she yawned, getting up and taking their two tea cups and the milk jug over to the sink.
He followed after her with the teapot. "I wonder what Coulson's up to."
"Guess we'll find out in the morning," she replied, filling the sink with hot sudsy water and taking the pot out of his hands. "It's my turn to wash up," she stated. "Go on, you go to bed."
"Alright," he nodded slowly. "Night."
"Night," she replied over the clink of crockery. "Oh, and Fitz?"
"Mmm?" he replied, half turning on the top stair.
"Better bring your baking A-game for the director."
Fitz scoffed. "When have you ever known me not to bring my baking A-game?" he asked playfully.
"Actually," Jemma replied seriously, "You're a better baker than my nanna. And the whole family would cast me out if they heard me say that, but it's true. You could take out some serious prizes at the Chatsworth County Fair."
He laughed as he descended the steps. "I might need a curly wig with a blue rinse."
"That can be arranged," she called after him.
Fitz ambled off to bed with a smile on his face. He loved those last few minutes of banter with Simmons as they parted each night. Then he remembered that Coulson was meeting with them in the morning. He gave what was left of his mental energy to trying to predict the task. His guess was that it would have something to do with Skye and her mysterious and frightening "gift".
…
It seemed Fitz's guess was correct. Over early morning German coffee cake, Coulson briefed Fitz and Simmons on their upcoming mission.
"Look, FitzSimmons," he began, laying down his sparsely crumbed plate. "I don't think I've yet said how great it is to see you two collaborating again. Personally, I'm delighted – the pair of you were key ingredients in the glue that brought our original team together. Professionally, I'm awed. The productivity of both the lab and the garage has reached unprecedented heights."
Fitz and Simmons smiled bashfully back at him.
"But truthfully, I think we're about to face the time when we'll most need you united, both for your combined skills and for what you contribute relationally to one another and to the rest of us."
Like in the old days, Fitz and Simmons simultaneously leaned forward and rested their chins on their right fists. Coulson took it as an encouraging sign.
"The aim of this mission is two-fold. Skye has this "gift". We want to understand it better. We want to know both the extent of her powers and how badly it depletes her strength. Secondly, we want to know what we can do to help her control it, or, if necessary, in the case that she can't control it, how we can stop her from causing an event without harming her.
The pair in front of him nodded gravely.
"You'll have three weeks to prepare. Work with Mack. This morning he's taking delivery of the vehicle that will be home to the three of you for a month. The Bus will drop you in the Atacama Desert in Chile. It's extremely remote to reduce the chances of Skye causing harm to anyone."
"Or harm to herself," Skye added.
"Exactly," Coulson nodded. "Chances are, given what we've seen so far, Skye will be catatonic for days at a time after each test of her powers. So, FitzSimmons? I need to make one thing clear."
Two earnest faces looked back at him, ready for orders.
"Whatever it is that is unspoken between you, whatever tension might remain, or feelings that might need dealing with, you're going to have a lot of time to think and talk about them in the desert. You can decide to go your separate ways afterwards if you like, heck, you can decide to start a family. None of that is my concern. What is my concern is Skye and her well-being. She is going to need you two for reassurance, for company, for light-relief, for emotional support. The two of you are going to be her family out there so you are going to need to be at peace with one another." He looked pointedly at Fitz. "There can be none of this finding it too painful to work together business. Once you commit to this mission, you're stuck with one another." He paused and shook his head. "I only wish I could be there for her myself."
Fitz spoke up, seeking Simmons' eyes. "We can do it, can't we Jemma? You'll be able to put up with me for Skye's sake?"
She nodded vigorously.
He turned to Coulson. "Jemma and I can do it, sir. You don't have to worry about Skye."
"That's right," Jemma corroborated. "Skye will come first."
Coulson looked from one to the other. "Ok." He pulled out his tablet. "Here's what you're going to need." He turned his attention to Jemma. "You're chief medical officer, obviously. Take all your usual gear, as much as you can work with Mack to store in the vehicle, but you'll also need to work with Fitz to develop some advanced monitoring equipment. We don't just need vitals, we need to rig up some kind of seismographic monitors to measure the effect of each event on Skye's brain and body."
Jemma had pulled out her own tablet and was nodding as she scribbled down notes in a baffling short hand of her own creation. Fitz was the only other person who could read it, and he used it too. Coulson turned to Fitz.
"Fitz, you'll need to work on a means of administering a targeted sedation that Jemma will have to create. It needs to not only put her to sleep but also somehow prevent her from causing an event, or stop one before it really gets going. Obviously, our aim is to help her learn to control her own powers, but at least in the early days I imagine we'll need to have the ability to step in when she can't. Trick is, we might have to be able to administer it from a significant distance away."
The pair of them kept nodding and scribbling on their tablets.
"We need to understand her triggers," Coulson continued. "We'll need comms that can withstand seismic activity. I'll have to ask you to talk to her about subjects that are emotionally painful for her. We need to know her weaknesses to ensure we can protect her."
"Are you worried about her father, sir?" Jemma asked.
Coulson looked back at her from under a furrowed brow. "Sure, I'm worried about Cal." He paused. "But it's Ward who I'm losing sleep over."
"Ward?" A cloud came over Fitz's face. "You think he'll come after us?"
Coulson shook his head. "The last time he saw Skye, she gave him some bullets to the abdomen. I don't think he'll be in a rush to track her down." He smiled to himself. "I'm proud of that girl." He shook his head, remembering the urgency of the task at hand. "But it didn't escape my notice, and it wouldn't have escaped his, that her shots were non-lethal. She had the opportunity to kill him, and plenty of motive, but she clearly still has feelings for him, confused as they must be." He sighed. "Look, I want Skye to come out of this process empowered and in control, but in order for her to get there she's going to need to be confronted with the depths of her emotional baggage – the loss of her mother, the circumstances of her childhood, the realities of her father and whatever weakness she might still harbour where Ward is concerned."
Jemma looked sympathetically from Coulson to Fitz. "We understand," she stated simply. "Will you brief Skye about us testing her triggers?"
"Of course," Coulson replied. "She'll know what's ahead."
"Sir," Fitz said. "What can you tell us about the specs of the vehicle?"
"Ah," Coulson grinned. "I admit, it's a little unorthodox."
A deep voice rumbled from the stairwell preceding the appearance of Mack's head. "Um, sir? They've delivered a Winnebago." He looked unimpressed. "Are you sure I should sign off on that?"
Coulson nodded. "That's what we ordered. But you're going to get to pimp it out, ok Mack?"
A grin grew slowly across the big man's face. "Whatever you say, sir." And he turned and disappeared back down the stairs.
"A Winnebago?" Fitz asked. "Isn't that like a campervan?"
"It's not like a campervan," Coulson replied, a twinkle in his eye. "It is a campervan. And by the time Mack's done with it, it's going to be the most tricked out campervan you've ever been in."
"Given that I'm yet to experience being in a campervan, that's not going to be too hard."
"Now Fitz," Coulson chided. "Don't be a hater. Wait til you've tried it."
Fitz and Jemma grinned at one another.
"Another thing," Coulson added, returning to briefing mode. "You're going to need to put your heads together to work out how to build a suspended isolation chamber into the camper for Skye. We're not sure what extended use of her powers might bring on and, in our experience of 084s, sometimes power can be exerted unintentionally by the subject while they sleep. For the safety of all of you, you want her to be unable to affect her environment while she sleeps, especially if she does tend to sink into post-event catatonia."
Jemma let out a low whistle. "Three weeks prep you say?"
"Should I leave you to it?"
They didn't even answer. Already their heads were bent towards each other with Jemma sketching a diagram on her tablet while Fitz asked questions and made suggestions.
Coulson smiled. "Guess I'll just get out of your way then."
No response.
"Skye's clearly in good hands," he added but they were too far gone to hear.