(Trip is 26, Lance is 23, Grant is 22, Leo is 20, Jemma is 20, Skye is 18), Avalyn is 12 and Liam & Juliet are 5. + Avri is 8 and Amidala is 2-months-old.

Warnings: language (?) and alcohol addiction.

P.S.: Amidala (Ami) is Hunter and Bobbi's daughter. Yes, that guy reproduces like a freaking bunny...

"Jess?" Skye called as soon as she entered her dorm room, "Jess?"

Skye found the black haired teenager lying in her bed over the bedclothes, facing down. Her right arm was hanging off the edge of the bed and she was still holding to half a bottle of scotch. Sighing, Skye walked over to her bed to drop her laptop over it and then took the bottle from Jessica's hand, putting it over their chronically messy desk.

She decided to shake her roommate awake, saying in a soft voice, "Jessica?"

Jessica grunted but since she didn't have the strength to lift her head, she ended up mumbling into her pillow, "What?"

"Our case. I found Miranda Pritchett."

Jessica Jones was once an aspiring journalist who wanted to expose society's corruption and make justice. She was trying to think long-term and make it through college, but her mind was set on getting a private investigator's license and creating her own investigation's office. As days went by, she was more and more firm on the thought of quitting college. So far, what was feeding her hope was the fact that she and Skye were somewhat well-succeeded amateur PIs; Jessica did the field work while Skye took care of computer work – as she was studying computer programming. However, it was a shame that Jessica had an alcohol dependency (something concerning, giving the fact she was only nineteen) and a quite raging temperament. She would have been an excellent journalist but her temper and the alcohol addiction combined often threw her off-track.

Pushing herself up, Jessica sat in bed and grimaced as the room's light blinded her. She rubbed her eyes as she tried to get her bearings, "Where's she?"

Skye took a seat next to her roommate, "Miranda's in New York, living at her home. I did an internet research, and her credit card activity shows she's still in New York. For someone who wanted to disappear without a trace, she was pretty lousy at it."

"That doesn't make sense," Jessica reasoned correctly, despite the amount of alcohol in her system. "Her sister was desperate to find her, said she didn't take her calls, that she wasn't at her apartment and that she didn't even show up at work. It can't be her," the teenager reached out for her bottle of scotch, drinking a big gulp under Skye's reproving look. "She was mugged and probably killed and the credit card's being used by her killer."

"Well," Skye got up and crossed the small distance between their beds to grab her laptop, "I found her home, alive and well. I even recorded a video as evidence," the hacker affirmed, showing her the video she had recorded on her phone and transferred to her computer. "I staked out Miranda's home till now. I don't know from where she was coming, but she arrived with the so-suspicious boyfriend and the two went inside."

"I'll call Miranda's sister first thing tomorrow," Jessica said before holding the bottleneck to her lips. "Let go," she said in an authoritarian tone, feeling Skye holding the bottle.

"No, I won't let go. This is terrible for you," Skye told her, trying to yank the bottle from her tight grip. "Drinking every now and then is alright, but you drink too much."

"Fuck off," she said to Skye's face, green eyes widely open.

Skye grimaced as Jessica's alcohol breathe almost intoxicated her, "No I won't fuck off. Let go of the bottle, Jess."

"I'm not in my right mind. Don't make me do something I'll regret later," she warned. "Go and stakeout Miranda's apartment. Make sure she's still there with her boyfriend, knock on her door and tell her to call her sister if you have to, but leave me alone."

"I'll call Trish."

"Even if I tried, I can't give a fuck."

"Alright, okay," Skye raised her arms up, defeated, "your choice, Jess. Drink all you want. I'm gonna be outside Miranda's apartment if you decide to stay reasonably sober and actually do something useful."

Jessica rolled her eyes and drank a big gulp of scotch. Skye exhaled furiously through her nose, put her laptop in her satchel and crossed the strap over her chest. She slammed the door as she exited and stomped through the halls, walking to the dorm room of two law students who she and Jessica were friends with.

"Matt, Foggy!" Skye called, opening the door of their room.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Skye!" Frank swore, startled, dropping his law book. "Knock before entering. Or stop entering like that."

"Every time, really?" Skye teased as she walked in and let the door close behind her. "You're such a scared little thing, Foggy."

Matt grinned, no longer paying attention to his braille book. He turned his head to where he heard her voice had come from, "Something's wrong? Besides Foggy being a hopelessly scared princess."

Foggy got his revenge for that mocking comment by throwing his pillow at Matt's face.

"I have to run an errand but Jessica, she's – uh -" she lowered her voice, "drinking again. Keep an eye on her for me?"

"I'm blind, remember?" Matt smiled sheepishly.

Skye bit her lower lip, holding back a smirk, and gave him the finger, "How many fingers am I holding up, Murdock?"

"I have the feeling that you flipped me off."

"See? Blind but smart," Skye affectionately pressed a kiss on Matt's brown hair.

He snaked his arm around Skye's waist, keeping her close to his side. The two of them simply clicked after their first meeting; they became friends almost instantly. After learning that they've had lived in the same orphanage, the two of them got even closer as friends.

"And you, Foggy?" as she turned her eyes to Frank, Skye draped her arm around Matt's shoulders, rubbing slow circles on his upper arm. "Can I count with your help too?"

"I'm a hopelessly scared princess, remember?" he smirked.

"Do it for Jess," she said, heading to the door. "See you guys later," she bid farewell before walking out and striding along the halls again.

"C'mon, man," Foggy clapped his friend's shoulder, "let's nag Jess."

Matt grabbed Frank's arm around his elbow and adjusted the hold on his cane as the two walked over to Skye and Jessica's dorm room, "One day she'll punch us for real and it's gonna hurt."

Foggy smirked, "Let's hope that day is not today."

A stakeout was hard and boring work, Skye had to recognize why the policemen and detectives from the movies hated it. Those were some tedious hours to spend alone while trying to keep an unsuspicious posture. She was sitting at a bench just across the street from Miranda's apartment building. The lights were still on, she could see through the window, and the car she assumed was her boyfriend's (he was the one driving so the car so it should be his) was still parked outside the building. As they were (apparently) still both in the apartment, Skye dedicated her attention to something else: her college work. She figured she might as well do some work while surveilling Miranda's apartment.

Though, Skye quickly got fed up with work. She didn't want to be in college to begin with. She was a great hacker – she had twelve years of experience – and she had proved that to her parents. Coulson and May recognized that Skye was an excellent hacker but they wanted her to get a degree before joining SHIELD. She learned about her parents work rather late and was somewhat angry at them for keeping it a secret from her (and also because she was the last one to know about it – except for Avalyn who didn't know yet, of course), but quickly got over it and expressed her desire to work with the agency as well, following Trip, Grant and (quite recently) Lance, Leo and Jemma's examples. Coulson and May still insisted on getting a degree before joining SHIELD, because even though Communications was the easiest Academy to enter, she still needed to be the best of the best to get in.

She exhaled thoroughly, thinking that she could use something to fuel her brain – coffee or a donut would suffice. She then chuckled quietly, realizing of how cop-stereotypical that idea had sounded. But, when Skye was about to get up and search for the nearest convenience store or coffee shop, Miranda's alleged boyfriend exited the building. That was the perfect time to go and knock on Miranda's door and talk with her. Skye meant to tell her that, even if she wanted to make a fresh start, that she should at least talk with her sister and keep her from over-worrying.

Walking through the front door would be a bad move, Skye acknowledged, so, after putting her laptop back in her satchel, she walked to the back of the building. Making use of her two bobby pins, she picked the backdoor's lock and entered the building. After that it wasn't hard to find Miranda's apartment. Skye knocked a few times and waited patiently, staring down at her feet, hands clasped behind her back. She found it strange that Miranda wasn't opening the door. She picked the apartment's lock as well, already preparing an explanation to give Miranda when she would find her in her apartment. Skye wished she could have had embarrassed herself but that didn't happen. Miranda was lying on the floor behind the couch. The teenager tiptoed into the room, slowly approaching the body on the floor.

Skye clamped her own mouth upon finding the blonde woman lying motionless on the floor, eyes wide opened, a growing bruise on her neck. She leaned over and with a shaky hand felt Miranda's heartbeats. Or she wished she could have felt them. Miranda was dead and there was no one she could call. She really wanted to call the police and tip them about that woman's death, but what excuse would she have for having walked in her apartment? Being a PI was already a hard job; being a teenage PI made things even worse. Moreover, it killed Skye that she couldn't tell the police about Miranda's murderer.

A bit at loss, Skye exited the apartment and rushed down the stairs, heading to the backdoor. She puffed once and again, when outside, running her fingers through her hair. She had no clue about what to do but one thing was sure: she just wanted to go back to the dorms and hope the police wouldn't come to question her or Jessica. Skye wandered along the sidewalk, looking back at Miranda's apartment building every now and then, feeling her heart thumping fast in her chest. She bumped against someone and something hot spilled across her abdomen.

"Oh, jeez, sorry," a male voice said. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention."

Skye looked at the man she bumped against. He was a young man, blond, had a scruffy beard and his blue eyes were attentive on her. He wore blue hospital garments, which indicated nurse or doctor, but giving the fact looked not three or four older than herself, Skye assumed he was an intern.

"You're okay?" he asked concerned, offering a small smile.

"Oh," Skye looked down at her shirt, a coffee stain spreading through her shirt, "yeah, yeah. Don't worry. I – uh -" she smiled shyly as she looked at him, "buy you another cup of coffee?"

"No, it's okay -"

"I insist," she told him. "Skye," she introduced herself, stretching her hand for a handshake.

He shook her hand, "Lincoln." Turning around to face the other side of the street, he pointed to a coffee shop, "Let's go over there. It was where I got this one," he told her, throwing the empty cup in the trash.

"Sorry, I was the distracted one. I was looking at – nothing I guess," she grinned as she poorly explained.

The two of them crossed the street and enter the coffee shop. Skye ended up getting a cup of coffee for herself as well and the two take a seat at one of the tables in the shop, casually chatting.

(When Skye let it out about Jessica's drinking addiction – feeling the need to unburden – she felt Lincoln closing up a bit, as if that subject had hit too close to home. He knew she had sensed his tension, but, nonetheless, the two evaded any awkwardness that could have resulted from talking further about it and continued chatting as if nothing had happened).

When Skye returned back to her dorm room, Frank and Matt were sitting on her bed, the blond one holding an ice pack against his eye.

"Jessica got a bit physical, I see," she commented as she walked in.

"A bit is speaking mildly," Matt affirmed. "Could have gotten a lot worse if we didn't let her keep the bottle."

"Sorry, Foggy," Skye told him, taking a seat between the two young men.

"Who is he?" Matt asked, unable to disguise the jealousy in his tone.

"Who is who?"

Matt's jaw tightened, "Your shirt stinks of coffee, and I know you can be clumsy sometimes, but I don't think you poured coffee down yourself. So, you bumped against someone carrying a cup of coffee. And, giving the time you took to return, I'd say that you bumped against a guy and that you two ended up chatting, so, who's he?"

Skye sighed, knowing that she had no room whatsoever to lie, "His name's Lincoln. He's a recently graduated doctor who's doing his internship at the hospital nearby. I bumped against him when I was coming back to the dorms. He spilled his cup of coffee over me and I offered to buy him another one. We walked inside and chatted for a bit. He seemed a nice guy."

"Unbelievable," Foggy almost spelled out the word, bewildered. "How did you do that?"

"You need to be able to make fast deductions, Foggy," Skye told him.

"I'm studying to be a lawyer not Sherlock Holmes."

Matt flashed a grin and got up, "I think we should go now. You're here with Jessica and Foggy's getting grumpier by the minute."

"I have a swollen eye," Frank grumbled on the way to the door. "I have all the rights in the world to be grumpy, 'kay?"

Skye offered a small smile, "You're right. You have all the rights in the world to be grumpy. Thanks, guys. You can go back to your room now. I'm just gonna take a shower and sleep it off."

"Oh, then I guess I'll stay a bit more," Matt said, stopping suddenly. "Can't leave Jess alone. I'll be right there, Foggy," he said to his roommate, walking back to take a seat at Skye's bed.

"Thanks, Matt," Skye said, giving a light squeeze to his shoulder. "G' night, Foggy."

"'Night," he mumbled, letting the door close behind him.

When Skye was back from her shower, Matt was lying face up in her bed, eyes closed.

"Hey," she whispered, resting her flat hand on his chest, shaking lightly, "Mattie?"

His senses were immediately invaded by her presence: the sound of her soft voice woke him up, the touch of her hand burned a hole on his chest, the scent of shampoo entered his nostrils and she had leaned over him so much that her breathe tickled his lips and left him with a strange lingering taste in his mouth that made him wonder how kissing her would feel like. He shook his head when the latter thought ran through his mind and sat bolt upright, scratching the back of his head.

"Sorry, fell asleep for a bit here."

"It's okay," he could literally hear her smiling. "Thanks for staying with Jessica."

He didn't stay because of Jessica and Skye knew it. Even Foggy knew that he didn't stay back to look after a passed out Jessica Jones.

"Nah, it's alright," he smiled, swinging his feet off the bed and down on the floor.

Matt was still sitting on the edge of her bed, not having even moved an inch.

"Everything alright?" she asked, taking seat next to him, patting his leg.

"Yeah, sure. Everything's alright."

"Really? Then why did you sound jealous earlier?"

"Don't mistake concern with jealousy," the young man said right away, getting up and grabbing his cane. "You've just met Lincoln -"

"And we only chatted," Skye's furrowed her brows. "It's not like I'm marrying him, Matt."

Matt gripped the doorknob, "Just looking after you. 'Night," he said over his shoulder before leaving.

"'Night," she replied, mostly to herself since Matt had already left out the door.

After draping a blanket over Jessica, Skye crawled into her bed. She felt like her brain was going to melt, mulling over a thousand different thoughts. She didn't think she could survive another day of college, she was anxious about her future, she was really scared about Miranda's death, she worried about Jessica's sobriety every day, and even if she had enjoyed chatting with Lincoln, she sensed that there was something off about him, and she couldn't understand (she actually could but didn't want to acknowledge) the reason why Matt sounded so jealous.

She silently screamed into her pillow and then lied down face up, staring the ceiling. Her brain was a mess and she really wished Jessica was sober (that was the first and only time Skye was so selfish about Jessica's alcohol problem). She really needed a friend to chat with. After endlessly tossing and turning in bed, Skye exhaled deeply and reached for her phone, calling Jemma; at least she could always count on Jemma.

The crime described in this is chapter is taken from the comic book issue Alias Vol 1 #1 (called "Alias Investigations (Part 1 of 5)") written by Brian Michael Bendis (November 2001).

New poll on my profile, please vote.

And, regarding Jessica's character: I wrote this before the show came out, so the details aren't that accurate. Then again, this is a different universe, so I can do whatever I want with the characters.