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I meant to write this for the last week of WSSummer on tumblr, but got lazy. Since Halloween is tomorrow, I finally got my act together.Perfect, Jemma thinks to herself as she finishes tying the polka-dot scarf around her neck and checks her reflection in the mirror.
“We’re late,” Skye calls from the living room of their apartment.
“I thought you said you wanted to be fashionably late,” Jemma calls back as she smooths out her skirt and grabs her cardigan off the bed.
“Yeah, well we told Fitz we’d be there at ten and you know how he gets with crowds of strangers. If don’t hurry up, he’ll just leave.”
“Ta-da,” Jemma announces as she opens the bedroom door.
“You look good,” Skye tells her as she takes in Jemma’s poodle skirt and cat-eye glasses. “The whole 1950s a cute idea. Although I did like that peacock costume you tried on at the store.”
“That was a joke Skye, I was never serious about the peacock costume,” Jemma protests. “It looked nothing like an actual peacock and I would have been freezing.”
“Only for the ten minutes it takes us to walk there,” Skye insists, but Jemma notices that she still throws her leather jacket on over her costume.
When they reach Trip and Mack’s apartment, the part is already going strong. Jemma makes the educated guess that Fitz has glued himself to Mack, who’s easy enough to spot above the crowd. When they finally push their way through to him, they’re rewarded with an uncomfortable looking Fitz, sipping a beer and nodding along to a conversation between Mack and their friend Bobbi.
“I mean, I get that you invited him when we were still together, it’s more that I can’t believe he actually came,” Jemma hears Bobbi say.
“I can,” Mack replies.
“Point taken,” Bobbi rolls her eyes.
“Jemma,” Fitz call out when he spots her, looking visibly relieved.
Bobbi and Mack pause their conversation as greeting are exchange.
“Are you supposed to be zombie Goldilocks?” Bobbi asks Skye.
“Yes!” Skye practically yells, and tosses the decapitated teddy bear she’s brought with her above her blonde wig. “Jemma couldn’t figure it out. And you’re a spy?”
“Sexy spy,” Bobbi clarifies, wiggling her hips as she runs her hands down the sides of her latex catsuit. “I am finally single again, and I this costume is going to help me take advantage of it.”
“Well, you’re definitely a lion,” Jemma says to Fitz, who is wearing a furry golden hood on his head, along with his usual printed button down and tie combo. She turns to Mack, “And you’re Frankenstein.”
Mack nods and absently adjusts one of the bolts glued to his neck, “Trip and I went with a classic monster theme this year.”
Jemma nods.
“I know. I snuck bandages out of the lab for him. Speaking of Trip, where is he?” She wants to know what he’s put together that required that many bandages.
“He’s manning the drinks station in the kitchen.”
“Well then I’m going to go get a drink. Skye do you want anything?”
Skye is engrossed in her phone, shooting dirty looks at the screen, so it takes her a moment to realize she’s being spoken to.
“What? Oh, could you grab be a beer,” she says before furiously jamming her fingers against the touch-screen.
It takes Jemma a while to push through the crowd to the kitchen, catch up with Trip on the goings on at the tutoring service they both work for, and then push her way back.
“You’re not seriously going to drink that?” Bobbi asks when she returns.
“If we were at some sketchy frat house, I wouldn’t. But Trip’s standing guard at the punch bowl. Besides, it was either this or beer. I don’t warrant a special drink,” she gestures towards the clear liquid in Bobbi’s glass.
“Yeah, well I know where they hide the good stuff during parties,” Bobbi explains.
Skye’s focus has shifted from the phone to the door of Trip and Mack’s apartment. Jemma’s not sure who she’s waiting for, though. She didn’t mention anyone joining them.
Bobbi and Jemma chat for a while about the lab internships they’re doing, with Fitz interjecting every now and then with stories from the internship he did over the summer. Soon enough, Mack excuses himself to talk to other guests.
“Fucking finally,” Skye mutters under her breath, and Jemma turns her head in the direction of the door to see who she’s talking about.
He’s tall, although probably not as tall as Mack, with dark hair and a mildly annoyed look on his face. Jemma can’t see much else over the crowd, but Skye’s already making a beeline for him, so she’ll probably get to meet him soon.
Sure enough, Skye reappears quickly, practically dragging the tall stranger behind her.
“Guys,” Skye announces as they approach the group, “this is my brother Grant. Grant, this is Bobbi, Fitz, and Jemma.”
As Skye’s roommate, Jemma’s heard a lot about Grant, but never actually met him. He and Skye are very close, and Skye adores him as much as she loves teasing him. Jemma frequently hears her on the phone harassing him about one thing or another.
Jemma can’t help but notice that with his leather jacket and slicked back hair, Grant is the perfect greaser to her bobby-soxer.
She can’t help but think this is the reason Skye was so interested in her costume plans.
Somewhat formally, Frant sticks out his hand to shake each other theirs. Jemma glares at Skye over his back and the other woman pretends not to notice.
Skye explains that Grant does security work all over the country and happens to be in town doing something for the university.
They all make small talk and Skye studiously avoids meeting Jemma’s eye. Grant manages to look engaged when the conversation to turns to the mechanics class Fitz is TAing this semester, which impresses Jemma because Skye usually pretends to fall asleep whenever he goes on about it for too long.
Still, Jemma can’t help but notice that Skye is subtly nudging Grant towards her. It’s starting to her on her nerves. Generally, when Skye tries to set someone up she at least gives them a warning, but Jemma was not prepared for this. Besides, he’s a complete stranger, and she’s so busy with school and her internship that there really isn’t time for a guy in her life right now. Even if he happens to have impressively broad shoulders and a highly symmetrical face.
Under most circumstances, Skye would advise her to not worry about romance and just hook up with them, but Jemma doesn’t think that applies to her brother.
“I’m going to get another drink,” Jemma tries to excuse herself.
“Could you grab me a beer?” Fitz asks.
“Me too,” Skye says.
Bobbi at least looks a bit guilty.
“Would you mind making me another martini? They keep the liquor on the top shelf of the first cabinet, behind the cereal. You know what, just have Trip do it,” she says.
Jemma’s considering how she’s going to carry all of this when Grant speaks up.
“Why don’t I give you a hand?” he volunteers.
Jemma wonders if she missed Skye elbowing him in the ribs to get him to offer.
Still, she does need the help, so she smiles and thanks him before leading the way to the kitchen. She doesn’t need to look behind her make sure he’s following, she’s painfully aware of his presence at her back.
It’s just as crowded in the kitchen as it was in the living room, so they have to squeeze their way through to the kitchen cupboards. Ward reaches up for the liquor at the same time Jemma reaches around him for the beer cooler, and he ends up pinning her against the counter.
They both freeze for a moment and Jemma’s body feels warm all over. Slowly, he put the bottle of gin on the counter and drops his gaze to meet hers, his body still pressed against hers. Involuntarily, she smiles at him and her mind races a mile a minute. His shoulders are so broad, his chest is so firm, that leather jacket really fits him well, he smells amazing.
It isn’t until some drunk guy knocks into her and barely misses dousing her in beer, that she realizes they’re both grinning at each other like idiots.
He has a nice smile.
She snaps out of it and quickly scrambles to grab the beers and a can of coke for herself, not even bothering to say hi to Mack, who’s relieved Trip at the punch table. When she returns, Ward is looking through the fridge, presumably for olives for the martini.
“Bobbi doesn’t like olives,” she tells him, and he seems to consider this carefully before silently following her back out to the living room.
“Jemma, you should totally show Grant the view from the balcony,” Skye suggests shortly after they’ve returned. She turns to Grant, “It’s really nice.”
Jemma swears that the only way Skye could be more obvious with her intentions is if she’s called the view romantic.
“Don’t they usually keep that locked during parties?” Jemma asks. “After Hunter trid to scale down the side of the building last year?”
Bobbi rolls her eyes.
“I have the key,” Skye says, holding it out in her palm.
Apparently she can be more obvious.
“That sounds nice,” Ward says.
Jemma wonders it it’s possible that he hasn’t figure out what his sister’s doing yet. Still, she takes the key from Skye’s hand and heads for the balcony.
She probably shouldn’t. Heading out onto a secluded balcony with her roommate’s hot older brother is not a good idea. He lives on the other side of the state, so Jemma’s not even sure what Skye’s agenda is. But she does it. And she can’t even blame it on the alcohol she’s had one drink and she’s not even feeling it.
“So…,” she says, when leaning back against the door as she closes it behind her. Either she’s forgotten how cold it is outside, or it’s gotten colder, because her cardigan isn’t going to be enough to keep her warm for long.
“So…,” he echoes.
They stand in silence for a bit before he speaks again.
“Does she try and set you up like this a lot?” he asks.
Of course he knew what she was doing, although Jemma’s not sure why he’s playing along with it.
She blushes.
“Not usually. She tends to meddle in the boys’ lives more. You?”
“Not since high school,” he shakes his head.
“You probably don’t need much help.”
He laughs.
“You’d be surprised. I haven’t really had much time for dating. Skye says I’m a workaholic.
“She’s probably concerned. You’re her favorite person in the world.”
He smiles at her again.
“Thanks. Maybe she’ll be less concerned now that I’m moving out here.”
This is the first Jemma’s heard about this move. She’s surprised Skye’s been able to keep it to herself.
“Oh,” is all she can think to say.
“Yeah, Skye said she’s going to stick around here after graduation and I figured, since work doesn’t really keep me in one place, maybe it would be nice to have a home base a little closer to her.”
It’s sweet, Jemma thinks, how much they care about each other. She’s an only child, and while she loves her parents, they aren’t exactly close.
As nice as it is outside with Grant, Jemma’s getting cold. She shivers, and Ward doesn’t even say anything, he just shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to her.
He looked good in the leather, but surprisingly it’s the white t-shirt that does the most for Jemma. It’s tight across his torso and she’s not sure whether to look at his biceps or pecs or abs first.
She takes the jacket from him and slides her arms through the sleeves. It’s heavy and huge on her; she knows she must look ridiculous in it.
“The… uh… collar,” Grant says in hoarse whisper, and reaches out to adjust it. His hand brushes against her neck and she feels his touch shoot through her body.
Jemma isn’t really interested in a set-up, but it’s hard to ignore how attractive Grant is.
Screw it, she thinks to herself, and lays a hand on top of the one fixing her collar. He’s hot, he’s sweet, and maybe this will go somewhere or maybe it won’t. She doesn’t care.
Startled, he looks down at her. The corners of her lips tug up in a small smile she looks down from his eyes to his lips.
He takes the hint.
His hand slides her from her neck to cup the side of her face, angling it upwards. He slowely leans down to kiss her. Immediately, Jemma’s arms wrap around his neck to pull him in closer and deepen the kiss. His mouth moves against hers and her fingers to with the hair at the nape of his neck.
The height different between the two of them means she’s on her tip-toes and he’s hunched over, but neither of them has any interest in stopping.
Jemma pulls out of his embrace for a minute and surveys the balcony. There’s a small, short table between two deck chairs on the other side of it. She’s pulls Grant towards it and steps on top. Now she’s a few inches taller than he is and they’re much more comfortable.
She reaches for him, sliding her hands along his chest. His arms wrap around her waist and pull her flush against him. His lips slide down her neck until they hit the scarf she tied there earlier. He quickly undoes it and they’re both too preoccupied to notice where it falls.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Jemma asks eventually.
“I am supposed to stay at your place tonight.”
She pulls him towards to door back into the apartment and through the party, stopping only to drop the door key on the living room table.
They’re halfway down the block when Jemma’s phone buzzes with a text.
Crashing at Bobbi’s tonight. Make Grant take you for breakfast tomorrow.