Chapter Text
Click-clack, click-clack went the keyboard of Skye’s laptop. To most unknowing passersby, they would think she was working on some top-secret hack for Coulson or something of that nature. All but one Antoine Triplett suspected nothing.
Trip “just so happened” to be walking behind Skye’s computer and groaned at whatever was on the screen of it.
“Really, Skye, that blog dedicated to FitzSimmons again?” he asked. “I thought you’d gotten over it.”
Skye turned around in her chair, bouncing excitedly. “I can’t. They are my life.”
About six months prior, Skye had come to the realization that Fitz and Simmons would make a really, really, really cute couple. So, obviously, she went through the traditional way of trying to set two people up: by asking them. And, obviously, she got blushes and skirting responses that left her with the conclusion that they both liked each other, but they didn’t have the balls to admit it.
So, she did what any person would do if they were in her same situation:
Start a blog centered entirely around the two.
Using her “weirdly great” computer skills, she was able to inform the entire Internet about these two totally in love genius scientists. She had even gone to hacking into the Bus’s security cameras just to make gifs of these two idiots in love. And she knew that Ward said that it was “an invasion of privacy” and all that, but she knew that her rival shipper “fitzsimmonsinlove” was Ward. They reblogged too many puppy gifs for it not to be Ward.
Meanwhile, her blog, which simply had the URL “fitzsimmons” (and she was immensely proud she got that URL), had almost 5000 followers, all dedicated to knowing more about the infamous couple through Skye’s stories and gifs of the two.
“Skye, for the last time, you really shouldn’t be doing this,” Trip continued, sitting down next to her. “It really is an invasion of their privacy.”
Trip kept a good poker face, Skye had to admit. But she could tell the secret longing that hid beneath the faux sternness.
“You want me to teach you how to make a blog, Trip?” Skye asked, a devious smirk on her face. Immediately, Trip’s stoicism broke.
“Yes, oh my god!” Trip spurted out. “Girl, I can’t believe you made me – uh, what’s the word you always use?”
“Ship.”
“—ship them,” Trip finished. “Also, I can’t believe that you convinced me to want to make a blog about them. It’s all your fault.”
Skye could only smile as she opened up a “create new blog” tab on her browser.