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Skye huddled underneath the blanket, staring at a screen as Jemma and Fitz worked down in the lab. Normally, she was down there with them. Normally, she’d be dragging Jemma out of the lab so that they could get to bed at a decent time and she wouldn’t have to worry about cranky scientists in the morning. Normally, normally, normally.
Nothing about this was normal.
She was a consultant for SHIELD, and managed to win a few favors by tricking Miles into giving up his employer, and that meant a little more latitude with her work. She was a hacker extraordinaire, and learning how to kick ass under the tutelage (she knew big words too!) of Agent Robo-Cop.
And her wife had contracted an alien virus.
Her world shifted less than thirty hours ago, but it wasn’t until about twelve that she realized how much she could lose. When AC locked Jemma in quarantine, none of her pleading and demands worked. Skye knew she’d be more of a nuisance than helpful if she was in there, but that was her wife, dammit, and…and…
“Skye?”
The young girl brushed the tears out of her eyes, frantic not to let the older agent cry. May was so stoic and perfect, and really everything she kind of wanted to be in an agent. Letting her see her crying wouldn’t do any good. Agents didn’t cry.
May entered with silent steps, and without so much as a ‘by-your-leave’ took a seat next to her. “Skye, she’ll figure this out.”
“I know,” Skye said, desperate to believe it, because she had no other choice. If she thought about the other option, thought of what else it could be, then she was left alone. Again.
Agents didn’t cry, but wives certainly did.
“Oh Skye.”
May wrapped her arms around her, pulling her out of her Jemma-scented cocoon. The blanket fell around her, crumpled up at her sides. But May’s arms held her tight, drawing her head to rest on her shoulder. The otherwise stoic agent whispered softly to her, but Skye couldn’t hear the words. She felt them, feather-light against her head as May tried to calm her down. It worked, after a while, but Skye felt so drained, so groggy. The shushing and the rocking only carried her further into a warm embrace, and for a moment, Skye could fooled herself into thinking Jemma was holding her.
A moment was all it took to cry herself to sleep.
I0I
“Need some help?”
Jemma looked up, meeting the eyes of a smiling coed. She had been trying to log onto the wireless connection in a coffee shop (that also served tea in an appropriate manner) and work on a dataset remotely. While the Academy was great, Jemma found her productive to be best sometimes when she left the confines of the laboratory. This productivity hinged upon accessing the data though, so currently she was battling with her laptop.
“Ummm…” The coed was about her age, maybe a few years younger. Tanned skin with dark brown eyes staring at her under a veil of blackish hair. She wore a mishmash of clothes – a jean jacket with a men’s t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d seen better days – but despite her unflattering dress, the girl was remarkable attractive. The smile alone surprised her. She was used to attention because she was no ugly duckling, but this smile was genuine, which was more than she could say about some of the students in the Academy.
“May I?” The girl took a seat next to her and slide the laptop around to face her. Jemma watched in fascination as the girl’s fingers flew across the keyboard. Up close, she could tell the girl was certainly younger than her, maybe barely even out of high school. For several minutes, Jemma just watched her work, and tried hard not to stare too much. Really, she was used to having the attention on her, not giving it, but this girl seemed confident enough that it may not be an uncommon thing for her either. She certainly was confident enough to walk up to a stranger and ask to help.
“And…done,” the girl said, swinging the laptop back around to her.
The screen now had up the program she needed, along with indicating a strong Internet connection whereas she typically got a spotty one. Jemma stared in awe, making the girl’s smile grow larger and more beautiful.
“You didn’t add anything?” Jemma asked. She couldn’t be too cautious, but the girl was technically a stranger. She didn’t even know her name.
“Well, you get free HBO now, but other than that, no,” the girl said. The smile shifted into a smirk, and really, Jemma couldn’t be upset. “I also blocked some nasty spyware you had. You should be careful about the porn sites you go to.”
Jemma stared at her in shock. Her face grew warm and it took everything she had not to run out of there and leave her laptop there. “What…how…I don’t….well, not often, but….”
“It’s okay, but I figured HBO may be a safer bet.” The girl shrugged her shoulders, but kept smiling and looking at her.
“I’m Jemma,” she said. “And thank you. For fixing it, not for the HBO thing, but that’s great too.”
“Skye,” the girl said. She held out other hand and Jemma quickly shook it. “And not a problem. For either of it. You just had that look on your face that most people get before they throw a perfectly good laptop through a window.”
“Well, you weren’t wrong,” Jemma said, laughing a little at the mental image. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“No, its okay, I just -” Skye didn’t finish her sentence as her stomach interrupted with a epic growl. The younger girls face turned bright red and she looked down, hiding behind her dark hair. Jemma wanted to see that smile again so she reached out and brushed some of the hair away so she could see Skye’s eyes.
“How about coffee and a muffin?”
“Thank you,” Skye whispered. “I…I really haven’t eaten today.”
“That’s okay,” Jemma said. She glanced at her laptop and then her watch. It was around noon, and she did work better on a full stomach. “How about lunch instead?” A muffin and coffee meant Skye could go, and Jemma wanted to know more about her. Most people only were brazen enough to approach her once, and then were intimated by her intelligence and her beauty, in that order, but Skye didn’t seem intimated, or if she was, she hid it well.
“Really?” Her eyes lit up at the offer. A part of her heart broke for such happiness, and now Jemma wanted to get to know her.
“Of course,” she said, gathering up her supplies. “I have to thank my knight in shinny armor somehow.”
“I didn’t do much,” Skye said, ducking her head again. This time, the embarrassment was from the compliment, not out of fear. How Jemma knew that, she wasn’t sure, but it was true.
“You did enough,” Jemma said. She stood and held out her hand to Skye. The other girl stared at it before taking it in her own. Together, they headed off to a sandwich shop Jemma enjoyed when she needed to get away. Right now, the Academy was the farthest thing from her mind.
I0I
Skye woke alone. Jemma’s blanket held onto her faded scent and Skye tried to cling to it and send her back to her dreams. But the flickering light of her laptop wouldn’t leave her alone. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, trying to chase the dreams away.
Except in front of her was a nightmare.
“Please be asleep, please be asleep,” Skye begged herself.
She watched Jemma step behind Fitz and swing a fire extinguisher at his head. He crumpled to the floor and all Skye could do was watch. The words choked in her throat as Jemma reactivated the door (never should have showed her how to do it) and then closed it behind her (shouldn’t have taught her that either). Finally, as she reached the ramp controls, Skye found her voice.
“MAY!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her legs felt like irons or else she’d run down there to stop Jemma. “MAY!”
The claxon of the alarms rung through the Bus, drowning out her screams. She was left there, watching as her wife, the only person who loved her enough to stay, was going to leave. In probably the most dramatic way possible, for all the right reasons, but she was leaving.
She cried out, feeling her soul drop as she watched Jemma disappear off the edge of the ramp. A moment later, another blur followed her out and off the ramp.
“Skye,” May rushed into the room, looking the most frantic she’d ever seen. Skye collapsed into May’s arms, giving up any resemblance of control. “She did it, but thought it failed. Ward has jump after her with the cure.”
Skye heard the words, processed them, and still they sounded like gibberish.
“He has her. Coulson is landing the plane. She’s safe.” Skye felt her chin being lifted up so she could make eye contact with May. “Say it with me: She’s safe.”
“She’s safe.” Skye whispered. She kept repeating it, trying to get her heart to slow down, for her brain to understand the words. May never let go, never looked away. She held her, and fought back the nightmare that had almost become her reality. They stayed like that until the plane landed somewhere and Coulson came looking for them.
“Want to come with?” He asked, giving her a gentle smile.
Skye nodded, ignoring the tears still trying to escape. May gave her another hug, whispering that it would be okay to her before letting go. Somewhere between comforting her and Coulson’s arrival, the older woman slowly began to shift back to the hard-ass that she wanted as an SO. Not that Ward was bad or anything, and he couldn’t be, not after saving Jemma, but May was the kind of women Skye admired and dreamed of being. Strong, sure of herself, and all around amazing. As she followed Coulson, she pushed those thoughts aside to focus on the most important thing in her life: her wife.
Skye needed to see her wife before the yelling started. Both by Coulson and by her. She needed to hold Jemma tightly and not let go for a long while. She now understood how Jemma felt after going to Quinn’s and being the source of that man’s ire. Skye acted for all the right reasons, but the right reasons do not necessarily justify the danger.
This was what being an agent was all about, and there was part of her that wanted to beg Jemma to give it up, to run away with her and never look back, but Skye felt that rush of adrenaline when she acted when no one else could. It was amazing, and something she wasn’t sure she ever could make Jemma give up. They would talk about this, and both of their propensity to jump first. They would work something out to save them both the emotional turmoil from any future heroics.
But that was later. First, there would be the mandatory cuddle time (which may or may not lead to life-affirming sex – thank God for soundproof pods).
I0I
How they moved from strangers to friends to roommates to dating wasn’t very complicated, but it was rather…unique. Jemma worried initially about explaining it to others but it never came up. It seems that sadly, even her best friend was too absorbed in his research to ask about her love life. This may have to do with the crush Fitz harbored on her, but even that faded with time. Now, given they were entering their final year and both were on track to finish in record time at the Academy, Jemma understood the preoccupation.
Skye, however, made sure that preoccupation didn’t consume her or destroy her. Yes, she was first in her class because homework was important, and yes, her dedication to her fields allowed her to take on the most challenging and rewarding tasks, but Skye held her safely on the ground. She was there when experiments went horrible wrong, and to celebrate every discovery with her. She held Jemma on the nights when it got too cold and lonely, and kissed away any doubts and fears. Jemma returned the favor and fought back the nightmares that surrounded Skye and made sure her love knew her worth – even if others didn’t or wouldn’t see it.
Jemma never knew she could feel such emotions. Growing up, she been courted off from one nannie to the next, sent to boarding school, and then university at a relatively young age. Her father wanted her to be a part of the family business, taking over their R&D department, while her mother remained mostly absent because of her good friends and better drinks. Her siblings were all older than her, and being the surprise child that she was, they knew very little in how to relate to her. Her father’s money isolated her even further, so it honestly was surprising how normal she turned out.
“Skye?” Jemma asked as she entered their apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs and it was home.
Normally, Skye beat Jemma home, if only because she hated her job as a tech specialist, which from her explanations sounded like just trouble shooting and telling people to try turning their computers off and then on. Also a lot of sexist men, but Skye handled that fairly well.
Jemma removed her jacket and hung it up, noting Skye’s was already there – she was here, just preoccupied. That was okay, since it usually meant either Skye was making dinner or working on some project. Taking a deep breath, Jemma figured it was the former rather than the latter, given the smells wafting through their studio apartment.
“Jem.” Skye appeared from their small kitchen, wearing the apron Jemma insisted on buying. They shared the flower covered monstrosity, and it saved many of her outfits when she attempted to cook, but Skye always managed to make the thing look sexy.
“What’s for dinner?” She asked, coming over to her girlfriend. Skye leaned down, kissing her lightly in hello. Jemma caught the brief flavor of tomatoes, and felt a slight tremble run through Skye’s body. “Italian?”
“Lasagna,” Skye said, “it’s almost done, so maybe you want to open a bottle of wine?” She quickly turned back to her work, checking the oven and removing a loaf of bread she’d spread garlic butter on. Skye bit her lip, glancing at the clock and then stove several times, and shifted the weight on her feet.
Jemma nodded, smiling widely at the dish and Skye’s uncertainty. She loved the comfort food, and Skye almost always made enough for leftovers, which really was the best part of the meal. But the bottle of wine was kind of a surprise. Skye was underage, so part of Jemma was torn on not having her drink but the other part was used to drinking and had alcohol well before she hit twenty-one. Americans were weird sometimes.
“Red okay?” They didn’t have a huge selection, but they usually always had a red and a white wine. They were cheap, but nice to have. Not for company, but for themselves.
“Perfect,” Skye said, letting her smile grow. Some of the anxiety Skye was feeling melted away as she stared at Jemma. Jemma followed her into the kitchen, gently bumping into Skye and running her hand along the exposed skin at her back. She felt the goosebumps form under her touch but kept moving, grabbing two glasses from one of their cupboards and the bottle of wine from next to the fridge.
Skye kept working but now a blush covered her cheeks. Jemma kissed the redness at the edge of her smile. She loved coming home to this, and if she had her way, this is what she’d do every day.
Jemma poured the two glasses and carried them over to the table. She stared at it, slightly surprised at the effort Skye put into setting it. Usually, they just grabbed some plates from the cupboard, or dishwasher if they were really being lazy. This looked different, but in a good way.
Two settings were placed next to each other, with two lit candles glowing. Cloth napkins were folded neatly and placed on top of the plates. The table itself was cleared of all the books and papers Jemma usually had stacked on there, and for a moment, she wondered where Skye put them all. Except the image caught up with her, as did the worry.
“Skye?” Jemma asked. She tried not to shake glasses, but really had she forgotten the date? This happened before, much to Skye’s amusement, and it wasn’t a one-time thing. Since then, she’d done better to be aware of the date, except…nothing happened today. Nothing important worth remembering.
“Be right there.”
“Why do we have candles? I didn’t even know we had them.” Jemma recovered enough to place the glasses down without spilling any, leaving her hands free to wring themselves.
Skye stepped out of the kitchen carrying the casserole dish. She placed it on a pad on the table before draping the towel over the back of her chair. She then motioned for Jemma to take her seat. “Sit, sit.”
“What’s all this for?”
Skye didn’t respond immediately, instead, she gave her a smile and focused on removing a piece of lasagna from the dish. She managed to not make a complete mess, concentrating on her actions and not concerned with how cute she looked with her tongue sticking out just a little bit. Once she excavated the pasta and placed it on her plate, Jemma leaned over and stole another kiss.
“Thanks,” she said before Skye say anything. “For dinner, for being my girlfriend, for being there.”
Skye stared at her for a moment, a long moment actually, but eventually she moved. She stood back up and reached into her front pocket. Jemma watched and it wasn’t until she removed the little box and placed it in front of her did she see how nervous Skye really was.
“I was going to ask later but…” Skye’s voice trailed off and she glanced at Jemma and the box, “you kind of summed it up perfectly.”
“I did?”
Skye nodded, now smiling a bit more. She reached out and took one of Jemma’s hands. “‘For dinner, for being my girlfriend, for being there.’ That’s…that’s more than I thought I could ever have. And I…I want to have that with you. Forever.”
Jemma leaned forward, kissing her harder and longer than before. Skye let out a small sigh into her lips and it only made her want to take her girlfriend to bed. But there were more important things to be handled right now. Jemma pulled back just enough space to whisper. “Say it.”
“Hmmm.?” Skye leaned back as well, only further and all the way into her seat. Jemma whined and nearly stomped her foot at the grin on her face.
“Skye.”
“Jemma Simmons, will you marry me?” Skye asked with no hint of fear. Jemma responded in the only way she could: She vaulted herself from her seat and tried to join Skye in hers. She wrapped her arms around her, kissing every inch of exposed skin and feeling ever ounce of warmth and love radiating from her.
“Yes,” she said between kisses, “a thousand times yes.”
“Dinner,” Jemma kissed her on the lips, “is going to,” another kiss, “get cold.”
“We can reheat it.” Jemma got out of Skye’s lap and pulled her up from the chair. “We need to celebrate. Properly.” Skye blushed a deep red, and willingly let Jemma pull her to their bed.
Happiness was more than a chemical response, more than science ever could give her. This moment, this day, she never thought anyone would give her, and Skye did. They didn’t have a lot, and she had no one to really share the news with, but she didn’t care. Dreams come true, especially when you weren’t searching for them.
I0I
Skye waited in the common area. She just came back from thanking Fitz, which involved hugging him tightly and whispering the words over and over again. He hugged back just as hard. The two of them knew how special Jemma was. Only they knew what the hole she left behind would truly mean.
Fitz had been great about everything one he found out. He’d been a little jealous and sad, though more sad than anything since he didn’t get to come to the wedding. (No one did, but that as kind of the point. She didn’t want to hurt Jemma’s chances with SHIELD, and it was the only secret they kept between the two of them.) He was great, and became the brother she never had, and he saved her wife. Which essentially was saving her life, since Skye wasn’t sure what would happen to her without Jemma.
Their consoling hug lasted long enough for Jemma and Ward to be fished from the sea. She caught sight of Jemma, wrapped in a blanket and dripping wet, as she walked back up the ramp. Her wife didn’t make eye contact, and that kind of felt like a gut shot, but she was okay. Jemma was safe, and cured, and okay. Everything would be fine. Maybe. If Coulson didn’t kill her first.
AC marched her past her and Fitz, with orders to dry off, change and meet in his office. Ward followed quickly, staring at her and Fitz for a moment before going off to change as well. May entered the Bus at a more sedate pace, closing the ramp behind her. Skye disentangled herself from Fitz’s long limbs as May came up to them.
“She’s fine, let Coulson say his piece,” she spoke softly and directly to her. Skye nodded as May reached out to cup her cheek. Her thumb brushed away tears Skye thought she’d run out of.
That led to her standing her, waiting for Coulson to finish up his conversation/yelling at them. She’d get her chance to yell at Jemma too, but she needed to see her, hold her, touch her. She needed Jemma Simmons.
It took all of Skye’s admittedly limited self-control not to glomp Jemma as soon as she exited Coulson’s office. She was still talking with Ward, and she waited until Ward noticed her, which seemed to take forever. Except Jemma saw her first.
“Oh, hello Skye,” she said calmly, even if she was anything but. Jemma kept wring her hands, and as she approached, she saw tears that matched her own.
Skye wrapped her arms around Jemma’s neck and pulled her up to her. Jemma’s hands slide under them, cupping her shoulders and grasping just as hard. Skye tried to bury her face in her shoulder. She was so tired of crying and she should be out of them, but this was different.
Jemma’s heart echoed loudly through her body. Any tension dissolved as they held each other. The world slipped away and Skye felt like she was back at the night when she proposed. The night when Jemma agreed to be with her forever. An hour ago, that seemed like a distance probability, but here she was. Safe.
“No more,” she whispered. Jemma nodded and kissed her neck lightly in response. She released some of her grip, enough for her to pull back from Skye a little. Her hands played with Skye’s hair, tapping out random patterns on her shoulders.
“Bed?” she asked, exhaustion seeping out her. Skye nodded, ready to go to their own little private space.
Once in their pod, Jemma let Skye help her strip out of her clothes. Skye dragged her hands down her sides, touching ribs and hip bones now more evident than ever. The virus ate away what little fat Jemma managed to keep on her body, and right now, she looked almost emancipated. Jemma just stood there, letting Skye’s hands and eyes roam her body. When she was down to just her underwear, Skye stepped back and quickly removed her clothing as well, tossing them into a pile in the corner. They slipped under the covers, Skye taking a moment to straighten the blanket she’d balled up while waiting for Jemma.
They lay in silence, Skye with her head pressed up against Jemma’s breasts. Their hearts echoed inside of her and she tried hard not to think about missing this. “I’m sorry.” The whispered contrition broke the silence. Skye just hugged her closer. There was so much she wanted to say, but the words escaped her.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated in a hoarse whisper. “I know I said I’d never leave you…but then I also said I…I’d never hurt you. You-you’re too important for me to risk anything Skye. And being an agent means sometimes…sometimes we do things we don’t like to protect those we care about. I had to protect you Skye. Above all else, I need you to be safe.”
She nodded into Jemma’s chest. She understood the logic behind it, she understood the emotions too. The problem with understanding though, it didn’t encompass everything. Her brain knew one thing, and her heart another.
“I love you,” Skye said in lieu of anything else.
“I love you too.”
Skye felt her own body relax at the words. Being an agent of SHIELD meant sometimes making the sacrifice play. She knew what that meant, understood what that meant, but now she felt it. She didn’t like and she’d argue against it, but she understood. It would be enough for now. Later, she’d talk with Coulson about increasing her training, maybe even ask May to help out. If Jemma was willing to go to such lengths to protect her, then at the very least, Skye had to at least meet those lengths too.
“I love you,” she whispered again. She let her hand fall to Jemma’s waist. Her hip bone jutted out, and her body still felt cold, but Skye gladly gave up her warmth for her love. She rubbed small circles on Jemma’s hip, her fingers brushing the neon green panties Jemma changed into after getting out of the wet clothes. Skye wondered vaguely where those clothes were, and if she could burn them – just in case the virus was still there.
She thought of many things, of shoes and ships, of sealing wax, of cabbages and kings. She thought of the Ward willing to dive out of a plane to save her wife. She thought of Fitz diving into the unknown on the offer chance it would save his best friend. Of May comforting her, offering her a shoulder to cry on and hold on to in the dark. Of Coulson holding it together, being a bastion of strength.
Mostly, she thought of Jemma. The light kiss on her head meant no life-affirming sex right now, but Skye didn’t want that. Jemma’s heart echoed through her, and it did more to ensure this was not just a dream and that she wasn’t alone than making love ever could right now. Jemma was here. She was safe, she was getting warmer, and she was here.
If Skye told herself that enough, maybe she’d actually believe it.