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Hm, that’s an unexpected reaction, Simmons thought, staring at her slide. What on earth could be causing such an unusual interplay?
Perplexed, she referenced her notes, then the slide, then the notes again.
Fitz sighed loudly.
Simmons glanced up, briefly, at her lab mate. Fitz seemed distracted, absently twirling a pen in his fingers as he stared at the door. When no further signs of interaction were forthcoming, she went back to her samples.
Perhaps this culture was contaminated, somehow. She referenced her log of samples to confirm she had other slides she could view. Usually, she was meticulous in a way that prevented such mishaps but, occasionally, even the best scientist could be surprised by—
Fitz sighed again, derailing her train of thought.
She narrowed her eyes at him and counted to ten slowly in her mind. It was unusual for Fitz to be so obviously absent. It was even more unusual for her to be ignorant of the reasons behind this state of affairs. Skye’s teasing words about codependency in her mind, she resisted the urge to ask what was going on. Her and Fitz were different people. He had the right to his own private thoughts and struggles. Of course he did. She was absolutely, completely okay with that. Of course she was.
Of course.
She tapped her pen against the table with new resolve and went back to her slide. She had, indeed, prepared multiple slides of this sample, but was there anyway to collect fresh material? To fully rule out cross-contamination? Really, it was the only way to be sure.
Simmons absently turned over the options in her head as she returned to her microscope. It was fascinating, really. Cell behavior was always a treat to observe, especially when one worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. and was provided the opportunity to examine samples that most biologists didn’t even know to dream of.
As she moved her sample around, sketching the different parts in her lab notebook, she could feel a thought working its way through her brain. It was just out of reach, but she knew from experience that if she just let her brain crunch away on this on its own, it would eventually become clear.
As she sketched, she could feel the thought beginning to materialize. Could it be caused by some kind of synthetic polymer added in? That had to be it. Something synthetic, anyway. She felt like she should recognize this. She closed her eyes briefly to try to grasp the thought in her mind.
Fitz sighed again.
“Alright!” Simmons slammed her pen down on the table in frustration as the thought evaporated into nothingness. “Out with it!”
Fitz looked up at her, surprised. “Out with what?”
“Why on God’s green earth,” Jemma paced, gesturing furiously, “are you sitting in my lab, making such a commotion?”
“Our lab,” Fitz responded indignantly.
Simmons breathed through her nose, unwilling to concede that issue right now. “You were sighing. Loudly. In my lab.”
“Our lab,” Fitz responded again, also unable to move past irrelevant points.
“Ugh!” Simmons threw her hands up. “Here I am, trying to actually work, and what are you doing? Sabotaging me!”
Fitz sprang to his feet, looking affronted. “See, here! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it isn’t my fault that you can’t figure out your project.”
“Can’t?” Simmons burst out, “Of course I can. You are keeping me from being able to do it!”
Fitz’s response was cut short by a low chuckle coming from the door. In unison, Fitzsimmons turned towards the door, where Skye was lounging against the frame, looking amused.
“Everything okay in here, guys?” She asked, clearly entertained.
“No,” Fitz responded.
“He keeps sighing,” Simmons declared at the same time.
“Sighing?” Skye placed her hand on her chest in exaggeration. “The nerve.”
Now feeling silly, but still fairly disgruntled, Simmons huffed at Skye’s attitude.
Skye looked between them both and laughed again, shaking her head as she pushed off the doorframe and headed down the hall. “Try not to blow each other up,” she called casually as she wandered away.
Cranky, Simmons crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Fitz, who was still staring at the door Skye had just occupied.
Fitz fidgeted a bit, then sank back into his chair. “Fine,” he said. “I need your help.”
“On your project?” Simmons asked. “So, it’s actually you that can’t figure things out,”
she sniffed, perhaps a bit more harshly than absolutely necessary.
“My project is fine.” Fitz stopped and considered. “Well, fine, the prototype didn’t function quite how I was anticipating, but thats not the point.”
“What is the point?”
Fitz scooted his chair closer to Simmons table and looked at her beseechingly. “You know you’re my best friend. Even when you mistakenly project your failure to understand your samples onto me,” he added absently.
Simmons rolled her eyes.
Ignoring her, Fitz continued, “You’re the only person I can trust with this. It’s… frankly, it’s embarrassing, but I find myself unsure of the proper step forward.”
Unimpressed with his avoidance, but resigned to having this conversation, Simmons sat down on her stool.
“Go on then,” she pulled off her gloves, leaned her elbows on the table, and propped her head in her hands.
Fitz took a deep breath. “I need you to help me ask Skye out.”
Simmons frowned. This was unexpected. “Skye? Really? I had no idea. Isn’t this the kind of thing a person is expected to manage on their own?”
“Don’t be like that,” Fitz looked distressed. “Let’s be honest, here. We are geeks. And not necessarily the chic kind. How often will we get the chance to inhabit the same space as someone like Skye? She is the ultimate cool geek, and if I want to pursue her, everything needs to be perfect. Ground work needs to be laid! I can leave nothing here to chance.”
Simmons chewed on her cheek as she thought. “You can’t just ask her out, then?” She disliked the implications of sneaking around a dear friend.
Looking appalled, Fitz shook his head. “Absolutely not. My chances of success with be significantly increased if I can first make an effort to work myself into her life as something other than strictly a colleague.” He took in her expression. “Perhaps you can think of it as a social experiment, if it helps.”
Feeling unsettled, but knowing she didn’t have it in her to tell Fitz no on this one, Simmons let out a sigh of her own. “Where exactly do I come in?”
Fitz grinned. “I need a person on the inside.”
____
Nervous, Simmons paced the hallway. Just beyond those doors, her subject was innocently working on her computer (well, as innocent as Skye ever was on a computer), completely unaware that she was now the target of a full scale reconnaissance mission, headed by none other than her friend. Simmons thought she might be sick.
“Okay,” Simmons psyched to herself as she walked. “You can definitely pull this off. You totally can. There is no lying involved in any of this, so you will be golden.” She pivoted on her heel and headed back the other way. “You sincerely care about Skye, so all of that’s true.” Pivot, walk. “You think Fitz is great, so that should be rather simple to talk about.” Pivot, walk. “Oh, God, why did I agree to this?” Pivot, walk. “I’m not equipped for these kinds of tasks.” Pivot, walk. “I’ve been specifically brought on board for science, not people!” She stopped and leaned her forehead against the wall. “I just wasn’t cut out for covert operations!” She gently hit her forehead against the wall a few times.
Suddenly, she felt eyes on her. She rolled her forehead to the side to see May taking her in with an expression that managed to be both a scowl and completely expressionless. Simmons tried to muster a smile, but felt the grimace taking over.
Beside her, the door slid open.
Simmons jumped away from the wall, and stared wide-eyed as Skye exited the room, laptop tucked securely under her arm. Skye stopped, looked slowly between May and Simmons, and shrugged.
“One of those days, huh?” She asked Simmons, before ducking around May and heading away.
Simmons let out a breath and sagged against the wall, refusing to make eye contact with May. Ever unperturbed, May walked into the room Skye had just vacated without a word.
____
“And?” Fitz asked eagerly. “How is the plan progressing? Are you giving me a fine recommendation? Have you eased out any details of her courting preferences? Have you asked clever and subtle question to ascertain her current feelings for me?”
Simmons fidgeted with the science journal currently occupying her time, folding and unfolding the corner of the page. “Listen, Fitz, perhaps this isn’t the best idea. It feels…somewhat dishonest, and I’m a bit uncomfortable in this role.”
Fitz raised an eyebrow. “You blew it, didn’t you?”
“What?! I absolutely… That’s not… I’m perfectly capable…” Simmons sighed and put her head in her hands.
Disappointed, Fitz stared her down. “I knew it.”
“Listen, you don’t need me. Either she likes you or she doesn’t. There’s nothing I can do here.”
Fitz brushed her concerns away, ever earnest. “Don’t say that. You’re my best friend. You are also pretty much Skye’s best friend. There is no one better suited for this task than you. Please, Jemma.” He gave her his best puppy eyes. She hated the puppy eyes.
“Alright,” she said slowly.
“Alright,” Fitz repeated, in a much more chipper tone. He clapped his hands. “Back to it, then!”
Groaning, Simmons pushed up from her spot and headed out to find Skye.
______
Simmons took one final look at her pod. She had extra blankets and pillows, beverages, snacks, and movie selections. Girls night was officially a go.
She smiled, feeling better about the whole situation. What better than a low-key social setting to make Skye (and herself) more at ease and set the stage for the mysterious ‘girl-talk’ that supposedly happened at these things (so she’s heard). And what better to talk about than their love lives? Yes, she could totally handle this whole ‘girls night’ thing.
An upbeat knock sounded at her door, and she bounded across the short distance to open it. Naturally, it was locked, and she struggled with the mechanism for a second before finally succeeding in opening the door and revealing a smirking Skye.
“How’s that whole door-opening thing working out for you?” Skye teased.
Simmons laughed, her face turning red, feeling pleased and embarrassed all at once. “Well,” she teased back in a haughty tone, “That certainly wasn’t covered in any of my Ph.D.s, so I’m afraid I can’t be held accountable for that.”
Skye chuckled and stepped inside the pod, taking in the preparations. “Thanks for having me over. It’s nice to just, you know, not have to save the world or anything.” She looked at Simmons and smiled.
Feeling a bit flustered, Simmons went over to her small end table. “I can offer you popcorn, M&M’s, some kind of crazy packaged cookies that can’t possibly be made from any real ingredients, and soda. Also, water.”
Skye sat on the bed and leaned over to peruse the choices. “No twizzlers?” she asked, sounding mildly disappointed.
Simmons looked up in alarm. “Oh, dear. Is that wrong? I’m sorry, I don’t actually understand this whole girls’ night thing. I was just winging it. I hope the night hasn’t been ruined. Would you like me-“
Skye placed a hand on her forearm, stopping her nervous speech. “Take a breath, Simmons. This looks great. And, you’re not the only one winging it. Living in a van isn’t exactly conducive to sleepovers. How about we wing it together?”
“Right.” Simmons took a breath. They would make it through together. Everything was going to be fine. “What movie would you like to watch?”
____
Two hours and one Matrix movie later (“heroes, hotties, and hackers,” Skye had promised with a grin) found both of them lying on Simmons bed, heads at opposite ends, debating the philosophical points of the movie.
“I gotta be honest,” Skye mused. “I would be much more comfortable with my destiny as a hero, or even my death, being foretold than my love interest.” She reached for some M&M’s and shook them in her hand, like dice about to be rolled. “I mean, how are you supposed to let anything happen organically? You would be second-guessing everything. All the time.”
Simmons shifted uncomfortably, suddenly reminded about her role in helping construct an inorganic love interest for her friend. She cleared her throat. “Well, you know, perhaps a little structure is a good thing.” She winced, ignoring Skye’s bemused look and plunged onward. “Perhaps it helps us…reframe our…initial impressions…of those around us….on the bus,” Simmons petered off, too embarrassed to try to continue. Some wingwoman she was.
“Ooookay,” Skye said, giving her an affectionate look that usually meant: I think you’re strange, but I like that about you. “Well, how about you, Dr. Smooth? Any initial reframings going on in your life?”
Simmons frowned. “Of course not. When on earth would I have time for that? Not to mention having to explain away strange absences and seemingly unexplainable occurrences. With my secret keeping skills, I would no doubt lose my clearance in a week.”
“Right?” Skye agreed between tossing her M&M’s up in the air and trying to catch them in her mouth. “You know how civilians are.”
“You are a civilian,” Simmons reminded her practically.
“Yeah, but I’m a special one,” Skye replied, wincing when a candy hit her tooth.
Simmons rolled her eyes. “I’ll say.”
Skye gave her her best roguish grin, then shrugged. “But, really, I’ve mostly given up hope of a normal dating life.”
Simmons sat up. “Absolutely not,” she said emphatically. Skye looked at her, confused. “You are absolutely not allowed to give up hope, so you get that right out of your mind. Right out.”
Skye looked at her suspiciously, “Okay pot, don’t go all kettle on me. Or at least do it in a less alarming way,” she muttered as an afterthought.
Simmons leaned forward and grabbed Skye’s wrist. “Skye. You cannot give up.” She said seriously. “I want nothing more than for you to be happy. It’s important to me.”
Skye wordlessly returned her gaze. After a few moments, she broke the silence.
“More important than science?”
Simmons faltered, then realized her mistake and cringed.
To her surprise, Skye burst out in deep belly laughs. She scooted to Simmons’ side of the bed, put her arm around her and pulled her down to lay on her shoulder. “Never change, Simmons,” she sighed contentedly.
___
“Organic, yes,” Fitz mused as he paced about the lab. “We can totally do that!”
“Fitz, not to interrupt your train of thought here, but organic is absolutely the opposite of what we are doing here!” Simmons ground out from her lab stool. She felt more and more uneasy about her role in this mess as time went on, unsure how to reconcile both being supportive of Fitz and being honest with Skye.
Fitz waved her off, clearly caught up in his excitement. “This is just perfect. Here’s what we’ll do: We have a nice bit of shore leave coming up. You will invite Skye out with us, then back out at the last second. It’s perfect! It will be a totally organic situation!”
Simmons took a deep breath, somehow finding it in herself to not argue the definition of ‘organic’. “Alright, but this is it. If this doesn’t work, you are on your own. I’m not fond of this game and I don’t much want to play it anymore.”
Her seriousness finally penetrated Fitz’ happy haze, and he stopped pacing to look at her. After a moment, he nodded. “Of course. I appreciate the help you have contributed.” Simmons nodded gratefully back at him. “It’s all the help I’m going to need,” he continued to himself, rubbing his hands together. He didn’t notice Simmons leaving with an eye roll.
___
Simmons lurked, rather awkwardly, she admitted, outside Skye’s pod. The door was open, and she knew from her first hopefully-casual walk-by that Skye was busily tapping away at her laptop. This was all she had to do, she mentally encouraged herself, then she was done with this mess.
“So, whaddaya think?” The voice startled Simmons away from the wall. Uncertain, she stayed quiet.
“You going to come in and tell me what’s up, or are we both going keep pretending that you aren’t out there?” Skye sounded, as usual, not at all fazed by her strange behavior. Sucking in a breath and trying to bolster her courage, Simmons leaned around the doorway.
“Yes, of course. Skye. How are you? Well, I hope. Lovely day. Great for hacking,” She hoped her smile was big enough to cover the accompanying cringe.
“Yeah, it totally is,” Skye kindly saved her from herself, as she often did. “Just setting up a few bots to do some work while I’m out and about.”
“During our weekend of shore leave, yes?” Simmons repositioned herself to try to lean casually against the door frame. She felt so stiff it was hard to tell if she succeeded.
“Sure thing,” Skye grinned at her. “What are you cats up to on our rare and beautiful two days off?”
“Well,” Simmons fidgeted with the hem of her cardigan, then caught herself and stuffed her hands in her pockets instead. “Fitz…well, Fitz and I…we were wondering…if you had any interest…if you maybe wanted to join us at a movie tonight? Maybe grab a bite to eat beforehand?”
Skye made a few more decisive clicks on her laptop and pushed it closed. “That sounds great. Just let me know when you are heading out.” She stood, walked to the door and grabbed Simmons shoulders, gently moving her from her awkward position and out of the doorway so she could exit the pod.
“Catch ya later?” she asked a frozen Simmons, who just barely managed to nod. Skye shook her head and gave Simmons shoulders a gentle squeeze before she disappeared down the hallway.
___
Simmons sat determinedly in front of her microscope. The samples were fascinating. Of course they were. Now, if only she could actually pay enough attention to them to figure out why.
“Hey.” Skye’s voiced made her jump. She looked up to see Skye leaning against the table in front of her. “You about ready to roll out? I’m not sure Fitz’s bowtie can survive another adjustment before it just gives up and falls off.”
Simmons straightened her lab notebook and cleared her throat. “Oh, dear. Is it that time already?” She reached out and straightened her pen for good measure. “I’m on the verge of a major breakthrough, here, Skye. I’m not sure I can leave my samples, now. Why don’t you two go on without me?” Failing other options, she reached out to straighten the slide on the microscope.
The prolonged silence finally forced her to look up. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Skye with that particular expression on her face. She had no idea what it meant.
“Okay,” Skye finally replied, and pushed off the table.
Suddenly feeling like she’d made a horrible mistake, Simmons could feel her nerves take over. “If that’s okay,” she babbled at Skye’s back as the other woman turned to leave. “I don’t mean to go all science-nerd on you, it’s just an exciting find, I don’t want to lose my flow-“
Skye paused and looked back to smile reassuringly at Simmons, who didn’t feel reassured at all. “It’s all good, Simmons. Go, save the world.”
With that she left Simmons alone in the lab, staring down at the table and hoping the crushing pressure in her chest would ease soon.
___
“Hey.”
For the second time that night, Skye’s voice startled her, and she jumped, hastily trying to wipe the tears off her face.
Skye silently took in her microscope, lab notebook, and pen, all exactly where they had been meticulously placed hours ago during their previous conversation. “You don’t look like you’re making the progress you wanted to,” she stated. Simmons, to her horror, could feel her face heating up and her eyes beginning to water again. In an attempt to distract from her mortifying emotional state, Simmons sprang up off her stool and began to tidy away her supplies.
“You know, it happens sometimes,” Simmons said, as cheerily as she could manage. “It’s rather easy to lose the flow, occasionally.” She placed the microscope on the back counter and took the opportunity to surreptitiously wipe at her eyes again.
Behind her, she heard Skye walk to her table, pull out a stool, and sit. “Simmons,” she said, rather seriously. More seriously than Skye usually said anything. “Have you been trying to set me up with Fitz?”
Resigned to her fate, Simmons returned to her stool, opposite Skye. She stared at the table, unable to make eye contact. “I…” She hesitated, then steeled her resolve. “Yes, I have.” She ignored the fresh tears that were beginning to work their way down her face, and hoped Skye would be gracious enough to ignore them, as well.
“You don’t seem very happy about that,” Skye commented, her tone neutral.
Simmons let out a noise that could have been a laugh or a sob. “I’m not sure why. I want Fitz to be happy. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy for you. It’s just…not quite going how I anticipated.” Simmons hid her face in her hands. “Are you horribly angry at me for meddling?”
Skye ignored her question and got up to walk around to Simmons’ side of the table. She leaned back against it, so close that Simmons could feel her body heat, warming the air between them.
“You are angry, aren’t you?” Simmons could hear her voice crack, but plunged ahead anyway. “I’m so sorry, Skye, I felt awful the whole time, not being completely honest, but I just wanted to help, it seemed like it would be harmless, and maybe even helpful.” Still unable to look at her, Simmons felt Skye crouching down beside her, sliding her hand along the table to grasp her forearm.
“Okay,” Skye said. “Now you have been completely honest. I’m not mad. Do you feel better about me and Fitz?”
“No,” Simmons admitted, miserably. “I’m a horrible-”
“Jemma,” Skye cut in calmly. Simmons was startled enough by the deliberate use of her first name to look at her. “Have you spent anytime thinking about why you’re so upset about me and Fitz going out tonight?”
Skye patiently met Simmons startled gaze. “Well…” Simmons trailed off. She hadn’t, actually. She had spent so much time agonizing over keeping things from Skye, mostly to avoid having to discern exactly what it was about Fitz and Skye…her thoughts trailed off. Skye’s eyes were so close, so unflinching, it was hard to hold a thought in her mind. In a daze, she felt her gaze drop to Skye’s lips, and watched them promptly curl up into a smirk.
“Oh,” Simmons breathed.
“Yeah. Oh.” Skye agreed before leaning forward and pressing their lips together.
Simmons leaned back and stared, completely gobsmacked.
“Jesus, you’re such an oblivious nerd,” Skye said, theatrically rolling her eyes.
Simmons could feel herself starting to get worked up at the accusation, but Skye merely laughed and kissed her again, effectively shorting out her thoughts. Ever efficient, Simmons quickly refocused on kissing Skye back.
Fitz wasn’t going to be pleased, but sometimes social experiments took unpredictable turns. Simmons can’t take the blame for that.