Femslash Feb Day #4 -Cafe
“This kinda reminds me of our first date.”
Jemma rolls her eyes. “I’ve already told you, Daisy, going undercover for that Hydra party doesn’t count as an actual first date.”
Daisy mimics her expression, right down to the exasperated side-eye that Jemma will swear later that she was not doing. “I don’t mean the undercover part,” she says, “I mean this part. The hanging out in a coffee shop part.”
The memory springs to Jemma’s mind, so suddenly and clearly that she swears the café they’re in now fades away completely and in its place is the small, hole-in-the-wall place they found in Atlanta during the lull between missions five years ago when they were still on the Bus and Daisy was still Skye and life was strangely less complicated than it would soon become.
The idea to slip away from the team for a little while and wander the city had been Daisy’s but Jemma hadn’t needed much convincing, not when she’d seen the sparkle in Daisy’s eyes and when the promise of spending a few hours just with her had settled over Jemma’s shoulders and replaced every other thought in her mind.
Jemma smiles. “You think of that as our first date?”
The way that Daisy’s cheeks color slightly now only further makes Jemma feel that sense of déjà vu because Daisy’s expression had been similar then: sheepish and tentative, uncertain and earnest. “Don’t you?” Daisy doesn’t give Jemma a chance to answer. “I definitely asked you to go hoping it was like a date thing.”
“It was a date thing,” Jemma says and she’s not at all surprised that the flutter that she feels in her chest now is exactly the same feeling that she had felt then, years ago, when she’d sat across from Daisy in another coffee shop. “I mean, you did pay for my drink.”
Daisy smirks. “Technically Coulson did. I stole the money from his wallet.”
Jemma laughs. “Color me surprised,” she says dryly.
“He just made it too tempting,” Daisy protests. “Who just leaves their wallet lying around?”
“Someone who probably trusts that his team isn’t going to steal from him.”
“Hey, I’m not sorry.” Daisy holds up her hands with a shrug. “I saw my chance and I took it.”
Jemma nods. “I’m glad you did. I was…I was nervous,” she admits. “I still wasn’t sure that you liked me.”
Daisy scoffs, waving her words away. “Are you serious? The whole tripping over myself and spilling the first cup of tea wasn’t a give-away?”
The memory makes Jemma smile. She wonders if it would be too much, to heavy-handed and embarrassing, to admit that she was half in love with Daisy by the time they left the café that day.
And now, in this café, years past that moment, Jemma reaches for Daisy’s hand and threads their fingers together. “You’re much smoother now.”
“Barely,” Daisy acknowledges with the same, sheepish smile she had worn that day.
“This is really sweet and all,” Mack’s voice says in Jemma’s ear, and Daisy’s as well, causing them both to sit up suddenly. “But you are undercover and I’m pretty sure our guys just walked in the door.”
Both Jemma and Daisy turn to look in the direction Mack has indicated, taking note of the two men who don’t look at all like the usual patrons of a coffee shop in the middle of Phoenix.
“After we get these guys, I’ll buy you another drink,” Daisy promises. “And I won’t spill it this time.”
Jemma gives her hand a squeeze before untangling their fingers. “It’s a date.”
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