For the next five sentences prompt: "It's fine, I'm fine, your fine, everything is fine"
“It’s fine,” Ward says. “I’m fine. You’re fine.” He sighs out a breath. “Everything is fine.”
“Right,” Jemma says slowly. She tips her head sideways to look over his shoulder, wondering what Skye makes of the way her boyfriend is holding another woman. It’s not precisely inappropriate - he’s held her similarly before while checking her over for injuries on the rare occasions she’s been forced to enter the field - but it’s been going on quite a while and the circumstances - a simple running into one another in the hall at the office - is hardly worthy of his concern.
Nightmare, Skye mouths. She adds a vague sort of gesture Jemma imagines might have something to do with falling or heights or … she doesn’t know. Whatever it is, it’s frightened Ward terribly.
Sympathy erupts in her chest and she can’t help but feel sorry for him. She can’t at all imagine what his work must do to him mentally and, though she’s thankful he and Skye do it, wouldn’t wish that pain on her worst enemy.
“I’m sure you’re both on your way somewhere important,” she says gently, hoping the reminder will entice Ward to release her. It does, but he’s plainly reluctant to do so. She lays a hand on his arm to ease some of his anxiety. “Why don’t the two of you stop by the lab before you go? Assuming you’ll have time? A little pre-mission check-up?”
Ward and Skye exchange a look. A whole conversation is conducted entirely via raised eyebrows and minute twists of the mouth. It’s truly impressive; Jemma wishes she could have that sort of a relationship with someone in the lab, one in which verbal communication is only a minor necessity because the two are so in sync, but it seems to come only from the sort of reliance on one another that field work requires. Pity.
“After,” Skye says, clearly to Ward’s annoyance. “Lunch? Or dinner? Just the three of us.”
The request throws her off. She’s friendly with Ward and Skye of course. They’re easily the operatives she knows best. But they’ve never been friends.
“A-all right,” she hears herself saying before she’s had time to recover her senses.
“Good.” Skye seems pleased. Ward less so. Though what that means, she couldn’t say. “We’ll see you later, W-” She coughs. “Whenever that is. Bye, Simmons.” She exits, practically dragging Ward down the hall with her.
“Hail HYDRA,” Jemma says weakly by way of goodbye, and waves after them.
A sharp glint of something pulls her attention away from the two of them. She examines her lifted hand, studying it. It seemed, for a moment, there was a ring on her third finger. Which is silly; she’s never been one to wear rings at all and certainly not there-
She’s hit suddenly by a strong, visceral memory. Anger - no, hatred - and the pain of her flat hand striking a cheek, the ring glinting in the sunlight like a knife slashing across her vision.
“Are you all right?”
Jemma breathes deep. She’s leaning against the wall and her heart is pounding. “I’m fine,” she says. Grant said she was, didn’t he? And that was him. In the memory. She can see clear as day in her mind’s eye the fury on his face and the pink of his skin where her hand struck him, made worse by the cut the blow opened up on his cheekbone.
“Dr. Simmons. Are you all right?”
For some reason, hearing her name snaps her out of it. The vision - not a memory, she’s never seen Ward so angry or with injuries like those, and she’s certainly never dared strike him or even had cause to - fades, leaving her free to face Dr. Radcliffe and the comfort she offers.
“Yes,” she says, shifting her weight away from the wall so that she’s standing on her own two feet again. “Yes, Aida, I’m fine. Sorry about that.”
Radcliffe smiles conspiratorially. “Maybe a little less caffeine?”
Jemma chuckles. “Yes. That might help.”
“Good.” Radcliffe slips her arm through Jemma’s and pulls her down the hall towards their lab. “And how about tonight we go out? Celebrate the weekend?”
“That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I might have plans with Agents Skye and Ward.”
Radcliffe scoffs. “‘Might have plans.’ You know how operatives are. They’ll probably be gone two weeks and forget about you completely.”
“I suppose you’re right…”
“Of course I am. So we’ll go out tonight and you’ll forget about them instead. Sound good?”
There’s really no saying no to that smile. “Fine,” Jemma chuckles. She settles into her work, intent on enjoying her day and not thinking at all about flighty operatives and their odd mood swings.
(And if she finds herself fisting her left hand frequently or swearing she can feel the weight of wedding rings beneath her gloves, it’s her imagination. Nothing more.)
omg you're part haitian!!!! i am too!!! on my mom's side!! that is so awesome!!!!
ayyyyyyyy
mine’s on my dad’s side, though, and i was raised with significantly more of my mom’s culture (chicana/mexican american, you know how it is) but yeah, my dad’s from haiti so on that side i guess i’m technically a first generation american? which is interesting to think about
HEY!!! Welcome back!! I am super glad everything is ok with you I was worried!! But I am so glad your summer has been awesome! If you don't mind me asking where are you studying abroad at?? I'm going to Paris for a semester in the spring! Anyway welcome back!! :D
oh no i’m sorry you were worried but it was v nice of you to think of me
and i’m going to england! it’s the only place i’m fluent in the language other than spain and i was pretty ehh with regards to living in spain and this way i figure i can travel around europe on my breaks!
but yeah i’m v excited to go back to europe this time to stay for a good long while and yeah !! i leave in september!!
Oh wait I didn't mean you were ugly in anyway!!! You are actually really pretty I hope you didn't take it that way! I'm sorry!!!!
oh my gosh it's so fine just me grumbling away in the tags don't worry about it i mean samantha barks was eponine i'd consider it a goddamn honor to be her
wait I agree with that person you would make a spectacular eponine like 1000000% absolutely fantastic!!! Also I am all for POC amis like actually my favorite thing how can people try and make them anything else ESPECIALLY for a modern AU. POC amis or go home!
okay, eponine, i can deal with that
and i kinda get it like with nikki m. james on broadway and all i see the connection
i woke up last night from a dream that we would grow old on bleeker street sit by the fire and i'll play my guitar but dreams are only dreams (aka my favortie song!!!!)
