skimmons + "don't tell me that's what i think it is"
The slamming of the front door manages to bring Jemma back to the present and she feels groggy and disoriented, like she’s woken up from a long nap instead of been distracted from the work spread out around her. She blinks, squinting her eyes and glancing over her shoulder. The clock on the microwave informs her, a bit judgmentally, that it’s after five. In the afternoon. Jemma sets aside the scalpel that she’s been using, stretching out her fingers and rolling her neck and shoulders. Her body is a little unhappy with her right now.
“Jemma?” Daisy calls from the hallway and Jemma hears the tell-tale sign of boots hitting the floor and not being put in their proper place. “What’s that smell?”
Guiltily, Jemma looks toward the work that she’s got spread out on the kitchen table. She’d fully intended to go into the lab today but it had seemed so much easier to have one of the students from the lab bring the specimens to her apartment. It had certainly made sense at the time. When Jemma hadn’t intended to spend the entire day pouring of paperwork, specimens and slides. When she hadn’t intended to still be at it when Daisy came home.
Quickly Jemma shucks her lab coat and gloves, hurrying out of the kitchen to meet Daisy in the entryway and stop her before she can catch her red-handed.
“Hello,” Jemma grins as she slips her arms around Daisy’s shoulders, pulling her in for a kiss, “how was your day?”
Daisy kisses her in return, fitting her hand against the small of her back. “No one died.” The tone of her voice almost makes Jemma wonder if this is a common occurrence or a figure of speech. She kisses Jemma again before looking at her dubiously. “Seriously. What is that? And why are you acting strange?”
“I’m not acting strange.” Jemma protests quickly, tightening her grip on Daisy to keep her from stepping out the embrace. “I’m just happy to see you.”
Daisy looks dubious and Jemma scoffs. “Should I be offended?” She asks. “Am I not normally happy to see you?”
“I’m used to the distracted kiss on the cheek and papers spread all over the couch.” Daisy remarks, her tone only slightly teasing.
Jemma isn’t entirely sure that she can argue with that particular comment. “Well…”
Suddenly Daisy’s eyes narrow in suspicion and Jemma has a feeling that the jig it up. Daisy slips away from her, stepping toward the kitchen. Jemma winces, quickly hurrying after Daisy.
“Jemma.” Daisy’s voice is terse as she looks at their kitchen table. “Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”
Jemma looks at the specimens on the table, the pieces that she’s carefully removed from the whole and set around on various slides and metal pans and wax paper. “Okay…” She purses her lips. “I won’t tell you…”
Daisy just rolls her eyes, looking back toward Jemma. “Again?”
Jemma gives her what she hopes is a beguiling smile. “Well, last time, it was the liver and this time it's…not technically…human body parts…anymore…”
Daisy sighs, shaking her head. “I guess this means we’re getting takeout tonight.”
So this is probably a weird way to fill this one but I was inspired by the end of 3x16 and this gif set right here so I kinda just…went with it?
They don’t really need rescuing, per say. Not in the way that Daisy had originally envisioned after receiving May’s transmission and enlisting Joey and Elena to help them retrieve her team from Ward and Giyera. She should have known; she has faith in them, after all. Though you wouldn’t be able to convince her to just sit back and let them solve the problem all on their own.
Daisy watches as Coulson and Fitz help May to the Zephyr, trying to ignore the way that the sight of her -pale, bloody, weak, exhausted, cheeks tear stained- twists her stomach into knots. It’s like everything she’s ever known has suddenly just been flipped onto its head and while she’s certain that May is going to be okay, she still feels like something is irrevocably broken.
Quickly, Daisy turns away, not to turn her back on May but to search for the one person she has yet to set eyes on. She steps away from Joey and Lincoln, moving deeper into the abandoned building even though all she wants to do is get back on the plane and back to the base and bask in the comfort of having all her people around her again.
But she can’t do that without one specific person.
Daisy finds Jemma easy enough; she’s not exactly hiding but she seems to be hesitating, as though she’s moving a step or two behind everyone else.
Jemma is sitting on the ground with her back pressed to a cabinet, her arms wrapped around her knees which are drawn up to her chest. Her knuckles are raw and there’s a streak of blood across her forehead that isn’t thick enough to belong to her. Daisy recognizes the look in her eyes, the flinty hardness that speaks volumes about things that have changed.
When Daisy sees her, she feels like a part of herself has been returned and she drops down beside her, putting her arms around Jemma without hesitation. Jemma folds into her, smelling like sweat and fear and someone else’s blood and a wisp of lavender that immediately makes Daisy feel at home. She holds onto her tightly and everything else seems to fall away.
“Hey,” Daisy says softly as she finally pulls away, rubbing at the blood on Jemma’s forehead, “did you take ‘em on all by yourself?” She’s teasing in a way, her words gently probing at the subject, the stability, all the words unspoken.
Jemma tries to smile in return and there’s a fierceness to that gesture that’s mirrored in her eyes. “Ward and I still have unfinished business.” She tells Daisy frankly and Daisy takes the words, turns them over in her head, cataloging them for later. For a time when it’s just the two of them and they’re wrapped up in one another and safe from everything else. “Is May all right?”
Daisy nods. “She’s had better days.” She replies honestly. “I don’t think…” She thinks about May, shaky and uncertain, being helped away. “I’ll never unsee that.”
Clearly Jemma knows exactly what she’s talking about because she doesn’t ask for an elaboration. She only nods, leaning into Daisy. Having Jemma in her arms, being able to ascertain that her team is safe and whole and together, suddenly makes Daisy feel overcome with exhaustion and she so badly wants to lean on Jemma too, to close her eyes and turn it all over to someone else instead.
But she doesn’t. Not now. Instead, she slips her arms around Jemma’s waist and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. She shoulders Jemma’s weight easily, just as Jemma has done so many times before for her. And just as they’ll do so many times after this, thanks to this life they’ve chosen.
“Come on.” Daisy says, slowly untucking herself from Jemma to stand them both up. “The quicker we get back to base, the quicker we can eat ice cream in our pajamas and pretend we don’t hear Coulson when he wants something.Jemma smiles at her, the gesture softer and easier now than it was before. "I’m not sure how Coulson will feel about that.”
Daisy shrugs, taking Jemma’s hand firmly and walking with her toward Zephyr. “Hey, everyone needs a day off. And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
"Do you think people would believe that there was an earthquake?" Daisy questions, rolling over onto her back so that she can stare at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. "I mean, that would be a pretty great prank, right? Making everyone think-"
"That there was a natural disaster?" Jemma supplies for her, giving her a dubious look. "Yes, hilarious." She pokes Daisy in the shoulder. "And while I hate to rain on your parade, I do have to point out that since everyone in the base knows that you have the ability to simulate an earthquake, it might not be all that believable."
Daisy frowns, her brow furrowing. "You're right." She mumbles, pursing her lips. "Okay, so scratch that idea. Even though, you have to admit, that it is kind of excellent."
Jemma hums noncommittally. She does not have to admit anything of the sort, but she'll let Daisy have her fun.
Daisy turns her head so that she can look at the woman lying in bed beside her. "We could cover all the door knobs in grease so that no one can get into their rooms and-"
"That would take a lot of time." Jemma points out. "And while I do have to admit that the idea of watching Hunter struggle to turn a doorknob is quite humorous, it seems like the type of thing that isn't going to end well for us."
With a sigh, Daisy rolls her eyes. "Okay, so use that big brain of yours to figure out some great April Fools' prank." She entreats, rolling onto her side so that she's face to face with Jemma. "I know you've got it in you."
Jemma smirks. "Well, I always did want to prank the underclassmen at the Academy."
Daisy nods, grinning. "Yes, dig deep into the mischievous Jemma Simmons that we all know is there." She looks at Jemma hopefully. "Do your worst."
Jemma crinkles her nose in concentration and Daisy has to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her. She doesn't want to interrupt the thought process.
"Well, we can fill several glasses with water but place the glasses upside down so that the suction of the glass on the surface keeps the water inside but it will be quite difficult to move the glasses without spilling the water everywhere and-"
"Okay, stop." Daisy holds up a hand to illustrate her point. "What are you even talking about? That's not a good prank."
Jemma glares at her. "It's equally as good as your idea to cover all the door handles in grease."
Daisy scoffs. "That prank is a classic. I can't believe I let you talk me out of it; I could be greasing doorknobs right now." She shakes her head, mourning the loss of a brilliant joke. "What else?"
"Why is this so important to you anyway?" Jemma asks rather than spend another second trying to think of ways to prank her teammates. "Don't you think April Fools' Day is a rather juvenile holiday?"
Daisy looks personally offended by this comment. "It's hilarious!" She protests. "I mean, what could be funnier than covering a doorway with Saran-Wrap and watching someone walk into it! Actually…that's not bad…"
Jemma rolls her eyes. Honestly, if she didn't love Daisy so much… "It seems ridiculous to me."
This doesn't seem to surprise Daisy. "Well, you just need to get creative. Then you'll think of something brilliant and understand where I'm coming from." She shrugs. "Besides, I think we could all use a laugh right about now, right? I mean, it would be a nice break from the gloom and doom and constant threat of death."
"Well, when you put it that way." Jemma grumbles. "Nothing says forgetting about the constant threat of death like greased doorknobs."
Daisy gives Jemma a quick kiss. "I knew you would see things my way."
Jemma smiles, shaking her head at Daisy. "You know, you should have put more thought into this earlier." She remarks.
"Why?" Daisy looks at her questioningly. "Are you doubting my skills?"
Jemma manages to swallow down a laugh. "No, of course not." She assures Daisy quickly. "Just…" Her expression falters.
Daisy quirks an eyebrow. "What?"
"Well…April Fools' was yesterday." Jemma tells her gently. "It's already the second."
Daisy's eyes get wide and her face shifts into a comical expression of horror. "What? No, that's not possible. The calendar…"
"It's the jetlag." Jemma pats her on the shoulder. "It makes it hard to keep track of everything and-"
Daisy groans, covering her face with her hands. "I cannot believe I missed April Fools' Day…all those great prank possibilities…wasted…"
She looks back toward Jemma, who is grinning at her. Daisy frowns. "What?"
BABE. Do me a favor? Quick lil favor?? Jemma and Daisy are fighting and Jemma really doesn't wanna give in and kiss Daisy cause she's so pissed but Daisy is being so fucking annoyingly sexy while training and she's all sweaty and some angry ass supply closet smut would be perfect right now.
Well here you are, anon! I hope this is what you had in mind. I’m pretty terrible at smut so it’s only slightly NSFW-ish but I hope it still makes you happy!
The fight was honestly ridiculous and pointless and Jemma can’t even really remember what they had been fighting about in the first place. Well, that’s not entirely true. Jemma is still pretty sure that the fight was completely valid and that she was absolutely right on all the points that she had been trying to make and the only reason she can’t remember what the fight had involved is because she’s currently very distracted by Daisy’s abs and it’s very unfair. Because if it wasn’t for Daisy’s insane abs, Jemma would definitely not be faltering in the belief that she’s absolutely right and that Daisy should be the one to apologize and try and kiss and make up.
Metaphorically, of course. Because Jemma is definitely not in the mood for any kissing right now.
Of course not.
The worst part is that Jemma is pretty sure that Daisy doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. She’s just going through her training with May like she does every day, unaware that the sight of her muscles and those abs that definitely did not exist on the computer hacker they found living in a van are making it very hard for Jemma to focus on her own job. Of all the days to be pulled out of the lab to monitor Alisha’s vitals.
Jemma grits her teeth, rolling her eyes and forcing herself to turn away from the display that is Daisy Johnson. Fitz smirks at her and looks like he’s about to make some ridiculous and totally unwarranted crack but he must see something in her eyes because he stops quickly, swallowing down whatever comment he was about to make. Smart man.
With her back to Daisy, it’s a lot easier for Jemma to focus on her work and remind herself why she’s mad at Daisy in the first place. Because that’s what really matters, right? They’d shouted at each other for the better part of an hour, sequestered in the relative privacy of their shared room, though Jemma is sure that everyone on the base could have heard them easily because there’s a lot to be desired when it comes to soundproofing and privacy at the Playground. Daisy had thrown out a few of her favorite insults: “stubborn,” “ridiculous,” “spoiled” and so Jemma had lobbed back a few volleys of her own: “idiotic,” “reckless,” “infantile.”
Honestly, Jemma thinks that anyone who knows Daisy would obviously have to agree with her side of things.
Despite Jemma’s personal vow to never end an argument in an argument, they’d both stormed off to their separate posts in the base, with Jemma shouting over her shoulder, “if you want to go out there and get yourself killed, see if I care!” to which Daisy had rather unimaginatively responded, “Fine! Maybe I will!” Jemma can only hope that Daisy continues to replay that last line in her mind and kick herself for not coming up with something better.
Only, as is just Jemma’s luck, Daisy hasn’t left the base to go off on some ridiculous mission to get herself shot but is stuck in the same room, looking infuriatingly good in black sweats and tousled hair.
Jemma stares at the same scribble of writing for five minutes before she finally groans, shaking her head and turning around again. Knowing that Daisy is here, so close and yet somehow so untouchable is making it impossible for her to focus on anything else.
Honestly, if someone would have told her a few years ago that she’d have a thing for bull-headed, sweaty superheroes she would have laughed in their face. But now…sweaty really isn’t a bad thing…especially not on Daisy…especially not when it reminds her of what they had been doing only a little while before they started arguing.
Jemma tries to swallow but her throat suddenly feels tight, her mouth dry and she just clears her throat, though it’s a sad sort of choking sound. Fitz looks over at her again. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Jemma clears her throat again, this time with more success, tightening her grip on the file in her hands. “Fine.”
Fitz looks at her dubiously. “Your cheeks are really flushed.”
Jemma glares at him. “Those comments are not helpful, Fitz.” She snaps. “We need to keep an eye on those vitals and-”
Fitz gives her a sympathetic look. “Alisha left five minutes ago.” He says. “You told her that she could go?”
Jemma makes a strangled sort of thoughtful sound, trying to remember this particular conversation. She has the feeling it happened around the time that Daisy was stretching her arms over her head to roll back her shoulders, giving her the first peek of those abs. She’s pretty sure her exact words to Alisha were something like “huh? Oh? Yes?” when Alisha asked if she was free to go.
“Well,” Jemma’s eyes are pulled back toward Daisy, who is following May’s lead in stretching out her muscles and suddenly it’s impossible to remember why she was ever so mad at Daisy in the first place, “I suppose we need to move on to the next one then.”
Fitz’s brow furrows. “Huh?”
Jemma hands over Alisha’s folder, turning back toward Daisy. “Daisy.” Both women look in her direction. “Can I see you for a moment? We need to do some tests.”
Daisy gives May a look that is almost enough to remind Jemma of why she was frustrated with her in the first place. But there are enough things to distract her from the growing need to roll her eyes at her girlfriend.
Neither of them talk as they leave the gym and Jemma can see Daisy out of the corner of her eye: her jaw is set, her shoulders tense. Once they’re out of ear shot, Daisy slows her pace, glancing toward Jemma. “So are you going to talk to me again?” She questions, a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “Or are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment?”
Jemma doesn’t bother to answer. Instead, she puts her hands on Daisy’s shoulders, pushing her back against the wall and stepping closer to her. “I never said anything about talking.” She informs Daisy frankly, her eyes dropping immediately to Daisy’s lips.
They can make up later. Right now she’s interested in the kissing part.
Daisy’s lips part in an expression of surprise and it looks like an invitation to Jemma. She kisses her roughly, a desperate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and reminiscent of the early days of their relationship when it was all about secrecy and stolen seconds made up of roving hands and scalding touches. Daisy overcomes her surprise pretty quickly, her hands fitting themselves against Jemma’s hips and filling Jemma with a fire that threatens to burn her up. She pulls her mouth away from Daisy’s, breathing heavily.
Daisy’s pupils are blown as she looks down at Jemma, her brow creasing. “Okay, what-”
“No talking.” Jemma admonishes, moving toward Daisy again. This time, Daisy meets her halfway, pulling her closer to her chest, pressing a hand to the small of her back.
Jemma slips one hand around the curve of Daisy’s neck, reaching out blindly behind Daisy’s back with the other. Her hand closes around the doorknob of one of the base’s many storage closets; she can only hope this one is packed with cardboard boxes instead of old equipment or worse.
Daisy seems to have absolutely no problem allowing herself to be backed blindly into the mystery closet, nor does she protest but Jemma pushes her roughly into the shelving unit fixed to the wall. Her attention is on other things, mainly Jemma’s lips and the curve of her jaw and the tip of her blouse that shows just the smallest suggestion of skin. It doesn’t take long before Daisy has made quick work of the blouse itself and Jemma figures that she would be a little more upset about the popping buttons if Daisy wasn’t working on dutifully tracing every inch of her chest with her lips.
Jemma feels like her head is too full with thoughts of Daisy to leave room for anything else. Everything is being knocked aside, her ears ringing with the sound of her own blood heating up and the pounding of her heart. She puts her arms around Daisy, desperate for her, for a closeness that makes it difficult to do anything more than cling to one another, banishing the distance between them until they’re sharing the same space.
But that moment passes quickly and they dissolve back into the shared goal of shedding their clothes and leaving their skin red and raw from teeth and kisses. Jemma can’t remember every feeling so lost in the need to have Daisy close, kissing her, touching her, inside her. It makes her feel like she’s completely abandoned control of her senses and given herself over completely to Daisy.
They don’t bother to take their time. There’s no point, not now. It doesn’t even matter to Jemma that the rest of the team probably has a pretty good idea of what they’re doing right now; it doesn’t matter that they’re in a dark supply closet only feet away from the gym and that she’s got Daisy’s earlobe between her teeth as Daisy pushes a hand down the front of her pants, too impatient to even consider pulling them down her hips. It doesn’t matter that Jemma is alternating between whispering Daisy’s name and sighing out sounds that she wouldn’t recognize as her own any other time. The thought of how she must look to Daisy right now -her hair messy across her face, her head thrown back, everything about her desperate and needy- only makes her heart beat faster and her blood sing in her ears.
Jemma’s hands are shaking as she reaches for Daisy, fumbling to touch her, making the best of their awkward angle and impatience. It doesn’t seem to matter that they’re sloppy and uncoordinated, rough and awkward. When Jemma presses her lips to the hollow of Daisy’s throat, she tastes skin and sweat and she gasps in a breath as Daisy’s fingers find just the right angle, just the right spot. She squeezes her eyes shut but she still sees stars.
For a while, the only sound in the closet is their breathing, steadily growing quieter as it returns to normal. Jemma feels light and boneless, leaving her arms draped loosely around Daisy’s shoulders, her forehead pressing against her collarbone. Daisy kisses her temple softly and Jemma can’t help but smile.
“Well,” Daisy says finally, shifting just enough to encourage Jemma to lift her head, “that was unexpected.”
Jemma smirks, untangling herself from Daisy. “Just for the record, I’m still mad at you.”
Daisy scoffs. “You have a really interesting way of showing it.” She remarks. “Maybe you should be mad at me more often.”
Six hours ago, when Coulson had asked her to sit down and work on the encryption that was keeping them out of Malick’s files, Daisy had thought about coding and encryption software and computers fondly.
Five hours ago, Daisy had missed being able to sit at her computer and put on her original hat as a hacktivist, giving her Inhuman powers a rest for a bit.
Four hours ago, Daisy had almost been grateful for a taste of her old life.
But now, all she wants to do is throw this computer and anything resembling a computer straight of the window and tell Coulson that she quits. Not just work on the encryption but that she also quits SHIELD, being an Inhuman and life in general. Seriously, Malcik has some people who really know what they’re doing. She’s starting to think that even she won’t be able to crack through this wall.
There’s a soft knock on her partially open bedroom door and Daisy looks up quickly, so grateful for the intrusion that she figures that zombie-Ward could walk into her room and she wouldn’t even be that upset.
The fact that it’s Jemma is really just icing on the cake. Daisy smiles, carefully moving her laptop aside to make room on the bed for Jemma to sit beside her. Jemma comes bearing gifts: a mug of coffee and there’s a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies tucked under her arm.
“Need a break?” Jemma questions with a hopeful smile and Daisy is quick to pat the mattress next to her. Jemma hands over the mug, easing herself carefully on the bed. “How’s it going?”
The very question is nearly enough to make Daisy feel like she’s about to have a panic attack. She sighs. “I can’t even talk about it.” She grumbles. “I think I’m going to be old and grey before I figure out what secrets Malick is hiding.”
Jemma shakes her head. “Don’t say that.” She offers Daisy a cheerful smile. “If anyone is equipped for the job, it’s you.”
Daisy certainly wishes that were true. “I really need to figure out how to be faster than the program because it keeps rewriting itself…” She casts a sidelong glance at her computer. Who knows what the software has done in the time since Jemma has been sitting beside her. Daisy can’t bring herself to really feel that regretful.
“Well, you need a break.” Jemma tells her like it’s really that simple.
“I can't…” Daisy looks back toward her computer. “I really need-”
Jemma holds out the cookies. “Yes you do. Rest your brain. Doctor’s orders.”
How is Daisy supposed to pick a computer over Jemma and a bunch of cookies?
“Well, just for a minute…”
Of course a minute turns into five, which becomes ten and then twenty and…well…it’s very hard for Daisy to get back to work with the distraction that is Jemma Simmons. She doesn’t really want to chase Jemma off, more than happy to get to spend this time with her, insisting that the other woman stick around even when she does finally pick up her laptop again. They rest comfortably side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and the feeling of Jemma there beside her and the constant, monotonous scroll of text and digits across the screen…well…it’s enough to make her….
Honestly Daisy doesn’t even realize that she’s fallen asleep until she’s waking up suddenly. She’s groggy and disoriented, trying to figure out why she’s got a computer on her lap and someone’s heavy weight leaning against her.
The weight just so happens to be Jemma, still snoozing away, her head leaning against Daisy’s shoulder. She looks comfortable and at ease, content; things that Jemma hasn’t really been since getting back from Maveth.
Daisy suddenly remembers Coulson’s directive and her task at hand but opening her computer and launching back into the code would mean jostling Jemma and probably waking her up. And Daisy isn’t sure that she wants to do that…not when it’s so nice to have her curled against her side.
Well…even secret agents have to sleep, right? Coulson really can’t fault her for taking a power nap.
Daisy leans her head against the top of Jemma’s, letting her eyes slip closed as she listens to Jemma’s steady, rhythmic breathing. Jemma sighs in her sleep and Daisy smiles slightly, moving closer to the other woman. Jemma doesn’t seem to mind, sleeping peacefully. It doesn’t take Daisy long to join her in, drifting off to a dreamland that is blessedly free of thoughts of codes and computers and thankfully full of the person sleeping beside her.
“Get out of my closet.” Jemma’s tone is only partially teasing and she tosses a pair of balled up socks in Daisy’s direction. “It’s not my fault that you haven’t done your own laundry in months.”
Daisy rolls her eyes. “Not months, don’t be so dramatic.” She doesn’t bother to move away from pawing through Jemma’s clothes. “It’s been like…weeks.”
Jemma shakes her head, knowing a lost cause when she sees one. “You’re terrible. You can’t just wear my clothes whenever you run out of your own.”
Daisy finally pulls one item out of the closet: a sweater that is definitely not something she ever would have imagined herself wearing years ago. But that had been before she met a biochemist with a unique, yet adorable, fashion sense and fell in love with her.
“Sure I can.” Daisy protests, sliding the sweater off its hanger. “That’s the benefit of dating you, right?”
Jemma quirks an eyebrow. “The only benefit?”
Daisy grins lazily at her. “I didn’t say that.”
Jemma smirks. “I would hope not.” She turns away before Daisy can lean close enough to kiss her, stepping toward the bedroom door. “Do your laundry, Daisy.” She singsongs.
“Yeah, yeah.” Daisy is still smiling even as she rolls her eyes at Jemma’s retreating form. She debates for only a second before pulling her tank top off and replacing it with Jemma’s sweater. She looks at herself in the mirror, studying the girl looking back at her. She looks like she should be reading some thick scientific tome instead of running around in gauntlets trying to save the world from aliens. Or maybe she only feels that way because that’s what she’s seen Jemma doing while wearing this exact same sweater.
When Daisy joins the rest of the team in Coulson’s office, she’s not surprised to see the exasperated look on Jemma’s face. But the ‘oh Daisy’ comments that she’s expecting don’t come; Jemma just looks at her, the expression in her face difficult to read.
Daisy takes her place beside Jemma, ignoring the curious looks that she gets from the rest of the team due to her curious choice in outfits. Jemma slips an arm around her waist, a causal and easy sort of gesture that makes Daisy’s heart do weird and embarrassing things in her chest. Honestly, she has a feeling that such a simple thing is always going to do that. Which she’s totally fine with.
“So you don’t mind me borrowing your clothes?” Daisy whispers, turning her head toward Jemma.
Jemma gives her the once-over before letting her gaze return to Daisy’s face. “I suppose it’s all right…just this once.” She relents. “My clothes do look quite nice on you.”
"I understand the whole sleep walking thing but what I don't understand is the princess dragon dream and why I'm in it." I saw this and thought it would be a great Skimmons prompt.
Daisy is finally getting used to sharing her bed with someone. Accepting someone into her space and co-habiting definitely does not come with positive associations; her time at St. Agnes had been primarily spent sharing a room with at least six other girls, stuck in bunk beds, listening to the shifting and whispering and whimpering all night. Not to mention the whole intimacy issue thing, which lead to her sneaking out of plenty of apartments or kicking people out of her own. But things are different with Jemma, better. Comfortable. Exactly like she always imagined it was supposed to be, when you started sleeping curled against someone instead of trying to think up an excuse as to where you had to be at one in the morning. At times, Daisy feels like they’ve been doing this forever, that there’s nothing more natural and comfortable than falling asleep beside Jemma, even though it’s only been a few months since she finally stopped being tongue-tied long enough to tell Jemma how she felt about her.
It’s almost funny how much easier it is to sleep with Jemma there beside her. It’s the opposite of how it’s always been, when being with other people, especially like this, made her guarded and anxious. But with Jemma it’s sweet dreams and restful nights.
Except, of course, when Jemma does her whole sleep walking routine. It’s a habit that she’s developed since her time on Maveth; despite the fact that it’s been nearly a year since her return from the dead planet, her mind is still restless and agitated, pushing her from the covers and the warmth of her girlfriend’s arms and through the warren of hallways around the base.
At first, Daisy was worried, more than worried, about this habit of Jemma’s and that was before she got to experience it first hand while lying bed beside her. When it became obvious that Jemma’s sleepwalking wasn’t going to just go away, they all got pretty good at Jemma-proofing the base so that she was no worse for wear once she was finally done with her wanderings.
Even though Daisy knows there’s nothing to worry about, it still startles her awake when she feels Jemma get up, slipping out of bed and moving robotically toward the door. Sometimes, she follows after her, making sure that Jemma’s sleeping mind doesn’t get her into too much trouble. But sometimes Daisy just lies awake, listening for the sounds of Jemma’s return.
On this particular night, Daisy can already tell that there’s something different about Jemma. Even in her sleep, she seems more agitated, her brow furrowed, her eyes open but not seeing the same things that Daisy is. She wonders what is plaguing Jemma’s mind tonight, if she’s still back on Maveth or reliving one of the countless other life and death experiences that they’ve gone through together.
Jemma goes to her closet, reaching for the shoes resting at the bottom. Daisy bites her lips to suppress a smile at her actions. She, too, climbs out of bed.
“Jemma?” Daisy says softly, trying not to startle her. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go.” Jemma tells her, her voice sleepy and dreamlike. “She needs me.”
Daisy quirks an eyebrow. “Who?”
Obviously she’s not the type of person to hold sleep-talk against her girlfriend but she can’t help but let her curiosity get the better of her.
“The princess.” Jemma tells her frankly, standing up straight once she’s pulled her shoes on. “The dragon princess.”
It’s a little harder this time to swallow the impulse of smile so Daisy doesn’t even bother. She figures that she should get credit just for not laughing in Jemma’s face.
“The dragon princess.” Daisy repeats, clearing her throat. “I…see?”
Jemma only nods. “Of course.” She says sleepily. “You know. You were there.”
This is definitely an interesting turn of events. “Oh? I was? You’ve been dreaming about me?” She teases.
Jemma doesn’t answer. Her eyes grow heavy again, dropping closed and her head tilts to the side a little. When she tries to step forward toward the door, Daisy reaches out, resting a hand gently against Jemma’s torso. She’s pretty sure that there are rules against this sort of thing, that you aren’t supposed to mess with people who are sleep walking but Jemma looks a bit too serious in her pajamas and shoes so she thinks it’s probably better safe than sorry.
“Let’s go back to bed.” Daisy suggests quietly. “You can help the dragon princess tomorrow.”
Jemma lets Daisy guide her back to bed and doesn’t protest when Daisy pulls her shoes off and tosses them aside. Awake Jemma definitely wouldn’t abide by having her shoes scattered across the floor but this Jemma has already slipped off back to sleep, her wanderings deterred for at least a little while.
Daisy crawls into bed beside her, resting her head on Jemma’s shoulder and breathing in the sleepy, warm smell of her. Already she feels her own eyes getting heavy, her body slipping effortlessly back toward sleep. “Huh.” She mumbles sleepily. “Dragon princess.”
In the morning, it quickly becomes clear that Jemma doesn’t remember anything about her attempts to sleep walk or her tired mumblings. This doesn’t really surprise Daisy, seeing as Jemma wouldn’t have ever believed that she was actually sleep walking if they hadn’t provided her with the concrete proof after the new habit started. But Daisy is definitely not going to let this opportunity pass her by.
“So,” Daisy begins as she watches Jemma run a brush through her sleep tangled hair, a warm and contented feeling in her stomach, “I understand the whole sleep walking thing but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.”
Jemma barks out a laugh, looking over her shoulder. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Daisy grins, sitting up straighter in bed and leaning against the headboard. “You know, the princess dragon? You were trying to go help her last night. It seemed urgent.”
“Daisy, I don’t know what-” Jemma stops suddenly, her cheeks starting to flush. “I…I have no idea what you mean.”
“Yes, you totally do!” Daisy points a finger at her. “Don’t lie to me, Jemma Simmons. You were dreaming about dragons and princesses.”
Jemma opens her mouth and closes it several times before she finally sighs in resignation. “It’s not about princesses and dragons. The dragon is the princess and you and I have to protect her from the evil knights.”
All of this sort of runs together into a jumble of Jemma-speak that Daisy has thankfully had plenty of opportunity to figure out how to decipher. Daisy can’t help but laugh, which doesn’t exactly help Jemma’s embarrassment.
“That is awesome.” Daisy shakes her head. “I can’t even begin to understand how your mind works.”
Jemma rolls her mind. “Well it’s not always biochem and clinical research.”
Daisy quirks an eyebrow. “But it totally is sometimes, isn’t it? You totally dream about doing science, don’t you?”
Jemma picks up one of the pillows off the bed, throwing it at Daisy’s face. That doesn’t do much to help muffle Daisy’s laughter. “It’s not funny.” She informs her primly. “I can hardly control my subconscious.”
Daisy tosses the pillow back at her. “You’re right.” She says seriously, trying to swallow down her laughter. “Next time, I promise not to keep you from trying to save the dragon princess.”
Can you write a skimmons fic where Daisy discovers Jemma's secret obsession with Destiny's Child?
This is such a drabble, I don’t even know guys. But who doesn’t love Destiny’s Child?
Since her return from Maveth, Jemma has been dedicating more of her time to her physical training, often slipping away early in the morning or late at night. Daisy recognizes those particular patterns; she’s familiar with the need to hold off the nightmares or postpone going to sleep at all. Daisy doesn’t ask her about this new habit, she only mentions it in passing in an effort to offer her help or suggestions. Jemma declines the former, smiles and thanks her for the latter. Daisy tries not to take it personally; if anyone understands the need to be alone from time to time, she does.
But one morning, Daisy hears something coming from the training room that she definitely can’t pass up. It’s early, nearly everyone in the base is still asleep, except May who’s already in the midst of her hate fu and seemingly unbothered by the sounds that draw Daisy out of her bedroom and toward the gym.
Jemma is working with the weights, her expression pinched into a look of extreme focus. Daisy is a little embarrassed at the way her mouth goes dry at the sight of her. You’d think she’d never seen a woman in workout clothes before, all sweaty and…muscly…
Daisy quickly pulls her gaze away, trying to feel less like a creeper, especially because Jemma can’t hear her over the music. The same music that roused Daisy from a less than restful sleep and brought her into the gym in the first place.
Destiny’s Child. Definitely not the type of music that Daisy would have figured that Jemma listened to. Though she’s not entirely sure why because obviously people can’t just listen to classical music and old classic rock bands all the time. But Destiny’s Child? Something about it makes Daisy laugh.
Unfortunately, Jemma manages to hear that over the sound of “Jumpin’ Jumpin’” coming from the iPod speakers.
Jemma jumps a little in surprise, clearly not expecting to have her morning workout interrupted. She stands up quickly, her posture uncomfortable and uncertain. “Oh, Daisy. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be up this early.”
Daisy shrugs. “Well, I never have been able to resist the sweet sounds of Destiny’s Child.”
Jemma’s whole appearance is improved by the color that suddenly appears in her cheeks. “Oh, yes.” She quickly walks over to the speakers, unplugging her iPod. “I…Beyoncé helps me get into the zone.”
A laugh bursts from Daisy’s lips and she crosses the gym, picking up Jemma’s iPod. “I can’t argue with that.” She says with a shrug. “I’ve never tried that particular approach.”
She starts going through the songs, expecting to find three or four, the basic hits that everyone knows. But that is definitely not what she gets.
Daisy looks over at Jemma in appreciative surprise. “You have the whole discography on here. I didn’t even know this CD even existed.”
“It’s their first.” Jemma replies quickly. “Before Michelle.”
Daisy quirks an eyebrow, doing nothing to hide her smirk.
The blush deepens in Jemma’s cheeks. She clears her throat, turning away from Daisy and reaching for the towel draped across the back of the chair. “I mean…”
“No, it’s cool.” Daisy assures her. “I mean, somehow I’m not surprised that you’re a secret Destiny’s Child nerd.”
Jemma rolls her eyes, wiping her forehead with the towel. “I’m just a fan.” She replies stingily.
“Oh, sure, sure.” Daisy shrugs. “It’s not like you’ve ever seen them in concert or anything.” She teases.
The lack of response from Jemma is pretty much the perfect response.
“I still maintain that they’re excellent to work out to.” Jemma takes the iPod back from Daisy. “You should try it sometime.”
Daisy quirks an eyebrow. “With you?”
Quickly, she regrets her words. As far as flirting goes, she could have been a little less subtle she thinks but she still feels flustered nonetheless. Daisy clears her throat. “That’s not what I meant.”
“So you don’t want to work out together?”
Daisy is pretty sure that Jemma is teasing her. She can get behind that.
“If you ever need a sparring partner, I promise to go easy on you.” Daisy teases. Jemma rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. “Plus, I do need someone to help me get better acquainted with the discography of Destiny’s Child.”
This comment only receives another eye roll from Jemma. “You can’t do any better than Beyoncé.”
