Chapter 5: Drink BonanzaSummary:The three times Skye's path intertwines with people because of alcohol and the one time it was because of pizza.
Notes:This is mostly a filler so I can start drafting the next installment of Daisy's shenanigans for the main plot.
Also, I have not watched the entirety of AoS seasons 1-7 so if there are any mistakes. Highly apologized.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextHow Skye Meets Jemma
Jemma nervously taps her feet while forcing a pleasant smile on her face. In her hand was a glass of champagne the waiter had kindly offered..
Jemma was attending a function inside a grand house owned by none other than Ian Quinn, an international businessman whose money hangs around illegal activities. The reason why she was there though is a bit more complicated.
Jemma's role in her team has always been first and foremost, being a biochemist and running their research division. That is supposed to be it but the situation likely calls for something else. That's the problem. While fieldwork is exciting, the instability of it all and the copious amount of nerve one must have not to blow one's cover is a pretty daunting trait to have. So she was the least suitable person to be doing this but what can she do?
Ward and Coulson were under Quinn's supervision. Though Melinda May had retired she, too, has a notorious record and would probably be spotted if she even goes near the building and Fitz...
Well, Fitz offered—God bless his heart— but they all had the consensus that if it was to gather intel and create a distraction to create enough time to disable the fences, Ian Quinn might not take too much of a liking towards him. Not to mention the mere mention of talking to a lot of people that don't involve his gadgets, it would make him a stuttering mess. Not that she was any better at the moment.
They all took a risk with her because she wasn't a field agent meaning they hadn't seen her face just as much as the other agents in Shield. Complete anonymity for Quinn's side.
That's how she got there, standing on the sidelines, smiling and laughing awkwardly whenever someone passed by her.
"Jemma, stop scaring people and try finding Quinn," She could hear Ward speaking in her ear and she had to stop grimacing whenever she sipped the cheap red wine.
"Stop making her nervous, Ward," Fitz interjected in the earpiece before talking directly to her. "You doing great, Jemma!"
She winced when he spoke too close to the mic.
"Don't put your mouth too close to it!"
"Oww!"
Jemma was tensing up even more when the ones trying to get her through this mission were bickering like children. It was a relief she heard two slaps before Coulson's voice made it through the other line. "Okay, Jemma, Ian is in the patio. You know the blueprint. Try to make it to his room and disable the fences."
"Yes, Sir," She whispered before making her way around the large party.
Jemma did find Ian but when she did he had a woman in his arms. A fair woman, with lovely ivory skin, a really pretty face, and stood in a way that none of the people in the party was. Like a bored critic.
Jemma noticed it in her eyes. Ian had been talking nonstop in her ears. The two were on a small outdoor sofa, his arms over her shoulders, eyes animated while he blabbered, yet the Dame had all but taken sip after sip of her drink, clearly tuning him out.
The woman had not strayed her eyes from the band playing along.
Ian was still talking to her when she got a call and he had to take it. Leaving the woman on her own.
Jemma was debating whether to go there and try making contact with Quinn's plus one rather than him when she heard a burp beside her.
"Ahhh, young love."
"Ah!" Jemma all but yelped. The drink in her hand shook but fortunately, she didn't let go.
"What is it, Simmons?" She wanted to answer but that would be really weird if she did.
Jemma turned her head around another woman, with short hair, red bloodshot eyes, and wearing a waiter's uniform.
"Hello. I'm sorry I startled you." The woman said, she acknowledged Jemma with a smile but then second later covered her mouth to burp.
It was then she could smell the alcohol from her. A slight smell but wasn't overpowering, yet sufficient to indicate that this one had drank one too many.
"It's fine, really." She waved her hand and smiled back at the unexpected person. "I'm not the best regarding this kind of... settings anyway. So I'm a bit jittery."
"Not to worry. Most of these functions are too posh for me as well. I try not to talk to them. It helps." The woman offered her hand. "Skye."
"Simmons." She took her hand and shook it gently.
The woman had on a curious look. "Simmons. I assume that's not your first name then? Don't tell me, I'll forget later anyway." Jemma finally realized she was holding a vodka bottle in her hand and a glass expertly in the same hand she had the bottle.
She poured herself a glass and drank it. Jemma thought it embarrassing when Skye found her looking concerned, she sighed comically. "Sorry. Sorry. People gave me the fuck you when I tried straight from the bottle so I decided to have it on glass instead. Make it more fancy and less eye-catching."
"Well, compared to your first suggestion. Yes, I do think this is also preferred but it's the outfit, I think, is why everyone is looking at you weirdly."
"Really?" The woman stared at her white blouse and black pants before looking at Jemma. "It's the most fancy ones I have! They said formal wear."
Jemma chuckled at the woman's expression totally baffled at how her choice of wear might have made the other attendees wonder why a waiter was drinking in the corner as if it were a beer feast instead.
"Laugh all you want, Simmons but now I know why there's been about 10 people giving me their glass out of nowhere, and here I thought they don't want it anymore and wanted me to finish it for them. So I did before putting their glass back in their hand." Jemma couldn't contain the laughter in her chest as she imagined it.
"That can't be sanitary though." She murmurs in between her chuckles.
"Eh," she shrugs. "it's alcohol. It's pretty sanitary enough for me."
Jemma continued to laugh before Skye enjoyed the giggling with her as well. "Well, there you go. You finally smiled"
"Hm?"
"I don't want to offend you Simmons but since you got here, you've been looking uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that people avoided you. I mean they've been avoiding me too but— and I also don't mean to brag— but I've got..." She began to recount something. "... three asshole rich guys try to hit on me."
Jemma snorts. "Would it offend you too, if I say I don't believe it?" She said teasingly although the woman was attractive of course.
"What? I'm a catch. But anyway, now you look much better. Have confidence, girl. You totally rock that dress."
"Thank you, Skye." She really did feel better. The tension left her body.
"Anyways, I need to go. I'm done with my free drinks and the host is too much of a scumbag to get myself involved with. He doesn't deserve me," The last part sounded so dramatic that Jemma sniggered.
"Bye, Skye."
"Oh, before I go. If you want to get any reception here. Try the big tree east of the house, they have terrible cell service." She said exasperatedly.
Jemma wonders how she even got to find that information but knew the woman was odd in her own unique way so she didn't question it.
"Also, don't worry about the camera, they have shit security, if you want to rest your feet they have really nice beds on the third floor just be careful with the guards. Anyways, bye for real now." And walked away.
Jemma watched Skye leave the party at the main entrance but the guard redirected her to the staff room in his misguided concept of thinking of her as a server for the party. Jemma snorted again and made her way to the second floor.
Yet it wouldn't be until five minutes later that she realized the east wing of the house where the large tree was, has the boundary of the shields. How did Skye get there then?
She was deep in thought but knew she had something going here.
"Hello, sir. I think the shields are down."
"What? But we haven't even bypassed their system?"
"Sir, Please check the shield. I have information to believe it has been tampered with already."
Jemma waited nervously before she got her response.
"Simmons is right. The shield is disabled. You can return to the BUS, Jemma. Make sure to be careful."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I can't be much help."
"No. It's a good first fieldwork, Simmons. Let's work on your reconnaissance later."
"I'm doing this again?"
"Maybe. It won't hurt to prepare you and given it wasn't totally bad, we can work on it."
Jemma didn't take it to heart though.
She realized it's a good skill set to have. Not to mention if a woman who gets mistaken as a waiter can walk around the house as if she owns it, can do it. Then Jemma can try to be bold as well.
How Skye bumps into Black Widow
Natasha has a basis for all of her missions. Make a plan. Have a backup plan, and then an extra backup plan.
And it works. While in the rare event that it doesn't? She'd winged it.
Unfortunately that evening, Natasha was having none of her luck. She had just involved herself with a reconnaissance mission. Her target, is a middle-aged man who runs multiple illegal casinos around Delphine. Her task involved gaining access to information about the politicians, judges, and corrupt police who were letting him roam free after court cases were adjourned in their favor even with all the evidence stacked against him.
She had gotten information after painstakingly being patient for three months undercover and was now on the run to get away. What she had not known beforehand was that her target had hired a powered individual. An ability to phrase through solid objects. Codename Ghost.
A shield operative that went rogue a few years ago.
This was not how she planned to meet the infamous ex-shield agent.
Natasha groaned, feeling her nose break after an invisible kick came flying out of nowhere.
She stumbled back as another blow hit the apex of her stomach, as she crashed through a dumpster and hordes of black plastic bags.
In a back alley behind a restaurant, littered with stacks of trash. Natasha had wished they were fighting somewhere else. She was not having a good night, Natasha hated the smell of the dumpster, the feeling of where she was lying on top of, and her nose was broken.
Terrible night.
Natasha felt a hand on her feet as she was dragged out of the pile and hit the ground. Not wanting to discourage her attacker, the redhead twirled the hand holding her, gripped the base of her wrist, and pulled her close to throw a punch.
A punch that didn't connect and served as only phasing through Natasha and felt Ghost hit her back.
"Give me the flash drive." Ghost said, her voice was calm and diminutive. As if talking weren't her thing.
She spat blood on the ground and stood up. Glaring at the white mask she wore and looking offended she thought she'd hand it over so easily.
Face to face with Ghost. The two women, sized the other as neither was willing to back down. Especially Natasha.
"Why don't you try taking it from me?" She taunted.
Ghost and the Black Widow prepared for a wrestle when they both halted. The noises of objects clattering emerged close to them.
As if like magic, a woman who stood only five foot two, wearing Barney Stinson's face t-shirt and tight jeans that had three rips that were definitely not intentional, slowly crawled out of the dumpsters and rolled over the plastic bags. The woman groans and bleared her eyes at them. "hewo... *hick* I... I need my key card *hick* I can give... Tw—two bucks... for *hick* it."
She continued to sway as she tried to stand up. Her face and even ears were red as a tomato. Both ghost and black widow could smell the alcohol from the proximity and they were already a good distance away.
Ghost didn't care about the drunk woman and quickly went back to attacking Natasha. Black Widow ducked and countered but she easily phased through each one of her attacks.
"Hey... guws... *hick* no fighting." The drunk approached the fray without reserve and lacked any self-awareness.
Ghost spotted the woman getting closer and suddenly changed direction to her. Preparing to take a hostage.
Worried that Ghost would not only assault her but also a civilian, the red-headed woman ran to her side to protect her. Suddenly, a red-faced hiccuping woman let out one sneeze that sent the whole alley shaking.
It was so big that Natasha flew back to the ground while Ghost, unfortunately, could not phase through the wave and ended up getting most of the brunt of the shockwave because she was closer. Her back hit the wall and her head buckled through the collision, putting her unconscious.
Natasha winced in pain as she gripped her sides. Feeling she pulled a nerve somewhere but other than that. She was fine.
The woman still unable to process anything, only rubbed her nose and pouted. "Sorwy. I have a *hick* cold."
The brunette staggered on her feet but did leave the alleyway to get back to her hotel room and sleep it off on a nice bed.
When Natasha regained her bearings, she didn't see the woman anymore but she did save Natasha from Ghost who was slumped on the side knocked out.
"Next time, check the dumpster for any sneezing-powered individual." She said to herself with a tired sigh.
She gripped her rib as she left, wanting to take a few days to relax and have a drink after that bizarre encounter.
How Skye kind of meets Hawkeye
Laura debated which cereal to buy for the kids as she faced the array of choices. Lately, the kids, especially Cooper, had been changing their preferences. After some pondering, she settled on Super Samies.
Pushing her cart, she found it stuck, regretting her choice of one with a busted leg. Laura sighed and attempted to fix it when a soft tap broke her concentration.
"Hello. Do you need some help?"
Laura turned to her left to see a woman smiling at her. She was smaller than her, definitely more toned, wearing a sleeveless jacket reminiscent of the ones Clint wore to work.
"I wouldn't normally try and disturb other people, but it is hard to pull considering my condition," she motioned for her pregnant belly, looking apologetic. "If you wouldn't mind just getting it untangled, and I'd be fine after that."
"How about I help you push the cart? I promise it wouldn't bother me, and I only have one thing on my list anyway," the woman said, grinning at Laura in a very precarious but gentle way.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. It's nice to talk to people that I'm able to understand before I go to the beyond and wake up in the morning wondering how I taped myself to the ceiling kind of days. But I promise I'm not doing this for anything other than wanting to help a fellow woman," she rambled on.
Laura didn't find anything wrong with the brunette; she didn't even look like she wanted to mug her.
She nodded her head. "Okay. My name's Laura."
"Skye."
"Skye. That's a beautiful name."
"Thank you. May I?" Laura stepped back as she easily untangled the broken roll and adjusted it.
"Wow. You did that... like only a second," Skye laughed at her bewildered face.
"Got lucky. Anyway, where to?"
"Just getting some chicken, then some flour, a few cans, and then picking out jerkies."
"Jerkies? For the kids?" Skye started pushing the cart at a slow pace, minding how Laura was walking like a penguin.
"Nice guess, but it's for my husband. He loves them as a snack, so I prepare some whenever he gets home," Laura explained when they reached the frozen food section.
"That's nice. I used to have my wife buy me blueberry jams when they were in season in the local market. It always warmed my heart when she did that." She said in an easy but heavy way, but for a fraction of a second, she winced. Laura didn't show on her face that she saw it.
"So, you're married?"
She chuckled but wasn't genuine. "Was married."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine. It's been years anyway. Want to get this chicken or the branded one?" Skye offered Laura two options in front of her.
"Let's get the first. Basically the same as long as they're not weeks old."
"Okay." Skye put it in the cart as they wheeled over the many aisles. Skye questioned about her kids, and Laura lost herself talking about them; love flowed in her eyes. Skye commented here and there, but Laura took most of the time recounting their family moments.
"Okay, that's it! All the things I wanted to buy are accounted for. I'm done with my list. How about we get yours, Skye? There's still room in the cart."
"If that's fine with you."
"Shush. We've been talking for two hours now. We're basically grocery buddies."
Skye laughed. "I didn't know that was a thing."
"It is now. So what are you buying?"
"I'll show you," Skye said as they steadily made their way to the liquor area. Laura was looking at all the options as she herself might want to take one wine or so. Skye stopped pushing the cart and looked at her embarrassingly. "You can wait here, Laura. I'll get them."
She nodded.
After a quick five minutes, Skye comes back with ten bottles of vodka, carrying them as if they were detergent boxes. Five in each arm.
"I'm back." And puts them in the cart.
Laura worriedly looked at it and then at Skye, who looked innocently at her. "Is there a party you're going to?"
The brunette pursed her lips. "Not that I know of." She shakes her head.
"Um... Okay," Laura trailed off, unable to voice her worries about the pile of liquor.
"Let's go to the checkout."
"Skye. I hope you don't assume I'm overstepping, but is this a whole month's liquor stash?" She couldn't help but ask once they were in line.
"No. This would barely last me three days if I'm not busy."
"Three days?!" Laura shouted to which Skye cupped her mouth when the other people started looking at them.
"Sorry." The two apologized to the ones who were giving them side-eye glances.
Laura quickly grabbed Skye's arm when they were back in the conversation. "Skye, are you dying?!" She hissed lowly.
"No? Why would you assume so?"
"With your lifestyle, you'd die of liver failure."
"Believe me or not, it takes a lot for me to get drunk. Like a lot."
"High alcohol tolerance doesn't mean immunity to it, Skye! I mean you're not drinking every day, right?"
"Well, no. If I'm busy with my work, then no, I don't. Recently, though, I don't have any agenda that needs to be resolved, so I'm relaxing."
"Skye, I can assure you this is not relaxing."
Skye smiled bitterly at Laura. "I know you're only worried, but It's really okay, Laura. I promise."
"Ma'am?"
They noticed they were now in front of the line. Laura thought it wouldn't be the time to talk about it, so she stopped fussing over it and paid for everything first.
Skye helped her bag everything, pushed her things til they reached her car, and helped put the bags in the backseat when Laura asked, "Do you want to come over to my house, Skye?" She asked at last when she realized that it would be the last time she'd talked to her if she didn't do anything.
Skye was surprised by this. She, too, thought that after helping her out with her things, they'd go their way. Skye scratched her head.
"Is that a good idea, Laura? I mean, we just met, and you're already offering I come over to your house."
Laura thought it was sweet of Skye to be wary for her sake.
"Clint often grumbles about how I tell him I'm better than him in reading people. I'm a really good judge of character. Believe me. But if you're busy, that's fine."
"No. No. I'm not busy, but if you're okay with it, I can take you up on your offer. If you don't mind."
"That's great! You'll help me make dinner." Laura clapped her hands and quickly got into her car.
Skye laughs along with the brunette's apparent joy. "Ok. I have my van. I'll just follow you."
"Okay, but you promised you'd follow me, okay? It'd be rude to find you've already driven away in the last second."
"Fine. I promise I'll follow you. I mean it's been a long time since I've helped make dinner anyways."
Skye followed up on her word and followed Laura back to the mountains. It was a trek in the woods before they arrived in a small homestead and a farmhouse in a very wide patch of land.
When Laura parked she looked in the rearview mirror and didn't see Skye's van behind. She frowned. Did Skye leave without saying goodbye?
But seconds after she did see her arriving. Skye got out and was amazed by the scenery. "I thought you left."
"Sorry. I had a nasty bump and had to slow down my driving. I guess my tire isn't too built for the terrains you guys have here." Her eyes scanned the mountains and she had a faraway look as she spotted a meadow.
"Skye, you okay?" Laura asked as Skye snapped out of whatever it was she was thinking.
"Yeah. It's a beautiful place you got here."
"It is. Come on in."
"Let me help carry the groceries." Skye offered.
Skye met her kids and they had a blast meeting someone new. They talked her ear off more than Laura did. But it warms Laura's heart how it didn't bother Skye. If anything, she humored them. Playing with Lila and Cooper before Laura wanted to start with dinner. Skye had to postpone their fun to help her cook.
"First of all, I need to be aware if you know how to cook." Skye rolled her eyes but smirked.
"Yes, Laura. I do. Maybe not much now because I'm on the road most of the time but I do."
"Just checking. Cuz the last time I had Tasha over, she burnt my oven with her pie."
The smaller brunette laughed. "Believe it or not as well but I'm a better cook than my wife. She knows basic stuff but I mostly cook for us. When she was learning how to cook she burned water. I don't know how... but she did" her voice taking a soft tone.
Whenever Skye talked about her wife, her eyes would shine. A love that still harbors respect even if they aren't together anymore.
"With that out of that way we're going to make chicken pot pie and brisket."
"Oh, fancy."
The two worked fairly well. Laura made the pie, while Skye finished the brisket that was partially done. It wasn't when she was checking on the pie cooking in the oven that Laura heard commotion start outside the house.
Laura was terrified for Skye so when she found Clint wrestling the brunette on the ground as she owed him money, she couldn't help the headache appearing. "Clint Barton! What the hell are you doing to Skye?!"
The two people on the ground looked up at her and two answered at the same time.
"Beating up your mistress!."
"You know this, creepy stalker!?"
The two shared a look before they asked each other in a high-pitched confused manner.
"You think I'm her mistress?"
"You think I'm her stalker?"
"Both of you are idiots. Get off of each other. Come inside you two or so help me, I'll pinch both your ears." She ordered.
The two shuffled inside. Skye looked like she had some scrape on her ear but Clint looked worse as she got lucky with a hit to the cheek.
"Okay. I'll speak first because you two seem to like glaring at each other." Skye huffed and crossed her arms. "So I was finishing the brisket outside when I saw this guy hiding in the bushes with a scope. He even had a radio and a walkie-talkie. Everything you find someone having when they're stalking someone. You can't blame me for assuming he was."
Laura sighed. "Clint, why are you hiding in the bushes and monitoring us? Another thing, why do you think Skye is my mistress? Which by the way she's not."
Clint scoffs. "She not? How do you explain this?" Clint grabbed a phone from his pocket and showed her an anonymous text.
"This person texted me this morning saying they were fucking with my wife so I sneaked home and saw you with her! And you were cooking together being too buddy-buddy. How else was I supposed to react?"
Laura was having a headache. "Clint, they have a follow-up text."
Clint froze and read the text he didn't get to see. "Sorry. Wrong send. I typed 3 instead of 2. My bad."
The whole kitchen suddenly got quiet. Clint looks at both women, Laura seething and Skye keeping her laughter in. "So, what was that? An affair?"
Clint actually seemed embarrassed but still gestured at Skye. "That still doesn't explain her being here. This is supposed to be a secret place, Laura."
"I can have friends in you know. But yeah, I guess I should introduce you." Laura faced Skye. "Skye, this is my husband Clint."
Then faced her husband. "And Clint, this is Skye a nice woman, who I met in the grocery store and was kind enough to not only help me with groceries, and lift said groceries back home but also offered to help cook dinner."
"Oh." He said more guilty than before.
Skye didn't let up though and started laughing. "Oh, I can't believe you thought I was having an affair with Laura. I mean you are hot, by the way, Hun, but I'm not that kind of woman. Believe me, I'd run away the moment I found out I'm having a relationship with someone married."
"Well, I didn't know that!"
"Clint. Apologize."
"Fine. Skye... the woman I thought my wife cheated on me with, I am sorry."
"No worries, man. To be honest, had I known my wife was fucking some guy as well. I'd beat the shit of that guy." Skye said walking up to him to pat his back and giving a thumbs up. "So good job."
"Enough, Skye. Please don't encourage my husband's wild imagination. Also, if I did cheat, don't you two know that I'd have the same accountability as the person I chose to cheat Clint with? I mean it takes two to tango so clearly there's something loose in both your noggins."
Skye and Clint shared a look and looked at Laura at the same time. "But I can't beat up my wife for the life of me."
"I can't as well."
"It's not—" Laura let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not what I was talking about but let's forget it. Clint, we'll talk more about this later. But since you're here. Help us finish dinner so you can say hi to the kids."
"Okay, honey. Sorry about attacking you, Skye. I mean it." He finally regarded Skye with a warm reception now it looked like the misunderstanding had been cleared.
"Don't worry about it. I should be the one saying sorry. I kicked your ass."
"No. I kicked yours."
"Skye! Clint!"
"Yes, Honey." "Sorry, Laura."
After dinner, Laura was sadly gazing at Skye going back to her van.
"Are you sure you can't stay?"
"I can't. Once upon a time. I had all of this. Now though, I don't think I should."
"You know that's not true at all, Skye. Everyone deserves to be happy."
"Maybe. Some day." The two exchanged hugs before Clint offered his fist for her to bump. "Thank you for helping my wife, Skye, and for being a good friend to her. Even if it's for such a short while."
"Don't mention it. Also, Clint, Laura loves you too much to cheat. Keep that in mind."
"I will."
Laura and Clint waved as Skye drove off into the night.
How Skye Meets Jane Foster,
Jane wasn't feeling well.
The night had been normal. Darcy offered a girls' night, even though they were supposed to finish their experiment by the end of the month in London, and they still had a lot to do. But Jane insisted because Darcy said, and she quotes, 'losing her shit because she's not getting any.'
To that, she says it is terribly not true. Well, yes, Thor's been busy. He has been for months after the whole battle of New York, and he hasn't visited since. It does make her nervous most nights if he would come back...
Anyway, not the point!
She's not losing her shit, and she wanted to prove that to Darcy. So she agreed, and now she's paying the price.
Jane vomited in the toilet. She was on her fourth margarita, and her shrimp cocktails did not mix well.
She groans and sits on the tile in her weak condition, her dress bunched up. Her eyes could not see Darcy anywhere, meaning she was off making out with some stranger by now or something.
Now that she had vomited and was still drunk, she felt herself wanting to eat something.
"Hey, you done?"
"Sorry. Let me just get up," Jane excused as she left the bathroom, still craving food more than she wanted to go back to the bar.
So she left the club, left Darcy, and was walking alone in the streets wearing a skimpy outfit, heavily delirious, in search of food.
She tried different spots, but in London, not much food she was used to back in America. That was before she smelled something aching to pizza and followed it.
Now she was taught at an early age not to go in someone's van, but when someone was drunk, hungry, and not thinking straight, it's quite easy to let inhibitions take over. That was how she climbed into someone's van, found a comfy seat, and saw three pizzas on a plate.
Jane didn't care and took one and began munching.
"Huh? Does it taste alright?" Jane gazed at her side to see she wasn't alone with her pizza. She was looking at another bleary-eyed woman, cheeks tinted and also drunk.
She nodded her head naturally, sniffling and tasting all its cheesy goodness. "It's good," she mumbled.
"That's good. That's good." The woman took something from her side and offered it. "Siracha, if you're into spicy things."
"Don't mind if I do."
She took it from her finger and dabbed it into her pizza, took one bite, and began crying.
"Yo, you okay?" The woman tried but failed miserably to make her stop crying.
It was just that she was missing a lot of things lately. Pizza, warmer weather, and Thor. "This is so good. Just like ones back home."
The woman chuckled, crawled to get something else but came back a few minutes to start dabbing her eyes. She was drying her eyes with a small towel, and she let her.
"Thank you, mysterious lady, for such a compliment." The woman smiled and went back to sitting beside Jane and eating her pizza.
Jane sniffs her cheeks bulging, her head starting to numb from time to time.
"Is it a guy?" The woman asked after some time.
Jane doesn't respond.
"Mine is because of a woman," she continues to speak. "I'm missing her dearly, and all I can do is wallow in my own drunkenness." She takes a bite. "She loves eating sweets and pizzas... And So I keep a ton on my mini fridge. Want some?"
"Do you have any KitKat?"
"Sure, wait a minute."
Seconds after, the woman plops a small KitKat bar on her lap and grinned. The two ate in silence.
"I miss Thor," she said out of nowhere. She didn't know what compelled her to start speaking. But just the nice simplicity of the moment... eating pizza, sitting in a quiet space, and someone really nice to spend the night kind of relaxes her so much that even her tongue couldn't stop.
"He said he loves me, but he hasn't even... Let me know if he's alive or not. Just gone. No word at all. I mean, he was my boyfriend, but who does that?"
"I get you. You distracting yourself then?"
"Yes. With my work. He's not my whole world. I have things to do," she said bitterly. "But once in a while, I get hit with the realization that he's not here, and I don't know what to do. I freeze up. Should I move on or wait for him to come back not knowing when that will be."
"My therapist said, a distraction is a distraction. A means to let you temporarily forget what you really wanted to delay. I know that. He knows that. What you need in the end is closure. You need to come to terms with what relationship you really have with him. Then when he comes back, you two talk. Let him know it's not fine how things have been going so far. Knowing his side works too. Compromise if it's possible but at the moment. You need some self-searching."
Jane was listening and thought it all sounded sane and rational, but she snorted. "What if he doesn't come back at all?"
"Then you move on... But from my experience. I'm hardly one who can advise you that." She chuckled and went to get water bottles and handed her one. She thanked her and drank it.
"Although if it helps. You don't need to be in a hurry to move on. The more you do, the more likely it is to have the opposite effect. You sleep with someone and get into a relationship. You, being emotionally unavailable because you're tethered to your last one, will end in a lot of heartbreaks and arguments. Trust me. I've been there."
"So what do I do?"
"Know that I don't have the answers you're looking for. But putting time on yourself might help. You know spend time with friends... productively though, or family members but if that's not your thing. Learn something new."
Jane smiled as she closed her eyes and leaned her head on the wall. "I've always wanted to learn tennis. Not a good look for me, but I want to try."
The woman chuckled. "Take your time. But know that you'll probably fall back into habit once you're alone again... you'll be thinking about him. Hopefully, over time you are not too bitter about it."
"Thank you... for talking to me."
"Anytime."
Then there was silence again.
"Can you help me get back to my friend? I think I broke my heel."
The woman who she still doesn't know the name of, laughed while nodding as she attempted to start her van.
"A food van, therapist, and now a chauffeur. You're one lucky gal."
Notes:If you guys are wondering why Skye was at Ian Quinn's party, she got invited by him. A hacker invite but when she attended in the front the guard thought she was messing with him and didn't let her in so she sabotaged their system and accidentally disabled the fences.
Also, how Skye got inside the dumpters. She tried an evening in a lovely restaurant. Got drunk and almost drank all of their alcohol, causing a commotion. The owner got angry and tossed her in the back. She fell a sleep.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Lastly, Skye went to London to let the buzz down about her involvement in the AIM and Killian incident. Not to mention she was supposed to be dead. After erasing everything about her face in all shared videos she's sure to return to the States.
Chapter 6: Rafflesia's SeedSummary:As the start of SHIELDS fall started with Hydra, so is Skye's past rearing its head— not as dead as she thought.
Notes:The traction for the main storyline begins, it took five chapters because it establishes most of the premise for what is happening on the sideline and in future events.
I'll make it as coherent as possible.
Chapter TextTwo sets of cards were dealt on the table. The two opponents sat side by side, each inspecting their cards and eyeing each other, trying to gauge what the other had in their hand. The flop was drawn, revealing the 3 of Clubs, Queen of Hearts, and 10 of Spades.
One of the players snickered and raised the bet, saying, "I raise 30."
The jolly guy said, his blue hand pushing the chips he had toward the center confidently.
"Okay, Senn-Vet raises 30," their dealer said in a bored tone.
His opponent thought for a long time, playing with his playing chip and looking intently at Senn-Vet.
"I call," he calmly said before pushing his own chips into the pot.
"Dullath calls. There are now 130 in the pot. Now would be the turn," the dealer said, showing the two the card.
The turn was 3 diamonds. Senn-Vet couldn't help his grin but tried to mask it before raising it again. "I raise another 30."
"I call."
"The pot is now 190." The dealer draws the last card for the turn and sees the King of Hearts.
"I check."
"I check as well."
"You know the drill," the dealer said with a sigh, and the two showed their cards. Senn-Vet excitedly shows his card to reveal he had a straight and quickly laughs at his rival. "Beat that, Dullath!"
"Now, now. Don't be too hasty." Dullath grins and pushes his card so Senn-Vet can better read it. "I win. My four-of-a-kind beats yours."
Senn-Vet screamed and pulled his nonexistent hair. "You're cheating! You've been winning for five straight hands!" he couldn't stop his voice from rising in frustration.
Dullath, with his pinkish hue, huffed like he was displeased to be called a cheat when the one who accused him of it was so unattractive and boorish. He smiled wantonly. "I'm just that lucky, Darling."
"Why you!"
Senn-Vet couldn't stop his anger and roared, quickly leaping in the air to grapple the other guy's neck. Their dealer, who didn't think it had anything to do with him, left the commotion and plopped down on the sofa to begin playing with his phone.
"Chaer-Ek. Help me!" Senn-Vet pleaded as Dullath managed to overpower him on the ground, his butt on his back, pinning him without issue.
"Fuck you, Senn-Vet. It's your fault; fix it yourself." A woman's voice trailed off in the next room, humming as she played on a computer, swearing in different languages as she played an online battle royale with three other human teens.
"Hey, fucker, I said cover me, dammit!" she yelled on her mic, evading the mess in the living room.
"Karjom, please save me!" The said individual tiredly looked up from his phone before sighing and going back to scrolling again, ignoring the blatant looks from his comrade.
The door of the room opens and slams shut; all four occupants in the room stilled before fixing themselves. Chaer-Ek shuts off her computer in three quick succession, Dullath and Senn-Veth stand at attention, while Karjom only has to hide his phone to also greet their commander.
Heavy footsteps accompanied by smaller ones boomed in the house. All four were standing in line and at attention.
Someone standing 6 foot 8 entered the living room, his body build was average, but each muscle was defined. He had blue skin, short brown hair, hard eyes, and an unwelcome frown. Along his neck was a scar so large and deep one would have thought it was chewed off.
Following him was a smaller form. Skin light and pinkish with a hint of red on her cheeks, swaying blonde hair, and bright white teeth.
When the two entered, the smaller woman had more of a jump in her walk compared to the big broody one. There was a tremble in his step as if lead was encased in his foot.
All four stood at attention, their chests puffed out, and any jesting manner thrown out of the room. Yet, even if they showed how serious they were, the living room was a mess. Cards were on the floor, the table broken in half, and their carpet lying haphazardly on the other end of the room. All indications that the remaining four were not being serious at all in their duty.
The big man craned his head all over the small room, frowning even more as each of the four members gulped in nervousness, except for Karjom, that is.
"Why is this room a mess?" He all but gritted out, his voice low and booming.
The four started shaking as the force of his gaze fell upon their shoulders in a hard slump. "We—"
"Senn-Vet and Dullath played poker and started fighting mid-game," Chaer-Ek confessed in rapid-fire as a means to avoid getting reprimanded herself. She smirked when the two started glaring at her.
"Well, Chaer-Ek played games again instead of doing her job!" The bulbous individual said over his huffing while Dullath combed through his long black cascading tresses. "And, she forgot to open the tracing system again." The two smirked in cooperation when it was now Chaer-Ek's turn to scowl.
"I did not!"
"Enough!" With one word, all three faced the ground, the pressure heavy. Karjom was fortunately not given the same treatment, but even he could still feel some of it lingering on his body.
"Come on, Fy-Et. Stand down." The woman pipes up as she walks towards the mess, not upset at all. "Senn-Vet and Dullath, clean up this mess, and after that, start today's communication inspection from Hala. Chaer-Ek, start the face trace and be serious about it. We're not here for a vacation." Although her face was still pretty lax, her eyes were a deep green hue steadied on the three and were even more domineering than Fy-Et could do with his whole face. The three nodded in submission.
"Karjom..." she trails before facing the young man. "Accompany Fy-Et to the basement. We've kidnapped another witness. Get as much information as you can. Also, Fy-Et..." She pats his arm in a light gesture."Don't kill him in the first five minutes. That's not how you interrogate."
"Yes, commander," The big man bowed his head but had a small frown.
"Now that everyone has their orders, do you have any complaints?"
"No, Commander!" They all but answered.
"Very well," She waved her hand to dismiss them.
Every one of her crew moved, obeying her command doubtlessly. She walked three steps when she noticed she stepped on something. She saw a card on the floor. She knelt slowly, her smile ever so tight and ever so stiff. Her nimble finger traced it before holding it over her head.
A small chuckle that held nothing of mirth. "The Queen of Diamonds,"
"...Where are you right now?"
Bogota Casino, New Jersey
"Booyah!" Skye slammed her palm on the table as she won another round of poker. The people around her cheered and celebrated as she grabbed the shoulder of a stranger she did not care about and still started laughing with him.
"I win! Hahahaha!" Skye might have celebrated very early in the evening. Not that it's a new thing. It has become a habit by now.
Subsequently, following spending two weeks at sea, she got back on land with some not-so-surprising news. Skye had found out that she was considered dead by anyone who knew her. Which was only Bella, Bella's family, and Mr. Stark. Not a lot but really disconcerting how they just decided she's dead. Granted, two weeks missing after a supposed explosion does put ideas in someone's head.
She wasn't mad, though. She'd been thinking of excuse after excuse on why she needed to leave the city months before the incident. She didn't leave because... maybe she got attached to Bella's family.
They were good-natured and really warm people. She didn't know what to tell them that would lessen their protest of her leaving. Now...
... she got what she wanted. And she didn't need an excuse for this one. Apparently, fate just decided to make the choice for her.
So she left California. With her van in Mr. Stark's residence, she couldn't risk being spotted, so she bought a new one. Not that she had anything important. It still didn't shave off the bitter taste that she had to replace her little bug for another, as the van itself does have some sentimental value.
Her new, bigger bug was a bit of an upgrade. Some extra inches of legroom, pieces of furniture, and new equipment, and she was out of there.
She laid low in London for a couple of weeks, spending all that time erasing all her pictures and videos on the wide web and tracing those who had any remaining pixels of her face off the market. Which is not easy, since it was broadcasted. She spent more than three months before going back to the States and went back to old habits.
One of the lists she wanted to do was to gamble. Bella had insisted once that it was thrilling and wanted to go on vacation in Las Vegas. Skye didn't want the whole shebang, but gambling does sound exciting.
So after a few days on the road, she got to New Jersey, got some money to spare (courtesy of stealing from illegal offshore accounts), and got right on it.
"Clap for me! Clap for me!" she chortled while her five companions at the same table all looked like they wanted to murder her. "What? Can't help if I'm too lucky?"
"I'm out of here!" Stacy howled as she left the table in a defeated mess. She was the spoiled daughter of a tech millionaire who wanted to throw away money left and right. She also has a suspicion that daddy dearest doesn't know her daughter has his platinum card. Skye tried to befriend her out of respect but ended up getting insulted at her face saying her clothes were as mismatched as her chopped hair.
Skye felt her irritation spike dramatically. She wouldn't deny that as she raked Stacy's chips each game, her delight grew as the woman didn't even know how to play the game correctly and ended up getting pissy.
Skye waved her hand mockingly, "Bye-bye Stacy! Send me a DM if you want your 2 million back!" before laughing seeing the raven-haired woman snarl at her. "Also, be sure to give my regards to your father!"
"Fuck you!"
"I'm sorry, but I don't fuck peasants."
"Ughh!" and she stomps away.
Skye giggles and faces the remaining four at the table and shrugs at their disappointed faces. "What? She totally deserves that."
One of the players was Sam, a real estate firm owner, who was cool-looking with his bourbon on his side. "Wasn't that too much?"
"Nah, she'll learn something from this." She waved her hand.
"Is anyone using this seat?" Out of nowhere, they were greeted by a large man, in his late 40s she presumes, with wavy short grey hair and a bulbous nose that fitted his bulbous face. He had a very neat suit and custom shoes and was every bit sumptuous looking like the other four, Skye being the odd one out with her black baggy pants and oversized jacket.
"The one who last sat in it lost 2 million, so I think she'll be back much later," Skye said and offered the seat politely.
Sam twirled his glass and stared at their new addition. "I don't mean to assume, but are you, Senator Stern?"
"Why, yes. I hope there's no problem with that?"
Sam laughed. "No, sir, I can't stop someone from playing. If I could, I'd have that one kicked out already," he said good-naturedly at Skye, who didn't mind the banter and only raised her own glass at him. "But what brings you to New Jersey?"
"You know, spend time enjoying myself to an evening of chances. Just like the rest of you."
"Well, if you want to win big, I'd rather warn you that this table might be hard for you."
"How so?"
"Because of that lady there." Sam pointed at her. "I haven't won more than I've lost."
It was then Stern turned to Skye. "Let's see if it holds up."
"If that's a challenge, then by all means, I'll squeeze you dry," Skye said not paying attention to the twitch of the man's eye.
Skye grinned as she showed a flush against Senator Stern's 3-of-a-kind. There was a long exhale and slam of the table as the man stood up to control his frustration while Skye continued to close her eyes, hearing his heartbeat getting higher.
If he's not careful, he'll get a heart attack.
She snorted at her own joke and drank from her glass, slumping on her side as the chips got larger and larger in number. She can't even see clearly because of it.
Sam smiled from where he was sitting and cleared his throat. "Well, good night, gents and ladies. Hope you control yourselves now. You too, young lady," he nods once at her, and she cheered one last glass at him.
"Night, Sam."
"Night, troublemaker."
Skye straightened up in her seat and found Stern was back in his chair lighting a cigarette. The dealer wanted to complain, but with one glare, he clamped his mouth shut.
"So, how much now?" He said grouchy at her.
"About close to half a billion. I didn't know this was how I'd get rich." Skye said with wonderment hidden in her eyes.
"But I guess I should get home too." Skye was cut off by a hand on her wrist. She whipped her head to see Stern also giving her his glare but it didn't affect the brunette. What it did though was ignite Skye's combative instinct, encouraged by the alcohol in her system.
"Let go, Senator. It'd be bad publicity to have you in the news harassing the woman who beat you in poker." Her words drawled out.
He let go but not before waiting five minutes as he pondered his options.
"You're misunderstanding me, Miss. I wanted to invite you upstairs to the VIP lounges. As a display of good sportsmanship, of course." He wiped his glare and became diplomatic as he held his smile. Greasy and fake.
Skye thought about it before nodding. "Sure. I've never been to a VIP lounge."
"Then let's go."
Skye had her chips converted and she followed Stern to the elevator. She whistled while her hand was occupied by both bags of money.
"You know, missy. Stepping out of this building with all that money... It could get you killed." He said, peeking behind to stare Skye in the eye.
She burps at his face because she doesn't care to have any etiquette with him. He scrunched up his nose but looked in front of the elevator door.
"It's okay. I'd get chased for smaller reasons than that. Believe me."
"That's not a comforting thing to hear, but what if I can lend you some of my bodyguards up until you can deposit it in your bank? That could go smoother for you."
"It's fine. Thank you, but I'd like to decline." And didn't specify.
Skye knew this kind of people. Words don't matter to them. They'd slime their way for a reason, and the best course to handle them was obviously just to flat out refuse. No reason. Just refuse.
Even if she was drunk. She'd know from a mile away he's not offering a helping hand to someone he just met. Especially not to the one who took most of your money through gambling.
Although, she had to hand it to the guy. He didn't try shooting her the minute they stepped on the elevator.
"Follow me," he stepped off and presented a very expensive lounge. It was all rustic, elegant, and delightfully blinding.
Skye thinks each piece of furniture costs thousands of dollars. She was offered a seat on a fuzzy-looking armchair, and she sat on it and felt the soft cushion hugging her tosh.
"Any refreshments you'd like?"
"Straight vodka bottle, please."
Stern wasn't sure if she was joking, but she didn't laugh nor did she take back her words, so he waved for someone to go make their drinks.
Seconds later, Skye had her bottle but was also given a glass with ice. She didn't want to say it wasn't needed since it would be rude, so she took it as well.
"So Skye? Do you have a last name?" He started, leaning over and draping his arm on the sofa.
She smiled and hummed.
"Okay. Fair. Not one for disclosing information, but what brings you here? Family gathering? Wedding fiasco? Vacation?"
Skye continued to stay quiet as she crossed her legs and nodded to the slow symphony around the room.
"This won't be an enjoyable conversation if I'm the only one talking."
"Then, let's change the topic. Ever been to Venice? Since I've got the money now, I was planning on going there." The way Stern stiffened was so laughable in her eyes that she couldn't help making a mental picture.
"Can't quite say I have?" Skye wanted to roll her eyes. It was mostly because he's a terrible liar that she didn't even need to use her ability to know the truth.
Skye felt the vibrations around buzzing unnaturally. She felt the vibrations of footsteps. Three people nearby— maybe 2 meters in distance.
"Oh, that's a bummer. Maybe you can take your wife there next month. They said they have great honeymoon destinations."
"I'd take it into consideration."
"Okay, then what about Santorini?" They started getting closer.
"I don't like it there."
They were now behind her.
"That's funny." She takes out her phone scrolling for something. "Because I think this is you."
Skye showed her phone, and the look of shock marring Stern's face was immediate. Skye showed a video of him and his mistress fucking on a rooftop of the resort, unbeknownst to them that there was a CCTV perched there.
After a little bathroom break between their poker game. Skye did a background check on him and lo and behold. A lot of dirt deeds and a lot of cheating.
She didn't really think she'd used it so soon though, but that's on her for following him. She was just too curious for her own good on what he'd do. But handling this kind of thing needs to be personal.
"If you don't want this going viral in the next... I don't know 3 seconds... I'd advise your men to go fuck themselves." Her finger was so close to the button.
"Wait!" He waved his hands, and all of them began backing down. Skye spots the three leaving.
"I'm so glad we understand each other." Skye leaned back on her chair, poured another glass, and offered it to him. The brunette stood up to swipe the bottle and put it in her bag. "I'm usually not this rash, but you see I'd had too many already... but don't mind me, please finish yours— and mine for good measure. I'll go, but I don't think I need escorts. I don't want to see their ugly faces anyway."
She left but not before asking for some cheese if they had any.
Surprisingly, no one followed her, and she was able to drive away scot-free.
.....
Back in the VIP lounge, Stern was looking at the skyline below. He took his phone and dialed someone. He heard a beep as it connected.
"Jasper."
"Yes, Sir?"
"I need you to handle someone for me."
1 week After. Wheaton, NJ
Skye taps her feet on the floor, agitated, while she waits for someone to tell her the news.
She stared down at her wrist, a moment of confusion washing over her as she realized she had no watch on, then remembered to whom she had given it. The brunette then tried to find a clock anywhere in this joint but discovered that each of the four walls bore only posters and glass displays. Just as she was about to leave, she heard the door open and hurriedly approached the person in coveralls. His expression doesn't seem like he's delivering good news.
"So, how is he?"
His mustache twitched side to side, his eyes a bewildered glint. "He?"
"Just tell me," She asked again more impatiently.
"Miss, your van is okay. It's just the alternator, and the tire needs to be changed. Maybe some maintenance on the whole engine," he said as he wiped his face with a towel.
She exhaled, relieved that her 2.0 bug was okay. "Thank you."
"No problem, but how did you get it wet? Did you drive off a cliff or something?" he asked as Skye avoided his eyes, a bit awkward about the whole situation as well.
How could she explain that she was forced off the road, slid down a slight slope, and ended up in a river? The reason? Someone was trying to kill her with a corndog. Someone who found too much joy in throwing things at her tire. Fortunately, the river wasn't too deep. However, the downside? Her equipment had short-circuited.
She could always buy new ones, and most of the important information she had was already in the cloud, safe and sound. However, her van was a different story. She didn't want to part with it.
"Something like that. Can you tell me how long it'll take to fix it?"
He raised another brow at Skye's insistent calling but didn't comment. "Maybe a week or so. But don't worry. If I fix it early, I'll give you a call. Here's my card; the payment can wait until afterward. I'll give you a discount, so..."
"It's fine. As long as you do fix it, I'll pay you however you like, but please don't scam me with any parts, and I'll be your regular customer. Even if I have to tow my van here every so often." His mustache twitched, letting out an old grappa laugh.
"You're a funny girl, but have it your way. See you in a few days."
Skye went to the mall to buy herself some things, keeping in mind things she'd need as she planned to stay in a motel for a week.
She was in a boutique, looking over watches displayed behind glass. There were many to choose from, but few caught her liking. The Hawkeye watch wasn't something she had a hand in choosing, but she grew to love it over time. Now, the sparkling silver and gold watches looked so exquisite. It would be a shame not to buy something like that, but no matter how many times she thought it through, she couldn't bring herself to buy even one.
So she left to buy herself ice cream instead and try her luck with another store.
She sat in the fountain area and silently started eating her vanilla ice cream while watching people walk past her. The mall was smaller compared to the big city ones, yet it was still packed with people enjoying their weekends with friends and family.
"Shit," she muttered, realizing she wasn't paying attention and felt some of her ice cream dripping from her fingers. She quickly licked it and tried to salvage it, but it was too much. She asked for a napkin from the ice cream stand. "Hey, can I get some of these?"
"Sure"
Skye cleaned herself up, all the while feeling someone watching her face nearby. A woman, in her late 30s with black hair, heavy makeup, and a bright red sundress.
Skye stepped back, a bit confused about why the woman was still watching her face. Do I have something on my cheeks?
"Hello, can I help you?" she inquired.
"Oh my god," the woman gasped. "It's you! Mary!"
She launched herself at Skye and hugged her. Skye was flabbergasted about what to do. She slowly pried her away, and the woman, confused as to why she did, stopped hugging her.
"Do I know you?" she asked gently. Not that she wanted to come off as impudent, but someone hugging her out of nowhere still made her uneasy.
"It's me, Veronica," she said with a jolt. Skye looked even more confused. She'd never met someone with her name before, or if she did, she must have been too drunk to remember.
"I don't remember that we've ever met before."
"Don't mess with me, Mary. We've grown up together for at least 8 years." The raven woman said wistfully.
"Mary?" That's really not her name at all.
"Yes," she nodded vehemently, still insisting about it. "Mary Sue Poots. That's you."
"Mary-what-who?" Skye was indignant about the name. Who names someone Mary Sue Poots?
"I think you've got me mistaken for someone else. My name is not Mary," she explained, but the woman huffed, stomped her feet, and began to take her purse. She took something and presented it to her face.
"See that! That's you!"
Skye saw a very old picture. It was a group photo, twelve children all standing neatly in a line, two nuns on each side of the line, and on the far left, Skye could see a younger version of herself. Long hair, wearing a black dress, and with a sweet but wide smile. She had her arms on the two kids beside her while she tried pulling them close, clearly in a close friendship.
Skye could feel her mind losing grip on reality. She slowly grabbed the picture and looked at it. A splitting image, if anyone would say.
She was still too surprised and skeptical but had to ask. "Where was this taken?"
"At St. Agnes Orphanage," she said slowly. "You really don't remember?"
Skye's mouth opened and closed, unable to say something for the first minute before she cleared her throat to answer. "I was in an accident. Hit my head pretty hard. The doctor said I have long-term amnesia, so I don't know much from my past. I go by Skye now."
Victoria's face was downcast at the news before hugging her again. Skye lets her, as the slim woman wraps her arms around her. "I'm so sorry I left you there. I didn't know. I didn't want my parents to dislike me, so when they decided to move town I couldn't say goodbye. I'm so sorry, Mary," Her voice cracks in a soft sob.
Skye didn't retort anything about the use of the name and hugged her back as well, gently patting her shoulders. "Hey. It's okay. I don't blame you. We must have wanted to be adopted so much that we would have done anything."
They stayed that way before Veronica had enough strength to pull away from Skye. "But are you doing okay now? Were you ever adopted?"
Skye didn't want to lie too much, but what else can she say? "I don't think so. I live on my own, and no one calls me to check up, which should have been an indication that I didn't have any family."
"Oh, Mary... I'm sorry! I mean Skye," she shakes her head guiltily. "I guess it will take me some time to get used to that."
Skye assured her that it was fine. "Take your time. Anyway, I still have some days, but since I'm staying in town till they fix my van, how about I ask for your number so we can chat about the past? If that's okay with you."
"Of course, here," The raven woman quickly wrote down her number on a piece of paper and handed it to Skye. "You can even come over to the house. The kids and my husband won't mind."
"I'll think about it," Skye said, not feeling like she was ready to talk about it now.
The woman named Veronica departed to go home, and Skye went to buy a laptop, a phone, and clothes. Later that evening, she was in her motel room searching all she could of the doppelganger named Mary Sue Poots.
She managed to get some information, but it wasn't much. It seems the information she wanted was still being kept in the dark.
"She was dropped at the orphanage as a baby, and lived there for 15 years but was never adopted. Her files show she was put in several families, but none of the foster homes seemed to last long. She was in and out several times in juvie when she reached 13 and 14, breaking into private properties and some theft. But she ran away before she reached 16. Not even an adult yet." Skye sighed as she saw the mug shot Mary had in juvie.
It was a bit chilling that she was looking at herself but not the same person as her. She was sure of this because there was a key difference. Their eyes. Mary had brown eyes while Skye had purple.
Skye had thought about it before. She wasn't in her timeline, meaning there was always a chance that there'd be the same version of herself here. "Then why didn't she show up when I was checking the first few years?"
When Skye arrived on Earth, she could not believe it was true. The last memory she had of Earth was blown up. Everyone died except for her. Now it was back, but not as she remembered. None of the people she knew were here, and she had to start from scratch. After a long time of tinkering, she figured out that this Earth wasn't her Earth, but a close version of it. So she tried to see if she could find another one of her as well. No matches were found under her name. Both names, actually.
There was no denying, though. This one was the Skye of this universe. At least she thinks so. She could be wrong, and she just looks like her; that's why she needed to find out.
"Where is she now?" Skye spent the next three hours trying to find Mary, but no matter how many times she searched, there was no trace of her. As if she vanished into thin air.
Was she murdered? Possibly.
.....
She groaned after looking at her laptop for 10 hours straight. Finally, she came across her files before she was put in the orphanage, but it wasn't what she'd hoped.
Skye found a file on Mary. Yet all of it was redacted. There wasn't a single word readable. "This is a joke," she muttered disdainfully about her situation. "But I know who found her, at least." She clicks her tongue as she reads the words aloud.
"S.H.I.E.L.D." Skye took a deep breath rubbing her chin.
"What do they have on Mary? Better yet, do they have her?"
She needs a way in.
"I need someone. A clearance, of any sort will do. I can just find a way as long as I can get into their servers." Skye was planning and making available options. But she couldn't concentrate because of the video playing on her feed. She was about to close it when she got hooked on watching it. The Battle of New York.
"It was said the Avengers were helped by Shield." The first ever leaked activity from Shield was done by the Rising Tide hacktivist organization. Not that she wanted to associate with the group but it was the face of a redhead woman in the background that got her attention. She seemed familiar to her.
Skye snapped her fingers and recollected her memories. Battle of New York! "Stabby Stabby woman!"
After that was one significant detail she remembered, she had the same logo of SHIELD on her tactical suit. She didn't think about it until now.
"Never come a day, I'm happy someone tried to kill me," Skye said amazed.
*knock* *knock*
Skye was out of her musing following the knocking.
"Room service" came a holler from the other side of the door. Skye looks at the time on her phone. It was 2 in the morning.
"I'm sorry. I don't need it. Come back later, please!" she shouted back.
There was a momentary hesitation when she received no response, not even a wheeling of a cart of cleaning supplies. She found it suspicious and wanted to lock the door.
"Wait a minute. This is a motel." The minutes she said that, a small but distinct crash while something burst in. Out of nowhere, a corn dog headed straight for her face.