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Jemma Simmons doesn't feel at all guilty about letting the apartment door slam on the way out. It's one of her stepmother's pet peeves so it gives her a little thrill of satisfaction, a little bit of payback for the whispered conversations she always overhears between her parents, for the way they gossip about her just like everyone else Jemma has ever come into contact with. Jemma only wishes that she could go back and slam the door a hundred more times, just so her father gets the message as well.
But instead, she just heads toward the stairwell, hurrying down five flights of stairs and toward the bustling street below. With every step, Jemma tries to push thoughts of mutiny from her mind, thinking instead of the weight of her backpack on her shoulders, the assurance that the bag is full of textbooks and journals and pencils waiting to be sharpened. Inside her college level calculus and chemistry and biology books are things that make perfect sense to Jemma. The equations and formulas and Latin names are easier for her to decipher than distant stepmothers, cruel peers and a father who looks at her like he can't understand where she came from. Jemma is much happier spending her Saturdays in the library than trying to navigate the cramped apartment; in sixteen years, she's yet to find her place there. She's given up trying.
It's raining outside and Jemma feels a stab of annoyance, frustrated with herself for not realizing this before she stormed out. There's no way that she's going back for an umbrella now. All she can do is hope that her books don't get soaked by the time she makes it to the library.
There are still a handful of people out on this rainy, early Saturday morning and Jemma dodges and weaves through crowds of tourists with practiced ease. She keeps her head down against the rain, gritting her teeth at the thought of how she's going to have to spend the majority of her day shivering and looking like a drowned rat in the public library. Stupid stepmother. Stupid half siblings. Stupid father. Stupid Jemma Simmons.
Clearly, she's in need of a pick-me-up. Jemma takes a breath, trying to calm the torrent of thoughts in her mind and the tension in her shoulders. She spies a small, hole-in-the-wall place that sells bagels and insanely delicious coffee and it looks so bright and warm that she can't resist pushing her way in.
The place is small and already full of people and Jemma hurries over to join the line snaking out from the counter. The man working the register spots her and gives her a smile and a nod before returning to ringing up the women waiting in front of him. Clearly someone enjoys her presence.
Within seconds, the bell over the door jingles again and Jemma glances over her shoulder to see who has just entered. A man, wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket that seems too small, like it's going to split due to the bulge of the muscles underneath. Jemma squints her eyes, staring at the massive man. Something seems strange about him, a little off, but before she can put her finger on it, she blinks and looks away, shaking her head as if to clear it. When she looks over her shoulder again, the man looks perfectly normal, albeit still insanely muscular.
Before the door even closes all the way, it gets yanked open again and a slim brunette with bangs comes hurrying in from the rain. Her sweatshirt is drenched, like she's been doing nothing but standing around in the rain and killing time. Her eyes meet Jemma's immediately and seem to brighten, as if in recognition.
Jemma looks away quickly, once again shaking her head. Wishful thinking, obviously. She doesn't think there's a person in this city that would look that happy to see her.
The line moves steadily and Jemma eventually makes her way to the counter, ordering a bagel with strawberry smear and a large coffee. She inhales gratefully when the cup is placed in her hands, smiling as she feels the drink start to warm her before she's even taken a sip.
Despite her plans to spend the majority of the day in the library, Jemma isn't ready to head back into the rain just yet and finds herself a small table in the corner, dropping her bag into the empty seat across from her. She starts spreading the cream cheese across her bagel, watching the other inhabitants of the shop. All of them are chatting and happy, clearly content in their place in the world for the time being. Even the children seem joyful and satisfied, certain in the love and acceptance of their family. Jemma can't help but feel a stab of jealousy at the thought.
Even though there are several other empty tables, the man in the too tight leather jackets sits down in the one directly beside Jemma's, staring down at his steaming cup of coffee but making no move to drink it. She doesn't know why but she suddenly feels herself flooded with a sense of unease and something almost primal, an instinct that is starting to unbury itself in her mind.
When Jemma looks over at the man, he's already staring at her, his eyes still hidden by the dark lens of his glasses. He tightens his jaw as he looks at her and Jemma feels her heartbeat start to quicken, dread continuing to pool in her stomach.
Before Jemma can decide to get to her feet and take her breakfast to go, the girl with the dark eyes and the dark hair is standing in front of her table, suddenly pushing her backpack aside to take the vacant chair. "Hey." She says cheerfully, grin bright. "How's it going?"
Jemma blinks at her, stunned. "Uh…do I know you?"
The girl just shakes her head. "No, not yet. But I really need you to come with me."
Jemma's shocked expression doesn't change. Between the guy sitting next to her and the girl sitting across from her, she thinks this is probably the weirdest morning she's ever had in her entire life. All she wants to do is get the hell out of here.
"Um, no that's all right." Jemma says, swallowing as she gets to her feet. She reaches for her discarded backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. "I have to go."
As she pushes her way past the tables, the girl quickly trails after her. Jemma is unnerved but honestly not surprised to see that the large man also stands, following them out of the shop.
Jemma quickens her pace when she gets out onto the sidewalk but the girl catches up with her easily. "Listen, you're just going to have to trust me on this, okay?"
"Why would I trust you?" Jemma scoffs, rolling her eyes at the girl. "I don't even know you."
"My name is Skye. And you're Jemma Simmons, right? We've been looking for you." The girl tells her brightly, as though this all makes perfect sense. "I know all of this is crazy and hard to explain but you're just going to have to go with me on this one, okay? You're in danger but I know somewhere you'll be safe."
Jemma stops walking and whirls around to face her. "Right now, the only person I feel like I'm in danger from is you." She snaps, stepping away from Skye. "Please leave me alone."
In her mind, Jemma can't help but calculate how close she is to the nearest police precinct. Definitely not how she was planning on spending her Saturday morning but she's a bit too rattled to just disappear into the library right now anyway.
Jemma quickens her pace until she's sprinting, ignoring the looks and noises of protest from the other people on the sidewalk. She ignores the sound of Skye calling her name, focusing on nothing but putting as much distance between the two of them as possible.
She goes several blocks before she allows herself to slow her pace, relaxing as she turns left at one of the street corners, weaving through the crowds of people once more. Hopefully, she'll be lost from Skye and anyone else for good.
Jemma's sense of relief quickly disappears when she realizes that, while she might have lost Skye, there's still someone else she can't seem to shake. The bald man in the sunglasses and leather jacket is standing on the other side of the street, unbothered by the rain or the people that move around him. He's staring at Jemma, his large hands curled into even larger fists.
He starts across the road, undeterred or unafraid of the cars making their way through the street, and Jemma breaks out into a run, no longer caring where she's headed as long as it's far away from him.
When someone grabs onto her bag, Jemma can't help the scream that tears itself from her throat and she swings out her arm blindly, hoping to dissuade her assailant. But the hand that grabs her wrist is thin and delicate, hardly how she would imagine being grabbed by the thick, meaty hands of the man following after her.
"Whoa, calm down. It's me." The voice belongs to Skye and Jemma whirls around, pulling herself out of her grip. "Just listen to me-"
"No!" Jemma shouts, taking a step back. "You listen to me! What is going on? Why are you following me! Why is that…that man following me! What's happening?!"
Jemma feels her face start to drain of color when she looks over Skye's shoulder and sees the man is still there, marching steadily down the sidewalk, growing closer by the second. Skye looks around to see what has caught Jemma's attention and her eyes get wide with fear.
"We need to go. Now." Skye reaches out and grabs Jemma's hand, pulling her down the sidewalk, encouraging her to break into a run.
The sight of the man still following after them is enough to make Jemma happy to comply, her hand still clutching tightly at Skye's.
"Who is he?" Jemma pants as they run, turning corners and nearly taking out groups of people waiting to cross at each curb. "Why is he following us?"
"He's after you." Skye tells her without breaking her stride. "He's a Cyclopes."
Jemma nearly jerks to a stop. "A what?!"
Skye gives her a grin. "I'll explain later."
"No, you'll explain-"
But then Skye suddenly comes to a stop, pulling Jemma nearly off her feet as she jerks to an abrupt halt, her hand still in Skye's. They're standing on the side of the sidewalk and Jemma glances behind them to see the man still steadily approaching. She looks back at Skye, fearful. "What are you doing?"
Skye just steps forward, putting the fingers of her free hand to her lips and letting out a shrill whistle. Jemma can see a blur of motion out of the corner of her eye and then, quick as she can blink, there's a yellow taxi waiting on the side of the road for them. The door springs open on its own accord and Skye looks at her expectantly. "After you."
Feeling like she has little other choice, Jemma gets into the cab and slides across the bench seat, making room for Skye. She sets her wet bag in her lap, wrapping her arms tightly around the backpack as though that can somehow make her feel better.
As soon as Skye shuts the door behind them, the cab is off, flying through the streets faster than Jemma can comprehend. The city streets and people and other cabs and cars pass by in a blur and the taxi doesn't seem to have any concept of following normal traffic rules. Jemma looks up at the front, only to see that there are three elderly and thin drivers instead of one and the meter is ticking away at record speed.
Jemma blinks and then pinches herself, certain that she's having some sort of dream. She's going to wake up in her bedroom in her cramped apartment and have to listen to her stepmother and father gripe about her and pick at her but this time she's just going to burrow beneath a blanket and take it rather than try to escape to the library. She might never leave the house again, honestly.
"What is going on." Jemma looks at Skye, making it clear that she's no longer asking. "Who was that man? Where are we going?"
Skye takes a breath, leaning her head back against the seat. "Just relax. We're safe now."
Jemma reaches out, hitting Skye across the shoulder before she can stop herself. She doesn't often have a temper but it flares inside of her sometimes, flashing through her faster than she can temper it and now is clearly one of those moments. Though it does feel pretty good to hit something.
"Tell me!"
Skye looks at her, clearly surprised by the outburst. Then she just smiles, rubbing at her shoulder. "Okay, geez. Settle down." She smirks. "Maybe they're wrong about you. Maybe you're a Daughter of Ares."
Jemma glares at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Okay, I promised Coulson I wouldn't tell you anything until we got there…Coulson is the Camp director, he's kinda the man in charge. Oh, that's where we're going, by the way. Half Blood Hill, where Camp Half-Blood is." Skye tells her and Jemma has a hard time following her line of thinking as her words bounce all around. "We'll be safe when we get there. Monsters like that one can't cross the border."
Jemma takes a breath, trying to calm herself down. "Start from the beginning." She instructs forcefully.
Not that starting from the beginning seems to help any. Jemma feels her confusion only growing as Skye starts talking, her words swimming around in her head.
"You've only got one parent, right?" Skye questions in a way that suggests that she already knows the answer. "Your mom is gone, she's never been around. You've never met her before and your dad doesn't like to talk about her? Am I right?"
Jemma swallows and nods, not trusting herself to speak.
"You're like super smart, right?" Skye doesn't bother to wait for an answer, pushing on. "So I know you know all about Greek mythology. Gods and Goddess and all that. Well you know how in the stories they sometimes come down to earth and like…hook up with the mortals or whatever? Well they still do that and-"
"Hold on." Jemma holds up a hand, desperate for Skye to slow down for just a moment. "You want me to believe that Greek mythology is real? All the gods and…monsters and all those stories?"
Skye shrugs. "Well, I mean you don't have to believe it but they're all real anyway." She says simply, as though completely unperturbed by the tone in Jemma's voice or her words. "And your mother is a Goddess…that's why you've never met her. You're a Half-Blood, a demigod. Just like me." Skye says this proudly, a smile on her face.
Jemma can only stare at her, uncomprehending. Unbidden, a memory of the only time her father ever talked to her about her mother springs to mind: it had been on the morning of his wedding to Clare, her stepmother and they'd been sitting on the steps of the church, waiting for the big moment to begin. Jemma had been only five and she'd still held onto the idea that Clare would be more than a stepmother but would become the mother that she never had.
"Your mother is smart like you." Her father had said, completely out of the blue, unprompted by Jemma. "She told me that you would be too. Smart and beautiful, just like her. She'd named you Jemma, you know. She'd called you a precious gem."
Jemma had only stared at him, silent, absorbing his words, trying to imagine this moment. "And then she left."
He had nodded then. "And then she left."
Jemma closes her eyes, bringing herself back to the present and to the girl sitting in the back of the cab with her. "None of this makes any sense." She says softly.
Skye shrugs. "I know…that's part of why Coulson wanted to be the one to talk to you. He explains all these things better than I do."
"It's just hard to believe." Jemma opens her eyes, searching Skye's face. She sees nothing but sincerity there. "My mother is a…a Greek goddess? How is that even possible? How does that make any sense?"
Another shrug. "I'm not sure that it does." She admits. "But that's just the way it is."
Jemma swallows, pursing her lips. "Who…who is it?"
"Coulson thinks it's Athena, you know, the-"
"Goddess of Wisdom, yes I know." Jemma interrupts without even thinking about it. Smart and beautiful.
Skye quirks and eyebrow, scoffing. "Well you've got the smarty-pants thing down." She teases.
It's not like Jemma has never heard that particular moniker before. She's been called many things since she little: a know-it-all, teachers' pet, smart-ass, too smart for her own good, nerd, brainiac. If Skye is to be believed…she gets it honestly.
"So who was that man?" Jemma questions, rather than focus on her parentage. "Why was he after me?"
"I told you: he's a Cyclopes." Skye supplies. "Monsters like that…they try to kill the Half-Bloods like us. They can like…smell us or something." She wrinkles her nose at the thought. "Usually the Protectors from the camp try to the find the Half-Bloods when they're little so they can protect them and bring them to the camp. You must have just slipped through the cracks. It's pretty impressive that you survived this long on your own."
Jemma finds it more unnerving than impressive, honestly. She just wrinkles her nose, looking at Skye. "Is that what you are? A protector?"
Skye shakes her head with a laugh. "No, I told you. I'm a Half-Blood, like you. When we finally found you…well, Coulson told me to wait but…I'm a little impatient." She confides with a wink.
Jemma just shakes her head, closing her eyes and leaning back against the seat. "I think…" She sighs. "I just need a moment."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jemma's conversation with Phil Coulson, the Camp Director, don't really make her feel much better but somehow it's easier to digest hearing the words from someone older, with a gentle face and understanding eyes. It's odd how so many of the things that Coulson tells her make sense to Jemma, how his odd words make certain occurrences in her life seem less strange.
"So when can I go home?" Jemma questions as the conversation starts to wrap up and she looks at Coulson expectantly.
Coulson hesitates, pursing his lips. "Technically, you may leave whenever you like." He tells her. "We aren't going to keep you here against your will. But outside the boundaries, you won't be protected anymore. The monster in the city…he won't be the last. But the choice is yours. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like."
Jemma suddenly feels too exhausted to think about doing anything but sleeping and something in her posture must tell Coulson this because he smiles at her softly and puts a hand on her shoulder.
"There's already a bed for you in the Athena Cabin. Skye can show you around, if you want. Or I can have someone else-"
"No, Skye is fine." Jemma tells him quickly, getting to her feet. It's strange how Skye already feels comfortable and normal, the only thing that she knows in this crazy and new world around her. "Thank you."
Skye is waiting for her on the porch that wraps around the cabin where Jemma and Coulson have spent the last hour talking. She's traded her wet clothes for a vibrant orange shirt and jeans and her damp hair is twisted back into a ponytail. She hops off the railing when she sees Jemma, a smile on her face. "Hey. You okay?"
Jemma just shrugs, waving a dismissive hand. "As okay as I can be right now." She mutters. "Coulson said something about the Athena Cabin?"
Skye nods and gestures for Jemma to follow her. "Yeah, all the Gods have their own cabins so their kids know where to stay when they've been claimed by their parent." She explains as they walk. "There will be a handful of other people staying in the cabin with you. Your half brothers and sisters."
Jemma decides to let that comment pass without any comments of her own. She's dealing with too much right now to comprehend the fact that she has other siblings out there.
As they walk, Jemma tries to take in her surroundings. The space seems to be bustling with activity, from little kids wrestling and play-fighting under the watchful eyes of older men and women to older teens practicing archery or swordplay. They pass a large stable and Jemma is shocked to see that most of the horses inside have large wings folded onto their backs. Though, that's nothing compared to the realization that some of the members of the camp have horse bodies or goat legs.
Several heads turn to study Jemma as she passes but she ignores the stares easily. Most of the campers are dressed like Skye, in bright orange shirts and jeans or shorts. Most of the activities seem to take place outdoors and involve some sort of physical challenge, though Jemma has seen a handful of people lounging about with ancient books or scrolls spread out in front of them. She feels a tug at her curiosity, a desire to grab one of the scrolls for herself and see what secrets it contains.
All of the buildings are modeled after the ancient Greek designs that Jemma has seen in textbooks. They all sport twisted columns and large, stone roofs that tower above, pointing skyward. The steps are also stone, as are the floors that Jemma can see. Several of the buildings are completely open and one is full of rows and rows of long, wooden tables. It looks oddly like the cafeteria from Jemma's own school, though in a completely strange setting.
"So," Jemma begins as they walk past the cabins, "each child stays in the cabin belong to their mother or father?"
Skye nods, pointing out some of the buildings as they walk. "That's Poseidon and Hera and Demeter and Ares and-"
"Which one is yours?" Jemma asks, suddenly overcome with curiosity. She can't believe that she's neglected to ask that particular question until right now. All this talk about Half-Bloods and she has no idea who Skye belongs to.
Skye makes a face, furrowing her brow. "Actually…I…I don't know." She replies, wrinkling her nose. "I've been the foster system my whole life…even my mortal parent didn't want me." She tries to laugh but it comes out funny. "No one has claimed me yet so I don't know where I belong." She points to one of the cabins, large and hardly as pristine as the others. "That's where I stay: the Hermes Cabin. If you don't know where you belong, they just stick you in there. It's a lot like a group home."
Jemma feels oddly compelled to reach out and pat Skye on the shoulder. "I'm sorry."
But Skye just shrugs, waving a dismissive hand. "I don't care." She says in a way that has Jemma doubting her words very much. "Coulson found me anyway, knew I was a Half-Blood even if he couldn't figure out who my parent was. Being here is a hell of a lot better than being shuffled around from place to place, believe me."
They don't talk much more after that, not until they come to a stop in front of the Athena Cabin. "Make yourself at home." Skye suggests, shifting awkwardly, threading her hands together. "I can come get you for dinner, if you want."
"I don't know if I'll be staying for dinner." Jemma tells her quickly, even though she has an odd sinking feeling that she's lying. "But if you'd like to check in-"
"I can do that." Skye smiles, nodding.
Thankfully, the cabin is empty when Jemma walks in; she's not in the mood for explanations or introductions or anything else that's just going to make her head spin. She picks a bed that looks unused and falls on top of the mattress, pressing her face against the clean smelling pillow and letting herself drift off to sleep in spite of the insane morning that she's had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Just like she knew she would, Jemma stays for dinner. She sits next to Skye at the long, worn wooden benches and puts up with all the people sitting around them firing off questions at her in between stuffing their faces. Jemma can't keep them all straight, despite her best efforts. There's Leo Fitz, who belongs in the Hephaestus cabin with Alphonso Mackenzie and Bobbi Morse from Ares and Grant Ward from Nike and Lance Hunter who comes from the Apollo Cabin. Everyone that Jemma talks to seems to know exactly where they belong, which makes her feel terrible for Skye and they all seem to be very okay with the fact that one of their parents is a Greek god, which makes her feel terrible for herself.
However, spending her time having a delicious and relatively normal meal with people who discuss training and monsters and experiences with characters that Jemma thought only lived in stories makes her feel strangely better about the whole thing. Clearly she's not suffering from some sort of delusion, clearly she's not going crazy. Unless they're all suffering from the same delusion and have all gone crazy, which could definitely be the case as far as she knows but Jemma is going to think about it in a more positive way.
After dinner, Skye walks with her back to the Athena Cabin and Jemma looks up toward the sky, amazed by the sight of all the stars and the shine of the moon overhead. Definitely a sight that she isn't used to seeing after living her whole life in New York City.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Skye questions, pulling Jemma's thoughts back down to earth. "It makes everything seem a little less crazy."
Jemma scoffs and shakes her head. "I don't know about that." She replies but there's a hint of a smile on her face. "So how long have you been here?"
Skye shrugs. "Since I was…ten, I guess." She replies. "The longest I've ever spent in one place."
"Does it bother you?" Jemma questions, even though she has the feeling that that's a pretty intrusive question to be asking someone that you just met. "Not knowing who your parents are?"
All she gets is another shrug. "What can you do?" Skye looks at her and the darker expression on her face disappears. "So, ready to pack your bags?"
Jemma makes a noncommittal noise but again, she has that feeling in her chest and in the back of her mind, like she already knows the answer to that question.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jemma manages to get word to her parents, telling them not to worry about her, telling her father that she's decided to find her mother. Even then, he doesn't tell her the truth, fumbling out a handful of requests for her to come home, to rethink this decision and not do anything foolish. But Jemma finds that it's easy for her to hang up and be content with her decision to stay, at least for a while.
This place already feels like home to her. Her half-siblings all seem to understand her perfectly. They all share her honey-colored hair and hazel eyes, things she'd never seen in her father and, even more than that, they understand the pull she feels for knowledge and texts and lectures, the desire that overweighs everything else inside her. The need to know as much as she can. She doesn't feel like this sets her apart or makes her strange or unfamiliar. It just makes her who she is.
The days pass quickly, easily and Jemma alternates between perusing the large library filled to the brim with ancient texts and partaking in the training exercises that the camp directors insist all the Half-Blood children take part in. The constant reminder that they aren't safe once they leave the boundaries of the camp.
Through it all, Jemma spends time with Skye, letting the other girl show her the ropes of Camp Half-Blood and keeping her up to date with anything else that she needs to know. They're often paired together for training exercises and Skye always seems to be right there whenever Jemma needs help, whether it be with positioning herself for archery or getting the hang of using different types of weaponry.
Not that Jemma minds.
It's from Skye that Jemma first learns about the upcoming game of Capture the Flag, which is apparently a Camp Half-Blood tradition given the way that the camp is starting to buzz with excited chatter. "I guess we're going to be rivals on this one, Simmons." Skye remarks as she drizzles honey across her pancakes. "The Hermes Cabin and the Athena Cabin are on opposite teams."
"Well, I'll try not to beat you too badly." Jemma teases, smiling when Skye bumps their shoulders together. "Athena is the goddess of wisdom and war, after all. It seems like victory is in the bag."
Skye rolls her eyes. "Glad to see that you're finally embracing your heritage." She jokes.
Jemma realizes that her words are true. It has been easier to accept all of the insanely crazy things she's been told over the past several weeks. She feels only the vaguest tinges of homesickness but for the most part, she already feels like she's home. Not that she's seen any more of her mother here than she did back in the city but it just seems better, like they're somehow closer.
For the next two days, it seems like all anyone could talk about is Capture the Flag. Jemma feels unprepared for the level of excitement and seriousness that the game brings out in her fellow campers, who seem interested in devoting every spare moment discussing strategies and plans.
"Hey, you're fraternizing with the enemy." Fitz accuses, mostly teasing, when he sees Jemma walk over with Skye beside her. "You better not be selling any of our secrets."
"Oh, no, she's definitely not." Skye assures him with a grin as they sit down for dinner. "Her lips are sealed."
Jemma looks over at her and feels her cheeks suddenly start to get hot, though she has no idea what could possibly be causing that reaction in her. Is she really so childish that Skye's simple mention of her lips could cause such a blush? Jemma looks away from before Skye can notice the expression on her face, giving her complete attention to the food in front of her, which only causes her to miss the way that Skye's eyes seem to linger on her features.
Jemma quickly takes a bite of her dinner before she says anything embarrassing and completely stupid. Like the fact that Skye could easily get secrets of her if she really tried.
Jemma really wishes that she would try.
Unfortunately, Skye doesn't seem interested in getting her to give up any Capture the Flag secrets and the big day is suddenly upon them. For the first time since her arrival at Camp Half-Blood, Jemma finds herself feeling a little ridiculous and has a feeling that the fact that she's suddenly clad in a chest plate with a spear in one hand and a helmet on her head has a lot to do with it.
"Is this really necessary?" She questions, looking over at Fitz doubtfully as she pushes the helmet back from her forehead.
Fitz just nods solemnly. "Definitely."
Jemma furrows her brow. "But I thought physical contact was strictly forbidden."
Fitz laughs and pats her on the shoulder. "It's Capture the Flag. There are no rules."
The woods that ring the heart of Camp Half-Blood are massive, the perfect place to host a game where there are dozens of players, the majority of whom have been training with very sharp and pointy weapons. They know where the boundaries are and the rules are simple enough. Once those bases have been covered, the players are on their own.
Jemma's task is a simple one: she's supposed to guard one section of the perimeter around the space where her team has hidden the flag. She knows that Mack and several of her brothers have been positioned at various places around the flag, creating a secure guard that doesn't violate the "rules" of babysitting the flag. Jemma feels like she can handle this. All she has to do is ensure that no one slips past her and attempts to make a run for the flag.
The woods are quiet aside from the occasional call of a bird or the rustle of some animal moving around in the undergrowth. At least, Jemma assumes it's an animal; she can't really be certain, given all the strange things that she's seen since her arrival at Half-Blood Hill.
Rather than ponder the possibilities of being snatched and eaten by a Cyclopes, Jemma just focuses on patrolling her section of the perimeter, pacing back and forth across several yards of trees, bushes and patches of undergrowth.
It isn't until her fifth sweep of the area that someone suddenly grabs her from behind, pulling her backward through a clump of bushes and easily getting her feet out from under her, pulling her to the ground. The second Jemma thinks about lifting her spear in an effort to protect herself, it's knocked from her grasp and she's pressed firmly into the rough ground beneath her.
A hand reaches up to push aside her helmet and Jemma lets out a breath of relief, rolling her eyes. "Skye." She hisses. "What are you doing?"
"I couldn't resist." Skye says, a mischievous expression on her face. "You aren't a very good look-out. I've been watching you for like ten minutes."
Jemma rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous." She tries to set up but Skye is still keeping her pinned down, something she realizes very suddenly. Heat floods her cheeks and chest, traveling across the skin of her arms and her stomach and even lower down. She swallows. "Will you get off me?"
But it doesn't sound like she means it.
Skye shifts her position but not enough to allow Jemma to get up. She's hardly putting any weight on the other girl so Jemma is hardly uncomfortable. Far from it in fact.
"So is this part of your plan?" Jemma questions, feeling the words start to bubble in her throat, a sure sign of the nervousness that is suddenly flooding her body. "You're going to systematically take out the guards so that you can capture the flag and ensure victory for your team and-"
"I don't care about capturing the flag." Skye informs her frankly, peering down at her. Her hair is spilling over her shoulders and the mid-afternoon sunlight that manages to pass through the canopy of trees makes her look completely radiant.
"Oh?" Jemma isn't sure that she's capable of saying anymore than that. Not with how dry her mouth is or how rapidly her heart is beating. Her entire body is hot but it's nothing compared to how incendiary her skin feels where Skye has her wrists pinned down.
Skye smiles at her, shaking her head slightly. "I…" Her smile fades slightly, replaced by an expression of anxiety and doubt. "You and I…"
Jemma just nods dumbly because she's not sure what else she could possibly do at the moment.
Skye leans down and kisses her and Jemma finally manages to pull one of her hands out of Skye's grip, sliding it across Skye's side and letting it come to rest on her waist. She'd thought that a touch from Skye might soothe and quench the fire that was starting to build inside her, that that was all she needed to keep herself from burning up from the inside and out. Clearly, she was wrong. But she's all too happy to let this particular fire consume her.
It's hard for Jemma to tell how long they've been there, laid out on the forest floor and wrapped up in one another, when someone starts hitting the gong, the sign that the competition has finally come to an end. Skye moves away from her and Jemma feels like her head is spinning both from the feeling of Skye's touch and the sudden absence of it.
Jemma pushes herself up into a sitting position, her expression regretful. Skye is looking at her the same way, a frown on her kiss bruised lips. Her hair is wild, her cheeks rosy. Jemma smirks at her, reaching forward. "You have a leaf in your hair." She holds the offending leaf up for Skye to see.
Skye opens her mouth to reply but the sound of the gong vibrating through the woods cuts her off and returns the frown. "I guess we'd better go before someone misses us."
Well, Jemma misses her already but it seems counterproductive to point that out. After all, she'd rather the camp directors and her fellow campers not find her looking so rumpled and disheveled. Skye helps her to her feet and Jemma quickly sets to work tidying up her appearance as best as she can, attempting to smooth down the wrinkles in her shirt and comb her fingers through her hair.
When she's relatively satisfied, she turns to regard Skye. "How do I look?"
Skye eyes linger on her and Jemma feels her mouth start to go dry again. "Beautiful."
"Oh, Skye." Jemma rolls her eyes. "I hardly think that's true given-"
But Skye steps toward her, resting her hand lightly on the curve of Jemma's hip. Jemma falls silent, not surprised to feel the heat starting to build inside her at Skye's touch. "It's true." She assures her, leaning in to press her lips lightly against Jemma's.
She steps away again and Jemma clears her throat. "Right. I suppose we should join the others."
Skye lets out an overly dramatic sigh. "If we must."
Everyone is grouping around the place where Jemma's team has hidden away their flag, making the outcome of the game pretty clear. Jemma feels a little stab of guilt at the fact that her team has obviously lost and she hasn't been participating in the game for the duration but her only job was to ensure that no one crossed through the part of the perimeter that she was supposed to be patrolling. And that obviously didn't happen. Skye had been far too distracted, after all.
But still, Jemma hopes that no one can look at her and realize what it is that she's been doing.
The opposing team's captain, Ward, is holding up the flag, a victorious grin on his face. Skye's teammates are cheering and patting each other on the back while the people on Jemma's team are just doing a lot of scowling and muttering about the flaws in their plan.
Coulson walks over, patting Ward on the back. "Well, it looks like congratulations go to the Red Team. Well done."
Ward holds the flag up even higher and a new round of cheers breaks out among the competitors. Skye clearly gets caught up in the moment because she looks at Jemma with a mischievous grin before grabbing for her and pulling her in for a kiss.
They pull away and Jemma just stares at her, wide-eyed. Not that she minds the kiss, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd hardly thought that they'd be kissing each other so soon and with so large an audience. "Skye," she laughs, "what are you doing?"
"To the victor goes the spoils, right?" Skye questions, quirking an eyebrow.
Jemma can hardly argue with that.