“Just a check?” Trip said. “Fuck, Skye, this is Hydra. Any of these people could be Neo-Nazi assholes and I’m not letting them terrorize this academy or this organization any longer.” But she was gone before he finished, the door closed tightly behind her. With a groan, he put his head down on the files like it was some sort of pillow to scream into. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t the one who’d kissed the other out of the blue. Why did he feel like he had to fix this?
He’d let her run off once, though, and he wouldn’t let her do it again. Trip got to his feet and opened the door, peering out into the hallway. “Skye, wait,” he said, relieved to see she hadn’t made it far. “We need to talk.”
Skye spun on her heel. He’d followed her, of course he would. “Yeah? Wanna do 20 questions, Trip? I’ll tell you why I do questionable things when I’m afraid of losing people, you’ll tell me if you prefer your pizza crust stuffed,” she retorted, voice seeping with vulnerability despite all her efforts. “Look, you know I do things on impulse and fuck up. Colossally. You know I’m sorry for putting you in this position, but, here I am, giving you a way out. Walk away. I’ll understand.”
Trip stared at the files she’d just put on her desk. “Tell Coulson I’ll get right to it, then.” He turned to the first file - Adler, Shay - and started flipping through the pages, before tossing it aside and picking up Andrews, Eric. Class had been an excuse, anyway. Reading about how his coworkers and former classmates could by Hydra was a great way to spend an afternoon. “Thanks.”
Skye turned back to the door with a slight nod, but didn’t exit at that instant. She lingered, attention on the way his expression changed ever so slightly as he leafed through the files. Operations training, concealing not feeling. He was going to self destruct eventually, and yet something told her she wasn’t the person he could come to with it, not after what’d happened. She gave the frame a few light knocks to get Trip’s attention again, “Don’t think about it too much. It’s just a check. And, if you need me for whatever reason, I’ll be exactly where you’d expect me to be.” She closed the door behind her without giving herself the opportunity to hear the reply (in hindsight, she wasn’t certain it’d come), not going far, however, as she took a few hasty steps forward and just stopped dead in her tracks. What a mess.
“I’m not avoiding you,” Trip said. He didn’t even have to look up to know who came in the room. “I… classes are busy. I have a test to give. Probably. Maybe.” He looked up at Skye, sighing deeply. “Look, I-I don’t know what to say, okay? So you go first.”
Skye raised her arms in mock defeat as soon as he’d properly looked at her. “Good thing Coulson wrote my lines for me,” she scoffed, dropping the files she had with her onto his desk. “Psychological assessments. Find Hydra. I’m not here to talk about my feelings, Trip, I’m here to be a good, helpful soldier.”
“Well, this isn’t quite the conversation I was expecting to have,” Trip said. A pebble crunched under his shoe as he walked; he kicked it down the sidewalk until it bounced out of sight into a storm drain. “Yeah. I try not to think about it, but that’s just contributing to the problem, isn’t it? If we continue to not think about, things won’t end well for them.” He sighed, looking at Skye as she stared into the distance. “There’s so many good agents and potential agents in that room. I just wonder how many of them are also HYDRA.”
Feeling his eyes heavy on her, Skye finally tore hers away from the darkness, meeting Trip’s gaze with a nod as she turned to look at him. The silence lingered in the air for quite a while after he’d finished speaking, it wasn’t as if the situation could be changed with words. What they had to do now was wait. But, fuck, she was impatient. A few quick steps was all it took to close the distance between them, and she tiptoed for the second time that evening for entirely different purposes, sighing into the kiss she initiated.
It was brief, and when they broke apart, Skye’d collected herself enough to give him a small, but nonetheless proud smile. “This is how it’s done,” she stated simply, hand already resting on the door handle. “Thanks for the dance.” And, with that, she was gone.
“Sounds good to me,” Trip said. It was starting to get hot now that the dance was in full swing, and he definitely wouldn’t mind some fresh air. He turned on his phone and flashed the flashlight at Skye, smiling. “Ready when you are. Lead the way?”
Skye stopped just outside the entrance, brisk air hitting her immediately once she set foot outside. He’d caught up, she knew without having to look, but the next time she started talking, no response was expected. If anything, she just had to say it out loud. “It’s good, isn’t it? The fun they’re having in their own passive aggressive way? Feels like everything’s only gonna get better. But, unless all of Hydra decided to drop dead, it’s not. Can’t believe distracting us is this easy.” She paused, focusing on that one flickering street light just at the end of the sidewalk. “Sorry. I didn’t lure you outside to talk about philosophy. It’s just - Seeing them all in one room put a lot of things in perspective.”
“Hey, I went to those lessons, same as everyone else. I think I can do a feather step and a natural turn just fine.” Trip looked down at Skye, a small smile on his face. “You ready?” He extended his left hand out, grasping hers tightly, and wrapped his right arm around her shoulder.
She took her heels off with a relieved sigh once it was over, holding both of them by the counter in one hand. “They’ve been shown,” Skye declared, still slightly out of breath, but standing much straighter and shorter next to Trip. “Now, are you gonna chaperone them or me? This place has no oxygen and I bet the bushes are especially occupied tonight. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Why play Katy Perry when Uptown Funk exists?” Trip countered, putting up a little resistance. Still, he offered his hand to Skye and glanced toward the mostly empty dance floor, where the students were standing around awkwardly, waiting for someone else to go first. “Shall we show them how it’s done?”
“You look beautiful tonight as well, Skye.”
“I know. I didn’t spend five minutes trying to get into this dress not to look great.” With a (badly) suppressed smile, Skye placed her hand on his and let herself be led.
“Oh, and Trip?” Having wrapped her arms against his neck, she leant in, having to still tiptoe to reach the perfect whispering distance, cheek against his and mouth near his ear. “I don’t need you stepping on my feet.”
Trip jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his arm - Skye’s lucky he didn’t twist her arm and throw her on the ground. Damn, a month out of the field and his instincts were getting rusty. “Listening to the lovely music the DJ is playing,” he said. “Can’t you, like, hack this shit? One more Katy Perry song and I’m going to cut off my own ears.”
“Hello to you too, lovely night we’re having, great suit, you’re welcome for the way I hacked the speakers in advance. And, by the way, that is my playlist.” Skye slid her hand down Trip’s arm until she reached his hand, interlacing their fingers in order to gain full control over where he’d go. In this case, wherever she wanted to lead him. “The only van Gogh you’ll be is van going to dance with me. Right now. To Katy Perry. No complaining, you really don’t want to test me when I’m in heels.”
A day later, and Trip would be lying if he said he wasn’t the littlest bit nervous about tonight. And it wasn’t just because he’d signed up to be a chaperone and he knew all too well what went on at these things. It was going to be okay, though - he just hoped that he’d be doing a little bit more at this dance than keeping kids from spiking the punch bowl.
Y’know. If Skye actually decided to show up for something on time for once.
Skye wasn’t doing that bad, only running ten minutes late, and, to top it all off, with a dress she’d carelessly thrown on when it became apparent she’d be late. To make matters easier, the door she chose to enter through was the one Trip had chosen not to face. If only her sneaking up on him wasn’t complicated by heels, but that problem was solved by the music already blaring from the speakers (that were going to be hacked soon enough). “What’s a nice boy like you doing in this place all by himself?” she said once she’d reached him, lightly resting her hand on his arm.
“It was frickin’ nasty, man. I was one scarred little freshman. Kids haven’t changed that much, have they? Just watch out. Stay away. Bring a flashlight when you’re walking home.” He tried to shove that particular memory out of his mind. “You’re not that bad of a dancer, are you? Because I don’t need you stepping on my feet during our dance tomorrow night.”
“Great plan, Inspector Gadget. Bringing a flashlight so I’d see exactly what’s coming at me from the bushes.” quieter, now, “Pun intended.”
“Our what now? If I recall correctly, the words that followed the word ‘dance’ in the announcement were ‘not’ and ‘mandatory’, and -” Skye stopped, having realised the part of what he’d said she was latching onto was the wrong one entirely. “How dare you?I’m a great dancer. You’re on.”
