[ That earns a look that's this close to intrigued, because magic's the obvious implication and a little bit cool. If creepy. But they've dealt with the inexplicable before, and it's never been magic. ]
Or alien.
[ He's not sure what that means, exactly. Not quite magic, not quite science. He thinks of Mack, eyes wrong and hands around Bobbi's neck, then glances down at the tablet's screen for a distraction. ]
We've figured out worse.
[ Which is meant to be comforting. He's not quite sure it is. ]
[ Worse hurts. Alien hurts. She grimaces through it, like she's chewing glass. Where Fitz thinks of Mack, Skye thinks of herself. Of Trip's face in ashen stone. Of the earthquake she caused crumbling him to nothing more than dust. Of the lobby, and how Regina made her wonder if she did have people who'd support her that way.
She'd asked him once, if an 0-8-4 could ever be a person. Fitz's words still stick in her mind today: I'd hate to meet him. ]
Not alone.
[ That's what really makes her wonder. This is just Fitz and Skye. No Coulson or May or Simmons. In over their head, no resources. ]
I'd eat my own shoe for a sat phone right about now.
[ There's something in her voice that makes him look up, eyes meeting hers. Whatever curiosity's there, he doesn't voice it. ]
We aren't alone.
[ There's a quiet confidence in spite of the flat inflection. His memory ticks back to the train, the last time it'd been just them, the sight of Skye pallid and covered in blood. Leaving her alone had been a mistake, then. He realistically knows that they can't spend every second together in the hotel, and that it's probably just the cold and the lack of sleep talking, but after a beat of silence: ]
Is it... do you want me to stay?
[ Which sounds a little bit like some kind of pick-up, in retrospect, but instead of awkwardly backpedaling he simply lets context speak for itself. ]
[ Reaching one arm around his shoulders, she pulls him to her side, turning her face to bury it briefly against his shoulder. Her fingers clap on the slope of his opposite shoulder, where it curves up to meet his neck. Her thumb rubs against the protrusion of his spine there, and she's smiling when she straightens away. ]
You can come back.
[ She playfully swats at his ribcage, as if to force him to skedaddle. Leave it to Skye to be upbeat enough to make it impossible if she's actually going to shiver and mope or if she's reading it as a pick-up and inviting it or just being an overly cuddly bro. Happy people are weird. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Or alien.
[ He's not sure what that means, exactly. Not quite magic, not quite science. He thinks of Mack, eyes wrong and hands around Bobbi's neck, then glances down at the tablet's screen for a distraction. ]
We've figured out worse.
[ Which is meant to be comforting. He's not quite sure it is. ]
no subject
She'd asked him once, if an 0-8-4 could ever be a person. Fitz's words still stick in her mind today: I'd hate to meet him. ]
Not alone.
[ That's what really makes her wonder. This is just Fitz and Skye. No Coulson or May or Simmons. In over their head, no resources. ]
I'd eat my own shoe for a sat phone right about now.
no subject
We aren't alone.
[ There's a quiet confidence in spite of the flat inflection. His memory ticks back to the train, the last time it'd been just them, the sight of Skye pallid and covered in blood. Leaving her alone had been a mistake, then. He realistically knows that they can't spend every second together in the hotel, and that it's probably just the cold and the lack of sleep talking, but after a beat of silence: ]
Is it... do you want me to stay?
[ Which sounds a little bit like some kind of pick-up, in retrospect, but instead of awkwardly backpedaling he simply lets context speak for itself. ]
no subject
You can come back.
[ She playfully swats at his ribcage, as if to force him to skedaddle. Leave it to Skye to be upbeat enough to make it impossible if she's actually going to shiver and mope or if she's reading it as a pick-up and inviting it or just being an overly cuddly bro. Happy people are weird. ]