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When Bobbi texted her they would be going out that evening, Jemma had expected a nice upscale bar where they could relax after a rough week. She would love a well-balanced Cosmo after the mess she’d dealt with at the lab that morning.
How they wound up at a country bar, Bobbi flinging back shots of tequila while she tugged at the tight top Bobbi had insisted she wear, Jemma would never understand. When she had arrived home to their shared apartment, Bobbi had met her at the door, shoving her into the bathroom to change into the outfit hung up on the back of the bathroom door.
Jemma huffed out a breath while eyeing Bobbi. The other woman slammed the shot glass on the counter, smiling widely before picking up her beer to chase it down.
“Tell me again why we’re here?” Jemma asked, voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.
Bobbi turned around, leaning against the bar and bending a leg to the rest on the paneling. “Because I was bored with the usual place, and this is the only place in time that didn’t sound like you’d get herpes just by touching the bar.” She took another sip from the almost empty bottle. “Besides, both of us need to get laid, and who doesn’t want a cowboy?”
Jemma looked at her dubiously.
“I use that as a gender neutral term of course.”
Jemma rolled her eyes. Playing with the frayed edges of her denim shorts, Jemma glanced around the bar, scanning the dance floor. She could admit the happy buzz in the place was nice, casual enough that it didn’t have the stuffy feeling some of the lounges Jemma commonly frequented, but the music wasn’t as loud and the dance floor wasn’t as packed as some of the clubs her and Bobbi had first tried when newly arriving to the city.
People crowded the dance floor, laughing and twirling, some grinding, but mostly dancing close with their partners instead of being on top of them.
Just as she was about to ask Bobbi if she would like to dance, Bobbi started walking away, yelling to wait there.
Jemma glared at her friend, cursing her under her breath as she looked back at the band on the raised stage. They finished their song, and the crowd cheered, and the group began packing up their equipment. A man in a loose blazer and dark jeans grabbed the mic, asking for another round of applause for the group that just departed. A healthy clap came from the crowd, but a buzz settled quickly, everyone seemingly waiting for something. The emcee then announced the next group, but Jemma lost the name of the performers in the roar of the crowd. Jemma guessed they were a regular act.
Three men came onto the stage, picking up a guitar, bass, and another testing the drums. No one stood behind the mic center stage, all three waiting on another person.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jemma caught another figure walking up the steps to the stage, waving to a few members of the crowd, the sound of people cheering growing again. Approaching the mic, it was a woman no older than Jemma.
Jemma looked the dark haired girl up and down, unable to look away from the stage. Soft black hair curved around a round face, falling past her shoulders and turning her from dark to light with bright highlights. Her face was subtly beautiful, gentle brown eyes with just a hint of mischief, sloping cheekbones and an adorable - honestly Jemma could think of no other way to describe it - smile tilted up her rosy lips. Her tanned complexion was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight. She dressed the part, straw cowboy hat on her head, a tight graphic tee with a plaid shirt tied around her waist, and a pair of the tightest black jeans Jemma ever had the pleasure of seeing on a woman.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?!” The crowd cheered in response. “So my name is Skye, and we’re Daisy Skyes!” The crowd yelled, but Jemma kept her eyes on the singer. “So we’re gonna sing a few covers for you guys to start tonight, and then we have some new originals we think you might like. How does that sound?” The mass of people gave their approval.
“Alright then,” Skye smirked, and launched into the first part of the set.
Jemma was immediately swept up in Skye’s performance. She had a good presence on stage, smiling at the crowd, pointing to a few members of the audience, and engaging in some antics with her fellow bandmates.
Then Skye’s eyes settled on Jemma.
Even across the floor, Jemma could swear she saw Skye’s eyes dilate, and Skye’s spine straightened just ever so slightly. For the remainder of the set, Skye’s eyes never left Jemma.
The band finished with an upbeat song, during which Skye left the stage to mingle with the crowd, grabbing a few hands to guide them through a quick dance, enjoying the music just as much as the crowd was. Jemma kept watch, not hiding the smile that broke out over her face. Skye obviously loved what she was doing.
After the song ended, Skye jumped back up onto the stage, placing the mic back in the stand. “So we’re going to take a quick break, but we’ll be back in a few minutes!” Everyone gave a cheer, and recorded music began playing over the speakers. Skye’s bandmates shuffled off backstage, but Skye had different plans. She jumped off the front of the stage, making a beeline for the bar, where Jemma was still leaning.
“So I haven’t seen you around here before,” Skye opened, holding her hand out for Jemma to shake. “I’m Skye.”
“Jemma,” She took Skye’s hand, and had a hard time letting go. Skye’s palm was soft, with a few callouses around the pads of her fingers. After what was most likely an inappropriate amount of time, Jemma released Skye’s hand; although from the look on Skye’s face, she didn’t mind one bit.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Skye asked, moving to lean against the bar and flag down the bartender.
Jemma blushed, but nodded.
“I’ll have whiskey neat, and for the lady?” Skye turned her head, asking for Jemma’s preference.
“Sex on the Beach,” Jemma blurted out, her blush growing darker. Skye laughed. Jemma very much liked that sound.
“One of my favorites,” Skye winked.
After the bartender set their drinks on the counter, Skye told her to put it on the band’s tab before handing the glass to Jemma and offering her own up for a cheers. “To new friends,” she proposed.
“To new friends.” Jemma clinked their glasses, both taking a sip.
“So Jemma, tell me, what brought you to this humble establishment?” Skye turned so her elbow rested on the bar with her legs crossed and her hip cocked down.
Jemma thought it was a rather delicious sight. “My roommate dragged me here. Wanted to try something new from our usual haunts. I have to say, I’m rather glad she did.”
Skye beamed. “Me too.” She took another sip. “Have you listened to country before? Going by your accent, I’m going to assume not much.”
Jemma shook her head. “Not really, no. I’m not one for music usually.”
“Well, I can only hope I can prove to be an exception,” Skye said, voice low and just loud enough to hear over the din.
“So far you’re proving to be rather exceptional,” Jemma took a step closer. She looked Skye up and down. She had no idea what was coming over her. Flirting never came easy, but Skye was soaking it all in.
They chatted for a few more minutes, idly exchanging small talk. They kept inching closer and closer. Jemma was close enough to feel Skye’s breath pass over her.
“Skye!” A voice called out from across the room. “We’re back on!”
Skye grumbled, tossing back the rest of her whiskey. “Talk to you after?” Skye asked, hope evident in her voice.
“Definitely,” Jemma confirmed, watching Skye head back up to the stage.
“Jemma! Jemma Jemma Jemma…” Jemma’s view of the stage was blocked by almost six feet of person, who evidently chose that exact moment to throw her entire body weight on Jemma’s shoulders.
“Bobbi! I’ve told you before, I can’t hold you up like this!” Jemma yelled, though Bobbi completely ignored her. Bobbi nuzzled into Jemma’s neck, pulling Jemma in as close as the laws of physics would allow.
“I’m tired Jemma,” Bobbi mumbled. “I want to go home.”
“Yes, but, I was hoping to stay just a bit longer…”
Bobbi responded with a long suffering whine.
Jemma sighed. She needed to get Bobbi home before she got belligerent. For a woman of Bobbi’s stature and muscle density, one would think she would be more accomplished at holding her liquor.
Starting shuffling them towards the door, she pulled her phone out to get them a ride home. She looked back to the stage, to see if she could communicate to Skye that she had to leave, but the girl wasn’t looking anywhere near her.
On their way out, Jemma made sure to ask the bouncer outside when Skye’s band played. Luckily enough, they also played the set on Saturday nights, too.
Jemma didn’t care how hungover Bobbi was tomorrow. She was coming back with her tomorrow, come hell or high water.
//////
Despite Bobbi’s complaints the next afternoon, Jemma still dragged her along to the bar once again. To make up for it, she conceded to leaving at the same time they did the night before. Depositing Bobbi on a barstool, she placed a water bottle in front of her. Assuming her spot from the previous night, Jemma waited for Skye’s band to start playing. Settling on the stool, she worried about the denseness of the crowd. Would Skye be able to see her through so many people?
She needn’t have worried. The moment Skye took to the stage, she picked her light brown curls out of the crowd, the singer’s eyes widening in surprise before she recovered her stage smile.
The night progressed the same way. Skye greeted the crowd, then dove into the first part of the set. Skye’s eyes would occasionally scan the crowd, making eye contact with other patrons, but her gaze always found its way back to Jemma.
During the set, Bobbi managed to raise her head off the bar surface to watch Skye perform. After a couple of songs, Bobbi leaned over and whispered, “I can see why you like her. She’s got spunk.”
Jemma slapped Bobbi on the arm, but didn’t take her eyes away from Skye. Finally, Skye announced that the band was going to take a break, and the recorded music started playing again.
Skye’s walk was more hurried this time, pushing through the crowd to get to the bar. Within moments, Skye was standing in front of her, dressed in the same fashion as the previous night, looking every bit the singing cowgirl she portrayed.
“When I said see you later, I wasn’t exactly thinking this later,” Skye joked, standing just outside Jemma’s personal bubble.
Jemma desperately wanted her to burst it.
“You can blame Bobbi for that,” Jemma motioned to her friend, who waved a lazy hand and smiled at Skye before turning back to the bar and ordering a Bloody Mary.
Skye nodded her head to the dance floor and offered her hand. “Wanna dance?”
Jemma took Skye’s hand, walking Skye to the floor as an answer. She wove through the crowd, finding a place in the center, where Skye adjusted her hand and tugged Jemma into her arms. Skye laughed at the quick look of shock on Jemma’s face.
Jemma recovered quickly, removing her hand from Skye’s and lacing both around her neck. Skye in turn looped her arms around Jemma’s waist, holding her close.
The song playing wasn’t so fast that holding each other was awkward, but it gave them something to move to. Skye guided her, leading her hips, keeping her tight to her. They swayed back and forth, Skye reaching up to take Jemma’s right hand in her left, keeping the other on her waist. Jemma blushed and laughed, tightening her arm around Skye’s neck as they rocked back and forth. Skye twirled her around, dipping her down as the song ended.
The beat changed, something a little raunchier, with lots of guitar and drum, a heavy bassline pushing the crowd together. Skye’s fingers hooked into the belt loops of her jeans, directing her to follow the beat. Breaking her hold to turn around, Jemma matched her back to Skye’s front, allowing Skye to put her hands back on her hips. The subtle tug on her shorts encouraged her to keep swaying to the music.
They continued on like that, getting closer and closer, matching the pace of the songs, laughing and joking with each other whenever they fell out of sync only to find each other again. At one point, Skye placed her hat on Jemma’s head, giggling when it fell over her eyes. Every time their eyes met, they held for another second, and another, both feeling the temptation to move in just a little closer…
The recorded music cut off after the end of the song, and a hand started yanking Skye away. Skye turned to her bandmate, who was yelling at her to get on stage from the looks of things, before the bandmate stormed away to get on stage.
Skye looked like she was going to head right to the stage, but she turned around and marched back to Jemma, getting real close before wrapping a hand around her waist again, landing just at the back pocket of her shorts and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. She quickly walked away, running after her bandmate.
Raising her hand to touch her cheek, Jemma remembered Skye’s hat on top of her head. “Wait! Your hat!”
“Keep it!” Skye yelled back, grinning wide. “It looks better on you!” She took to the stage then, starting up the music for the next part of the set.
Jemma felt a tug on the back of her shirt, and a rather ill looking Bobbi reminded her of her promise. Quickly getting Bobbi off the dance floor, Jemma looked back again at the stage. This time, Skye was looking at her, and the sparkle in her eye let Jemma know she understood.
Flagging down a cab, Jemma stuck her hand in her back pocket, finding a small piece of paper that wasn’t there before. Unfolding the slip, ten digits and a text me were scratched into the paper. She wasted no time in responding to Skye’s request.
This is Jemma. I can’t believe you managed to get this in my pocket without me noticing. Rather sly.
Knowing Skye was still on stage, she loaded Bobbi into a taxi and headed home.
After settling Bobbi into bed, Jemma readied herself for bed. She checked her phone one more time, surprised to see a text from Skye.
I have some pretty quick fingers.
I’d like to find out how quick.
Jemma rammed her head into her pillow. She couldn’t believe she had just sent that. When her phone vibrated, she immediately opened the message.
Now Ms. Jemma, I’m a proper Southern girl.
Her phone buzzed again with another message.
Can I know your last name before we find out more about each other’s dexterity?
Simmons.
Nice to meet you Simmons. I can’t wait to get to know you. ☺
/////
Over the next week, Jemma and Skye messaged constantly. Jemma learned about how while Skye performed on the weekends, during the weekend she worked for her adoptive father’s company working with computers. Jemma told Skye about her work in the lab with her roommate, and all the ridiculous happenings that occurred when working with one Bobbi Morse. She told Skye about her childhood best friend Fitz that worked in the engineering department of some major tech firm, only to find out that he built the computers Skye designed the code for.
They found that while they didn’t have much in common at a base level, they could both easily talk to the other about their interests. After the second day of texting, Skye called Jemma just after dinner, and they proceeded to have an hour long discussion over the current Avengers movie.
“Jemma, I’m telling you, Captain America is the greatest Avenger. I don’t see how you can argue this.”
“Because Skye, obviously the Black Widow is better. There’s just only so many reasons, and…”
Friday afternoon, after getting off work, Jemma received a text from Skye asking, Are you coming to the show tonight?
Of course.
Jemma had planned on going to the show all week. Their busy work schedules and not living in the same neighborhood had kept them from meeting during weekdays.
Hours later, she was back on her barstool, sipping the bartender’s special while waiting for Skye to finish her set. When the guitarist hit the final chord, it prompted Jemma to finish her drink and stand, Skye hopping off the stage to walk toward her.
The band stayed on stage however, smirking as the guitarist moved to the lead mic. “Skye asked us to finish things off for her since she’s too busy trying to sweep a girl off her feet.” The crowd laughed and cheered, and Skye shot up a middle finger from somewhere in the crowd.
“Hey,” Skye greeted, holding a hand out immediately. “Dance with me?”
Jemma allowed Skye to pull her to the dance floor this time, and the band started playing again.
Skye kept hold of her hand again, taking her waist, and Jemma reached up to lay her arm on Skye’s shoulder. Her hand touched the back of Skye’s neck, and her fingers drew patterns on Skye’s neck.
They swayed to the music, a gentle guitar strumming with the barest hints of drums in background. As they turned, Jemma felt her body relax against Skye’s, her head falling to Skye’s shoulder. She felt a rumble in Skye’s chest, realizing that Skye was singing along to the song.
“Wanna kiss your lips, I wanna make you feel wanted,” Skye crooned, just loud enough for Jemma to hear. Jemma lifted her head from Skye’s shoulder, staring her dead on. Skye smiled at her, eyes so gentle and bright, Jemma had to lean forward and connect their lips.
They stopped moving to the music, the kiss taking all their attention. Jemma’s hand disconnected from Skye’s, both palms cupping Skye’s face, while Skye wrapped her arms all the way around Jemma’s waist, pulling her in, fighting to bring her closer and closer.
They lost themselves in the feel of each other. The kiss remained chaste, simply lips touching lips, breaking only to take small breaths of air. When the final bars of the song played, the band walked off the stage, they finally broke apart.
Jemma returned her head to Skye’s shoulder, closing her eyes while Skye swayed to the song coming from the speakers. They didn’t match the beat, but neither cared.
They stayed like that until another one of Skye’s bandmates came to drag her back onstage, and before leaving Skye asked, “Wait for me?”
Jemma nodded, giving Skye a quick kiss before she went back on the stage. Then, whipping her phone out, she sent a quick text off to Bobbi.
Who would have thought I’d get a cowboy, gender neutral, before you?