Property Of Shield

It was Simmons' turn to cook, and she soon proved the old canard about English cooking wrong. Everyone enjoyed a hearty meal during the debrief. That was an idea Coulson had come up with to increase morale. But halfway through the discussion of the Dubai mission, Coulson got up with his phone buzzing. "Sorry, gang, urgent matter. Finish the meal without me and save some chicken. Oh, Ward? Make sure Skye eats her greens."

He left, prompting a mad rush for the dinner rolls that Skye didn't participate in. "What was that?"

"Probably just Hill wanting to gossip about

Cap,"

Fitz joked.

"No, that stuff about me 'eating my greens.' I don't have to eat something if I don't want to!"

"Coulson just wants you to get all the nutrition a SHIELD agent needs," Grant assured her. "Besides, you can't have ice cream if you don't have your greens."

"I'm an adult! If I want, I can have my dessert and then my greens!"

"Okay, but I'm telling Coulson."

Dejected, Skye began to eat her greens.

***

A week later, they'd discovered that the demon of Timbuktu was really a Stark robot with a bug in its programming. Tony apologized profusely, or so Pepper Potts said. Skye was more interested in the motorcycle Ward had been showing her to ride. Her plan was to take it out of the Bus for a night on the town. So she told May when the older woman asked.

"Be back by eleven," May told her.

"What, I have a curfew now?" Skye put a hand on her jutted-out hip as she asked.

"No, that's when the plane takes off."

Skye's cheeks burned. They generally seemed flammable around May. "Oh."

"But that's a good idea. Your curfew is ten-thirty and I'll be checking your breath for alcohol."

Skye's face couldn't have fallen further if May had told her Justified was canceled. "

I can't drink now!?"

"Not when you're operating a motor vehicle."

"Oh. Right. I won't. And you were just kidding about the curfew, right?"

"Do I look like I do a lot of kidding?"

"But Maaaaay!"

"You'll have even less time to enjoy yourself if you keep arguing with me."

Skye grabbed her helmet with a grunt. She came back at ten-fifteen.

***

Skye slept in, coming to breakfast late and only just managing to snatch a crepe. Coulson looked at her with concern as she stuffed it into her mouth. "Getting enough sleep?"

"Yeah. Just need some coffee now because I'm addicted to caffeine."

"Sure? It'll stunt your growth."

Skye gave him a bleary look. He pointed to the coffee machine. She poured, yawning.

"What?" Skye asked of his furrowed brow. "I don't have a bedtime."

"No, but if you're having trouble sleeping, I could go over some mission logs with you until you're KOed." Skye laughed. "Or, I know some Gregorian chants. Very soothing."

Skye's face froze. "Did I just get a choice between reading a bedtime story and singing a lullaby?"

"...if it's night terrors, I find that keeping a small light on is very effective..."

"

I do not need a nightlight!"

Skye's outburst drew May into the kitchen. "Everything alright in here?"

Skye pointed at her boss. "May, Coulson's being mean to me!"

Then she realized what she'd said.

And people asked her why she used to hate SHIELD.

***

"Did you know the Heli-Carrier had a gift shop?" Skye asked, spinning through the science lab to show off its wares. On her head was a baseball cap with the SHIELD eagle, her black tee had white words reading 'Property of SHIELD,' and her Nike high-tops had Black Widow's insignia on the sides.

Fitz looked up from the acid he was pouring with a bashful smile. "Wow! You look great, Skye. Not that you don't look great in whatever you wear. And not that those clothes are better than your other clothes. All your clothes are good. I mean you'd look great with no clothes at all!"

Jemma grabbed Fitz's test tube before he could pour anymore into his beaker. "He thinks you look nice."

"Thanks, Fitz." Skye put her hand on her heart, then noticed the words under it. "Oh, this is just because I'm a SHIELD trainee, not because I consider myself to be a slave to a quasi-corporate military oligarchy."

Ward charged through the door, nearly bowling Skye over to corral Jemma and Fitz. "We've got our mole! Surveillance picked him up at his girlfriend's place. We can grab him now while they're—" He was thrown by the sudden sight of Skye. "Having S-E-X."

"I know how to spell." Skye protested. "And I've had sex, I'm twenty-three!"

Simmons gasped and brought her hand to her mouth.

"We can discuss this later," Ward said. "Right now we have to deploy. Skye, you're with me. I'll be making sure you don't get in over your head on this one."

"

And now I have a babysitter?"

"SO," Ward corrected.

"Why is everyone treating me like a kid?" Skye cried.

"We're not, sweetie—" Jemma began.

Ward said flatly "We have a go in ten minutes!"

"I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me why they see me as a child!" Skye stomped her foot in conclusion.

Then she realized what she'd said, again.

She stormed off, resisting the urge to slam the door behind her.

***

There wasn't much good feng-shui on an airplane, but Skye found the best place to Zen out after a frustrating week was the armory. Every week, May cleaned and dry-fired all the weapons, and she did it in a tanktop that showed off

the rest

of the guns.

"Why does everyone treat me like a kid?" she asked, leaning against the wall with her arms folded in what was in no way a yoga stance. "I'm a grown woman! I have boobs! Doesn't anyone notice my boobs?"

May coughed. "It's a joke. They're hazing you. If you didn't get upset, they wouldn't do it."

"But

why

do they see me as a kid? Why would they even joke about that? No one jokes that you get... sexually aroused by toast or whatever."

"That's because my attraction to toast is a very sore subject with me," May deadpanned. As always, it took Skye a moment to realize she was being sarcastic. "Honestly, Skye, what do you expect? You're young, you're inexperienced, and people cut you slack because of it. That affects people's perception of you. If you acted more grown-up, they would focus on that."

"I thought I was acting grown-up! Just because I have a facial expression once in a while and remember how to blink..."

May threw down a clip. "

Skye.

Think for a second. When it comes down to this team, you are a child. You're not held accountable for your mistakes. You don't take your job seriously. You don't even participate in the orgies."

"Now that is just not—" Skye's brain did a three-point turn. "Orgies? If that's a joke, you picked a bad time to open your sense of humor program."

May hummed a bar and went back to her guns. "I thought Coulson had told you about the orgies."

"Okay, you definitely said orgies. What are we talking about here? Do you mean it in the pro wrestling way, like 'an orgy of violence and body slams'?"

"No. The sex way. No one told you?"

"No!"

"Then... what do you think this team

does?"

"We're..." Skye waved her hands around. "America's daring, highly trained special mission force and stuff!"

"That's G.I. Joe." May sighed. "I can't believe they're making me explain this to you."

"Explain

what

?"

May stood up. "Alright. Listen closely. If I have to explain this, I'm only going to do it once; have you ever wondered why we never work with Captain America?"

"Hmm?"

"Captain America? Or Iron Man, Black Widow, Hawkeye—anyone important? Even Maria Hill?"

"They're... you know... doing other stuff."

"Skye, the President was kidnapped. We weren't called. Aliens invaded London. We weren't called. We cleaned some stuff up and then we met an Asgardian tourist. We're not the A-team."

"Okay, so we're the B-team, I knew that when we didn't get a spaceship—"

"We're not the B-team either."

"We're... we're the C-team."

May stuck her hand in the air and shook it a little. "We have a letter in front of our team. That's as far as I'll go. Now, why do you think that is?"

"Uhhh... is it because we don't wear the matching SHIELD jumpsuits?"

"Let me put it another way: ever wondered why everyone on this plane is bisexual?"

"Well, Jemma and Fitz are both British, so..."

"Let me put it a third way. How many people on the Bus would you like to bang?"

"Uhh... everyone, I suppose. I mean, not you!" Skye said quickly. "Not that you're, like, unbangable, but I just don't, uh, think about you that way. Much. At all! You're like a mother to me. One of my foster mothers. One of my foster mothers I didn't kinda wanna bang."

"Whoa. I've never wondered what Fitz would be like if he weren't a twink, but you answered the question regardless."

Skye planted her ass on the table and stared at May, trying not to show how uncomfortable the muzzle guard under her was "Just tell me what's up with the orgies. I don't think I'm slow on the uptake for not being able to get from clandestine intelligence agency to Bacchanalia in six degrees!"

"Look at the Discovery Channel on the new girl," May murmured, pulling her cleaning rod out from under Skye's ass. Without it, the muzzle guard actually felt kinda good. "Alright, Skye, it's like this. Coulson died saving the world, and Nick Fury felt really bad about it. When Coulson came back, he got offered retirement, pension, the whole nine yards. But Coulson's a born company man. He doesn't want to leave his post. So they cut a deal. Coulson gets a cushy job investigating rinky-dink stuff."

"Rinky-dink stuff?" Skye cried. "Those supersoldiers nearly ripped our asses apart!"

"There are about two hundred supersoldier programs in the world at any point of time," May said matter-of-factly. "We got the one named after a bug. Not even an intimidating bug."

"Centipedes are scary," Skye argued. "It's not like we're going after... PILLBUG, masters of destruction! And what does any of this have to do with orgies?"

"Let me put it this way. You've noticed how Ward is six foot three, early thirties, with a jaw so square you could use it to draw a straight line?"

"Yeah, so?"

"There's another agent in his mid-forties, five foot seven, who has three black belts and can shoot a housefly with a flintlock at forty paces. He's covered in burn scars and he's got a bald spot. Not to criticize Agent Ward, but perhaps you've noticed he doesn't shoot people very much."

"He's compassionate!"

"We're spies. We should shoot people. Pass me my drink, it's on the other side of your ass."

Skye picked up May's drink and handed it to her.

"Thank you. Fitzsimmons. Pretty smart, aren't they?"

"Yeah!" Skye agreed eagerly, before narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Don't you think a team should only need

one

scientist? And we could've. There's a seventy-year-old man with twenty-three PhDs. But he's seventy years old. While Fitzsimmons need to collaborate on how to spell 'consummate,' they're both in their twenties and cute as anime characters."

"Are you saying people are on this team just because they're sexy?"

"Not

just

because they're sexy. We didn't let Darcy Lewis join, and she was real keen on shooting people. But if you ask Coulson why he put together this team—" May gave Skye a look. "He did it all for the nookie."

"But... but...

you're

on the team."

"And not typing on a computer all day. I'm Asian. I like computers. But Coulson said if I flew his Soul Plane, I'd get to fuck and suck a bunch of young, impressionable SHIELD agents. Sure, Grant may whine about how his older brother used to pick on him like a little bitch, but he has a ten-inch hero and his tongue's made so many people see God that the Catholic Church considered canonizing him."

"You're messing with me," Skye said.

"Yes. His cunnilingus isn't that good."

"No! With the orgies! You're just fucking with me!"

"Actually, you're the only one on this boat I'm not fucking with. But since you're skeptical, I've arranged a demonstration via text message. Door."

Skye looked to the door just as Jemma came in, doffing her labcoat to reveal she had nothing on but the frosting over her breasts and the party balloons tied to her crotch and butt. Working fast, she lit the two candles stuck in the frosting. "Happy biiirthday, Agent Maaay..." Belatedly, she noticed Skye. "Skye! May, you clearly texted '63'! This is obviously a Code 47 at least!

Is it even your birthday?"

"Hi Jemma," Skye said distantly.

"Oh, hello Skye. I was just mixing some frosting and I didn't want to get any on my clothes, so I... used my breasts."

Skye cleared her head with a shake. "You don't have to lie to me, Jemma."

"Alright. Okay. No more lies." Jemma took a deep breath. "Skye, when two people love each other very much, sometimes they express that love physically. Or when they love each other's bodies very much. Or when one of them has a lot of money and the other is an English major..."

"I'm leaving," Skye announced.

"Shut the door behind you," May called, and of course, Skye disobeyed orders. "Fine. See if I care. Jemma, get on the table. This shotgun barrel is dirty anyway, so I'm going to do things to you with it."

"Is the shotgun loaded?"

"No."

"Can it be?"

***

Chapter Management

Skye did her best to forget about May's insinuations. She was pretty sure that May and Jemma were playing a prank on her. A prank that required Jemma to shave her vag. Skye didn't know she had it in her.

The next day Skye was taking her firearms exam again, this time at SHIELD Base 14, which she hoped would be lucky. She focused on that. Aced the written portion as usual. Then went to the firing range and Victoria Hand was there, immaculate except for the ear muffs hanging around her neck.

"Well. If it isn't Skye again. They let you off the Bang Bus early?"

Skye wheeled on her. "Okay, the first few times you said that, it was funny, but now that I know what you mean, I'm offended!"

"You're offended? You've tried to get a weapons clearance five times."

"Guns are loud! And scary! And I'm a hacker, I'm honestly never going to use one."

"Five times."

"I can flip people. You have no idea how good I am at flipping."

"Gun's on the table," Hand said. "Try to remember which end the bullets come out."

"Jerk," Skye whispered under her breath, grabbing the gun. She checked the safety, loaded it, worked the slide...

"You know what I heard?" Hand asked. "I heard that every time you fail your firearms exam, Coulson gives you a spanking."

"Not true!"

"It would explain a lot. I'm not judging, though. The man has nice hands. If he were a balding, middle-aged lesbian instead of a balding, middle-aged man..."

"Ew!"

"She could wear the same suits, even. I'll admit it, I joined SHIELD for the pantsuits."

"You too, huh?" May asked, coming out of another stall on the firing range, depositing her gun on the table, and taking off her ear muffs with a flip of her hair that was everything true in the universe.

Skye closed her gaping jaw so hard that her teeth clicked.

"Agent May," Hand said. "Nice seeing you. When you're done playing in the minor leagues, perhaps you could come and work for me. I'd love to have you serving under me."

"And I'd like it if you fingered me... for a position on your team." May tilted her head to the side. "But let's see if Skye's learned to fire a gun without closing her eyes. Wouldn't want her getting spanked. It's not even the weekend."

"That is not a—I am going to—" Skye groaned in frustration. "Know what? I'm going to fucking ace this test. I'm gonna make it my bitch." She got in Hand's face, so close that when she breathed, it fogged up Hand's glasses. "I'm gonna pimp this test out to other tests until it gets knocked up by the SAT, then I'm gonna pay for its abortion, and them I'm gonna pimp it some more. Dolla-dolla bills, yo. And I'm so sure about that, that if I don't make this test, I really will get spanked by Coulson. May, you're... you. Say if I don't pass this test, you're getting me spanked."

May's arms were crossed. "If Skye doesn't pass this test, she's getting spanked thirty times, by Coulson, in front of the team, while bare-bottomed. I swear this on the mystical city of K'un-L'un."

"Wha?"

"It's a big deal."

"No, I know that K-pop group, I'm just wondering about that really specific scenario."

"Thought you'd prefer it to Hand's ideas."

"I suppose it's a bare-handed spanking?" Hand interjected.

"Yes. And no mustard."

"You're getting soft in your remarkably youthful-looking old age."

"Okay, power lesbians, doesn't matter, I'm kicking this." Skye pulled her ear muffs on. "Alright, motherfuckers. Get used to my ass being this pasty, because this test is

fucked

."

***

Coulson closed the file gently, breathed in the ambiance of his office, then regarded Skye. He smiled serenely. "So you shot someone. It's not the end of the world."

Skye was seated with May standing behind her, like Death, only... nope, like Death. "She shot someone," May reiterated. "On a firing range. The one environment on Earth most designed to not allow someone to get shot."

"In my defense, I don't think my ear muffs were working. Maybe I had 'em on backwards..."

Coulson rapped his knuckles on the file. "Well, fortunately it was only a leg injury, so he'll just be going through years of painful therapy and emotional trauma."

"In my defense, I said I was sorry..." Skye trailed off a little.

"Yes, well, I think it's best if we train you to be one of those agents who doesn't use a gun."

"I'm going to use a bow, like Hawkeye?"

Coulson shook his head.

"Then those cool stinger wrist bracelets, like Black Widow has?"

"No, I was thinking pepper spray."

"Oh."

"Once you've passed the exam for pepper spray."

"I accept that. But let's be fair, I watched a Mythbusters where they said that exactly what happened, couldn't happen."

"This is global espionage, Skye, not a wonderful educational TV show."

"Alright then. I will just go cancel my order for that sweet Battlestar Galactica holster I saw on etsy." Skye got up to leave.

"Just a minute," Coulson called.

"What, you want it? It is pretty awesome."

"I'm also aware that you made a bet that if you didn't pass your firearms test—" Coulson opened the file, flipped through, and traced his finger to a particular line. "Ah. You would be spanked, by me, thirty times, with the team watching, and bare-bottomed." He looked up at May. "Mustard?"

"No sir."

Coulson gave Skye a smile. "Well, that's a relief, huh?"

Skye laughed incredulously. "You're really—guys, c'mon, I was

joking."

Coulson regarded the file again. "No, says right here, 'Trainee Skye was not joking.'"

"Wear the Property of SHIELD T-shirt," May added. "It'll be hot."

"Guys! C'mon! I know you all see me as a kid, but spanking me when I screw up?" Reading the room, Skye decided she probably should've have asked from sympathy from someone who had died and Melinda May in general. "Okay, what happens if I say no? Are you just gonna hog-tie me and...?"

"No, you can say no if you wish. But you'll have to settle that with May. You did make her promise to see this through."

May's arms were

very

crossed. "If you don't do this, we won't be friends anymore."

"We're friends now?"

"Of course. I've never smacked you when you annoy me."

"Alright, one more time for the person who isn't a porn star slash secret agent." Skye took a deep breath. "You expect me to take my pants off and get my ass smacked thirty times in front of all my friends."

"That's correct." "About the size of it."

Skye nodded to herself. "Can I have some tequila first?"

***

May turned out to be really good at mixing Tequila Sunrises, and after three of them, Skye was feeling really good about getting spanked more or less in public. With May's hand on her shoulder, she walked out of Coulson's office.