
Considering that this definitely ranks among her stupider plans (according to Mack, anyway, who actually keeps a list), it’s going awesome. So far, no one at the Academy seems to have even the slightest clue that Daisy is not, in fact, her twin brother Lance, and they don’t even look that much alike anymore. Sure, when they were little, the Sisters used to get them confused all the time, but these days? Please.
When she’d first told Mack of her idea to go to the Academy in Hunter’s place, to defeat her ex-best friend Ward at soccer in a crushing victory, he’d been bemused and wary. It was all, Daisy, no one will ever believe you’re Lance, and no, Daisy, dudes don’t talk like that. Well, suck it, Mack. She’s crushing it.
Actually, only almost crushing it. Her roommate, Trip, seems a tiny bit suspicious of her, but Daisy guesses that’s fair, considering how much time they spend together. Being a guy is more difficult than it seems, especially considering how the world is literally designed for them to run around doing whatever they want. And, unfortunately, what she wants is to not be second string on the team, and what Trip wants is Jemma Simmons.
It seems only natural to strike a deal with him. He’ll help her train, and she’ll help him stop acting like a total bumbling idiot whenever Jemma enters a room. Simple. Except not simple, because Trip is a desperate case. She’s literally never met someone with less game. It’s like watching a train crash. Not to mention that, from the few seconds of live-action disaster Daisy has been lucky enough to witness, Jemma seems to have zero romantic interest in her roommate. She’s perfectly lovely to him, all how are you, Antoine? and did you need a hand with the chemistry homework? and it’s easy to see why he’s labouring under the illusion he has a shot with her. But Jemma’s gaze doesn’t linger on him and she doesn’t giggle and she doesn’t blush or lean closer or do any of the things Trip is clearly yearning for.
That said, a deal is a deal. Daisy will help him out in any way she can, even if that’s only ensuring the inevitable rejection leaves him with at least a few shreds of dignity.
It’s not her fault she and Jemma get partnered in lab.
It’s not her fault that Jemma’s ridiculously easy to talk to and makes her laugh and is extremely supportive of her currently unattainable soccer aspirations. But, yeah, maybe it is little her fault that she stares when Jemma smiles and lets their hands brush when she moves a beaker or agrees to study with Jemma after school.
Bottom line, she can really see why Trip is so into her. She’s crazy beautiful, like she was hanging out in the sky with the other goddesses or whatever, and then thought she might go visit Earth for a bit. And she’s super smart, so smart Daisy eventually stops trying to keep up with her, and settles for focusing instead on the way her eyes light up when she talks about science-this or science-that, the way she frowns cutely when she’s explaining something particularly complicated, or how she clutches her textbook like it’s her firstborn.
She insists to Trip that she’s putting in a good word for him, and she is. She’s done the whole isn’t Trip totally awesome? bit but it probably loses impact when she bookends it by flirting with Jemma until her eyes are probably dripping hearts or something equally embarrassing. Anyway, newsflash, Daisy is an absolutely terrible friend, but does it make it a little less terrible of her if Jemma doesn’t seem all that into it? Like, there are moments where she’ll reach out and take Daisy’s hand briefly, or smile shyly at her when Daisy passes her stupid notes in class, but then all of a sudden, she’ll get this extremely confused look on her face, like she doesn’t understand what’s happening at all.
/ / /
“Is it working?” Trip asks, mid-bench press. “Do you think she’d go out with me yet?”
Daisy breathes through the immediate, visceral stab of panic she feels at the idea of Trip going anywhere with Jemma. Trip is totally awesome and would definitely treat Jemma right, not to mention, he’s helping Daisy train in return. Except… Well, except, when she’s with Jemma, or thinking about her (so, basically always), not getting to first string and never proving Ward wrong doesn’t seem like the absolute end of the world, not like it did at the start of semester.
She swallows. “Huh. Yeah. It’s all in progress, my man,” she says, and feels like only falling down a thousand flights of stairs could possibly even up her karmic balance after this.
/ / /
They’re outside Jemma’s dorm room and Daisy is hugging her goodbye. Then Jemma starts to pull back and all of a sudden her face is just inches away and she smells awesome and her sweater is soft under Daisy’s fingers, and it wouldn’t take much to close the gap and kiss her.
And god, does Daisy want to. More than she’s ever wanted anything.
Jemma’s eyes flick down, and just for a second, Daisy thinks it’s really going to happen, and her heart leaps wildly in her chest in a last-ditch effort to escape her ribs.
But then Jemma jerks away quickly, gaze falling to the floor, that confused expression back in full force. She stutters out a goodbye and disappears into the room she shares with Bobbie without looking back.
As Daisy’s walking to her own dorm, she tells herself it was for the better. And not just because of Trip. But because Jemma calls her Lance. Because Jemma thinks she’s a boy, and eventually the charade is going to have to end. Her brother will return from London, and everything will come crashing down. And when this is all over, Daisy wants to be able to keep Jemma, even if only as a friend.
/ / /
She can’t believe her weekend involves being stuck at the run-through of some stupid debutante thing her current foster mother is intent on her attending. Daisy would legitimately rather run across an endless field of Legos than sit through something like this, but she fears it’s suffer this or get shuffled on to the next family, and this is far from the worst placement she’s ever had. Her foster mother just likes the dresses, she thinks, which Daisy could really take or leave. Emphasis on the leave.
And then, suddenly, what’s looking to be a completely awful and boring day brightens so much Daisy practically needs sunglasses, because Jemma Simmons has just walked into the room. She looks about as excited as Daisy to be there, and there’s a beat where Daisy nearly waves her over on reflex, before remembering she’s Daisy, not Lance, and she and Jemma have never met.
Jemma finds her way over to her table anyway, smiling at her a little uncertainly. “I’m terribly sorry if this seems to come out of nowhere,” she says, wringing her hands, “but have we met? You look awfully familiar.”
Daisy feigns ignorance. “Oh, I don’t think so. But maybe you’ve met my brother, Lance? We’re twins. People get us mixed up all the time.”
Jemma brightens at the mention of Lance’s name. Damn. It’s the first time Daisy’s actually been jealous of herself. “Oh, yes! That must be it.”
She seems to relax a lot more after that, and the two of them fall into easy conversation. Well, easy for Jemma, maybe, but certainly not Daisy, who is trying to remember not to bring up any of the things she knows about Jemma, and act like they’re total strangers. Which, for the record – if Daisy could choose someone to meet again, and find out all the little things about them for the first time, and get that rush from looking up and seeing a new face and knowing they were gonna mean something to you… she’d pick Jemma. No contest.
“You remind me of him a lot,” Jemma says, her eyes dancing across Daisy’s face. She’s afraid, then, that Jemma’s figured her out somehow. Maybe she looks too in love with her for only having known her half an hour. “Like, a lot.”
“Haha, yeah,” Daisy laughs, awkwardly. “So, do you have an escort to this thing?” She’ll probably just end up taking Mack, but if Jemma’s free - she tells herself she’s asking for Trip but it’s not exactly true.
Jemma shrugs. “I’m bringing Fitz.”
“Fitz?”
Jemma grins. “He’s my best friend. We’ve known each other forever.” She pauses, gets a thoughtful look on her face. “I should introduce him to Lance. I think they’d get along.”
“Oh, right,” Daisy agrees, and fights down the disappointment.
/ / /
The Sisters would be extremely surprised to hear that Daisy has not only attended every single chemistry class this semester and completed all the homework, but she actually looks forward to going.
Jemma’s buried deep in the textbook when Daisy walks in the door, and she takes a moment to just stare, watch the way the sun falls across Jemma’s face and smile to herself like some kind of idiot.
It’s all lovely until she catches Trip watching her from the other side of the room, his brow cinched in thought. She realises how much she looks like a schoolgirl with a crush – which, yeah, she is, but still – and quickly kills the dopey expression as best she can.
“Hey, Jemma,” she greets, tapping on the page to get her attention, because sometimes when Jemma’s in Science Land it’s hard to get her back. Daisy’s not even sure what she’s doing in this class; she’s far too smart for all of them.
Jemma grins up at her, and it’s like being hit in the face with a baseball bat, but, like, in a good way. “Oh, Lance! Hello. Guess who I ran into on the weekend?”
Daisy smiles back. “My sister, Daisy? She mentioned you. Said she really liked hanging out with you.”
The tips of Jemma’s ears turn pink, but Daisy doesn’t think anything of it at the time.
/ / /
Trip leans against the doorway of their dorm, then against the wall, then drops down onto his bed awkwardly.
“Uh, Lance,” he coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I gotta talk with you. Guy to guy,” he says, and expressions like that still make her smirk a bit.
“Yeah, man, what’s up?”
Trip presses his hands into face for a second, and then turns and looks Daisy right in the eye. “Do you like Jemma?”
Daisy considers lying, denying it, but she’s already Number 1 Worst Friend of the Year, and she probably doesn’t need to push it. “Yeah,” she sighs. “I’m so sorry, Trip, I didn’t mean to, I just – she’s just…” she trails off. She thinks Trip gets it anyway.
Trip grimaces for a second and Daisy braces himself. Then he sighs. “Okay. Alright. It’s okay. I’m not mad.” A beat. “Well, I’m a little mad. You coulda just told me.”
Daisy throws herself down on her bed, bouncing a little against the mattress. “I definitely should’ve. And I’m sorry. You were helping me and I still… Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think she likes me, either.” As much as it aches to admit it, Daisy knows it’s true. Every time she starts thinking maybe, maybe she’s got shot… that puzzled look pops back up on Jemma’s face, and she puts a few extra inches of space between them.
Trip groans, reaching across the space between them to clap her on the shoulder. “Jemma’s never dated anyone. It’s not just us. Maybe she has a no-dating rule?”
“Surely we’d have heard about that?”
They sit in silence and mutual misery for a moment before Trip says, “I’ll still help you get on first string, by the way. Just – just so you know. I’m not gonna quit on you.”
“Thanks, Trip,” Daisy sighs into her pillow, and tries to think of any way she could possibly make it up to him.
/ / /
They carry on like that for the next few weeks. Daisy makes first string, and starts fantasising about rubbing her prowess in Grant “girls will never be as good” Ward’s face. Trip starts to get over Jemma, if the way he becomes less bumbling around her is any indication. Daisy, unfortunately, only gets worse. Her brain is all Jemma-this and Jemma-that, no matter how many times she tries to tell it that it’s never gonna happen. Maybe she’s taken a few too many soccer balls to the head.
/ / /
Jemma introduces her – Lance-her, not Daisy-her – to Fitz, just like she said she would. He’s cool and funny and interesting, and clearly all about Jemma, but keeps watching her with this appraising expression on his face, like he’s trying to figure something out about her.
/ / /
And then one day Daisy just forgets herself, forgets everything she’s been telling herself this whole semester. They’re both huddled over the same textbook in some quiet corner in the library, and Jemma looks so gorgeous, and her eyes are on fire, how they get when Jemma is enticed with the possibility of new knowledge. And Daisy just… leans forward and kisses her.
It lasts a moment. A perfect moment. Daisy’s heart fills and bursts and makes itself over again. For just a second there, right at the end, she’s sure Jemma kisses her back.
But then Jemma’s pulling away, lurching to her feet, backing up. “I’m so sorry, Lance,” she whispers, genuinely upset. “I like you, so much it confuses me, but it could never be like you’d want with us. I’m – I’m sorry.” And then she’s vanishing between the shelves, dashing out of the library so quickly that Daisy cannot catch up and ask her exactly what she means.
/ / /
It all falls apart after that. Daisy, still frustrated and upset over the Jemma Incident, goes over and crashes at Mack’s place. Who, of course, has not set an alarm for game time tomorrow. And to cap it off, Lance arrives during the night, crashing in the room she usually shares with Trip.
Somehow, her can’t-play-for-shit brother ends up running down the field while she’s stuck in the crowd. She did not go through all this only for Lance to lose them to Ward in the eleventh hour.
Finally, she manages to get him off the pitch, but only after Headmaster Garrett tries to pull some weird gender-reveal crap that should really get him impeached, or whatever it is when you get rid of a principal for being creepy and heteronormative. Anyway, it fails spectacularly. At least Lance’s inconvenient arrival has been good for something.
Then she’s scoring point after point against Ward, the rush of it only dampened by the swirling in her stomach from whatever went down with her and Jemma. She wonders, if she looked up, would Jemma still be in the crowd, cheering her on? She thinks so. That’s the kind of person Jemma is. But, Daisy can’t bring herself to look, just in case.
/ / /
Flashing the headmaster does not make Mack’s other list, the Top 10 Best Daisy Johnson Ideas of All Time list, but it serves its purpose.
/ / /
After the game, Daisy barely gives herself a minute to flip Ward off before she’s hurrying away from her teammates, determined to find Jemma. The churning of the thrilled crowd makes it impossible to find anyone, except Lance, who runs out with a hug, lifting her off the ground and whirling her around, pumped from second-hand glory.
In the end, Daisy just waits and then heads to Jemma’s dorm. Bobbie’s still in there with her, and shoots Daisy a severe look when she enters.
“I’m going to go hit on your brother,” she informs Daisy frankly as she leaves the room.
“He’s an idiot,” Daisy warns her.
Bobbie shrugs. “That’s fine.”
And then she’s alone with Jemma, which is all she’s ever wanted, but is somewhat dampened by the fact that Jemma knows she’s been lying to her about who she is for weeks.
There’s a moment of silence before Jemma rounds on her, arms crossed, fury in her eyes, and yeah, Daisy actually winces a little in fear. Jemma reaches out and shoves her, although she barely musters enough force to make Daisy take a single step back.
“You!” she hisses.
“Me,” Daisy agrees. “Daisy. Not Lance. I’m sorry about that, Jems, I really -”
“Sorry?” Jemma nearly shrieks, and wow, Daisy did not know her voice could go that high. Also, she’s advancing, in a threatening enough way that Daisy finds herself stumbling backwards on instinct until she hits the solid wall behind her. “You’re sorry? Do you know how confusing for me this has been? You could have just told me, I would’ve kept your secret. I would’ve helped you, Daisy.”
Daisy tilts her head, trying to keep the conversation straight in her head while also acutely, painfully aware of how close Jemma is standing. There’s a few flecks of paint on her face that would confirm to Daisy that she was at the game, even if the anger and hurt hadn’t already go that across loud and clear. “Confused?” Daisy asks dumbly.
Jemma rolls her eyes. “Yes, confused! I’m gay, Daisy. And I’ve always known that, and I was always fine with it. Fitz knows, Bobbie knows. And so you can imagine that it was a bit of a surprise for me when this cute guy showed up in science class and started making me feel all – all fluttery, and stupid, and -”
Daisy grins, too wide for her face. “I make you feel fluttery?”
Jemma swats her shoulder again. “Not the point. I did not appreciate the identity crisis, Daisy. I know I don’t like boys. Not like that. But you – I liked you, and I liked kissing you.”
She feels the grin slide off her face. “Liked? Past tense?”
Jemma huffs out a breath, studying her like a particularly frustrating specimen for a moment. Then she groans. “Present tense, you idiot.”
“I’ll never lie to you again,” Daisy promises.
And then Jemma kisses her, and it feels a hundred thousand times better than beating Ward at soccer.
The next time she manages to get her brain into gear enough to form an actual, coherent thought, Daisy decides that this is their first kiss. Because it’s the first one between Jemma and Daisy, not Jemma and Fake Lance. And it’s awesome.
/ / /
Daisy ends up going as Jemma’s date to the debutante ball. At first, she’s worried about what her new foster mother might think, whether this will be what gets her kicked out, but her foster mother just looks thrilled.
“Two dresses?” she sighs dreamily. “How wonderful.”
It is wonderful, but not because of the dresses.
/ / /
“I was wrong,” Mack says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. He’s come as her look out to make sure nobody catches her trying to get a peek of Jemma before it all starts. Daisy knows it’s supposedly bad luck, but she literally can’t wait, and besides, curses could never touch them.
“Wrong about what?” Daisy asks, only half listening as she inches the door open.
“When we were kids. I said going in Lance’s place was one of your stupider plans,” he reminds her, casting a sweeping glance down the corridor. “I was wrong.”
“Yeah,” Daisy breathes out, her eye pressed to the gap, catching a quick glimpse of Jemma, who looks exactly as knockout beautiful as Daisy knew she would. Really, this peek was the only logical course of action – which, she learned from Jemma, is the only avenue worth pursuing. Otherwise she’d probably pass out when she saw her, and seeing as she’ll be in front of basically everyone they know, that’d be super embarrassing. “It wasn’t stupid. It was brilliant.”