Thanks. For these, I mean. For handing them to me?

( was there ever a moment in skye's life where she thought she'd be on a first name basis with steve rogers? nope. definitely not. but now that it's happening, the only thing in her brain is simply low-pitched screaming, the kind of white noise that blurs out any possibility of rational speech.

so, naturally, she takes the weights. why not, right? they're heavy, but not so heavy that she can't manage a stiff curl of one arm followed by the other. it's just enough that she knows her reps are likely to be limited to a significantly lower number. )

... Steve. Okay. ( there's a hesitation in her tone that betrays just how uncertainly skye is taking this whole first name basis concept. ) I'm Skye.

( oh, what the hell. who said taking things slow was any fun? )

Sorry, I know this is, like, super weird ... but, um. Does the concept of a flying red Corvette mean anything to you?

( it's the first thing that comes to mind when she thinks of coulson that someone else might know too. )