[ There's enough. Her voice twangs, metallic, like a glitch, but it couldn't possibly be more familiar. May's voice is as familiar to Skye as a mother's might be to their child. That, combined with her words—a face like this—is enough to spark the memory.

The skirmish hadn't lasted long; Agent 33 was (is) the better combatant. Especially given that Skye's been sedentary for two months now, trapped in this hotel and miserably trying not to aggravate any negative emotions that might set her off. ]

No. I guess you're right; I wouldn't. [ She takes a drink from her orange juice, smiling through her gulp before quipping, ] But when we were in Vancouver, that's not what your face looked like. Well. Part of it was.