[Jemma snorts out a laugh at that. It's sort of funny by now, isn't it? Those misconceptions.] That's beautiful. I've got one for my younger self, too, even before... [That hellish bit of memory sharing that canonized her younger self. The journal is a bit older than that.] That one's a bit more invasive, it's scoliotic. My writer collects details.

[She tilts her head. That's not emotional, exactly, but it's still unusual enough that she has to take a moment to feel flattered.]

I wish that too. I've always valued our relationship, no matter what it is. I know I'm not the most... something. [She shrugs uncomfortably. What she means is: someone like Coulson or Daisy or even Yo-Yo, someone who's on Melinda's level, someone who's therefore important. She can't say that because she doesn't want to seem jealous (she's not) or insecure (she is) so she doesn't.] But I still wish.

[Is some of this also the writer's intense aggravation about canon's priorities re: everyone's relationships? Yes indeed. At this point she'll be lucky to imagine a future that even contains the people who actually respect or deserve her. Not that Jemma herself is fully able to see it that way.]