It was one of the few times that they didn't have to take up fake names for an op. Grant was glad for it too. Simmons was nervous as it was already. She didn't need the extra pressure of under cover, and well, Grant's job would be easier with out her rambling and shouting of a fake identity's life. He hoped for it to go seamlessly. For her sake. It was her name, after all, that was getting them into the gala in the first place. It was her credentials from two PhD's and respected research that got her and a guest tickets to The New Innovations Tech and Science 25th Annual Gala.
He also wished that Shield business didn't need to be brought into the evening, but their whole purpose of being there was to keep an eye on a few key people who were possibly being funded by Quinn. Quinn himself wouldn't be there, but he did have associates who had been making deals in his absence.
"Oh, Ward, your hopeless." Jemma sighed.
"Excuse me?"
"Your bow tie. Who taught you to tie it? You did a horrible job. I know we don't have to act like someone else tonight, but would it kill you to act like someone who cares about their general appearance?"
"Nervous?" He asked slowly as she concentrated on fixing his bow tie. She made the most adorable faces when she concentrated, this tip her tongue was just poking out between her lips.
She stepped back before answering to admire her handiwork. He hadn't had a good look of her before. Simmons looked beautiful. She generally did, but this was something else. It was a bright red gown that accented features that weren't always noticeable.
"A bit." She nodded.
"You look beautiful. I-I mean it's alright to be nervous."
Jemma blushed. "Thank you. And you clean up quite well Agent Ward."
He nodded slightly in thanks. "I'm serious, Simmons. It's alright to be nervous. I know lately on missions we haven't had the best of luck, but if anything goes wrong, I'll catch you if you fall. Do you understand."
"Yes."
Grant didn't just say it to ease her frazzled nerves. He meant. The possibility of something happening was very slim, but as he had said: they didn't have the best of luck.
The evening had started out fine. Better than fine, Simmons was enjoying herself. And he was too, but it was mainly because her bright smile hadn't dulled since their arrival. What ever nervousness she had proclaimed to wasn't very evident in the way she beamed at everyone and engaged in conversation that went way over his head. Grant usually found annoyance when things went over his head when her and Fitz engaged in conversation, but it was alright this time. He didn't need to know the dumb downed version tonight. And, honestly, it was nice to take a break from it all.
It was short lived.
"I'm quite surprised, Agent Ward. Your lab rat cleans up quite well." It was Quinn's more well known associate, Victor Samson.
Ward hadn't noticed him earlier, something he cursed himself for now, and didn't except him to even show up to event. It was a more of a hope. A quick sweep of the room located Simmons in one of the corners of the room well surrounded by guests that not even Samson would risk harming. But that didn't mean he was alone in this. Most likely he had guards scattered across the room. Ward had let himself get to distracted by the chemist's happiness. A rookie mistake.
"Now, were you just here to spy on me or on the other bright minds?"
'Shield business is of no concern to you, but it was the first. Just in case you were wondering." He glanced back at Simmons. Safe.
"You know, she really is pretty. Such a shame a pretty face is wasted on Shield. Anything could happen to her. This is a wide open space, and you've left her on her own."
Ward clenched his teeth. Samson was playing him. He wouldn't touch Simmons in a place like this, but there was a slight fear in Ward's stomach. Samson was a figure head trying to bait him. Threatening Simmons was the easiest way to get a rise from himself, but there was a threat that she didn't need to be around. He needed May or Coulson's direction, but the coms weren't on. Not for a place like this. They were watching, but contact was little. After a deep breath he knew what to do. Samson wouldn't just taunt him like that if Simmons wasn't actually in danger. He'd only taunt if he knew that she would be in direct danger; something that she might not be able to walk away from. Leaving now meant being exposed for a short amount of time, though, it also meant a locked a room with possible back up later.
He didn't give Samson a look back. Instead, he approached the small group Simmons a had joined with a clam face. Ward didn't want to worry her. She had had enough of that lately.
"Simmons, fun's over." Ward said as gently as he could with a hand around her forearm to guide her away if nesscary.
"Huh?" She glanced up at him confusion spreading across her face. "But they were just explaining the importance of thermal dynamics on the-"
"I know.: He said cutting her off. "But we have to cut this short."
Ward felt personally responsible for her dimming smile. She didn't protest any more, simply let him wrap an arm around her as he walked her out the of the main hallway into the stair well. It was closer than the elevator with a better vantage point.
"I'm sorry." He sighed after the fist flight up. She had her shoes in her hands now. Ward didn't even know how she walked in those things the first place.
"It's alright, you don't con-Watch out!" She screeched.
He just narrowly avoided his skin meeting the knife. A knee to the solar plexus sent the first guy to the ground, but there was still another to be dealt with. And he seemed to be better armed too.
'Simmons! Out of the way! Wall now!" He shouted before giving the other his complete attention. It was hard to keep an eye on Simmons while trying to effectively disarm the man. It was even harder when in a strangle hold.
He struggled for breath and a move that would at the very least get him more breath.
"Ward! Watch out for the other!"
Great. If it wasn't one thing it was another. He dug his fingers in tight till he could breathe again. It was simple movement, ones his hand were used too, that snapped his neck. His eyes fell on the gun. And with out wasting another moment, he reached for it. It was stopped short by a kick in the temple that sent his head reeling. Apparently, Simmons was right. The first guy had recovered enough to fight back.
"Simmons! Get the gun!"
Ward didn't expect her to even attempt such a stupid thing. But any help would be help. He cursed himself for inviting her into the danger. It was his fault, again. The kick packed more power than he had expected.
He saw it from the corner of his eye and what was obscured from the other's limb. She wrestled the gun from his grasp and slid it across to the opposite end of the small room. It would have helped if the gun was in his possession. Still, the other was distracted long enough for Ward to take the upper hand.
When he was finished, Simmons had backed herself up into the corner. "Simmons." He knelt down in front of her, assessing for damage. A gash on her forehead was the worst injury she had sustained. "Come on. Up." With a gentle hold on her hands, he pulled her up. "I'm going to quickly hide the bodies, bring you up to the room, and then come down and do it the proper way. Alright?"
A quick nod, and a few minutes later he was sliding the key into the lock. A sweep of the room later, and Ward was ready to make sure the bodies were properly squared away. Their accidental discovery would smother him in paper work. He wanted to stay and make sure Simmons was alright. She had been quiet ever since. Ward supposed it was to be expected. Besides, he had left her with orders to contact May and had left the gun with her. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. More than that, he wanted back to the relative safety of the Bus. Only that was a predictable move, they'd spend the night here till it was absolutely safe for her to be moved.
The shower was on when he made back to their room. He'd give her some space for now. After a quick call with Coulson to confirm the situation and plan, Ward decided on cleaning himself up. Only first a drink, he needed one after that. It could have been worse, and the lack of men was surprising. Samson had either doubted his abilities or had gotten too cocky.
Grant knew something was off when he saw the wine glass shattered on the floor with the contents spilling.
"Simmons?"
The shower was still running. He knocked on the door. Silence. "Are you decent? Alright." He continued. "I'm coming in."
She was decent in the fact that she was clothed. Still in the bright red gown. Although, Simmons was no where close to okay knees tucked to her chest as she sat under the shower. How long had she been sitting there?
"You'll get a cold." He said with a teasing voice that she'd use with him if the tables were turned. Her eyes didn't leave the floor. With out waiting for her to react, Grant let himself into the shower stall and slid down so he was sitting with her.
"I'm sorry." He began. "I shouldn't have asked that of you. It was wrong. Every one's always asking impossible things from you, Simmons. I hate it. Half of it shouldn't even be thought of as your responsibility. And I think I added to that. It was my job to keep an eye out on you. It's my mistake. I'm sorry, Simmons. I slipped up."
"I can feel it."
"What?"
"The look on his face before he died. It's like it dried on my hands and I can't get it off. It's like that look is burned into my mind forever."
"I'm sorry." He repeated, taking her hands and pressing his lips to them. "I promised to catch you if you fall, and that back there shouldn't have happened."
"I wasn't falling, Ward."
"No, not physically-"
"But mentally." She finished for him.
"Your cold. And you need sleep. Let me help you."
And she did. He helped her out of the shower, and into something dry. Ward cleaned up the gash on her forehead with the gentlest hands he could manage. Led her to bed, and bid her good night. Though, he doubted she'd sleep well. She rarely did any way. Simmons tried to hide the fact behind late night projects, but he knew the truth.
He didn't protest when an hour later, the bed dipped besides him. When she curled up by his side and tired to sleep. Grant didn't offer her any helpful words. He knew how it felt to want company, but to not want to speak or acknowledge one another.
This was him trying to catch her.