A/N: Let's pretend that Ward isn't a HYRDA soldier. Let's pretend that he isn't a sociopath and that he's a nice agent.

On that note, here's a happy little oneshot. I hope you like it, I don't own AoS, and this is un-betad. Let me know what you think.

"Hey Ward?" Skye asked, bounding down the stairs and into the Bus's common area. "I have a question."

Ward, from his spot on the couch, looked up at her from his book and raised an eyebrow in a silent answer. "Yes?" he asked.

"Boxers or briefs?"

Ward, the super Level Seven agent with the mind of an analyst, who was trained to think about every conversation from a tactical approach, who was supposed to be able to handle anything, choked. All he could answer in reply, was a croaking "What?"

Skye giggled, enjoying his flustered appearance. "I said, 'boxers or—"

"I know what you said," Ward replied. "How about you find out?"

"Oh, stop," Skye mocked. "You'll make me untidy."

"Let's have dinner tonight," Ward suggested casually, though his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

Now it was Skye's turn to be flustered. "What?"

Ward shut his book, putting it down. "Skye, will you have dinner with me tonight?"

"Um…" she began, searching for words. "I, uh…"

Now Ward was really nervous. Even more nervous than when that mission in Argentina went sour and his contact turned out to be a double agent that tried to kill him. Even more nervous than that time when he had been chained to a chair for days on end with no food or water in Egypt. Even more nervous than that time—

"Yes."

"What?" Ward questioned, wanting to be sure of her answer.

"I said 'yes.'"

Regaining his cool, Ward's lips turned upwards. "Great. Meet me back here at seven, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. "Okay."

"Good." He placed a hand on her shoulder as he walked out.

"What?" she asked to the supposedly empty room.

"Pardon me?" Coulson asked, strolling in.

"Uh…nothing. Never mind." She forced a laugh and dashed out, leaving a perplexed Coulson behind.

"I told you it would work!" Simmons exclaimed.

"This is fantastic," Fitz agreed.

"We should celebrate," she suggested. He grinned.

"I'll get the popcorn."

"I'll get the movie!"

They headed in opposite directions, and even though they did, they somehow managed to stick together, to always find their way back.

"I'm freaking out!" Skye gasped. About five minutes ago, she had interrupted FitzSimmons and their movie, and while the couple had been slightly disappointed, they helped her anyways.

"It'll be fine," Jemma soothed.

"But what if it won't?" Skye questioned, getting up and pacing. It had become a habit, and it seemed like the only way to help her adjust to the large space was to cover all of it. "I have to go tell him no."

"NO!" the scientists yelled in unison, scaring the crap out of the computer specialist.

"Not after everything we did," Fitz stated. Skye stopped.

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I, uh," Fitz squeaked. "I, well, we just…"

"We?" Skye turned to Jemma. "Is this true?"

"We were trying to help," she said in an attempt at consolation.

"What did you do?" Skye's steps stopped and she sat down on the bed.

"Well, it started a little while ago. You were hanging out with Jems," Fitz began. "You guys were watching that movie…the one with all the dancing?"

"Yeah?" Skye said, thinking back to the time that she and Jemma danced along to the movie. And then copied the ballroom scene. And the strip club part. "And…?"

"Well, I found Ward looking at the surveillance camera in the control room, he was watching you both dance. Well, you, mostly. But Jemma was with you."

"I know," Skye hissed. "I was there." With a sigh, she continued. "And then what did you do?"

"Well, he saw me watching him watching you, and then he freaked out. I told him that he had to ask you out or I would tell you."

"And then…" she coaxed.

"Well, he said that he would just tell you it was supervision. That he was making sure you were okay."

"So why did he ask me?"

"We had a deal," Fitz stated meekly. "I can't tell you the other end of it, though."

"Wait," Skye interrupted. "He just asked me so that you would do something?"

"No! It wasn't like that. He wanted to ask you. He was just trying to motivate me."

"What did he want you to do, Fitz?"

The engineer blushed, looked at Simmons for a split second before averting his eyes. "I can't say."

Skye narrowed her eyes. "Fitz, I swear, if you don't tell me what he wanted you to do, I will poison your dinner."

"I can't," the Scot answered.

"Just tell her, Fitz," Simmons jabbed. "You didn't tell me about the deal either."

Fitz huffed, but mumbled something. "Mwrhadtrasrkouwrt Simmons."

"What?" Simmons probed. "Speak up, Fitz."

"No," Skye interjected. "Jemma, can I talk to Fitz alone?"

The biochemist looked like she had been slapped, but she left anyways. "Fine." She walked away briskly, shutting the door behind her.

"Talk," Skye demanded.

"I had to ask Jemma to dinner."

"What?" Skye exclaimed excitedly. "So did you?"

"No," Fitz murmured.

"When will you?" she badgered.

"Never."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to make things in the lab awkward."

Skye sighed. "Fitz, things won't be awkward if you ask her. Things will be awkward if you don't ask her."

"What? That doesn't even make sense."

"It makes perfect sense. Tell me about tension."

"It's when multiple particles—"

"Stop right there. Let me clarify. Sexual tension," she explained, nodding and waiting for him to process it. He didn't.

"What?"

"The whole Bus knows, Fitz. You're in a state of denial," she informed him.

Fitz's eyes widened. "What? Even Coulson?"

"Yup. Even Coulson."

"So why hasn't he said anything?"

"Why would he?"

"Isn't it against protocol?"

Skye snorted. "Protocol shouldn't apply if you love someone."

"But it does," Fitz pointed out. He was utterly dumbfounded.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Skye asked.

"We could both get fired."

"So? At least you'll be together."

"Nope. S.H.I.E.L.D. could relocate us to different places around the world and threaten to kill us if we attempt to meet."

With a frown, Skye put her head in her hands. "This place sucks." Then, she sat back up. "Wait. Are you trying to get Ward and I fired?"

"Excuse me?"

"You play matchmaker, you tell me I could lose my job. Why are you trying to get us together if it would ruin our lives."

"Oh. Huh," Fitz said sheepishly. "Oops?"

"You little piece of—"

"Skye, you ready?" someone asked from outside. Skye's eyes widened and she looked down at her huge white tee-shirt and old jeans.

"Just a second, Ward!" She scrambled to the bureau and pulled out fresh clothes before turning to Fitz. "Close your eyes," she whispered. He complied and she changed in record time. "Open them now." She held out two pair of shoes—wedges and flats. "Which one?"

He pointed to the flats. "Have fun."

She gave him a pointed look. "Go ask Jemma out already." With that, she opened the door, closing it behind her and facing Ward. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hi," he replied. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she answered. "Let's go."

They left, and once Fitz had waited for a long time, he stepped out of Skye's bunk, just as Coulson walked by. "Fitz?"

He froze, dead in his tracks. "Uh, yes sir?"

"Why were you in Skye's bunk?"

"I…uh…I thought it was mine."

"Fitz, your bunk is on the other side of the plane."

"Well, then, I was…cleaning it for her."

"I thought Skye was going out with Ward," Coulson asked, utterly lost.

"What? No! She is! She is! I was…uh…helping her with her outfit."

"Okay, Fitz. I'm leaving now. Don't try anything funny."

"I won't, sir."

End.

A/N: Please review. It would mean the world to me. Also, remember. It's unbetad. If there's a mistake, let me know.