My S.O. – Flick Away, Baby
The few times Grant Ward sees Skye as more than a hacktivist – his melodious trainee, a friend, and once, even called his.
Training Session
"Are you seriously going to rub it in my face every time we train?" Skye cried, picking up the magazine from the table's surface.
"Skye, it'll reflect badly on me if you keep flunking Gunnery," Ward protested but thoughtfully gauged her reaction. Seeing as she kept a blank face, he continued, "It's my job as your S.O…"
"That's all you ever say, Ward!" she yelled, tears forming on the corners of her eyes. She hated how he didn't know the sting of letting him down. There was always that feeling of kicking-a-puppy whenever she saw Ward get disappointed. "You keep nagging about me being such a klutz and that I don't listen to you but really, I do! I just think it takes more than a month to be trained to use a gun, you know?" she trailed, her tone falling.
At that one moment, Ward felt guilty for giving her the cold shoulder. At the back of his head, he even thought his chest tightened a bit after seeing Skye tear up.
He shook his head instinctively, "I'm sorry you feel that way. For what it's worth, I'm just being professional."
"Yeah, you're my S.O. I get it," she put on a smile, as if shrugging of the fact that she actually cried over letting Ward down. How bizarre, she thought.
For some time, the awkward silence in the firing range seemed deafening to Ward, so he decided to break it.
"I'll make you a deal. You can flick my ear whenever I use the word 'S.O.' or any phrase that says S.O," he said, and in hopes of turning her smile into a real one, he formed a soft smile on his lips and put a thumb up. He knew he was completely out of character but it felt so odd to him seeing Skye putting on a fake beam.
She grinned wider, her eyes lighting up. "Deal," and with that, she plucked him on the ear twice and left like a boss.
Sunday Sports
Fitz chimed, flipping over to the sports channel.
"Today is the day you lose," he whispered, thinking he was barely audible.
"You're one enthusiastic sports geek, aren't you, huh?" Skye said in between chuckles.
Ward and Simmons entered the TV room, bringing snacks, both of them hoping to see a movie playing instead of a basketball game.
"So what's this? Who's that tall guy in the middle there?" Simmons asked, obviously just warming up enough to snag the remote from her friend.
"Shaq," Fitz replied sparingly, already eating the chips that Simmons had at hand.
Ward piqued his brain, "Shaq..uille O'Neal, right?"
"There it is, honey," Skye said randomly, stood up, and walked to Ward. Flick.
Fitz was torn from the game while Simmons stared in surprise as Ward cupped his right ear that ached in Skye's heavy touch.
"Shaquille O'Neal. S.O. Right," he hardly finished when two more sharp taps were felt on his left ear.
"Sorry, you made the deal!" Skye raised her arms in false surrender, grinning.
Simmons had a confused expression on her face and finally teased, "I don't mind not getting the inside joke but quote 'There it is, honey'? Now where'd that come from?"
Field Work
"Want a pretzel?" Ward asked Skye right after he spotted a pretzel stand. It was 9 PM and he would have been lucky to find any open stands at that time.
"No thanks, I'm more concerned about getting to a hotel," Skye answered calmly despite her growing agitation. It's been a long day and she had been wearing the same body fitting dress for twelve hours. No bathroom breaks whatsoever. Undercover stuff beat her.
She was distracted from her thoughts when she saw Ward walk back empty-handed.
"They're all sold out," he exclaimed, the 'aww factor' evident in his body language.
She gazed at him for a moment and then smiled. Flick.
"Really? Are you that tired, Ward?" she took his hand and paced with him along the sidewalk.
Lunch Break… ahem… date
"You? Cuisine? Psh. I bet Coulson does better," Skye said in mockery.
"I didn't say that. I clearly said that I killed the grill back in high school," Ward answered with pride, "I was the king of steak outs, baby."
He was too late when he realized that he had yet again blurted out a word phrase that contained the initials SO.
Flick.
"Also, baby?" Skye raised an eyebrow and smirked at him, taunting. I could get used to these nickname thingies.
Disturbing Fitzsimmons
"Berlin Philharmonic. Best orchestra ever," Simmons highlighted, urging Fitz to tell her his opinions.
"Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam. There's nothing topping that," Fitz replied, his accent seeming thicker to Skye more than ever now that he was talking about orchestras.
How very fun, she mulled over.
Right on cue, Ward marched into the laboratory to call them for Coulson's briefing.
"Meeting in five," he said, something catching his gaze. A very bored Skye was sitting down, elbows propped on the lab desk, and eyes practically shut.
He walked towards her and lightly pounded on the table. "Sleeping during work hours, I see?"
"Jesus Christ," Skye muttered under her breath.
"Why can't you be more passionate about.." Ward paused to ask Fitz what they've been talking about before he entered the room. Getting an answer, he repeated his half finished question. "What can't you be more passionate about symphony orchestras, hmm, Skye?"
"What did you just say?"
" . ."
Flick.
"Symphony orchestras, stupid," she stood and smiled, feeling a lot less drowsy.
The One Night
Late night training had just finished, and Skye was just starting to uncoil her wrist wraps when Ward revoked the dismissal.
"Not ten more minutes. Please?" Skye begged, unconsciously batting her lashes at him.
He felt a twinge of panic, considering the way he constructed the question he wanted to ask her.
"Can I be your S.O?" he uttered in a swift motion.
"You know I have to flick you for that, right?" she asked, finding what he said such a weirdly funny statement.
Everything came back to him. The way she crinkles her nose when she thinks that something's wrong, that time she beat him in Battleship, her warm damaged self, her adorable laugh, her taunting words, the way she involuntarily leads him on… every other small thing she doesn't notice she's been doing.
He repeated his words, this time more clearly. "Can I be your S.O?"
"What?" she asked, wishing he would rush into it.
He inched closer, and the proximity began overwhelming her.
"Skye," she shuddered at the sound of him calling her name, "Can I be your S.O?"
"You.. uhm," she stumbled on her own words, trying to find space between them, only to see so little. "You already are my S.O, Ward."
She absolutely didn't know where he was going with this.
Ward leaned in, and for a second she thought she was in a dumb romantic movie, where the guy kisses the girl and all that, but he passed her lips and whispered something into her ear.
"Can I be your significant other?"
Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't believe she didn't grasp what he's been doing.
Finally, she closed the small space between them - burrowed her face into his chest and later on pulled his head lower for her turn to whisper.
"You already are my S.O, Ward."
He owed her three flicks. She gave him three kisses.