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A/N: While binge watching AoS, I started creating this off-screen subplot where Ward and Skye have been hooking up for the whole time to make everything else so much more interesting. Canon but not canon, lots of spoilers, and unapologetic Ward/Skye-shipping – it isn't M yet, but it will get there pretty quickly.
Spoilers: Set between "The Asset" and "Eye Spy".
It is The Pink Dress Dream again. He's had it every night for the last four - ever since that mission to Malta left them all a little shaken - and tonight is no different. She came to him in sleep, that dress hugging her in all the right places, undressed him, and finished him right then and there. There is always slight variation, the time and place are different, but the one thing that never changes is she always remains clothed. Her body is a beautiful mystery, even in his dreams, that leaves him waking hard and wanting.
Sometimes he rolls back over and tries to sleep. Sometimes, after a particularly vivid dream, he self-completes to take the edge off. Sometimes, but not tonight. Tonight it is just too much. Tonight he wakes, covered in sweat, and he knows he will not sleep any more no matter how hard he tries.
He pulls on sweatpants and a tee shirt and pads down to the training gym. He needs to work out his frustration by assaulting a punching bag. His mind is always calmer when his body works. When he arrives in the gym hanger, however, he finds he is not alone.
Skye lies in the middle of the mats on her back, her cell phone held above her face, the light of the screen illuminating her as her thumbs work furiously across her keyboard. His mind takes quick stock of her appearance: sweats, cami, hair a mess at the top of her head, glasses, unarmed… it is instant, accurate, and he hates how many details he noticed about her.
He is going to turn around and pad back up the stairs unannounced. He is going to raid Colson's bar, and pour himself a drink. He is going to play sudoku in one of those dumb travel books until his head hurts. He is going to do anything but stay down in that hanger. That is until he hears her voice.
"You don't have to sulk over in the shadows. This place is big enough to share."
She is looking at him now, but he hadn't noticed her turn her head. He hadn't known she could see him in the dim safety lights, but apparently she can.
He stalls.
"No. It's all right. I just - I have something I have to do."
She snorts.
"Yeah right. At three in the morning? Even May is sleeping."
The military trained stiffness in his shoulders keeps him from shrugging.
"Seems like you have something to keep you occupied." His voice is still deep with sleep.
"Candy Crush." She holds up her phone to show him, but it is just a blur at this distance. "Level fifty-two is a bitch."
He doesn't smile. He isn't sure if he is supposed to.
"I will have to take your word for that."
She rolls her eyes.
"Right. You probably have much more important things to do with your time, like not sleep." She rolls back to how she was when he found her.
He can leave now. He knows that. She had given him a chance to interact and he had responded the way he should, but not the way she wanted, so he was dismissed. He should leave, but he doesn't.
Bare feet make a silent trail across the cushioned floor. He sits next to her, close - but not too close, and she swivels her head to look at him as he unfolds long legs. He focuses on the darkness in front of him because he cannot trust himself not to check and see if she is wearing a bra or not.
"What? You have to supervise this too? I swear I'm not doing anything hacker-y. Just trying to unwind." She tosses the device over onto his lap.
It almost startles him - almost - but it is just so Skye that he isn't surprised. She plays hardball just for the hell of it, daring him to prove her wrong just to make the point that he is incapable of doing so. He can't blame her for pushing. He hasn't given her a lot of reasons to feel warm and fuzzy about their co-existence, but he doesn't know what to do with the object resting against his thighs. The screen was too bright, the content too strange, and when he picks it up the weight and shape of it feel odd in his hands.
He flicks it back over to her. It lands on her stomach.
"I believe you." He curls his legs up and wraps his arms around his knees.
She lets out a sharp breath and grabs the phone off of her abdomen.
"That's a first."
Maybe it is. He isn't sure of the exact moment he went from barely tolerating her presence to accepting that she isn't all bad. He tells himself it doesn't have anything to do with that pink dress, but it probably does.
He wishes he had a comeback, some quip like she always had sitting on the tip of her tongue, but he doesn't. Hell, he doesn't even know why he is sitting next to her, in the dark, alone in the first place.
"Hey - you're all Mister Tactical, right?" She is talking again.
"What?"
"Mister Tactical - strategy - you know. Stuff like that."
"You mean have I been trained to assess situations and factor out all of the outcomes? Yes." He has figured out all of the potential outcomes for this situation, too, and he knows he needs to get out of here. Quick.
"Then maybe you can help. I've been stuck on this level for like two days."
Before he can object, she is upright and scooching closer to him. His defenses rocket up around him and she notices the flinch of his tightening muscles on her approach.
"Hey. Easy there, Robocop. I come in peace." And before he can even attempt a comeback - she dives into explaining the intricacies of a game he has no interest in except for the fact that it gives him an excuse to watch her mouth.
When she shoves her phone under his nose, he is still at a loss.
"What am I supposed to do exactly?" The bright colors on the screen are blinding.
"Weren't you listening at all?" Skye sighs and moves so she is pressed against his side. "Line 'em up, move 'em out, and watch out for the chocolate."
He can smell her shampoo, the same kind Simmons uses, and even though it is not a new smell it is surprising. He can also feel her warmth seeping in against his arm. Human contact, other than that mission related, is rare in his life and he felt himself reacting. He shouldn't be reacting. He is trained not to react.
"I'm sorry. I am not the right guy for this." He scoots to the side and holds her phone out in one hand.
"You haven't even tried -"
"Look Skye, this isn't for me."
"Geez. You don't have to bite my head off." She grabs her phone. "Remind me to never help you relax ever again."
She won't need to remind him. This won't happen again. He can't let it.
He never should have been down here in the first place.
He stands, quick and silent, and starts towards the stairs. He hears her follow, but he doesn't stop.
"Ward!" She says, but he keeps going. "Come on, Ward. I didn't mean it."
He hears her pick up her pace, senses her move to grab his forearm on the railing of the stairs, and he needs to keep going. He needs to keep going, but the second her fingers grip his skin he freezes.
"What's wrong with you?" She asks, and there is only one way to answer.
He has her back pressed against the frigid airplane wall in less than a second. His callused hands slide up her arms, to her shoulders, to her neck, to hold her face because this is surprising and he doesn't want her to turn away. In the glow of the emergency lights he sees her jaw work to form a question, but he has better uses for her mouth.
He kisses her and her warmth makes him wonder if he had been cold. She doesn't fight, doesn't stiffen away from the firm pressure of his mouth, but she doesn't respond either. Three seconds and he pulls back a fraction of an inch, heart hammering because he is Mister Tactical and he isn't quite sure where to go from here.
He doesn't like that feeling.
He can hear her breathing, even but shallow, and he would give anything to hear her thoughts.
She edges closer, it is a matter of centimeters, and he holds his breath because - gods - he can't stand smelling her when she is this close. Warm, tactile, and so different than anything he has grown accustom to in a lover since joining S.H.E.I.L.D, and it tears at him.
"This doesn't mean I like you." He feels the words as much as he hears them and then - holy shit - Skye is kissing him.
Hot and hard and it feels like she has done this before to get what she wants, but he has too. It doesn't stop either of them from taking more than they are given.
He jerks back, trying his best not to gasp, because she kissed like this is war.
"This doesn't mean I like you, either"
He doesn't give her a chance to reply, and this time when he goes up the stairs she does not stop him.
A/N: No clue how often I will update this one (My Frozen fiction is currently taking up most of my head space) but this is going to be a great way to smash writers block. I can feel it.
Curious about updates or want to harass me into continuing? That is what my fanfiction twitter is for: ravenswrite