DISCLAIMER: Agents of SHIELD and its characters are owned by Marvel Entertainment.

Crush Run

Fitz's small-caliber weapon sounded like a firecracker. He emptied his magazine into the target, toggling the switch to reel it in.

Not one round in the X. He sighed. With qualifications coming up, it looked like he was going to be putting in a lot more range time.

Ward's larger-caliber weapon was like a cannon going off compared to Fitz's. The scientist had once asked the shooter what the appeal was of the larger caliber. The answer had several parts to it, boiling down to a greater chance of a round stopping an opponent even if it was off its mark. Ward said anything could take down an opponent with proper placement, but every so often a certain Mr. Murphy liked to pay you a visit and wiggle circumstances just enough that the round didn't go where you wanted, and that was when you wanted the odds on your side.

The cannon sound stopped as Ward glanced over at Fitz's target. Plugs still in, Fitz could only make out talky sounds. He looked at Ward and removed the plugs. "What?"

"You're jerking. Flinching on the trigger squeeze," Ward repeated. "It's throwing off your aim. If you want, I could help you out."

"Ok, I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

They'd been working on improving several aspects of Fitz's shooting, from stance to proper squeeze to counting rounds to shot placement beyond center mass, when Daisy Johnson entered.

"Hello, Daisy," Fitz greeted her amiably.

Ward was less sociable. "Skye – I mean, Daisy, sorry. Didn't mean to – well, I – er – hi," he finished lamely.

Daisy smiled warmly at Fitz. She tried to smile at Ward, but it faltered.

Things were…complex between them. Had been, for years now. Ward couldn't blame her for not knowing how to be around him.

It had been Skye who argued for his second chance. Ward felt he was still earning it. Forgiveness can be easier to get than redemption.

Over time, he had gotten that forgiveness. Coulson had forgiven him. May had forgiven him, as much as she was capable of forgiving anybody. Mack had forgiven him. Morse and Hunter, even though they weren't around for his betrayal, after some time of distrust had come to accept him. Even Simmons had eventually forgiven him – more in her own self-interest of not being eaten away by a grudge, but beggars can't be choosers.

Fitz had been a tougher nut to crack, but he too had come around.

The thing about getting it from Fitz was it only came with time. There was nothing specific to be done, no grand gesture that all on its own was proof of deserving forgiveness. It took time, a long enough time so Fitz was able to see a definite pattern of penitence.

It also took many nights of being invited out drinking with Hunter and Ward, on Ward's tab.

That was the nice thing about this better Ward. That they would never completely sync the way Fitz and Simmons did, didn't stop Ward from counting Fitz as one of the guys. Fitz could opt out any time, but Ward always extended the invitation.

Even talked him into Ward's idea of fun a few times. Only the one time paintballing – getting covered in bruises was certainly not his idea of fun – but a good compromise was found in laser tag. Ward was still trying to talk him up to airsoft.

And he at least tried to follow when Fitz would wax enthusiastic about "squint stuff".

He really was a better Ward. He'd just needed to be deprogrammed, was all.

Ward was grateful to Skye for being the first one to realize that. But it would have been nice if she'd come to that realization before she shot him.

Of all things, why was the look on her face when she did that one that still haunted his dreams? Why was it, of all the people he had hurt, he most regretted the pain he had caused her, even these years later? He was still pained over what he had brought on Fitz and all the work it had taken to overcome the damage from the oxygen deprivation, but it was knowing how he'd wrecked Skye's – Daisy's, he just couldn't get used to her being Daisy – heart that woke him up at night.

Kept him from being truly at ease around her, no matter how much he wanted.

And it was clear she had her own unresolved issues with him.

It didn't stop them being able to work together. It just made anything beyond that difficult.

Ward kept his back to Daisy as they worked. Fitz felt sure it wasn't just about avoiding awkwardness, it was Ward's way of giving her her space as well. It didn't escape his notice that she took advantage to sneak small glances over, observing how helpful Ward was being.

Idiots, the both of them. They wanted to find a way to each other, they just didn't know how. It was amusing, in a heartbreaking way.

Daisy put in her ten magazines of range time. She didn't need as much practice as Fitz, so her time went by quicker. Two mags of draw-and-fire, slowly drawing, acquiring, firing one shot, full focus on form. Two mags of full-speed, drawing and emptying a mag as fast as she could, ejecting and reloading as fast as she could and emptying the mag. Two mags of pretending the weapon jammed to stay sharp on clearing malfunctions. The last four mags were standard practice – double-taps, switching between standing and kneeling, switching from two-handed to one-handed to off-hand and back. She wasn't as fanatical as Ward was, recording the placement of each round and scoring himself and running timed drills, but she was thorough.

She couldn't see it, but Fitz could – every time she brought the target in and made a satisfied noise, a small smile appeared on Ward's face.

When she was finished, Daisy policed her portion of the range and left, leaving them to continue drilling.

Reeling in the target yet again to check for improvement as he reloaded for another run-through and Ward readied a fresh target to be pinned to the frame, Fitz took the opportunity to remove his plugs. "When are you going to work it out?" he asked.

"Work out what?"

"Just get up the courage to talk to Daisy in an actual conversation. You two are so out-of-sorts around each other that aside from missions, you can't even dance around it. It's the worst high-school crush the human race has ever seen."

"Hey! I do not have a crush on Sk – Daisy!" Ward protested emphatically. "I'm a grown man, I don't do crushes. If I had anything to say to her, I'd say it. I – just don't have anything to say, is all."

"Sure thing."

Fitz had one plug back in when Ward noticed something. "That's Skye's pack, isn't it?"

Fitz looked where Ward indicated. "Yes. Guess she must have left –" He was cut off in surprise as Ward went and grabbed the pack and took off like a rocket. "Well, that was unexpected."

Out of the range, an agent was passing by; a new guy, going from the uber-squared-away appearance common to all new guys. Ward snagged him. "Which way did Skye go?"

The young'un blinked in non-recognition. "Who?"

"Daisy! Quake! The woman who just left here! Which way did she go?"

"Oh. Um…back that way, I think."

"You think? God save me from FNGs!"

Ward nonetheless took the best bet and dashed in the indicated direction. He rounded the corner just as a rolljack of equipment transported by two techs, one on each side, was coming around toward him.

Ward leaped without pause, a hand on the head of each tech boosting him as he vaulted over the jack. He left them standing there trying to process what had just happened; there was no time for an apology, he had to get Skye her pack!

The corridor was a long one, but several others branched off from it. After each one, Ward poked his head in a room and asked which way she'd gone, to make sure he was still on the right track. The path he was on took him to this floor's rec room. "Anyone seen S – Daisy, anyone seen her?"

"You mean Quake? Yeah, man, you just missed her, she went down the side hall there. Probably headed to get something to eat."

No sooner were the words out than Ward was moving again, narrowly spinning and dodging through a group of people coming out of said side hall like a running back in possession juking around defenders. The group stared after him, wide-eyed, then shrugged at each other. It was SHIELD, after all; compared to a gamma-enlarged 100-pound mouse running around like yesterday, this was barely a blip.

The cafeteria was positioned with defending against an assault in mind, a result of the attempted Hydra coup. To enter, you had to navigate a mini-maze of waist-high barriers spaced so as to provide cover against attackers either holding or trying to take the eating facility. Ward looked like a parkour practitioner as he jump-skipped off the wall onto the first barrier and bounded from one to the next until he was in, twisting his body in space to avoid colliding with someone coming out. It forced him to land with his weight on one side, and he fell. Damn it!

Pushing himself up, he tested the ankle he fell on. Felt like just a twist, good. Eyes were on him, so he took that opportunity to ask for Daisy. A cook said she had just been in but realized she had to see Mack about something more important.

Mack. Ok, good, Ward knew where to find him. He took another exit out of the cafeteria and down a corridor that would get him to a shortcut –

– and hit the floor at the sound of a gunshot, holding the pack out gingerly to avoid damaging it. Putting the pack first meant he took the brunt of the impact. It was heavy enough that his arms came down low, and the sting told him his elbows were skinned. A spent icer round gave one last PING as it finished ricocheting and fell an inch shy of his nose.

Several other people were crouched, looking for the source, wondering whether to return fire.

"Negligent discharge! Sorry, everyone, negligent discharge!"

"You think?" Ward muttered, picking himself up. There was no time to slow down; indeed, he had to move quicker if he wanted to catch Skye, and it was looking like the sooner he got her the pack, the better it would be for his health.

He bolted to his intended shortcut stairwell, slamming into the door and flying down the stairs. It would be better to slow down, but this was Skye's pack – what if she needed it? It was important he get it to her!

So it was that he discovered he was going too fast to safely stop when he spotted the crate at the foot of the stairs. First an ND, now this. SHIELD was getting lax in its safety policies, it seemed; OSHA would not be pleased.

But there was no time to worry about that. Ward jumped with as much strength as he could muster from ten steps up, releasing the pack in mid-air. Came down, raising the twisted ankle just enough to establish minimal contact to maintain balance without further injuring it, hit and tucked and rolled, coming up right on time for Skye's pack to land in his arms. It was heavy enough that a grunt issued from him on impact.

"Mack!"

Mack turned, having been occupied with something else that made him completely miss Ward's impressive performance.

"Hey!" he called as Ward trotted up, fighting not to wheeze. "You come from the track or something? Look a little worn down."

"It's nothing. Hey, is Skye around here? I came to give her pack to her, she forgot it."

"You just missed her." Ward fought not to groan. "She had a couple questions, then said she forgot something. I guess that." Mack motioned toward the pack. "She went out that way because the lift's down for maintenance."

Ward looked up another flight of stairs. "Of course it is." He took a deep breath and started running again, sprinting as hard as he could up the bright yellow stairs.

"Oh, hey, watch out for the–"

Mack's warning about the grease spot at the top of the stairs came too late. Ward was already discovering it, coming down hard on his knee with an audible yelp.

"You need first aid?" Mack called.

Ward swore silently, gritted his teeth, stood up with the precious cargo, and moved on.

A couple more mishaps later, he limped back to the firing range. Stopped briefly as he heard Skye's voice – "my pack. You haven't seen it, have you?"

"Ward didn't catch up to you?"

That was his cue. Ward straightened up, hiding his pain, and did a passable impression of someone cool and composed as he strolled in. "You forgot this."

While she couldn't quite muster a smile earlier, she did now. "Thanks!" Took her pack gratefully.

Skye paused, an uncertain look on her face, then tugged Ward down and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You look a little like you're playing through the pain, so thanks again."

Pain? What pain? Ward didn't feel anything except fireworks.

She started to leave, then turned. "Actually, I do owe you one for this, and it might be past time we…chatted. Would you like to get something to eat?"

Ward blinked. "Um – er – sure," he managed. "Oh, hang on, though. Fitz, you ok without me?"

"Sure," the scientist said. "It's getting time to pack it in, anyway. You can only make so much progress at a time."

"All right, then. I guess if anyone needs me, I'll be eating with – Daisy."

She looked away just slightly, brushing a lock of hair back. Smiled again, a small one. It looked almost shy to Ward. "If it makes things easier for you…you can call me Skye."

"No, that's ok. I'll get used to Daisy, I promise. I like it. I think Daisy's awesome." Jeez, that was cheesy. Worse, Ward was pretty sure it was obvious he wasn't talking about the name.

As they left, Ward hoping he didn't have a stupid grin on his face, Fitz snickered to himself. "Nope, you big tough guy, you. No crush at all."