A/N: Unlike Haylie's birthday, this time I actually managed to put something together in tribute of Skye's birthday :) I hope you'll enjoy it.


Birthday Blues and Hotel Rooms

"And…" Skye triumphantly hit Enter, "I'm in! As of now, I have complete access to every digital transmission going on in that building," she said, stretching her fingers as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

"That's… great," Grant replied from his seat by the window, but his voice sounded clipped and unenthusiastic even to him, for which he mentally cursed himself. So he pulled the binoculars from his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and tried again. "You are amazing," he told her with a smile that he hoped looked genuine.

But of course Skye picked up that something was amiss.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her brows pulled together.

Grant found himself wishing, not for the first time in his life, that he could go back in time–this time just a minute, so he could put up a more convincing performance.

"Nothing," he answered, eyes trained on the building across the street–fifth floor, third window from the left–, purposefully turning in a way so Skye couldn't see his face–as if that would help him. Still, knowing that she would never be satisfied with that half-assed, one-word answer (and that he'd be locked up in this room with her in the next twenty-four–thirty-six hours), he went on, "It's just I hate surveillance ops like this."

Which was even kind of true; although he'd been trained for this kind of stuff–lying in wait for long hours, never losing focus–, it didn't mean he liked it. The classic, eventless, spying-from-the-neighboring-building kind of surveillance was amongst the worst things that came with the job, ranking right behind "lying to your friends" and "getting shot" on the list. He wished Bobbi and Hunter could have taken this assignment, but even though Hunter would have been up to it, Coulson needed Skye on site for the hacking part of the job, and there was not even a slightest chance of Grant letting her go with the Brit. Especially not now.

"Oh," Skye said, then he heard the springs in the mattress creak as she settled into a more comfortable position. "I mean, sure, this can get pretty boring, but… we can entertain ourselves? We could play some games… Like, what about 'I Spy'?" she prompted, still with a level of innocence that never ceased to amaze him.

He couldn't help the smirk settling at the corner of his mouth. "I spy with my little eye… our target still watching porn," he said, binoculars held firmly in front of him.

"Ew!" came the instinctive reaction from Skye. "That was way too much information. Okay, so maybe not 'I Spy.' Twenty Questions?"

Grant sighed. "Sure. Go on."

But three seconds ticked by, and she still hadn't said a word. He was just about to check if she was okay, when she finally said, "Something is still bothering you. I can feel it."

He knew there was no going around it anymore–no matter what evasive tactics he would have tried, she'd have seen through all of them (she had a radar like that). So he put down his binoculars once again and turned towards her, looking straight into her eyes.

"It's just… today is the first of July."

"Yeah, I know that," she chuckled, leaning forward on the bed, resting her chin in her hands. "I looked at the calendar this morning."

"And it seems like we'll be here for a while."

"Okay, I know it sucks, but–" she started, still oblivious to what he meant. But then she broke off mid-sentence, her eyes going wide. "Oh. Yeah. Right. Tomorrow." She blushed. She actually blushed. "I… I've completely forgotten about it," she admitted, sitting up straight once again.

Grant let out a humorless chuckle–yeah, he reckoned people weren't unlikely to forget about their birthdays, especially if it was the first time they got to celebrate it on the day. (Sometimes he still got unreasonably mad at the universe for screwing her over this much.)

"It's no big deal, really," Skye went on, waving dismissively, her fake, devil-may-care smile back on her face. "It's just a day, like any other. And it's not like I have any real attachment to this day, you know. And this mission is important, so–"

"But I wanted to make it special for you," he said, interrupting her and casting his eyes down.

There was that silence again–the kind when he almost felt like he should have been hearing cicadas.

"That's… really sweet of you," she said at last, tentatively, almost as if she wasn't sure that it was the appropriate answer. "Did… did you have anything planned?" There's genuine curiosity in her voice.

"Sure," he nods (as if he'd ever jump into any mission without a plan). "I wanted to let you sleep in," he tells her, feeling weirdly self-conscious. This should have been a surprise, not a verbal recount. "Then bring you breakfast in bed."

As he spoke, he saw a slow, wonderful smile blossom on her face. "And then?" she prompted, her chin now resting on her knee.

"And then I would have made love to you. Maybe. Probably," he said, suddenly feeling a lot more confident. She chuckled, her head falling forward, her face hidden behind her hair. "And then I would have spirited you away from the base. We could have gone anywhere you wanted. We could have even taken a quinjet if that would have been what you desired, Coulson to be damned. We could have gone… to the beach, to the Central Park, I don't know. Or Paris, if that's what you desired. Although Vegas is a lot closer…" he added with a smirk. "And then I would have taken you to a romantic dinner, because that's the least you deserve." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I just wanted the day to be about you. Not…" he gestured around the room, "…about this. About sitting in a dingy hotel room, monitoring a guy who seemingly has a thing for Korean porn."

"Yeah, I guess I could do something about that," she said, sitting up straight. "Scramble with the signal, I mean, make him watch My Little Pony instead. Although… never mind. I just had a very disturbing thought. But what I really want to say is…" she stood from the bed, walked over to him, and sat down in front of him, putting her arms around his neck and resting their foreheads together. "You are the best, sweetest, amazing-est boyfriend ever, and I honestly have no idea what I did to deserve you." And she kissed him.

He smiled against her lips. "If it's any consolation, I often think about the same thing–I mean about what I did to deserve a wonder like you."

She laughed, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"And if this is any consolation, there's nobody else I'd rather share this dingy hotel room and our porn-lover friend with." She kissed him again. This time he slid his hand into her hair, resting his palm on the back of her head, pulling her forward, deepening the kiss. "And…" she said once they pulled apart, her breathing a little labored, "as for tomorrow–we can totally raincheck. Do it once we're done here and have a little down time. Because now I really want to do it. I want to have a special day with you. And I promise you won't even have to take me to Paris." Another quick kiss. "But I have a condition."

"And what would that be?" he asked, their noses touching.

A mischievous glint in her eyes, she smirked, "I'll want chocolate chip pancakes for that breakfast in bed-thing."