Grant Ward has always loved the smell of coffee.

The aroma is one of comfort and friendliness, and he is someone who has once desperately needed both of those. It is only natural that once he enters college, a coffee shop is the first place he applies to work for. Luckily, he has gotten a job at one of the finest coffee shops in his town titled 'The Roasted Bean'. Grant works after classes until six and on weekend's eight until three. He even makes a few friends there, Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons, who also share his common love of the caffeinated beverage. The whole arrangement is almost perfect.

Almost.

"Hello and welcome to The Roasted Bean. Can I help you?" Grant is almost positive that he has recited this line well over ten thousand times, but he says it with a (slightly strained) smile every time nonetheless.

"I hope so," the girl in front of him answers as she balances her fairly expense looking laptop in her hands. "I'd like a large coffee- caffeinated- with two percent cream, only half of that though, and half milk." She pauses for a moment and then adds, "skim. That tastes better. Oh," she snaps her finger that does not hold a computer, which causes Grant to flinch. "Some sugar. But only about three quarters of a packet, I don't want to have too much sugar before work today." Silence consumes both Grant and the girl until she adds a timid, "please," and Grant rushes to prepare her drink.

"You will not believe what this chick just ordered," Grant whispers to Leo, who is beside him stirring some sort of chocolate substance into a cup.

"I have worked here longer than you, y'know." Leo replies smugly before placing a lid firmly onto the cup. "I've probably heard worse."

Grant grabs the milk from the counter, not bothering to check the label. "She asked for three quarters of sugar."

Leo does not say a word.

Grant nods, acknowledging Leo's obvious defeat, and quickly adds the finishing touches to the odd girl's coffee.

"Here you go," he hands it to her, a forced smile stretched onto his face. "That'll be four twenty-five."

The girl makes a face and mutters, "you guys are thieves," as she fishes a five dollar bill out of her pocket and forks it over to Grant.

"Enjoy your coffee," he tells her as he gives her the change. The girl takes it with narrowed eyes.

"Enjoy my money." She says, exiting the coffee shop swiftly. A drop of coffee spills onto her laptop as she closes the door behind her, and Grant cannot help but grin in triumph as Leo watches the girl with wide eyes.

"She is..." Grant shakes his head and turns towards his next customer.

"Yeah."

The rest of the day goes by relatively normal: Grant smiles to customers, takes their orders, prepares their drinks, and chats to Leo and Jemma once she arrives.

That is, until two thirty rolls around.

"A half an hour until my freedom," Grant jokes to Jemma while handing a man his coffee. The man tips his hat and places exact change onto the counter as Jemma rolls her eyes.

"Oh please," she pulls her hair up into a messy bun, "you love it here."

"Yeah, okay." They share a smile and Grant sighs. "I wish all customers were like that dude. Ordering black coffee, tipping his hat, leaving exact change." He takes a deep, exaggerated breath. "That's the dream"

"Well, sadly we cannot all be star customers such as that-" Jemma is stopped mid-sentence as the little bell situated above the door dings, indicating that a new customer has entered the shop.

"I've got it," Grant assures Jemma. He turns towards the customer, offering his brightest smile yet. "Hello and welcome to The Roasted Bean. Can I help you?"

The person in front of him has a large jacket on, complete with a fur hood, so Grant is not able to see their face. When they respond with, "you can't," however, he is sure he has heard their voice before.

Suddenly, as if by magic, a fair sized jar appears into the person's hand and is then slammed onto the counter. The jar has on it a blue post-it note which reads, COMPLAINTS, and the person does not even have to remove their hood for Grant to know their identity.

"It's you," he states and the girl removes her hood.

"I have a name, you know." She crosses her arms and glares. "It's Skye."

"Alright, Skye," Grant says, trying the name out. "What's this all about?" He gestures towards the jar, and Skye's glare hardens.

"As you know, I got my coffee from here earlier this morning. You made it." Grant nods, which prompts her to continue. "Well, to put it nicely... you screwed up. There was too much sugar, not enough caffeine, and the milk was definitely not skim. Anyway, I was upset, obviously, until I remembered what my friend Bobbi always tells me. She says, 'don't let people walk all over you, Skye.' So..." she twiddles her thumbs, suddenly appearing nervous. "This is about not letting you walk all over me."

Grant is rendered speechless for about the first time in his life as he stares at the girl- sorry, Skye, in front of him. She has brown hair and extremely rosy cheeks, from the cold or too much blush, Grant will never know. Her eyes shine brightly in the light, and her skin is perfect. Almost too perfect.

He blinks, ignoring Jemma's muffled laughter coming from behind him, and takes yet another deep breath. This time, it is exaggerated just the right amount. "Listen, just because I didn't make your coffee perfectly or whatever, does not mean that you can just waltz in here, claim that I'm 'walking all over you', and put this thing on our counter." He nudges the jar with his elbow, and Skye has to place her hand up to keep it from falling.

"Your first complaint," is all she says in return as she drops a folded up note into the jar. Skye then walks away, her coat still concealing her body.

"Oh. My. God." Jemma squeaks, running towards Grant. "That girl is my new hero," she tells him while reaching into the jar. Grant swats her hand away before Jemma can grasp onto the piece of paper that sits at the bottom, causing her to frown. "Leo!" She then calls out, to which Leo exits the kitchen, his hands covered with mustard.

"What is it, Jemma? I'm kind of busy." He raises a hand as proof, but Jemma simply waves him off.

"Come take a look at this." She makes another grab for the note, and this time she is successful.

"What's that you're holding?" Leo questions as he wipes his hands with an old towel. His inquiry causes Jemma to grin and Grant to groan, which only piques his curiosity even more. "Come on now, tell me!"

"This is our very first complaint from our very first complaint jar," Jemma states rather proudly. Why this whole ordeal makes her swell with pride, Grant can only wonder.

"Where did that-"

"Ahem." Leo is interrupted by Jemma's protruding voice. "I suggest that you get a new barista. A current one of yours, the tall brunette male, does not seem to comprehend basic English nor does he know how to properly apply cologne. Seriously, he smells like he bathed in the stuff. Also, your morning coffee was kind of stale." Once Jemma finishes reading she bursts into giggles, and Leo leans over to sniff Grant's shirt.

"Oh, cut it out you two!" Grant exclaims, shoving Leo away from him. "That girl's just ridiculous."

The jar, however, remains on the counter.

Skye returns the next morning, her eyes burning with some sort of seemingly uncharacteristic rage and her hands clutching her laptop incredibly tight. "One large coffee, two cream." She demands as she approaches Grant. "Can you handle that?"

"I don't know," he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. "Could you repeat that? I've recently been informed that my English isn't too great." Skye eyes the jar and gives a small nod upon noticing its lack of papers.

"You read my note. Good. Now, can I count on you to make me this coffee, or do I have to go to Espresso Express instead?" She taps her foot impatiently, and Grant rips a cup away from its stacked position.

"I would despair if you did." He mutters bitterly as he fills the cup with black liquid. When he glances up at Skye, he sees that she now holds a pen and paper in her hand. "What are you doing?" He asks, pouring cream into the cup.

"Writing your next complaint." She answers while furiously scribbling onto the paper. "There," she finishes with a twisted grin, throwing the page into the jar.

"Four twenty-five." Grant replies, shoving the cup in Skye's face. She grabs her drink and drops five dollars onto the counter.

"Keep the change!" She calls back to him as she exits, her coffee and computer in hand. "I'm a good freakin' person like that!"

And then she is gone.

"Guys," Grant announces, facing Leo and a newly arrived Jemma, "I think I've made a new enemy."

The complaint jar becomes a hit, much to Grant and his boss Phil Coulson's dismay.

"This just gives people an excuse to find things wrong with the shop!" Coulson yells to Grant later that week. "And we can't dispose of it, because then people will think that improving our service doesn't matter to us!" Grant shrugs in response.

"So? The jar was put here by a girl just because I didn't make her coffee right," Grant explains, leaning against the table in the kitchen. "I think people will understand once we get rid of it." Coulson seems to have only heard a part of Grant's argument, however, and his response shocks the tall barista.

"You'll take care of the jar." Coulson nods, satisfied. "Yes, every evening before you leave you will both read and attempt to deal with any and every complaint." Grant simply stands in place as his boss exits without another word.

Well, shit.

Grant Ward is starting to hate the smell of coffee.

It was once something of peace to him, but because of Skye, it has transformed into an aroma driven by pure and utter disgust.

"This is stupid," Grant murmurs to himself as he sorts through that day's complaints. Most of them are written by Skye, he notes, as she signs each one with a large 'S' at the bottom.

"They're still coming?" Jemma questions as she passes the table he is seated at. Grant nods bitterly.

"I can't believe her." He spits, crumpling up yet another piece of paper. "All of her complaints are just stupid!" Jemma frowns, pity shining in her brown eyes.

"Let me see," she offers, taking a quick seat beside her friend. "Your coffee needs more beans," she reads aloud, scrunching her eyebrows at the absurd comment. "It is becoming kind of tasteless. Well, either that or your oddly muscular barista doesn't know how to prepare coffee properly. I feel like it's the latter." Jemma spares a glance at Grant before arising from her seat.

"You are pretty muscular," she concludes, to which Grant rolls his eyes.

"We all know that." He states, shaking his head. "How do I deal with this, though?" He fingers another piece of paper and rips it up upon noticing a large 'S' at the bottom.

"I don't know," Jemma shrugs her shoulders up and down. "Complain back."

The next morning, Grant awaits Skye, black marker in hand.

"Large coffee, two cream." Skye demands once she enters the shop. Grant smiles and grabs a cup.

"Will that be all, Skye?" She looks at him suspiciously, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Grant. It will." Grant pauses.

"How do you..." He trails off upon noticing his name tag, which hangs off of his shirt sloppily. "Oh." A blush creeps onto his cheeks, and Skye laughs. She pulls a piece of paper and pen out of her pocket, still grinning, and begins to write something down.

"Here you are." She announces, placing the paper in the jar delicately. Grant grins.

"And here you are." He hands Skye her drink, and she glares at him upon noticing the black markings that cover her cup.

"What's this supposed to be?" She inquires harshly, examining the writings. Grant's smile only widens.

"Your first complaint." Skye's eyes grow large and she huffs, holding the drink closer to her face.

"Your complaints are stupid, and your pants always seem to have holes in them," she reads. "It seriously looks like you've been attacked by some sort of rabid beast." Skye rolls her eyes and hands Grant a five dollar bill, scoffing when she sees his triumphant smile. "Keep the change," she tells him, shaking her head and walking away.

Grant smiles for a moment longer before reaching into the jar and grabbing Skye's newest addition.

The lighting in your shop bothers my eyes. Also, your barista never fills my cup with enough coffee. Either you guys are cheap, or the light is causing problems with his eyes, also.

He rips the paper up, shaking his head.

Skye really is something, that's for sure.

Their little routine goes on for quite a while: Skye orders a large coffee while writing a complaint about him, he makes her coffee while writing a complaint about her. At first their complaints are fairly plausible, but they soon become outrageous as they run out of things to accuse the other of.

Your hair is a mess and I hate the color yellow on you, she writes one day.

Your laptop looks dirty and one of your shoes has a missing rhinestone, he shoots back.

Yellow is never worn on him again, though.

It is all in good fun, Grant decides one day. She does still annoy him, although only a little. If he is being honest with himself, her visits are the most entertaining part of his day.

As she enters the coffee shop one afternoon Grant begins to plan out his next complaint in his mind. He stops, however, when he takes notice of the tear tracks that litter her face.

"Hey," he says, voice full of concern. "What's the matter?" Skye shakes her head and wipes her eyes.

"It's nothing," she tells him with a wave of her hand. "Can I just have the usual?" Grant nods.

"Yeah, sure." He begins to prepare her coffee, but turns towards her once more when she sniffles loudly. "Seriously though, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"My boyfriend of two years dumped me about three months ago," she begins, and Grant listens intently. The coffee and other waiting customers become forgotten. "It was kinda out of the blue, so I was upset, naturally. I mean, we hadn't been fighting or anything. I just..." She stops and wipes her eyes once more. "Yeah. Anyway, I just found out that he had been cheating on me for over a year and a half. That long! And now, since he works with me, I have to go and look him in the eye every single day." Skye takes a breath, and Grant hands her a napkin. She accepts it gratefully and daps her face delicately. "I would quit, but finding a job in my department is pretty hard. Plus, I've been having some financial issues lately. I know it's stupid, but..."

Grant puts his hand up, interrupting her. "It's not stupid. Here," he fills a cup with coffee and pours the correct amount of cream in. "Take this, on the house."

"Really?" Skye inquires, awestruck, and Grant bobs his head up and down.

"Really." He offers the cup to Skye and she accepts with a smile.

"Thank you." She takes a sip of her drink, and suddenly her tears vanish. They replace themselves with a grin that, to Grant, appears almost cynical.

"Wait, you tricked me!" Grant realizes quickly. "Give me that back!" He calls out to Skye, but to his dismay, she is already out of the door.

When Grant walks into the shop late the next afternoon, he swears he's never felt more betrayed.

There, standing by the counter is Skye, who is chatting away with both Leo and Jemma, as the shop is fairly empty.

Grant strides over to them and with a simple move of his arm, grabs Leo and pulls him into the kitchen. "What the hell are you guys doing?" He asks regarding the scene he just witnessed. "She's my enemy! Friends aren't supposed to make friends with their friend's enemy!"

"Huh?"

Grant huffs, irritated. "Why are you and Jemma talking to Skye? We hate her!" Leo shakes his head.

"No," he corrects, "you hate her. Well, frankly, I don't even know if that's true anymore."

"She conned me yesterday!" Grant yells, and Leo covers his ears. "She lied to me!"

"Skye's been having a rough time," Leo informs his friend as he removes his hands from his ears. "Her boyfriend was cheating on her and she's having some money issues. She's been upset lately. Just... be nice to her, yeah?"

"No, that's a lie, Leo." Grant tells his friend, his voice considerably lower now. "She's playing you, like she played me."

"Maybe," Leo shrugs. "But what would she be getting outta doing that?"

Nothing, Grant realizes as he exits the kitchen and looks at Skye. She appears as if she has been crying, what with mascara stains on her face and her constant sniffing.

Absolutely nothing.

"She likes you," Jemma points out one day as Grant is preparing a latte.

"What?" He freezes instantly, and the latte falls onto the floor. The contents of the cup splatter all over the tiles, prompting Grant to let out a string of curses.

"I've got it," Jemma tells him as she rushes to get a towel. Once she returns, she continues to speak. "Think about it. She only comes to the shop when you're working, she leaves notes only about you... Plus, have you seen the way she looks at you?" She sighs wistfully. "She's completely smitten. It's adorable."

"Nah," Grant turns to make another cup. "No way."

"Yes way!" Jemma shrieks, hitting Grant with the towel. "And you like her too!"

"Not a chance." Grant denies once more. This time, however, he's not entirely sure he's being truthful.

"Let me guess," Grant declares as Skye walks over to him, "a large with two creams." Skye approaches the counter and places a hand on her hip.

"Well, yeah, that's the only thing you seem able to make." She smiles. "Unless your coffee-making skills have magically gotten better overnight."

"No, I still suck." Grant smiles back and Skye pulls change out of her pocket.

"Figures," she says while counting quarters.

"I do have something to say to you, though." Grant reveals to Skye, interrupting her counting. She looks up at him and grimaces.

"Oh, please don't say you love me." Grant laughs and hands her a cup.

"You wish."

Skye leaves before he can say anymore, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. She does not notice the writing scrawled across her cup until she is well down the street.

Will you go out with me?

The following evening Grant sits down at an empty table, the complaint jar in front of him. There is only one piece of paper in the jar, as customers have already voiced all of their complaints over the last couple months. Without even looking Grant knows that the paper is Skye's, even though he hasn't seen her all day. She must have dropped the paper in the jar when he was on break, he figures as he picks the paper up. After all, she seems to know his schedule better than he does.

Grant opens the note with a fluttering feeling in his chest. The feeling only increases when he reads the single word written neatly in pink ink.

Yes.

A/N: This is just a cute little skyeward au because I need cute skyeward atm.

Review please? :)