Grant had joined the Secret Service after a stint in the FBI and before that the army. He'd spent his in the service of others trying to out run his family name. Just because his family had money and would sell his grandmother down the river to sit in the oval office doesn't mean he would.
He takes perverse pleasure in the way they react to him being close to goal and not wanting it according to his Congressman daddy he's nothing more than a trained monkey.
He loves his job but protecting the First Daughter Skye Coulson is trying on any easy day. The harder days he wants to take a bullet. He'd get injury leave.
-/-/-
He stood somewhat nervously before the director of the Secret Service. "Director Fury sir, I need a break from her. I swear to God if I have to stop her from smoking in Lincoln monument or stop another equality right for her internet buddies I will strangle her." He said tensely with a head shake.
"The Lincoln Monument?" Fury's brows rise.
He said with chagrin. "Ashed her cigarette on old Abe's shoe."
"You really want a break Ward?" Fury clarified.
"Yes, I'll take any other detail… really."
"Jemma Simmons is here teaching a term at Georgetown in Biomechanics or something. I could leave you to protect Ambassador Simmons daughter. She's a boring good girl."
He slides her dossier across the table. "I know who she is sir." He picks up the thick file perusing it.
"Then this particular detail meets with your approval then Agent Ward? The only reason you've been given such leeway is Mr. President likes you. I'd not waste it." Fury advised darkly. "Dismissed Agent."
-/-
He's sits at his kitchenette table and goes over Jemma's file. A cup of Irish coffee in hand he memorizes her routine along with the pedestrian and automobile traffic of every coffee shop, grocery store, and doctor's office she visits. He maps out exit strategies for all of them as well. He plans out an exit strategy or failsafe for any and all of her lab classes just in case.
He moves on to her personal data. Favorite foods, allergies, fears, along with her strengths and weakness. He knows the faces of every single person she knows and loves by the end of the night. His eyes are crossing with exhaustion by the time he lets himself just look at her.
She was really very beautiful in an unassuming way. Even if she did wear too many goddamn ponytails by his estimation. He'd met her briefly while she'd been out clubbing with Skye Coulson. When he was protecting Skye he'd allowed himself to fantasize about Jemma but only in the abstract I will never get close enough to act on anything sort of way. It was very dirty fantasy he had revisited more than once.
This detail was going to be torture. Anything was better than Skye's antics by far.
It'd be a miracle if he kept his hands to himself.
-/-/-
The next morning he shows up as is customary to relieve the night rotation. He is standing statue still to the left of the door when she opens it to retrieve the Monday morning paper. "Oh you're quite new…I thought you belonged to Skye…I mean on her detail. "She said glancing up him with a bright smile. Her sleep tumbled hair falling flatteringly in her face.
"We switched things up." He answered trying heartily to not stare at the skin exposed by her tank top. He'd never found a woman's clavicles enticing before. He was so fucking screwed. Shit he was staring. What was she saying? He drags his eyes up to her face with some effort and tons of regret.
She's blushing at him prettily as she continues on. She'd caught his stare. Some tiny part of him likes the fact that just looking at the woman makes her blush. "I'm quite the low maintenance protectee or so Bobbi and Lance tell me. They're my MI 6 detail anyway it will be lovely to work with you Agent Ward."
"Likewise I'm sure Miss Simmons." He thinks of something he needs to know. "What's your Encoded Handle? It wasn't in the file."
"Oh it wouldn't be President Coulson likes to use famous heroines for our codes. None fit my intellect. I prefer birds. So, I'm The Starling."
She leaves the house promptly at seven AM and he drives her to the class she's to teach.
If gaze falls on her every time he does his cursory check of the lecture hall he tells himself it's because it's his job. The fact that he enjoys watching her is just a bonus. She moves quite gracefully as she stretches up to write things on the black boards or if she's staring down into her microscope as she is explaining the biometric structure of the…whatever the fuck she just said's cell. It's all oddly graceful.
He stays there at the top of the stadium style seating of the lecture hall. He takes in the sight of her now with more focus just because he can. This staring thing is quickly becoming an addiction.
When her last class files out she tears down her pony tail and rolls her neck. "You can come down from the nose bleeds you know?" She said hands laced on the back of her neck as she looked up at him. "It's likely most difficult to protect me from there. Unlike Miss Coulson I don't bite even if you ask nicely. She quips as he strolls down to her trying to project a relaxed state.
"Ain't that a shame." He muttered to himself.
"Come again?" She asked distractedly as she wrote something down on her desk calendar.
"I said you're an engaging teacher you must like your work."
She sighed and cracked her neck while looking up at him. "It fills the void. My partner is working for Stark industries until my father's tenure in the US is through, this just keeps my hands busy."
"Still you're good." He compliments watching her get to her feet.
"I can't send stupid people out into the world. It's bad for it." She gathered her things.
"I think I heard that on a TV show once."
"Friday Night Lights. Nice catch…I'm a Tami Taylor fan. American football is totally bollocks but the ensuing drama is rather enthralling." She gives him a happy grin that sets his pulse to a faster pace.
"So no football? Soccer? Wait I know you like polo." He flirts a little he can't help himself.
Her face screws up as she stepped around the desk to stand at his side. "Ugh you've never beaten Prince Harry at his own game. It soured me on the whole deal."
"You beat a prince? "He said shocked as he fought back a laugh.
"Fair and square it's simple math really. Speed of the horse, force of the mallet hitting the ball… velocity of the ball and location of the other players. Math and a little planning and it's a simpleton's game."
"Is there any game you can't think your way into winning?" He asked as they head for the door.
"Bingo Maybe…. It's mostly chance though given a card and the number of balls in play I could work up the statistical likelihood of a win in a few minutes." She answered tilting her chin up a little proudly.
He laughs. "I should take you to Vegas." He opens the door and checks the hall that id now emptying moderately.
"Card counting is illegal and quite difficult Fitz and I tried it once… we didn't exactly fail but we still got caught. I'm a wretched liar and even worse fake drunkard."
He replied as the waited for it to clear so he'd have better sight lines. "So you called in a favor or two?"
"Oh no, we told the casino how to better their failing games. They much preferred that than having to arrest a dignitary's sixteen year old daughter." He grins. Damn it, He's really going to like her.
He walks abreast to her as they head for the faculty parking lot. He's sure Bobbi is behind them but as she rattles on happily about this and that he doesn't really care… he cursory sweeps the parking lot before picking up conversation with her. "I truly have no clue what a nucleotide is…"
"I could teach you but unless it's your passion it's not that interesting." She's biting her bottom lip and his insides shouldn't feel like jelly with the inciting action but they do.
Grant could use a new passion. Why does the one he wants have to be so clearly marked in bold off limits to him.
-/-/-/-
Phil Coulson chastises his daughter from behind the "Kennedy Desk." "Did you have to annoy Ward so much Skye? He's good! That's why he's on your detail. Or was on your detail I should say,"
She shifts on the couch in the center of the oval office. "He's a stick in the mud Dad." Skye's phone trills out her text alert. She sneakily looks at it.
Jem Jam: "Thank you for being such a prat to your secret service agent I'm very much enjoying the eye candy."
Skye: "I knew it! I knew you liked him. When you have torrid dirty sex in a public restroom I expect a courtesy details call."
Jem Jam: I'm not that big of a slag thank you!
"Skye if you don't stop texting I'm going to throw your phone in the fish tank you were so insistent on." He gestured to the fish tank banking the right side of the circular room.
"Yeah Pops, sorry I'll stop. " She shoves her locked phone under her thigh and endures her lecture on being a less exhaustive protectee.
-/-
"What're you doing?" Ward asked her having caught sight of her in the rearview.
"Sending Skye a thank you note she sent me a lovely house warming gift." She half lied and fiddled with hem of her purple jumper.
AN: I own nothing. I know zip about Polo. Obviously I do not know Prince Harry it was too good to resist though. Just don't sue me. I do not own anything FNL related either I just felt like dropping a little Tami Taylor in. If you guys like this let me know. I'm very nervous about this one.-MM