A/N:

Now, this is the first part of what will be a multi-chapter fic. I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to rewrite every episode, or just write little episode tags, or what. The next part might be a while as I decide exactly how I'm going to play this. (I do know how it ends, though!) Please bear with me.

I hope you enjoy, and please be kind if you choose to review!

So Grant is standing in the cargo bay, and he might be staring at his soulmate like an idiot, but his mind is racing with plans and contingencies…and maybe even a little bit of panic.

He's read the psych profiles on Jemma Simmons, both the one SHIELD created and the one Garrett created. Her SHIELD profile says that she's brilliant, dedicated, enthusiastic about her work, and fiercely loyal to those she deems worthy of it—namely, Leo Fitz and SHIELD as a whole. Garrett's profile of her is simpler: it identifies her as a risk because she is firm in her moral convictions and far too perceptive by half.

Staring down at her, still reeling from the unfamiliar warmth in his chest, he really can't help but panic.

He has no idea what to do with this.

He's going to have to report to Coulson that he and Simmons are soulmates, and that could be a problem. Soulmates aren't allowed to go into the field together—and for good reason. So either he gets taken off the team, which will completely ruin Garrett's entire plan, or Simmons does, and that...

It should be a good thing, he thinks. Have his soulmate taken off his team and sent back to the lab, where she'll be out of the line of fire and he can go about this deep cover mission without worrying about her, about her safety and what she thinks of him and how she'll feel if she ever finds out he's HYDRA.

But he knows she won't go back to the lab. He knows, from the watch Garrett has kept on this team as it formed, that it was Simmons' idea to go into the field in the first place, that she talked Fitz into it and basically dragged him along with her. If she gets taken off Coulson's team, she won't be going back to the lab. She'll be joining another team, somewhere else, somewhere he can't keep an eye on her and make sure she's safe. Can he really trust his soulmate's safety to another specialist—a specialist he won't even get to choose?

He shouldn't be worrying about this. He's known her for thirty seconds and he has plans, a purpose, that a soulmate will only get in the way of. He has his orders, and they have nothing to do with Jemma Simmons and the way she's staring up at him (way up, she's fucking tiny, and he actually finds it adorable, what the hell, no one told him finding your soulmate makes you lose your mind) with hope and shock and a little bit of tentative happiness.

But he spent six years carrying her on his wrist, keeping her as a beacon of hope, of possibility, and ten years mourning the loss of that beacon. The idea of her was a light in dark times, an extra bit of strength that got him through his worst moments. Looking down at this brilliant, beautiful woman…he wants her.

He wants to talk to her, to learn everything about her directly from the source instead of reading it in a file. He wants to tell her everything about himself, or at least everything that won't compromise his mission. He wants to find out if she really is his other half, if this woman who was raised in lecture halls and labs can understand a broken man like him.

He wants her here. He wants her beside him, within his sight, where he can protect her like he promised himself he would so long ago.

The sound of an approaching car pulls him out of his thoughts, and he tears his eyes away from his soulmate to see Coulson drive up in a classic Corvette. Behind him, he hears Fitz hurry over to stand next to Simmons.

"A specialist?" the engineer hisses. "Your soulmate is a bloody specialist?"

He doesn't hear Simmons' reply because he's focused on Coulson, who, after telling one of the ground crew not to touch 'Lola', turns to look at him. Coulson raises an eyebrow, and Grant realizes what a strange picture it must be, the three of them just standing in the cargo bay next to a pile of luggage.

"Something wrong, Agent Ward?" Coulson asks.

"Not…exactly, sir," Grant replies. He hesitates. He needs to get Coulson to agree to keep him and Simmons on the team together, but Coulson needs to think it was his idea. While there was actually a class at the Academy in how to handle meeting your soulmate for the first time on an undercover op, it unfortunately didn't include what to do when the undercover op involved acting as a sleeper agent within SHIELD itself. He has no idea how to play this.

"Fitzsimmons?" Coulson asks, looking to the scientists.

"Well, you see, sir," Simmons starts, then trails off. It's a little comforting to him that she's clearly just as out of her depth as he is. (Also, he likes her accent, which is just…such a stupid thing to notice about a woman.)

"Ward is Jemma's bloody soulmate!" Fitz interjects. He sounds angry, and Grant wonders at it.

"Huh," Coulson says, blinking a little. "I can't say I was expecting that."

"Yes, well," Simmons says. She tucks her hair behind her ear and clears her throat. "Shall Fitz and I pack our things then?"

"What?" Fitz asks. "What do you mean, pack our things? Suddenly you've—this was your idea in the first place!"

"I haven't changed my mind, Fitz," Simmons sighs, turning to face him again. "It's against protocol for soulmates to be on a field team together, you know that."

Fitz doesn't have a chance to do more than open his mouth before Coulson interrupts.

"I don't think that will be necessary," he says with a pleasant smile. "Why don't you two finish unpacking while Agent Ward joins me in my office?"

Grant nods and follows Coulson up the stairs. Coulson starts talking about his car as they journey through the plane, and Grant keeps one ear open as he examines his new base. For a plane, it's huge, but it'll feel cramped soon enough if he's expected to actually live in it. Still, he's slept in much, much, much worse places—a certain cave in the Hindu Kush comes to mind—and he can certainly work with this. If he gets the chance, that is.

It's up another staircase to Coulson's office, and Grant falls into parade rest as the man takes a seat behind his desk.

"So," Coulson says, folding his hands.

"Should I report back to base for new orders, sir?" Grant asks, deciding to take the reverse psychology route again. It worked the first time, after all, and he really has no other play. Threats and violence, his usual methods of getting what he wants, won't really work against a superior officer. And seduction's right out, for obvious reasons, even if his soulmate weren't right downstairs.

His soulmate. She's here.

"You're not getting out of this that easily, Agent Ward," Coulson says with a little smile. "You and Agent Simmons will both remain on the team."

"Sir, protocol—" Grant begins.

"We'll get an exemption," Coulson dismisses with a wave of his hand. "My reasons for selecting you and Fitzsimmons for this team remain. You're the best, and I want the best."

"Sir, I'm not sure how I feel about taking my soulmate into the field, especially if what Dr. Streiten said is true and she hasn't passed her field test."

"She hasn't," Coulson confirms. "But you'll manage."

Grant goes to protest again—can't be seen giving in too easily—but Coulson's raised hand stops him.

"Let me put it this way," Coulson says. "Would you rather go into the field with your untrained soulmate, or let her go with someone else—someone you don't know?"

Since that was pretty much exactly Grant's thought process, he really doesn't have an argument against it. He lets out a slow breath.

"Understood, sir," he says.

Coulson smiles. "I knew you'd see it my way," the man says cheerfully. He stands up and leads the way back downstairs.

In the lounge, they run into Melinda May.

"If you plan to unpack, make it quick," she says. "Wheels are up in five."

She hands Coulson a binder.

"We may have a hit on one of the Rising Tide's routing points," she tells him.

"Good," Coulson says. "We need to do some catching up."

May nods and walks away, while Grant turns back to Coulson.

"Is that…who I think it is?" he asks. He'd known from Garrett's files that the Calvary was going to be a part of this project, but…still. He'll really have to stay on his toes on this op.

(And if a small part of him feels grateful that the Calvary is around to watch his soulmate's back…well, he's deep cover. He's just getting into character.)

"She's just the pilot," Coulson tells him.

"Melinda May is…just the pilot," Grant echoes dubiously. "C'mon, sir. What game are you really playing?"

"Better stow your gear," Coulson says, flicking his eyes to the door behind Grant. Then he heads back up the stairs.

Grant turns and enters the bunk. It's small, cramped—but again, still miles above some of the other places he slept. Hell, it even has a mattress. He decides to leave unpacking for later. For the moment, he stows his duffle in a small compartment beside the door.

He feels the plane begin to move and takes a seat on the bed.

Jemma Simmons. His soulmate is an entirely loyal SHIELD agent. It answers two questions which have burned at him for years: it doesn't matter that he's a SHIELD agent, because so is she. And he doesn't have to wonder how she'll react if she finds out he's HYDRA, because he knows. The psych profile Garrett has on her is very clear on her moral conviction.

Still, there's absolutely no reason Simmons—Jemma—should ever know that he's HYDRA. As long as he does his job right, no one should ever know. HYDRA has hidden within SHIELD since its founding.

No one will know.

x

Once the plane reaches cruising altitude—which he is informed of by an alert popping up on the TV that hangs on the wall above the foot of his bed—he leaves his bunk. It's tempting to stay in there, sit and think and plan until they reach their destination, but he can't.

He needs to see Simmons. It feels like there's a cord wrapped around his heart, being tugged on every few seconds. Like he's tethered to her, now that he knows who she is, and the tether has stretched tight like a rubber band, about to snap if he doesn't go see her immediately.

He knows that the soulmate bond takes time to settle into place, but he hopes it happens quickly. It's not a pleasant sensation.

He finds her in the lab, with Fitz, back to arguing about the 'night-night gun' they'd been discussing when he first boarded the plane. Once again, they don't notice him when he enters. He's really going to have to work with them—or at least with Simmons—on situational awareness. He can't have her out in the field if she doesn't even notice when a highly trained operative is standing right behind her.

He knocks on a table to get their attention, and the argument cuts off abruptly as Simmons whirls to face him.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "Agent Ward—I—hello!"

"Hi," he says. He gives her his best non-threatening smile and hopes it doesn't come across as a grimace. That happens sometimes. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Yes," Simmons says. "That would be—I'd like that. Fitz, could you-?"

"Oh, fine," Fitz grouses, picking up a bag from the corner. "I'll just go set up my bunk then, shall I?" He gives Grant a suspicious look, then frowns at Simmons. "Shout if you need me, would you?"

"I will," Simmons assures him.

They watch Fitz leave, and then turn back to each other. It's a little awkward, honestly, and Grant, buoyed by the warmth that still fills him (this sensation is not uncomfortable, not like the tether, but it is distracting) decides to risk speaking first.

"So," he says. "Grant Ward. Nice to meet you."

"Jemma Simmons," she says with a little laugh. "The pleasure's mine."

They stand there for a moment, smiling at each other like idiots, before Simmons shakes her head.

"Here, would you like to have a seat?" she offers. She indicates the table behind him, which has a stool on either side.

"Sure," he says, realizing that she'll probably be more comfortable without him looming over her. He takes the stool on the far side of the table, and Simmons smiles at him as she sits down.

"So, Grant," she says carefully, like she's testing it.

"Jemma," he replies, and weirdly, he really likes it. He likes the way her name feels in his mouth, the way it sounds when he says it.

(Seriously. He's getting excited about saying her name. He has never in his life felt this ridiculous, not even that time he had to go undercover as a cybergoth.)

"I'm sorry," Simmons says, laughing a little. "I just…I have no idea what to say. I really wasn't expecting…"

"No," he agrees when she trails off. "Me neither." He hesitates for a moment, then says, "I get the feeling Fitz doesn't like me very much. Are you two…?"

"Oh! Oh, no," Simmons rushes to assure him. "We're strictly platonic, like siblings, really. He's just…protective of me, that's all."

Grant nods. "Good to know."

"Are you—I mean, do you have…?"

"No, there's no one," he promises. "I've never really had the time for anything more than…"

He trails off, not really willing to discuss his habit of one night stands with his soulmate.

"No, of course not," she agrees. "You're a busy man. A specialist."

"Is that a problem?" he asks.

"No," she says with a little smile. "They told me it was a possibility, actually, when my timer went blank. It's just…a lot to take in."

"You didn't know already?" he asks.

"Know what?"

"You said they told you it was a possibility. You didn't know that when your timer went blank?" he clarifies.

"Oh, I had no idea," she confirms. "It frightened me something awful, actually, when I looked down to see the numbers gone. I thought something terrible must have happened."

"I'm sorry," he tells her, feeling a little sick. Once he'd been told that his soulmate's timer would go blank instead of red, he'd never really given another thought to how she'd be effected by his timer's removal.

"It's alright," she assures him. "I was already at the Academy at the time, so when I went to my advisor she knew right away what it meant."

"The Academy, really?" he asks, faking surprise. "But you must've been, what, only sixteen?"

He can't be seen to know too much about her, after all. Grant Ward, loyal SHIELD agent, hasn't been given access to his new team's personnel files.

"Oh, yes," she says. "I was…well, not to sound arrogant, but I was something of a prodigy."

He uses this opening and steers the conversation to her education. After a brief (and extremely edited) recounting of his own time in military school, he keeps her talking about university and the Academy and her two PhDs.

This serves two purposes: one, it gets her more comfortable with him, and two, it gives him a legitimate knowledge of her background. He's found that it's always best, in undercover situations, to find a legitimate source for information which he's already been given. It lessens the chance of slipping up and revealing more than he's supposed to know.

She's in the middle of recounting a prank one of her classmates at the Academy had played to trick everyone into believing she was telekinetic when May comes on the intercom to warn them that they'll begin their descent in five, and Grant is wanted in the briefing room.

"I'm sorry," Simmons says, shaking her head. "I've rather been monopolizing the conversation, haven't I?"

"Nothing to be sorry for," Grant assures her. "I like hearing about you. I'd like to hear more."

"And I'd like to hear about you," she says. "But I suppose it will have to wait."

"It will," he agrees, standing. "So, I'll talk to you later then?"

"Later," Simmons nods. He feels her eyes follow him out of the lab, and can't deny that it gives him a thrill. (He has a serious problem.)

x

In the briefing, he learns that they're in Los Angeles, on the trail of a member of the Rising Tide—a hacker group which has made a habit of spilling SHIELD's secrets since the Battle of New York. The Rising Tide is also notable for being the group that interfered with his last mission, nearly screwing things up beyond recovery. SHIELD has managed to get a trace on one of the Rising Tide's routing points, and when he and Coulson follow the trace, it leads them to a van parked in an alley.

They bring the woman back to the Bus and take her into interrogation. He's more aggressive than he usually would be with a suspect like Skye, speaking to her derisively instead of with charm. Most of it is to give Coulson the impression that Grant still isn't entirely sold on the whole 'team' thing. A small part of it, however, is genuine annoyance—both at Skye for drawing him away from Simmons' side, and at the fact that, as they stand in the interrogation room (or 'Cage', apparently), Simmons is going into the field without him.

Coulson doesn't seem to pick up on that part of it, though, accusing him of being so anxious to get out of the assignment that he's deliberately blowing the interrogation. Which, although exactly the impression Grant wanted him to get, is still pretty insulting. Grant's been accused of a lot of things in his life—most of them true, even—but never a lack of professionalism.

Well. Maybe once. But still.

He's amused when he realizes Coulson intends to trick Skye into telling them the truth by pretending to inject Grant with truth serum. No one can say Coulson doesn't know how to think outside the box.

He knows he shouldn't, that it might draw Coulson's attention to the real cause of his irritation with Skye, but before they go back into the Cage, he can't help but ask, "Have we heard anything from Agent May, sir?"

Coulson looks amused and a little sympathetic, but not suspicious. Good.

"No," he says. "And we don't expect to, either. I'm sure she's fine."

Grant chooses to ignore the use of the word 'she' instead of 'they', and follows Coulson back into the Cage without comment.

x

May comes to 'wake' him about half an hour after his pretend share session with Skye, and once she fills him in, he heads to the lab.

Simmons is sitting at the counter in front of some kind of…something, wielding what looks (and sounds) suspiciously like a saw. (He absolutely does not think she looks adorable in her lab coat and safety glasses. Not even a little.) He keeps an eye on her as he watches Fitz run around, but has to leave the lab to get a good look at the reconstruction of the scene of the explosion.

They discover that the explosion originated from the angry man—originated in the sense of him actually physically exploding, likely due to the apparatus on his arm that was injecting him with Extremis—and every other known source of superpowers, according to Simmons.

It's easier than he thought it would be, interacting with her in a professional capacity. He spends the whole time resisting the urge to stand right next to her, to tuck her loose hair behind her ear, but other than that, there's no problem. He even manages to keep himself from reacting when Coulson yells at Simmons for saying there's no way to save Mike Peterson—it's a serious exercise in self-control, obviously, but he still manages it.

Of course, there's a big difference between having a professional exchange in the safety of their base and acting professionally when she's in the line of fire, but…one problem at a time.

Peterson grabs Skye, and they trace her hack to Union Station. Considering he's about to literally explode, this is not a good thing. They leave Simmons and Fitz working on a non-lethal solution and head to Union Station. Grant is, honestly, completely incredulous. He knows Coulson's reputation, of course, but to see it in action?

"Look at this place," Grant says as they approach the van. "You're gonna risk thousands of lives for some nobody?"

"Nobody's nobody, Ward," Coulson replies. "And have a little faith in your soulmate. Fitzsimmons will come through."

On a completely irrelevant note, Grant's not entirely sure how he feels about the way everyone automatically associates his soulmate with another man. Before, when Simmons was just a name that he knew by reputation of her brilliance, he thought the Fitzsimmons thing was kind of tacky. Now, it might be a little annoying.

(Seriously, why didn't anyone warn him that he would lose his mind as soon as he met his soulmate?)

Predictably, Peterson doesn't react well to the polite approach. He heads into Union Station with Skye and a little boy—presumably his son—and Grant gives chase. As he circles around to try to get in front of them, he notes the way Skye causes a distraction to get herself and the kid away from the obviously unstable Peterson and is reluctantly impressed. It's pretty quick thinking for a civilian.

The 'inform-him-he's-about-to-explode' approach doesn't do much good, either, and Grant gets thrown pretty hard to the ground after breaking a glass display case with his back. He's definitely going to be feeling that one tomorrow. Between that, the fight over the Chitauri neural link a few days ago, and the uncomfortable pull of the soul bond on his heart, he's glad to accept Coulson's order to stay high.

He'll admit, if only to himself, to being a little moved by Peterson's speech. Despite himself, he's even a little relieved when Fitz appears with a silver rifle that he claims will put Peterson down without killing him.

He's even more relieved when he sees Simmons run forward, and the smile on her face after she checks on Peterson. It shouldn't matter so much—if they're going to be going into the field together, it's a pretty good bet that she'll see him kill someone someday. He can't help but be glad that it's not today, though.

x

Back at the Bus, eating Chinese and drinking beer with Simmons and Fitz, Grant feels something approaching contentment. He'd be happier if Fitz had gone with Coulson and Skye to drop Peterson's son off, leaving him alone with Simmons, but this is good enough. He'll obviously have to get used to Fitz, anyway, if he hopes to have anything with Simmons.

In this moment, sitting next to his soulmate, close enough that their shoulders brush every time he picks up his beer, absolutely nothing can bring him down.

His life being what it is, of course, an alert pops up on the laptop he's been using to write his report of the Union Station incident as soon as he has that thought.

"What is it?" Simmons asks, leaning forward to see the screen better. Grant absolutely does not inhale the scent of her shampoo.

"New assignment," he says, reading the alert. "An 0-8-4."

"Really?" Fitz asks, leaning over his other shoulder. "Are they sure?"

"They want us to confirm it," Grant says as he pulls out his phone. "I'll call Coulson. You alert May—we're headed for Peru."

Fitz nods and heads towards the cockpit as Grant makes the call to Coulson.

"Peru," Simmons muses once he hangs up. "That's a long flight."

"It is," Grant agrees.

"Enough time for a good talk?" she suggests with a playful smile.

It's good to know that she's just as eager as he is to spend time together. It makes him feel a little less pathetic that his heart actually skipped a fucking beat at the sight of her smile. Only a little, though.

He jerks his head towards the bar. "Can I buy you another drink to go with that talk?" he asks.

"Sounds good," she says, and if he takes her hand in his as they make the (incredibly short) walk to the bar…well. No one needs to know.