A/N: anonymous said: "Where we have Grant discovering Hydra!Jemma - Grant could be hydra, shield, etc"
After Coulson is rescued—after the twenty rounds of debriefing are complete—the team is put on downtime.
Coulson's injuries are severe enough that it will be weeks before he's fit to return to active duty—as are Grant's, for that matter. Which means that it will be weeks before the team can return to active duty. There's no reason to keep them closed up on the Bus doing paperwork while Coulson recuperates, so they're ordered to return in January and dismissed to go their separate ways.
Grant doesn't bother to stick around long enough to learn what the rest of the team's plans are. He grabs his go-bag, gives his goodbyes, and catches a SHIELD transport to the nearest airport. Three commercial planes and a private jet later, he's walking through the front door of one of his safehouses.
It's a relief. He's been undercover this long before—longer, even—but it never gets any easier. Or, well, not easier—undercover work really isn't a hardship for him—but less annoying, maybe. No matter how good he is at pretending to be someone else—and he is very, very good—it still wears on him. Wearing another persona like a coat tends to itch, after a while.
Especially this persona. The loyal SHIELD agent version of him is uptight and mostly humorless, and Grant thinks he might actually have strained something in his face from all of the frowning he's been doing recently. He's been able to lighten up a little in the past month, acting like he's starting to warm up to the team, but still.
Usually he can find some fun in his covers, but the one he's been using for the past few months is just a drag.
Of course, he's been playing it for years—since he started at the Academy, basically—but that's where the frequent undercover work he's done has come in handy. He's been able to shed the Agent of SHIELD cover on a fairly regular basis in order to adopt other covers, which has kept it from getting to him too much.
Not so this time. It's been a long, unbroken stretch of pretending to be morally solid and socially awkward, and he is, quite frankly, sick of it.
He's got four weeks before he has to adopt that cover again, and he's giving serious thought to spending the whole time right here in this safehouse. He might leave once or twice to go into the city and find some food or alcohol and maybe even some meaningless sex (it's been way too long), but otherwise, he thinks he'll stick close to home, where he doesn't need a cover.
Unfortunately, it's not to be. He's barely stretched out on the couch when the phone rings, and he groans. John's the only person who has the number, so it must be him.
Hoping he's not about to have to defend his recent actions (saving Coulson was admittedly counter-productive, but such is the nature of deep cover work), he stretches to grab the phone off the end table and answers it without sitting up.
"Yeah?"
"Grant," John greets him brightly. "How are you, son?"
"Exhausted," he says pointedly. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna need you to come in," John says. "Sorry."
Grant doesn't bother mentioning how not sorry John sounds. He sits up and scrubs his good hand over his face. He doesn't even remember the last time he slept—between the frantic three day search for Coulson, the debriefing, his inability to sleep on public transport, and the fact that he flew himself for the last leg of his journey here…well, it's been a long time.
"Can it wait?" he asks.
"You can have a few days," John allows. "But I'll need you in Maribor by Monday."
He pauses. There's no SHIELD base in Maribor, but there is a HYDRA one. If he's being called to it…
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, fine," John says. "But I've just learned something very interesting." Grant can hear the smirk in his voice. "You're gonna love this."
"Do I get a hint?" he asks, without much hope. He knows how John loves his games.
"No, this is the kind of news that should be shared in person," John says. "But trust me. It's worth the trip."
"Right," Grant sighs. He digs his sat phone out of his bag, just to check the date on the display, because he's entirely lost track at this point. "I'll be there in three days, then."
"Good man," John approves. "See you then."
"Yeah."
Grant hangs up and tosses both phones onto the end table, then collapses back onto the couch.
So much for vacation.
x
Three days later, he walks through the front door of the Maribor base at 0800. John's waiting for him in the lobby, and he greets him with a grin.
"Good to see you, son," he says, clapping Grant on the arm. "How've you been?"
"Would've been better without the gunshot," he answers, rolling his shoulder. "A sniper, John? Really?"
"Hey, you may be the best one I've got, but you're not the only one," John laughs. "And you have to admit it was a great shot."
It was. Perfectly placed, in fact—to inconvenience and pain him without doing any permanent, significant damage. It's not easy to avoid causing long-term injury with a gunshot to the shoulder, so Grant does appreciate the effort that had to go into it. The sniper shot he took on the bridge when Coulson was kidnapped was deliberate and well-aimed.
It still hurts like a bitch, though.
"Anyway, enough chatter," John says. "Let me show you what you're here to see."
"See?" he asks as he falls into step with John. "I thought you got new intel."
"I did," John agrees. He leads Grant over to the elevators and hits the button to summon the car. "And I could tell you, but it's probably better if you see it with your own eyes."
"Well, now you're starting to worry me," Grant says. It's not as much of a joke as his tone would suggest.
"Oh, it's nothing bad," John promises. "It's just…well, it's a doozy."
That's…kind of ominous, actually.
"Anyway, enough about this," John says. "You'll see when we get there. In the meantime—tell me what you know about this hacker of Coulson's."
He knows it's no use trying to get anything else out of John—once he declares a topic closed, it's closed. And if there's one thing Grant's good at (aside from violence and espionage, that is) it's patience. He'll find out what this is about soon enough.
So he obediently fills John in on Skye as they take the elevator up to the fifth floor, and as John leads the way through the labyrinthine halls. John's interest isn't particularly surprising—Skye is the only member of the team they don't have a full background and psych work-up on. She's the only real variable, and that makes her a threat, especially since she seems to have taken on the role of Coulson's protégé.
He's just finishing his report as they reach their apparent destination—the labs—and his voice dies on him midsentence, because his eyes immediately catch on what John obviously brought him here to see.
"No way."
"Yeah," John says, patting him on his good shoulder. "It shocked me, too."
Grant stares through the glass wall as Jemma Simmons bustles around the lab. She's obviously comfortable here—here, in the middle of a HYDRA base—moving around the room and fetching things from cabinets with an ease that speaks of familiarity with the lab's set up. She's displaying no hesitation and no signs of duress.
Which means she's here willingly. Which means…
"Simmons is HYDRA?" he asks. "Seriously?"
He's beyond stunned, but he's also really impressed, because he had no idea. He never even suspected that Simmons was anything less than entirely SHIELD loyal.
She's good.
"Yep," John grins. "Seriously. Told you it was a doozy."
"It wasn't in her file," Grant says, still watching her. She's reading something on a monitor, brow furrowed in concentration, and for the first time since meeting her, he doesn't force himself to put aside how attractive he finds her.
They're on the same side. It presents some…interesting possibilities.
"She's in the science division," John says. "We didn't know." He chuckles ruefully. "You know what they say about too many heads."
Grant finally looks away from Simmons to raise an eyebrow at John. "Was that a hydra joke?"
"Couldn't resist," John shrugs, unapologetic. "It was too perfect." He claps his hands. "So, you gonna go say hi?"
"You know," he muses, looking back through the windows. "I think I will."
"Great!" John says. "I'll leave you to it, then. I'll be on fifteen when you're done."
"Understood," Grant says, and enters the lab as John walks away.
"I'll be with you in a moment," Simmons says, attention still focused on the monitor. "I'm nearly finished."
"That's okay," he says, and watches with amusement as she freezes. "I can wait."
She spins to face him, eyes wide. They quickly narrow, and he can practically see her mind working as she looks him over—taking in his casual clothes and relaxed posture. He can see the moment she determines that he's not a prisoner here any more than she is.
"Ward," she greets him calmly. "You're HYDRA?"
"Yep," he says. "And so are you."
"Yes," she agrees. She frowns at him. "You might have said."
"I didn't know," he admits easily. "The file I got on you before the assignment didn't mention your allegiance."
"Well," she says. "That was certainly sloppy of someone, wasn't it?"
"That's one word for it," he says. "Fitz?"
"Entirely SHIELD," she answers, tone slightly mournful. "I've attempted to recruit him, but…well. He's not suited for this work, I'm afraid."
"I would've said the same about you," he says, watching her face. "You're a much better liar than I thought."
"Oh, no," she disagrees. "I'm a terrible liar. It's just a matter of…remembering my lines, so to speak." She smiles. "And, luckily, when I slip, people assume that it's simply my scientific curiosity getting the best of me."
Now that she mentions it, he does remember a few times that she's said something to give him pause. And, like she says, he always dismissed it as her enthusiasm getting ahead of her mouth.
She really is good.
"So what's your play?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why are you on Coulson's team?" he clarifies. It can't be that she was assigned to discover the secret of Coulson's resurrection, as he was. HYDRA missing that two of their agents are on the same team? Unlikely, but apparently possible. HYDRA missing that two of their agents were given the same mission? No way.
"Ah," she says. "I don't…actually have one."
"Really," he says flatly. "Because the way I heard it, it was your idea to leave the lab, not Fitz's."
"Oh, it was," she confirms. "What I meant was, I don't have a specific goal. The aim was to get me out of the lab, not on the team." She makes a vague gesture towards the computer. "SHIELD assigned me to work on finding a counter for a particular chemical weapon which HYDRA does not want neutralized. I could hardly refuse to work on it, so HYDRA saw to it that I was transferred into the field and the assignment given to someone less…capable than I."
"Makes sense," he says. "Though, they could've found you something a little less dangerous."
"Oh, it's not been so bad," she says. "Actually, it's been quite fun, getting out into the field for once." Her attention is drawn back to her computer when it beeps, and she continues in a slightly distracted tone as she taps at the keyboard. "What about you? What brings you to Coulson's team?"
He hesitates. Just because they're on the same side (technically, at least; he's always been more concerned with Garrett than HYDRA itself) doesn't necessarily mean he can trust her with his orders. One word to the wrong person, intentionally or not, and she could blow the whole op.
But she's a genius, and it's not like his mission is all that hard to guess. She'll probably figure it out even if he doesn't tell her.
And Garrett brought him here for a reason. He could have just as easily told Grant about Simmons, instead of bringing him all the way to Maribor to see her with her own eyes—and, more importantly, be seen by her. Knowing that Simmons was HYDRA when she didn't know the same of him would have been an advantage; Garrett wouldn't have him give it up without a good reason.
"Coulson," he says finally. "I was put on the team to find out how he survived New York."
She turns away from the computer to frown at him. "Is it that much of a mystery? Resuscitation a few seconds after death isn't that unusual. What makes Coulson so special?"
"He wasn't dead for a few seconds," he answers, after the briefest hesitation. "His heart was torn completely in half when he was stabbed. He was dead for days."
"That's not possible," she says flatly. "It's—it's completely beyond all medical…"
"Yeah," he says, as she trails off into a frustrated gesture. "Hence my orders to figure out how it is he's up and walking around."
She stares at him for a long moment, gauging his sincerity. He spreads his hands innocently, and she shakes her head, apparently accepting it.
"Remarkable," she mutters, and turns back to her computer. "Although it certainly explains Centi…"
She trails off again, staring at the computer screen, but he's pretty sure she's not seeing it. Again, he can almost see her mind making connections, taking the tiniest pieces of the puzzle and building the whole picture from them.
It's…really hot.
He's always thought so, has enjoyed watching her think her way through the scientific aspects of the various cases they've gotten over the last three months, but knowing they're on the same side makes it even better. He can stand here and appreciate the way her brow furrows, the way her fingers tap absently on the counter as though keeping time with her thoughts, without forcing himself to set his attraction aside as a never-gonna-happen.
Finally, she turns to face him again.
"You're with Centipede," she says, with quiet certainty. "Aren't you?"
"Guilty," he shrugs. He scans her face, evaluating her reaction. "Is that a problem?"
"Centipede intends to determine by what means Coulson was brought back to life so that it can use the same procedures on its soldiers, does it not?" she asks, ignoring the question. "Thus giving HYDRA an entire army of super-soldiers who are essentially immortal."
"Pretty much," he says. There's no need to bring his own, more personal, investment in the assignment. "So? Do we have a problem?"
"Not at all," she says. "Although I would like a word with whoever decided that the best way to resolve the Centipede serum's explosive side effects was to extract a pyrokinetic's platelets, I'm assuming that wasn't your call."
"No," he agrees, amused. "I wasn't consulted on that." He leans against the nearest lab table and crosses his arms, ignoring the painful pull in his shoulder. "I take it you disapprove?"
"Although apparently effective, it was an inelegant solution," she sniffs. "Given half the chance—and an uncorrupted sample of the serum—I'm sure I could have done much better."
"Of course you could," he says, barely holding back a smile. He doesn't doubt it, after some of the miracles he's seen her pull off, but that fact that her sensibilities have been offended by the manner in which Centipede's scientists solved the problem of soldiers exploding…
It's cute. She's cute. He likes this version of Simmons even better than the one he's been working with.
He wants her. He's wanted her for months. He's wanted her since the day they met, when she shoved a swab in his mouth without so much as a 'please' and then asked if he was excited about their journey into mystery, for Christ's sake. And now it turns out that the only reason he had for not pursuing her—namely, their conflicting loyalties—doesn't actually exist.
There's no reason not to make a move. But he thinks he should give it some time, get a feel for what she thinks of him—the real him, not the boring cover he's been wearing around her. And the best way to do that is to spend time with her. Luckily, he's got an excellent excuse to do so.
"You know," he says. "Chances are, whatever they used to bring Coulson back is going to go way over my head. I might not even know it if I see it."
She tilts her head, scrutinizing him. "Agent Ward, are you asking for my help in completing your mission?"
"I am," he admits easily. "Are you accepting?"
"Yes," she says. "I believe I am." She gives him one of her bright, lovely smiles. "It should be fun, don't you think?"
"Yeah," he says, and watches her turn back to her computer once more. "I'm sure it will."