Summary:
I wrote this chapter, and the following five, mainly because I desired so much an "our time" for Skye and Ward (not Daisy and Hive!) during the third season, but I never got that. I hoped they would have it on Maveth, something similar to Jemma and Will, but instead… nothing, of nothing, of nothing!
So I WROTE it!
Comments are greatly appreciated: please, let me know what you think!
Chapter:
Being able to remain alone revealed easiest to be said than done.
She had to run and hide for two whole months, changing continuously location, after her headshots about the clinics…
Shield was on her ass, and SAP too: they were using their entire set of means and technologies to find and capture her.
She had to be extremely careful in using her powers, because Shield was monitoring continuously all the earthquakes, even the weakest ones, to find the most suspicious, and a pattern to follow.
In the end she tried not to use her powers at all anymore: it was too dangerous.
She was getting used to a more normal, common life.
She established herself in a little town lost in the mountains, with less than a thousand inhabitants. There she found a work as a waitress in a pub. With what she earned, she could pay the rent for a little apartment in which she took shelter whenever she wasn't at work.
She was getting back to herself.
It was like a dream come true, a desire that she hadn't realized she was dreaming: no more missions, no more danger, no more killings, no more orders, no more Coulson and May to please and obey at any cost!
Life was simple, clear, uncomplicated.
Ok.
She was alone now…
But, for the first time in her life, that sensation didn't bother her.
Screw all that need for connection, for belonging!
She was at last connected with herself!
And she belonged to herself and herself alone!
She was starting to become herself again!
And she was aware of the change, so that the name she gave wasn't Daisy: it was Skye.
She was extremely attractive, so it often happened that someone of the pub's customers tried to strike a conversation with her, but she remained vague and detached. And if they tried more convincing tactics, she was more than able to put them back in their place!
She didn't need to use her powers, for that: May taught her well!
…
One very busy Saturday night she noticed a stranger, among the crowd of all the local customers: a dark man sitting on the most obscure booth of the pub.
For sure he was well built: large shoulders, muscular arms that almost tore his shirtsleeves, tall, long legs, wide hands… He had dark hair, a beard more than a stubble, a baseball hat and a pair of dark aviators sunglasses on. How he could be able to see anything in the dark with that pair of glasses, it was a mystery, indeed!
His face was hidden in the dark, so she couldn't grasp his features… but something was familiar in him.
Something warm, indefinable was attracting her, pulling her towards him, almost magnetically.
He was nursing a beer, so someone must have served him.
She started approaching him, but then another customer needed her attention.
When she was back, the stranger was gone, the booth empty and a generous amount of money on the table.
Strange.
Very strange.
…
That night she dreamed.
She never dreamed, or at least she never remembered it.
But that night she properly dreamed.
And that was the most beautiful dream she ever had.
…
She was on a plane.
She was sitting in the cargo hold in her tactical gear and was staring at a man sitting on the floor, legs bent, dark haired, bare-chested and shackled to the side of the plane. She couldn't see his face, because he was probably sleeping, and his head was dangling low, lolling from one side to the other.
His wrists were flushed, because the chains were cutting into his skin, having to sustain the weight of the half upper part of his body.
She was wondering whom he could be, when a jolt made him wake up.
He grunted and shacked his head, as to emerge from sleep, and raised his head.
She immediately recognized him: he was Ward in the flesh!
She couldn't believe her eyes and remained openmouthedly staring at him.
He was the first who hoarsely spoke:
"Hey, Skye!
Nice to see you again!"
"What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"Don't try to fool me! I don't even know where we are, exactly, nor how we arrived here!"
"I suppose we are on a plane headed to some survivor Hydra base. Judging from the noise of water beneath us, we are flying very low, near the surface of the ocean, probably to avoid radars."
"And why your friends would put you in chains?"
"Because they are not my friends anymore, of course.
After all that mess with Malick I will have to work hard to regain their trust…"
"Nice try, Ward. But you will not frame me again."
"Think what you want.
I don't care."
And some time passed without any word exchanged, only embarrassed glances to each other from the both of them, trying in the meanwhile to avoid getting caught.
Then he spoke:
"Can I ask you a favor?"
"This is funny, coming from you.
But tell me."
"I'm thirsty.
Like, desert thirsty.
Can you bring me some water, please?
There's a little fridge down there…" he said, nodding to his left.
"Since you've asked politely…" and she went to the fridge, grabbing a bottle and handing it to him.
But then he was visibly embarrassed: he couldn't drink alone, due to the chains.
She huffed, uncorked the bottle and approached him, kneeling down and resting one hand on the floor.
Then she accosted the bottle to his mouth and he started drinking, feverishly, letting some drops escape his mouth...
The two of them were only inches apart…
He closed his eyes, because the pleasure of the cold water in his throat was so good!
Oh, he was so terribly thirsty!
On the other hand, Skye was bewitched by the vision of his designed lips sucking from the bottle, his stubble covered cheeks, his hair spiking in every direction and falling in spare locks on his forehead, his long lashes more noticeable with his eyes closed, his Adam's apple moving up and down, the bottle moving in her hand pushed rhythmically by his mouth, the water droplets streaming down his sunburnt neck and chest…
… she wondered how it would feel like licking those droplets…
He suddenly opened his eyes and watched her intently, like he perceived what she was imagining, and she blushed fiercely, looking immediately away.
Why had he to be so damn handsome, even in such a rough situation?
Indeed, the fact that he was so dirty… and restrained… and helpless… made the bastard even more attractive, like she felt the need to take care of him, or… like she felt to be able to do to him whatever she wanted…
The bottle had been emptied quickly, so there was no reason for her to remain close to him: she straightened up, but fell immediately after, because an explosion hit the plane, making everything shake around them.
"We have been hit!
We are going to fall in the ocean and sink down!
Quick!
Go and grab the keys for my shackles!
We need to escape before it is too late!" Ward yelled.
She ran, grabbed the keys and freed him.
He immediately bolted towards the tailgate and opened it.
"We are almost falling in the ocean!
We have to jump!
Immediately!"
He grabbed her hand and they jumped together in the water.
The freshness of the ocean was fantastic, but they had to emerge quickly to breathe.
After a few seconds, they saw the plane falling in the ocean, the impact causing a terrible explosion.
Now the two of them were alone, in that vast expanse of water…
She spoke, panting:
"Ward, I cannot swim with this boots!
Please, help me get rid of them!
I'm drowning!"
He immediately plunged underwater, unfastened the laces and freed her feet from boots and socks.
Emerging from the water sputtering, he found she gratefully looking at him.
"What are we supposed to do, now? We are in the middle of the ocean!" she asked.
"I caught a glimpse of an island, not far from here, in that direction" and he pointed towards south.
"We have to swim until we reach it. Come on!"
"Oh, my God!
I'm not sure I can do that!
I'm not such a good swimmer!" said Skye, alarmed.
"It's that or dying, so steel yourself and follow me!
I'll help you."
So the two of them started swimming in an ocean fortunately calm and flat as a board.
But the hours were passing by and the island seemed still so far…
Moreover darkness was engulfing them and they couldn't any more distinguish the water from the sky…
Skye was starting to be awfully tired and feeling hope abandoning her.
"Ward, go on without me!
I cannot swim anymore!
I'm too tired!"
"Not a chance!
We will reach that island together and alive, if it is the last thing I do!"
But she was fainting and he had to grab her by the throat, dragging her along with him towards the island: it was a superhuman effort, but at the end, he managed to pull her on the shore.
He was half dead from fatigue, but also half alive from the joy of being both safe!
He fell near her, with his left arm circling her belly, for good measure, he prone, and she supine.
That night he would not permit to anyone or anything to separate them!