A/N: Okay everyone, we are getting to the height of the action here. At the max, there will be five more chapters after this just to finish the action and wrap up some details.

One question - should I do one more Fitz/Skye chapter before I end it, or would that seem out of place?

Enjoy!

Sneaking onto the Bus before lift-off was surprisingly easy. They had arrived at the Bus (after speeding dangerously) just in time to see Ward and Coulson board and the ramp close after them. However, the plane hadn't fired up and it was obvious that lift-off wasn't imminent, so they just walked around to the side and climbed in one of the rarely-used regular doors.

Once they were inside, they hid in the nearest bathroom, figuring that Ward wouldn't stop his rampage to check there. "Okay," Jemma started, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "The plan.

Fitz looked Jemma straight in the eyes. "You're the only one who can stop Ward. If he sees me or Skye first...well…" He didn't have to finish his sentence. They all knew what Ward was capable of, especially with Garrett pulling the strings. Neither of them would last very long.

"You're right, of course." Jemma took a deep breath and tried not to think about the consequences if she messed up the timing. "I have to find him before he hurts anyone." As soon as she said that, she bit her lip. "If he hasn't already."

Fitz and Skye also looked pained. They had no idea if Ward had killed Coulson already, and that scared all of them.

"After yo-..." Skye was cut off as the plane roared to life and abruptly took off, sending the three of them careening against the wall hard enough that Jemma felt her arm nearly go numb. She was going to be bruised later, she was sure.

"Everyone okay?" Fitz demanded, his arm protectively around Skye as soon as the aircraft steadied.

"I'm fine."

"Me too."

"It looks like Ward might have control of the plane already," Fitz voiced what they were all thinking. "We need to move."

Jemma thought quickly. She couldn't risk her friend's lives by allowing them to come with her. "You two go check on Coulson and get the parachutes ready in case...in case I'm too late. Don't wait, just go."

No one commented on the fact that she had assumed that Coulson was still alive, even though it was unlikely. Ward wouldn't have left survivors who could escape - he was very thorough.

"What do you mean 'in case you're too late?'" Skye demanded, her eyes widening.

"Just do it." Jemma yanked the door open and left the bathroom before Skye could probe further, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She couldn't explain it to her; it was too painful to think about. But she knew Ward better than anyone. Once his mission was completed, there were only two options. He could parachute off the plane and leave it to crash; or, he could kill himself and ensure that Garrett no longer needed leverage to control him. Jemma was terrified that he would pick the second option.

She was approaching the cockpit. Despite the need to hurry, she found her steps dragging as the door came closer and closer. What would she find in there?

The worst case scenario came to mind. May, lying lifeless in a pool of her own blood, a bullet wound in her stomach. Grant slumped over in the pilot's chair, looking almost alive except for his pale skin and the fact that he wasn't breathing. The plane on a crash course that she didn't know how to stop.

Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, she focused on the discomfort and forced the image out of her mind. She had to believe that she was going to get there in time to prevent a disaster. She had to.

The door loomed in front of her, menacing. With a shaky breath, Jemma opened it.

No one was dead. That was the first thing she noticed, and with that realization came so much relief that her knees went weak and she almost fell over.

The scene in front of her eyes still wasn't ideal, but it was salvageable. Grant was standing with his back to her, just out of arm's reach. His fists were up in the ready position and she could see that his knuckles were scraped and bloody. However, what she could see of May looked even worse. Her black hair hung in strings, clumped together by sweat or blood, Jemma couldn't tell. Her nose was bleeding badly and there were already bruises developing on her cheeks. When the door opened, her eyes flicked over to meet Jemma's, suddenly displaying something similar to relief.

In the corner of Jemma's vision, under the side of the console, there was a gun. The sight of that was a relief as well - no one was shooting anyone. No one was dead.

"...nothing I can do." The words came out of Ward's mouth, cold and impersonal. "I'm sorry."

"You're going to be much sorrier," May responded with a twitch of her lips that wasn't quite a smile. "Look behind you."

"Really, May? Resorting to cheap tricks?"

"Grant," Jemma finally managed to choke out. "Stop. Please."

Every muscle in his back tensed up in an interesting manner, but Jemma didn't have time to appreciate the sight. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he turned around. The sight of her seemed to stun him. He stood there, motionless, staring at her, confusion and relief struggling across his face. "Jemma?" he breathed.

She broke out into a relieved smile and flew into his arms. "I'm safe."

Out of reflex, he caught her against himself and held her tightly. "I was so worried," he muttered against her hair. "But how?"

"Doesn't matter." She pulled back slightly so she could see his reaction. He still seemed stunned, but now he was smiling as well.

"I missed you," he complained in a low voice that nearly made her blood boil.

Playfully, she raised her eyebrows and said, "I don't believe you."

"No?" Leaning into her, he brushed his lips against hers in a feathery-light touch that made her shiver, then leaned his forehead against hers. "Believe me now?"

She shook her head, fully aware that she had a dazed expression on her face. "Still no."

Grant chuckled, then crushed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer to him, but nothing felt close enough. Her hands came up to wrap around his neck as she moaned in pleasure.

"Ahem."

The sound made them break apart guiltily. Caught up in the moment, they had both forgotten May completely. Jemma's hand flew to her hair, trying futilely to tame the flyaway strands from Grant's touch.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat and ran his hand across his face, trying to gain his composure.

"We still have to deal with Garrett," May reminded them.

Ward's voice changed to cold and threatening, exactly the opposite feeling of their passionate kiss. "Garrett's mine."

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