A/N: This chapter gave me a lot of trouble! Eye Spy is one of my least favorite episodes, and I think it shows. Once again, thank you for all of your comments and kudos! It means a lot, and it's great motivation, so please keep it up! :)
Thanks for reading, and, as always, please be gentle if you review!
Grant doesn't actually have a lot of day-to-day responsibilities, as far as the team goes. He's got a lot to do in the field, of course, but when they're not on an op? He's responsible for the upkeep of the various armories they've got scattered throughout the plane, but that's not an every day job—he's already worked out a rotation that will allow every weapon to be cleaned once every two months, which is actually a little more frequent than necessary. He's responsible for Skye's training, obviously—which is going better now that she's taking it a little more seriously—but it's only a few hours in the morning and a few hours in the evening. Basically, if they're not on an op, he spends a lot of time cooling his heels.
So he's taken to hanging around the lab. He'll bring one of his books down and park himself in a corner with it. Jemma and Fitz have a habit of treating him like he's their lab assistant, but he doesn't really mind. It means doing a lot of grunt work—lots of fetching and carrying and getting things from the top shelves—but it gives him something to do.
On Tuesday, once he's showered off the sweat from his morning training, he goes down to the lab and finds the so-called 'night-night' rifle lying on one of the tables.
"Haven't seen this in a while," he says to Jemma. Namely, he hasn't seen it since he used it to shoot Mike Peterson, the very first day of this assignment.
"Hmm?" she asks, pulling away from her microscope and following his gaze. "Oh, yes. Fitz has nearly finished the night-night pistol. He's built a prototype now, so he wanted the rifle for comparison purposes."
Grant considers this. "Define 'nearly'."
"There have been a few problems with the mag," she tells him. "But I expect he'll have them sorted by dinner time."
He nods, pleased. "Good. That kind of weapon will definitely come in handy. But we're still not calling it the 'night-night' pistol."
"I'm afraid you'll need to take that up with Fitz," she says, turning back to her microscope. "I've not been able to change his mind."
"I'm confident in my ability to make him see reason," he assures her. He knows Fitz is intimidated by him, and he's entirely willing to take advantage of that. "In the meantime, do you need anything from the top shelf?"
"No, thank you."
"Then I'll be over here with my book," he tells her, taking a chair in the corner of the lab. "Let me know if anything's about to explode."
"That only happened once," she says distractedly.
"Twice," he corrects.
She waves a hand at him dismissively, obviously focused on her work, and he smiles to himself. He never thought he'd find it funny to be ignored by his soulmate, but then, there were a lot of things he never expected. He settles himself in his chair and opens his book, Myrer's Once an Eagle, to the bookmark.
Even if Garrett's plan miserably fails and they don't find out anything about Coulson's resurrection, he'll at least be happy to know that Grant's finally making his way down that list of required reading.
Fitz comes into the lab from the storage area nearly twenty minutes later.
"How's the pistol coming?" Grant asks him.
Fitz grumbles something uncomplimentary about Grant's ability to comprehend his work, which Grant takes to mean 'not well'. He smirks to himself and returns to his book.
Several hours pass in peace and, mostly, quiet. Jemma and Fitz have a brief debate about the dendrotoxin rounds for the night-night pistol, and Jemma has a habit of talking to herself as she works, but aside from that, there's very little conversation in the lab.
Coulson comes into the lab around lunchtime.
"You seen Skye?" he asks Grant.
"Not since weapons training," Grant answers.
"She stopped saying 'bang' when she pulls the trigger?"
"Mostly," Grant says. "Now if she can just learn the difference between the safety release and the magazine release, we'll be making real progress."
Coulson nods to himself.
"FitzSimmons," he says. The two scientists turn away from their work. "Yesterday, millions of dollars in diamonds were stolen in Sweden. It's the third major diamond heist this month. The brokers hired more than twenty men to transport empty briefcases, trying to hide the case carrying the diamonds. All of the men were killed in the Stockholm subway and the diamonds were taken. The CCTV cameras were dark during the attack—I need you to see if you can get anything from them. Trace the hack if you can."
"Yes, sir," Jemma says.
"On it," Fitz says over her.
"Ward, with me."
Grant stands and follows Coulson into the cargo bay.
"I'm going to take Skye and May to the scene. In the meantime, I need you to run facial rec with customs, border patrol, outgoing flights and trains. I think we're looking for a former SHIELD agent named Akela Amador. I already have her file pulled up on the computer in the briefing room."
"Right away, sir."
"And Ward?" Coulson says before Grant can leave. "Keep this quiet for now."
"Yes, sir," Grant agrees. He doesn't allow his confusion to show on his face as he heads up to the briefing room. It's an odd request in more ways than one. Presumably, Coulson means that Grant is supposed to keep it from the rest of the team—why else would he call Grant out into the cargo bay instead of just telling him in the lab? But why does it need to be kept quiet?
He'd assume it were an issue of clearance levels, if it weren't Coulson he's dealing with. The man has proven to be strangely lax in the area of protocol.
When he pulls up Amador's file, things become a little clearer. The file lists her as killed in action in 2007. It also lists Coulson as her training officer. So it's probably not just the team that Grant's supposed to keep this from. If Grant finds evidence of Amador's involvement, protocol says that he should immediately contact HQ to report a rogue agent.
Of course, the question is whether he should obey protocol or Coulson. On the one hand, going against Coulson's orders won't do much for the tentative trust he shares with the man—trust which is an important part of Garrett's plan. On the other hand, Coulson's personal connection to Amador might be clouding his judgment, which could put the team—put Jemma—at risk.
He taps his fingers thoughtfully on the table, then shakes his head. There's no point in worrying about it before Amador's involvement is confirmed.
It takes more than an hour, but eventually, with the help of facial rec, he's able to track Amador's movements. She left Sweden on a Swedish passport—under a false name, obviously—flew into Belarus, and then bought a train ticket, destination Zloda. Zloda isn't a very large city, and there's not much there. It seems like an odd choice.
Coulson isn't back yet, so Grant takes the opportunity to consult the SHIELD database for information on people who might be able to fence such a large haul. Once he has the list, he examines their phone records and email accounts—already helpfully hacked by someone in SHIELD communications—and finds nothing to indicate that they've been contacted by Amador. Additionally, none of them live within what he would consider a workable distance from Zloda.
So what the hell is she doing there?
Officially out of leads to follow, he considers the information on screen. Amador's highly trained, somehow pulling off impossible heists, and she's in possession of millions of dollars in diamonds. She's a very clear threat. So should he follow protocol and alert HQ? Or should he back Coulson's play, whatever that might be?
He can't afford to alienate Coulson. He'll have to trust that the senior agent has a plan.
That decided, he's considering getting some lunch when Coulson, May, and Skye return. They don't come into the briefing room, instead heading for the stairs up to Coulson's office, but Coulson pauses to give Grant a questioning look. Grant nods, and a pained expression flickers over Coulson's face before he follows May up stairs. Grant decides to wait on lunch. He's sure it won't be long before Coulson's back and wanting an update.
Sure enough, it's only twenty minutes later that all three of them are coming back down. They walk around the outside of the briefing room instead of coming in through the door next to the stairs, and Grant watches them through the windows. Coulson's obviously filling them in, and May doesn't look happy. She and Skye linger outside for a moment after Coulson enters the briefing room, and Grant takes it he's not the only one having doubts about Coulson's unusual reticence.
Instead of questioning him, Grant fills Coulson, May, and Skye in on what he discovered.
"Let's focus on finding Amador," Coulson decides once Grant's finished.
"I'll let HQ know she's alive so they can assist with the manhunt," May volunteers.
"I'd like to hold off on that," Coulson says at once. "Until we know more."
May looks distinctly unimpressed.
"Contact Belarus authorities, find us a place to park the Bus," Coulson orders. Then he turns to Grant. "Put together a list of inns, hotels, and pensions near Zloda. There can't be that many of them. We'll find her."
Grant nods and leaves the briefing room. After a moment of debate, he decides to work in the lab. He'll use one of the computers down there to compile the list, then drag Jemma and Fitz up for lunch.
When he reaches the lab, he's surprised to find Jemma and Fitz back to working on the projects from the morning.
"Finish tracing the hack?" he asks them.
"There's nothing to trace," Jemma tells him. "And there's no recovering the footage. If I didn't know better, I'd say the cameras hadn't been hacked at all. Whoever did this is very, very good."
"About that," Grant says, and fills them in on Amador.
"And Agent Coulson doesn't want HQ notified?" Jemma asks. "Why not?"
"He trained Amador," he explains. "If I had to guess, I'd say he feels responsible for her, wants to help her. He'll try to reason with her, and HQ…"
"Is more inclined towards shooting first and asking questions after the funeral," she finishes. "Well, I suppose that makes sense."
"How on earth does it make sense for Agent Coulson to violate protocol?" Fitz asks her, incredulous.
"He's been violating protocol since day one," Jemma points out. "We're still here, aren't we?"
"Fair point," Fitz concedes, then looks at Grant. "So, what's next then?"
"We're headed to Belarus," Grant says. "I need to put together a list of places Amador might be staying. You should finish that pistol. Coulson's going to want to bring Amador in alive, but she's not going to come quietly."
Fitz nods a little and turns back to his workstation, apparently in a cooperative mood. It's unusual, but Grant'll take it.
"And is there anything I can do?" Jemma asks.
"Not yet," he says. "I'll let you know."
Coulson wanders in as Grant is finishing up the list.
"FitzSimmons, you got anything for me?" he asks.
"I'm afraid not, sir," Jemma tells him, and fills him in.
"Yeah, I figured," Coulson says. He checks his watch. "We'll be in Belarus in three hours. I'm going to want you two and Skye to scan for any sort of electronic transmission—Amador's got to be contacting her buyer somehow."
Jemma and Fitz exchange looks as Grant takes a deep breath. It makes sense, of course. They need to find Amador quickly, before she steals anything else, and having all three of them scanning for her will speed up the process. But Grant's read Amador's file. He knows how dangerous she is, what she's capable of, and to be honest, he'd really rather not have Jemma in the same country as Amador, let alone the same city.
As it happens, there is a really good reason that SHIELD protocol forbids soulmates from working on the same field team. Jemma's going to be in danger for as long as this assignment lasts, and Grant just has to learn to deal with it. All he can do is make sure to protect her to the very best of his ability.
"Is that a problem?" Coulson asks mildly.
"No, sir," Jemma says.
"Not at all," Fitz agrees. "No problems here."
"Although, if you want us to scan the whole city—we'll need a lot of space for our equipment. I don't know that we'll fit in the SUV."
"I'll rent a van," Coulson says dismissively.
"Great," Fitz says. "A van, that—that'll work, yes."
Grant gives Jemma a questioning look, and she grimaces. So it's not just his imagination—Fitz is definitely freaking out.
"Three hours," Coulson reminds them, and leaves.
"You okay, Fitz?" Grant asks.
"What? Yes, yes, I'm fine. Everything's fine," Fitz says. "Simmons, I'm going to go fetch the—"
"Right, yes," Jemma agrees. "Do you think we'll need—?"
"Best to have it, just in case."
"Yes, probably. I'll box it up, then."
"Good," Fitz says, and leaves.
Grant shakes his head, amused. He's pretty sure that Jemma and Fitz just agreed exactly what gear to bring, without ever actually naming anything. He has to admit, it's pretty impressive how they always seem to just read each other's minds.
And he's surprised to find that it doesn't bother him at all anymore, not even a little. He thinks of what Jemma told him last week, about her and Fitz taking the name FitzSimmons as a way of acknowledging what they meant to each other— about how lonely she was, before Fitz.
He already decided, weeks ago, to be happy for Jemma, that she found a brother in Fitz. It had still bothered him a little, though, which he thinks is understandable—after all, he's her soulmate, so it's only natural that he would be a little upset about her being so close to another man. But the last of his lingering jealousy melts away as Fitz reenters the lab, and he watches the way they debate over some kind of scanner, the way they hardly ever finish their sentences.
Grant has no hope of ever understanding Jemma's work. He's glad she has someone who does. On a personal level, he finds Fitz annoying, but he can appreciate the other man for what he means to Jemma. And he promises himself, as they call him over to do some heavy lifting, that he'll do his absolute best to protect Fitz, too. For Jemma's sake.
x
Three hours later, they've landed at a private airstrip. It's a few hours' drive from Zloda, but it was the best they could do. Everyone's suited up and they're just waiting on the delivery of the van Coulson arranged to rent. All of the equipment they're bringing is piled up in the cargo bay, and Grant stands back and watches as Jemma and Fitz fuss over one of the cases.
Skye sidles up next to him, and he glances down at her to find her eyes fixed on Jemma.
"What's it like?" she asks quietly.
"What?"
"The soul bond," she clarifies. "It's gotta be settled by now, right? So what's it like?"
Grant looks back at Jemma, considers the thrum of the bond in his chest, the weight of the tether around his heart. He can't imagine putting it into words.
"Warm," he says simply. "Why?"
"Just always wondered, is all," Skye says. She gives him a bright smile. "Warm, huh? That's nice, Ward. It's almost poetic, for you."
He rolls his eyes as she darts away to bug Coulson. She's been doing that a lot, lately, Skye. Popping up and asking him something, trying to make a connection, then wandering away like it never happened. Maybe she's trying to make nice. Or maybe she's playing him. He hasn't decided yet.
He'll figure it out later. At the moment, he's got a job to do.
"Do we have a call sign for the van?" he checks with May as the van drives up to the bottom of the ramp.
"Short Bus seems appropriate," she muses.
"Sounds good," he agrees, smiling a little. After all, he's going to be the one driving.
Once they get the van loaded up, they head for Zloda. May stays behind—partially, Grant suspects, because Coulson doesn't trust her not to just kill Amador when they find her. Jemma's in the backseat with Fitz and Skye, and as they approach the outskirts of the town, she's chattering happily about always wanting to visit Zloda. Apparently a Nobel-winning scientist was born nearby, and Jemma's enthusiasm about it has Grant working to hold back a smile.
Fitz is less excited. "I'm just a little bit preoccupied. Our first and only other time in the field wasn't exactly a picnic, was it?"
Grant's a little surprised by this reasonable caution, as Fitz didn't portray any reservations about going into the field in search of Hall last week, but perhaps he's thinking of the way that ended, rather than Reyes' attempted hijacking of the Bus. Being far away and helpless to protect someone you care about can be a lot worse than being in danger, Grant knows.
Coulson is attempting to reassure Fitz when the radio beeps.
"Bus to Short Bus," May says.
"Go for Short Bus," Grant answers.
"Next time, I'll decide what we call ourselves, okay?" Coulson mutters, and Grant gives him his best look of innocent confusion.
Considering the fact that Grant's made a career of undercover work, it's a pretty convincing look.
"HQ has requested a status update," May informs them.
"What'd you tell them?"
"That we're tracking a potential suspect, nothing more."
"I owe you one."
"More like three," May corrects, and then signs off.
"Here's good," Coulson tells him a few seconds later, and Grant pulls over to the side of the road and parks the van. They'll be going into town on foot, while Jemma, Fitz, and Skye stay in the bus and try to find electronic traces of Amador's presence.
"Maintain radio silence unless you really need help," Grant tells them. There's always a chance that Amador will be doing her own scanning, and it's best not to risk it.
He doesn't single out Jemma and remind her to be careful. It's tempting, but Jemma might take it the wrong way.
It's not that he doesn't trust her, it's that he really really hates taking her into the field. But, it is what it is, so he gets out of the car without saying anything else. He ignores Fitz shouting after him.
As he and Coulson walk through Zloda, Grant attempts to sympathize with him. He gets a twisted sense of amusement from it, actually, trying to offer comfort that Coulson was betrayed by someone he believed in. Although, Grant gets the feeling, from Coulson's response, that Coulson still believes in Amador—that he actually thinks she might have a good reason for what she's done.
Interesting.
Apparently Grant's attempt at sympathizing seemed like an invitation for conversation to Coulson, because as they leave the third inn (after striking out once again), the senior agent speaks.
"Fitz seem a little uneasy to you?"
"More than a little," Grant notes, checking his phone for the address of the next place on their list. "He said he was fine about twenty times on the flight over."
Coulson makes a thoughtful noise. "He didn't see any action on our last op."
"But we did, sir," Grant points out.
"And a man he respected died trying to kill us all," Coulson muses. "You think he's, what? Reminded of his own mortality?"
"I don't think he ever forgot," Grant says. "But between that and what happened with the 0-8-4, it hasn't been an easy introduction to field work. And Jemma says he wasn't crazy about the idea in the first place."
"He wasn't," Coulson confirms. "Well, hopefully if this goes off without a hitch, he'll calm down a little."
"Hopefully," Grant agrees, although frankly he thinks the chances of this going off without a hitch are pretty slim.
After a moment, Coulson asks, "You and Simmons talk about Fitz?"
"They're close," Grant says, giving a little shrug.
"You know, when I sent in the paperwork for your exemption, Hill bet me twenty that you'd have Fitz scared away from Simmons by the end of the week."
Grant flicks a glance at him. "That long?"
Coulson ignores him. "But here we are, nearly a month into this team, and you're both still here."
If Grant had really wanted to get rid of Fitz, he'd have sent the man running back to a lab posting by the end of the first day. With his new perspective on the relationship between Jemma and Fitz, he's glad he didn't.
"Fitz is annoying, sir," he says plainly. "But he's important to Jemma. And for her? I'll put up with a lot worse than Fitz."
"You glad I talked you into staying on the team?" Coulson asks, smiling a little smugly.
"Haven't decided yet," Grant says, then looks around. "We may have taken a wrong turn somewhere, sir."
"GPS says we're right in front of it," Coulson tells him, looking at his phone.
In unison, they turn to look at the barber shop they're standing in front of.
Coulson indicates a man standing against a nearby wall. "I'll go…ask that gentleman for directions."
Grant nods and follows him over. The man knows exactly where the inn is, and helpfully points them in the right direction. Coulson is thanking him when Grant's phone rings.
"Did you locate Amador?" he asks in lieu of a hello.
"What? No, not yet," Skye says. Grant shakes his head at Coulson, and they start to walk in the direction of the inn. "But we've found a broadcast with some…weird signal encrypted into it."
"You think Amador might be communicating on that signal?"
"Maybe," Skye says. "But I called with an equally pressing question for you, my SO. What are we supposed to do if we have to pee?"
Grant rolls his eyes. "You broke protocol because you need a bathroom break?"
"It was a really, really long drive and everyone's nervous," Skye says defensively.
Grant honestly had not taken the need for bathroom breaks into account when planning this op, and a glance at Coulson shows that he hadn't, either. Still, they can't afford to let Jemma, Skye, or Fitz leave the bus.
"There's a container at the bottom of the blue chest," he tells her.
There's a moment of silence, and then, "Not the water bottle."
"That's the one," he confirms. He knows exactly what her reaction to that will be, and doesn't even bother to listen to her response. "Agent Coulson and I are trying to find a dangerous criminal. If there is nothing else pressing—"
"Well, listen, Fitz wants to know if you packed any snacks," Skye says.
Grant hangs up. Even if he were in the mood to put up with Skye, which he's not, they've finally reached the inn. He tucks his phone back into his pocket as they enter.
Surprisingly enough, they finally hit pay dirt. The woman behind the front desk not only recognizes Amador, she calls Amador her 'angel'. She also thinks Amador is psychic.
He and Coulson obtain the woman's permission to examine Amador's room, but when they enter it's immediately obvious that Amador has already cleared out. They take a close look around anyway, hoping for some sort of clue as to Amador's next move.
Grant's in the middle of rifling through the bedcovers when his phone rings again and, frustrated, he answers with, "If this isn't because you've found Amador, I'm doubling your warm-ups."
"Well, we're in luck then," Jemma answers brightly.
"Jemma? Where's Skye?" he asks, surprised. Then her words register. "Wait, you found Amador? How?"
"Well, you see," Jemma begins, and it might be his imagination, but he thinks her voice wavers a bit. "She sort of…ran us off the road."
"She what? Are you hurt?" he demands. Coulson straightens in concern.
"No, no, we're fine," she rushes to assure him. "Just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing needing medical attention. It's just that we won't be able to drive back to the Bus because the van…fell over, a little. Could you send someone to fetch us, please?"
Grant takes a deep breath. "When you say the van fell over?"
"I mean that it's upside down," Jemma says. "In a ditch."
"We'll be there soon," he promises. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"
"Positive," she confirms. "We're all fine."
"Okay, we're on our way."
They exchange goodbyes, and Grant hangs up.
"Amador found them," he tells Coulson, already heading for the door. "Ran them right off the road. We're gonna need a new ride."
Coulson swears and follows him out of the room.
On their way back to the van, Coulson calls in to HQ, requesting a local team to come pick up the van and determine whether it can be salvaged, or if they'll need to buy it from the rental company. He also requests that the local team bring an extra vehicle that they can borrow to get back to the Bus.
"We're in for a wait," Coulson says once he hangs up. "The closest team is based in Minsk, so it'll be about three hours."
Grant just nods, not trusting his voice. He speeds up a little. He knows Jemma said she's fine, but he won't be able to believe it until he sees her with his own eyes.
Their walk into town took nearly twenty minutes. They make it back to the van in twelve. When they get there, they find Jemma, Skye, and Fitz sitting on the edge of the road, their equipment piled around them.
Jemma stands when she sees him. "Grant!"
He all but runs the last few feet to her side and grabs her in a tight hug. After a few moments, which he uses to steady his breathing and regain his calm, he takes her by the shoulders, holding her back from him a little so that he can look her over. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Grant," she promises. "Barely a scratch."
A quick visual examination supports that. There's a scrape on her left cheek, and a rapidly reddening spot near her hairline that will probably turn into a bruise, but other than that, she looks fine.
"Good," he says, letting go of her. "That's…good."
"We're fine, too," Skye interjects. "In case you were wondering."
He finally looks away from Jemma to give Skye a look. "I wasn't."
"Ouch. That hurts, Ward."
"Where's your gun?" he asks her, noting she's not armed.
Skye suddenly looks shifty.
"Skye?" he presses.
She sighs and opens the cooler, pulling out her gun. When she holds it up, he takes it from her and is not really surprised to find that the mag is missing.
"And the magazine?" he asks. Skye points wordlessly to the van. "Great."
"More weapons training?" Skye guesses miserably.
"A lot more," he confirms. "And there's no time like the present."
x
Half an hour later, even Grant is sick of weapons training. Skye is the opposite of a natural with this, and there's a reason Grant went with field work instead of becoming a training officer. It's difficult to keep his temper with Skye as he goes over the basics, again and again and again, and he has to draw on all of his training to keep his annoyance off of his face.
It becomes easier in the second hour, when Jemma comes over and joins them.
"You did promise me some lessons," she reminds him with a cheerful smile.
"I did," he agrees. "All right, take a seat."
He leads them through the basics: loading and unloading a gun, disassembling it, identifying the different parts, putting it back together. Even though he's been giving Skye lessons in this for weeks, Jemma picks up on it quickly, and by the time the SHIELD team from Minsk arrives, the two women are racing to see who can disassemble and reassemble the gun fastest.
"I hate to break this up," Grant says. "But we're ready to go."
"Ha! I win!" Jemma says, looking adorably excited. Her gun is completely reassembled, lying neatly on the case she's been using as a table, while Skye's just putting the mag back in hers.
"Man, how are you faster at this?" Skye demands, playfully annoyed. "I've been learning this for weeks."
Grant offers Jemma a hand up, and Skye points at them accusingly.
"I call favoritism!" she declares.
"Excuse me?" Jemma asks, looking a little offended.
"Ward puts more effort in with you!" Skye claims, jumping to her feet. "I'm just a rookie, and you're his soulmate! Clearly you had an unfair advantage."
"I did not," Jemma defends. "Like you said, you've been learning this for weeks! It was my first lesson!"
"Well, you're a genius," Skye says reasonably. "Clearly, I never stood a chance."
"That's true," Jemma concedes.
Grant looks between the two of them, a little confused. They sound annoyed, but they're grinning at each other like they're best friends. He shakes his head.
"Time to go," he reminds them. "We need to load up the SUV."
"Oh, yes," Jemma says. "Grant, could you get the black case over there? It's a little heavy."
"No problem," he says. As he carries the black case over to the SUV the Minsk team brought for them, he keeps an eye on Jemma and Skye. They hold an easy conversation as they gather up their own cases, and Grant realizes, with a sinking feeling, that they've definitely become friends.
The problem with that is, he's still not sure of Skye's loyalties. She might honestly be dedicated to SHIELD, in which case her becoming friends with Jemma would be a good thing—one more well-trained agent (or she will be, when he's done with her) with a personal investment in Jemma's safety can only be of benefit. But if she's not sincere in her dedication to SHIELD? If she's playing them?
Jemma will be hurt if Skye's running game on them. And, he realizes as Skye nudges Jemma playfully, she'll be hurt if something happens to Skye. He's been considering taking Skye out, removing her from the equation before she can become a threat, but that's not possible now. Not if he wants Jemma to be happy. Can he risk her safety for the sake of her happiness?
Grant sighs to himself as he loads the last case into the SUV. If Skye's genuine, then all of this worry is for nothing. Unfortunately, he can't count on that. His luck is just not that good.
x
The drive back to the Bus is long and passes mostly in silence. Skye does take the opportunity to update them on the broadcast she'd picked up on, how it ended up originating from Amador, some sort of live video feed which allowed them to see her approaching the van.
Aside from that, though, no one talks much. Jemma, Skye, and Fitz seem a little rattled, not that he can blame them. After all, the last time they were in a vehicle, it got flipped over. Grant, for his part, is trying to keep his temper. Now that he's got nothing but empty road to distract him, he's angry at Coulson. Coulson is obviously holding on to the idea that Amador can be saved, or something ridiculous like that, and his reluctance to bring in HQ on this meant that Jemma was in danger today.
Amador could have very easily killed them instead of just running them off the road, and he really can't forgive that.
x
When they get back to the Bus, May's waiting for them on the catwalk. She's hard to read on the best of days, but Grant's pretty sure she's as angry as he is. Melinda May's personnel file identifies her as a protector, someone who takes full responsibility for the safety of her team. She can't be too happy that Amador got so close to the untrained members of their team while May herself was hours away.
Grant has a feeling that May won't be making a habit of staying with the Bus while the rest of them go into the field.
Once they've dropped all of the gear from the SUV in the lab, Coulson excuses himself to go update May. Grant thinks about going with him, trying to convince him that Amador's beyond help and they need to take her down, but he's not sure he can keep his temper. So he stays in the lab, hangs back in a corner as Jemma and Fitz unpack all of the cases.
Skye is fiddling with her laptop.
"You know," she says suddenly. "I think I can recover the data signature of that encrypted broadcast."
"The one she was watching you through?" he asks.
"Yeah, maybe we can use it to start watching back."
"How long?"
"Give me an hour."
Grant makes good use of that hour. He, Jemma, and Fitz all go upstairs and eat—for once, he doesn't even have to drag them, as they're not really working on anything at the moment. After dinner, Fitz goes back down to the lab while Grant lingers in the lounge with Jemma. As expected, the red spot on her temple has bloomed into a bruise, and he can't help frowning at it.
"Thank you," Jemma says, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"For what?"
"I know you don't enjoy bringing me into the field, and I can tell how much what happened today bothers you, but you've never put up a fuss about it. So, thank you. For not trying to keep me out of the field."
He laughs a little under his breath and leans back against the couch. "I've definitely been tempted to just…lock you safely in the lab," he admits. "But something tells me that wouldn't stop you for long."
"No," she agrees. "It wouldn't."
She leans against him, and he lifts his arm so that she can settle more comfortably against his chest, then wraps it around her shoulders.
"I know it's not easy for you," she continues quietly. "But it's not easy for me, either. Watching you throw yourself so willingly into danger…"
"There's a reason soulmates aren't supposed to go into the field together," he reminds her. He toys with the ends of her hair. "It goes against our instincts to see each other going into danger without doing anything to stop it."
Jemma sighs, and Grant hesitates before continuing.
"Coulson asked me earlier if I was glad he didn't let me request a new assignment, after we met," he tells her. "I told him I hadn't decided, but the truth is…"
She twists to look up at him. "The truth is?"
"It probably makes me the most selfish man on the planet, but I'd rather have you with me. Even if it means you're in danger, even if you'd be so much safer in a lab posting…I'm glad you're here, where I can see you every day."
Jemma gives him a soft smile. "That doesn't make you selfish, Grant. It makes you human."
She leans up and kisses him. It's a soft kiss, comforting rather than intense, and they keep it short. Still, it is, as always, enough to get his blood thrumming. It's amazing, the way she affects him.
"And I'm glad, too," she says when she pulls away. "I like having you here, where we can spend time together."
Before he can respond to that, the intercom clicks on. It's Skye, requesting the team's presence in the lab, and they immediately comply. Coulson and May are right on their heels as they go downstairs.
"Something's wrong," Skye is saying as they enter the lab. "It's the same feed that was watching us from the van. Put it up on the big monitor?"
Fitz moves to do so, and they all gather around the holotable.
"Maybe the lens broke when the van rammed us?" Jemma suggests, looking at the loading screen.
"I hope she broke more than that," Skye mutters. Grant completely agrees.
The video feed comes up on the monitor, and they all stare in confusion. It just looks like fogged up glass. Things become a little clearer when a hand appears in view, wiping the glass down, and they're looking at video of Amador. She's obviously looking in a mirror, which begs the question, where's the camera?
As Coulson voices the question, Amador picks up a screwdriver and brings it up to her eye—brings it up to the camera. The camera is in her eye, and Grant can't help but wince. That's just…gross.
The picture suddenly changes, and Fitz says, "Switches to backscatter when she closes her eyes."
"You're a robot," Skye says to Grant. "Can you do that?"
Grant closes his eyes briefly, gathering his patience, then turns to Jemma and Fitz. "Who has tech like that?"
He doesn't bother to listen to their response, since he already knows the answer. Cybertek. Seeing this feed, things have become a lot clearer. It's obvious that Amador has one of the Cybertek eyes, which means that she's under Garrett's control. Her SHIELD file said that she doesn't have any family, living or dead, and her soulmate was a SHIELD agent KIA two years before she was, so Garrett's probably using the threat of the kill switch against her. The question is, what's Garrett's play? They're not short on funding, as far as he knows, so why on earth is Amador stealing diamonds on their behalf?
When he tunes back in to the conversation around him, Coulson and May are arguing. Coulson still wants to handle this in-house, without involving HQ. May's more concerned with the safety of the team, a concern Grant shares.
"Because we protect our own," Coulson says to May.
"With all due respect, sir," Grant interrupts. "She's not one of our own."
Skye interrupts the argument, drawing their attention back to the screen.
There's no question of what Grant should do. As a deep cover operative, he has orders to act fully as a member of Coulson's team, even if that means taking out one of Garrett's assets. And, as Amador requests permission to sleep and the team realizes she's being controlled, he knows that's exactly what's going to happen. There's no way Coulson's going to let this go. Not now.
So. He'll be working to save Amador from his own operation. It would almost be funny, if it weren't so annoying. He knows it won't be easy.
Coulson decides they should keep watch on the feed, in case Amador looks at anything that might reveal her location, and May volunteers to take the first watch. Coulson seems to take it as a peace offering, but Grant suspects May's just taking advantage of the opportunity. Regardless of Amador's lack of culpability in her crimes, May obviously still views her as a threat. She'll do her best to take Amador out before anything else happens.
This actually works in Grant's favor, so he pretends not to pick up on May's motives. They agree to three four-hour watches, one for each of the trained field agents, and Coulson volunteers for the second. Which means Grant can go to bed, so he doesn't argue, even though he probably should. Middle watch is always the hardest—getting up, keeping watch, and then trying to get back to sleep after being on alert for so long—and it's really his duty to take it, rather than let his commanding officer take on the job.
Still, it's been a hell of a day, and he's pretty much exhausted, so he lets Coulson have his way.
x
It feels like only minutes after he lies down that Fitz is banging on his door.
"Ward! Ward, get up!"
He rolls out of bed and pulls the door open.
"What?" he asks, although he has a pretty good idea, judging by the panicked tone to Fitz's voice.
"Agent May went after Amador," Fitz tells him, already moving toward Jemma's bunk. "We have to stop her. Agent Coulson's waiting in the lab."
He slides his door shut again, then quickly trades his pajama pants for his jeans. He grabs socks and a shirt out of his dresser, snatches up his shoes, and pulls the door back open. He puts the shirt on as he heads down to the lab. When he gets there, he finds Coulson pacing in front of the monitor.
"Your orders, sir?" Grant asks, taking a seat on one of the lab stools so that he can put his socks on.
"We have to go after May," Coulson tells him. "Stop her before she can kill Amador."
"As soon as Amador looks at us, whoever's controlling her will know we're involved," he says. "And I was thinking, there has to be a reason Amador didn't go to HQ for help after she had that eye stuck in her."
Coulson pauses in his pacing. "You think, what? Some kind of failsafe?"
"It would explain why she's still working for them, taking their orders," he points out, standing and shoving his feet into his shoes. "She obviously has a lot of freedom, if she's been running around stealing diamonds, but she still needs permission to sleep? It's the only thing that fits."
"You're right," Coulson says. "And that means that as soon as we bring Amador in…"
"They'll kill her," Grant finishes. Of course, this isn't speculation for him. He knows it as a fact. But it's a reasonable conclusion to come to, even without inside information, and he's confident he would have been able to figure it out if he didn't already know it. Which means he has to give the information to Coulson, as part of his cover.
Fitz enters the lab, followed by Jemma and Skye.
"May went off the rails?" Skye asks Coulson, obviously shocked. Grant knows that Skye looks up to May, hence the tone.
"Looks like," Coulson says. "Can you hack the feed, loop it so that whoever's controlling Amador thinks she's still sleeping?"
"I can try."
"Do that," Coulson orders, then turns to Fitz. "You were working on glasses with the same capability, right?"
"Uh, yeah," Fitz says, crossing to his work table. He holds up a pair of glasses. "These. Full backscatter capabilities, all you have to do is press the frame."
"Is it possible to broadcast the feed from those glasses to whoever is controlling Amador?" Coulson asks.
"If Skye can hack their signal, sure," Fitz says.
"Good," Coulson says. "How about the night-night pistol you've been working on. Is it finished?"
"Yeah, it's on the counter, there," Fitz answers, gesturing vaguely at the counter. He's preoccupied, fiddling with the glasses.
"Skye?"
"Yeah, I'm in," Skye tells him. "Looping the current footage."
"Great. So, here's the plan. I'm going to take the night-night pistol, knock Amador out, and bring her back here. Amador got another assignment a few hours ago. Ward, you're gonna put on the glasses and complete Amador's assignment. We can't let her handlers know anything's up."
Grant nods. "Yes, sir."
"Simmons," Coulson continues, turning to Jemma. "You're going to remove Amador's eye."
"I—what?" Jemma asks. She looks a little sick at the mere suggestion. "Sir, I'm not a surgeon! And I'm certainly not an ophthalmologist!"
"We'll you're the closest thing we've got," Coulson tells her. "And if you don't remove the eye, Amador's handlers will use it to kill her as soon as they realize something's wrong."
Jemma wrings her hands a little.
"Simmons," Coulson says. "Can you do this?"
"I'll do my best, sir," Jemma promises. She still looks nervous, but her voice is steady.
"Good. Then let's get to work."
They need to get to Amador's hotel in time to stop May from killing her—or her from killing May—so there's no real time for Grant to encourage Jemma. He contents himself with a squeeze to her shoulder and a whispered, "You can do this."
"Be careful," she whispers back.
He nods, and then it's time to go.
x
In the morning, Grant sits parked outside the Toldorov building with Skye in the back seat. She needs to be on site in order to make the glasses wireless—something to do with localizing the feed—and Grant waits impatiently for her to finish.
He's had no contact with Garrett since he started this assignment, so he has absolutely no idea what might be waiting for him inside the building. He's looked over the information on the building that May downloaded, but at first glance it doesn't look like it holds anything Garrett might want.
He's walking in blind. He hates walking in blind.
"We wireless yet?" he asks Skye.
There's a beep, and then she replies, "Yep. Ready to detach."
She reaches forward to detach the wires from the glasses, and her fingers brush against the ticklish spot behind his right ear. He squirms. He can't help it.
"Don't look at me," she says. "They need to think you're her."
He grunts.
"And, oh my god, super spy is ticklish." The wires come off with a quiet snap, and she sits back.
He just knows Skye is going to use this knowledge against him, but he doesn't have time to buy—or threaten—her silence. A message appears on the lens of the glasses.
LOCATION CONFIRMED. PROCEED TO DELTA 5.
"It would suck to live like this, wondering if someone's watching," Skye says.
Grant ignores her. "Testing backscatter." He presses the button on the frame, and looks through the hood of the next car, then deactivates the backscatter.
"Good to go," Skye says. She hands him the wireless receiver for the glasses, and he takes it without looking.
"Remember, I can't look at you," he tells her. "Much less help you."
"Got it," she says. "Don't count on you for help."
He nods and slides the receiver into his inside pocket, then gets out of the car. He takes a deep breath to center himself, then falls into line behind the other people headed into the building. He's not armed for this mission, which is unfortunate, but they weren't able to get the security specs on such short notice, so he can't risk it.
"Fitz and Simmons are prepped for surgery," Skye tells him as he enters the building. "It should be any minute now."
Grant takes a deep breath. He hopes that Garrett remembers his own orders when he finds out about Grant's involvement in freeing Amador from his control, but he's not counting on it. He's almost definitely going to face repercussions for this.
"Hey! Remember, you have man hands, so don't look when you scan the card," Skye says.
"I know," he mutters. He gives the guard a friendly smile as he scans in, uses it as an excuse to keep from looking, then continues on his way.
He proceeds through the building with no trouble, past Delta 2, 3, and 4. He has to tell Skye he doesn't need her help more than once, but other than that, there's no contact from the team. He hopes that means Amador's surgery is going well, if only for Jemma's sake.
When he reaches Delta 5, another message appears on the glasses as he looks through the window.
TARGET CONFIRMED. STAND BY.
He ducks out of view of the window as Skye asks, "What do they mean target?"
"It's never good," he responds quietly. "Especially for the target. Let's hope it's a knock out and not a kill."
"You should get out of there," she says.
"I've come this far. I'll finish. Whatever it takes."
He looks back through the window, and his instructions appear.
SEDUCE HIM.
He freezes. It's not that he's not capable of seducing a man. He's better with women, but he's seduced men before. It's just that…it feels wrong. Seducing anyone seems like a horrible thing to do. It feels like even pretending to have any interest in anyone besides Jemma is a betrayal of her.
Which is, of course, ridiculous. He has a job to do, and he needs to do it, and that's that. But he still finds himself hesitating. Also, on a more relevant level, Skye is watching this. If he seems too proficient at manipulating people, she might get suspicious. Although, if he seems too incompetent, she'll use it against him, and he's already given her too much ammunition for one day. Still, his mission is more important than his ego.
"Help," he says.
"I'm sorry, did you say help?" Skye asks, gleefully smug. "Because a minute ago, you said you didn't want or need my help."
"That was before they asked me to go all Mata Hari on this guy," he whispers. He looks back through the window. "I'm just gonna knock him out."
"Ward, wait," she says. "We may need him to get to the next door. Remember, it said seduce, not kill."
"I don't think I'm his type," he bites out. Which is a lie. He's everyone's type.
"Let me see," she says. "Cheap haircut, five o'clock shadow. Nope. Odds are, you guys play for the same team. You're gonna have to bromance him."
It's a good thing that the camera isn't actually attached to his eyes, because he rolls them so hard he'd have given the handler motion sickness if it were.
"Talk sports, vodka, the Victorianov Secret catalog, be friendly, Agent Ward. Can you be friendly?" she sighs, then mutters, "Please don't die."
He tips his head back for a moment, then enters the room. The guard immediately gets to his feet.
Grant decides not to try too hard. His overall cover is more important than this single op, so he'll just have to hope he doesn't need the man for whatever's in the next room. He asks about the game, tries to spin a story about taking home a couple of girls, and doesn't bother to give a decent excuse about having no ID. As expected, the guard attacks him, and Grant easily knocks him out.
He goes into the next room, where he finds two men sitting at typewriters, surrounded by walls full of equations and strange symbols. They look at him briefly, then go back to their work.
"What now?" Skye asks. "Are you supposed to grab one of these guys?"
He walks around the room, taking in the chalkboards full of equations. The one on the far wall, the one covered with symbols, holds his attention the longest. He's never seen anything like it. As he looks at it, another message appears on his glasses.
MISSION COMPLETE. GOOD LUCK.
Good luck? That's more than a little ominous. He remembers the order to seduce the guard and gets a bad feeling. Sure enough, when he leaves the room, he sees a countdown going on the guard's computer.
"Figured out what I needed the guard for," he tells Skye. "His password."
"Maybe I can talk you through a hack," she suggests. "Just give me a minute."
Unfortunately, he doesn't have a minute. The timer reaches zero, and the alarm goes off. Shit. He bends down and takes the guard's gun, then leaves the room at a run.
"Meet me on the south side of the building, ASAP," he tells Skye.
He makes it through three hallways unnoticed, but then a guard comes around the corner. Grant doesn't bother to hang around and see whether or not the guard finds him suspicious—he takes off at a run, and the guard follows.
He loses the guard easily enough, and quickly finds himself outside of the security office. He uses the backscatter on the glasses to shoot two of the guards inside through the wall, and is about to shoot the third when his comm activates.
"Ward?" It's Fitz.
"What?" he demands.
"You sound winded," Fitz notes. "Is this a bad time?"
Fitz is important to Jemma, Grant reminds himself. It will upset Jemma if he's mean to Fitz.
"Little bit," he says, forcing himself to sound calm.
"Well, not so good for me, either, considering I'm holding a still-attached prosthetic eye that could explode at any second!" Fitz hisses.
He really isn't in the mood to talk Fitz through diffusing an explosive, but there's a 99.9 percent chance that Jemma is standing right next to him, and he won't risk Fitz doing something wrong and killing her.
"Are the wires exposed or shielded?" he asks, and turns a corner. Then he freezes, because he's looking straight into a mirror. "Cut it now. Cut the wires now!"
He doesn't hear anything else from Fitz, so he has to assume that everything's fine. If it's not…
He shakes the thought off and tells Skye, "Coming your way."
"I don't know what that means," she complains.
He's not really sure what she finds confusing about it, but he has no time to ask. A guard appears behind him, and Grant heads for the nearest window. He really hopes he timed this right, and that Skye didn't dawdle in the parking lot, and that he has the right window, or else this is really going to hurt.
He shoots the window to weaken the glass, then leaps through it.
It is the right window; he lands on an awning, runs across a storage container, and jumps down to the ground just as Skye drives up. He slides into the passenger seat, hiding his relief.
"Let's go," he says, and she nods.
They make it out of the parking lot, and he can't wait any longer.
"Fitz get the eye diffused okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, they got it," Skye says, then gives him a look. "Aww, were you worried about Simmons? You were, weren't you? Admit it!"
"Of course I was," he says, incredulous. "She's my soulmate and she was extracting a possible explosive from Amador's eye. How could that not worry me?"
Skye looks at him, wide eyed, then turns back to the road. "I knew you cared, I just…didn't expect you to admit it. Wow."
He rolls his eyes. She really does think he's a robot, doesn't she? Apparently he didn't do as good a job humanizing himself as he thought. Might as well take the opportunity to rectify that—they've got a bit of a drive back to the Bus.
"There's no shame in admitting I care about my soulmate," he tells her.
"Yeah, but you're one of those tough-guy types," she protests. "Most of the guys like you I've known think it's weak to admit they care about people."
He scoffs. "What's weak is being too embarrassed to admit your feelings—to let the people you care about know that you do."
"Huh," she says.
"I don't go around shouting from the rooftops that Jemma's my soulmate," he continues. "That would be stupid, and it could put her at risk, because I've got my fair share of enemies. But everyone on the team knows. There's no need to hide it around you guys."
"Wow, Ward, that's…really sweet."
"It's the truth," he says with a shrug.
Skye taps her fingers on the steering wheel. "So…since I've got you in a sharing mood. Does it bother you, Fitz and Simmons being so close?"
First Coulson, now her. He's going to get a complex or something, at this rate. He just hopes May doesn't ask. That would be a little too weird, even for Coulson's circus of a team.
"It did at first," he admits. Jealousy's a very human emotion, and one she's likely to have experience with, herself. It's likely to increase her sympathy for him. "It's only natural, isn't it? They can practically read each other's minds."
"But?"
"But Fitz is important to Jemma. They're like siblings. They've been at each other's sides since their days in the Academy, and she's dependent on him. I'm glad she has him, that she's had his support."
"Okay, you need to stop," Skye says, holding a hand up. "You're freaking me out with the genuine emotions here, Ward."
He smiles to himself. Mission accomplished.
x
When they get back to the Bus, Grant immediately goes upstairs to change out of the cheap suit he's wearing. After a moment of debate, he puts on his workout clothes. He's had a long day, but he had to skip his morning workout in order to pretend to be Amador, and he's not willing to skip his evening workout, as well. He thinks about dragging Skye to her evening training, but to be honest, he's spent enough time with her for one day. He'll just have her make it up tomorrow.
He heads down to the cargo bay, and he's barely started his first set of push-ups when Jemma comes out of the lab and takes a seat on the stairs. He pauses to look up at her.
"I missed our usual morning conversation," she says. "I thought perhaps we could make it up now?"
"Sounds good," he tells her, returning to his push-ups. "I spoke last yesterday. Your turn."
After all these weeks, they've pretty much run out of questions to ask each other. God knows he's run through all of the 'get to know your soulmate' lists he found on Google. So now, they mostly just take turns talking about whatever comes to mind. It's harder for him than it is for Jemma, so sometimes she has to prompt him, but she doesn't seem to mind.
"Skye told me what you said," she says after a moment. "About being happy that I had Fitz to support me?"
Wow. They've been back on the Bus for less than ten minutes. Skye must have gone straight to Jemma as soon as they got back.
"Did she?" he asks neutrally.
"Yes," Jemma says. "And I wanted to thank you for that. And for…"
He looks up, concerned, as she trails off. She shakes her head at him, so he looks back down and keeps going.
She takes a deep breath and starts again. "Over the years, I've heard from…rather a lot of people, that my soulmate would never tolerate how close I am to Fitz. People said it all the time. As soon as they found out that Fitz and I weren't soulmates, they immediately told me that I should enjoy my friendship with him whilst I could, because my soulmate would never stand for it. They meant well, I think, or at least most of them did, but after a while it did start to get to me."
He can hear her tapping her nails against the railing, the way she does when she's considering how to word something, and he takes the chance to absorb what she's said. He thinks of Coulson and Skye both mentioning it, how annoyed he was to hear it a second time, and contemplates how annoyed he would be if he heard that from everyone he met.
"He's never said, but I think Fitz has heard the same thing fairly often. Possibly even more than I have. I know he's been a little…sharp with you. I believe that, at least subconsciously, he's trying to provoke you."
"Provoke me?" he echoes.
"Yes, well, it's occurred to me that perhaps Fitz is hoping that if he pushes you far enough, you'll attempt to make me distance myself from him. And of course Fitz knows that I would never do such a thing, and I wouldn't look kindly on you asking. So…"
"You think he's hoping that if he annoys me enough, I'll sabotage our relationship?" he asks. He has to admit it's an impressively gutsy move. Fitz must have a lot of confidence in his relationship with Jemma to expect her to choose him over her soulmate.
"Subconsciously," Jemma clarifies. "I don't know that he even realizes he's doing it. But you've been remarkably patient with him, so I wanted to thank you for that."
Finished with his push-ups, Grant sits back on his heels.
"I wasn't lying," he tells her. "I meant what I said to Skye. I'm glad you've had someone to support you. I'm glad you've had someone you can trust as much as Fitz. It makes me happy, that you haven't been alone."
For a moment, he considers telling her how he used to think about it, when he was younger. How he used to wish that his soulmate had a loving, supportive family—family she could count on. He decides not to. Their relationship is still in its early stages, and he doesn't want to scare her off.
"Fitz can be annoying," he says instead. "He's definitely done his best to get on my nerves. But I know how much he means to you. I would never want you to lose that."
Jemma beams at him. "Thank you, Grant."
He stands, taking his gloves from the roof of the SUV and pulling them on. He has a feeling he's going to regret this next offer, but in the grand scheme of things, it's honestly not that much.
"Maybe Fitz wouldn't worry so much about it if I…tried to get along with him better," he suggests. "I'll make an effort."
"You'd really do that?" Jemma asks, her eyes wide.
"Sure," he says. "I'll…challenge him to a game of poker. Or something."
Jemma gets to her feet, walks around the punching bag, and hugs him.
"Thank you," she says. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
He hugs her back and presses a kiss to her hair. It's probably going to be an incredibly annoying process, and he's sure he'll need all of his training to keep his cool, but, well. He would do worse to keep Jemma happy.
He has a sinking feeling that, in the future, he will.