A/N: Hey all! So this chapter was prompted by Mary Margaret's fabulous idea again and therealshawn was extremely helpful as well. Also, I think that it will probably be the second last chapter of this fic because I liked the idea so much that I'll probably develop something similar into a full-length fic at some point in the future - follow me to stay posted!

He took a deep breath. This was hardly his area of expertise, but with Ward gone… Steeling his shoulders, he gathered his confidence around him and strode into the seedy bar, the door shutting behind him with a bang that nearly made him jump. However, he held himself together. Barely.

Just follow the plan, he told himself, taking a second to survey his surroundings. The room was dimly lit and the smelled of sour whiskey. He wrinkled his nose - this was not at all his type of place. At the bar, he saw Skye sitting alone. That was part of the plan too, though Fitz was sure that she must have had to turn men away to arrange that. She was breathtaking.

"...another one, here." A snatch of her conversation with the bartender reached his ears as he approached the bar and took the seat one away from hers.

"I'll take one of those too, please," he requested, holding up a hand to catch the man's attention. Really, he had no idea what he had just ordered, but he had heard that line before in some movie and it seemed appropriate. Awkwardly drumming his fingers on the bar, he tried not to stare at Skye - he figured that that might be conspicuous. Or would it be normal? Do men usually stare at women in bars? Or perhaps he should strike up a friendly conversation. But not too friendly, not enough to blow their cover.

Before Fitz had decided on a course of action, the bartender returned with their drinks. Fitz stared at the glass, noticing the dirt encrusted on it and decided not to risk it. Still absently drumming the table, he waited. The plan really was pretty simple, actually. He and Skye were just supposed to blend in and listen, since Coulson suspected that Hydra agents often gather there. All they needed to do was confirm that it was a hangout for the renegade agents and then they could leave.

"Hello, there," a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

Immediately, he straightened up, realizing that he had been hunched over the bar, staring at his drink and muttering to himself. Great, now you look like a crazy person. You are doing a hideous job at blending in. Looking up, he saw that Skye had scooted a seat closer and was leaning towards him. "Uhh...hi?"

"My name's Skye," she offered with a small smile, holding out her hand for him to take. "Yours?"

"Er, uh, Leo. I'm Leo," he said lamely, still not sure how to react. Academy training had never included a course on 'how to go undercover and pick up the girl that you already have a crush on in a bar without tipping off anyone else.' Unfortunately.

"Wow, your accent is super hot," she drawled, putting a hand on his arm and smiling brightly.

Confused, he asked, "Really? Do you really think so?"

"Oh, yes." She batted her eyes at him. He had always thought that it was a stupid move, but somehow she made the gesture adorable.

"Cool." They sat there awkwardly for a couple moments while Fitz mentally kicked himself for being so bad at this small-talk thing. His ineptitude was hardly conducive to their covers. And the fact that he could tell that she was trying not to laugh didn't really make him feel much better about his attempts.

"So," she attempted, again trying to carry the conversation, "what is your favourite…" She paused for a second, obviously thinking, before she finished. "...book? Yeah, book."

Fitz felt his brain turn back on. Books. I can handle books. "Well," he drawled, leaning towards her and absent-mindedly picking up his drink in his excitement, "That is tough. But if we are talking pleasure, I would have to say Lord of the Rings."

"Hmm," she murmured noncommittally, sipping her drink and nodding.

"You've read them, right?"

"...I saw the movies. Close enough?"

Forgetting the drink held in his hands, Fitz gestured in mild outrage. "You've never read…" He stopped, horrified, as he watched the amber liquid from his glass fly through the air towards her and splatter all over her dress and hair. Her gasp jolted him out of his horror, and he immediately called to the bartender for a napkin, all the while mentally berating himself for being the most stupid, clumsy, idiotic man on the planet. "I am so, so sorry," he gasped, his face turning a bright red.

"It's fine," she muttered, her teeth clenched together tightly. He couldn't tell if she was suppressing laughter or murderous outrage, but he fervently hoped for the former.

The bartender arrived with the napkins, and Fitz attempted to help soak up the excess liquid that had pooled into a puddle on her lap, but she waved him off.

Sighing, he sat back on his stool and put his face in his hands, refusing to look at her. It was embarrassing, really, how badly he had managed to mess up this undercover mission. Everyone in the bar had stared at them - so much for not attracting attention. And they were still no closer to identifying any Hydra agents.

An hand touched his elbow.

Looking up, he saw a tall, lean man standing next to him, swaying slightly. Fitz wrinkled his nose in disgust - a drunk. Great. "'Scuse me," the man slurred, ""Low me to help the lady, here." He leered at her.

"We're good," Skye interjected coldly.

Apparently not too interested in helping, the man just shrugged at the rejection and started to walk away.

Crash.

Whirling quickly, Fitz saw the man lying on the wooden bar floor, groaning pitifully. The remains of Fitz's drink had soaked the floorboards, making the surface slick - the drunk had never stood a chance. His mind working quickly, he leapt from his stool and offered the man a hand up. "Come on, buddy. Up now." As he pulled the drunk to his feet, he noticed two guns carefully hidden within the man's leather jacket. His suspicions confirmed, he patted the man on the back and returned to Skye.

"Well?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

Smiling slightly, he commented quietly, making sure that no one was within earshot, "Armed. Two guns."

"I think that he can safely assume that this was a success, then." She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. "Coulson can start making plans for a raid."

"Good work," he smiled shyly at her. "Can we go back to the hotel now?"

That elicited a laugh from Skye. "I guess you're better at this than you thought," she smiled at him winsomely, "considering that I'm going home with you."

It felt like his eyebrows leapt off and off his head in shock as his eyes widened. "What?"

"Nevermind," she winked at him. "Let's go."

As they strolled out, Fitz was again shocked, but also pleased, as she gently slipped her hand into his. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this after all.

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