Story of a T-Shirt in Four Acts

I.

When he got back to the team, after months practically spent on the run, all his earthly possessions fit into a duffel bag – some weapons, a cell phone, a handful of clothes, and that was about it (and a picture of Skye; somehow he managed to hold onto that). Moving back to the Playground, this time taking a bunk, not Vault D, he hoped he'll get his old stuff back, the things he had left on the Bus, but it turned out it had been all thrown out when he was incarcerated. So his wardrobe remained to consist of two pair of jeans and a half a dozen simple black T-shirts.

At least until one night he found a parcel in front of his door.

It was crudely wrapped a sparkling gift wrapper, taped at seemingly random places, wrapped around with a red ribbon. There was even a note attached, written in Skye's familiar, looping scrawl: "Take it as a peace offering?"

Ripping off the paper, he found two things inside – a paperback book, titled The Hunger Games (the title rang some bells; he distinctly remembered Skye mentioning it once), and another black T-shirt. Well, at least at first he thought it was a simple black T-shirt, but then he folded it out, and just couldn't help laughing. With a picture of a cat riding a horse in the most overdramatic manner, it was about the most ridiculous thing he has ever seen.

The whole package felt personal, heartfelt, and so much Skye it made his heart flutter. So if she meant it as a peace offering, well, then she more than succeeded.

II.

He donned his new shirt proudly the next morning – he wanted to show Skye that he much appreciated her gift, and maybe, maybe he hoped that her seeing him in this would at least prompt a smile from her (heavens, he had missed her smile), and, at best case scenario, would lead to some lighthearted, teasing conversation between them.

But then as he got to the galley, his world shattered a little.

"Nice shirt, Ward," Trip called to him in a not at all unfriendly manner. And he had the same shirt on.

Well, not exactly the same one – his had the shape of a cat filled with a picture of a salami pizza, placed in space for some reason. But still, the mentality was the same.

"Thanks," he answered after a little pause. "Yours, too. Where'd get it?"

"Got it from Skye for my birthday," Trip answered with a wide, some might say smitten, smile on his face. "It's cool, isn't it?"

"Yeah, cool," Grant mumbled, suddenly not so interested in seeing Skye, or having breakfast, for that matter.

Suddenly, not even her gift seemed that personal.

III.

So he might have been moping a little, hiding away in the gym and hitting the sandbag until his knuckles hurt.

It was stupid, he knew – feeling kind of-almost betrayed because Skye had bought a similar T-shirt for Trip. It was not like he had a right to feel that way. Despite the last week or so, when he had earned his place back on the team, he and Skye were nowhere near where they had used to be. He had no right to feel jealous of Trip.

Damn.

What if they were together?

Sure, last time he checked – months and months ago – Trip had a thing for Simmons, but still… What if in his absence Trip and Skye got together, and that's why she bought him that silly T-shirt? (Which, of course, raised the question of why he had gotten one, but his jealousy-fueled mind refused to think about that.)

The thought of Trip and Skye made him turn and hit the wall with such a force that, despite the padding, his knuckles cracked. He hissed at the pain, pulling his hand close to his chest right away.

"That must've hurt," he heard Skye's voice from behind his back.

IV.

She walked to him casually, taking his hand into hers and gently unwrapping it. He let her without saying a word.

"I don't think it's broken," she said after a quick examination, "but you still should put some ice on it. Come on, I'll walk you to the kitchen." She smiled at him, and he could have sworn she winked. "And on the way you could tell why are you so mad at that poor wall."

The corner of Grant's mouth twitched as he, a little shamefully, followed her out of the gym.

"It's just…" he sighed. "Is there… Is there anything between you and Trip?"

Skye stopped in her tracks.

"Why would you…?" Then she facepalmed herself. "The cat shirt."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Damn, Robot," she breathed, seemingly halfway between being amused and annoyed. "Yes, there's something between me and Trip," she said, looking him square in the eye. "He's like a big brother to me. He looks out for me, and I love him for it – as a brother. And you are important to me, too." She reached for his uninjured hand and gently squeezed it. "I meant what I wrote – the gift was a peace offering, because I want us to work ourselves back to the point where we were before this whole shebang started. You know, opening up to each other and then making out at the most unfortunate times?"

A hopeful little smile appeared on his face.

"You really mean that?"

He could have sworn she blushed.

"Yeah. You have a way of making me feel like crazy. And… I'd like to explore what we could be – you know, when the two of us becomes "us"."

"I'd like that too."

"Great. Now that we have discussed it, let's get some ice for your hand." And with that, she started walking again, and he followed her, but after a moment she stopped, and turned towards him again. "But one thing: please, don't read too much into a T-shirt. I mean, at least not until it's on me and I'm pulling it off in front of you."