Graveyard Shift
Ward generally likes working for S.H.I.E.L.D., regardless of his mission – but there is one thing he just can't stand: monitoring. Literal monitoring, where he has nothing else to do than sit in front of a monitor for hours, keeping an eye on the movements of other agents in an operation he is, technically, not part of.
And that's what he is stuck with right now.
It's all due a stupid, sprained ankle, a slight limp, and a totally manageable pain, which, in Coulson's book, renders him unfit for this mission. The mission that has May and Coulson, and three other level seven agents, who have been completely radio silent for six hour now – all according to protocol –, waiting for the moment when they can act. While he observes the whole thing – the whole nothing – from the Bus's command center, sitting in front of the monitor.
It's three a.m., he is bored, tired, and sick of this whole thing.
FitzSimmons went to bed hours ago, but Skye's still up – she is such a night owl when she has the opportunity to be, and for the last two or three hours his only entertainment have been watching her from the corner of his eye. She mostly keeps her distance, not bothering him, but he still sees her moving around – preparing some midnight snack in the galley, sitting on the couch, alternating between her laptop and tablet, then switching to a glossy magazine, and then returning to the galley for some juice. (He half-thinks that she's still up to keep an eye on him, to show solidarity, but he doesn't exactly let the thought fully form in his mind).
Then at one point she just gives up leaving him alone, and waltzes into the command center.
"Any news?" she asks, chewing on a Twizzlers.
He simply shakes his head. "Nothing. Complete radio silence. But then we didn't exactly expect them get the mark in sight until morning."
She just hums noncommittaly while slowly circling the table. He kind of expects her to say something else, something silly, something unexpected, but she remains silent.
But then the next moment she starts swaying her hips, her arms raised, dancing to some music only she can hear, but moving like she was in some nightclub.
He tries to act unamused, he really does. He sighs audibly, shakes his head and rolls his eyes, turning back towards the monitor. But she's still doing it, getting closer and closer to him, her hips almost bumping into his side. When she reaches down with both hands and ruffles his hair a chuckle finally breaks out of him.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks, finally allowing himself a smile.
Skye shrugs.
"Because this, exactly. You frankly looked like somebody who was about to fall asleep. Now you have some more life in you. You are welcome," she winks at him, actually winks at him, then turns to leave. "Now, I'll leave you to your super secret, super boring op."
He barely waits a beat, and then "Skye?" he calls after her; she stops in an instant, looking at him. "You can stay if you want. I wouldn't mind the company."
She smiles wide, flashing a little teeth.
"Cool," she says, walking back to the command center and pulling up a chair next to him. "What d'you have in mind? To pass time, you know. I spy? Funny anecdotes? Oh, I know! Never Have I Ever! But we'll need some booze for that…"
Grant just can't wipe off the grin from his face – maybe this night won't be that long after all.