Dress Code
The Playground had nice, thick brick walls, excellent for keeping the heat out during summer – for a while. But even those walls had their limit, and they had hit that around the fifth day of the merciless heat wave that had been plaguing the D.C. area for over a week. And, despite of the state of the art security system, the building that housed the base was still pretty old, hence no air conditioning, so by day nine the hallways felt like a sauna.
And yet Ward was wearing turtleneck sweaters.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Jemma asked, worried for him, on the third morning after the strange appearance of his winter wardrobe, reaching for his forehead. "You are not running a fever, are you?"
Grant quickly ducked, avoiding Jemma's touch. No, he was not alright. He was sweating bullets, feeling like he was stuck in an oven, but he just couldn't take that damned sweater off.
"I'm fine, I swear. It's just…" he said instead, trying to come up a sensible explanation for his outfit. "I like this sweater."
Jemma frowned a little at his words.
"But doesn't it make you feel hot?"
"Yes, mate," Fitz quipped in, pushing his chair back from the desk and leaning back a bit. The lab was one of the coolest places in the whole Playground, and yet he was down to a T-shirt and shorts. Grant envied him. "I don't know how you can bear it, because this heat is starting to drive me crazy."
"Heat? What heat?" Grant asked with a forced smile as he unsuspiciously started walking towards the door. "It's nothing. I've had worse."
"Still, you could shed some layers, y'know," Fitz continued, with Jemma confirming his words with a firm nod. "It wouldn't hurt."
"Yeah, well… I'll think about it." And with that, he was out of the lab.
He all but sprinted down the hallway to the bunk he shared with Skye (well, not really sprinted – the last thing he needed was things that rise body temperature), and as soon as the door closed behind him, he pulled the sweater off, throwing it to the corner. Skye, who was lounging on the bed, reading a magazine, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a bra (due to his current situation his delight at the sight of her was overshadow by envy), raised her head at his entrance.
"You okay, babe?" she asked with faux innocence, like she had no idea of what was going on. Hah, as if…
Grant simply grunted in response and marched into the bathroom to put splash some cold water on himself. Standing by the sink, he turned his head to the side to inspect the side of his neck – yep, the angry, red marks were still there; the one at the juncture of his neck already half-faded, but the one on his throat from last night still livid.
Skye sneaked up to him from behind and, wrapping her arms around his middle, she pressed a kiss against hi shoulder blade, then in the sweetest, most mischievous voice she said, "Payback is a bitch, right, hon?"