A/N: Please note that there is a double update today – it's 2/2

Priorities

Priorities change – it's a well-known and accepted fact, even amongst specialists.

Sometimes they can change even during a mission – you go in with the objective of getting a, let's say, scientist out, then halfway through you get the order to leave the person, and bring the tech only. It's not something anybody likes, but it happens.

Other times priorities – mostly personal priorities – change with time. Sometimes it happens over the course of months, sometimes even years, and sometimes it's instant, fueled by a single event.

For the longest time, Grant Ward was sure that he was immune to these kinds of whims – he was positive that his goal was obvious and his life constant, so he didn't expect any kind of change. Of course then a girl with big brown eyes stormed into his life, turning everything upside down, and now he has to smile at his own naivety.

Back in the day, for example, the first thing he liked to do after a post-mission briefing was getting rid of his overly formal suit, knock bad a scotch and go to sleep as soon as possible, so he might be able to catch a full eight hours. Now it's a completely different story.

He's fidgety during briefing, barely able to wait until he can leave – he never used to be like that before; he used to be cool and calm, completely collected. He still tries to keep up the pretense of this, but Coulson is hard to fool – he only smiles at him in a way that eerily reminds Grant of a schoolteacher (or maybe a father) before letting him go with the condition that he turns in a detailed report within forty-eight hours.

Once he is out of the director's office, he all but sprints down the stairs to the living quarters – but his goal is not his own room.

He opens the door slowly, quietly, not to wake up the possibly sleeping occupant. The room is dim as he steps inside, a single lamp giving soft, ambient light, but it's enough – and as soon as he lays eyes on her, he breaks into a brilliant smile.

Four days without her were four days too long.

"Hello there, princess," he says softly, standing by the crib, looking down at the baby lying inside it.

Haylie's not asleep after all, but is looking up at him, gurgling happily, pushing her tiny fist into her mouth. Babbling nonsense to her he reaches into the crib and gently lifts her out, cradling her against his chest, her warm weight and soft baby smell relaxing him instantly.

"Daddy missed you so much, sweetheart" he tells her, rocking her as he walks to the armchair on the other side of the room. "I hope you were a good girl for mommy."

"Oh, she was," answers a sleepy voice from the direction of the door. "A real angel."

Skye's standing there, bleary eyed and hair ruffled, wearing flannel PJ pants and one of his T-shirts that is way too big on her.

"I heard you on the baby monitor," she explains as she walks into the room. "And to be honest, I want to be a little mad at you for not coming to me first," she continues, setting by his side in the armchair, cuddling to him. "But I can't."

"I didn't want to wake you," he says apologetically, although he can already see Skye's eyelids dropping as she rests her head on his shoulder, one finger stroking their daughter's hand absent-mindedly. He can imagine how draining it must have been for her to take care of Haylie alone while he was away, and he silently vows to take over as much of her care as he can now that he's home, so Skye can rest.

"It's okay," she says, her words almost blurring together. "I never sleep well when you're away anyway. So I'm glad you're back" The last part is barely intelligible, then her eyes finally close and her breathing evens out – she is asleep within a minute, just like Haylie.

And with his two favorite girls in the whole world safely sleeping in his arms, Grant knows with complete certainty that nothing ever will be more important to him than them.