Miscommunication

When Skye asked him if he wanted to go out and explore the nearby town on their day off while the Bus was going through maintenance, he said yes right away. As happy as he was about their fledging relationship, the stolen moments of intimacy with her on the Bus weren't nearly enough; he desperately needed some real alone time with her.

And on the top of it all, he had actually been to this charming Italian town before, although, to be honest, he didn't see much of it – but it was enough for him to start planning their romantic little stroll along the cobblestoned streets, and the candlelit dinner at one of the family-owned, little ristorantes. And the plan was looking better and better in his head by the minute.

So of course it went up in smoke even before it started – because he wasn't the only one she invited.

He tried not to be – or at least look – too bitter as they stood on some fifteenth century stone bridge, looking at some fifteenth century villa in the distance, while Simmons blabbered about the Italian Renaissance, with Fitz quipping in sometimes, and Skye listening to them wide-eyed, licking her gelato.

Grant let out a slightly irritated sigh, leaning against the balustrade. It wasn't as if he didn't like Fitz and Simmons – they were the little brother and sister he wished he had, but damn, he so didn't want to have them around right now; he didn't need chaperones, stealing away the time he could have spent with Skye. Alone. Because today he wanted play… well – forgive the lack of creativity –, Romeo, at least without the part with the suicide. And there he was, stuck with the role of the babysitter. (For which he was kind of mad at Skye, too. After all, it was her fault that they didn't get the romantic date he envisioned.)

"Hey, Robot," Skye stepped up to him suddenly, leaving FitzSimmons behind for a while, a faint smile on her lips. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he replied, trying not to grumble.

She frowned – of course; not matter how hard he would try to hide his irritation from her, she read him like a book (which still unnerved him a little). Of course she would catch up.

"Do you want to try again?"

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand through his hair.

"It's just…" he started, trying to find the right words. "It's not exactly what I planned."

Skye tilted her head in curiosity, prompting him to go on.

"I thought we'd be alone?" he told her, his sentence sounding a lot more like a question than he intended to be. "I wanted to make it romantic for you – because we haven't really had the chance for that yet. So I thought we'd take a walk, and then I was going to show you this house which has this legend attached to it – I even looked it up for you –, then I thought we could go to the park–"

That was how far he got in his monologue, because then Skye placed her hand in his forearm, rose to her tip toes and kissed him, silencing him. Her lips were soft, warm from the Tuscan sun, and tasted faintly of vanilla ice-cream. He closed his eyes and got lost in the kiss for a moment.

"Do you have any idea what an adorable dork you are sometimes?" she told him, grinning up at him when they pulled away. "Because you are. Honestly, nobody has ever put so much thought into a date with me before, and it really means a lot to me. And I'm sorry – I had no idea you had plans like these."

"It's okay, really…" he started, still a little lightheaded from the kiss.

"No, it's not," she interrupted him, lacing their fingers together. "I was an ass, not even asking you if it was okay if FitzSimmons came along. Sorry," she repeated, pecking him on the cheek.

"Apology accepted," he told her, his anger having suddenly evaporated. Skye gave him a conspiratory look.

"Is there any parts in your date plan that are still salvageable?" she asked almost cheekily.

He caught up to her train of thought rather quickly; he grinned and leaned down, stealing a kiss.

"Of course."

"Then what do you say we hitch the science twins, and as apology, I buy you some coffee?"

"I say I love how your mind works."

She grinned and sneaked an arm around his waist, letting him lead her away from the bridge without Fitz and Simmons noticing them leave.

(When they got back to the Bus just before midnight, they had to face the pissed off Simmons and Fitz, who was rather literally worried sick about them, but it was still so worth it.)