A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I hope this story was worth the wait :)

Playing Dirty

Grant was absolutely sure about one thing: Skye was sent to him by some higher power – it's just he hadn't managed to figure out yet whether it was Heaven – to save him –, or Hell – to torment him.

"Are you busy?" she asked, standing opposite of him and leaning over the table in the Bus's command center.

He resisted looking up. He'd made that mistake before – he glanced up when she entered, and that one glance was enough to assess that she was only wearing a thin, white tank top, with no bra underneath. All within reach. Things had been a tad uncomfortable for him ever since.

"Rather busy," he replied, eyes firmly glued to the touchscreen as he typed in another coordinate. He really was busy – HQ wanted these tactical reports by the next morning, so he'd better finish them soon, and… Yeah. He was busy. He had no time to play games right now (no matter how much he wanted to play, especially with her).

"It's a shame," Skye cooed, squirming a little in the corner of his vision. He could practically see her breasts pushed together as she rested her elbows on the table, which made him gulp. He had absolutely no illusions about her noticing it. "Because I thought…" She stepped around the table, getting closer to him, moving in a tantalizingly slow pace (okay, so today she was playing dirty), "…that since we have the Bus for ourselves for a bit, we could have a little… fun."

Damn her. Why did she have to have such great ideas, presented in such an alluring voice?

"Sorry," he managed to croak out. "Maybe later," he added with considerable effort, because he had an idea of what she had in mind, and damn, he was all up for it.

"But don't you want to take a break?" She insisted in a tone that let him know that she knew she was winning. "I'm sure you have more than deserved it. And we wouldn't even have to move from here – I could help you relax right here."

By then she was standing right next to him, so close that he could feel her body heat radiating from her body. Yep, she was winning.

"I don't think that Coulson would appreciate if we desecrated his command center," he said bluntly with a resigned sigh, trying to sound reasonable, before looking up. It was a mistake – up this close he could see her dark nipples, hardened to pebbles in the cool room, peeking through the thin fabric of her tank. He swallowed hard.

"What Coulson doesn't know," she said, trailing a finger down his arm, "that doesn't hurt him," she smiled at him coyly.

That was it; even he had his limits.

Reports to be damned (he'd finish them later), he grabbed her hips and pulled her close, attacking her lips with his own – thankfully she'd been expecting this, so she moved in synch with him, raising her head and offering herself to him, while her hands found their way under his shirt, pushing the fabric up as she clawed at his abs, making him growl.

God, this girl knew how to play him and get him worked up in the matter of seconds.

Thankfully he had enough common sense left to turn off the table first, before he reached under her thighs and hoisted her onto the table to gain better access. She used this momentary pause in their kiss to pull off his shirt – he didn't complain, in fact, he helped her shrug it off then toss it to the corner of the table before, inspired by her actions, he pushed her tank up, freeing her breast and burying his face between the soft mounds, while simultaneously grinding his denim-clad groin against her core, making her slide her fingers into his hair and throw her head back, moaning in ecstasy.

He had to admit, he was rather enjoying himself (not that it was news – sex with Skye had always been spectacular). But christening the command center – an area of the Bus all of them frequently used – was new, and he would have been lying if he said it didn't excite him.

Raising his head from between her breasts, he moved his mouth to her neck, sucking at the delicate skin there, making her squirm, while his fingers played with her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him against her, so he could feel the heat radiating from her core even through the layers of fabric separating them, and this sweet torture made his cock twitch.

He gently peeled her legs from his body then, stepping back and reaching for her belt, eager to get her jeans off and get a taste of her and make her scream his name and–

He froze, listening.

No, he shook his head – it was just his minds playing tricks on him, nobody was on the Bus, just the two of them…

And then again.

"What?" Skye asked, sounding a bit annoyed as her hands sneaked around him and slid into the back pockets of his jeans, squeezing his ass.

Footsteps.

"Somebody's coming," he whispered, then, in his suddenly raising panic, he lifted Skye from the table and, quite ungracefully, dropped her to the floor in front of him, so the table concealed her from anybody entering the room. (He really didn't need Coulson to catch then in flagrante delicto. He was on thin ice with his commanding officer as it is.)

Skye was just about to complain, but the next moment somebody really did poke his head into the command center – only it wasn't Coulson.

"Hi," Fitz blinked at him in surprise. "What are you doing here? And why are you shirtless?" he asked Grant, eyebrows rising.

Time to call his training to mind.

"Reports," Grant said in a slightly strained voice. "I'm writing reports for HQ. And I… I spilled coffee on my shirt," he added, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible – as if it was completely normal to stand shirtless in the deserted command center.

Fitz blinked, trying to process this, then his gaze flickered towards the bunched up white fabric on the table's closest corner to him.

"Oh, that sucks," he said, his voice full of sympathy, not even registering that there were no coffee mugs in the room – he had either just woken up and was still groggy, or his mind was too preoccupied with coming up with some new gadget to function properly. Either way, it was working for Grant's favor. "Do you want me to soak it for you?" he asked helpfully.

"No, thanks," Grant said, quickly snatching up the garment from the table before Fitz could have picked it up and realized that there were, in fact, no stains on it. "I'll do it in a moment, I'll just finish my reports first."

Fitz blinked at the table.

"The table is turned off," Fitz observed, stepping closer.

"Yeah, it's, er…" Grant stuttered, trying to sound not too guilty. "I had to restart it. There were some problems with the software."

"Really?" Fitz mused – thankfully still seeming to be completely oblivious to the situation –, then moved to step beside Grant. "Do you need any help with it?"

"No!" Grant said maybe a little too quickly, stopping Fitz. "I mean, no, thanks," he corrected himself, running a hand through his hair. "It's okay. It works now, see?" He said, turning the table on as demonstration. "I'll ask Skye to take a look at it later."

And speaking of Skye…

Although she was completely silent and managed to keep mostly still until this point, not giving her presence away, now he could feel her skillful little hands ghosting around his groin, grabbing his zipper and pulling it down tooth by tooth.

His whole body tensed.

The idea was more than appreciated, and in any other situation he would have eagerly buried his hand in her long locks, encouraging her, because damn, there were things she could do with her mouth, but now – really, Skye?

Yes, she was definitely going to be the death of him.

Not being able to bat her away without drawing attention to her presence, he clenched his jaw and tried to remain unresponsive while looking Fitz in the eye.

He was so going to make her pay for this.

"O-okay" Fitz said tentatively. "Where is she, anyway?"

"I have no idea," Grant answered, his voice rising with the last word as Skye pulled him free and ran a finger along his length. Damn that woman.

"Huh," Fitz said simply, giving him a little shrug. "I'll tell her you are looking for her if I see her, okay?"

"Thanks, Fitz," Grant nodded at him, his voice a little strained, as it was the exact moment when Skye thought it was time to take him into her mouth. He almost groaned out loud when her lips wrapped around him.

"It's nothing," Fitz assured him, smiling, then jerked a thumb towards his bunk. "I'll just quickly grab something from my bunk, then I'll be down in the lab if you need me," he told him, waited for Grant's acknowledging nod, then turned around and left the command center.

Grant counted to ten in mind – which was a difficult task in itself, because he was half sure he didn't have enough blood left in his head for his brain to function –, waiting for Fitz to get out of hearing range, then leaned down, grabbed Skye's elbows, and helped her to her feet (he groaned at the loss of contact).

She look entirely too innocent and too proud of herself as he looked into her eyes.

"You vixen," he told her in the sternest voice he could muster, making her grin at him mischievously. "One day you're going to destroy me."

She almost laughed out loud.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it?" she asked, sneaking a hand down between them, wrapping her fingers around him.

He thought it'd be in his best interest no to answer that.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from him (God, he missed her touch right away), then looked over her shoulder to see if Fitz was gone by then. The coast clear, he turned her around, and playfully slapped her butt.

"You, to your bunk," he told her. "I'll be with you in five minutes."

She looked back from the door of the command center, giving him a grin that told him he was in trouble.

"I'll be waiting for you," she winked, then she was gone.

Grant sighed, tucking himself back into his pants. He had a total of five minutes to come up with something to repay her favor – although, to be honest, he was sure she'd already won this round.

(And he was also absolutely positive that she would be completely naked and waiting for him when he got to her bunk – a mental picture that made it extremely difficult for him to think.)