Chapter Text
For the second time in two weeks, Ward wakes up to a naked Skye in his bed.
Honestly, he could probably blame Coulson for this one. It was Coulson’s idea to park the bus outside some tiny Australian town and buy them all a round (or several rounds) of drinks to celebrate. Ward remembers how much their drunkenness had seemed to amuse the locals, who all seemed to wear wide-brimmed hats and talk in a broad accent that he could barely understand (although that could have been because he was drunk).
Truthfully, though, the difference between this time and the last is that this morning, Ward isn’t hungover (well, not badly). This morning, he can remember every detail of last night in crystal clarity. He stares at Skye’s back and wonders what they’re going to do now.
Abruptly, she snorts, rolls over, and falls out of bed. Ward hears the thud as she hits the floor, followed by a grumble of pain.
“Skye,” he says quickly, while she can’t see him. “Don’t freak out.”
There’s silence from the floor, and then Skye’s head appears over the edge of the bed. She stares at him with wide eyes in an elfin face surrounded by a cloud of hair and Ward tries to smile, awkwardly.
“Crap,” she says. “Bugger. Damn.”
“We don’t have to tell anyone,” Ward says quickly.
She stares at him, and then she stands up and starts grabbing her clothes. Ward watches as she tugs on underwear and fastens her bra. She picks her jeans up off the floor and shakes them out.
“This can never happen again,” Ward says as she steps her legs into the jeans and hops a little to pull them up.
Skye fixes him with a cold, narrow-eyed look as she turns her shirt inside out and pulls it over her head. She pulls her hair out of the collar, puts her ugg boots on her feet and then yanks a hooded jumper on and walks towards the door.
Right before she gets there, Ward says, “Skye?”
She turns around, hair spilling out of her hood, framing her face. “What?”
He doesn’t know what, so he says, “Nothing,” and watches her walk out.
Ward’s leaving the hotel when he bumps into May – literally. She looks over her shoulder and glares at him.
“Sorry,” Ward apologises.
She glances around, and then leans closer and says, “I’m surprised I didn’t see you in my room last night.”
Ward grimaces before he can stop himself. Was she expecting him? He’s really screwing everything up right now (and screwing everyone but that’s really not something he should feel proud of). “I was exhausted,” he lies. “I just crashed.”
May nods. Ward has the horrible feeling that she doesn’t believe him – or maybe he’s just being paranoid.
After they’ve all boarded the bus and taken off again, bound for who-knows-where, Ward finds time to pull Skye aside.
“What?” she asks. She’s mad at him. He doesn’t know why. “Haven’t we already covered the ‘accidental sex’ speech?”
“Just… the same rules apply,” he tells her. “You can’t talk to anyone about this.”
She seems to deflate, just a little bit. “How did we even let this happen, Ward?”
“We were both drunk,” he offers.
Skye shakes her head. “That’s not a good enough reason.” She frowns. “Look, just stay away from me for a while, okay? I need a break.”
Ward’s offended, although he tries not to show it. “Sure,” he says callously. “That’s fine by me. I could ask May to train you if you want.” The second he offers, he regrets it. That would absolutely prove to May that something is going on. Damn.
“Yeah, well, I guess that’s a good idea then,” Skye snaps at him. “Ask her.”
“I don’t know why you’re acting like this is my fault!” Ward snarls. “It’s not like this was one-sided. It takes two to tango, Skye.”
She scoffs. “I can’t believe you just said that. It takes two to tango? Really?” Ward shrugs, and Skye steps forward and pokes him, hard, in the chest. “Listen, buddy, you kissed me first. And everyone knows that if someone kisses me while I’m drunk then I’m going to kiss them back.”
“I did not!” he protests. He searches his mind, remembers staring at Skye sitting next to him at the bar, her lips wet with beer, laughing, tossing her hair over her shoulder. He leaned in and… oh.
“You did,” Skye insists.
He looks at his feet. “Fine. I did.”
Skye sighs heavily. “It’s like you said this morning, Ward. This can never happen again. So you need to stay away from me.”
He watches her walk away and his throat feels tight. He’s done something very, very wrong.
“Sir,” he tries. “I was wondering if May should take over Skye’s training for a bit.”
Coulson just stares at him. “Is there something going on between you and Skye, Ward?”
“What? No! Of course not.” He’s lying through his teeth. “But we were talking about what it’s like being a woman in SHIELD, and I thought – I can’t really teach her about that. And I’m sure it’s a very different experience, so I thought-”
“It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of deep thinking about this,” Coulson says wryly.
Ward winces, and thinks, oh god, he knows. “Sir, it’s just that-”
He’s interrupted again. “It’s a fine idea, Ward. I don’t have a problem with it. Why don’t you suggest it to May?”
“Uh, I was hoping maybe you could do that.”
Coulson looks meaningfully down at the stack of papers on his desk. Ward takes the hint, and backs out of the office.
“Coulson suggested that you train Skye for a while,” he tells May, seeking her out in the cockpit. “So that she can get… you know, a different experience.”
May looks at him coolly. “Coulson said that.”
“Yes.” Ward is racking up an incredible tally of lies today.
“All right.” She looks away from him into the wide open blue of the sky, and Ward knows he’s been dismissed.
He goes down to find Skye, but she’s not in the lab. “Where’s Skye?” he asks Fitz.
The engineer shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Ward groans, and then says, “Tell her she’s going to be training with May for a few weeks, okay?”
Fitz looks puzzled, but Ward dashes upstairs before the other man has a chance to say anything.
Honestly, Ward just doesn’t feel like any more lies right now.