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“You’re up early.”
Coulson looked up, already knowing that he would find May leaning against the door-frame.
“I could say the same for you.” He replied, giving her a warm smile, looking away from the screen in front of him for the first time in almost half an hour.
May stepped into the room, folding her arms over her chest.
“How are the kids?” She asked.
“Skye’s finally drifted off. Ward’s watching over them like some kind of hawk-statue combination. I’m almost afraid to go in. He might mistake me for a threat to the nest.” May raised her eyebrow.
“I’m sure he would recognise a fellow hawk-statue.” She teased dryly. Coulson put up his hands.
“Okay, you got me. I’m just concerned. They went through a lot yesterday.” May was standing beside him now, resting against the computer table and facing the screen.
“I’m worried too. Doesn't mean I’m spying on them.” She chastised him lightly.
“Well we could always go and join them.” He said, jerking his head ever-so-slightly towards the door with a wide grin. May’s stoic expression didn't change.
“They look comfortable.” Was all she said in response. Coulson had to admit that they did, strangely.
The four of them had crammed themselves into Simmons’ room. Coulson had no idea who’d arrived first, or whether Jemma had asked for company but the fact remained that there were four fully grown adults crammed into one tiny sleeping pod.
Ward was lying in the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling as though it held the answers to the existence of the universe. Simmons was against the wall, back resting against Ward and her hands gripping his even in her sleep, his arm trapped beneath her torso. If it bothered him he wasn't letting on.
Skye was on the door side of the bed, snuggled in to Ward’s chest with one leg twisted over one of his. Fitz had curled himself up at the foot of a bed like a cat, contenting himself with holding on to Simmons’ ankle as though he was afraid she might float away.
“I’m putting on a pot of coffee. Want some?” May asked, her voice penetrating Coulson’s thoughts.
“Hm? Oh, yes. That would be great. Make sure there’s enough for -”
“Ward. I’m aware that we’re going to have a grouchy one on our hands today.” She finished his sentence and gave him one her rare smiles.
She turned to walk out of the room and had almost made it to the door when Coulson stopped her.
“Melinda. Am I old?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I hope not. I’m your age.” With that she was gone, leaving Coulson to laugh in an empty room. He gazed back at the screen.
Skye shifted, pushing herself higher with her feet and consequently covering Ward’s face in hair. Carefully he slipped his arm from around her and brushed it away, then just as carefully slipped his arm back.
“Go to sleep Ward.” Coulson said into the intercom, unable to stop the smile on his face from coming out in his tone.
“My left hand’s already there, sir.” Ward replied, trying to wiggle his fingers useless against Simmons' vice-like grip.
“Well you should follow its lead.” Coulson could see the younger agent’s jaw moving, knew that he was conflicted between ‘protecting’ his colleagues and giving into his body’s needs.
If you told Grant Ward to walk into a building of two dozen armed hostiles and come out with an important file, he’d do it without asking. Ask him to shut off and get some damned sleep and you might as well ask a fish to start flying.
Reluctantly Ward closed his eyes. By the time May came back into the room with a hot pot of coffee and two mugs less than a minute later, he’d already fallen asleep.