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Ward’s finally managed to figure out the time he needs to get up in the morning to be the first one to use the shower, meaning someone who actually gets a hot shower, because he’s already figured out that you don’t shower after both Skye and Fitz because they both use up all the hot water. Simmons’ showers are too short to be terribly consequential, as are May’s, but you can tell if Skye or Fitz have been in the bathroom before you because you walk into a small cloud of hot, damp air, and all the shiny objects in the room are fogged up.
(In case you were wondering, it’s ridiculously-early-a.m., the time that you need to get up. It’s just as well Skye likes her sleep, and Fitz is very predictable in the times that he does things such as go to sleep, and get up in the morning – Ward has exactly twenty-three minutes until Fitz bangs on the bathroom door because he needs to pee. Ward thinks that only putting two bathrooms on the plane, only one of which actually has a shower, is a severe oversight, and really should be rectified.)
The lock is broken on the bathroom door because Skye managed to lock herself in, and May had to kick it down to get her out so that they could land the plane in relative safety, without Skye being thrown around the bathroom. Ward isn’t entirely sure why Fitz hasn’t fixed the lock yet (he managed to fix the door okay, but the lock is some weird electro-magnetic-touch-pad combination that might be slightly problematic, although if you mentioned that to Fitz, he’d laugh it off) but he’s not entirely comfortable showering knowing that the entire team could walk in and out as they pleased, not that they would.
(He still draws the shower curtain. It’s a precaution. Just a precaution.)
And it’s a very good move.
Ward turns on the hot water (and mercifully, the pipes don’t groan as they usually do, the privilege of being the first one to shower in the morning) and stands there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the hot water (hot! Not warm, or lukewarm, or worst of all, cold) soaking his hair and streaming over his body.
And that’s when the door opens abruptly, and the small room, which had previously been infusing with the warmth of the water, was flooded with cold air that had Ward yelping.
‘Hey!’ he yells.
‘Sorry, Ward,’ Fitz says, awake twenty minutes earlier than he should have been. ‘I drank too much tea las’ night. I need to pee.’
‘There are two other bathrooms on this Bus,’ Ward protests. It’s true. There’s a toilet on the other end of the Bus, and there’s Coulson’s private bathroom if the situation is truly desperate, and if you’re covered in mud, like has happened after a mission (it’s happened twice now, to Ward and to Fitz) the best place to get rid of the majority of the mud is the contamination shower in the lab, which has been utilised by Fitz and Simmons a worrying amount of times.
‘But this one’s closest,’ Fitz says, and the sound of someone peeing was clear.
‘I’m so glad this is convenient for you,’ Ward mutters, reaching up for the shampoo.
Fitz pees for an impressively long time, before flushing the toilet and then Ward is treated to the sound of Fitz whistling as he washes his hands.
‘Are you done, Fitz?’ Ward asks patiently, pouring shampoo into his hands before applying it to his hair.
‘I’m jus’ gonna brush my teeth,’ Fitz announced cheerfully.
‘Of course you are,’ Ward sighed, tipping his head back under the stream of water.
Suddenly, the door opens again, and the rush of cold air is just as jarring as it was before.
‘G’morning, Fitz, Ward,’ Simmons says, and the sound of her voice is enough to have Ward immediately covering himself, despite the fact that there’s a black (SHIELD-branded, of course) shower curtain between them, and she definitely can’t see him.
‘Okay, since when has there been a SHIELD policy requiring as many agents crowding in one very small bathroom all at once?’ Ward asks.
‘Since SHIELD instated the policy requiring only three bathrooms on one plane, and only one near the bunks,’ Simmons says sensibly, while the smell of mint toothpaste wafts through the air, joining with Ward’s shampoo.
Ward yelps when the forgotten suds of shampoo trickle down his face and into his eyes, stinging badly.
‘What’s happened, Ward?’ Simmons asks. ‘Do I need to come in there?’
Ward yelps again, and holds the curtain shut, despite the fact that his eyes are stinging and streaming with tears. ‘Just soap in my eyes because I’m not used to sharing a bathroom while showering.’
‘Well rinse it out properly, Ward, for heaven’s sake,’ Simmons scolds.
‘What do you think I’m doing?!’ Ward says, water streaming over his face and into his eyes, making them sting worse.
Fitz spits loudly into the sink. ‘How did soap get into your eyes in the first place, Ward?’
‘If I hadn’t been distracted by you two while washing my hair,’ Ward grumbles.
The door swings open again, and stays open, and this time, Ward barely even feels the cold. He’s probably getting used to it.
‘Oh, here’s where everyone is,’ Coulson’s voice says.
‘Simmons, why were you even in here?’ Ward asks.
‘I had to pee,’ Simmons says. ‘And Fitz was here.’
Ward blinks. ‘I’m… not entirely sure how those two things connect…’
‘Me either,’ May says dryly, and Ward jumps in surprise. If the wall hadn’t been quite so close enough for him to catch himself, he’d have slipped and fallen, and wouldn’t that have been fun? Simmons probably would’ve insisted on going in to help him up, and that was something he was looking to avoid.
‘Alright then, we may as well have the briefing now,’ Coulson says. ‘Seeing as everyone’s here.’
‘Does no-one mind that I’m in the shower?’ Ward asks, making a gap between the shower curtain and the wall and poking his head through.
‘Not at all, Ward, continue,’ May says airily, waving a hand at him.
‘I… that’s not what I meant,’ Ward says, even as the toilet flushes and Simmons comes into view, heading over to wash her hands.
‘Ward, from the looks o’ things, we aren’t leaving so soon,’ Fitz says as May heads over to the basin to collect her own toothbrush, apparently deciding that now was as good a time as any to take care of her morning ablutions.
Ward sighs, but subsides back behind the curtain, making sure it’s secure and not gaping anywhere before going back to showering, reaching for the hair conditioner.
‘We’re heading for Los Angeles,’ Coulson informs them, as May brushes her teeth. It’s such an… un-May… thing, just the image of her placidly brushing her teeth, just like a normal human being. It’s very easy to forget that any of them are normal human beings. Ward’s half convinced that Coulson was born wearing a suit.
‘Why?’ Simmons asks.
‘SHIELD has detected some abnormal gamma radiation readings in the Santa Monica area, and they want us to go in and get some more thorough readings,’ Coulson says.
‘Oh, gamma radiations,’ Simmons says, and she sounds almost giddy. ‘I’ll go read up on Dr Banner’s latest research. Last time I had to do something with gamma radiation, SHIELD requested that I put all my spectrometers on the roof and set them for gamma radiation… Honestly, not the strangest thing SHIELD has ever asked me to do, but it’s very close.’
Coulson blanches at the though of Banner, and gamma radiation, but no-one notices, or rather, no-one appears to notice, and the briefing continues.
‘Could it be Banner?’ Ward asks, his voice slightly muffled by the shower curtain.
‘No, SHIELD has eyes on Banner,’ Coulson says dismissively. ‘He’s with Stark in New York. Stark doesn’t think we know.’
‘How exactly do we…?’ Fitz trails off, apparently thinking better of asking the question.
‘You’ll go in, you’ll get the data, you’ll figure out the data and we’ll see where we go from there,’ Coulson tells them.
‘That’s… surprisingly vague, sir,’ Simmons objects.
‘I’ve found that when I try to make a very specific plan, it doesn’t work,’ Coulson says dryly.
‘Any plan at all barely works,’ Fitz mutters, forgetting that his voice will echo in the small bathroom.
‘Exactly,’ Coulson replies, while Ward imagines that Fitz’s cheeks are bright red with embarrassment. ‘Ward, you’ll accompany FitzSimmons to the scene. Ward, take the opportunity to teach Skye about field work.’
‘Field work, sir?’ Ward asks, rinsing his hair.
‘Preferably without her getting shot again, Ward,’ Coulson says dryly.
Ward, not expecting that, takes an involuntary step back and almost immediately gets an eyeful of his hair conditioner. He yelps again.
‘Ward?’ Coulson asks.
‘He’s just got soap in his eyes,’ Simmons tells him dismissively.
‘Probably conditioner,’ Fitz adds helpfully.
‘He’ll be okay soon,’ Simmons says.
‘Ward?’ Coulson asks.
‘I’m okay,’ Ward splutters, directing clean water into his eyes and making it sting worse. He was not shaving today. With today’s luck, he’d nick himself multiple times shaving. The team would have to put up with him being stubbly today.
‘Alright then,’ Coulson says uncertainly. ‘What’s our ETA, May?’
‘Three and a half hours,’ May tells him after a pause in which Ward assumes she is consulting her tablet.
‘Good. Everyone get dressed, have breakfast and then get your gear ready,’ Coulson says. ‘Ward, be careful shaving.’
‘I wasn’t planning on shaving at all,’ Ward says honestly.
‘Probably just as well,’ Coulson mutters.
‘I thought SHIELD protocol was for all agents to be properly dressed, shaven, neatly put together, etcetera,’ Fitz mutters. ‘If Ward doesn’t have to shave, do I?’
‘Ward’s not having the best morning,’ May observes.
‘That’s an understatement,’ Ward replies, finally getting the last of the soap out of his eyes. Conditioner was a pain to wash out.
‘I think we can overlook Ward’s not shaving for a day,’ Coulson says.
‘Since when have the matters of my own personal appearance been common knowledge for the team to discuss?’ Ward asks lightly, not entirely expecting an answer.
‘Since the team decided to have a briefing in your shower?’ Fitz suggests.
‘Oh, right, that.’ Ward sighs and wonders if he can get away with staying in the shower for the next three hours so that he doesn’t have to face the fact that he did just take a shower in the presence of his entire team… well, not the entire team. Thankfully, Skye wasn’t here. The snarky (and probably suggestive) remarks she would have made while he was in the shower probably would have resulted in his slipping, or falling over, or getting more soap in his eyes.
‘Well, let’s get out of here,’ Coulson says. ‘Let Ward get dressed in peace.’
‘I would appreciate that, very much,’ Ward agrees, turning off the water.
‘Bags the next shower!’ Simmons says immediately.
‘Oh, but Simmons,’ Fitz protests.
‘I bagsed it, Fitz,’ she replies.
‘You’re already off schedule anyway,’ Ward offers helpfully.
Fitz grumbles under his breath, but Ward assumes that he leaves the bathroom, because the grumbling fades away with his not-quiet footsteps.
‘Thanks, Ward,’ Simmons says gratefully, and walks out after him. Her footsteps are more bouncy than his.
‘Try not to fall over, will you, Ward?’ Coulson suggests. ‘Or I’ll send Skye in to help you up.’
Ward cuts off his own groan and instead sighs. ‘Yeah. I’d like to get out now, so if you could please…?’
‘Oh, of course.’ Coulson’s footsteps padded out of the bathroom, followed by May’s almost imperceptible footsteps and the soft clunk of the bathroom door closing, although unfortunately not locking.
Ward lets out a relieved sigh, and steps out of the shower.
‘Good morning to you too, Ward,’ Skye says from her perch on the closed toilet seat, her legs curled Turkish-style underneath her.
Ward had kind of been expecting her to be sitting there. He can’t be bothered protecting his modesty.
‘How long have you been sitting there?’ he asks.
‘I came in with Simmons,’ she says lightly, holding out his towel.
‘Thanks,’ he mutters, towelling off his hair and face.
‘I knew you wouldn’t be very modest,’ Skye says. To her credit, her eyes are on his face, not… below the belt.
‘Skye, I went through a SHIELD academy. There aren’t many modest SHIELD agents,’ Ward sighs.
Skye shakes her head. ‘I’d hate to go through the SHIELD academy, then.’
Ward squints at her. She’s wearing a pair of tiny satin shorts (that may or may not be actually a pair of men’s boxers, he’s yet to be completely sure) and a too-small camisole that’s torn slightly at the bottom. She’s known to walk through the Bus wearing less.
‘Are those mine?’ he finally decides to ask.
‘Are what yours?’ Skye asks.
‘Those shorts,’ he says succinctly.
Skye glances down at herself, almost surprised to see herself wearing them. ‘Huh. Well, they’re mine now.’
‘Skye!’ he says, wrapping a towel around his waist.
‘Come on, you’re clearly not lacking in the underwear department if you only just noticed that I’ve got them,’ she protested. ‘Would you rather I slept in nothing at all?’
Ward swallows hard and resists the urge to step back in the shower to blast himself with cold water.
‘I, uh…’ Ward pauses for a moment to clear his throat. ‘You can keep them.’
Skye gives him a coy smile. ‘I could give them back right now.’
‘No, no, you keep them,’ Ward says hurriedly, even as she plays with the waistband.
‘Aw, thanks Ward. You don’t want me to get cold at night, do you?’ Skye coos. ‘You know, I pegged you more for a boxer-briefs guy than a boxers guy.’
‘I… vary,’ Ward finally says. He’s not entirely sure how this conversation ended up being a discussion on his underwear choices.
(He’s still thanking his lucky stars he managed to bite off the comment on offering to keep her warm if she gets cold at night. He knows that that will only end up in Skye making suggestive remarks, which will result in him needing a cold shower. Sometimes, Ward hates his remarkable self-control.)
‘When did you even get them?’ he asks.
Skye shrugged. ‘I dunno. Maybe after that time when we had to share the hotel room in Abu Dhabi?’
Ward remembers. Fitz was supposed to share with him, just as Simmons was supposed to share with Skye, but the FitzSimmons had come up with a new scientific idea and if Skye hadn’t swapped with Fitz, neither she nor Ward would have gotten a wink of sleep that night. FitzSimmons turned up to breakfast the next morning both exhausted but exhilarated, and nattered about their new science-y stuff all through breakfast, and fell asleep at lunch. Ward, however, woke up that morning with Skye curled around him, her hair tickling his bare chest, her face half buried in against his neck. She’d woken up with a start, stared at him, declared ‘Meh’ and went back to sleep, her head nestled in against the crook of his neck.
Ward shakes his head at the memory. He had been using them as sleepwear that night. They could’ve gotten mixed in with her things. God knows, he’d never met a SHIELD agent who carried around as much stuff as she did.
‘Yeah, probably,’ he finally agrees. ‘So, why are you in here now, Skye?’
She shrugs. ‘I was bored.’
‘And you decided that watching me take a shower was a great form of amusement?’ Ward asks sceptically.
‘Yeah, kinda,’ she replies lightly before leisurely allowing her eyes to run down and then back up his body. He’s very glad he put the towel on, now.
‘Skye, has anyone told you’re a little strange?’ Ward asks.
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘I don’t pay attention to them.’
He’s glad. He really is. He’s not gonna tell her that, though.
‘Good,’ he says.
He blinks. Okay, maybe he is going to tell her.
She blinks back at him, and then tilts her head to one side. Her gaze examines him again, but this time it’s more critical than admiring.
(It was definitely admiring before. He might not be well known for his people skills, but he’s very good at what he does – observe. And he observed her dark, dilating pupils. He likes her eyes. Said eyes are now staring at him, waiting for an explanation on why he likes the fact that she doesn’t pay attention to people who call her strange.)
‘It’s a good tactical advantage, to be different not only from the enemy, but also from your own side,’ he says lamely. It sounded better in his head. ‘It makes it harder for the enemy to predict what you’re going to do.’
She’s still looking at him with that curious expression on her face, somewhere between wondering and knowing, and then her face clears.
‘That was almost a compliment, Ward,’ she says. ‘The robot almost complimented me. We should check your programming.’
‘Maybe I’m malfunctioning,’ Ward teases in agreement. He also doesn’t know what’s happening to him.
(Or, to be more precise, what she’s doing to him. He’s never like this unless he’s with her.)
‘Or perhaps the Tinman has found his heart,’ she replies, her tone teasing, her eyes dancing. She takes a step closer, while he takes one step back. ‘What’s wrong, Ward? I’m pretty sure you can take me.’
‘Not in a bathroom when I’m only wearing a towel,’ Ward says.
She steps forward. He steps back and silently curses when his back hits the wall of the shower. She’s got him trapped.
‘What happened to “I’m agent Grant Ward and I’m never ever vulnerable even when I’m basically naked and being threatened by a harmless girl in her pyjamas”?’ she asks lightly, doing an impression of Simmons’ impression of him.
Ward’s had enough with this. He takes one step, and he’s almost on her toes. He takes another, and she’s forced to take a step back. Another forward, another back, and it is repeated until she’s the one with her back to the wall. Again, he’s almost on her toes, and he towers over her by almost a total foot. She’s forced to tilt her head back to meet his eyes, which are dark and soulful and she can feel her heart missing beats. He’s so close, he can feel when her breath hitches as it brushes against his face.
He places a hand on the wall on either side of her head and leans in so that he surrounds her, his face only inches from hers, so close she can feel his breath whispering across her face.
‘That girl’s “pyjamas” are my underwear and a singlet that is exposing more skin than it covers,’ he murmurs, ‘and you are far from harmless.’
‘I can’t even knock you down,’ she whispers back. ‘I train and train and it’s great fun taking Fitz down when he least expects it but no matter what I do I can’t take you. I can’t even disarm you.’
‘Skye… you were disarming me, long before you started training,’ he says, allowing himself to rest his forehead against hers, to close his eyes and simply take a moment to breathe her in.
Suddenly, he opens his eyes and steps back, and the air surrounding her is so much more suffocating than it should be.
Ward clears his throat with a nervous cough. ‘I regret taking the first shower now,’ he says huskily.
‘Oh?’ she asks, her voice barely a whisper. It’s as if she’s lost her usually admirable ability to speak.
‘Yeah,’ he replies, the same husky tone to his voice. That, combined with the dark gleam in his eyes, the untidy, rumpled almost-bed-hair, the slight, rough stubble covering his cheeks, the bare skin of his impressively muscled chest, has Skye physically holding herself back from him. She doesn’t trust herself to not jump forward, press her lips to his plump, slightly pouting lips. ‘After you and Fitz had your showers, I’d have no choice but to have a cold shower… and I think now, I wouldn’t want the choice.’
He watches for a moment as she processes this, slowly swallows, and then her eyes meet his.
‘And now if you’ll excuse me,’ he says briskly, making sure his towel is very secure before grabbing his pile of clothing sitting on a stool that he’d been trying to make his way to. ‘I need to get dressed. Try not to take too long… or else you might find your shower invaded on by impatient team members.’
Skye gapes at him for a moment, and watches in silence as he pauses by the door, takes a moment to wink at her (a sultry – and amazingly human – gesture, and one that makes her that much more attracted to him) before slipping out the door.
‘Right,’ she mutters, picking up the stool and placing it against the door to prevent its opening (or at least making it harder to open) before stripping her off her own clothes and stepping into the shower. ‘He may have wanted a hot shower, but I’m gonna need a bloody freezing one.’