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When Jemma found out, she was seething. How could Ward do something so awful and think he could get away with it; to just callously chuck something so carelessly away, into the murky waters to die?
She watched from the shadows as the Specialist sat unassumingly in the empty room.
At first Jemma had been beyond upset, she was livid, sure they hadn’t been the best of friends, but she hadn’t thought him capable of something so cruel. However as she saw him sitting there alone, her nurturing nature got the best of her and she began to doubt herself, suddenly unsure if she could do this, pull something like this off, for while Ward needed to pay for what he had done to Fitz, Jemma wasn’t sure she was capable of something so horrible.
Everything had value, even things without a heart. The thought of destroying something, anything made her stomach turn.
“You can’t back down Simmons.” Skye’s voice was just above a whisper as she joined Jemma in the shadows. “Think of Fitz, he deserves justice,”
Jemma thought of her dear sweet friend and knew that Skye was right, but still… “Isn’t this just repeating the cycle of violence? This is how vendetta’s and blood feuds begin?”
“Trust me, once you do this, Ward will know that he can’t mess with you two science ducklings, that even if you didn’t pass your field tests, you are still capable of vast amounts of damage.”
“He deserves to pay for what he did, but he’s a specialist, how am I going to get close enough to do any damage?”
“You’ve been studying everything you could get your hands on from the HUB’s video archive on how to move like a ninja, plus I’ve seen you doing Tai Chi with May every morning, this should be a cake walk for you.”
Jemma rolled her eyes at Skye’s terminology but knew the hacker was right. Ward needed to pay and Fitz wasn’t the type to seek revenge; that had always been her angle, one that frightened those who had pissed her off enough to be on the receiving side of her less than sunny disposition.
“Just remember what May told you, he’s got a soft spot for you,” Skye wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “so he won’t see what’s coming until it’s too late.”
Nodding resolutely Jemma stepped out of the shadows and towards the Specialist, “Hello Ward.”
Batting of the eyelashes and 7 seconds later…
Ward stared at the ground, tears threatening to form as he looked at the now destroyed Georgetown Cupcakes Toasted Marshmallow cupcake.
The decadent, carefully crafted, only available in January (it was June and he had sweet talked the girl at the shop into making him one), Valrhona chocolate cupcake topped with a toasted marshmallow frosting was one of the few vices that Ward allowed himself, the one sweet thing he craved whenever they were in Boston, and now it lay in an upside-down disaster on the floor.
Skye was laughing hysterically as she tried to steady her phone in her hand to capture the look of absolute horror on her S.O.’s face. Fitz, upon hearing the ruckus had come out of his bunk, took in the scene and had pieced together exactly what happened, although it didn’t stop him from asking Skye to replay the full video for him.
Ward was too busy mourning his beloved cupcake, debating whether or not to pick what he could off the floor in an attempt to salvage what he could, when Simmons’ petite Chuck Taylor encased foot came down, smashing the dessert beyond recovery.
Looking up at her with such sad puppy dog eyes, Jemma almost felt sorry for destroying the one vice he allowed himself. “Why?”
“That was for throwing Fitz’s prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella with just a hint of pesto aioli sandwich to the rats. Perhaps now you know how he felt.” And with a satisfied nod of the head she sauntered off, high-fiving Fitz as she passed by.
Later that night when Ward was lying in his bunk, still mourning the cupcake he never had the chance to eat when there was a soft knock on the door.
He knew just by the gentle rap on the door who it was, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to see her, so he just grunted in response, hoping she’d get the message.
The door slid open and Grant sighed, Of course she wouldn’t. “What do you want Simmons?” he glanced at her out of the corner of is eye, noting her hands behind her back and apologetic expression, “There’s no food in here for you to destroy.”
She bent her head in shame, “Yes, about that,” she cleared her throat and approached him cautiously, “I should have warned you that Fitz and I are rather protective of one another,” he raised an eyebrow, the yea, so I’ve noticed was implied.
“And when I overheard him telling Skye that you tossed the sandwich I had worked so hard to prepare for him into the dirty sewer water,” she glared at him, but rather than finding it intimidating, Grant thought it was adorable, “I just lost it. He won’t ever admit it, but he was picked on a lot at the Academy, for being so smart so young, and when we were assigned to this team, I thought he’d finally make a friend in you,” she smiled softly as a look of guilt passed through Grant’s eyes, “He looks up to you, you know.”
She let her words sink in for a beat before revealing what she had hidden behind her back.
“Anyway, I figured you couldn’t really understand why I was so mad, and he was so devastated, so I made you a sandwich of your own.” She handed him the neatly wrapped sub. Smiling as he cautiously reached for it, “I didn’t spike it with anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” She rolled her eyes, but there was laughter behind the action.
“Consider this my penance, as much as I’m upset you so callously threw Fitz’s sandwich away, I can’t condone the destruction of something so delicious. But you still owe Fitz an apology. He’s never had someone who he could look up to like a brother, you know?”
Grant nodded, and silently hoped he wasn’t too damaged from his own experiences with brothers that he couldn’t be a good influence on the young Scot.
She smiled softly at him before making her exit, “Oh, I know you don’t like pesto, and since buffalo mozzarella prosciutto is Fitz’s thing, I created a sandwich for you. You’re a hard man to read Grant Ward, but I think I got that,” she eyed the sandwich in his hands, “right.” Blushing softly she turned to leave, “Good night Ward.”
Slowly unwrapping the sandwich Ward smiled.
The next morning Jemma woke to find a note had been slipped under her door.
Part of the reason I was so annoyed with Fitz and his sandwich was that he had someone who cared enough to make him one. Hopefully next time Fitz and I go into the field, he won’t be the only one with a specially crafted Simmons sub. Thank you, it was delicious.
If she blushed whenever she saw Ward that day, she simply explained it away as residual anger for the destruction of Fitz sandwich.