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”He was an accident,” Skye tells the him, while bouncing her baby on her knee. ”I’m not even sure who his dad is.” It’s the kind of bluntness she affords all her interview candidates. Anyone looking for a perfect Upper East Side household to work for will be sorely disappointed. ”But he’s my accident, you know? I love him to bits. It’s just that with all this government work at the contract I have with Stark Industries-“
"I completely understand," the candidate tells her, smiling with fondness at the little baby on Skye’s lap. Phillip coos. Skye hasn’t seen him react this positively to anyone else.
"What did you say your name was, again?" Skye says.
"Grant Ward," he tells her.
”And you’re twenty-five,” she says.
"I am," he says.
"You’ve got four years on me," she tells him. Phil is practically reaching for Grant, like he’s trying to get out of Skye’s lap and crawl over to the new nanny.
Well. Potential new nanny. Skye hasn’t hired him yet.
"And you’ve got quite the career for a twenty-one year old," he says. Fondly. Not even a hint of sarcasm. He looks down at Phillip and his eyes crinkle. They look kind of golden when he does that.
"It doesn’t intimidate you?" Skye asks. "The fact that you’ll be working for one of the youngest millionaires in the world?"
He looks back up at her and shrugs. ”First of all, no. I think your career is extremely impressive. I actually, um,” he laughs at himself. ”I bought the Forbes issue with you on the cover.”
"That was a good picture of me," Skye says. "What else?"
Grant seems like the bashful sort. It’s disgusting. It’s endearing. ”Well, you’re paying a ridiculous amount of money,” Grant says. ”And I love babies.”
Phillip hiccups with joy. Grant is. Well. He’s certainly something different. ”Do you want to hold him?” Skye asks. She hasn’t let anyone else even try.
"Please," Grant says, and happily takes the baby from her. "Hi, Phillip!" Grant says. "Hey there, little guy!"
Skye wasn’t expecting her heart to warm up this fast. But Phillip likes Grant, so she supposes she has no other choice.
"When can you start?" she asks.
"Now’s fine," he says, rocking Phillip in his arms.
"I’m going to have to get you a guest room," Skye says. "I travel a lot."
"That’s fine," Grant says. "I rarely have plans." He is so engrossed with her baby. Skye’s not even sure she’s that good with Phillip, and she’s his actual mom.
"You really like him, don’t you?" Skye says. She’s not sure which one of them she’s talking to.
"He’s perfect," Grant says. "Just like his mom." He grins at her, and wow, she’s sold. She’s so sold. She’s a goner, probably.
"He really likes you," she says.
Phillip tries to pull on Grant’s shirt, and Grant just laughs. I like you, too, Skye thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud.
--
Grant hasn’t asked Skye to take Phillip back once. He’s been bouncing that baby on his lap for an hour, and she hasn’t seen so much as a pleading glance.
“So,” Skye says, pushing away her tomato soup. “You two get along well.”
He looks up from his own soup. He’s somehow mastered the art of eating and holding a baby at the same time, which Skye finds impressive and also deeply suspicious. Maybe she’s being jealous, though, since she can’t eat and hold Phillip at all. Unless she wants a baby covered in yogurt, and she doesn’t.
“He’s a great little guy,” Grant says. He puts the spoon down, wipes his hands. He touches his own cheek, and it takes Skye a moment to realize that he’s testing the temperature of his hand before putting it on Phillip’s little nose. “You’re just the best little guy!” he says.
She gets a little more endeared every time Grant does something cute with her baby.
“He’s a handful,” Skye says. “He’s being good now but, you know. He’s not always like this.”
“Well that would be weird,” Grant says. “Babies are supposed to cry and scream. It’s how they communicate.”
“And you speak baby?” Skye asks.
Grant looks at her with exactly the face she deserves. “I just listen to them, is all.”
She has this gnawing feeling in her chest like her new nanny is better with Phillip than she is. And she doesn’t want to be bitter about it, but who does this guy think he is? He just got here, and he doesn’t even want to stop holding her baby. Her baby. Not his.
“Here,” Skye says, reaching her arms out for Phillip. “You shouldn’t have to eat and hold a baby at the same time.” Even though you’re super good at it, you weirdo.
“Oh,” Ward says, like he’s just noticed that he should be having difficulties. “You sure?”
Skye smiles as politely as she can. “I’m positive,” she says.
Grant gently cradles Phillip as he moves to the other couch. The second he sits down next to Skye, Phillip starts to curl up against his chest. The little traitor. “What’s the matter?” Grant asks. “Don’t you want to go to mommy?”
Phillip tries to grab at Grant’s shirt. Well fine, Phillip. It’s not like you’re turning your back on the woman that’s been breastfeeding you for four months.
“I’m sure he’s just sleepy,” Grant offers. “Come on, little guy,” he says. Grant takes Phillip’s tiny hands off his shirt. “There we go,” he says, softly, as he hands Phillip back to Skye. “What a good little baby you are,” Grant coos.
Which is exactly when Phillip starts wailing. You know, now that Skye’s holding him. The little asshole. “Phil,” she says. “My little prince. My little avenger.” She tries rocking him, to no avail. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
She looks up to Grant, who’s just balking at her. “Is he okay?” Grant asks.
“I’m not a shitty mother,” Skye says. “If that’s what you’re implying.” She holds Phillip to her chest, pats his back.
Grant’s eyes widen. “I would never-”
“He’s never done this before,” Skye interrupts. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
Grant reaches for Phillip, and Skye actually moves back. Just a little. This is her baby, after all. “Maybe he was just comfortable?” Grant suggests. “Maybe he’s hungry?”
“Maybe he’s just playing favorites,” Skye mumbles. “You hungry, Phil?” She can’t use her frustrated voice on her baby, but God, she wants to. “Are you hungry?”
“Does he still breastfeed?” Grant asks. “Or is there something I can go make for him?”
Skye takes a good look at the new nanny, half-reaching for Phillip, half-staring at Skye like he’d jump off the roof if she asked him to. She sighs. “He still breastfeeds,” Skye says. She reaches for the buttons of her blouse. “Hand me that blanket behind you?” It’s a soft flannel thing, kind of out of place in her apartment. But it’s familiar. And she doesn’t want Grant to think she’s just going to whip her boob out in front of him. “I know you’re the new nanny so you don’t have to watch but this is my apartment so-”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Grant says. “He needs to eat, and that’s what breasts are for.” She raises her eyebrows, and his eyes find his lap. “I mean-that’s their medical use. I’m not saying I don’t-your boobs are-I’m, uh,”
She laughs. Despite herself. Despite the whining baby in her arms. “It’s fine,” Skye says. She puts the blanket over her shoulder and her baby. Grant’s still staring at her lap. “You know I’m not embarrassed by this.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Grant says.
“You don’t have to be, either,” Skye says.
He slowly raises his head. But only to meet her eyes. “Okay.”
Phillip has decided that nourishment is, apparently, what he wants. His cries quiet down.
Skye looks at her baby, brushes back the curls of his hair with her spare hand. “You called it,” Skye says. “He was hungry.”
“It was a lucky guess,” he says. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I never thought that you were a bad mom.”
“It’s nothing,” Skye says. “I mean, it’s not nothing, but it’s not your fault. It’s the baby. He just likes you a lot, I guess.”
“Not more than you,” Grant says. Skye doesn’t reply. But she might frown. Just a little. “Skye. He barely knows me.”
Phillip is starting to fall asleep. “Yeah, but he already loves you,” Skye says. “You must just have something about you. Something he likes.”
“I doubt that,” Grant says.
Skye pulls Phillip away. “Can you burp him?” she asks. “I’d like to- You know.”
He takes the baby without question. Pats Phillip on the back and coos while Skye fixes herself. “He’s sleepy,” Grant tells her. “Where’s the nursery?”
Skye smooths her shirt. “Come on,” she says. “I’ll show you how to put him to sleep.”
At that exact moment, Phillip spits up on Grant. And he doesn’t even flinch.
“Hey,” Grant whispers. “You okay? You feeling better?”
Phillip tries to grab his nose as a reply. Unbelievable.
Skye leads Grant through the living room, down the hall. All while Grant keeps burping her baby. He hasn’t even asked if he can clean the baby puke off his shirt. Like it doesn’t even occur to him.
She notes, maybe a little too smugly, that he’s kind of in awe of her apartment.
“How much is the rent for this place?” Grant asks.
Skye shrugs. “I bought it when I got pregnant. Before that it had just been one bedrooms on the lower east side, but then-” she nods at Phillip. “I had the money for a nice place, but didn’t have a reason to settle, you know?”
“And then you had one,” Grant says.
Skye smiles, just a little. “Yeah,” she says. “Then I had one.”
“It’s really, really nice,” Grant says. “You deserve it.”
Please stop being so encouraging. It makes it harder to resent you. “I’ve got a guest room, a nursery, and my bedroom,” Skye says. “The guest room has it’s own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about walking in on me in the shower.”
He doesn’t seem to find that particularly funny. Skye snickers anyway. “The guest room?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Skye says. “You’re going to need to stay here when I’m away on business.”
“Oh, I know,” Grant says. “I just figured I’d sleep on the couch. Or on the floor of Phillip’s room.”
She pauses in her stride. “Who the hell would make someone sleep on the floor of a nursery?” Skye asks. “That sounds cruel.”
“But what if he needs me?” Grant asks.
“Baby monitor,” Skye says. “I’ll get you a fancy one with solar batteries, so you don’t even have to worry about it dying.”
“Still,” Grant says. “I hardly need a whole guest room.”
“Well,” Skye says. “You’re getting a guest room. End of discussion.”
Grant seems a little taken aback. But come on. He’s being silly. “Are you sure the monitor will work?” he asks.
Skye sighs. “If Phillip is sick, then by all means, sleep on the floor,” she says. “But otherwise, seriously. You deserve a bed.”
He doesn’t seem to agree, but he nods anyway. “Okay. That makes sense, yeah.”
She leads on. “Quick warning,” she says, if only because she doesn’t want to talk about this weird earnesty thing Grant has going on. “The nursery is kind of ridiculous.”
“It is?” he asks.
“Phillip’s grandpa decorated,” Skye says. “Since I didn’t know the first thing about nurseries, I figured he could help.” She arrives at the door where PHILLIP is written in red, white, and blue letters. “I was wrong. I was horribly, horribly wrong.”
Grant smiles as Skye opens the door. “I’m sure it’s not-” Skye flicks on the lights. “Oh.”
Skye can’t even tell him ‘I told you so.’ Because there are no words for this nursery. “Welcome, Grant Ward,” Skye says. “To the most elaborate Captain America-themed nursery in history.”
He’s staring. Just holding the baby and staring. “Is that-”
“A life-size, full-detail wall decal of Captain America?” Skye says. “You bet.”
“Wow,” Grant says.
“Yep,” Skye replies, as resentfully as she can possibly manage.
“And Phillip’s…grandpa did this?”
Skye stares wistfully at the Captain America mobile, spinning over the crib. “Not by blood,” Skye says. “Phil Coulson is the closest thing I have to a dad, though.”
That gets Grant’s attention. “Wait. You know Coulson?”
Skye looks back at him. “Um, yes?” she asks. “Do you?”
“I mean not well,” Grant says. “But he’s a good friend of my boss. My old boss.”
“Who’s your old boss?” Skye asks.
“John Garrett,” Ward says. “He works for, um-”
“Grant,” Skye says. “I know what SHIELD is. I hacked it when I was like, 14. Which is how I met Phil Coulson. How’d you meet Garrett?”
“Oh,” Grant says. “I, um. Met him after my tour.”
“Your tour?” Skye says. She pauses. “Hold on. Were you in the military?”
“Yes?” Grant says. “Is that not okay?”
“No!” Skye replies. “It’s fine. It’s great. You’re great.” It just puts a few things in perspective, is all. “So you ditched SHIELD for a nannying gig?”
“I mean, technically yes,” Grant says. “But it was just desk work.”
“Not field stuff?” Skye asks. “I mean, you were military.”
“John didn’t let me go into field work,” Grant says. “I think it was a good call but it was kind of boring.”
“Still,” Skye says. “Not many people would ditch a secret government job to watch a baby.”
“I like babies,” Grant says. “A lot better than I like fighting or government secrets.”
“I see,” Skye says.
“Also,” Grant continues. “You’re paying like, three times what SHIELD pays.”
Skye laughs at that. “Well I’m nothing if not competitive,” she says. She smiles, and Grant smiles back, and it’s tender in a way that she doesn’t want to think about.
Which is why she’s the first one to look away. “We should put Phillip to bed,” Skye says.
“Right,” Grant says. And he sounds kind of weird. Like he’s just woken up. “Bed. I think,” he strokes Phillip’s back. “He’s already pretty much asleep.”
“Good,” Skye says. “It won’t last but…good.”
Grant rests Phillip down in his crib. Phillip whines a little, probably from the lack of Grant, but settles quickly. Skye strokes his stomach, just until she’s sure he’s asleep. And Grant just stands by her side, like he’s waiting for her to need him.
“Do you want to call it a day?” Skye asks. “You kind of just got thrown into work.”
“I’d have to check a train schedule,” Grant says. “But if you want me to leave, I’ll go.”
“Wait,” Skye says, quietly taking Grant out of the nursery. “Train schedule?”
“I’m staying with a friend in Northern Jersey,” Grant says. “Just until I can get a cheap apartment closer. I just didn’t want to put money down if I didn’t get the job and-”
“I can find you an apartment,” Skye says. “I could find you one tonight, if you wanted.”
“Skye,” he says. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”
“You’re my nanny,” Skye says. She playfully bats at his arm. “You take care of the baby, I take care of you.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Grant says.
She clicks her tongue. “Sure it is,” Skye says. “You can stay in the guest room. Get a feel for overnights. And when you wake up, you’ll have a new apartment.”
“Skye,” he says.
“Grant,” she replies. “I work for Tony Stark. I could get you an apartment in like, forty minutes, if you wanted. It’s ridiculous, the kind of things I can do.”
“You’re really that rich?” Grant asks. Then realizes how blunt he’s being, and slaps a hand over his mouth.
Skye giggles, and pulls his hand away. “Yes,” Skye says. “I am. But I didn’t used to be. So let me lend you a hand, okay? I know what it’s like.”
“I, um-” he looks down at his clothes. “I don’t want to get spit up on your sheets.”
Wow. Just. Wow. “I’ve got a washing machine, you know,” she says. “I’ve got some laundry to do anyway so just give me your shirt and I’ll handle it.”
He takes off his shirt. Just like that. And she regrets not thinking this through. She could see the outlines of his muscles through the shirt, but hadn’t really thought about what they’d look like without a shirt to cover them. And. “I’ll do the laundry,” he says. “Just tell me what kind of detergent to use.”
“You’re not my housekeeper,” Skye says.
He smiles, which he should not be allowed to do when his shirt’s off. “For what you’re paying me, I’ll literally be whatever you want.”
Skye hates where her mind goes with that one. “I’m going to show you how to use the laundry machine,” Skye says. “But only so that you can use it on overnights for yourself. I don’t want you thinking you also have to clean the place.”
He looks like he’s about to protest, but a wail cuts him off.
“Well,” Skye says. “That was quick.” Grant looks over her shoulder, to Phillip’s room, and she can tell he’s just waiting for the go-ahead. She grabs his shirt from him. “You deal with the baby, I’ll do the laundry,” Skye says.
“I can do the laundry after Phillip falls asleep again,” Grant says.
Skye shakes her head. “Not happening,” she tells him. She makes the mistake of patting his chest. He’s firm. Unsettlingly firm. “Also, what do you want for dinner?”
“Dinner?” he asks. Phillip screeches, and Grant flinches in response.
“Go,” Skye says. “We’ll order Chinese.”
“I-” he starts, before shaking his head. “Thank you,” he says. “For all of this.”
“You’re thanking me for a screaming baby?” Skye asks.
“Yeah,” Grant says, moving past Skye. “I am.”
“You’re welcome,” Skye says. Mostly to herself. “I think.”
She waits in the hall for a moment, until the crying subsides. She registers that she’s holding Grant’s shirt with an unnecessary tightness, but choses not to dwell on it.
“Skye?” Grant calls, from the nursery. “I think he wants his mom.”
Phillip isn’t even crying anymore, and Skye thinks that Grant might be bluffing.
She goes back to the nursery anyway.