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“Psst.” Ward turns, looking around the room. He shakes his head, imagining things again.
He’s making his way past the dining room to the kitchen when there’s a surprisingly strong tug to his wrist. He falls to his knees, looking up to see Skye. She’s got that glint in her eyes– nothing good ever came with that!
“Get in.” Skye says.
Yeah. He might as well cancel all his plans for the week.
Skye gets on her stomach, crawling underneath the table, she motions for him to follow her. He rolls his eyes but does so anyways. Their heads peek out from underneath the tablecloth, just enough to afford them a view.
“What are we –”
“Shh.” Skye jabs him in the arm. “You’ll give us away.”
He does not get what the big deal was, so they can see into the kitchen – oh.
Ward grabs her arm, pulling them back into semi-darkness. “What did you do?”
“Firstly, ow.” She shoves him back, rubbing at the spot. “Secondly, I didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t do anything big or didn’t do anything at all.”
Ward prays to whatever deity was listening that it was nothing big (although it sounded more like a mental note); he did not need another mark on his record.
“Your complete lack of faith in me is so reassuring.” At his glare, she adds, “Nothing. I did nothing, okay? I did not mess with anything. Did not change anything – and we are missing it!”
“Missing what?”
“That!”
Coulson and May are in the kitchen. Ward cranes his neck trying to see what they’re doing but it’s nothing much; at least, nothing that should garner this much attempt at stealth. Neither of them have birthdays coming up, Christmas wasn’t for a few months; he rules out Skye trying to get Coulson to cave on whatever she wanted him to buy for her. They’re just having coffee and talking, he tells her so.
“Read between the lines, Ward.”
“There is nothing to be read!”
“Look.” Skye grabs his head, turning it to face them. “Look.”
“This is a terrible vantage point.”
“This is the only place where I can see them and they can’t see me! Just tell me what you see.”
“Coulson is obviously telling a joke since May’s trying not to smile.”
“And…”
“It’s a really lame joke? Probably that one about the guy who's afraid of flying.”
Skye closes her eyes, dropping her head onto her arms. “You are so hopeless.”
“What?”
“No. You’re just – I don’t even want to.”
Now he really wants to know. “Skye, tell me.” She gives no indication of having heard him, eyes glued on the kitchen.
Fuck it. He wants to know. He hates himself for what he is about to do.
Ward pinches the bridge of his nose, “Oh great Skye, tell me what I do not know. Enlighten me so that I may no longer be shrouded by ignorance.”
“When you put it that way. Okay, okay. Do not flick me!”
“It is so obvious that there is something there. Between them. AC and May. Mom and Dad.” Skye says as the lines become more pronounced on his forehead. “Feelings. They’re into each other. And also like they want to –”
Ward smacks her hand at the obscene gesture. “You’re wasting my time.” He says, pushing off the floor. He cannot believe he was dragged into this.
“No!” She grabs his arm. Ward faceplants into the carpet. “You are going to ruin the moment. Do not go about your cockblocking ways.”
“I am not a cockblock.”
“Oh please, you have the worst timing for a person. Learn to read the room before you enter!”
“I didn’t know I had to scan the surroundings in my own damn house.”
“Well you should. You are like that kid who runs into the parents’ bedroom when they are trying to get it on.”
He huffs, “How long are we going to be doing this? I’m hungry.”
“Shhh. Don’t be so selfish.”
Ward rolls over onto his back, staring at the underside of the table. There were cobwebs. They really needed to vacuum. And clean the carpet, it smelled damp, mouldy in the way old carpets did; Ward breathes through his mouth.
xxx
“Skye, this is getting stupid. I mean, it was stupid before but it’s been 15 minutes. And I have things to do that do not involve spending my day underneath the dining room table.”
She waves a hand, “Philinda is happening right now. This trumps everything.”
Do not ask. Do not ask. Ignore it. Don’t – “What the hell is Philinda?”
“AC and May’s ship.”
“They have a boat?”
“Of all the – seriously?!” Skye throws up her hands in despair. “Ward. Grant, Grant, Grant. Grant Ward.”
“I know my name.”
“Grant Douglas Ward.” She shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You have so much to learn, young padawan. And I guess I will have to be the one to educate you on life.”
He should have kept his mouth shut.
“A ship, noun, short for relationship, is a relationship between two or more persons. It is almost always a romantic relationship though you can ship friendship. I think it’s called friendshipping.”
“Who the hell comes up with these terms?”
“In the case of AC and May, it is most definitely romantic. Every ship needs a name. But you don’t want to come up with something stupid. For example, ours would be Skyeward.”
“Which would also be your name if you took mine.”
“Aw. Are you proposing?” Skye asks, pinching his cheek.
He pushes her hand away. “I said if.”
“And here I thought you loved me.” Skye grins before continuing, “It’s not the same thing. Skye Ward, space in between, would be my name if I took yours but Skyeward, no space in between is our ship name. Theirs, as mentioned before, is Philinda from –”
“Coulson’s name is Phil and May is Melinda, hence Philinda. You’re just merging names.”
“Good! You’re getting it!”
He mimes cheering, earning a sneer.
“Next up. Shipping. Verb. The act of wanting two or more person to be together. By shipping Philinda, I am rooting for them to be in a relationship –”
“They are.”
“No – what did you see?! Tell me!”
“Like they’re friends.”
Skye smacks his arm. “Did you not hear me say ‘romantic’? Clean your ears, Ward.”
“Stop that.”
“Ok. By shipping Philinda, I am rooting for them to be in a romantic,” she looks at him pointedly, “relationship. It also makes me a Philinda shipper. And you need to get on this boat.”
“So there’s a boat now?”
“It’s a metaphorical boat. Ward, keep up. You can’t be my first mate if you’re pulling this bs.”
He rubs at his face. He completely regrets the decision of waking up that morning as he listens to Skye explain the other different terms. He hears words like OTP, BrOTP, slash, crack ship, etc.
“You’re getting a dictionary for Christmas.”
xxx
May’s eyes divert to the dining room. The tablecloth floated about two inches from the ground, just as it should.
“Think we should stop them?” Coulson asks.
She looks to him, eyebrow raised slightly.
“Yeah. They’re probably in phase five by now. Might as well just brace ourselves for impact and get ready for the fallout. Good call.”
She rolls her eyes, raising her mug in salute.
“To parenting."