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“So you love me.”
“Uh huh.” He looks over his board at her, sat back against her pillows with a positively beaming smile, slightly tousled hair pulled into a ponytail and her face sans makeup.
(“No one will get me a mirror.”
“You look fine, better, compared to when you were – dying.”
“Swinging and still a-missing.”)
“G7.”
Skye was restless, constantly assuring whoever was visiting that she was fine and begging to be relieved of bedrest – no dice, Jemma took her job as the resident medical expert on the team very seriously.
“Hit.” He reluctantly admits, putting the peg in place.
Ward had resorted to digging from the Bus’ collection of board games: Clue, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it, they’ve probably played it at least three times since Skye was brought in. When it was just them, he would bring out Jenga and Battleship, both of which had a tendency to bring their competitive sides to the surface.
Skye may have conquered Battleship but he definitely had the upper hand in Jenga. Uno was neutral grounds, but only after both had shuffled the cards.
“You looooooove me.”
“Yup.”
Skye continues to repeat the sentence, emphasizing a different word each time. He laughs but agrees and he’s running out of ways to do so. “I think we’ve both made it very clear. B10.”
“Nope. And we have. But in English.”
Ward leans back in his chair. He knows what she’s suggesting, it’s a challenge. “Je t’aime.”
Game on.
“我爱你.” Skye responds.
And apparently, so is she.
“Я люблю тебя.”
“我愛你.”
“Ti amo.”
“01001001 00100000 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01011001 01101111.”
“Really, just off the top of your head?”
Skye shrugs.
“Te amo.”
“I-L-Y.”
His middle and ring finger curls towards his palm, the thumb, forefinger and pinkie extended.
“qamuSHa’.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“The sentiment is there.”
“Gin melin.” Ward grins. The ability to surprise/shock Skye was ranked high on his list of favourite pasttimes. “I too have fictional languages up my sleeve.”
“Iyay ovelay youyay!”
“I said it first!”
“This is nauseating.” Fitz says, pulling a face.
“Where’s Jem?”
“Negotiating the terms of your release into our custody.”
“Oh, strict, pokey, Dr. Simmons.” Skye groans, remembering the last time.
“Best of luck.” Fitz says, handing over a bag. “You should get changed.”
“Did we get a call?” Ward asks, checking his phone for any missed messages.
Seeing as they were the only agents left, it was pretty much all hands on deck all the time.
“No. Just thought it was time to break this one out of prison.”
“Finally.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Ward takes the board in exchange for her clothes, ushering her towards the bathroom. “We’re pausing.”
“We both know I’m going to win.” She says, slightly muffled by the door.
“That’s what you think. But it’s my time. I’m ending the reign of Skye.”
Fitz snorts. “You’re supposed to be on my side.” Ward says.
“Betting on you in this case would be the equivalent of placing money on a dead horse.” Fitz slaps his back. “Your chances of winning are,” he mulls over it, “probably less than 10%.”
“It is not that low – that’s too low. What are you basing this on?”
“The many shipwrecks at the bottom of Ward Ocean.”
Skye laughs, pinching his cheek, “We can’t be good at everything.”
Ward towers over her, “Sweetheart, you are going down. Mark my words.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A promise.”
“Your optimism is so cute.” Skye responds, pecking his lips. “Oh, and babe, G4.”
His eyes narrow, turning towards Fitz for confirmation. The Scot opens the board slowly (deliberately) and gives him a single nod, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.
“Say it, Ward. Say it.”
“You sank my battleship.” He says through gritted teeth, packing the equipment away into the box.
“Yes!”
Even after all her wins, Skye still got a kick out of performing her victory dance – with each one, the dance had evolved to become dorkier and much more embarrassing to watch.
“I hate you.”
“You love me.” Skye sing-songs.
“You love me back.”
“So what?”
“Best two out of three.”
“Best? I just won.”
“Best two out of three.”
“Some things never change.” Fitz mutters to himself, trailing behind them.