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Funny How Things Work Out

Summary:

Grant Ward is hilarious (but only to himself). Brett!Ward standup comedy shenanigans.

Notes:

The 18th fic in my Amazing Story Generator, Fic-A-Day challenge for June. If you want to, you can send me a prompt of three numbers between 1 and 60.

Numbers: 11, 35, 49
Prompt: Ignoring the advice of friends, an unsuccessful comedian is initiated into a secret cult.

Work Text:

Fitz groaned, eyes rolling and head lolling back to thunk against the wall behind him. "Do we have to go?" he asked, clearly wanting to do anything but.

"Oh, Fitz," Jemma tutted, stroking his forearm in either comfort or restraint.

"Yes," Coulson insisted. "It's good for team morale."

"Good?" Fitz asked, his head rising as sharply as his tone. "Do you remember last time we did this?" he asked incredulously. "If I'd had a Night-Night Gun on me, I'd have used it on him!"

Skye snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough. She was studiously avoiding looking at Coulson so as not to get dragged into things.

"Something to add, Skye?" Coulson asked dryly while Fitz muttered under his breath, "...used it on myself just to escape..."

She pressed her lips together, eyes wide and tear-filled with the effort of not laughing. She shook her head rapidly, breathing deeply through her nose as Simmons slapped Fitz gently in the chest to shut him up.

"Well, I think it's a wonderful idea," Jemma said a bit patronizingly. "It's very brave of him to try this, and as his team, we should be there for support." She smiled at Coulson, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Thank you, Simmons," Coulson said with a tone of immense satisfaction. "That's exactly my point."

Fitz rolled his eyes again and sighed, but after taking in Coulson's expression decided not to voice his opinion on relative bravery. Some battles were better left unfought.

May walked through the room, grabbing the keys that Coulson held up as she passed. "We're leaving in 5. Don't be late."

------------------

Ward looked out from behind the curtain and shielded his eyes against the house lights. Squinting, he scanned the room until his eyes landed on his team, sitting at a large table to the left of the bar. He allowed himself a tense smile before letting the curtain fall back in place. It was almost show time.

------------------

It was three minutes into his set, and the audience still hadn't warmed up yet. Tough crowd. Time to break out the A-material.

"Who wants to hear the one about a ghost?" he asked.

Coulson and Simmons cheered and the others clapped dutifully. The rest of the bar was... less enthusiastic.

"That's the spirit!" he said with false enthusiasm.

He was pretty sure he could hear the cutlery being put away in the kitchen.

"At what point," Fitz asked May quietly, "Do we tell him he's really bad at this?"

May sized Fitz up and then did the same to Ward. "It probably shouldn't be we," she said just as quietly.

"You know what's great about Thor's brother?" he tried again. After waiting a beat, he answered himself. "Some gods are really high maintenance, but that guy is really Lo-ki." He raised his eyebrows, waiting for the laugh. "Low-key, get it?" he asked with an expectant expression.

Skye actually covered her face with her hands. "Oh god," she moaned. "He is so bad at this!"

"How bad is he?" Fitz asked with a grin.

"He's so bad," Skye's face lit up as she started to answer.

"Shh!" Coulson hushed them. "I'm trying to listen!"

Fitz and Skye deflated in their seats. May waved the server over for more drinks.

"What do you say when Steve Rogers sneezes?" Ward asked the audience.

"God bless America!" shouted a drunk voice from the back of the bar.

It was the biggest laugh of the night.

------------------

After he was finished, Ward made his way over to the team's table to have a drink and watch the next open mic night act.

"So, what'd you guys think?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

Fitz excused himself to the bathroom and Skye got up to get another pitcher of beer.

Jemma's face was full of excitement so fake it was painful to look at. "That was just..." she hesitated, looking for the right word. "I don't know how you do it," she ended weakly.

"That Captain America joke was gold," Coulson offered. "Too bad that idiot at the back stole your punchline."

Ward nodded a bit ruefully. "I put that one in there for you, sir," he said, clinking glasses with his boss. "I really think the set is coming along," he said sagely.

May sighed in frustration and finally looked up from the table. "Stop," she said bluntly.

Ward's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What...?" he began.

May cut him off. "Stop doing this," she advised. "You're not funny and we all hate coming to watch you." Jemma's strangled gasp and Coulson's glare made her reconsider slightly. "Most of us hate coming to watch you," she amended.

"But..."

"Stick to Ops," she said. "Leave the comedy to people with a sense of humour."

Fitz and Skye both returned to the table in time to hear that last remark and made a simultaneous about face and left again.

Ward stared at his drink in shocked disappointment.

------------------

Later that night, on Skype, John Garrett wiped a tear from his eye as his chuckling abated. "...the spirit," he said again, shaking his head. "That's gold, son."

Ward nodded, feeling vindicated. "I know, right?" he asked.

"I'm telling you, Ward," Garrett pointed out. "You come over to Hydra, you'll have them rolling in the aisles."

"You think?" he asked, pondering the offer.

"You kidding me?" Garrett asked, face a mask of surprise. "You're hilarious!"

Grant grinned and nodded, feeling his confidence return. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I am."

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