084s have feelings too

May and Coulson walked back upstairs leaving Ward and FitzSimmons next to Skye's van.

"Did she just call the Director Furyliceous?" Fitz asked in an equally horrified and awed tone. Ward didn't blame him. He was just happy he'd get to hear what they actually said to each other.

Meanwhile Skye sat on her bed talking to Fury in a mixture of Ancient Greek and Latin. She had learnt both languages, courtesy of Fury and they used it as their secret language while she grew up. She spoke both languages fleuntly, without having to give a second thought, so combining the two was the next logical step to make sure no one could understand them.

<How ya doing Pirate man?> Skye asked.

<Much better now that I know you're alive>Fury replied, placing extra emphasis on the alive part.

<Hey, I would have called, but I was kinda on the run. Did you know butterflies taste with their feet?>

Even though no one ever told her what her family did, they had created multiple codes in case of any emergency service. Skye just figured that every family did it and never questioned it. The one Skye just said was made in case unwanted ears were listening in.

She highly doubted that Ward would be able to translate both languages, especially mixed up as they were, but caution never hurt.

<Is that so...what do they taste?>Fury asked, it was another code. She'd have to spell out Ward's name with the first letter of several other words.

<Wheat, Apples, Rice, Deer> She told him.<Personally I can't stand that combination> Skye told Fury, still talking about Ward.

Fury laughed before asking <Are there any butterflies in your van?>  referencing the bug. he asked.

Skye went to her computer, opening the application that allowed her to find exactly where the bug was.

<It's right in front of me> she told him.

Skye picked up the bug that was hidden in one of the rips in the chair fabric. Before she crushed it, she hacked into Ward's laptop, deleting any previously saved versions of the conversation. If the bug were to remain intact, he could listen to it for ever if he wanted. By crushing it and deleting the file, he could never hear it again. Putting the bug on the ground, she crushed it with her boot.

<Okay, we can talk freely now> Skye told him, but she was still using their own language rather than English, in case anyone was listening through the door or something ridiculous like that.

After Ward's brief chat with FitzSimmons, he went back to his bunk to listen to what she and Fury were discussing.

Opening his laptop, he connected to the bug to hear what they were saying.

All he heard was some incoherent foreign language that he'd never heard before and doesn't have a hope of translating himself.

The girl was good. There was no way to deny it. Despite himself he started to feel the briefest stirring in his stomach, one that he hadn't felt in years. This was not good. He couldn't get attached to this girl. She was too valuble as an asset.

Just as he prepared to send the sound file to Hydra HQ, he found the file missing, as if it never existed. Cursing himself for not saving the file, he hoped he could save at least some of what they were currently saying, but he found that that too, had been cut off.

He was just glad he hadn't told Garrett about the phone call before. He'd be dead otherwise.

So. He had a nineteen year old girl who had hacked S.H.I.E.L.D. multiple times, was raised by The Cavalry and Agent Coulson, who was on first name basis with the Avengers. She called the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. "Furylicous" and had some insane twisted language with him. Oh, and she was able to pin May to the table in five seconds flat. Ward was doomed. This girl was beyond perfect to him. Maybe it would work out for the best? After he convinces her to join Hydra, she might see him as her saviour. Garrett would be happy if he had control over her. It really could work.

While all this was happening, May and Coulson had made their way up to his office.

They sat in silence, having felt the sting from seeing Skye happy. It was because of them that it was a rare occurance now.

"Their probably using that language thing they made" Coulson said, attempting to break the silence and tension, a smile on his face. Hearing that language always brought pleasant memories to him

May and Coulson had just returned from a mission, leaving Fury with Skye.

Whenever Fury took care of Skye, it would be a mix of staying at the house or at a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.

Although technically, Skye went to school, she wasn't a regular attender.

Even though May and Coulson didn't want Skye to be dragged into the spy life style, it constantly happened that she was. She was at the Triskellion at least once a month for anytime from a day to a week.

She was seen in a highly restricted hallways skipping along and singing a tune.

Deputy Director was her sparring coach when May wasn't around or she was at a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. She was a fast learner and it became something of a ritual for a few years. If you were a junior agent, fresh out of the Academy, you had to go against the little girl who was always around. No one really knew who she was. Senior agents knew better than to ask and junior agents were too terrified to.

So, if you were a junior agent and the scary little girl happened to be there, you had to challenge her to spar.

Skye won 8 out of 10 times.

That was how Skye spent her days at S.H.I.E.L.D. In the mornings she'd have lessons with Fury, or any other high ranking agents, were she was taught many different things, such as how to dismantle a bomb, how to remove bullets. Basic first aid, which was actually quiet advanced but she didn't know that. She thought every six year old knew how to save someone from a bullet wound.

She was taught Russian, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Cantanese, Japenese and German. She only learnt Ancient Greek and Latin with Fury.

In the afternoon, she would train, whether it be fighting, shooting or knife throwing.

In the evenings, she was free to do whatever she wished, whether it be to roam the halls, or much to everyones amusement, interrogate suspects.

Even though no one really knew who Skye was, she was famous.

One afternoon, just after her training was done, Uncle Nick called her aside and asked if she'd go in and ask the man where he put the proffesor. So Skye skipped into the room.

She had to jump a few times to reach the chair and when she finally was sitting properly, her head was touching the table, forcing her to sit on the actual table itself. She just looked at him for a long time.

This guy didn't look like a bad person. "This doesn't make sense" she huffed out in annoyance. "You don't look like a bad guy, so why are you here?"

The perp looked at her, pity in his eyes.

"Because sweatheart" he told her, his eyes gentle "sometimes you gotta do something bad because more bad stuff will happen if you dont."

"Like what?" Skye asked, her interest peeked now.

"Well you see" he told her "I've got a little girl too, just your age, some bad men took her, and if I don't do what they say, they'll do bad things to my little girl"

At that moment, Fury came in and told Skye it was time to go. She slid over to the other side of the table to give the perp a hug. She thought he looked sad and needed a hug and he hugged her right back. Fury was impressed. That was the first time anyone had gotten the guy to talk, let alone reveal important info.

May and Coulson arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. to pick up Skye. They went to Fury's office, where she spent most of her time, only to stop dead in their tracks once they opened the door.

Skye was sitting on the desk, her cheap kiddie make up kit scattered around her. Fury sat in front of her with a messy, blonde wig on his head, rosy blush on his cheaks, blue eyeshadow on both his eyelid and his eye patch and a very messy lipstick job.

Skye jumped up when she saw her parents and ran to hug them. Fury continued to scowl. "Not a word, either of you" is all he said.

Thinking back to those memories were bittersweet for Coulson and May. Their daughter would not run into their arms again for a long time, if ever.