Chapter 1
"I know what you're doing..." She hears Skye sing-song at her doorway whilst she's trying her hardest to make sure everything on her list is neatly packed into her go-bag.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." She mutters just loud enough for one of her best friends to hear and not looking up as she checks off multi-vitamins on her list.
"Oh, so you're not the one going undercover with Ward?"
She still doesn't look at her clearly amused company while completing her task because of course, Skye is very much right.
About the fact that she is going on an undercover mission on foreign soil with one Grant Ward. One of SHIELD's foremost specialists before it's fall and now Coulson's number one go-to with their most dangerous missions - next to Trip and Bobbi and May and Hunter, mostly - after he had unceremoniously joined their team months before.
They had met (and for some, reunited with) him when they had raided a HYDRA cell with his unexpected assistance. Trip and Bobbi agreeing to let him onto the base when Coulson had brought it about.
Word is that he, along with Trip, had been one of John Garrett's top students and that when Garrett's true allegiance had come put in the open in those awful final days when everything had fallen apart, he had (to put it simply) not taken it well and afterward, had gone off the reservation and then completely off the grid, causing most of who knew him to think him dead.
To witness Bobbi and Trip near tears at his reappearance had been quite a sight.
Even May, who's very nature dictated caution before trust in all things, welcomed him as a fellow comrade.
And Skye - considering her ordeal during the uprising - easily warmed to him through a surprisingly short period of time and more so when he'd become an unexpectedly entertaining sparing partner and an ear for her sardonic one-liners.
And to say she had been surprised to see the odd friendship develop between he and Fitz would be a definite understatement. He, Hunter, and Mack being hilariously bro-y with Ward in their off-hours.
His interactions with her? Well...
It's... hard to explain.
To sum it up, Grant Ward is one of the most sarcastic, cocky (verging on arrogant), and self-confident men she's ever met. He's blunt and dry and although, not as openly flirtatious as Trip, a few simple words from him has been known to cause just as many - if not more - unsuspecting women on the base to blush scarlet in his presence.
He's also had the reputation to have saved the lives of many of his fellow agents and gained Coulson's trust almost instantaneously when invited onto the base. A brilliant strategic mind tacked on with a decade's worth of specialist work.
He's also, indeed, funny, friendly, animated, and has a sharp, wicked sense of humor that seems very unfair when attached to a man with that body and that face and that horrendously distracting smile of his.
"So, what of it?" She asks exasperated and finally looks up at the smug smile on her best friend's face.
"Soo..." The younger woman echoes, walking further into the room, her expression spelling trouble. "...You're going on a mission with Ward."
"And?" She hedges, back to her task, even though at this point she's stalling because being who she is, Jemma had already had mostly everything she needs before even walking back into her quarters after she and Gran - Ward - were given their assignment in Coulson's office earlier.
"Are you kidding me?" She hears Skye ask dryly. "Grant Ward. About... all of six foot two." She adds suggestively and Jemma fights not to roll her eyes even as her cheeks burns because yes, he most definitely is. "Broad shoulders. Wears the hell out of a tac vest. Takes off his shirt every time without you asking. Stares at you when in the same room together like he wants to-"
"He does not!" She protests in an embarrassing high voice at the very thought and no, there's no way a man like him would look do that. Ever.
He's just... observant, is all.
"-Don't interrupt me and yes, he does. Anyway, that is the same man you are going on a two person mission with - playing a married couple together! - in one of the most romantic places in Europe. Alone. For god knows how many weeks and you're not seeing the big deal here?!"
Not this again. Almost ever since he had arrived on base, Skye has had this ridiculous theory about Ward's attraction to her. About the way he apparently gazes at her from across the room. Or brightens up when she enters his area of vision. Or makes extra sure that she doesn't skip meals when caught up in her science.
OK. Well, she has noticed that last one. It's not as though she starves exactly and everybody on the base has missed eating once in a while for the sake of work. It happens. And it's not like he wouldn't do the same for Fitz.
Though, alright, fine, she has noted that it's her who has food saved (often cooked and left specifically for her) if she misses dinner or has her favorite sandwich appear during lunch when she's too busy to drag herself out of the lab.
Or her preferred snack at odd hours of the night during her biochem binges.
And yes, so maybe, he's a little more - she doesn't wanna say softer but, there is no other manner in which to describe it - with her. He's... kinder. He seems to go out of his way to make her laugh or do something nice for her. Things she alone would appreciate.
Like, last week, when he'd brought her back that specimen from the suspicious dig site in Turkey, knowing from past excursions that she would be overjoyed at the possible new discovery.
Could it be? Could he actually-
"No." She finds herself saying out loud, shaking her head and going to looking through her belongings to double check, at least. "I am not. Because there is nothing to see. He's just being-"
-"Smitten? Made stupid by love bug?"-
-"Polite." She corrects, choosing to ignore the alarmingly casual use of the word love despite the skipping of her traitorous heart. "Kind. Friendly. He's like that with everybody." She adds with warning and a pointed look at her friend and then digging around her bag to make sure she has the one thin- her toiletry bag; she's missing her toiletry bag! - before looking around the room for it.
"Okay, Dr. Oblivious, why don't you take the opportunity on this mission to-"
"What? Do you want me to seduce him?"
Skye being who she is, just shrugs as though what she'd just half-joked about is absolutely no big deal. "I was actually gonna suggest that you two hash it out on getting things started but, yeah, okay, that works, too."
She'd been kidding but, of course, Skye would take something like that seriously. "You're ridiculous. I am not and will never seduce him."
"I could give you a few pointers I learned from Bobbi."
"Ugh!" She hears her hands up in frustration at this juncture. "No! Get out of here already. I have to bloody finish and you're not helping!"
"God, fine." The darker-haired woman flings up her own palms and turns around the way she came, possibly, muttering. "Jesus, so genius yet so dumb. Stubborn."
"What was that?"
"Nothing! Have fun on your mission!" Skye utters in a falsely cheerful tone of voice, never turning around to face her as she leaves her quarters.
Doesn't matter. She'll get her later but, right this second she needs to find her toiletry bag if it's the last thing she- Where is it? She could have sworn it was here somewhere.
She starts checking around her carry-on again. Her bed. Her nightstand.
She can't find it!
She's just about to give up and leave the room to go find it elsewhere when she hears a sound near the doorway and spins around about to give her friend the worst tongue-lashing.
"Skye! I swear I told you I will not be seduc-"
Grant Ward smiles at her - damn him, he has a lovely smile - from her open doorway, hip cocked against the frame. Wearing dark blue jeans and shirt with sturdy boots and one of his oft-worn leather jackets.
And she hates him. It's like the universe is trying to disprove her of the notion of not being intensely attracted to him.
"Who aren't you seducing?"
"Uh..." The very not new feeling of her brain short-circuiting on her when faced with that smile and his warm eyes settles over her for a short minute before she manages to recover. "Nothing. Nobody, I mean. It's just a silly joke between Skye and I. It's nothing... you know how she is." She allows herself to smile back at him and even if he looks somewhat unconvinced by her words, his own widens significantly and she maintains that he simply likes it when people returns his smiles.
And that's it.
"Ready to go?" He asks, taking her out of her thoughts immediately.
"Kind of." She gestures around her living quarters, her previous chore immediately taking root once again. "I can't seem to find my toiletry bag anywhere."
He walks further into her room, asking. "What's it look like?"
"It's blue. This long." She spreads her fingers apart. "A bit bulky."
He helps her look for a small while and she tries not to find his presence in the same space that she changes and sleeps in too distracting, in spite of her mind going to very inappropriate places as he's only being his normal amicable self and helping her.
He's being sweet and she's being the pervert.
He, of course, finds it in the corner of her dresser. The one area she hadn't thought to look.
"Oh, thank you." She sighs after he tosses it at her. "You have no idea how much frustration you just saved me."
"It's nothing." He walks around her bed, joining her at the foot where her carry-on lays and she zips it open again to carefully place her once lost bag inside of it. "And damn, that is bulky."
"It's the small things that matter, Agent Ward." She says without looking and closing her luggage. And it's true. That bag contains her cosmetics. Her meds. Little pieces of herself that would keep her from going crazy. And of course, you never know when-
He's staring at her now.
Fundamentally, she'd known he had been next to her and that he's right there, at the foot of her bed with her as she packs up but, then she's turning around and he's there. Closer than she had thought.
He steps a bit into her space and once more, it's not as though she often forgets how tall he is - how well-built he is - but, now it's in her face. The size of him is overwhelming being soo close and she unconsciously holds her breath without realizing it initially.
Then she nearly wants to kick herself. He isn't the Hulk, for god's sake, she shouldn't feel so dwarfed by him when she's so sure that it hadn't been his intent.
"Grant." He finally says, peering into her face with warm, intense eyes. His head tilted in a way she tries not to find endearing.
"What?" She asks more breathlessly than she'd wanted because this near him, she can see the gold flecks in his dark gaze. Count his lashes, almost. The growing stubble accentuating his cheekbones. The upward curling of his mouth.
And, for the first time, up close she can smell him. A mix of cedarwood, spices, and something distinctly masculine all his own that wraps itself around her and makes her nose tingle.
He basically smells the way he looks. Like the cleanest mountain in the world.
"I keep asking you to call me Grant." He elaborates, his smile different from the one he'd given her when he had caught her unawares earlier. Teasing. Playfully intimate. His voice nearly a caress. "I thought we talked about this."
That he does. All of the time. And yet, in the name of professionalism and ignoring the pull towards him, she keeps forgetting and he always takes it in stride.
This is the first time, however, that he's been this serious. Has looked at her like this.
"Oh." She manages, head reeling and her breath short. "I-I forgot, is all."
"Again?" He teases gently and apparently noting something in that instant, he steps back a bit, his expression shifting. "Simmons, I'm about to be your husband for the unforeseeable future. You might as well get used to calling me by my first name, at least."
When he gives her that small foot of space, her head clears and the first thing she notes is his use of her name. Simmons. As he's mostly called her. Simmons. Doc. Casual usage of her title and it's accompanying last name.
The way he does with everyone else.
He had used her first name once. Called her Jemma almost in afterthought during a shared lunch once upon a time and when she had reacted in - what he'd perceived to be - discomfort, he had back peddled and apologized and never did it again.
Of course, she's never gonna tell him that his calling her Jemma had sounded way too good coming out of his mouth. The way it rolled off his tongue too appealing for her to handle.
"Well then..." She says, making a decision. "If I have to call you Grant. I think it only fair that you call me Jemma."
She doesn't bother pretending the blinding smile he sends in her direction isn't gratifying in it's own right. "Alright." He utters before adding. "Jemma." His smile turns into a smirk and the transformation causes her chest to flutter. "Well, shall we?" He asks, gesturing out into the hallway.
"We shall." She says, grabbing her belongings, taking a deep breath, and following the path of his outstretched arm and out into the hall, hearing the click of her door as he closes it.
First step of adventure. She thinks as he falls into step with her.
And if he places his hand on the small of her back, she doesn't ask him to take it away.