Chapter Text
The floor of the gym groaned with the punishment currently being inflicted on it, and the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin rang out across the room, punctuated by the dull thud of a body hitting the mat and a groan of exertion.
Panting for breath, Skye stood back from her attacker and brushed the droplets of moisture from her forehead with her arm. She eyed him cautiously and adopted a defensive stance as he climbed to his feet and cast an approving gaze over his enemy.
“Again!” she demanded, watching as he circled her in a predatory manner, his eyes never once leaving hers.
“You sure?” he asked, his chest rising and falling quickly, signifying that he was just as out of breath as she was.
“I’m not your rookie any more, Ward. I can take care of myself. So... Let’s go again,” she commanded, noting the dark sweat stains that were now marking practically every inch of his grey t-shirt. He lifted the hem of the shirt and casually wiped at his forehead, and Skye’s eyes darted to the hard muscles of his stomach as he did so.
“Alright, but I’m not gonna go easy on you this time,” he teased, and she deflected his taunting smirk with a roll of her eyes.
“Whatever. Bring it, robot!” she challenged, noting the slightly sentimental smile that all too briefly settled upon his lips.
“Okay but just remember, sweetheart... you asked for it,” he shrugged. The cocky smile he bestowed upon her succeeded in being both irritating and annoyingly sexy.
Within moments they were sparring again, their bodies twisting and turning as they lunged and ducked; blocking and weaving, rolling and twisting out of the other’s path. They broke apart for a few moments and shared a smile, and as they took the opportunity to regroup and reconsider tactics, Ward dragged his sweat drenched shirt over his head then tossed it haphazardly to the ground behind him.
Skye frowned as she found herself unconsciously licking her top lip, and she swallowed hard as she allowed her eyes to take in the sight of his broad chest without even a trace of guilt. She’d already caught him staring at her with the same silent longing, and she knew that the sports bra and tank top she was wearing did little to detract his eye.
In the six months since Ward had rejoined the team, relations had very slowly begun to improve between the SHIELD agent and her former SO. Eventually her contempt for him had given way to playful sniping, which had in turn developed into a grudging respect and fledgling trust that almost made them friends again. Almost. But there was a part of Skye that couldn’t forget the pain of his betrayal - and she had come to realise that broken hearts sometimes take longer to heal than any physical wound.
It wasn’t like they’d started flirting with each other again; except that they had.
The attraction that had always existed between them sparked and crackled furiously, not to be dampened by reason or old grudges - or even the disapproving eye of less-forgiving colleagues. They shared stolen glances and longing gazes, yet both were too afraid to consider what this meant to contemplate it for too long.
Skye blinked as she suddenly regained her senses, and then she simply nodded as Ward cocked his head to ask if she was okay.
They resumed their places again, and another torrent of punches and kicks exploded between the pair. Skye found herself suddenly angry that she could feel him holding back. She’d put four bullets in his side, he knew she could hurt him, yet he wouldn’t allow himself to let go. His movements were controlled and measured, and her heavy handed blows grew increasingly clumsy the more annoyed she became.
“Stop holding back!” she shouted, narrowed eyes locking his gaze in place, and suddenly she found uncertainty there. Taking a few moments to catch her breath, she added quietly, “I trust you.”
He thought over her words for a moment and nodded slowly, and once again they were engaged in a round of hand to hand combat. Seizing her around the waist, Ward attempted to flip her over his shoulder, but within seconds Skye had slipped from his grasp and aimed a punch at his face that she knew he would block. Her leg swept out a second later, catching him off balance, and with a heavy thud Ward landed on his back to stare up at her with an approving smile whilst his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath.
“I thought I told you not to hold back?!” She cocked her head, planting her hands on her hips.
Before the weight of her glare had been worked to full effect, she found herself swept from her feet and rolled onto the ground, Ward’s body resting carefully above hers.
“Who said I was done?” he countered, arching a dark eyebrow as he restrained her underneath him, his fingers curled around her wrists, which he held down against the mat with relative ease.
Her eyes betrayed her surprise, and he watched her pulse hammer against the skin of her throat as she peered up at him.
“Well, I had to let you take me down sooner or later... It was getting embarrassing.”
She tilted her chin defiantly, surprised and a little appalled by the stirring sensation in the pit of her stomach, and she had to stop herself from staring at his lips. His breath was hot against her skin, and she closed her eyes momentarily as she tried to control the boisterous thumping of her heart.
Ward laughed, deftly moving from above her and extending his hand to pull her to her feet. She muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and padded over to one of the chairs to snatch up her water, gulping eagerly from the bottle. The sensation of the cool water on her throat was soothing, but the weight of his gaze upon her was all too distracting and she screwed the lid back onto the cap and watched him approach her with a questioning smile.
“I was gonna grab a pizza... Maybe order in?” He shrugged, clearly testing the waters to ascertain the approximate state of repair their relationship was currently at.
“You eat takeout?” she eyed him suspiciously, clearly not convinced on the subject. The old Grant Ward was annoyingly health conscious and not in the business of chowing down on junk food. “The Grant Ward I know is repelled by the cheesy, carby goodness of a Chicago deep pan.”
Ward gathered up his shirt and plucked a clean towel from the back of one of the chairs before using it to wipe off his neck and shoulders. “Maybe you don’t know everything about me?!”
Skye narrowed her eyes, sucking in a breath though her teeth as she pretended to ponder his words. “Yeah, see... That’s never been a good thing, Ward.”
He tried to sigh indignantly, but his expression gave him away, and he offered her a genuine smile that he hoped in some way conveyed the conviction behind his words.
“One day, you’ll trust me again... I promise.”
Skye held his gaze for longer than made her comfortable, and she noted how close they were standing at almost the same time that she noted her hand had somehow fluttered up against his chest. She bobbed her head slowly, hoping that this time it would be true; because she wanted so desperately to believe in him again. For one thing, it would make the almost overpowering urge to drag him to her bed that much more manageable and not wholly out of the question. And given the tension that had been between them for the last few weeks, that could only be a good thing. Or so she imagined. In her daydreams and deepest fantasies, it was a very good thing.
An insistent buzzing promptly interrupted their silent staring match, and Skye’s cheeks blushed even redder as she snatched up the phone with a degree of irritation that didn’t go unnoticed by Ward. Recovering quickly, she began a stream of babble that reminded him of the girl in the van he had known a few short years before.
Clutching her water bottle in her hand, she cast a glance at her watch and then up at the clock on the gym wall, as if hoping one would somehow buy her more time.
“Anyway, as much as I would love to watch you try to eat away that six pack with a Meat Lover’s Feast and mozarella sticks, I have a... thing tonight.”
“A thing?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest as he noted how uncomfortable she suddenly seemed to have become.
“Uh, yeah. A... a date. I have a date,” she replied, hoping to sound buoyant at the prospect, but failing miserably, “so I guess I should go and shower. That’s good date etiquette, right?!”
His face fell at her revelation, and she noted just how crestfallen he had become with a pang of guilt.
“That ‘Lincoln’ guy?” Ward guessed, having noticed the tell-tale glances the young medical student had frequently directed at Skye whenever Ward had had the misfortune to have to suffer through his company. He wasn’t sure how he’d resisted the urge to unleash his very specific skill set on the Inhuman, but he assumed the fact Lincoln Campbell was still alive meant that he was developing a degree of self-restraint. Although in that moment, he was regretting it bitterly.
“Yeah,” Skye nodded, directing her gaze to her feet as she avoided the heartbroken expression she knew she would find written across his features.
“Right,” he said softly, stepping back and forcing himself to tear his gaze from her. She wasn’t his to look at, not any more, and the idea of her being with another man in any sense of the phrase brought a familiar and unwelcome burn to the back of his throat.
“Okay, so... I should...” Skye began, ducking out of his way and walking toward the door, closing her eyes and trying to dismiss the nagging pain in her heart as she felt his eyes follow her across the room.
She paused in the doorway and turned to regard him, noting how he looked momentarily hopeful at the gesture.
“Maybe we can do this again tomorrow?”
“Sure. Whatever you want,” he replied good-naturedly, although his smile did not reach his eyes.
He watched her leave with a deep self-loathing descending upon him that he knew his therapist would not approve of. But it was his actions that were to blame. He had pushed her away with his lies and duplicity - he was the reason she would never be his. Out of all of the numerous regrets he held, she was the greatest source of pain.
Sometimes he believed they could have been truly happy, that she could have loved him almost as much as he knew he had grown to love her. And then he’d be reminded of what he’d lost, and he knew he loathed himself more than Skye or any of the team could possibly hate him.
He could hate Lincoln, and of course he did. But it wouldn’t change anything.
Ward walked toward the door and leant languidly against the wall as he watched her retreating figure, hardly noticing that Bobbi had strolled into the gym and was following the direction of his stare.
Folding her arms across her chest, she shook her head pointedly, her tone conveying her ultimate pleasure at the truth in her taunting words.
“Never gonna happen.”