"How are you feeling, babe?" Ward asked in a quiet soothing voice.

"I feel like I got stabbed," Skye answered, pain medication slurring her response. "Did someone stab me?"

"They weren't trying to, but you got in the way," he admitted.

"In the way of what?" she giggled like a tipsy party girl.

"In the way of me," he replied seriously.

Her face suddenly became filled with rage, and she tried to sit up.

"Who the hell tried to stab you? Point me to them and I will karate chop their head off," she said seriously, though her eyes began to swim as the room spun around her.

"Easy there killer, I got it taken care of, they never would have stabbed anyone, if you hadn't gotten in the way."

"Oh, so it's my fault," she yelled.

"Well, you should know better by now, I mean one of us is a trained agent and one of us says bang when they fire a gun," he replied with a heated tone.

"Well, one of us didn't want to explain to Mikey why his uncle can't come build him a swing set this summer," she sniffed, thinking of his adorable nephew they had spent the weekend with last month.

"Babe, Mikey is 3 months old, I don't think he could use a swing set this summer," Ward tried to appeal to logic, in order to avoid the fact that she was putting his life ahead of hers.

"I'm tired," she said rolling over to avoid the same fight they always had after a dangerous mission. Only this time, pain shot through her as her stitches pulled. Stupid stab wound! She thought, I can't even pout when I want to.

"You can't move like that," he said in his know it all tone, that drove her up the wall.

"I can do whatever I want," she growled, refusing to let him win by turning back to him.

"You are just going to hurt yourself being stubborn. Is that what you want?" he continued, using the same condescending tone.

"I want you to leave," she growled to keep herself from crying.

Ward looked at her for a long time, waiting for her to give up and turn back to him, but she wouldn't. So, for her sake, he left, hoping that they would work it out the next day. In truth, he was actually a little angry at her for getting in the way. He could barely breathe the whole time she was being stitched up. Sixteen stitches, she was lucky that she hadn't damaged any organs, but she would have a nasty scar. Another reminder of how close he had come to losing her again. There had been too many close calls lately. He wanted to ask her to give up the job, but she was getting good, better than him, almost. She had natural instincts that he could never understand. That was the only way she had gotten between them and the Clairvoyant's henchmen, but he wished that she wasn't quite as quick, because being beside the table was so much worse that being on it.

Silent tears made pools in the corners of her eyes as she bit her lip to keep from turning back to him. Finally, she heard the near silent swish of the lab doors allowing him to exit. Still, she did not turn back. she waited to be sure that he was up the stairs, before rolling onto her back, clutching her side. It shouldn't hurt this much, she thought, as her fingers ran over the gauze taped to her side. It was a close call for sure, but she was fine, so did Grant have to make such a big deal about it. He had taken a bullet for her for god's sake. One little stab wound, well maybe not that little, but still, he was totally blowing it out of proportion.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Coulson asked coming out of the shadows of the loading bay, and into the lab.

"When are people going to stop treating me like a child that needs to be taken care of?"

"Everyone, or someone specific?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"You care about me, right?" she asked, again turning the question in a different direction.

"I... You are a member of my... We..." he fumbled around, trying not to say the wrong thing, only to be interrupted.

"AC, come on, No one else at SHIELD wanted me here, if not for you I would be in some detention center, getting 30 minutes of sunlight a day. You can say you care about me," she assured him.

"You are a unique person Skye. It would be a tragedy not to value that," he replied.

"So you value me, but you send me out on missions. You trust me to get the job done. You can understand that sometimes the job puts you in harm's way," she rambled.

"Just because I understand it, doesn't mean I wasn't scared to death today, when Ward said that you had been injured."

"But the work we do is important, we saved a lot of lives today," she said, not mentioning that it would have been worth her life.

"The work is important, but so are you," he acknowledges the unsaid.

"But so is he," she returned quickly.

"And that is why SHIELD frowns on relationships between agents."

"But you said we could."

"I said I wouldn't try to stop you. I didn't say the I agreed with it. You know how trying to have a life has worked out for me," he said sadly.

"So, you think it won't work out?" she asked with watery eyes.

"I think if anyone could make it work out, it would be you two. There are few people in this world with better natural chemistry than you guys. I knew that first day in the interrogation room, that you would have to be separated with a fire hose one day."

Skye blushed.

"Want the advice of an old man?"

"You're not that old," she insisted.

"True, but still, I am wise beyond my years, and you should listen to me. If you want to work things out, you need to accept that one or both of you is always going to be in danger, and figure out how you are going to deal with that, instead of being angry and upset all the time."

"Thank you for your sage wisdom Obi Wan," she nodded sleepily.

"Get some rest, Padawan," he smiled smoothing her hair down as her eyes fell shut. "Everything will be better in the morning."

The next morning, Skye was still asleep when Grant went to check on her, so he went up to the kitchenette to fix breakfast. FitzSimmons were at the counter, already eating bowls of what Grant assumed was gruel.

"Good Morning," Jemma chirped happily.

"Morning," Grant grumbled.

"I made my Nan's famous porridge,"Fitz commented, gesturing to the pot of goo on the stove.

"It is the perfect food for someone recovering like Skye," Simmons added.

"Well, I think I will pass," Grant said, pulling out the ingredients for a protein shake. "Skye is sleeping, so I think I am going to go for a run."

"Your loss," Fitz sniffed indignantly, before clearing his dishes and heading for the lab.

Ward was surprised when Simmons didn't follow him. There was a lingering silence which pricked at the back of his neck as he moved about the kitchen.

"Something on your mind, Simmons?" he finally asked.

"I don't think you realize how much you worry her everyday," she decided not to pull any punches. Ward eyed the young scientist carefully. She took it as a sign to continue, "Everytime you come back beaten or bruised or unconscious, she worries for you. I see her pacing in the loading bay, trying to give you your privacy as I patch you back together, but you don't seem to notice her. The relief in her eyes when you come home safe, its remarkable that it took so long for you two to get together, but honestly, if you can't work out a way of dealing with our rather high risk life, I can't see it lasting."

"So, there's no hope?"

"Of course there is hope, you silly man, I just mean that you two need to modulate your response to the other's injury or you are going to go crazy."

Ward thought it over, "Fair enough, I think I am going to take my run now," he replied, thankful for the advise, but needing some space to work things out.

Ward loved when the BUS was grounded and he could get off the treadmill and take a real run. He could fill his lungs with fresh air and empty his mind of useless clutter. Unfortunately, on this day in particular, his run was not as peaceful as usual. He was only run a mile into his run, when he tripped on a tree root, and managed to get a nasty, bleeding bump on the head. He turned back quickly headed for the plane, hoping that he could sneak on board and patch himself up before anyone saw him.

"Oh my god, Ward, what happened to you?" asked the father annoy scientist at the top of the stairs arms full of board games.

"It's nothing Simmons, just a bump on the head," he assured her.

"Do you know who you are? Do you know what day it is?" she asked in full doctor mode.

"Simmons, seriously?"

She raised a brow at him, giving her serious face.

"My name is Agent Grant Ward, You're name is Doctor pain in my butt, and today is Wednesday the 19th. Anything else?"

"Come on smarty pants, you may think it is just a bump on the head, but I would like a closer look," she insisted, dragging him to the lab.

"I finished my gruel, can we play a game now... oh My GOD GRANT, what the hell happened to you?" Skye looked up from her laptop, to see her boyfriend with a gaping head wound.

"It's nothing, babe. I tripped while I was on my run, I should have known better than to go running in the forest," he assured her, noticing that she was proped up and looking much better after a night of sleep, if she was a little pale still, he wasn't going to point it out.

"Looks like you might need a couple of stitches," Simmons commented as she cleaned the wound.

"How many?" Ward and Skye asked at the same time.

"2-3? maybe 4 to be safe?" Simmons answered, preparing the appropriate equipment.

"I still win, badass of the mission," Skye claimed proudly.

"Is that a thing now?" he asked, wincing as he was shot with a local anesthetic.

"Yeah, Coulson said we need to figure out how to deal with the stress of our dangerous work environment, so I thought we would just go out and do our jobs and take turns being the hero, unless, one of us is incapacitated, and then it switches," she made it sound like laundry duty, but that was their version of normal.

"Does that mean I am in charge next?" Ward asked.

"If you boo-boo is healed," she pouted her lips at him, and he had to fight the urge to go kiss the smirk from her lips.

"It will be, so what are we going to do today?" he asked, as Simmons finished the last stitch.

"Simmons and I were going to play monopoly," Skye answered.

"Does she know youu like to throw the board, when you know you are going to lose?" he teased.

"ONE TIME!" she yelled back, as Simmons slipped out of the lab, leaving the love birds to their make up, while she met Fitz in his bunk for a debriefing.