AN: Ok, I had to do this short epilogue but I promise this story is done now. Because I need to move onto a post-TRACKS one that's swirling in my head. And I'm taking fic requests, if you have em…PM me, leave them in a review or shoot me a note on Tumblr (same name as here…annaliesegrace).

THANK YOU to everyone who favorite, followed and especially those who reviewed. Makes my day. I am still blown away by the response this story has gotten.

Enjoy and don't forget to leave a review…they are always appreciated.

Epilogue

Phil Coulson woke four hours after falling asleep; stretching he tried to go back to sleep but found he couldn't get his mind to settle. Skye weighed heavy on him, now that her power had manifested surely it would again and Coulson wasn't confident they could continue to keep it from SHIELD. Only so many "electrical surges" could be explained away.

Deciding to get up and maybe convince May to show him some Tai Chi, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and blue t-shirt and went down the stairs.

Without turning on the lights he made a cup of coffee using the new Keurig machine Skye had insisted on.

Cup in hand, he snagged an apple as well and turned to head to May's bunk, and came to a dead stop.

Well, that's interesting…

Lying on one of the couches was Agent Ward and Skye, she was lying half on him, half shoved between her SOs larger body and the cushions, he had both arms wrapped protectively around her torso. They were sound asleep. And…she was drooling on him.

He stood there for several minutes, watching the pair.

A small smile cracked on his face. Relationships between agents were technically against protocol (and yes, he had given Ward a hard time about May – but that was born more of Coulson being protective of her than protocols), but Coulson also knew a certain Strike Team Delta that not only broke the rule but flaunted it on a regular basis. And technically Skye was not an agent, she was a consultant.

"He's attached to her," a quiet voice said from next to him.

"Obviously," he replied just as quietly and turned to see May standing beside him, dressed in workout clothes. Did the woman ever sleep?

"She makes him smile."

Coulson looked at her. "Aren't you two…" She silenced him with a look that told him all he needed to know – she wasn't emotionally involved. "Alright then."

Then May looked him up and down and whispered, "You aren't planning on working out in that are you?"

Looking down at himself he frowned, what was wrong with what he was wearing? "Yes, problem?"

The look on her face told him that yes, it was, but she narrowed her dark eyes at him and responded, "No, come on, let them sleep."

With a last look at the pair on the couch, Coulson followed May toward the back of the plane.

Ward woke first, initially confused about the weight that covered his right side. Then the weight sighed and shifted and he remembered.

And he had to resist jumping up from the couch - this was not a position they should be found in by anyone, but especially Coulson.

So despite the fact Ward wanted to let her sleep (especially on him), he gently roused her by rubbing his hands gently but firmly across her back and whispering her name. It was only after the fifth "Skye" came out of his mouth that she finally moved in earnest, lifting her head groggily from his chest.

And he realized there was a wet spot on his shirt - she'd drooled on him.

Then, as if realizing their positions, she snapped up, pulling herself off him and for a moment Ward missed her warmth.

"Hey," he said quietly and reached out, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped her braids behind an ear.

"Hey," she replied back and shifted more to a sitting position, forcing him to do the same.

"You ok? How's the head?"

"Better actually."

"Still hungry?" he asked and her stomach grumbled loudly in response. They both laughed a little. "I guess that's a yes."

He stood and stretched and when he looked down at her she wore an apprehensive expression on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked and sat on the coffee table in front of her.

"So do we just pretend that yesterday didn't happen?" They both knew she was referring to her powers.

"Nothing has changed except we are armed with new knowledge."

She gave the couch a sideways look. "Nothing has changed? I think-"

He interrupted; this was not a conversation for now – he hadn't quite sorted out his feelings for her. "Are you hungry or not?"

"Starving," she said and stood when he did, following him into the kitchen.

When her hand went for a cereal bowl he gave her a stern look. "No, I said I'd make you breakfast, so I am. Something that doesn't come coated in sugar."

"Pancakes?" she asked hopefully. Then at least she could have syrup.

"No, no pancakes. Omelets. With vegetables," he said and starting pulling out ingredients.

She pouted at him.

"Fine, you can have bacon." She brightened at that and Ward internally rolled his eyes. "Now, out of my way."

"Yes, sir," she chirped and moved to the opposite side of the kitchen, hopping up on the counter to watch him chop green peppers and tomatoes.

It was the best damn omelet she'd ever had.

Not that Skye would ever tell him that.

END