Skye works at a convenience store that Ward comes to everyday. He gets the same thing at the same time and she just starts getting it for him

He immediately walks to the back of the store and I grin.

"Hey, muscle man. Hey," I call, trying to get his attention, "Yo, Robot."

He finally glances at me and I hold up his usual and grin. He walks up to the counter suspiciously.

"How did you know I was getting that?"

I laugh, "Come on, man. You come in here every day at the exact same time and get the exact same thing. I decided to save you some time."

"Why?"

"Just figured I'd do something nice. Hey don't look into it so much, dude. I'm just trying to be nice."

"Oh. Thanks," he says hesitantly and finally gives me a slight smile.

He starts to pull out some money but I wave him away, "I get a free purchase every day. Might as well give it to you. I never use it anyway."

"You don't have to," he said pushing his money at me.

I push it back, "It's the least I can do for a protector for this great world."

"Huh?"

I gesture to his SHIELD badge, partially covered by his hoodie.

"Oh. Well, thanks," he offers another smile before beginning to walk out.

"I'm Skye by the way," I call.

He turns around and looks at me, "Grant. Ward."

"Well nice to formally meet you Mr. Ward sir," I say with a salute.

He gives me an exasperated look, but grins, "Nice to meet you too, ma'am," I laugh and give a little wave as he walks away.

It starts to become sort of a tradition. Ward comes in at the exact same time (4:20 pm) and walks to the cash register where I have his usual waiting for him (a large black coffee and a turkey sub) and we talk. We don't talk a lot, casual conversation about the weather or what we did the day before. I learned a while ago not to ask about his job. He couldn't talk about it and he got really suspicious if I asked.

Most days it was normal. He would come in wearing a t-shirt and leather jacket or hoodie and jeans, stone-faced until he saw me and then he would smile and laugh if I was lucky and he would act like a normal person. I would tell bad jokes and make sarcastic comments about punctuality and monotonous food choices. We had a good, fun thing going. Most days. Today was not most days.

He walked in with his hood up and wandered through the aisles for a couple of minutes before eventually walking up to the register, angling his head so the hood cast a shadow over most of his face.

I give him a ready smile and push his food over to him. He grabs it and mutters a gruff "thanks" before turning away. Frowning, I reach out and put a hand on his arm, tugging on his sleeve.

"Grant?" I hesitate. We normally talk a little before he leaves.

He turned back and from the shift of light, I could just barely see the bruise on his jaw. I gasp and reach up, tugging the hood off and the rest of his face is exposed to the light. He had a dark bruise along his jaw and down his neck, a split lip, and a nasty cut along his hairline starting at his left ear and ending near his eyebrow.

"Oh my God! Did someone try to scalp you?" I exclaim.

He sighed, but gave me a small smile, "Just a tough mission. No big deal."

"No big deal? You look terrible. Does it hurt?"

"It's nothing," he said, but his voice was strained and slightly hoarse.

"What's wrong with your voice?" I ask. I was not known for my ability to hide what I'm thinking.

"My throat is a little screwed up. Someone kicked me," he explained, leaning closer so I could see where the sole of the shoe made an imprint on the skin of his neck.

"Ouch," I murmured, "What happened?"

"A mission was more difficult than expected. That's all," his suspicious voice was back.

"Relax, Robot. You should know by now that I don't care about the mission details."

He sighed again and smiled, "I know. Habit."

I nod, "Well, stay safe. You're scary enough without the cuts and bruises."

"I will," he grinned and my heart gave a little stutter, "See you later, Skye."

"Bye, Grant."

He gave me a quick smile before tugging his hood back on and walking out the door.

Things returned to normal for a couple of weeks. Ward started healing, though he told me the cut on his hairline would scar. We continue to talk, nothing serious, nothing too personal. We formed an easy, fun friendship.

Today, as he walked in, I had a relaxed smile already in place.

"Hey, Robo. What's up?" he grinned.

"Hey, Skye."

"You're early," I teasingly accused, "Couldn't wait to see me?"

"Yes, Skye. I ran out of my apartment a whole minute early just to see your pretty face."

I laughed, trying to fight the blush that was coming on. It was no secret that my new acquaintance was attractive. My manager had made quite a few comments on how she would open the doors for him any day. I would rather not know what she means by that.

"I knew it!" I grinned and he laughed. I pushed his food over to him.

"How has your day been?" he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Boring," I groan, dramatically dropping my head on the counter, grinning in satisfaction as he laughed.

"Me, too," he agreed as I lifted my head.

"How can your job be boring?" I question, "You get to beat people up and save people's lives."

"It's only interesting when you have a mission. My supervisor ordered a mission-free week," he said it like he hated the idea of a week off.

I laugh, "What did you do?"

"He said that I needed to take a break. Something about the fact that I hadn't taken a vacation day in five years."

I stare, "Seriously?! You haven't taken a day off in five years?"

"When you're a government agent, you never have a day off," he said defensively.

I laugh again, "Well, you deserve a week off. Go have fun."

"Fun?" he said, "What is this foreign word?" he mocked.

"Well, fun is a term meaning to participate in activities that are pleasurable to you," I state in my best sophisticated voice and he laughed. "What do you like to do?"

"I don't know," he said, tossing his empty coffee cup into the trash can, "I like to shoot guns."

I laugh, "Something that doesn't involve your job in any way."

"Umm," he seemed to really be struggling, "I like dogs."

"There's a great park about five blocks away, you could hang out there," I suggest.

He nodded, "Sure. I better get going, maybe my S.O. needs my expertise on a mission."

I laugh and cross my fingers teasingly, "I hope you get a job on your week off!" I declare and he laughs.

"Bye, Skye."

"Later, Turbo."

I've noticed in my limited time Ward that he is a very private person. He doesn't like to talk about himself a lot and he gets cagey when you ask personal questions. It's gotten to the point where I ramble on and on about my minor life and he just listens, occasionally commenting or laughing. It's quite embarrassing, really. Telling boring, normal stories to a man who lives a life of action and excitement. But he seems to enjoy the stories and I try to animate them as much as possible, using over-dramatic hand gestures and ridiculous imitations.

I asked him why he liked my stories so much once. He gave me this sad smile and sighed.

"They're basically the only things in my life that are normal. Sometimes I forget that people live completely happy lives, oblivious to everything evil that happens all around them. It's nice to have stories like yours to reconnect myself to that world."

After that, I try to make my stories more entertaining.

Sometimes, he would think aloud about his dreams of having a normal life.

"It just seems so much easier," he says on one of these days, "Not having to fight to save, not only yourself, but everyone else, too. I know that sounds selfish, but…"

"No," I protest, "It's not. Sometimes, you need to think of what's best for you, not everyone else."

Our conversations got longer and more personal after that.

He still wouldn't talk about his job or his past, but he'd talk about himself a little bit more. What he likes (board games, historical fiction), what he hates (liars, vampire romance novels), his pet peeves (pen clicking, nail biting), just small things, but it was more than what he would say before. And as he opened up, his smile got wider, brighter, more relaxed. It could light up the world.

It certainly lit up mine.

Once, he brought some people with him. A man and a woman, both younger than him, trailing behind the Robot as he walks up to me, his stony 'Agent Ward' face firmly in place. The two chattered excitedly over each other about things I couldn't possibly understand.

"T-1000!" I exclaim and he smiles slightly.

"This is Fitz. This is Simmons," he introduced, gesturing to the two people behind him, who had finally stopped talking to stare at her, "This is Skye," he sighed.

The two people looked at him in confusion, but smiled at her politely, "Nice to meet you," the girl, Simmons, said shaking my hand.

"Why don't y'all go get some food?" he asked, "I'm buying."

They nodded and turned away, murmuring to each other, "Why did he introduce us to the cashier?" "I don't know, Fitz, maybe he fancies her."

Ward shook his head and smiled at me apologetically, "Sorry, they kept asking where I was going."

"Are they friends of yours? You don't look like the type to be buddies with leprechauns."

He laughed, "They're on my team. They've been staying at my apartment for the past couple of days."

"I thought you seemed a little tense," she teased and he grinned.

"Yeah, they're apartment building apparently had 'a high level of suspicious energy'," he mocked and I laughed.

"What's their deal? Do they share a brain or something?" he laughed.

"They've been best friends forever apparently. They're scientists."

"They seem nice," I smile as I watch them bicker over the health benefits of a bag of chips.

"They're exhausting," he groaned and put his head in his hands like he could barely keep it up on his own.

I laughed, "They can't be that bad."

"Oh, really? 'Agent Ward, could we do a sleep study on you this week?' 'Ward, your kitchen is insufficiently organized, I changed it for you.' 'Ward, the guest bed hurts my back, could we switch?'" he said, doing his best British accent and I laugh.

"Terrible accent," I hear Simmons call from the candy aisle and he rolls his eyes.

"Well, you are a robot. Can't they reprogram you to be just like them?" he laughed and the duo looked up at him, startled.

They walked over to us, hands full of junk food, and Ward rolled his eyes again, grinning at me.

"Are you guys done?" he asked in a bored voice and they nodded.

I rang them up- and if I gave them a discount because they were Ward's friends so what- and passed Ward his food, grinning. Ward grinned at me and the two scientists' eyes widened.

"Have you ever seen Ward smile?" Fitz muttered to Simmons and she shook her head.

"I didn't know he knew how to smile," she replied and looked over at me, "I think he fancies her."

I could feel myself starting to blush and chuckled nervously. Like always, I covered my feelings with jokes.

"Well, Terminator, I feel special. I'm honored to be the one and only recipient of a Grant Ward Smile," he laughed and the science twins (they really did resemble each other) eyes widened even further.

"It's for special people," he joked.

"Oh, but these two lovely people behind you are special. Why would you not smile at them?"

"Yeah, Ward. Why are you so serious around us?" Fitz said.

"It's just his wiring," I said, leaning around Ward towards Fitz, "You see, when he's around you, he's the Terminator he is, but when he's around me, he malfunctions and acts like a normal person, or at least as normal s T-1000 can get."

Ward rolled his eyes, "Alright, it's time to go."

Fitz and Simmons waved and walked out the store. Ward looked over at me and smiled.

"They're not that bad," I grinned.

"Spend a week straight with them. You'd change your mind," he said and I laughed.

"Well don't keep the children waiting," I said and he chuckled.

"See you tomorrow," he smiled warmly.

"Bye, Grant," I smiled and watched him walk out the store.