Chapter One – Weird

"This is weird"

"You can say that again"

"This is weird"

She shoots him a dry look.

Tripp and May's 'private' conversation can be heard by all of them, which shouldn't be all that surprising given that they're all stood together, watching their sort-of-ex team member through the window.

A year ago, the thought of their resident specialist even being near children for longer than ten seconds would've rendered them all (except for May) into a fit of giggles, and yet, here they all were, 'watching' – read spying – on him as he gives his complete and undivided attention to his four year old daughter.

And they think it's weird.

But Skye can't say they're wrong.

Out of all of them, she'd spent the most time with them, and not once, not ever, did he even give a ghost of a hint of a clue, that he had a daughter. They all had him pegged as a lone wolf, the stoic, by-the-book, emotionless soldier. He'd shown them hints of actual emotion, but nothing solid and consistent.

So yeah, she had to admit, watching him shower a four year old with love and affection to a point even she thought was past sweet it could be called sickly, was just weird.

Ward's daughter was tall for her age, though considering her father stood at six foot and four inches tall, that wasn't too surprising. He was the tallest person on the base, just edging out Mack, who had joined them as their new mechanic.

Her hair was a deep brown colour and colour with streaks of blonde. She already had strong features, which resulted in her physically resembling her father a great deal, which meant she would definitely be attractive when she was older.

The team couldn't decide on who to pity more, Ward as the girl's father, or any would-be boyfriend she brought home.

Something told them Ward would not be forgiving when it came to his little girl.

"I wonder if his ears are ringing"

They are all shaken out of their musings by the arrival of Coulson, who strode through the doors leading towards his office, making his way to where they had congregated in the corridor, with three people trailing behind him.

They all exchange wary glances with each other, though May and Tripp's are more calculating than wary, before Coulson decided to take the plunge, in an attempt to break the ice, with his usual cheery smile, "Well then, let's get inside and do the meet and greet, shall we?"

And with that, he pushed open the door to the lounge.

She giggled as she ran back to him, grasping another fresh piece of paper in her tiny hands. She leapt at him, from where he was lounging one the floor, propped up against one of the couches, his back against one of the arms, with one knee close to his chest with the second one extended straight out in front of him.

He grabbed her straight out of the air, sending a new course of giggles through her, and he felt his face morph into a grin.

It was a weird feeling, he had to admit, thanks to the 'gifts' his father had passed onto him, he'd never really been able to tap into, or even show, any real form of emotion – forming the attachments was just too difficult for him to manage.

Not even Fury, who'd pulled him out of Plymouth Juvenile Detention Centre, given him fresh clothes, a hot meal and a new purpose in life, rarely managed to get more than a glimpse of a real smile. He'd taught him a good set of values though – strong, moral ones – before allowing him to train as a fully-fledged agent of SHIELD.

When he'd started The Academy, he'd wanted to be one of the best.

Thanks to Fury, they were calling him the next Romanoff, and he'd even worked with her when he was a junior agent – he'd been handpicked to serve on STRIKE Team Delta.

He'd always be grateful for that – both to Fury for helping him get that far, and to Barton, for giving him the opportunity to prove himself.

He'd felt something on the day he graduated – as one of the youngest and fastest recruits ever to enter The Academy – which he was told was pride. He hadn't known what he was supposed to do with it, so he buried it, ignored it.

It just hadn't done anything.

So that's what he did, he became the man who just didn't feel anything. He started working to be the best he could be – the best since Romanoff – a remark which still irritated him. He wanted to be the best.

Okay, so he'd learnt a bit more about his pride and developed a slight ego, but in his own defence…

He was that good.

But he'd never got around to anything more than different forms of anger, some pride, both in himself and his work, and attraction – which was mostly just lust.

Which led him back to his baby girl.

Being of a loner mentality, often spending months away at a time, and never staying inactive for too long, specialists never bothered to establish real world connections, they just weren't possible – or practical, which suited him just fine. Whenever two specialists felt their urges and weren't on mission, they just 'took care' of each other.

Which was how he met his daughter's mother.

They were both on their down time when they both felt like they wanted sex, and they found each other attractive. They slept together several times over the course of the single week they had together, before he was sent off to run the backend of a mission in Budapest.

He'd never heard from her again, and three months later he'd all but forgotten about her altogether, which was just what specialists did.

It was fifteen months after their first and only meeting that Fury ordered his ass out of the embassy in Warsaw, blowing his cover in the process, and had him escorted back to The Hub for a meeting.

It was there he heard the full story.

His partner – for lack of a better term – had either forgotten to take the pill, or it hadn't worked (which was more likely) and as a result, she had gotten pregnant. She'd endured the pregnancy alone, taken a desk job in The Hub before she gave birth and for a short while afterwards, and then she had begun training to return to the field as a part time field agent. Apparently she'd been ecstatic to receive the call to return to the field.

She never returned home.

Fury had shown him the mission report filled in by the senior field agent overseeing the op – Agent P Coulson – which was ironic, and then given him the girl's birth certificate.

She was named Grace Jeanne Ward – she had his surname.

He was then given a list of SHIELD approved orphanages – he remembered seeing St. Mary's on the list, now that he thought about it – and told that he had to make a decision before the end of the week, before he was left alone after they presented his daughter to him for the first time.

She was tiny in that blanket, with soft wisps of black curls on top of her head, and bright blue eyes that would eventually settle into the same shade of brown as his own. The agent who brought her was clearly upset, Grace was visibly fighting her, not liking the strange woman who had a hold of her, and who seemed relieved to be rid of her, which was evident as she left the room as fast as she could without seeming overly rude.

Not that he'd noticed – Grace was taking up all of his attention.

He settled her into the crook of his arm, before taking a real look at her.

She was perfect.

She would always be perfect.

And that's when he knew for definite that he could access his positive emotions because he loved her, and he would do anything to protect her.

No matter the personal cost.

She settled in to his chest, making soft gurgling noises which brought tears to his eyes, which he had to swipe furiously at his face.

In his haste, he almost dropped her.

She giggled at that, and his heart leapt into his throat. She was definitely his daughter.

Only his family could be that crazy, but for her sake, he hoped, genetically, she shared as little with him as possible.

When he got settled, and sat down in a chair, still cradling her, he traced her with his finger, causing her to giggle again, as he ran over her outline, before reaching up to grab his finger, and he let her as he grinned back at her curious form, feeling pride again, but not for himself this time, but for her.

She swiped at him a few times, as he made encouraging sounds at her, watching as she never gave up, getting closer each time, before she grabbed hold of his finger and squeezed tightly, her grip was strong.

He hadn't allowed her to let go since.

"Ward!"

He looked up from where Grace was starting yet another picture (it's not like he had kept every one she'd ever given him in a box in his wardrobe), which he wasn't allowed to see yet – "It's a secret Daddy!" – to find a new and familiar face taking position against one of the other couches, and he nodded in greeting.

"Agent Hartley"

"Agent Ward", she returned his greeting, before he caught a good look at the two men who were with her. Hartley followed his gaze before introducing him, "You've met Idaho before I believe", both men nodded in greeting, "this is Lance Hunter. He's-"

"Barbara Morse's ex-husband. Ex British SAS. Currently working as a top tier mercenary out in the Middle East, or at least", he looked him up and down, acknowledging his presence, he added, "reportedly is"

The British man regarded him with ever increasing eyebrows, until he calmed them down and his face settled into an expression of pity, "So you know the demonic Hell beast that is my ex-wife? I'm sorry to hear that"

He heard a few breathy chuckles from his right, which told him the rest of the team had finally deigned to join them, after watching through the window for the last half hour, but he kept his focus locked on the three newcomers. Hartley seemed closer to both of the two men than they were to each other, but it was hard to tell – they definitely had a strong bond.

"Specialists don't make many friends, so we tend to stick together. It's a small community – we pretty much all know each other"

"She never mentioned you"

"She wouldn't have. Like I said, we weren't friends. Word just got around that she was getting married and then someone spread around who it was to as well. Marriage is a rare thing for a specialist. The divorce, not so much"

"What about you?" Hunter gestured to the where Grace was sat hovering over the table, "Married?"

"No"

"Girlfriend then?"

"No"

They all seemed to want him to elaborate on that, but he had no intention of doing so. The team – his team had all been avoiding him for weeks, with the exception of Coulson who took time to find them every day and check up on them, which was a nice gesture. He wasn't ready for straight up forgiveness, but he was at least trying, for which he was grateful.

If nothing else, he'd given him understanding, which was all he really wanted.

And he wasn't sharing his secrets with two people he didn't know at all, and one sort-of old friend that in reality, he barely knew at all and hadn't seen in years.

At least Coulson seemed to trust them, so he supposed that had to count for something.

"So I take it you all know each other then?"

Idaho rolled his eyes in response, "No we've never met before. We just happen to be very good at guessing"

"Anyway", Coulson tactfully ignored the blatant sarcasm, he'd had a lot of practice with that over the last few months, "since you've already met Agent Ward, Agent Hartley, Mr Idaho and Mr Hunter, allow me to introduce Deputy Director Melinda May", who nodded in greeting, "Agent Antoine Triplett, one of our specialists", who offered a cheery wave, "Agent Skye", who followed May's greeting of a nod, "Agent Leopold Fitz, our lead engineer", who gave them a brief wave, "and I believe you already know Agent Mackenzie, our new mechanic"

"We do", they turned their attention to him, "how've you been?"

"Me? I'm good. How'd you lot survive The Fall?"

Hartley grimaced at the memory, "We were undercover when our covers got blown. We fought our way out. Laid low. Eventually Philly here", Coulson's nose crinkled at the nickname, "whose not dead. Still want an explanation for that by the way, caught up with us, offered us a job, and here we are"

"Well then, now that that's out of the way. We have a briefing to start"

He watched as they all moved from the entryway towards the far side of the room, where a holo-table was set up, serving as Coulson's main briefing area for his senior staff, which apparently now included Hartley, while Idaho wandered off towards the fridge and Hunter dropped to the floor at his side.

"So who's the little one?"

He raised his eyebrow as he looked at the Brit, pulling away when he realised their faces were a bit too close for comfort. He was about to respond when Idaho took a similar position on the floor to his left, leaning against one of the armchairs, before offering them both beers. Hunter reached over and took one without hesitation, while his hand stilled momentarily before he accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Before he could reply, a familiar weight set itself upon his lap, and his head turned to see Grace, who had come to investigate, deciding the best place to sit was on his lap, with her wide brown eyes – the same shade as his very own – trained intently on Hunter, who returned her gaze with an amused look on his face.

"Who are you?"

She definitely didn't get her sense of discretion from him.

That had to be from her mother.

"Well aren't you an … inquisitive little one?"

She regarded the mercenary for a full minute, staring at him intently, before shrugging and turning back to face him, and he noted for the first time, that she looked drowsy, which she confirmed by putting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his ribs.

"Daddy 'm tired"

She punctuated her statement with a yawn, he felt the heat of her breath through the thin layer of his shirt, and then the change in her breathing told him she was asleep. He moved her over, so that she was on his left shoulder and he could use his arm to support her, while he reached across to brush her hair out of her eyes, before leaving her to settle, taking a swig of his beer, and joining in the two mercenaries' discussion on SHIELD's arsenal of weaponry.

"Any questions?"

He finished the main part of his briefing, keeping it to the point and not letting his team veer off on tangents. He'd gotten to the end of the points he'd wanted to cover, which he wanted to follow with a review of everyone's roles, considering they had more people to work with, when he realised he'd lost his audience.

Hartley and Mack were sharing a smirk while shooting glances towards Skye, who was trying (and failing) not to stare at, he followed her gaze to where Ward was sat, cradling Grace against his chest. He turned his attention back to his resident hacker, who had a look on her face which he would describe as a cross between wistful and sad.

He fought the urge to groan.

Apparently the two of them were back to their flirting/not flirting and in love/avoidance pattern – the one that either gave him and May a resounding headache, or … something to laugh at, depending on which day it was and how riled up Skye could get Ward.

He took a quick glance at his second in command, and found her wearing her usual blank mask. Though, after knowing her for years, he could see the annoyance in her eyes. She'd commandeered Skye's training, but the hacker hadn't actually requested a change of SO – she was either putting it off or didn't actually want to swap, and was just avoiding Ward.

There was a lot of that going around.

So in short, yes, this was definitely a headache.

One thing he knew about Hartley was that she had a wicked sense of humour, and the glances she was giving Skye, flicking between her and Mack, who seemed torn between stopping her now and watching for whatever she's planning.

"So is he single?"

That was not where he was expecting her to go.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Ward, Coulson. Keep up. Single dads are hot. Is he single?"

Fitz and Tripp cough out noises of disbelief, while Mack and May are both amused, and it takes him a second to figure out why.

Skye's radiating anger at the older woman, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent him from laughing – especially when he sees the glint of laughter reflected in Hartley.

She's deliberately making Skye jealous.

As Director, he needs to be level headed, cool, calm and collected at all times. As a human being, he feels like this is a bad idea, and maybe a bit much. As the agent who was given a team, and made to watch them interact and work together for a year …

Why haven't they done this before?

There's a number of female agents on base who'd do it if he asked, or even a few who'd do it anyway.

On second thought, he's not quite sure how he feels about that.

They've just finished discussing the differences in their preferred styles of assaults, because, well it's the only thing they're sure to have in common, when Hartley takes a seat in between him and Hunter, pushing the Brit sideways, so that there's not enough sofa backing for him, and, grumbling, move moves to take a seat next to Idaho.

And that's when she starts, what ends up as a pseudo game of twenty questions between them, about his work over the last ten years, while sharing a few stories of her own. The tone is light, almost friendly, and they've just finished her story of the daring escape from Belize in '08 when they're interrupted by Coulson.

Most of the team has dispersed, there's just Skye, Mack and Coulson with the four of them, and Coulson motions towards the clock on the wall, which reads 22:03.

"We've got an early mission tomorrow", they recognised the same tone of dismissal he normally uses, before he addresses him directly, "the mission pack's on your bed"

"You need a mission pack?"

He turned to a slightly confused Hunter, "Yeah. Being around me makes them … uncomfortable", he stresses the last word, knowing that Skye can hear him, and he wouldn't be unsurprised if the others were listening in from the corridor, "so I just read the mission packs"

"Ah. Fair enough", he looks thoughtful for a moment, "so what's you role in this crazy setup?"

"I'm SHIELD's senior field agent", he watched the shock register on their faces, "I am responsible for the oversight of all field operations which includes the training and development of all the new recruits"

"So you're like Mr PT for SHIELD?"

He let out a small snort, "I suppose that's one way of putting it", he paused, before adding, "and when we get back, I'll be putting you three through your paces, and if you survive, we'll see about making you two", he gestured to the two mercs, "real SHIELD agents", he stood up and turned to look at Coulson, "I'll be prepped and ready to go. You'll be watching Grace for me. Night all"

He walked away to the choking sounds of disbelief, not noticing Coulson's cringe at the memory of pink glitter down his suit, he paused to open the door, the stop in his pacing jarring her slightly, which was enough to startle her, and with one hand on the door handle, he stilled as she looked up at him.

"Da-", she yawned, "-ddy"

"Shh Baby", he rocked her slightly, "don't go back to sleep. We need to get you ready for bed"

She resettled her head against his shoulder, muttering, "Mmm … 'kay", as she returned to her slumber, completely ignoring him.

He brushed her hair out of her face as he gently prised to door open, before slipping out and heading for their adjoining rooms.

"Is he always like that?"

Hartley's voice cut through the room, shaking them all out of their slightly stunned silence as they watched Ward walk away, carrying Grace on his arms.

Coulson regarded her with a slightly lost look, "What do you mean?"

She shot him a dry one in return, "Ward? Nice? I remember him as a rookie", Skye's eyes bugged out slightly, "I thought he didn't have emotions?"

Coulson grimaced, "Ward is … complicated. He has difficulty forming emotional attachments, and his brain struggles to process his emotions. As for the why … it's all in his file", he saw Skye about to turn on him, so he added, "which is now classified Level Ten, so no, none of you can see it"

He tried not to smirk as the two women pouted.

"What about the girl?"

Idaho's voice was quiet as he asked his question, reminding them all that he was actually there. If his behaviour was anything to go by, then he was a man of few words.

"You mean Grace?" At his nod, he pushed on with an explanation, "Apparently he can … 'connect' … with her more easily because they're family. It apparently takes him months to form connections that should take people like us weeks, or even just days"

"He seemed to like us well enough"

Coulson grimaced, "Yes, well, he doesn't have many friends", Skye grimaced on his right, "I am surprised he took a liking to you though"

"What actually happened with him?"

"It's a bit of a long story", he looked thoughtful for a moment, ignoring the look Skye was shooting at him, "and it's not mine to tell"

Waking her gently, and changing her from her dress into her pyjamas took several minutes longer than it usually did, due to her sleepy state. After she finished changing, he marched her into the bathroom to brush her teeth, before she clambered into bed, pulling her favourite stuffed, bright green dinosaur tight against her.

He sat at the side of her bed, reading one of her favourite bedtime stories, this time in French, as she drifted off into sleep.

He ran his hand through her hair as she lay there, recalling the blonde streaks to be a trait of her mothers, a trait he had found quite attractive on her. It was a shame that he didn't remember her better.

One day Grace would have questions that he just wouldn't have the answers to.

She was quite witty, if he recalled correctly, with a fiery level of passion, which was why they had spent the week together. She had come up to him when he was in the bar, boldly declared her intentions of screwing him for the week, and then they'd spent a week travelling between their two apartments, and at the end of the week, they'd gone their separate ways, as was the norm for specialists and as they had agreed to – there were no romantic feelings involved.

He'd almost completely forgotten about her until he'd been introduced to his daughter over a year later.

What if she hadn't died? Would I even know about Grace?

That startled him.

She'd become such an ingrained part of his life that he couldn't remember not having her around. The seven months he'd spent on The Bus had been the longest he'd gone without her since he'd taken over her custody – not counting his checking up on her every time he returned to The Hub to stock up.

The three months John had her for were Hell. He had to trust in the word of a psychopath that she was alright. That she was alive. That if he complied, he'd get her back in one piece.

How he despised John Garrett.

The Hub had had a school installed when Fury relaxed the rules on fraternisation and more agents started having inter-agency families, and he was very proud to say that Grace had been the top of her class, and she excelled at learning foreign languages.

She got that from him.

He felt that stupid grin stretch his face wide, the same grin that ended up there whenever he was with Grace for longer than ten minutes, before he forced a scowl back onto his face, and then relaxed into a blank mask, schooling his features.

Brushing a kiss across her forehead, he readjusted the covers, tucking her in tighter, and flicking on her nightlight, just in case, he moves towards the door, pausing to switch off her bedroom light, he sends one last glance backwards, before slipping out and heading for his own room.

He had a mission pack to review before he could get some sleep.

But at least he was making Coulson babysit again.

Now where did she leave the glitter glue?

Author's Note

So I've decided to do a follow up series to 'Anything', in which we'll see different and varying reactions, both in the present, and maybe some set in the past.

I'm also taking prompts, so feel free to drop me a line with scenes you'd like to see.

And lastly, I've named the daughter - Grace Jeanne Ward- MAJOR kudos to anyone who can figure out why she has those two names. Hint - both names come from a MARVEL comics character.

-MarvelMatt