Grant Ward didn't go on dates.

Even in high school, he hadn't been the guy to take girls out and try to woo them. He had never needed to. Then he had gotten involved in SHIELD. There wasn't any time for him to date anyone.

SHIELD missions were his life.

When he had time, Ward either used it to relax (barely) or would go to a bar. Even though he didn't date, that didn't mean that Ward wasn't a gentleman. It was the way he was raised and the standards he set for himself.

So, what happened between him and Jem—Simmons that night was definitely not a date. He couldn't quite remember if it had been her that had asked for dinner or if it had been him offering to take her. Paying for dinner was a different story. How could any gentleman not pay? The night had been more fun that Grant had expected it to be. After a few glasses of wine on both of their part, Ward had started to loosen up (but not until after she had jokingly called him a grumpy ass). She had gotten him to laugh more in the night than he had for the past year.

It must have been the wine, hadn't it?

The Bus was silent when they finally returned to it. Simmon's laugh had to be hushed as they slowly made their way back to their "rooms". It had been surprising how easily he found himself opening up to the woman.

That was what she was—a woman, not a child. It had only taken a half an hour for him to see her in a different light. Ward had pegged her wrong. She wasn't a child—yes, there were childlike qualities about her that he didn't have. Innocence still ran through her veins, but with that innocence came knowledge. Simmons wasn't unaware of the pain and destruction around her. She hadn't been in the field as long as he had. She hadn't seen what he had seen (she could never know what he had done).

Luckily, Simmons didn't live in the middle. She was conveniently located near the front of what was passed off as rooms. Ward made sure that he kept his voice low and quiet as they entered where he was sure there would be listening ears. It was late, but there was no doubt in his mind that Skye wasn't still awake.

"Thank you," Simmons said softly as she leaned just slightly against the entrance to her room. "For dinner…" His eyes kept locked on her face as she glanced down for a moment. Ward could see the slight redness that rose on her face. "For tonight." Her eyes connected once more with his.

Ward just nodded his head as he took Simmons in. If questioned, he would claim just trying to memorize his team's facial patterns—but it wasn't about that. It surprised him how much he liked the piece of her hair that had fallen out of the ponytail and was slightly against her cheek. For a moment he considered pushing it back, but he liked her better like this. Simmons didn't seem as uptight—she wasn't so put together.

Silence overtook the both of them.

Simmons just stared up at him as he continued to look at her. If this had been a date, now would be the time to kiss her, maybe lightly at first (although Ward had a suspicion that Simmons didn't like to be kissed lightly).

"See you in the morning."

It was the last thing he said before he walked away from her room. He mentally kicked himself for leaving it like that. By the time he had reached his own room, the decision seemed poor. The feeling in his chest could only be compared to when he was about to go into a mission. It was a mix of anxiety and excitement. There shouldn't have been a surprise that even Grant Ward got scared sometimes. The difference was that he never let his fear define him.

Then it clicked in his head.

Ward wanted to kiss Simmons. The feeling in his gut—it wouldn't go away until he did. And the thing was, the adrenaline that came after that gut feeling was what Ward lived for. He lived for the moments that he overcame the fear and just acted.

His pace was quick as he turned around back towards Jemma's room.

Jemma enjoyed dating.

It felt wonderful to have someone fawn over her, but that didn't mean that she was good at it. All the time she had spent in the lab and away from people, her social skills had taken a hit. Sometimes she felt as if she talked too much, or too quickly. It was the jitters that did her in.

Awkward situations and Jemma Simmons did not mix.

It was different that night with Ward.

It hadn't been awkward—he had lightened up and it had become simple, like a proper date should be. It didn't make her a horrible woman to let him get the check. Jemma liked feeling important and if this weren't a date, then he wouldn't have paid.

Jemma waited for him to make the first move, but instead he left her alone leaning against the wall. Disappointment ran through her as she slowly backed up into her cubby (as she and Fitz called their spaces).

Deep breathes.

Had she done something wrong? All the signs had pointed to that he was going to kiss her. Grant had been staring at her and Jemma had barely been able to breathe against the tension in the room. But she didn't get a goodnight kiss; she didn't even get a goodnight.

Her eyes stayed closed as she pulled off the blazer that had been enclosed on her for the entire night. She had already unbuttoned the blazer as the night had gone on. Now, she was just left in her button-down blouse on. The knock on the frame startled her.

"Grant," she said with wide eyes when she got to the opening. She was suddenly grateful she hadn't begun to undress completely. "What are you—"

His lips against hers cut her off. There was a moment of surprise before her hands sprung up to his face. A light gasp had risen within her when she realized what was happening.

Ward didn't kiss her lightly; he didn't hold her as if she was going to break. Far too many people treated her like a porcelain doll. Jemma wasn't untouched—she had been kissed before. Maybe it was her small figure or her light demeanor, but guys usually had to be told how to kiss her. Grant didn't need that. One hand was steady against her waist and the other was cupping her face. He knew she wouldn't break underneath his strong hold.

Jemma broke the kiss with a smile. Her hands could feel how much he was trying to control his breathing. The kiss had left them both struggling for oxygen. Of course, he had the advantage of training for situations like this in the field.

She was left blushed and breathless.

Ward's thumb brushed against her cheekbone and the oxygen seemed to leave her again.

It was hard to regain her breath when he looked at her like that.

"Goodnight Jemma."