A/N: This is part 2 of a 7 part series and a sequel to the story 'One night (between the bars)' - it may not make sense if you haven't read the first story.

Grant Ward was careful to keep his voice even as he sat across the table from his supervising officer, John Garrett, with whom he had just debriefed. "I'd like to know why you're benching me, sir."

Garrett raised a brow in Grant's direction and started gathering his folders. "If I were benching you, Ward, you'd know it. This is a temporary reassignment to the Triskelion, where you'll be running local missions and participating in flash ops. They can use your risk assessment skills."

"Except I didn't ask to be assigned here," he pointed out, his irritation growing. "My skills would be better put to use in the field, and we both know specialists are wasted on anything but high level or deep cover ops."

Folding his hands in front of him, he leveled Grant with a hard stare. "And we both know that most specialists take a break between missions every once in a while. But you? You jump from deep cover op to deep cover op, and you've been doing that for going on seven years now. That little shrink lady that does our evals has been on my back about it for well over a year, and I'm beginning to think she's got a point."

"My work has been exceptional," Grant said, jaw twitching as he recalled his last evaluation with Dr. Harley. As far as he was concerned, psychiatrists were a waste of a profession and he damn well didn't need anyone telling him he couldn't do his job effectively.

"I don't disagree," Garrett told him. "But ever since Agent Hilliard went down on that mission six months ago, you've had a devil riding your back and that's a dangerous thing in our line of work. We all need a breather now and then. My advice? Take this time to get your head on straight."

Clearly Garrett had made his decision, and Grant knew he wouldn't change his mind. "Yes sir."

Garrett slid the hard drive that Grant had recovered across the table. "Take this down to the Communications division and see what they can do with it. It's probably encrypted, and the bullet hole might make it difficult to recover data, but we need whatever they can get off it."

he nodded and took the hard drive as he stood up and headed out of the conference room. The Triskelion was a busy place, and he passed several familiar faces as he took the elevator down to the Communications division. But he didn't stop, not in the mood for small talk.

The Communications division was massive and a bit noisy with the constant clacking of fingers on keyboards and a low buzz of chatter. He walked down the aisle and found the department supervisor, a woman in her mid-fifties named Margaret Daewoo.

Examining the hard drive, she pursed her lips. "Our best high level analyst is out this week, but Greg should be able to help you with this." Handing it back over to Grant, she pointed him in the direction of a cubicle at the end of the row nearest the elevator.

Thirty minutes later, his patience was wearing thin with the bumbling, anxious analyst who didn't even look old enough to drive, much less be working for SHIELD. "Can you get any data off the drive or not?"

Greg eyed him nervously. "I think…"

"You think or you know?" Grant asked in a hard voice.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up behind him. "You're making him nervous, Agent Ward. He doesn't work well under that kind of pressure."

That voice. It seemed impossible, but Grant knew who he would see before he even turned around.

Skye was standing at the end of the row behind him. She wore a figure-hugging red knit shirt that brightened her olive complexion, and her honey brown hair tumbled over her shoulders in just the way he remembered. The Chinese takeaway boxes she was carrying indicated she'd probably just gotten off the elevator. Seeing her caught him completely off guard, and that made him uncomfortable. What was she doing there?

"I kind of forgot to mention that I also work for SHIELD," she said, a small smile on her lips. "Oops."

He felt his lips twitching at that. "Yes, you did."

She nodded to the hard drive. "I can take a look at the hard drive if you want. Because I can guarantee that if you keep looming over Greg like that, you'll be here for a while."

"The drive contains time sensitive intel. It doesn't leave my sight," he told her. "What's your clearance level?"

"Level two," she answered. "I don't know what your mission was, but if all I need to do is crack the encryption then it shouldn't matter. But if it makes you feel better, I can clear it with AC."

Grant watched as she set her boxes on the edge of Greg's desk and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her black pants. She hit a speed dial button – one, he noted – and waited a moment before speaking. "Agent Ward is in my department terrorizing the analysts. He has an encrypted hard drive…"

"With a bullet hole," Greg interrupted her.

"With a bullet hole. He says it's time sensitive. Permission to work my magic?" Skye asked, brushing her hair behind her ear. After listening for a moment, she handed the phone over to Grant.

He took it cautiously, wondering who the hell AC was. "This is Agent Ward."

"Agent Coulson," the man on the other end of the line said. "It's fine for Skye to take a look at it, Agent Ward. She's been covering some of the more sensitive matters for us this week. She's fast and efficient."

"Yes sir," Grant replied, containing his surprise that Skye had Agent Coulson on her speed dial. And based on the number, it wasn't an office extension, either. He looked at her thoughtfully as he handed the phone back to her.

Skye took the hard drive from Greg, who looked relieved to be rid of both it and Grant. Then she gathered her takeaway boxes and motioned for him to follow her. She led him down the aisle and two over to a desk that looked decidedly different from what he expected of a Communications analyst.

Most analysts had a clear order to their work spaces, but if there was order in Skye's system, he couldn't see it. Her intake box was full, though to be fair so was her outtake box. Random pieces of paper were strewn about the desk, on which were written pieces of code, notes in a shorthand he wasn't able to decipher, and random doodlings. The walls of her cubicle were layered with photos. Some were of friends, but there were also postcards from around the U.S. and abroad.

Skye swept a few papers aside in a haphazard manner, clearing a spot for her takeaway boxes. She motioned to the empty chair beside her desk. "Have a seat."

Grant unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down. "Why didn't you mention that you worked here the night we met?"

Skye was busy connecting the hard drive to a laptop that was set up beside her main computer. Shrugging, she answered, "It didn't seem that important."

He ran his hand along his jaw. He felt sure that wasn't the real reason but moved on. "And how did you know my last name?"

She paused, biting her lip and tucking her long, brown hair behind her ear before glancing sideways at him. "Lucky guess?"

He raised his brows, expecting an answer to this one.

"Fine. I was curious so I kind of looked through a few files until I found you."

"You read my file?" he asked incredulously. "You don't have clearance for that."

"Calm down," she said, turning her eyes back to the laptop in front of her. "I didn't read your file. I only looked at photos and names."

She didn't have clearance for that, either, so she must have hacked her way into the specialist files. He didn't like it, but he supposed he could understand it since he'd only given her a first name and then disappeared before she woke up. He was silent as he watched her work; unlike Greg, Skye was swiftly sorting through lines of code on the screen, her fingers moving at lightning speed across the keyboard.

She was just as beautiful as he remembered. When she leaned forward to get a better look at the monitor, her necklace swayed and drew his attention to her cleavage. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as images from their night together came back one by one. This wasn't the place to be thinking about the way she'd looked that night, how warm and soft her skin had felt, or the way she'd moaned his name as she'd moved beneath him. He shouldn't be thinking of how she'd looked up at him with those dark eyes, or the way she'd tasted. He clenched his jaw and inhaled slowly as he reminded himself he was there for a reason.

He turned his attention to the photos on her cubicle wall. Most were of a man and a woman, both of whom looked familiar. He had a vague recollection of seeing them before in the Sciences and Technology department, probably when he'd picked up some new equipment. He recognized Agent Coulson in a couple of them, and he wondered again how she knew him. Her name plaque showed no last name, which was unusual.

Ten minutes later, Skye looked up again. "Good news – only about twenty percent of the files are damaged, which means I can decrypt the remaining files. And I might be able to render partial information from the damaged files."

"How long will that take?" he asked.

"I'm running a decryption algorithm now. It's not a particularly sophisticated encryption, so not too long. It'll take a little longer to see what I can salvage from the damaged files. And of course, it's possible that once I'm in, we're still dealing with encrypted messages inside the files."

He tried not to let his impatience show. "Bottom line?"

"Bottom line, a few hours. How time sensitive is this?" she asked.

"Very."

Skye picked up her phone. From the brief conversation, she appeared to be talking to her supervisor, Mrs. Daewoo. When she hung up, she looked at him. "I'm all yours for the next few hours, so I'll give this my full attention. Now, if you're going to sit here and stare at me, you might as well share my lunch."

She pulled a couple of plates and some plastic cutlery from a drawer and opened up the takeaway boxes. She distributed the sweet and sour chicken, noodles, rice and egg rolls onto the plates and handed one to Grant along with a bottle of water. He hadn't eaten much that morning in his haste to report for debriefing, so he accepted both gratefully.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Skye spoke up again. "It's okay you know. That you left that morning. I never expected you to stay in the first place."

He studied her expression, surprised that she seemed sincere. "I thought it would be easier that way. I left town a few hours later and just got back this morning."

"I guess you won't be around for long. You specialists always seem to be on the move." She handled her chopsticks with ease as she lifted the noodles to her lips.

"I've been reassigned here," he told her, tearing his gaze away from her mouth. "It's temporary, but I'll be running domestic missions for the next few months."

She glanced at him as she sipped her water. "I realize I don't know you that well outside the biblical sense, but that doesn't seem like something you'd sign up for."

Her observation was astute, and he took a moment to think about his response. "They said they need me here, so I'm here."

"Like the good SHIELD agent you are, huh?" she joked. "Man, AC must love you. I was called into his office so many times my first year here that he threatened to just move my cubicle up to his floor. Apparently I'm a smartass."

Somehow that didn't surprise him. "You seem to know Agent Coulson well," he commented. "Speed dial one. How long have you worked here?"

She raised a brow when he mentioned her speed dial settings. "I got into some trouble a few years ago – got caught hacking several federal databases and the SHIELD server."

That was unexpected. "What were you looking for?"

"Information on my dad," she said as she popped a bite of chicken into her mouth. "I was dropped off at an orphanage when I was a few months old. The sisters didn't know anything about my parents but one of them told me later she thought the man who left me there was my father and that he was a government agent. She'd seen an emblem on his ID badge, and she remembered it. After I left St. Agnes, I started looking into it."

The news that her father was a SHIELD agent who had abandoned her was startling. He felt a stab of sympathy because her expression showed it was a difficult topic. He couldn't help wondering why she was being so open with him. "How old were you?"

"Fifteen," she answered, tossing her plate into the trash can beneath her desk. "I was tired of being shuffled from foster home to foster home, so I took off. Later I met some people with the Rising Tide, learned a few things and went looking for information. Unfortunately at eighteen, I wasn't as smart as I am now and I got caught. AC could have had me locked up, but he didn't. He got the charges dismissed, helped me get my GED and a degree in computer sciences, and then gave me a job here. I've been here for two years now."

"And your father?" None of this was any of his business, but he couldn't deny he wanted to know more about her. "Did you ever find him?"

"Yes."

She didn't elaborate this time, and he knew she had closed the topic for the time being. He threw his own plate away and sat quietly as she adjusted her algorithm a few times. Her phone rang and she picked up, grabbing a file and giving some information to an agent on the other end. People also stopped by her desk constantly, dropping off and picking up files. As far as he could tell, she was the busiest analyst in her section of the department.

"You're level two, and that other guy is a higher level analyst," Grant said. "So how is it that you're better at his job than he is?"

"Greg is good," Skye said. "Maybe not as good as me, but he's been to the academy and he's been here longer, so he has a higher clearance."

"He couldn't answer a single question I asked," he told her. "You told me in ten minutes what he couldn't in more than double the time."

"Yeah, well, I don't think you realize how intimidating you are when you're irritated," she pointed out, swiveling her chair to face him. "He has an anxious personality type."

"You're not intimidated."

"True," she said, tilting her head and smirking. "But then I've seen a side of you I'm assuming Greg hasn't, so…"

It was the second time she'd brought up that night in a joking manner, and he suddenly realized that while she hid it well, she was more uncomfortable about the situation than she wanted him to know.

"You said this would take a few hours?" When she nodded, he grabbed a stray piece of paper from her desk and wrote his cell phone number on it. "I have some paperwork I need to do. They've given me an office upstairs in Operations, so I won't be far away. Just call me when this is done."

She took the paper and looked at him as he stood up. "I thought you said this drive didn't leave your sight."

He buttoned his jacket and said, "I trust you." And oddly enough, that was true. For one thing, he knew Coulson was a good judge of character. For that matter, so was he, and he'd had a good feeling about Skye since the night they met.

Grant took the elevator upstairs to his new office. It was more spacious than he'd been expecting, but he'd never been the type of agent who liked pushing papers. Of course he'd be participating in the domestic missions he was in charge of, and any number of flash ops could crop up unexpectedly, but he had a feeling he'd be spending more time office bound than he cared for.

Skye spent the next few hours clearing her inbox as she waited for her program to finish organizing the files she'd unlocked. As she'd suspected, many of the files were also encrypted, so she ran a separate algorithm to unlock them before salvaging what she could from the damaged files.

She fingered the bullet hole in the hard drive, wondering just how close that bullet had come to hitting Grant. Too close, probably. But he looked fine earlier, so she guessed it hadn't done any damage to anything other than the drive.

She remembered the day she had gone snooping through the specialists' files looking for information on him. Jemma had tried to talk her out of it, fearing that Skye would be caught and once again sent to Coulson's office, or worse – Commander Hill. Skye had scoffed, knowing full well she could get around SHIELD's servers without being detected.

They'd both been a little stunned to discover that the tall, dark and handsome agent Skye had spent the night with was none other than Agent Grant Ward, a level seven specialist. She didn't have to read his file to know that he'd received the highest marks in espionage since Romanoff and that he was well respected among the other specialists. She'd heard rumors of some of the high level operations he'd participated in, and his record was impressive.

It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to snoop around and see where he'd been sent off to that cold Saturday morning. Waking alone didn't surprise her; she'd known he wouldn't be there. Still, he'd stayed longer than she expected, and she hugged the memory of their night together close, only sharing it with Jemma.

She just hadn't anticipated finding him in her department, and seeing him again was a little unsettling because she knew exactly what he looked like underneath that boring black suit. She'd had a hard time concentrating on her work with him sitting only a few feet away. Every word and movement reminded her of how he had whispered things against her ear, and how he'd touched every inch of her body until she'd been awash in a sensual haze of pleasure.

Her growing discomfort probably explained her oversharing. Skye was a little embarrassed that she'd rambled about the orphanage and her father since she doubted Grant cared about her family history. Thinking about her father quickly soured her mood, and she hastened to finish up with the hard drive.

Rather than call Grant, she decided to take the drive up to the Operations department, and it didn't take long to locate Grant's new office. He'd removed his jacket, and he sat behind a desk working on a laptop. The white dress shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, contrasting with his black hair. His hair was soft; she remembered the way she'd run her fingers through it that night and then immediately tried to squash the image.

Skye didn't even have a chance to knock before he looked up, apparently sensing her presence. "Done. Figured I'd save you the trip since I need to drop something off with AC anyway." She handed over the drive. "I've indexed the files, and the damaged files are in a separate folder, but you'll be happy to know I was able to recover a lot of the information."

"Thanks." He immediately plugged in the drive and began checking the indexed files. "This is more than I expected, to be honest."

"No problem." She hooked her thumb towards the door. "I'm just gonna… go."

Grant looked up again. "Coulson said you've been helping out with time sensitive information this week."

Skye nodded. "The analyst who usually handles this kind of thing is out on medical leave. I don't have the right clearance, but I do have the skills they need so they're overlooking that for now."

"I assume you're familiar with flash ops?" When she nodded again, he continued. "If I can clear it with Coulson and your supervisor, would you be interested in helping out with those?"

She felt a little thrill of excitement. "Uh, yes. Definitely."

"Okay. I'll let you know."

Skye smiled at Grant before walking out of his office and heading down a familiar corridor. She followed protocol and knocked before immediately disregarding it and pushing the door open. "What up, AC."

Agent Phil Coulson had his sleeves rolled up as he sorted through a stack of files. He looked up and sighed. "You realize that if you knock, you should also wait for someone to tell you to come in."

"But then I wouldn't get to hear your grouchy voice," Skye told him as she sank into a chair opposite him.

"Have you finished up the hard drive for Agent Ward?" he asked, removing his glasses and stretching.

"All done. He asked if I'd be interested in helping with flash ops. Is that something they'd actually clear me to work on?"

Coulson looked surprised. "Huh. Frankly, I was expecting you two not to get along. Ward is one of our best, but he's abrasive."

"But he appreciates people who don't waste his time," she said. She hesitated before she continued. "We've also met before, about six months ago at McGillevrey's. A total asshat was bothering me and Grant stepped in. It wasn't necessary, but it was nice of him to do it."

"I see." Coulson studied her for a moment. "I'll talk to him and see what he has in mind, and I'll let you know."

Skye knew he'd have to clear it through higher channels, but she was hopeful she might get to work on some interesting missions in the coming months. "Cool. Oh, and I'm meeting Patrick, Fitz and Jemma for dinner later. Judging by your desk, I'm guessing you'll be here for a while. Want me to bring you anything?"

"You know you don't have to mother hen me, Skye."

She raised her brows, waiting. She might not have to, but after all the years Coulson had looked out for her, she was happy to return the favor any time she had the opportunity. She'd been completely alone in the world until he came along, and he was more of a father to her than the man who'd abandoned her.

"But I wouldn't mind something from that food truck you took me to last week," he said.

"You got it." Skye stood up and with a little wave she headed back to her desk.

Grant glanced at his watch as he waited for the elevator. He'd spent the last few hours getting up to speed on his new assignment, and it was half past seven now.

"And we meet again."

He looked to his right and saw Skye coming down the corridor. "You're here late."

"Just dropping off dinner for AC," she told him. "He's neck deep in something I'm not cleared to know about, so I can't help him with that, but I can bring food."

"I'm about to get dinner, too," he said as they stepped onto the elevator together. "Have you eaten?"

She nodded. "About an hour ago. I'm meeting some friends at McGillevrey's now." She paused, and he could see that she was thinking something over. "You could join us. A.J. has a decent menu. The only thing is that my boyfriend will be there, and it might be awkward."

Her boyfriend. Grant felt a twinge of regret even though he knew how ridiculous that was. It had been six months, and he'd never expected to see her again.

"I think I'll just pick something up and go home. It's been a long week for me and it's only Tuesday." He hadn't had more than three hours of sleep at a time in at least two weeks, and he was suddenly feeling the exhaustion he'd previously ignored.

They walked out together and when Skye headed for the subway, Grant placed a hand on her arm. "Do you need a ride? I have my bike."

"You drive a motorcycle?" she asked. "That doesn't really fit your suit and tie front. You specialists really are chameleons."

She followed him to the side street where he'd parked his bike, preferring not to deal with the massive parking deck of the Triskelion. It was still part of the SHIELD property though, and he nodded at the soldiers on guard duty.

He handed her the spare helmet, making sure she secured it properly before putting on his own and straddling the bike. Skye climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Grant enjoyed the ride and the feeling of her body pressed along his. They moved in sync as he wove in and out of the D.C. traffic.

They arrived at McGillevrey's twenty minutes later, and Grant pulled to a stop in front of the double oak doors. When Skye pulled the helmet off, her cheeks were pink and her eyes were shining with excitement.

He couldn't help smiling. "First time on a motorcycle?"

She handed over the helmet. "How did you know?"

"You have that look. I'll see you around, Skye." He waited for her to go inside before pulling out and covering the short distance to his apartment.

The deli next to his building was still open, so he picked up dinner and then went into the corner market for a few breakfast staples like milk, eggs, bread and coffee. He also picked up the suits he'd left at the dry cleaner's that morning. After dinner, he spent the evening getting settled back into his apartment. He washed the linens and remade his bed, and then he took a shower.

Grant clicked on the flat screen TV in his living room and settled on the couch to watch the local news. But his mind wandered; reaching for his phone, he pulled up the picture of Skye he'd taken six months before.

He'd told himself a dozen times that he was going to delete it. He'd kept the phone with him while he was with the team, but he put it away in a bus station locker while he was undercover, and he hadn't looked at the photo in a few months.

He studied the photo, his thumb hovering over the delete button. Instead he closed it out and turned his attention back to the TV, not wanting to think about why he chose to hang onto it.

Within a few days, Skye had been approved to work on certain projects and flash ops that Grant was overseeing. He found that he enjoyed working with her; she was smart, and she had a way of seeing things from a new perspective he hadn't considered. She was proving to be an asset, and it annoyed him when he had to use a different analyst for highly classified intelligence for which she hadn't been cleared.

He was now five weeks into his new job, and he had to admit it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined. It had been a long time since he'd had a routine with any semblance of normalcy – one that allowed him to train with fellow agents, grab a beer or watch a game on the big screens at McGillevrey's.

Skye should have been in the office an hour earlier, but she was late. He wanted her to encrypt a flash drive that was being used on a mission that afternoon, but if she didn't arrive soon, he'd need to take it to one of the other analysts.

"Knock, knock."

Grant looked up to see Natasha leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

"Sweet office," she continued as she walked in and took a seat. "Lovely view of the parking deck."

"Beats the view from a gulag," he said, referencing a running joke they had about the number of times they'd each seen the inside of a prison camp. "Thought you were in Europe."

"Got back yesterday," she said. Her straight, red hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was dressed casually in jeans, a green t-shirt under a black leather jacket, and boots. "Fury wants me to hang close for a couple of months."

"Any particular reason?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but who the hell knows with Fury," she said, though her tone was affectionate. "I figured I'd join in on flash ops – it'll be like a vacation."

"I'll let you know what's on the roster," he told her as his phone rang. Seeing Skye's extension, he picked up. "Hey. I was wondering when you'd get here. I have a flash I need an encryption for. Can you come up and get it or do you want me to bring it to you?"

"I'll come up," she said, sounding slightly harassed.

Grant was discussing that afternoon's mission with Natasha when Skye knocked on his open door.

"I don't want to interrupt," she said, hesitating in the doorway. The shadows under her eyes betrayed a sleepless night, and she didn't greet him with her usual cheery smile. "How soon do you need the flash?"

Frowning, he motioned for her to come in. "Are you alright?"

She gave a dismissive hand wave as she walked over to his desk. "Nothing about ten hours of sleep won't cure. And maybe some ibuprofen."

Grant pulled the flash from his desk drawer and held it out to her. When she reached for it, the sleeve of her shirt rose up and he could see dark bruises on her wrist. Grasping her hand before she could pull away, he slid her sleeve all the way up to see that the bruises extended up her forearm. Noticing the scarf she was wearing, he suddenly realized what it must be hiding.

"Who did this to you?"

Startled by the dark tone of his voice, her eyes flew to his.

He made an effort to rein in his anger, and with gentle fingers he pulled the scarf to the side, revealing the bruises at the base of her neck. He'd seen similar bruises on abuse victims, and the idea that her boyfriend might have done this to her made him feel sick. "Was it Patrick?" He didn't seem like the type, but Grant was going to beat the shit out of him if he'd hit her.

"God, no," she said, frowning and pulling away from him. "It's not a big deal, really. I had a mild disagreement with a dude who wanted my bag last night. I was at the police station for hours, and they were no help. Snatch and grabs are a dime a dozen in this town. Then I was at the bank and on the phone this morning ordering new cards."

"Where did it happen?"

"Outside Brookland."

She was playing with her scarf, readjusting it and avoiding his gaze.

Grant had warned her about that station before. Knowing that she regularly took the subway to get around the city, he'd taken to monitoring crime statistics for the city's Metro stations and passing the information along to her.

"Okay, so you might have been right about that station," she finally said, breaking the tension in the wake of Grant's stony silence. "You'll be happy to know I got one solid punch in. I even have the bruised knuckles to prove it." She smiled and threw a playful punch at his shoulder.

He wasn't amused. "Do you know what can happen when you fight a mugger, Skye? When it's someone like you, with no training?" The guy could have had a knife or a gun, or he could have pushed her into oncoming traffic. Each scenario made him angrier.

"Probably a lot of things I don't want to think about," she told him. "I just reacted, and everything you're thinking? I heard it from AC already, and I'm pretty sure my ears are still ringing. I'm actually fine. I got worse than this in the orphanage."

He sighed, suddenly noticing that Natasha was watching their exchanged with interest. "This is Skye, one of the analysts who's been helping me with the flash ops. Skye, Natasha Romanoff."

Skye's eyes widened slightly as Natasha rose and held out her hand. "Hi."

Natasha smiled at Skye's tongue-tied response. "Hi."

Grant felt a flare of amusement. Judging by her expression, Skye had a million questions she'd like to ask Natasha but was holding back in an attempt to appear professional. He doubted that would last long if they spent any time around each other.

Skye reached out and plucked the flash from Grant's hand. "Standard encryption or my special key?"

"The special. We deliberately let one go about ten days ago, and according to our mole, they're still trying to crack it without destroying the data." He was impressed by her skill level when it came to coding, and he'd learned that she had written one of the firewalls used on the SHIELD servers as well.

"Okay. I'll give you a call when it's ready. It was nice to meet you, Agent Romanoff." Skye hurried from his office, and Grant watched her until she was out of sight.

Grant picked up the phone and made some calls. He wanted all the security footage around Brookland station because if the local precinct wasn't going to follow up then he would.

Natasha spoke up when he finished his calls. "I've seen her before. Six months ago, McGillevrey's – she was sitting at the bar and you were watching her."

Grant wasn't surprised that Natasha could remember that night in that sort of detail. He could also pick the bar's customers from a lineup if necessary. It was the way specialists worked; cataloguing names, faces and places for future reference because they never knew when that information might be useful.

"We met that night," he said, "but I didn't see her again until I reported here five weeks ago."

Natasha gave him a knowing look, one that said she suspected that he and Skye had been together, but she didn't ask any further questions. They finished going over the files and Natasha left for a security meeting. Skye sent the flash drive back to him via Coulson, and Grant spent the afternoon reviewing the footage from every camera within a five block radius of Brookland.

The cameras caught the snatch and grab, and he squeezed his hands into fists as he watched the guy go for Skye's bag. When she pushed him off he got angry, grabbing her arm and throwing her back into a wall, using his forearm to apply pressure on her neck. She let go of the bag and he took off, leaving a visibly shaken Skye leaning against the wall.

Grant pushed his anger aside and followed his trail. Occasionally he lost him but was able to pick him back up heading into a local dive bar. It was a place to start.

Two days later, Skye received a phone call from the local police telling her that they needed her to come down and ID the perp who'd taken her bag. According to the detective, the guy had come in and practically begged the cops to arrest him. Since he had a list of outstanding warrants for crimes ranging from snatch and grabs to felony assaults, they'd been more than happy to oblige him.

"But why would he turn himself in if he got away with it?" Skye asked, confused. "I never really thought you'd catch him."

"Now, keep in mind he was high as a kite when he came in," the detective replied, taking her statement. "He says an assassin in black broke into his apartment and told him to. Of course, then he started rambling about Batman – must have been some damn cocktail he was on. Whatever he saw or thinks he saw, it scared the hell out of him."

Skye pondered this as she took a cab back to the office. The story sounded crazy – unless you happened to work with a bunch of SHIELD agents. It could have been Coulson, but her money was on Grant simply because he hadn't brought it up again.

When she arrived back at the Triskelion, she took the elevator up to Operations and went directly to Grant's office. Closing the door behind her, she turned to face him. "I can't believe you did that for me."

He stood up and walked around his desk, leaning against it and crossing his arms. "Did what exactly?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. That punk who took my bag showed up at the local precinct scared shitless and asking to be arrested. His story? An assassin broke into his apartment and told him to turn himself in or else."

Grant's brows rose. "Sounds like he's on something."

"That's a given, but I think a certain specialist decided to handle it since the police weren't doing anything about it." When he remained silent, Skye walked to stand in front of him. "Admit it – you're my knight in shining black Kevlar."

"The guy has a record as long as my arm," Grant finally said. "He needs to be off the streets."

Skye nodded and then hugged him. "Thank you," she said softly before pulling back. "I owe you one."

Grant reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear, his fingers skimming the bruises at the base of her neck. "How about you stay away from the dangerous stations and we call it even?"

She suppressed a shiver as his fingers brushed her skin. "How about I buy you lunch as a thank you?"

He smiled at her. "Okay."

In the elevator, Skye looked at him and asked, "Were you wearing tactical gear or something? He was rambling about Batman when he came in. The detectives were highly amused, let me tell you."

"I was wearing black, but it wasn't tactical gear," he said. "It looked like he was reading comic books when he fell asleep – thought I was from the League of Assassins, so I went with it."

Skye laughed, though she imagined waking to see Grant looming over him probably had been pretty damn scary. She glanced sideways at him. He was a specialist, highly trained, and he probably knew intimidation tactics the average person never even dreamed of. And he'd put his considerable skills to use tracking down a snatch and grab perp.

Aside from Coulson, no one had ever gone out of their way like that for her, and a warm little ball of fluffy feelings settled into the pit of her stomach. They couldn't push rewind and go back six months, and Skye wouldn't change a second of that night even if she could. And there was no such thing as picking up where they'd left off – they worked together now, and even though her relationship with Patrick wasn't all that serious yet, they were exclusive.

They couldn't push rewind, but they were moving forward into new territory. For now, that was enough.

A/N: Okay, hope you enjoyed Part 2! You will meet Patrick in part 3, Jemma and Fitz make an appearance, and we'll return to McGillevrey's and check in with A.J. (bartenders notice A LOT.) I've been sick, so this part has had minimal editing. Let me know if you see anything weird. (Seriously guys – I poured mineral water into my washing machine yesterday instead of detergent – these flu meds make me feel kind of out of it lol.) Thanks for reading! If I haven't replied to your review from Part 1 yet, rest assured I'm slowly catching up :)