Love is a fragile little flame Chapter 3

A/N: To be on the safe side, there's a mild violence warning that goes along with this chapter. I say mild because I tried to be descriptive without being too graphic, and I don't think it's near as bad as what's been on the show, but anyway, be aware. It's tagged as such on AO3 but FF doesn't allow tags, hence the note.

Skye was relieved to find everyone was willing to ignore the scene between her and Quartermain after she and Grant returned to the table. Alanna and Henna had cleared away the main dishes and replaced them with the desserts, and Jenny and her dad brought in the coffee.

Skye's apple pie was the first to be served.

"This was grandmother Daisy's recipe," Alanna told Coulson as she passed him a plate. "Skye did a fabulous job with it."

"The crust is a little weird looking," Skye pointed out. Her lattice top had melded together to make an odd pattern in a few spots.

"It tastes good," Quartermain said. "Just how I remember."

It was the first time he'd spoken since their blowup in the kitchen. Skye could almost hear everyone holding their breath, but she was determined to show she could move past it if he could. "Thanks."

After dessert and coffee they had the official tree lighting, and Skye was dragged into several family photos. She was surprised to find herself regaining her original excitement over this first family holiday, and while she and Quartermain were careful to avoid each other, she still thought the evening was a success.

Skye had agreed to stay another night with Alanna since she'd promised to go shopping with them the following day, so at the end of the evening she walked her friends out.

"Thanks for coming you guys," Skye told them as she stood at the gate. "You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"We were happy to be here," Jemma assured her, giving her a hug. "I'll see you on Saturday." At Fitz's questioning glance, she added, "We're having drinks with Natasha."

"Romanoff?" Fitz asked incredulously. "Can I come?"

"Sorry Fitz, it's ladies night only," Jemma told him.

"That seems very gender biased," Fitz complained.

Skye smiled as they continued to argue playfully on the way to the car.

"Have fun tomorrow," Coulson said. "And about Saturday, don't let Romanoff get you into too much trouble."

"Yes, Dad," she replied, grinning when he shook his head and followed Fitz and Jemma, which left her alone with Grant. She looked up at him and reached for his hand, linking their fingers together. "Thank you for coming. I know this kind of thing isn't really your deal."

"No," he agreed. "But I'm glad I came."

Skye hesitated, wondering if she was making a mistake. Screw it, she thought. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "See you on Monday?"

He reached out and pushed her hair back. "Yeah."

Skye stood and watched until the car pulled away. When she turned around, she was startled to see Quartermain standing on the path that led around to the back of the house.

"Sorry. I was just leaving but I didn't want to interrupt," he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Skye recognized that he was uncomfortable. So was she. "It's fine." She headed for the front door but paused, hand on the doorknob, when he spoke.

"I know that you hate me. I guess I don't blame you. I can't go back and undo the past and even if I could, I can't tell you that I would do things any differently. I had one objective back then, and it was keeping you alive. That's it. I still think I made the best call."

Skye braced herself before turning around slowly to face him. "You came to the orphanage for Christmas when I was five. I don't remember you, but Alanna showed me some photos she found. I remember the bear. Did you get him for me?"

Quartermain nodded. "Father Thomas said it was the only thing you'd been asking for, for months. I was glad I was able to find it because it made you really happy."

Skye could feel the tears threatening again, and she took a shaky breath. "But you still left me there that day. Again." She'd been too young at the time to really understand abandonment, but it was a hard lesson she'd repeatedly learned in the years to come.

Quartermain looked like he was struggling. Finally, he said, "Leaving you there – the first time, and that day – they were two of the worst days of my life, but I accepted it. It doesn't mean that I'm not sorry."

"Did you love her? My mother, I mean." Skye wrapped her arms around herself.

"Yes." Quartermain ended the conversation by turning and walking away.

Skye wiped her hands across her cheeks before going back inside to find Alanna waiting for her in the entry way.

"I was coming to look for you but I saw you and Clay talking," Alanna said hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

Skye nodded. "He thinks I hate him but I don't. It would be easier if I did."

"Oh, honey." Alanna hugged her close for a minute. "It will get better. I promise."

Jemma was practically bouncing with excitement as she and Skye got ready to meet Natasha. "What do you think we should talk about? What exactly does one talk about with a deadly assassin?"

"Former," Skye pointed out. "Or, mostly former, I guess."

She wasn't naïve. She knew from her work with the Rising Tide that SHIELD had some shady skeletons hidden in its closets. She thought she understood a little more about the greater good argument, especially since the Battle of New York, and she didn't think that agents went around killing people indiscriminately. But facts were facts, and she knew some high level targets had been taken out in the past when they were deemed a serious threat to the general public, either stateside or abroad. Unlike the CIA, SHIELD didn't recognize borders and she knew very few people in the U.S. government were even privy to the details of their operations.

It was hard to imagine that side of the people she'd met. Grant, for example, was one of the best snipers in SHIELD. He must have used those skills on missions before. But other than the mission at SynesTek, she'd never seen him engage in combat. The same was true of Trip, and now Natasha. Even Ricky seemed far too good natured to be the cold blooded agent he had to be in the field.

She wondered now if that was the real reason they all remained single. They saw the world through mission-tinted glasses and probably assessed threats everywhere they went. Everyone they met had to be regarded with suspicion because that's how the world of espionage worked. They had each other, but that presented issues since they had learned to expect long term isolation when they went deep cover. They could work as a team, but their very nature and the training they'd had meant they often worked best alone.

Skye was still thinking about this when they met Natasha at the first bar, an upscale martini lounge in the heart of the city. Natasha had already claimed a table, and she stood up to greet them when they joined her.

Jemma was subdued in the beginning, much to Skye's amusement, and she sat tongue tied as Skye and Natasha chatted about the weekend.

"Trip wasn't with us this weekend, but Mathis is pretty good in the kitchen," Natasha said. "It was fun. Trip mentioned before that you usually do Thanksgiving with Coulson and May."

"Yeah," Skye answered, sipping her drink. "I'm an orphan, so…"

"You never found your birth family?" she asked.

Skye turned her glass around, watching the lights play against the glass. "I did. It's complicated. What about you? No family?"

"No. SHIELD is the family I never had. Trip still sees his family on a regular basis. The rest of us tend to gravitate towards one another when we have down time."

It was something Skye had definitely noticed, and she wondered if any of them had been involved before, besides Grant and Ali.

Jemma had obviously been wondering the same thing because at the second bar, and with a few drinks in her, she was brave enough to venture into the conversation. "You know, at the academy they talked about specialists and their relationships. I always wondered how that worked – balancing undercover work with real life."

Natasha looked amused. "You mean that crack about if you want to be single, become a specialist?" She laughed. "They're not wrong."

"But don't you get lonely?" Jemma asked. "I do. I work so much that I'd probably have to date Fitz in order to make a go of it."

"You can't miss what you've never had," Natasha pointed out. "I had a unique upbringing – no positive role models to speak of, so it's never something I thought much about."

Skye was hung up on Jemma's mention of Fitz. "Wait, are you saying you've thought about dating Fitz?"

Jemma blushed. "Perhaps a few times. I worry it could be a disaster – imagine seeing your ex-boyfriend in the office every day. We can't all be as adult as you and Patrick."

"Because Patrick and I weren't serious. That was the whole point when we started seeing each other," Skye said.

"That's what a lot of the specialists stick with – friends with benefits. In Ricky's case, it's more like acquaintances with benefits. He's got quite the little black book," Natasha said with a grin. "Hell, I've thought about tapping that myself. His honeypot missions are fucking legendary."

"I guess it worked with Grant and Ali," Skye snarked, then wished she could snatch the words back. The last thing she wanted to sound like was a jealous shrew. What Grant and Ali did was their business.

Natasha raised a knowing brow. "True. Not recently, though. Ward's been a little busy in the last six months. Speaking of which, I heard he spent Thanksgiving with you."

Skye nibbled her lip. She didn't think she was imagining the double meaning there.

They moved on to safer topics, and Skye convinced Jemma to dance with her as Natasha chatted up two guys at a neighboring table. When they returned, she saw a napkin with a number written on it.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm single. I never said I was a nun."

Jemma nodded off in the back of the taxi, and Natasha and Skye helped her inside, where she went straight for Skye's bed.

"Thanks for tonight," Skye said. "I really needed a night to unwind. It was fun."

"We'll do it again," Natasha told her. Nodding towards a bottle of whiskey on Skye's bar, she said, "One more?" She grabbed two glasses from the overhead cabinets and poured the amber liquid, handing one to Skye before joining her on the sofa.

Skye sipped it and looked around. "I need to do something about Christmas decorations. I was so busy helping my aunt decorate that I never got around to doing any of my own."

"You said you were an orphan. I guess this is the complicated part?"

"My mother's dead. I found my father a few years ago, but… it wasn't exactly a Hallmark reunion. This year I met my aunt – his sister – and her family. They're trying but yeah, it's weird."

"I never had parents either," Natasha said, shrugging. "I grew up in a KGB training center. They conditioned their agents from a young age. I don't even remember anything else."

"I thought the KGB fell in the eighties," Skye said, her gut twisting in sympathy.

"Early nineties," Natasha corrected her. "They called it the Black Widow program. It was orphaned when the KGB fell, but the center had enough funds to continue what they were doing for a while, and then they were absorbed into the FSB. I was working for them in counterespionage when I was recruited by SHIELD. I had so much blood on my hands at that point that they probably should have killed me. Instead they gave me a chance to be someone else."

"Coulson gave me that chance, too," Skye told her. "You know I was a hacktivist with Rising Tide. Coulson could have arrested me for hacking into SHIELD's servers, but instead he took a chance on me. I owe him everything."

"SHIELD's not perfect. It's a big bureaucracy in some ways, but we take care of our own." Natasha placed her glass on the table and looked over at Skye. "I'm the last person you should take relationship advice from since I've never made one work. And I get it – why you're holding back. Ward has his own demons, and he's a tough nut to crack. But with you? He's someone else. I think it's worth exploring."

After she left, Skye sat on the sofa sipping the last of her drink as she thought about what Natasha said. All of the specialists had their demons, and Grant was no different. Other than Trip, the most well-adjusted of the group, none of them seemed to be close to their families. She supposed Quartermain was another exception, but he'd never married or had any other children that she knew about.

She decided to leave it for another day and went to her bedroom to find Jemma sprawled sideways across the bed. Shaking her head, Skye changed into her pajamas, grabbed Mr. Kutterman and two blankets, and went to sleep on the couch.

Skye welcomed the exhausting workout routine that May put her through early on Monday morning, working up a sweat on the treadmill before doing some reps with weights. They finished with a sparring session.

May threw her a towel when they stopped. "Good work today."

"Thanks," Skye said, proud of how far she'd come in a few short months. She sat on a bench against the wall, sipping her water as she considered May.

"Something on your mind?" May asked, raising a brow.

"I have a question, but it's kind of personal," Skye confessed.

May stared at her for a moment. "The cafeteria has omelets today. Meet me back here in fifteen." She zipped up her bag and headed for the showers.

The cafeteria was already filling up when they went through the line, and they chose a quiet table in the corner by the window.

"Is this about Quartermain?" May asked.

Skye shook her head. "No. Well, kind of. In a roundabout way, I guess." She took a bite of her omelet as she thought about what she wanted to say. "Jemma said there was a joke about specialists at the academy. That if you wanted to be terminally single, become a specialist. But I know Bobbi was married, and you were married. Trip still sees his family, but for the most part, they seem to be loners. I guess I wondered if it's always like that."

"Truth?" When Skye nodded, May said, "Yes. Most of the time it's always like that."

"Why? Is it just because of the missions, or all the time they spend away?" Skye asked. "Because you're here full time, and I know AC's not a specialist, but he's been alone for a while now, too. Ever since Audrey died, he hasn't been the same." Skye had only met his fiancée, Audrey Nathan, a handful of times before she died in a car accident while out of town for a concert.

"Bobbi was married to a mercenary," May explained. "That was doomed before it started because SHIELD always comes first. My husband Andrew wasn't SHIELD, but he did consult for the agency on a regular basis. He's a doctor – a psychiatrist."

"So he knew what you do, which is more than Audrey knew," Skye said. "But it still didn't work?"

"Every specialist is trained to compartmentalize everything, whether it's personal or mission related. When I couldn't do that anymore, we had a problem."

Bahrain. Skye knew that May quit field work after that mission, but it wasn't something the older woman had ever discussed with anyone. Coulson was tight lipped about it, but Skye had long suspected even he didn't know exactly what went down and why it affected May the way it did.

"When you work for SHIELD, the easiest way to maintain a relationship is to choose someone who understands what's at stake," May continued. "Specialists are different. They're too much alike to make it work with one another long term, but they're too different from the average field agent to make that work either."

"Yeah, I figured," Skye said quietly, pushing her omelet around on her plate before taking another bite.

"You and Ward are different."

Skye looked up, surprised. "What?"

"I have eyes, Skye. I can see that something's going on there."

What the hell – she might as well tell her. "I met him a year ago and we had a one night stand. He was gone the next morning when I woke up, and I didn't see him again until he showed up in my department with that hard drive. Since then we've kept things professional."

May raised her brows.

"Mostly professional," Skye amended. "But I'm not naïve. I know it would have been better if I could have felt this way about Patrick. And I think about… I've had so many temporary people in my life. I don't need another temporary relationship. Another person who's going to walk when things get too real or too difficult. I need someone who's going to stay."

"You're afraid to be too emotionally dependent on someone you think might leave," May said.

"Yes," Skye replied. "But it's not just that. I've developed a support system in AC, you, Jemma and Fitz. For the last six months, Grant has been part of that support system. But what happens when he goes undercover again? He won't always be here running flash missions."

"No, probably not."

Skye picked up her napkin and began folding it, smoothing the creases with her fingertips as she thought about how to verbalize her concerns. "I'm not afraid of him being away. I know I can function on my own, and I understand the mission. I could support him in that. But I don't want to be something that has to be compartmentalized, I guess. I want more. Sometimes I think if that's not possible, maybe it's better if we don't even go there again."

That was the crux of the issue. Her own father had compartmentalized her into a mission, and it led to a moment where he'd abandoned her. He'd walked away to keep her safe, but the idea of being compartmentalized like that again scared her.

"Life is risk," May said bluntly. "If it's something that you want badly enough, there's a point where you have to decide if the risk is worth the potential reward. It's true of field work and personal relationships. Looking back, there are things I wish I'd handled differently, but what's done is done."

Skye was surprised that May admitted to having regrets. If possible, she was even more of a closed book than Grant. "Maybe both of us should take stock and re-evaluate our priorities."

May nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe."

The following weekend, Skye conscripted Grant into a tree shopping excursion. She had invited her aunt and cousins over to her apartment for help decorating her own tree, but first she needed to buy one and get it into her apartment.

After hitting three different lots, she found a tree that was both the perfect size and shape, and Grant carried it back to her apartment and set it up in the corner for her.

"It looks good," he said.

"Do you put up a tree?" Skye asked as she started digging around in the ornament boxes she'd carried up from her storage closet.

"No."

She looked up. "Not even when you're here?"

"This is the first holiday season I've spent in Washington in a few years," Grant reminded her.

"Yeah I know, but you should do something for the holidays. If you don't have the space, we can pick out a small tree." She'd never been to Grant's apartment, though she knew the neighborhood where he lived, and the apartments were generally bigger than hers. She doubted space was the issue.

"I don't really need a tree, Skye," he said patiently as he helped her untangle a string of lights.

"Well no one needs a tree. But it's festive, and pretty, and a cheerful reminder of peace on earth, good will towards men."

"Christmas trees have nothing to do with the religious part of Christmas."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Scrooge. I'm still helping you pick out a tree next week."

A knock on her door cut off Grant's reply. When she opened it, Alanna was there with Henna and Jenny.

"Hey, come in," Skye said, stepping aside.

Alanna greeted Grant. "It's nice to see you again. Are you helping us with decorations?"

Grant shook his head. "I helped Skye get the tree upstairs, so I'll leave you to it." He grabbed his coat and smiled at Skye. "See you on Monday."

Skye was still smiling when she returned from seeing him out.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two?" Henna asked, her tone teasing. "And if that's true, I'd be working on changing that immediately if I were you."

Skye couldn't help laughing at her cousin.

"I have to agree with Henna," Alanna said. "He looks at you the same way David used to look at me when we started dating."

Everyone kept saying the same thing – that they could see something between her and Grant. Could he really be blind to it, or was he ignoring it because he thought acting on it would be a mistake? She suspected the latter, and spending so much time with him wasn't helping her to figure out the best way to handle it.

"Like I said, we're just friends," Skye said.

Alanna shot her a knowing look, but she dropped it as they turned their attention to tree decorating.

True to her promise, Skye dragged Grant out to buy a tree for his apartment the following week. He grumbled about it but went along with her plan. When he gave her the keys to unlock the door, she looked around with interest.

The room she entered was an open concept floor plan, and it had the basics – a sofa, a chair, a table, and a flat screen TV were in the living room, which opened into a medium sized kitchen. The island had two chairs and since the small breakfast nook lacked a table, she figured he ate there or in the living room.

A hallway off the kitchen probably led to his bedroom. She was curious but self-aware enough to realize that his bedroom should be off limits if they were trying to avoid complications.

Skye directed Grant in setting up the small tree in the breakfast nook located between the living room and kitchen. It filled up the bare space nicely.

"There," she said, satisfied. "Now we can order lunch and put up the decorations I brought with me."

A couple of hours later they were finished.

"It looks nice," Grant admitted. "I still don't need a tree, but you're right. It's festive."

"I like trees, and Jemma, Fitz and I like driving around in the suburbs to look at the Christmas lights," Skye told him. "We're doing that the weekend after next if you want to come with us."

Grant didn't say anything.

"Or not," she said.

"Elizabeth called to wish me a happy Thanksgiving, and I told her that I'm stationed in Washington right now," Grant said. "She's asked me to come up that weekend. It's just dinner, but Thomas would be there, and she wants me to meet her fiancé."

Skye could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "You should go."

"I'm thinking about it."

She sighed. "Yeah, if you think too much, you won't do it. I should know because I talked myself out of meeting Alanna and my cousins a hundred times before Thanksgiving."

"We have a lot of missions being prepped."

"Most of which are a go for this weekend and the rest are on hold pending intel."

"Some of which might be a go after intel reported at the meeting tomorrow," he countered.

"Speaking of that meeting, I have some intel to report about Castillo. I was going to wait until tomorrow but since we're here and the topic came up…" she trailed off, grinning when he crossed his arms.

"Skye."

"You're no fun." Skye sat back against the sofa. "What would you say if I told you there's a connection between Dr. Synes and Castillo?"

He stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. Remember how surprised we were that SynesTek was throwing their hat into the weapons ring? And Castillo has always been a petty drug lord – until now. I've been chasing down leads on the dark web for a while, wondering who their contacts were for these weapons, and it occurred to me that the contact might also be funding Castillo's lab."

"You've been running those Tor searches since the Synes mission. Why is it only coming up now?" he asked.

"Because their contact isn't on Tor, which makes sense because Tor is the Google of the dark web – too well known. They've been using a new site called Hornet, and it's hella difficult to track anything there because there are fewer users, less chatter, and no one has developed a Hornet-based search engine. Until now." She tried not to sound too smug, but she was pretty proud of the work she'd done on this project.

"You developed a new search engine."

She nodded. "I'm still working out the kinks, but I'm monitoring one site that I'm sure provided some of the alien tech that both Synes and Castillo were using. But that's not even the most interesting part. I think there's one point of contact for both men, someone they met on Hornet, and I think they're both receiving funding from this contact."

Grant listened carefully as Skye outlined the rest. "I was reviewing financial records we got from SynesTek and noticed some similarities to financials we got from Castillo's hard drives. They both received money transfers from a company called Q-Global. That's a shell company that traced back to I-Tech, yet another shell company. I don't know who's behind those companies yet, but what was interesting is that when I followed the money trail, I found regular purchases from this black site I'm monitoring. It can't be a coincidence."

The smile that broke out across Grant's face made her feel giddy. "Skye, that's great work. We all knew that you were the best person for this job, but you're exceeding expectations by a mile here. Realistically, I thought it would be months before we had anything concrete on either Synes or Castillo."

"I mean, it's still not concrete exactly. Hornet is hard to navigate, and I'm not sure how long it will take to follow the circular trail on these shell companies."

"Rough estimate?"

She nibbled her lip as she thought about it. "If it's only me running down the data, a month? Maybe longer. If I can get some help, that would free me up to start trying to crack this site's firewalls and see if I can track the IP addresses of unique users to the site. That might turn up the contact faster than chasing the shell companies."

Grant stood and held out his hand to pull her up. "I'm sure Hand will approve whatever you need. And dinner's on me tonight. You've definitely earned it."

Grant was right about Hand. She and Hill listened carefully the next morning as Skye briefed them on what she'd found out.

"That's excellent work, Skye," Hill said with a smile. Looking over at Hand, she added, "I think we can approve anything she needs here."

"Do you know who you'd like to have on your team?" Hand asked.

Her team. It would be her first time as a team leader. Careful to contain her excitement, she nodded. "I've got two in mind."

"Then talk to Daewoo and get it done this morning so you can start after lunch."

When Hand stood up, Skye thought they were done. She was surprised when Hand added, "Good work."

It was slightly grudging, but she'd take it. Skye nodded her acknowledgement.

Downstairs, she approached Greg first. "Hey. Got a minute?"

Greg nodded and tapped a few keys before turning towards her. He'd been out of sorts since her promotion, and she understood. She knew it must be difficult to feel like you were being replaced.

"How would you feel about joining my team to look for a connection between SynesTek and Castillo?" she asked, jumping straight to the point.

His interest was immediate. "You found a connection?"

"I did, but the third party is good at hiding. They're using Hornet."

Greg's face fell. "I don't know much about Hornet."

"I can handle Hornet. I want you to go through the financials and track everything from both Synes and Castillo. There's a shell company that sent money to both, and I want you to see what you can turn up there, too. It's a lot of data. How do you feel about working with Freemont?"

"We've worked well together before." He was starting to look excited. "When do we start?"

"After lunch. I've booked a small conference room, and that will be our temporary office for the foreseeable future. I'm going to talk to Freemont and Mrs. Daewoo now."

"Okay." Before she turned away, he called out. "Hey Skye? Thanks. I appreciate this."

"I think we'll make a good team," she told him. "And don't thank me yet because we're going to be pulling a lot of late nights."

Skye realized how right she was about the late nights a week later. She, Greg and Freemont had worked all weekend and stayed in the office until at least ten, sometimes later, over the following week. She'd cut her daily training sessions down to twice a week, and she'd given up her long lunches in order to accommodate all her projects and mission prep.

She was getting closer. Whoever was running the site on Hornet was a pro, but she was sure she'd find a way in soon.

Soon turned out to be Friday evening. Once she was in, she started sorting through the IP addresses. When she tracked one to Austin, she felt a sense of foreboding. Working all night yielded results; by Saturday morning, she was staring at a list of offenses as long as her arm. And she could trace them all back to Miles Lydon.

Miles had left Rising Tide behind to work for Quinn Worldwide, and it looked like he'd left his thirst for truth and justice behind along with it. Miles was her point of contact, but there was no way he had the money to fund Castillo's lab. Grabbing the printouts that Greg and Freemont had left for her before heading home the previous evening, she went through the list of shell companies: Q Global, I Tech, I.Q.W. The list went on, and the sheer hubris of his naming conventions was staggering. Maybe she couldn't prove it on paper yet, but Ian Quinn was in this up to his thousand dollar neckties.

"Skye?"

She looked up to see Coulson in the doorway, looking at her with concern. "Were you here all night?"

She glanced at her watch to see that it was just after nine. "Yeah. What are you doing here on a Saturday morning?"

"Mostly checking on you. You weren't answering your phone." His tone was admonishing. "When did you last eat?"

Skye yawned and rubbed her eyes as she thought about it. "Grant dropped off dinner around six last night before his flight to Boston. I found something though. I need to call a meeting because I think I know who's funding Castillo and turning SynesTek towards alien weaponry."

"Hand and Hill are both coming in for a briefing around noon. It can wait until you've eaten and had a couple of hours rest." When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, "No arguments."

She grumbled a little but relented since Freemont and Greg weren't due back in until noon, either. "Fine."

Food, a nap on the sofa in Coulson's office, and a large coffee had her feeling much more alert by the time she was sitting around a table with Coulson, Greg, Freemont, Hand, Hill, Natasha, Trip and Quartermain. She guessed she shouldn't be surprised to see her father there, but she was. She wondered if he'd asked to be on call because Grant was out of town.

Skye was brief as she outlined what she'd found, and she passed around copies of the intel connecting the black site to Miles and Miles to Quinn.

"I agree that this isn't a coincidence," Hill said. "The names of the shell companies all but confirm it. Quinn was always a smug bastard."

"You know him?" Skye asked.

"This isn't the first time he's landed on our radar," Hand answered. "He's taken a lot of his business overseas in order to avoid monitoring by intelligence agencies."

"Well he's in D.C. now, and he's hosting a party that starts this afternoon with a champagne brunch and ends with a five course dinner this evening," Skye told them. "It's at his estate in Fairfax County."

"What do you know about Lydon?" Coulson asked her.

"We dated," she admitted. "But after I made the decision to cut off contact with Rising Tide, I never saw him or talked to him again."

"And you're sure he's in Austin?" Hill asked.

"Yes. That's where he's from. He seems to do a lot of work for Quinn remotely, but I've tracked him to Malta a few times."

"Which is where Quinn has moved much of his operation. I heard he's applied for citizenship there," Coulson said. "We could pick Lydon up, but we don't have enough to link him to Quinn yet. And we know from past experience that if we pick Quinn up, he'll be out of custody and aboard his private jet in an hour, tops."

"Quinn probably carries portable servers with him. I'm sure his main servers are in Malta where they can't be monitored, but there's no way a tech giant like Quinn doesn't keep backups of certain information close at hand, and he's too smart to store it on a cloud that could be hacked." Skye tapped a few keys on her computer and projected a holograph layout of Quinn's estate. "I'm not getting any kind of Wi-Fi signal out of this place, and the party invitation stated that guests would relinquish their tablets and phones at the door. There's a private network linked via satellite, but his servers and security aren't connected to it."

"We need to get someone inside his party," Hand said. "If he has portable servers, that information could be invaluable. We have the technology to clone phones and hard drives. Can that be modified for a portable server?"

"It already has been," Skye said. "It's something Stark has been working on. Depending on the size and the number, cloning shouldn't take more than ten to fifteen minutes."

"Judging by past functions at his estate, the guest list and the perimeter will be locked down tighter than the Fridge," Coulson told Hand. "I'm not sure it's something we can crack in a few hours."

"We don't have to," Skye told him. She held up her phone. "It looks like my e-vite just came through."

"How did you manage that?" Hill asked.

"I hacked his satellite and found one mobile device linked to it. I assumed it was his, I engaged his curiosity, and he wants to meet me."

Quartermain had remained a silent observer but chose that moment to speak up. "You're not cleared for field work."

"It's a party. I can bring a guest, and they can slip away while I'm talking to him. I'm not suggesting that I channel my inner Bond or anything." Skye tried to keep the irritation from her tone since maintaining her professional demeanor was important to her.

"I can go in with her," Natasha said. "We have the floor plans here. We should be able to narrow down the likeliest places to keep computers or portable servers since he wouldn't keep them near the guests. A well timed perimeter breach would distract his security teams, allowing me to clone the servers. Skye can leave as soon as I'm in."

"It's a bad idea," Quartermain said evenly.

Hill looked over at him. "Do you have a better one?" When he remained silent, she continued. "Skye, you'll be wearing a silent tracker. It won't be picked up by security scans because it only turns on when activated manually. If you think you're in trouble, Romanoff can come get you. But you should be the first one out. That means you follow the protocol to the letter from start to finish no matter what happens. Understood?"

"Understood." Skye felt some of the same excitement she'd felt about the SynesTek mission. "My biggest problem right now is getting rid of these dark circles and finding something to wear."

Natasha smiled. "We have that covered."

One trip to a high end salon and two hours later, Skye turned sideways to look at her dress in the mirror. "I can't believe SHIELD owns a spa and Coulson didn't tell me." The entire place was staffed by SHIELD personnel and the ladies had whisked Skye away for hair, makeup and a manicure, all done in record time before they'd given her three dresses to try on. She'd chosen a long sleeved knit dress in winter white. The hem was modest, but the daring décolletage made up for that.

Natasha joined her in front of the mirror. Wearing a black wig and a wrap dress in a deep shade of port, she looked completely different. "If Quinn asks, and I'm sure he will, I'm your girlfriend Tasha."

That was unexpected. She glanced sideways at Natasha. "He thinks my name is Daisy. Why girlfriend?"

"Because men are simple creatures, and that is a cover that almost always flies under their radar. Bring a boyfriend, two things happen – they get territorial, suspicious, or both. Bring a girlfriend, they're imagining taking us both to bed." Natasha turned to her and pulled Skye closer, meeting her gaze. "Relax. We'll hold hands, maybe dance, exchange a few whispers. Attraction is simple, too. You just have to know how to use it."

Skye swallowed hard. She felt slightly weak-kneed, and even she could tell she was only getting a small taste of Natasha's seduction skills. She pitied any man – or woman – who found themselves the target of her full on offensive.

Quinn's 14,000 square foot estate was inspired by the Chateau de Chambord in France. While only a couple of stoplights from D.C. and less than thirty minutes' walk from the Potomac, it was settled on two plus acres and surrounded by National Forest, creating the illusion that you were in the countryside.

Trip had set up his team just outside the property line, hidden away in the forest. Quartermain was acting as their driver, and the first security checkpoint was at the entrance to Quinn's winding, private drive. Skye scanned her e-vite and they drove on until they reached the circular drive in front of the large, stone dwelling. The fading, winter sunlight reflected against the sparkling windowpanes, and the sconces were already lit in preparation for evening.

Natasha looked at Skye. "Remember, once I leave you, you should try to keep him engaged for ten minutes before excusing yourself to find me. Be casual – he might be watching you. Get a glass of wine, have some hor d'oeuvres, chat with other guests. There's a glass atrium in the back, a pool, a gourmet outdoor kitchen, and a wine grotto – chances are they'll be heated and open to guests, so that's a good way to exit before heading around to the car. We're running on old school radio signals that shouldn't be picked up by Quinn's security team. If you even think you're in trouble, turn on your tracker."

Skye nodded as nerves began to settle in. "I'm ready."

Quartermain helped her out. "Be careful."

At the door, Skye scanned her e-vite again before relinquishing her phone and entering the formal, two-story foyer. Arms linked, she and Natasha made their way into the large, formal living room. A fire crackled cheerily to her left, and a waiter materialized with offers of wine almost immediately.

Skye sipped her glass of red. "Wow, this is the good stuff." While she didn't know much about wine, she could tell it was far better than the ten dollar bottles she occasionally picked up on weekends.

"It's a Richebourg," Natasha said. "Fifteen grand a bottle. He's showing off for someone here."

She tried not to choke on the sip of wine she'd just taken. "Are you kidding me?"

Natasha laughed and slipped her arm around Skye's waist. Leaning down, she whispered, "Quinn is at your three o'clock, and we've got his attention."

Skye took another sip of wine before casually perusing the guests. When she met Quinn's eyes, she returned his smile before allowing Natasha to lead her to the other side of the room. They completed a slow circuit of the downstairs rooms, all of which were open. As Natasha had guessed earlier, the heated outdoor areas were also open to guests. More sconces lit the way as dusk settled, and chefs were busy preparing finger foods in the outdoor kitchen.

They were circling back to the living room when they crossed paths with Quinn.

His smile was quick and charming as he held out a hand to Skye. "Ian Quinn. I don't believe we've met."

"Daisy," she answered.

"Ah, I thought as much. You know, you're the first person who's ever hacked my satellite. I've been looking forward to talking to you all afternoon. I'm afraid you missed the brunch though, and the late supper is scheduled for eight."

"We can wait." Skye selected an appetizer from the tray of a passing waiter. Remembering what Natasha said, she took a delicate bite before raising it to Natasha's lips. Her friend's green eyes sparkled with amusement as her lips wrapped around the morsel of food, tongue flicking over her fingertips, before she brushed her lips against Skye's.

From the corner of her eye, she could tell that Quinn was captivated by their little scene. He cleared his throat and asked, "And who is your guest?"

Skye looked back at him. "My girlfriend, Tasha."

Natasha allowed him to take her hand. "French architecture, French wine – this is the kind of party I like."

"And it's the kind of party you can get used to if Daisy and I can come to an agreement tonight," he told her. "I have a feeling Malta would suit you both."

As Skye suspected, he was courting her hacking skills. Natasha feigned boredom with the topic extremely well, and Quinn barely blinked when she wandered away in search of more of the Richebourg.

Conscious of the time and the need to keep his attention, Skye dropped hints to some of her former activities and claimed credit for a few subversive actions against SHIELD and the CIA. "The info dump on the Chitauri invasion was one of mine."

"You sound like you have as much distaste for government agencies as I do."

Skye fell back into her anti-government rhetoric. "They're liars, hiding the truth of dangers to the public."

"You're not wrong. How do you feel about working for a large company like mine?"

Skye shrugged. "It depends on how interesting the work is. I hacked your satellite mostly because I was bored."

Quinn laughed. "Well, I'll try very hard not to bore you." A man across the room signaled to him. "Daisy, I've seated you and Tasha with me for dinner, but I do have a few other guests to speak with before then."

"I look forward to it," Skye replied.

Per Natasha's instructions, she talked to some of the other guests before walking outside. She placed a few appetizers on a small plate, snagged a glass of wine and sat at one of the tables. She'd clocked a member of Quinn's security detail following her inside the house, but they apparently weren't concerned about her presence outside because he was gone now.

Leaving her plate and glass on the table, she walked around the pool and through the glass atrium that housed an orangery. She took her time, mingling with a few other guests who were investigating the grounds, and emerged on the other side to find it was a little less well-lit than the rest of the property. The wine grotto was the last building she passed on the walkway that led back to the front of the house, and most of the guests had congregated closer to the outdoor heaters that surrounded the outdoor kitchen.

Skye was passing the open door to the grotto when she heard voices, one of which sounded familiar. She slowed, trying to place the person talking. She hesitated a few moments more and then stepped cautiously into the doorway of the grotto, slipped off her heels and tiptoed down the few steps before peeking around the corner.

She was stunned to see Anderson standing with Agent Sitwell, who was talking to Quinn. The words were muffled, but she didn't have to hear the conversation to know that there was no good reason for either man to be there. They weren't part of this mission, nor were they privy to the details of the SynesTek and Castillo missions. Castillo had fallen under Hand, and Sitwell often worked closely with her, but Hand had instituted a closed door policy on meetings ever since Skye reported on the possibility of a connection between Synes and Castillo. Only a select few had been in the meetings held since then, and Sitwell wasn't one of them.

The conversation was apparently over, and Skye was careful not to make a sound as the three men left the grotto through the entrance that led back to the house. She checked her watch and decided that enough time had passed. Turning and walking back up the steps, she paused to slip her shoes back on and barely stifled a cry when she was jerked around the side of the building.

"I thought I heard something," Anderson said conversationally. "You shouldn't be here. And I can't have you telling anyone I was here, so we have a problem. Who are you with?"

Skye broke his hold with a move that May had taught her and kicked off her heels for better balance as she put a couple of feet between them.

He grinned. "I've seen you training with Agent May. I'll even be fair about this, let you have the first swing. Then you're going to tell me why you're here."

Her tracker was in her earring and Skye reached up to squeeze the post that would activate it. She hoped the move would go unnoticed by Anderson, but it didn't.

"Well that was cheating."

He advanced on her, and Skye only landed one punch before he had her pinned against the side of the grotto. No one could see them on this side of the building, and she bit at the hand covering her mouth, and she felt a surge of satisfaction when her knee connected with his groin.

His hand moved to her throat, and she choked, clawing desperately at him in an attempt to get away. Then he leaned into her and she felt his knife blade sink into her abdomen. It was searing fire followed by icy cold, and she whimpered when he leaned in, putting his weight on the hilt.

"Shhh," he said quietly. "This isn't really what I had in mind for you, but it'll do."

The blade slipped out and back in, and she could taste her own blood. Suddenly Anderson cursed and he was gone, leaving Skye to slide down the side of the grotto. The lights of the sconces danced in her vision. Her stomach felt warm, and she placed her hands over the wound.

She thought she was imagining Natasha's presence at first, but her steady hands were real.

"Fuck," Natasha muttered. "Skye, you need to stay awake."

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Skye mumbled. Strangely, it didn't. She felt like she was floating as a dark figure materialized from the woods, and they carried her along the perimeter of the drive and put her in the back of the town car. Natasha stayed beside her, pressing something on her stomach.

"Please." Skye needed to tell her about Anderson and Sitwell, but she couldn't seem to make her tongue form the words.

"We're going to get you help," Natasha told her.

Skye tried to shake her head, but the small movement made her dizzy. "Tell you."

Natasha leaned down. "Tell me what? Do you know who did this?"

Coughing against the blood in her throat, Skye struggled to raise her head only to find Natasha leaning down further to hear her. "Tell Grant… sorry." And she was sorry – sorry that she'd been impulsive. It was the one thing Grant kept warning against when it came to field work, and she'd let him down. She let all of them down.

Licking her lips, she whispered, "Anderson." The look in Natasha's eyes changed, hardened, and Skye knew she understood.

She started fading in and out. The darkness of the town car gave way to a medical bay. She was on a gurney, and Quartermain was beside her. Was he crying? She wondered if she was dreaming now.

"You'll be okay," he was saying as he smoothed her hair back from her face.

Skye felt cold again, and she shivered. Her father's face was the last thing she saw before the darkness descended.

A/N: Don't hate me for this evil cliffie! We pick up from Natasha's POV in the next story, and the way it's written now we back up to where she realizes that Skye didn't make it out before her. I haven't had a lot of time for editing lately, so as always, please let me know if you see anything I should fix. I changed some things around in this chapter, especially towards the end, so I could have goofed something somewhere that I didn't notice upon proofreading.

Up Next: This is what it feels like (and it hurts) – Part 6 of The Head and the Heart. I'll try to get the first part of that story up in the next week or so. I'd like to do a little tweaking, but I know you'd probably like to have that pretty soon, right? Thanks for reading!