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I have sailed a thousand ships to you / is there a chance one of my messages made it through?

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She’s only just grabbed her rapidly-cooling tea and begun to gingerly carry it over to the couch square when there are footsteps from behind and she startles, some of the tea spilling out before she gets the chance to realize that it’s Ward. He laughs at her little yelp and she’s so ready to chide him for it but he immediately snatches one of the towels hanging off the handle of the oven and wipes up the tea from the floor. His reaction being just as surprising as his presence, Skye doesn’t move, resolving to leave him be; that’s a bit harder after he tosses the towel onto the counter and takes his shirt off to dry her legs with it.

Good thing it’s still really dark in here, or he’d probably be seeing her blushing.

“Didn’t burn you, did it?” he asks quietly as he stands back up.

“I take it you couldn’t sleep either.”

He sighs, but accepts the response as affirmation.

“More than an hour is still a lost cause at this point. You?”

Skye shrugs, and he looks a bit more curious than she really feels comfortable with right now.

“Were you…planning on doing something?”

“Don’t even go there.”

“Go where? I wasn’t going anywhere. Well, actually I was going to get a midnight snack, but you know, you were in the way. Still in the way, actually.”

She rolls her eyes and shoves him, putting the shirt back in his hands - not that it’s going to make a difference, it’s wet now and most likely smells like peaches - and then continues on to her original destination of the couch square. She hears the fridge and a couple drawers and cupboards open and close, but she pays it little mind, busy curling up in a chair, wrapping herself snugly in a blanket, and opening 'Gone Girl' - the book - on her iPad. She chuckles a little when she thinks of the potential for comparison.

Ward stays surprisingly quiet for a while, but eventually whatever game he’s playing annoys him a little too frequently for Skye to simply ignore it.

“Insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result,” she hums, and peeks out over her iPad to see him give her a wimpy glare. He’d really gotten terrible at his glaring recently. If she didn’t like no-longer-convinced-he’s-a-monster-Grant-Ward as much as she did, it might have even worried her how little scorn he’d been able to manage in recent weeks.

But she did like him quite a bit, so she could deal with this, and she does so with a little giggle.

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles.

“So, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s - I just - Battleship is very difficult against this fancy new computer Stark equipped this place with,” he declares defensively, and she giggles again; this time, she puts her iPad down on the table and goes over to him, blanket still wrapped around her. Grant rolls his eyes, but he makes room for her anyway, and she sits down, leaning away from the corner of the couch. They start out next to each other, totally cognizant of boundaries as Skye - probably a bit obnoxiously, but whatever - watches him play and tries to help him win, but eventually she ends up leaning against his shoulder. He’d gone and slipped into another tee shirt so it’s not as though it’s his bare chest, but it’s still closeness that they haven’t had for years, and she’s not really sure what to make of it.

“Okay, you know what? You do it, if you’re that much better!” he groans frustratedly after he’s lost yet another game, taking his hands off his iPad and letting it settle in Skye’s lap. She gives a purposeful sigh but chuckles and picks it up.

It takes a couple of games, but eventually she wins - by a long shot - and she turns her head, smiling, to look at his shocked face.

“Say it,” she smirks, and he shakes his head, even though she can see he’s smiling a bit.

“Please?” she asks animatedly, unintentionally lowering her now-clasped fingers between them into the junction of their laps; they both react to the unanticipated intimacy of her touching his leg but recover back to teasing pretty quickly.

Maybe too quickly, to be frank.

Grant sighs, actually leaning his head into one of his hands with this one, but he sounds markedly impressed when he speaks.

“You freaking sunk a supercomputer’s battleship.”

Skye does a small shimmy sort-of-victory-dance thing and he really laughs out loud, though before long realizes that no one else is - or at least should be - up. Even in the almost nonexistent light of this room he looks a little happier than she’d have thought, considered she’d just showed him up, but when a couple of his fingers come to rest absentmindedly against her shoulder she remembers what that’s about, why it used to seem that so much of his pride was invested in her…but that ship had sailed and shipwrecked years ago.

And he’d still come back anyway.

“Damn right. And I’m gonna do it again!” she grins, and picks up the tablet again, watching him laugh again, laugh like he's actually happy.

The hand of his near her shoulder comes to wrap around it, his arm laid on the back of the couch behind her; she decides to lean in closer, letting his hand slip down to her elbow so that his arm is behind her, and once she moves from leaning against the couch to leaning into his side he’s holding her by the hip - and even though she’s still exhausted and sleep-deprived and he’s a little annoyed at how good she’s gotten at Battleship, it starts to really feel like maybe they’ve still got a shot at being something together.