I have legit no idea where this is going or even really what it is, but it would not leave me alone so I wrote it down. This is not a linear story, it will jump around to various times and POV's this first bit is entirely unbetaed in my rush to publish so please be kind in that regard. I'll give Myranda back her job for the next bit.

I own nothing.

If you liked it tell me. If you think it's shit, tell me that too.

You can leave prompts for this Verse or any other on my tumblr, I'm Meghan84 over there!

Enjoy!

=MM

Day 612:

If someone had asked Grant when Jemma let him out of Vault D on day eighty five that she'd show up and casually lay on his bed, now. He'd have said you were crazy. They have rebuilt things, they're friends.

It didn't start out that way. Survival required coexistence, which lead to tolerance, which morphed into understanding and friendship, the friendship has teetered on a change for a while now. It's a change they studiously ignore.

They have a rhythm and a life together or some semblance of one. They have worked hard for it.

"You figure out how to get the mold off the green bean crops?" he asks not looking up from his book.

The dissatisfied groan she gives him is answer enough. "Alright so other than being an incompetent farmer what's the problem?" He smiles at her.

She pauses and he decides to push. "Jemma…" She always tells him given a little persistence.

"Honestly?" She glances at him from her propped up position at his side.

"Honestly." He parrots.

"I want to have sex, and not by myself. " She sighed, "Or feel a touch that's not by my own hand."

His mouth drops open a little in surprise and he supposes he should hurry to reassure her that he'd like that, wants that even but he's too busy deciding just how he wants to fuck her and in how many different places. Ignorance is going the way of the pre-contagion oxygen and fast it would seem.

The tension between them had been building for a while now, he'd already decided this was going to happen he just wasn't sure how to play it because damn if he doesn't like her.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything, I'm the only woman in your universe right now and you still want Skye!" she fairly shouts tries to get from the bed. He throws an arm over her waist tossing the book aside he goes in for the kiss. It's all tongue and teeth and desperation.

Her nails scrape his scalp as she holds him in place to kiss him back, Simmons is a good kisser, who knew?

He skims his hand across her belly and down. When he dips his hand below the waist of her terry cloth shorts he finds her bare of underwear, her cunt wet and warm in his palm. "Damn. Jemma look at me."

He backs away to look down at her as she pivots her hips against his hand. "Open your eyes and look at me." She does. "All I want is you, not Skye. Just you, now tell me what you like."

"Just touch me." She mutters growing impatient. And so he does. Rubbing at her inner folds, she inhales sharply when he zeroes in on her clit. He presses a finger inside her, then another. He is intent on getting her off first, just to see what it looks like on her.

It doesn't take long. A few strokes and she is pulling him close and going all taunt, bottom caught between her teeth, her hips grinding into his hand and going tight around his fingers. It turns out blissed out doesn't look bad on her.

Barbarically, though he wants to make her scream. To hear some kind of noise, like her saying his name will mean that something belongs to him again.

When she comes back to herself again he's kissing a line down her neck and snaking a hand beneath her shirt. He should expect what she says next but he doesn't. "There's a condom in my shorts pocket."

"You planned this! Did you just seduce me?"

"Like it was difficult." She smiles as he fishnes the thing. Out of her pocket. And for a second even at the end of the world he's as happy as her laughter sounds. He leans in and kisses her on the mouth, not for any other than just kissing her.

He is temporarily distracted by Jemma shimmying out of said shorts. Soon she is naked before him, and he remains fully clothed. He thinks it says something about power or maybe Jemma's trust in him.

It says something about now versus then .he snatches his shirt over his head at her impatient "Grant."

She doesn't use his name. It's always Ward. Like she wants to keep up as many barriers as she can, in case she loses him, but now they're falling like dominoes. It's a surprising turn on.

Next he's stepping out of his worn jeans and rolling on the condom. He mantles himself over her and pushes in, all thought leaves his brain. He's consumed with the need to move and sink into her all at once.

She's wrapped tight around him, arms legs, and cunt. He likes it, a lot.

He sets a hard pace but the sounds she's making definitely aren't pained. It's a slightly high pitched sigh of pleasure that he could totally get addicted too. He'd like to hear his name too but he's a conceited bastard. Next time, definitely next time.

Then she's kissing him breathless and arching up into him as she comes.

He follows suit the second she cinches around him.

He collapses on top of her only remembering to roll away when she pushes up on his added weight.

After a beat of comfortable if not a little we

"Next time is gonna be a whole lot longer." He promises.

"What makes there will be a next time?" He just looks at her. "What if that's the only condom?" he merely raises his brows at her skeptically. "Fair enough. It is highly likely this will reoccur multiple times." She allows.

"We should probably go on a date first, eat one of the good TV dinners, and watch a DVD." He pauses to gauge her reaction. It is unsure but he is sure enough for two. "Notting Hill?" he offers because she loves that movie.

"Seriously?"

"Well if you want?" he rolls to his side looking down at her. For some reason it is vitally important to him she agrees to a date. And not just because they're the only people left in the base. More because she wants her to want this as badly as he does.

She lights up, and then. "Okay." She leans up to kiss him.

Jem?" He says before kissing back.

"Yeah?"

"I'm deriving an insane amount of pleasure from the knowledge that we fucked in Coulson's old bed."

She backhands him across the chest as he erupts in self-satisfied laughter. "You're a terrible human being!" she shrieks at him before laughing herself. "We're awful."

"Maybe, but I'm not sorry." Not the least bit." He thinks to himself.