Chapter Thirty-Five

A/N: Just a heads up, since the TV show already had a lot of the dialogue, I'm going to be focusing more on the parts that take place off-camera. There will still be some quotes from the TV show, especially before "Turn, Turn, Turn", but I'll still be creating new scenes and new dialogue to keep it interesting 😄

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I hardly registered what Coulson was saying, I was just so relieved to have him back. I was a complete mess, tears streaming down my face, but I didn't care. This time they were happy tears, and I didn't care about anything but Phil.

"How?" I asked, chocking out the word. I was still hugging him, and I didn't pull back as I continued. "I watched you die Phil. How is this possible?"

"Director Fury faked my death to motivate the Avengers. I stopped breathing for forty seconds, but I woke up in ICU and then spent the next month recovering in Tahiti."

"How could you not tell me?" I asked, my hands curling into fists. I still didn't pull back from our hug though. "I cried for weeks. If it hadn't been for May, I never would've left my room again."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just got back from Tahiti, my first task was assembling this team. You were on your way to the academy when I put everyone together."

"I forgive you. I'm just glad you're back." I pulled him in tighter, then let go. "I was in shock when I saw you, so I'm not sure if I imagined this, but did you say I was a level seven?"

"I did."

"What? Sir!" protested Grant, joining our conversation, "She was a level five before now!"

"I know. But knowledge of me still being alive requires level seven clearance."

"Sir, FitzSimmons are still level fives."

"Yes, and now Samantha's a level seven."

Grant did not look happy, but Coulson was our Superior Officer, so he couldn't say anything. My smile grew even bigger as he stormed off back upstairs.

"Thank you so much for that," I said to Coulson.

"You're welcome. Now, why don't you come meet the newest addition to our team while I have someone deliver her things." I looked around and noticed a girl about my age with long brown hair for the first time. I was so excited to see Coulson I hadn't noticed anything else.

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry," I said, addressing her, "I should've noticed you earlier. My name's Samantha."

"It's okay, getting to see the frustration on Agent Ward's face more than made up for it," she said, shaking my outstretched hand, "My name's Skye."

"Nice to meet you Skye. And good to know that I have someone on board who can appreciate my tormenting Grant. How long have you been at SHIELD?" I asked.

"Officially? About ten minutes."

I grinned. "That's awesome. Did you just finish with your SO then?"

"What?"

"Supervising Officer. You know, like your mentor for a while after the academy?"

"No, actually, I never went to the academy."

"You didn't?"

"No. These guys found me on a mission. I was with Rising Tide."

My jaw dropped open and I looked at Skye in horror. "Rising Tide? Please tell me you're kidding!"

"Nope, not kidding. And not feeling as optimistic about being welcomed into SHIELD anymore."

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head and trying to return my expression to normal, "I didn't mean to be so rude. I was just caught a little off guard. The Rising Tide has almost gotten me killed a couple times, so I'll admit I'm a little biased, but I trust Coulson. If he trusts you, I do too. Can we start over?"

Skye considered for a minute, then nodded.

"Yeah, I guess we could. I gotta ask though, aren't you worried Ward's going to attack you next time he sees you or something? He looked pretty pissed."

I laughed. "Skye, he was my partner in the field for three years. Pissing each other off is one of the main ways we pass the time."

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After waiting with Skye for agents to show up with her stuff, I went upstairs to find Grant arguing with Coulson. Surprise surprise, it was about Skye. Apparently, I hadn't been the only person blindsided by her joining the team.

Grant and May kept pointing out problems, but I hadn't said anything yet. Finally, Coulson got frustrated and cut Grant off.

"I'm looking for an objection I haven't already anticipated."

Grant looked at me, expecting me to take his side. I bit my lip.

"I think it'll be okay," I said cautiously, "We can keep an eye on her. It'll be fine."

"Are you seriously okay with this?" asked Grant, looking at me in shock.

I nodded cautiously. "I trust Coulson. He's a good judge of character, and if he thinks she can be trusted, so do I."

Grant looked mad, but Coulson continued before he could say so.

"I'm calling this," he said. Then to Grant, "But your frown will be on record."

I wanted to laugh, but I also didn't want to make Grant any madder at me than he already was, so I managed to stay quiet.

"We've been called in to investigate an 0-8-4," said Grant, apparently deciding to try a different strategy, "We all know what that means."

"Yes, we do," agreed Coulson, "It means we don't know what that means."

Coulson passed a datapad to May, then turned back to Grant.

"The 0-8-4 is an unknown, and so is Skye. She might be just the variable we need to deal with whatever this thing is."

Coulson turned around to look at the big screen display of our mission intel mounted on the board, giving Grant the chance to glare at me.

"Seriously?" he mouthed, not speaking out loud so that Phil wouldn't hear.

"Seriously," I mouthed back, shrugging and giving him an apologetic smile, "Sorry."

Grant shook his head and walked out of the room, using a safety pamphlet as an excuse. I looked at Coulson, who'd turned back around.

"I think he's mad at me," I said.

"You survived in Siberia for four months. I'm sure you can get past this."

Phil left to go talk to Skye. Since I was pretty sure Grant was flying copilot, I decided to sit with FitzSimmons in the lounge, asking them to catch me up on their most recent mission for the duration of the flight. Maybe Grant would be over it by the time we landed.

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The site was in Peru, and as we loaded into cars to drive out from the airstrip, I was reminded of my first mission with Grant in Costa Rica.

I was going to say as much to him, but he decided to ride shotgun with May, so I rode in the lead truck with Phil. Apparently, the flight hadn't been enough for him to forget me taking Phil's side.

"Tire tracks forty meters back," announced Grant when we all got out of our cars, "I'll check them against the site's trucks, make sure we're alone."

"I'll help," I said, not giving him a chance to argue. All our team members took off in their own directions, Grant and I walking back up the road to inspect the markings in the dirt.

"This is really more of a one-person job," said Grant, not bothering to look at me.

"Dude. Why are you being so weird?"

"Because you took Coulson's side instead of mine!" he said, finally turning to me.

"Grant. Just because you're my best friend, doesn't mean that I always have to agree with you."

He looked at me. "I'm your best friend?"

"Well yeah, who else would it be? Phil and May are mom and dad, and FitzSimmons are great, but I've been through everything with you. We've almost died together 176 times, and I wouldn't want it to be anybody else."

"I'm so glad you want me to die with you."

I punched him in the arm. "You know what I mean. If the world was ending, you're the person I'd want by my side. But that doesn't mean I always have to agree with you."

Grant huffed, but his body language stopped being so cold. He held out the camera for taking pictures of the tire tracks.

"You wanna do the honors?" he asked.

"That's okay, you're a much better photographer than me," I said. When Grant gave me a suspicious look, I pulled out my SHIELD badge and showed him the picture I kept in the small pocket behind my ID. "You proved it years ago when you took the best mountain goat photo the world has ever seen."

Grant shook his head, but smiled. "I can't believe you carry that around with you."

"Of course I carry it around with me! It's my favorite picture!"

"Oh, okay, sorry. I should have realized," said Grant sarcastically, bending down to take a picture of the tire tracks, "Let's go compare these to the site trucks and meet up with the rest of the team."

We went to the professor's truck and compared the picture against his tire tread.

"Are you getting the same thing I am?" I asked, hoping I was wrong.

"I think so. The tracks don't match."

"Wonderful. How do you want to play this?"

"We don't want to tip off whoever's here, in case they're watching us. When we get to the clearing, go straight inside the temple and let Coulson know that we might have a problem. May will already be outside, so we can take care of any threat we find, but if we fail you can keep the rest of the team safe."

I nodded. "Alright. I don't love that plan, but it makes sense. Be careful."

"You too," he said, then stood up from where we'd been crouching next to the tire. He announced loudly, for the benefit of anyone listening in, "Prints match. Let's go tell the others."