Spoilers for episodes 1x13 - 1x15


While Skye's recovering, the team had brought back the nightly (and sometimes in the middle of the afternoon, too, if they have down time) tradition of playing board games together.

It's sweet, but Skye is kind of over board games. They've played at least one every night since Simmons deemed her well enough. Which had taken a ridiculously long time. Like she could possibly strain herself playing Monopoly.

She sighs dramatically. "Ugh, not another board game. I will literally die if we play one. More. Board. Game."

The others gape at her. Poor choice of words, right. Ooops. "Of boredom. Of boredom. I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry. I meant, please, let's play something else. I know, Twister!"

"Absolutely not! That's way too physically challenging for you! Do you know how many abdominal muscles all that positioning uses-"

"I won't play," Skye interrupts quickly before Simmons ruptures a blood vessel. "I can watch you guys play. I'll spin the dial thing."

"Could be fun," Grant says to Jemma with a shrug, "You may be good at Scrabble, which is mental, but you have to admit Twister is more physical, which is my specialty. It'll be a piece of cake."

Jemma raises her eyebrows.

"Ohh, now he's done it," Fitz mutters to Skye.

"Is she good at Twister, too? Is there anything Simmons is bad at? Aside from lying, obviously."

"Karaoke. But I'm not allowed to talk about that."

They both look over to where Simmons is methodically laying out the Twister board and Ward is stretching.

"Dorks. This is gonna be fun."

Fitz grins.


"Simmons, you're like scary flexible. Come on, Robot, keep up."

Ward snorts.

"Ten years of ballet," Simmons replies proudly, "Not feeling so confident now, are you, Agent Ward?"

"An unfair advantage, Agent Simmons."

"You mean like the way you take up the entire board without trying. Scoot over."

Skye suddenly has a flash of inspiration. She leans over and whispers something in Fitz's ear. A wicked smile pulls at his lips as he glances over at Ward and Simmons. Ward is currently trying to place his left foot on yellow, while also trying not to knock Simmons over, a feat that is complicated by the fact that he has to wrap his leg over hers to reach the appropriate dot. Both of them have identical looks of concentration on their faces.

Fitz gets up and whispers in Simmons' ear.

"What are you two whispering about? You can't strategize at Twister!" Ward complains.

They ignore him. Fitz steps back and Skye spins the dial.

"Simmons. Right hand on red."

Jemma stretches her hand slowly towards a red dot on the other side of Ward, then surreptitiously raises her hand to tickle the exposed area of skin between his shirt and pants. Grant squeaks and his whole body convulses, then collapses. Skye almost falls out her chair from laughing. Fitz's grin is large enough to nearly swallow his whole face.

"That's cheating!" Ward protests, shifting so that Jemma can extricate herself out from under him.

"Not really," Jemma says innocently. "The only rule in Twister is to not fall over, which, Agent Ward, you just broke."

He scowls.

"You know," Fitz says, slyly glancing sideways at Skye, "Jemma is actually very ticklish..."

Jemma gasps and tries to run away, but Grant's arms are too long and he catches her. She loses her balance and tumbles into his lap.

"Fitz, you filthy traitor!" Jemma shrieks, struggling to break free of Ward, who is currently tickling her mercilessly.

Fitz, who is propping Skye up as they both laugh, is no help.


Just outside the common room, Coulson stops and listens. Laughter. It's been far too long since he's heard that here. He allows himself to bask in its comforting tones for a minute.

Although. It does kind of sound like Simmons is being tortured. Perhaps he should check on that.

He steps into the room and takes in the scene: Fitz and Skye are laughing so hard that they are about to fall off the recliner they're sharing. Ward is sitting on the floor, with Simmons on his lap. The scientist, who's face is a slightly concerning shade of red, is struggling to escape her position of imprisonment in Ward's arms.

"Fitz," Skye manages to choke out around her laughter, "Go help her."

"Me? You do it. Ward won't hit an injured girl."

Coulson clears his throat. Everyone stops instantly.

"AC!" Skye exclaims, "We were playing Twister. Simmons won."

"Only because she cheated," Ward grumbles. Simmons takes advantage of his distraction to finally escape, elbowing him hard in the rib cage as she does so; Coulson is not entirely sure it was accidental. She stands up and primly begins to smooth out her wrinkled clothes.

"I won fair and square, Sir."

"I'm sure you did, Simmons. Now, as fun as this all is, it's time for bed." He waves his hand to cut off their protests, most of which are a variant on "We're grown-ups!" Of course they are.

"Skye needs her sleep. She's still healing."

Skye pouts, but it's the only incentive he needs for the others to pack up and to quickly begin trying to rush her to bed.

With one last fond smile at the youngest members of his team, he heads to the cockpit to check on May.


"Did you get them to bed yet?" May asks with a smile.

"As wound up as they are? I am not equal to the task. I did get Ward to remember that Simmons might like to breathe, so crisis averted there. That would make for some awkward paperwork."

May smiles.

"You know," Coulson continues, "We should play next time. I bet I'd be great at Twister."

"I know I am," May replies with a smirk.

-end-

((Hey, you know that May would be crazy good at Twister.))