Fic: How To Hit On Girls
Wednesday, 21 May 2014 19:31![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lemonclementineTitle: How To Hit On Girls
Fandom: Agents of SHIELD
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grant Ward/various
Warnings: Choose Not To Warn
Summary: Written for Cotton Candy Bingo, prompt: pick-up lines. Five times Grant Ward tried to get a girlfriend, or at least a girl to notice him.
Notes: This is from Ward's perspective and he's a bit of a creeper (although he doesn’t really mean to be, he’s just inherently kind of creepy)... take that as your heads-up. This ended up being a lot less funny than I intended it to be, but I think in the end it's happy enough to qualify for the Cotton Candy Bingo.
3rd Grade:
Her name was Stephanie Jenkins and she was the prettiest girl in his class. She had long blonde hair that went halfway down her back and clear, sparkling blue eyes. She was popular among the other children, and for good reason. She was pretty and very nice. She never picked on him, either. She didn't seem to care that he came to school in too-big, dirty clothes and with strange marks on his body. She never laughed when that stupid jerk Zach Coalwell called him “Grant Weird.”
She didn't really get that close to him, either, but she treated him better than the rest of his classmates, and she was even nice to the kids who were in the “special” class. If anyone would want to be his friend, it was Stephanie Jenkins.
He'd seen on television that when a boy liked a girl, he was supposed to give her flowers and candy. Girls liked those. Flowers were pretty, and candy was tasty. But where was he supposed to get them from? He didn’t have any money, and it wasn’t like he could ask his family for anything.
Then, he remembered that old Mrs. Jimenez across the street had a yard full of flowers, and that the lazy guy who worked at the 7-11 would sometimes give him a piece of candy or two for free, and if the grumpy middle-aged lady who worked there was on duty, she probably wouldn’t notice if he snuck a few pieces of candy. She was far more concerned with the teenagers who lurked around the aisles of the small shop than with a little boy.
The next morning, Grant woke up early, put on his best clothes, crept out of the house so that none of his family members would notice him, sneaked into Mrs. Jimenez’s yard and picked some flowers, then headed over to the 7-11.
The lazy clerk was on duty, so Grant strode right in and said good morning politely. The clerk looked up from the dirty magazine he had been perusing, and grinned. “You’re looking sharp today, kid!”
Grant beamed. “I’m going to get a girlfriend today!” he said confidently. The clerk laughed.
“So you’ll need some candy, I guess? I’m gonna guess you don’t have any money either. Well, whatever. Anything for love, you know? Here, take this,” he said, pulling a chocolate bar out from under the counter, and handed it over. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“Thanks, mister!” Grant replied happily, carefully placing the candy in his backpack. He didn’t want it to melt in his pocket.
All the way to school, Grant bounced with nervous energy. How would he phrase his question? What if she said no? Or, maybe even worse, what if she said yes? That stupid jerkface Zach Coalwell would probably laugh at her. But Grant would punch him in the face if he said anything mean to Stephanie. His girlfriend, or at least, he hoped so. He knew he wasn’t the most popular boy in the class, but he would treat her well. Much better than that butthead Zach Coalwell would anyway.
Finally, recess time came and he grabbed his backpack before heading out to the playground. Stephanie was near the swings with a group of her friends, just talking.
Cautiously, so very cautiously, Grant approached. Stephanie was laughing cutely at something one of her friends had said.
“Um, hi, Stephanie.”
“Ew, it’s Grant Weird!” Heather Wilkinson shrieked, pointing at him accusingly. “And he wants to talk to Stephanie! Grant Weird likes Stephanie!”
“Ewww!” all the girls screamed in mock horror. Except for Stephanie, Grant noticed.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Heather,” he said calmly. Megan Martin giggled shrilly.
“No, he wants to talk to Stephanie! He likes Stephanie!”
“Get lost, weirdo,” Heather snapped. “Stephanie doesn’t like you. Nobody likes you. You’re weird, you’re poor, and you smell funny. And you’re ugly! Go away, Grant Weird! Stephanie will never want to talk to you!”
Grant threw the flowers and candy away on his way home.
8th Grade
Her name was Dorothy Smith, and she was in his gym class. She was stunningly beautiful already at age 13, and Grant knew she was going to be even prettier when she got older. She had smooth ebony skin, and her brown eyes sparkled like diamonds. She was tall- taller than him, actually, and talented at sports. She also consistently topped the list of students who got the best grades in the year- straight As every year. And, to top it all off, she had hit puberty a bit ahead of the other girls in the grade (which was definitely a plus for a horny teenage boy).
Every year, the middle school put on a dance for the graduating eighth-graders, and Grant was determined to ask Dorothy to go with him. He’d learned from his mistakes back in the third grade- don’t go overboard, don’t try to butter the girl up with stupid presents, and definitely do not ask her out around her friends. That last one was the most important one. The girl’s friends would just fuck everything up.
The problem was that teenage girls went everywhere in herds. And if they weren’t in a herd, they were in pairs or threes. Dorothy was no exception, and it irritated Grant. Were girls like zebras or something? You’d think they were worried about being attacked by lions or tigers or some other crazy-ass jungle animal, the way they moved in groups.
For two weeks, Grant kept an eye out for when Dorothy was alone. But she never was. She was always surrounded by friends.
Finally, finally, he got his chance. It was after school, and Dorothy had missed the bus. There was no one else around, and Grant approached her at her locker.
“Dorothy,” he said. The girl jumped.
“Oh-! Ward, right?”
“Yeah, Grant Ward. I’m in your gym class.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s right.”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Alone, that is,” Grant said intensely. Dorothy looked around quickly, as though she was checking for an escape route. Grant ignored that. “You are always with your friends, and I didn’t want to approach you with them there. They’d just get in the way.”
“Um, sure?” Dorothy said hesitantly. “I really do need to be going, but it was, uh, nice to meet you?”
“No! You can’t go!” Grant said desperately, grabbing her arm. “I need to ask you something, it’s really important!”
“Ah…” the girl replied, eyes widening in alarm. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to help you…”
“What?” Grant asked, confused. “No, that’s not it! Will you go to the dance with me?”
Now it was Dorothy’s turn to be confused. “What?”
“You know, the graduation dance?” Ward asked. “Will you go with me?”
Dorothy looked even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. “Oh. Well, uh… my parents won’t let me go. They don’t think it’s appropriate for thirteen-year-olds to go to a dance. They think that sort of thing should wait until we’re adults. But, uh, thank you for asking me.”
“I can help you sneak out!” Grant exclaimed, pleased that she hadn’t completely shot him down. “I have a lot of practice sneaking away from my family! I can come pick you up- I know how to drive, too! If you live on the second floor of your house, I can even loan you my climbing rope!”
The girl looked horrified at the very idea. “I-I couldn’t do that! I think you’d better leave now… you’re going to get me into trouble, talking like that!”
“But I just want to…” Grant didn’t get to finish his sentence. Dorothy had broken free from his grip and was running like a bat out of hell down the hallway. Away from him.
Grant did not attend the eighth-grade graduation dance.
SHIELD Academy
He was finally free, in a way that he never thought he would be. He was out from under the influence of his horrible family, and under the tutelage of some of the best agents in the world. Although he was still ultimately reporting to a form of parental-like authority, John Garrett was a far better father-figure than his biological sire had ever been. And considering exactly what Garrett did for a living, that was probably the harshest condemnation he could give the man who’d given the genetic material to create him.
So when Garrett had given him a directive to try to recruit a girl at the SHIELD academy to figure out if she would be interested in switching allegiance, he didn’t think anything of it.
“Her name is Whitney Wheatley,” Garrett had instructed, “and I really think she could be an asset to us, what with her skillset.”
“Whitney Wheatley?” Ward had asked, blinking. Garrett rolled his eyes.
“Parents these days name their kids the weirdest shit, huh? But don’t bring that up when you’re talking to her! We want to get her on our side, not alienate her!”
“As though I would,” Ward muttered. He’d never forgotten (or forgiven) being called “Grant Weird” all through grade school. “What else do I need to know?”
Garrett shrugged. “How would I know? You’re a strapping young lad, she’s a pretty young girl, just do what comes naturally! You two ain’t nothing but mammals. Go watch the Discovery Channel or something if you don’t know what to do.”
“Sir!” Ward blushed a deep pink.
“What? Sometimes you’ve just gotta do what the mission requires. And sometimes the mission requires you seducing a beautiful young lady.”
This time, though, Ward was prepared. Now, he had access to the biggest aggregate of information that humanity had ever assembled in one easy-to-find place- the Internet. He spent hours researching the best ways to get a girl’s attention without coming off as a pervert or a creepy stalker. He had been right back in grade school- girls did like candy and flowers. And he had been way off the mark in middle school. He had probably scared that poor girl into thinking that he was going to kidnap her and lock her up in his basement or something.
A lot of the tips he found were fairly common-sense. Take a shower, if you have a beard make sure it’s not growing on your neck, wear deodorant and clean clothes, make sure you brush your teeth… stuff like that. And then he found an online forum where guys shared tips on how they got girls to notice them. There was one guy- PantySnatcher69- who had the most posts out of the entire forum. He really seemed to know what to do. One of that guy’s tips was to always have a sexy line ready to use on the girl. PantySnatcher69 swore that his impressive collection of pick-up lines would work every time, but he also warned that not every line would work on every girl. “If she seems reserved and shy, or maybe just uptight, one of the dirtier lines might get you slapped, or pepper-sprayed, or arrested if she calls the cops,” one post cautioned. Ward certainly didn’t want to risk that, especially not in a facility filled to the brim with highly-trained SHIELD agents. So he marked down some of the better ones on a card, stuck it in the back pocket of his pants, and made his plans.
The next day, Ward approached Whitney Wheatley. She was a remarkably plain-looking girl, with stringy hair that wasn’t really any particular color, crooked teeth, and a seemingly permanent scowl on her face. She was short, and flat-chested, and apparently had a reputation for having a terrible personality. In short, she was not Ward’s type at all. But Garrett said to recruit her for Hydra because she had useful skills. So recruit her for Hydra he would.
“Excuse me,” he said, approaching the scowling teenage girl. “Are you Whitney Wheatley?”
“Yeah,” the girl grunted. “Who’re you?”
Okay, Ward, time to do this, he thought to himself, mind wandering to the card of pick-up lines tucked away in his back pocket. The perfect one to use immediately came to mind. “Most people call me Ward,” he said, “but you can call me Tonight.”
Whitney stared at him for a bit, then guffawed, a sound that reminded Ward a bit of a donkey. “Very clever. Heh. I suppose I can talk to you for a while, funny guy.”
Ward eventually did convince her to join Hydra, after they’d slept together. Losing his virginity really wasn’t all it had been cracked up to be, and to make matters worse, Whitney had dumped him for Brock Rumlow.
At least the line had worked. Apparently PantySnatcher69 really did know what he was doing.
The Triskellion
Agent Melinda May was famous all throughout SHIELD. The notorious ice-queen, called the Cavalry, and reportedly, really good in the sack. Ward wasn’t sure if he believed those rumors- the woman seemed to robotic to be anything but a cold fish in bed, but he had seen her fight, and she was anything but a cold fish in that arena. She would be a valuable asset to Hydra if he could recruit her, he figured, and he mentioned his idea in passing to Garrett. The older man almost fell out of his chair laughing at the very notion.
“Good luck with that, kid- that bitch will die before she betrays SHIELD. Which, come to think of it, will probably end up happening anyway. But if you want to try to fuck her I guess I won’t stop you. But no attempts to recruit her, you hear me? She’ll kill you without a second thought if you so much as even think the word ‘Hydra’ around her, you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Ward said, shelving the idea. Really, the only reason he’d brought it up in the first place was because he thought the woman might be a valuable acquisition for Hydra. But as time went on, Ward realized that actually, he was sort of attracted to her. She was cold, silent, probably deadly… and she wasn’t half bad to look at either. But how could he approach her? He was just another agent, and Melinda May did not seem like the type who would casually indulge in a dalliance with a junior agent.
Of course, he forgot all about that at the annual SHIELD Christmas party. He’d maybe had one too many gin and tonics, and Agent May was wearing an expensive-looking, form-fitting black silk dress with a diamond necklace (and matching earrings). She looked beautiful, and in his alcohol-clouded mind, Ward completely forgot about why approaching her was a bad idea.
She was talking to a nondescript-looking agent in a slightly nicer suit than what he probably wore on a daily basis. The guy looked vaguely familiar- maybe he was Hydra too? Or maybe he’d just met him before?
Ward inched his way nonchalantly towards the pair. Maybe he would ask May to dance if the other guy ever got out of the way.
“I’ve told you before, Coulson, I don’t want to go out in the field again. I’m fine with a desk job.”
“You’re one of the best agents we’ve ever had!” the man- Coulson- said. “It’s just a shame you’re still working behind a desk. Doesn’t get it boring? I’d think it would get boring after a while.”
“You were there, Coulson,” May replied coldly. “You know perfectly well why I wanted to be taken out of the field. And no matter how many hints you and Fury keep dropping about your new top-secret project, I don’t want any part of it.”
The mention of the director kick-started Ward’s memory. He knew who that unassuming guy was now. May had called him Coulson, so that would make him Phil Coulson, Garrett’s old partner. Garrett still held his old partner in high esteem, even if there wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever join Hydra. Ward was standing in the presence of two legends of SHIELD. If he’d been less drunk, he might have remembered not to be so star-struck, but internally he was screaming like a teenage girl at a boy-band concert. This was awesome! Sure, Garrett would have smacked him upside the head if he was here, but Garrett wasn’t here, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. As long as he didn’t let it show, he could fanboy as much as he wanted.
Eventually, Coulson wandered off to go talk to another vaguely familiar-looking agent, this time a bald Latino man, and Ward saw his chance. He casually approached Agent May and put on his best, winning smile. “Lovely night, isn’t it?” he asked. May raised an eyebrow.
“Do I know you?” she asked. Ward shrugged.
“Dunno. I’m Grant Ward. I wanted to ask you a question, though?” May’s other eyebrow shot up, but otherwise, her face stayed as blank as ever.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Ward said, the alcohol in his system making him bold. “I just wanted to ask if those were real diamonds.”
“Yes, they are.” May replied, her hand going to up her neck as though to check if the jewelry was still there. Ward shook his head.
“No, I meant the ones in your eyes.”
May let out a startled laugh, before composing herself. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Maybe a little…” Ward admitted.
“Don’t drive yourself home then. Call yourself a cab,” May instructed, before walking off in the general direction that Coulson had gone.
It definitely wasn’t the worst rejection he’d ever gotten.
And a few years later, when they both ended up on Phil Coulson’s team, it was May who actually brought up that incident, admitting that she had found it quite funny at the time.
Then, one night, after they’d slept together, Ward tried again. “Do you know karate? Because your body is kickin’!”
“Ward, I swear to god, I will push you out of the cargo hold at cruising altitude if you ever ever say anything that stupid again.”
The Bus
Skye was everything that May was not where. Where May was cold, Skye was all warmth. While May was surgical precision, Skye reminded him a bit of a goofy, bumbling puppy, unless she was around computers. Skye took to him almost immediately, always making snarky, sarcastic remarks towards. It took him off-guard, and at first, he thought she was annoying. What was Coulson playing at, bringing this naïve, irritating civilian on board? If you could even consider Skye a civilian, what with her connection to the Rising Tide cyberterrorist group.
But as time went by, Ward found that he was warming to her, and even was becoming attracted to her. One day, Skye was laughing about Fitz’s artless attempts to get Simmons to notice him as something other than a friend.
“He should try to come up with a good line,” Ward said absentmindedly. Skye burst out laughing.
“And what would you know about that? You’ve probably never picked up a girl in your life!”
“I beg your pardon?” Ward replied.
“Come on, you’re like a robot? Hitting on women probably isn’t in your programming. It would go against your directives to be as cold and calculating as possible. You’re like a Vulcan, only less emotional!”
“I’ve dated before,” Ward said stiffly. “And I know plenty of lines!”
“Then prove it!” Skye challenged. Never one to back down from a challenge, Ward complied.
“I’m not trying to impress you or anything… but I’m a billionaire,” he said matter-of-factly. Skye snorted.
“Not likely. It might work if I didn’t know you… and if I was born yesterday,” she giggled. “Got any others? Impress me, if you’re so good at picking up girls.”
“Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast?” Ward asked.
“Huh? Where’d that come from?” Skye asked, confused “I thought we were talking about pick-up lines…”
“Because you look magically delicious,” Ward finished.
Skye looked at him for a moment, then burst out in very undignified laughter. “You are such a dork,” she said. Then, before Ward had a chance to reply, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the nose.
“But I kinda like it.”
The End
Fandom: Agents of SHIELD
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Grant Ward/various
Warnings: Choose Not To Warn
Summary: Written for Cotton Candy Bingo, prompt: pick-up lines. Five times Grant Ward tried to get a girlfriend, or at least a girl to notice him.
Notes: This is from Ward's perspective and he's a bit of a creeper (although he doesn’t really mean to be, he’s just inherently kind of creepy)... take that as your heads-up. This ended up being a lot less funny than I intended it to be, but I think in the end it's happy enough to qualify for the Cotton Candy Bingo.
3rd Grade:
Her name was Stephanie Jenkins and she was the prettiest girl in his class. She had long blonde hair that went halfway down her back and clear, sparkling blue eyes. She was popular among the other children, and for good reason. She was pretty and very nice. She never picked on him, either. She didn't seem to care that he came to school in too-big, dirty clothes and with strange marks on his body. She never laughed when that stupid jerk Zach Coalwell called him “Grant Weird.”
She didn't really get that close to him, either, but she treated him better than the rest of his classmates, and she was even nice to the kids who were in the “special” class. If anyone would want to be his friend, it was Stephanie Jenkins.
He'd seen on television that when a boy liked a girl, he was supposed to give her flowers and candy. Girls liked those. Flowers were pretty, and candy was tasty. But where was he supposed to get them from? He didn’t have any money, and it wasn’t like he could ask his family for anything.
Then, he remembered that old Mrs. Jimenez across the street had a yard full of flowers, and that the lazy guy who worked at the 7-11 would sometimes give him a piece of candy or two for free, and if the grumpy middle-aged lady who worked there was on duty, she probably wouldn’t notice if he snuck a few pieces of candy. She was far more concerned with the teenagers who lurked around the aisles of the small shop than with a little boy.
The next morning, Grant woke up early, put on his best clothes, crept out of the house so that none of his family members would notice him, sneaked into Mrs. Jimenez’s yard and picked some flowers, then headed over to the 7-11.
The lazy clerk was on duty, so Grant strode right in and said good morning politely. The clerk looked up from the dirty magazine he had been perusing, and grinned. “You’re looking sharp today, kid!”
Grant beamed. “I’m going to get a girlfriend today!” he said confidently. The clerk laughed.
“So you’ll need some candy, I guess? I’m gonna guess you don’t have any money either. Well, whatever. Anything for love, you know? Here, take this,” he said, pulling a chocolate bar out from under the counter, and handed it over. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“Thanks, mister!” Grant replied happily, carefully placing the candy in his backpack. He didn’t want it to melt in his pocket.
All the way to school, Grant bounced with nervous energy. How would he phrase his question? What if she said no? Or, maybe even worse, what if she said yes? That stupid jerkface Zach Coalwell would probably laugh at her. But Grant would punch him in the face if he said anything mean to Stephanie. His girlfriend, or at least, he hoped so. He knew he wasn’t the most popular boy in the class, but he would treat her well. Much better than that butthead Zach Coalwell would anyway.
Finally, recess time came and he grabbed his backpack before heading out to the playground. Stephanie was near the swings with a group of her friends, just talking.
Cautiously, so very cautiously, Grant approached. Stephanie was laughing cutely at something one of her friends had said.
“Um, hi, Stephanie.”
“Ew, it’s Grant Weird!” Heather Wilkinson shrieked, pointing at him accusingly. “And he wants to talk to Stephanie! Grant Weird likes Stephanie!”
“Ewww!” all the girls screamed in mock horror. Except for Stephanie, Grant noticed.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Heather,” he said calmly. Megan Martin giggled shrilly.
“No, he wants to talk to Stephanie! He likes Stephanie!”
“Get lost, weirdo,” Heather snapped. “Stephanie doesn’t like you. Nobody likes you. You’re weird, you’re poor, and you smell funny. And you’re ugly! Go away, Grant Weird! Stephanie will never want to talk to you!”
Grant threw the flowers and candy away on his way home.
8th Grade
Her name was Dorothy Smith, and she was in his gym class. She was stunningly beautiful already at age 13, and Grant knew she was going to be even prettier when she got older. She had smooth ebony skin, and her brown eyes sparkled like diamonds. She was tall- taller than him, actually, and talented at sports. She also consistently topped the list of students who got the best grades in the year- straight As every year. And, to top it all off, she had hit puberty a bit ahead of the other girls in the grade (which was definitely a plus for a horny teenage boy).
Every year, the middle school put on a dance for the graduating eighth-graders, and Grant was determined to ask Dorothy to go with him. He’d learned from his mistakes back in the third grade- don’t go overboard, don’t try to butter the girl up with stupid presents, and definitely do not ask her out around her friends. That last one was the most important one. The girl’s friends would just fuck everything up.
The problem was that teenage girls went everywhere in herds. And if they weren’t in a herd, they were in pairs or threes. Dorothy was no exception, and it irritated Grant. Were girls like zebras or something? You’d think they were worried about being attacked by lions or tigers or some other crazy-ass jungle animal, the way they moved in groups.
For two weeks, Grant kept an eye out for when Dorothy was alone. But she never was. She was always surrounded by friends.
Finally, finally, he got his chance. It was after school, and Dorothy had missed the bus. There was no one else around, and Grant approached her at her locker.
“Dorothy,” he said. The girl jumped.
“Oh-! Ward, right?”
“Yeah, Grant Ward. I’m in your gym class.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s right.”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Alone, that is,” Grant said intensely. Dorothy looked around quickly, as though she was checking for an escape route. Grant ignored that. “You are always with your friends, and I didn’t want to approach you with them there. They’d just get in the way.”
“Um, sure?” Dorothy said hesitantly. “I really do need to be going, but it was, uh, nice to meet you?”
“No! You can’t go!” Grant said desperately, grabbing her arm. “I need to ask you something, it’s really important!”
“Ah…” the girl replied, eyes widening in alarm. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to help you…”
“What?” Grant asked, confused. “No, that’s not it! Will you go to the dance with me?”
Now it was Dorothy’s turn to be confused. “What?”
“You know, the graduation dance?” Ward asked. “Will you go with me?”
Dorothy looked even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. “Oh. Well, uh… my parents won’t let me go. They don’t think it’s appropriate for thirteen-year-olds to go to a dance. They think that sort of thing should wait until we’re adults. But, uh, thank you for asking me.”
“I can help you sneak out!” Grant exclaimed, pleased that she hadn’t completely shot him down. “I have a lot of practice sneaking away from my family! I can come pick you up- I know how to drive, too! If you live on the second floor of your house, I can even loan you my climbing rope!”
The girl looked horrified at the very idea. “I-I couldn’t do that! I think you’d better leave now… you’re going to get me into trouble, talking like that!”
“But I just want to…” Grant didn’t get to finish his sentence. Dorothy had broken free from his grip and was running like a bat out of hell down the hallway. Away from him.
Grant did not attend the eighth-grade graduation dance.
SHIELD Academy
He was finally free, in a way that he never thought he would be. He was out from under the influence of his horrible family, and under the tutelage of some of the best agents in the world. Although he was still ultimately reporting to a form of parental-like authority, John Garrett was a far better father-figure than his biological sire had ever been. And considering exactly what Garrett did for a living, that was probably the harshest condemnation he could give the man who’d given the genetic material to create him.
So when Garrett had given him a directive to try to recruit a girl at the SHIELD academy to figure out if she would be interested in switching allegiance, he didn’t think anything of it.
“Her name is Whitney Wheatley,” Garrett had instructed, “and I really think she could be an asset to us, what with her skillset.”
“Whitney Wheatley?” Ward had asked, blinking. Garrett rolled his eyes.
“Parents these days name their kids the weirdest shit, huh? But don’t bring that up when you’re talking to her! We want to get her on our side, not alienate her!”
“As though I would,” Ward muttered. He’d never forgotten (or forgiven) being called “Grant Weird” all through grade school. “What else do I need to know?”
Garrett shrugged. “How would I know? You’re a strapping young lad, she’s a pretty young girl, just do what comes naturally! You two ain’t nothing but mammals. Go watch the Discovery Channel or something if you don’t know what to do.”
“Sir!” Ward blushed a deep pink.
“What? Sometimes you’ve just gotta do what the mission requires. And sometimes the mission requires you seducing a beautiful young lady.”
This time, though, Ward was prepared. Now, he had access to the biggest aggregate of information that humanity had ever assembled in one easy-to-find place- the Internet. He spent hours researching the best ways to get a girl’s attention without coming off as a pervert or a creepy stalker. He had been right back in grade school- girls did like candy and flowers. And he had been way off the mark in middle school. He had probably scared that poor girl into thinking that he was going to kidnap her and lock her up in his basement or something.
A lot of the tips he found were fairly common-sense. Take a shower, if you have a beard make sure it’s not growing on your neck, wear deodorant and clean clothes, make sure you brush your teeth… stuff like that. And then he found an online forum where guys shared tips on how they got girls to notice them. There was one guy- PantySnatcher69- who had the most posts out of the entire forum. He really seemed to know what to do. One of that guy’s tips was to always have a sexy line ready to use on the girl. PantySnatcher69 swore that his impressive collection of pick-up lines would work every time, but he also warned that not every line would work on every girl. “If she seems reserved and shy, or maybe just uptight, one of the dirtier lines might get you slapped, or pepper-sprayed, or arrested if she calls the cops,” one post cautioned. Ward certainly didn’t want to risk that, especially not in a facility filled to the brim with highly-trained SHIELD agents. So he marked down some of the better ones on a card, stuck it in the back pocket of his pants, and made his plans.
The next day, Ward approached Whitney Wheatley. She was a remarkably plain-looking girl, with stringy hair that wasn’t really any particular color, crooked teeth, and a seemingly permanent scowl on her face. She was short, and flat-chested, and apparently had a reputation for having a terrible personality. In short, she was not Ward’s type at all. But Garrett said to recruit her for Hydra because she had useful skills. So recruit her for Hydra he would.
“Excuse me,” he said, approaching the scowling teenage girl. “Are you Whitney Wheatley?”
“Yeah,” the girl grunted. “Who’re you?”
Okay, Ward, time to do this, he thought to himself, mind wandering to the card of pick-up lines tucked away in his back pocket. The perfect one to use immediately came to mind. “Most people call me Ward,” he said, “but you can call me Tonight.”
Whitney stared at him for a bit, then guffawed, a sound that reminded Ward a bit of a donkey. “Very clever. Heh. I suppose I can talk to you for a while, funny guy.”
Ward eventually did convince her to join Hydra, after they’d slept together. Losing his virginity really wasn’t all it had been cracked up to be, and to make matters worse, Whitney had dumped him for Brock Rumlow.
At least the line had worked. Apparently PantySnatcher69 really did know what he was doing.
The Triskellion
Agent Melinda May was famous all throughout SHIELD. The notorious ice-queen, called the Cavalry, and reportedly, really good in the sack. Ward wasn’t sure if he believed those rumors- the woman seemed to robotic to be anything but a cold fish in bed, but he had seen her fight, and she was anything but a cold fish in that arena. She would be a valuable asset to Hydra if he could recruit her, he figured, and he mentioned his idea in passing to Garrett. The older man almost fell out of his chair laughing at the very notion.
“Good luck with that, kid- that bitch will die before she betrays SHIELD. Which, come to think of it, will probably end up happening anyway. But if you want to try to fuck her I guess I won’t stop you. But no attempts to recruit her, you hear me? She’ll kill you without a second thought if you so much as even think the word ‘Hydra’ around her, you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Ward said, shelving the idea. Really, the only reason he’d brought it up in the first place was because he thought the woman might be a valuable acquisition for Hydra. But as time went on, Ward realized that actually, he was sort of attracted to her. She was cold, silent, probably deadly… and she wasn’t half bad to look at either. But how could he approach her? He was just another agent, and Melinda May did not seem like the type who would casually indulge in a dalliance with a junior agent.
Of course, he forgot all about that at the annual SHIELD Christmas party. He’d maybe had one too many gin and tonics, and Agent May was wearing an expensive-looking, form-fitting black silk dress with a diamond necklace (and matching earrings). She looked beautiful, and in his alcohol-clouded mind, Ward completely forgot about why approaching her was a bad idea.
She was talking to a nondescript-looking agent in a slightly nicer suit than what he probably wore on a daily basis. The guy looked vaguely familiar- maybe he was Hydra too? Or maybe he’d just met him before?
Ward inched his way nonchalantly towards the pair. Maybe he would ask May to dance if the other guy ever got out of the way.
“I’ve told you before, Coulson, I don’t want to go out in the field again. I’m fine with a desk job.”
“You’re one of the best agents we’ve ever had!” the man- Coulson- said. “It’s just a shame you’re still working behind a desk. Doesn’t get it boring? I’d think it would get boring after a while.”
“You were there, Coulson,” May replied coldly. “You know perfectly well why I wanted to be taken out of the field. And no matter how many hints you and Fury keep dropping about your new top-secret project, I don’t want any part of it.”
The mention of the director kick-started Ward’s memory. He knew who that unassuming guy was now. May had called him Coulson, so that would make him Phil Coulson, Garrett’s old partner. Garrett still held his old partner in high esteem, even if there wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever join Hydra. Ward was standing in the presence of two legends of SHIELD. If he’d been less drunk, he might have remembered not to be so star-struck, but internally he was screaming like a teenage girl at a boy-band concert. This was awesome! Sure, Garrett would have smacked him upside the head if he was here, but Garrett wasn’t here, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. As long as he didn’t let it show, he could fanboy as much as he wanted.
Eventually, Coulson wandered off to go talk to another vaguely familiar-looking agent, this time a bald Latino man, and Ward saw his chance. He casually approached Agent May and put on his best, winning smile. “Lovely night, isn’t it?” he asked. May raised an eyebrow.
“Do I know you?” she asked. Ward shrugged.
“Dunno. I’m Grant Ward. I wanted to ask you a question, though?” May’s other eyebrow shot up, but otherwise, her face stayed as blank as ever.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Ward said, the alcohol in his system making him bold. “I just wanted to ask if those were real diamonds.”
“Yes, they are.” May replied, her hand going to up her neck as though to check if the jewelry was still there. Ward shook his head.
“No, I meant the ones in your eyes.”
May let out a startled laugh, before composing herself. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Maybe a little…” Ward admitted.
“Don’t drive yourself home then. Call yourself a cab,” May instructed, before walking off in the general direction that Coulson had gone.
It definitely wasn’t the worst rejection he’d ever gotten.
And a few years later, when they both ended up on Phil Coulson’s team, it was May who actually brought up that incident, admitting that she had found it quite funny at the time.
Then, one night, after they’d slept together, Ward tried again. “Do you know karate? Because your body is kickin’!”
“Ward, I swear to god, I will push you out of the cargo hold at cruising altitude if you ever ever say anything that stupid again.”
The Bus
Skye was everything that May was not where. Where May was cold, Skye was all warmth. While May was surgical precision, Skye reminded him a bit of a goofy, bumbling puppy, unless she was around computers. Skye took to him almost immediately, always making snarky, sarcastic remarks towards. It took him off-guard, and at first, he thought she was annoying. What was Coulson playing at, bringing this naïve, irritating civilian on board? If you could even consider Skye a civilian, what with her connection to the Rising Tide cyberterrorist group.
But as time went by, Ward found that he was warming to her, and even was becoming attracted to her. One day, Skye was laughing about Fitz’s artless attempts to get Simmons to notice him as something other than a friend.
“He should try to come up with a good line,” Ward said absentmindedly. Skye burst out laughing.
“And what would you know about that? You’ve probably never picked up a girl in your life!”
“I beg your pardon?” Ward replied.
“Come on, you’re like a robot? Hitting on women probably isn’t in your programming. It would go against your directives to be as cold and calculating as possible. You’re like a Vulcan, only less emotional!”
“I’ve dated before,” Ward said stiffly. “And I know plenty of lines!”
“Then prove it!” Skye challenged. Never one to back down from a challenge, Ward complied.
“I’m not trying to impress you or anything… but I’m a billionaire,” he said matter-of-factly. Skye snorted.
“Not likely. It might work if I didn’t know you… and if I was born yesterday,” she giggled. “Got any others? Impress me, if you’re so good at picking up girls.”
“Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast?” Ward asked.
“Huh? Where’d that come from?” Skye asked, confused “I thought we were talking about pick-up lines…”
“Because you look magically delicious,” Ward finished.
Skye looked at him for a moment, then burst out in very undignified laughter. “You are such a dork,” she said. Then, before Ward had a chance to reply, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the nose.
“But I kinda like it.”
The End
