[ S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Washington DC ]
Grant Ward had never set foot in the SHIELD Academy. His entire education consisted of surviving the wilderness, dodging bullets, and being trained by psychopaths. The man was basically a feral cat in a suit. So when he occasionally sauntered into SHIELD headquarters like a visiting celebrity, it always caused a minor stir—and this time, Daisy had something special planned.
She'd set up the meeting over the phone. Short, casual, efficient. The agents who got wind of it, however, weren't as composed.
"Wait, they want to make a movie?" was the general response. Confusion, mild panic, and a lot of coffee were involved. Even Grant Ward—yes, the Hydra mole who had calmly faced explosions, betrayal, and emotional breakdowns—was baffled.
He showed up at the SHIELD café, all smug charm wrapped in casual armor. Daisy met him with a polite smile and a coffee strong enough to melt steel. They exchanged the bare minimum of pleasantries before Ward, ever the cautious predator, leaned in.
"You're really putting me in the leading role? I've never acted a day in my life," he said with a skeptical smirk.
Daisy took a sip of her drink and resisted the urge to laugh in his face. "Never acted? Please. Your entire life is an Emmy-winning performance. You're the Daniel Day-Lewis of double agents."
Of course, she didn't say that out loud.
Instead, she smiled sweetly. "Mr. Ward, your image suits the script perfectly—handsome, mysterious, competent, and radiating just enough tortured justice to make middle-aged book club moms swoon. You're basically a walking trope. Embrace it."
Ward looked like he wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. Becoming a star? That was basically Spy Rule #3: Do Not Become a Public Figure. That's like asking a vampire to work the day shift at a tanning salon.
But then he remembered Hydra's instructions.
Nick Fury—yes, the one-eyed pirate himself—clearly held Daisy Johnson, Maria Hill, and Natasha Romanoff in high regard. Ward knew that any one of the three could destroy a city, and Daisy? She was... different. Dangerous in ways even Hydra hadn't fully mapped.
If he could use this opportunity to get close to her, analyze her psychology, maybe even flip her—well, that would earn him a whole new suite of nightmares... and a medal from Hydra. So, mission first.
He smiled, internally bracing himself for chaos. Outwardly, he raised the script. "Just reviewing the character," he said smoothly.
Thanks to his dual-wielded education from both SHIELD and Hydra, he absorbed the material fast. Within seconds, he'd pieced together the persona of 'Dr. Grant'—brooding, brilliant, morally flexible. Honestly, it was eerie how similar the role was to him.
Ward had never truly aligned with Hydra's ideology. His loyalty had always belonged to John Garrett. If Garrett told him to be a hero, he would. If Garrett told him to burn down an orphanage... well, he'd at least feel bad about it. Probably.
Still, no matter how much Garrett cared for him, he was just another pawn. And when the upper echelon of Hydra wanted something, even Garrett couldn't say no. Neither could Ward.
So here he was. Standing at the edge of a metaphorical cliff. Step forward, and exposure was likely. Step back, and Hydra would remove him permanently—and maybe take Garrett with him.
After mentally flipping a coin, he spoke. "What happens if a mission pops up during filming?"
"You won't be assigned any," Daisy answered breezily, her tone leaving no room for argument. She'd already handled it with Nicky—er, Director Fury.
"And what if someone recognizes me? I'm not exactly low-profile."
Daisy grinned. "Grow a beard. Maybe a mustache. Or don't. Americans are basically face-blind. Superman puts on glasses and becomes a mystery. You'll be fine."
Ward considered bolting for the exit but sighed instead. He'd run out of excuses. "Alright, I'll do it."
"Perfect," Daisy said, immediately dragging him off to see Coulson for an impromptu audition. Surprisingly, Coulson was delighted. Despite Ward's usual morally gray attitude, his acting chops—born from years of deception—were spot-on. The silent brooding thing? Nailed it.
As they entered the set, Ward saw a familiar face: Agent May.
That stoic face, those death-stare eyes—it was like Helen of Troy had traded ships for uppercuts.
Men swarmed her like flies to honey, trying to chat her up every chance they got. May mostly responded with silence, occasionally scaring someone half to death with a raised eyebrow.
Post-divorce, she'd requested a desk job, and Coulson—being the sentimental old softie he was—roped her into the crew. Her role? Captain of the rich guy's bodyguards. Fitting, really. She could make a brick wall cry for its mother.
Daisy looked around the set and sighed. With Coulson, May, Ward, Fitz, Simmons, and herself, they didn't need actors. They could just start shooting Season 1 of Agents of SHIELD: The Musical.
The cast was coming together nicely. For the role of the genius-but-tragic Dr. Hammond, she reached out to her part-time mentor and full-time grump, Dr. Hank Pym.
He blinked at the script she sent. "You want me to play... a reckless old man who abuses genetics?"
"Yes," Daisy replied cheerfully. "It's a cautionary tale. Remind people to respect science. Think of it as your dramatic TED Talk, but with lighting and explosions."
Dr. Pym was skeptical, but something about the message struck a chord. After a dramatic sigh and muttering about 'kids these days,' he agreed.
Bonus: Yale University even threw in a five-million-dollar sponsorship in exchange for filming some scenes on campus. Daisy happily took the money. With SHIELD backing her, making money was easier than swiping candy from a baby—with less crying.
Honestly, if Fury hadn't been funneling funds into his countless secret bases, he could've outbid Stark for the title of 'richest paranoid lunatic on Earth.'
With the main cast locked in, Daisy turned her attention to two critical supporting roles: the children.
The characters were textbook chaos—siblings who screamed, jumped from windows, and occasionally tried to blow things up for fun.
No SHIELD agents fit the age profile, unless she wanted to genetically de-age someone (which she definitely did not—last time ended with a diaper incident and psychological trauma for Ant-man in Avengers: Endgame).
So she turned to the Actors Guild, which had ancient, sacred protections for minors. She needed kids who were spirited, sharp, and had non-terrible parents. No diva moms or dadagers allowed.
Eventually, she found her perfect pair: Gwen Stacy and Peter Parker. Eleven years old. Smart, expressive, and—importantly—still young enough to think being in a movie was the coolest thing ever.
Time to meet the talent.
First stop: Peter Parker's school.
He wasn't in class. A ten-dollar bribe later (the universal language of middle schoolers), Daisy got the intel.
Turns out Peter had just been involved in a very Peter Parker incident. Flash Thompson had bullied him one time too many. Peter fought back. Both boys were now in the principal's office awaiting judgment.
Daisy chuckled. "Of course you'd be in detention, you little rebel."
With a swing of her coat and a gleam in her eye, she headed toward the teacher's office—ready to recruit Spider-Boy and make Hollywood history.
To be continued...
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