Chapter Text
1. Fitz
“Phil.”
“I’m not touching you!”
“You’re being unprofessional.”
“How is this unprofessional?” May pursed her lips but he couldn’t see her face; she was looking over some data on the table and he had his hands on either side of her, looking over her shoulder at the same data. He wasn’t lying- somehow he had her trapped against the table without actually touching her, but it was still an intimate position to be caught in.
“Phil.”
“I’m looking at the report,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her to half-lift her out of the way. “Can you see from here?” May dropped her hands to her sides, and she knew Phil had picked up on her exasperation when he chuckled. “I’m comfortable like this.”
“You’re being obnoxious.” May wriggled out of his arms and he let her go, grinning. “One of them is going to see.” Phil widened his eyes in a perfectly innocent look, and May rolled her eyes.
“See what?” he said, and smiled his infuriating, knowing smile. May held his gaze and he held his smile, until after a moment May’s lips twitched and she looked back down at the table. Phil grinned in triumph.
“I think I’m being very professional,” he said, and May let herself laugh. It was short, but it filled the command center and lit up her face, and Phil’s eyes softened at the sound.
“If this is you being ‘professional,’ someone would have sued you a long time ago.”
“I’m telling you, Jemma, I saw what I saw!” Neither Fitz nor Simmons heard Skye enter the lab, they were too wrapped in their argument. Fitz’s hands were flailing around in distress and Jemma rolled her eyes.
“Really Fitz, I’m sure it was nothing.” Fitz opened his mouth to retort, but Skye interjected before he could speak.
“What was nothing?” she asked, and Fitz whirled around to face her. Fitz placed a hand over his heart and let out a relieved breath, and Jemma smiled brightly.
“Hello, Skye!” Jemma chirped, as if they hadn’t just seen each other at breakfast three hours ago. “How was training?” Skye shrugged. She still hadn’t gotten much of a read on Agent Ward, but so far he seemed like a tough instructor, whatever they were working on.
“Fine. I beat Ward at Battleship.” Fitzsimmons grinned. “What are you guys talking about?” Fitz’s smile was replaced with a grim look, and Jemma rolled her eyes again.
“Fitz,” she said, and drew out his name with a mocking look, “is under the impression that Agents Coulson and May are-” Fitz shushed her, leaning around the holotable to check all the doors. Jemma pursed her lips but lowered her voice. “-in an- um- an intimate relationship.” Skye’s eyebrows jumped up and she turned to Fitz for more details. He flushed.
“Why?” Skye prompted. “Did you catch them- you know-” She raised her hands in the beginning of a lewd gesture, but Fitzsimmons’ faces were both so red they were purple before she could do anything but nod suggestively. Skye gave them an exasperated look and let her hands fall. “How old are you two?”
“Not old enough for whatever you were about to do,” said Jemma, and Skye smirked.
“Well, did you?” she asked, and Fitz shook his head.
“No, but this morning up in the command center-”
“They’re doing it in the command center?” Jemma paled and Fitz turned a delicate shade of green. “Sorry.”
“As I was saying,” Fitz said after a moment, “this morning they were up in the Command Center, and Agent Coulson said something-”
“What? What did he say?” Skye asked eagerly. Fitz gave her a frustrated look. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t hear what he said,” Fitz admitted. “But,” he said significantly, “whatever it was, it made Agent May laugh.” Skye waited a beat, but that appeared to be the end of the story. Fitz nodded slowly, as if he had just said something profound and mildly disturbing. Skye and Jemma shared a glance.
“That’s it?” Fitz’s mouth fell open in indignance, and Jemma giggled.
“You- did you hear what I just said? She laughed, Skye. Laughed.” Skye shrugged.
“They’ve known each other, like, forever, right? Why is that so huge?”
“It’s not,” Jemma said, shaking her head in fond exasperation. “I’m surprised at you, Fitz, of course Agent May laughs.”
“But have you ever heard her do it?” Fitz demanded, and Jemma hesitated.
“Well, no-”
“Exactly.” Jemma pursed her lips and shared another look with Skye. They both smiled. Fitz glanced between them and crossed his arms with a huff.
“Fine,” he said as Jemma crossed the lab to look over some samples. “Laugh. But I’m telling you, something is going on there.”
2. Jemma
“May-”
“I’m fine, Phil.” Her sharp tone would have warded off almost anyone else, but Phil didn’t waver. He crossed his arms and met her hard look.
“Where are you hurt?” he asked firmly, and May pursed her lips.
“I’m not hurt, just sore. I’ll be fine after a shower.” She moved to leave his office, but Phil wouldn’t let her pass. She glared at him. He nodded at his tiny sofa.
“Face down,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. May gave him a dangerous look and opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off. “Melinda.” He said her name as gently as he could, and her resistance crumbled. She slipped off her leather vest and draped it over the arm of the sofa, and arranged herself across the cushions. Phil laid his jacket over his chair and rolled up his sleeves. May rested her head on her hands, and let her eyes slip closed.
“Where is it the worst?” Phil asked quietly, running his fingers up her back and over her shoulders, probing for knots. He pressed his thumbs on either side of her spine, between her shoulderblades, and her breath hitched. “There?”
“Mmm.”
Phil worked between her shoulderblades for a few minutes, progressing from his knuckles to his thumbs to just his fingertips. She tensed under his touch, unused to letting him care for her in this way, but Phil just pressed her shoulders into a relaxed position and ran his fingers through her hair until she uncoiled like a cat. He kissed the back of her head and ran his fingers off her back until the last bit of tension faded.
“Anywhere else?” he asked, rubbing his palms up and down her back. She let out a deep sigh and melted under his hands.
“Hmm.”
“What was that?” It took May a minute to answer, and Phil pressed his knuckles up her back to her neck. Her tendons were like steel cords, and she flinched and grunted as he worked his knuckles from her shoulders to the base of her skull.
“Shoulders.” Her voice was muffled against her hands. Phil gently ran his thumbs down her neck and over her shoulders. He winced; her shoulders were little more than one giant knot each. She had been under stress, what with flying the plane and keeping the kids safe and helping him manage the, as she called it, live-in daycare he had created, but he hadn’t realized the effect it had been having. She had been keeping it under tight control and it was manifesting in painful coils of tension.
He curled his fingers into her muscles and she tensed, her fingers clenching into fists. “Relax,” he said, and she hissed.
“I am relaxed,” she said, and groaned when he dug his elbow into her left shoulder. “That-” Her breath caught and Phil backed off, leaning down to look her in the face.
“Too much?” he asked, and swept a strand of hair off her forehead. She shook her head.
“Again,” she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were squeezed shut.
Phil worked up to it this time, first pressing deeper and deeper circles with his thumbs before he started using his whole hands. He moved his thumbs to her neck again while his palms pressed into her shoulders, and she made a long, low sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a groan.
“Too much?” Phil asked again, but she shook her head again, and little impatiently this time.
“Don’t stop.” Phil continued with his hands, smoothing away as much of the tension he could reach. When he returned to using his elbows, she let out a deep groan and screwed up her face. Phil pressed his elbow deep into her muscles and her breathing came short and shallow, but he felt the last, deepest knots of tension unfurling. He switched to the other shoulder and she hissed through her teeth.
After a few minutes with his elbow he went back to his hands, then to his thumbs, then just to his fingertips. She deflated, boneless, into the cushions. Phil dropped a soft kiss onto each of her shoulders, then the back of her neck, then finally her cheek. She let out a content hmming sound and didn’t move from the sofa.
Jemma stumbled into the lab, pale and shaking. Fitz looked up when she fell into a chair.
“Jemma?” he asked, frowning in concern.
“You were right, Fitz,” she said in a choked voice.
“Well, obviously,” Fitz said, and shut off the holotable. “About what?” She looked up at him with eyes full of suffering and unimaginable horrors.
“Coulson and May,” she said in a hushed voice. “I think-” She cut herself off and swallowed, and Fitz glanced around the lab before approaching her. “I think they’re having sex in his office.” Fitz blanched.
“What- right now?” Jemma nodded, close to tears.
“The noises, Fitz-”
“Well don’t-” Fitz looked around to make sure no one was coming in the back entrance and wrapped an arm around Jemma’s shoulders. “Don’t- try not to think about it, okay?” Jemma shuddered.
“What do we do?” she whispered. “Should we tell Skye?”
“Are you kidding?” Fitz yelped. “She’ll want to hack into the cameras to make sure!” Jemma went pale and nodded.
“Right,” she said. “Our secret.” Fitz nodded and patted her on the back.
“Well,” he said after a moment. “Not our secret-”
“Fitz!”
3. Skye
“Hey, A.C.” Skye said with a grin. He gave her a tired smile. “Good to have you back.”
“Yes, we’re very glad you’re not dead, sir,” Simmons said brightly, and Fitz nodded beside her. “Are you hurt?” Coulson shook his head.
“No, it went much better than the last time I was kidnapped,” he said, and Skye saw him sneak a glance at May. Her face remained as stony and unyielding as her arms crossed in front of her. “Not even a little dead.” May’s face darkened, and Skye barely kept herself from wincing.
“That was stupid,” May said bluntly, and Coulson didn’t bother denying it; unlike the incident with Raina and the memory machine, this kidnapping had been completely avoidable, which an angry May had constantly been making clear in the two days he had been missing. “And reckless.”
“Yep,” Coulson said. “Sorry, everyone.”
“It’s no problem, sir,” Fitz said. Coulson raised his eyebrows. “I mean, obviously it was a problem, but not- we don’t mind hunting you down. Or-”
“Thank you, Fitz,” Coulson interrupted, and smiled to show he had been joking. Skye felt something loosen in her chest. She hadn’t known Coulson, or any of them, very long, but it had still felt like a part of her was missing when he was gone.
May turned on her heel and strode away without another word, her hair swishing as she went. Coulson grimaced. He gave the team another quick, grateful smile, before hurrying after her. Skye waited until Coulson was up the stairs before she followed.
“Skye? What are you doing?” Jemma asked, though it seemed she already knew. Her face was scrunched up with anxiety.
“I’m making sure Coulson isn’t about to get himself killed,” she said, and took the stairs two at a time. “Stop looking at me like that!” she called without looking back.
She didn’t really have a plan, but it didn’t end up being important. “Skye!” Skye cursed.
“Yeah, Ward?” He didn’t ask her why she had been bolting towards Coulson’s office, which she was almost glad for. Then he kept talking.
“Set up the mats downstairs. We’re sparring.”
“What- right now?” There were no raised voices coming from Coulson’s office, which meant Coulson probably hadn’t said something stupid and made May angrier than she already was. Ward crossed his arms. “Fine,” Skye grumbled. “But it’s on you if May breaks Coulson’s face.”
He caught up to her just inside his door. “Melinda-” Before he knew what was happening she slammed into him, and he barely had time to open his arms before her arms were around his neck and her legs were around his waist. He instinctively held her to his chest, but she didn’t relax her death grip.
She hadn’t let him hold her like this in years, since before Bahrain, and Phil belatedly realized just how worried she must have been.
“Oh,” he said softly. “Okay. Okay.” She buried her face in his neck and he raised one hand to cradle her head, easily holding her up with the other arm. “I’m sorry I scared you. But I’m okay now.”
“It was stupid to go in alone,” she said in a muffled voice. “You should have waited for me.”
“I should have,” he admitted. “But it’s okay now.”
He felt her heartbeat against his chest and knew she could feel his. His knees ached but he didn’t dare mention it; if this was what Melinda needed after chasing after him for two days, it was what she would get.
Since the Battle of New York she had been hesitant around him, uncertain of what his heart could take, and even before that, she hadn’t liked feeling constrained in the years since Bahrain. So he was content to have her wrapped protectively and possessively around him, squeezing the breath out of him. Phil kissed her shoulder- it was all he could reach- and stroked his fingers up and down her spine. She relaxed a little and sagged in his arms.
“Have you slept?” Phil asked, and her silence was answer enough. “Melinda…”
“I couldn’t.” It was muffled in his neck, but Phil understood. “Not while you needed me. I couldn’t do nothing.”
“Okay,” Phil said softly, because her heart rate had picked up and her grip on him was tighter. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.
“I’m here now, Phil. I know I wasn’t before-”
“Hey.” Phil shifted and Melinda pulled back to look him in the face. “Don’t talk like that. It wasn’t your fault.” ‘It’ could have been several things, and Phil meant all of them- him stupidly going in alone, Raina kidnapping him, Loki’s scepter through his heart. Bahrain. Phil knew Melinda understood, even though her resigned expression told him she didn’t believe him.
But she didn’t dispute him. She ran her fingers through his hair, parted it this way and that. Phil waited for a teasing comment about his increasing lack of hair, but it didn’t come, and somehow that was worse. Her hand trailed down his face and cupped his cheek, and the lingering sadness and fear on her face had him pulling her back against him.
“You have to let me be your partner, Phil,” she said softly.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Melinda tucked her head into the crook of his neck, lazily toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck.
“Hey,” Phil said after a moment, “how about we put off refueling for a day, and just find a hotel for tonight?” Melinda was out of his arms so fast for a panicked second he thought he had blacked out and dropped her, but then he registered her stony expression and realized how she had misinterpreted him. “Not for that,” he said. She crossed her arms, but didn’t back away when he took a step closer. “Just to sleep. In the same bed. Without worrying about the team finding us.” She pursed her lips, still annoyed, but allowed him to place his hands around her waist. Phil slowly lowered his forehead to hers, and the tension left her shoulders as she looked up into his eyes. She laid her head on his chest, arms still crossed.
“Okay.”
4. Skye again
The soft sheets tangled around his body weren’t his, and for a moment he couldn’t remember why he wasn’t in his bunk on the Bus. Wherever he was, he had slept in- the midmorning sun reached him through his eyelids. A warm weight shifted on his chest, and Phil’s eyes snapped open.
Melinda’s head was pillowed on his shoulder and she had one hand over his heart. She was in a tank top and shorts and her hair was splayed over the pillow behind her, and Phil had an arm around her, half-supporting her. For a moment, all Phil could do was stare. She was achingly beautiful.
It had been months since they had been able to spend the whole night in one bed together, and Phil hated to end it, but they had both slept in.
“Melinda.” She made a muffled noise and curled closer to him, reaching her arm completely around his shoulder and tucking one leg between his. “Melinda.”
“Sh.” Phil smiled and gave her a moment, trailing his fingers up and down her ribs. Melinda shifted and opened her eyes. “What time is it?”
Phil squinted at the clock. “7:30.” Melinda pushed herself up into a half-seated position, and Phil missed her warmth.
“I slept for ten hours?” It was twice as much sleep as she usually got, but she had needed it. She swept her hair off her face and looked around the room, taking stock of her surroundings.
“Uh-huh.” The team hadn’t put up a fuss at the idea of staying in a hotel for the night. Ward had grumbled about the La Quinta they had found not being secure, but May had only given him a look and said “That’s why we’re here,” and he had settled down. The minute they had dumped their overnight bags in their rooms- Skye paired with Simmons, Ward with Fitz, and Phil and Melinda in their own separate rooms- Skye had dragged Fitzsimmons down to the pool. Ward had gone along, muttering about being the only adult, and had left Phil and Melinda alone and suddenly exhausted.
Phil had tugged Melinda into his room and given her a long, slow kiss that had her melting against him, then had stripped to his undershirt and boxers before falling into bed. Melinda had rustled around the room for another minute, changing into her pajamas and checking the exits, before she had slipped under the sheets next to Phil and curled into his arms. Phil didn’t remember anything after that, but he knew neither of them had had nightmares.
Phil shifted up a little in the pillows. “How did you sleep?” he asked, and Melinda looked down at him, still sleep-muddled. Phil took her hand and gently pulled it back over his shoulder, and she sank back onto his chest with a sigh.
“I slept,” she said, and Phil kissed her head.
“Me, too.” Melinda propped her chin up on his chest and her eyes roved over his face, still not completely alert. Phil toyed with a few strands of her hair and she tilted her head towards his hand. He smiled and cupped her cheek.
“Good morning,” she said quietly, and Phil sat up to draw her face closer to his.
“Good morning.” Phil didn’t mean for it to go beyond a soft brush against her lips, but then Melinda was straddling his lap and her fingers were threaded tightly through his hair, and Phil was slipping his hands up under her tank top and she moaned into his mouth.
The team would be looking for them soon but he couldn’t make himself care. They were all adults, they could entertain themselves for-
There was a knock on the door. “Coulson? Are you up?” Phil resisted the urge to bang his head back against the headboard. Melinda froze, and they both held their breath, waiting to see if Skye would just go away. “Hey, morning glory, shouldn’t we be leaving soon?” Phil’s forehead fell onto Melinda’s shoulder and he let out a deep sigh.
“Get in the shower.” Phil blinked.
“What-?”
“Get in the shower,” Melinda said in a low voice. “I’ll handle this.” She rolled off the bed and stripped off her pajamas, and in less than twenty seconds she was pulling on her vest and lacing up her boots. Phil stared, baffled but unwilling to question her. “Phil!” she hissed, and he jumped.
“Yep.” He jumped off the bed and darted to the bathroom.
“Coulson?” Skye knocked again, certain she had heard movement. “Co-” The door swung open and Skye blinked. “May.”
“Skye.” May offered no explanation, just stared as Skye struggled for words.
“I was- um- I wanted to talk to Coulson-”
“He’s in the shower,” May said in her blank voice. Skye glanced over May’s shoulder at the room, and looked May up and down. She looked the same as ever- SHIELD issued top, vest, boots, all in order. Not a single perfect hair was out of place. The bed only looked slept in, and true to May’s word, Skye heard the shower switch on as May stood silently in the doorway, waiting for her to speak.
“What are you-?”
“I’m going shopping,” May said, and suddenly a little hotel notepad was in her hand. “Do you want anything?” Skye blinked. Nothing was adding up.
“Uh-”
“Here.” May shoved the notepad into her hands. Bread and tortilla chips were already on the list in Coulson’s handwriting. “Add what you want, and ask the others. I’ll go out before we leave this afternoon.”
“Oh, um- okay.” May blinked once, then moved to shut the door. “Actually-” Skye held up the list. “I could go, if you want.” May stared at her, expressionless. “I’ve been going kind of stir crazy.” May looked at her for a few more seconds.
“Take Ward or Fitzsimmons,” she said, and shut the door without another word. Skye stared at the door with her mouth open.
“What just happened?”
5. The kids
Phil reached to the side and snapped the blinds closed almost without a thought.
“I was hoping you’d come back.” Melinda didn’t respond. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
“I know.” He knew she wasn’t punishing him, she wasn’t spiteful like that. She had just closed herself off until she was sure he wouldn’t hurt her again. Phil’s heart tightened.
“Ward is-”
“Maria told me.” Phil nodded. “Vic’s dead.” It wasn’t a question, or a biting accusation, or even really a statement. It was just there, added to the list of every impossible thing they had been put through. He remembered Vic chasing after Melinda at the Academy, yelling at her to get off the roof, and later, staying with her whenever Phil was away on a mission. He realized there was one less good person in a world full of super-powered maniacs, and his shoulders drooped.
“Yeah.”
Melinda’s face didn’t change, her voice was toneless as she answered, “I’m gonna kill Ward.”
“Get in line.” Melinda didn’t smile, but her face relaxed in a way that he knew she understood. They were on the same page.
More than anything, he was relieved to see her alive. Part of him didn’t really believe she could be killed, at least not by the likes of Ward, but everything in his life had been turned upside down and inside out in the last few weeks. Garrett was HYDRA, Melinda had lied to him, and for ten hours, he had been stupid enough to believe Victoria Hand would ever betray SHIELD. Now his plane was gone, his organization was in shambles, and the whole world believed Nick Fury was dead. And Vic was gone, like so many others lost in HYDRA’s initial attack.
But Melinda was back. Despite every accusation, every hurtful word he had thrown in her face, she had returned to him. That, at least, was certain.
“I should have known you were protecting me,” Phil said. She linked her fingers in front of her.
“I tried to stop them,” she said. “When I saw how much you were hurting. I told Fury to stop. He didn’t listen.” Phil’s shoulders sagged.
“Why did he do it?” he asked quietly. “Why me?” Melinda’s mouth twitched.
“I don’t know.”
Silence hung between them for what felt like an unbearably long time. Phil thought of Melinda being forced to watch as he begged to die, and the look in her eyes when he had accused her of being the Clairvoyant. When he had ICEd her, after everything she had done to protect him.
“I love you,” he said suddenly, because it was the most important thing he was desperate for her to understand. Her face softened.
“I know.”
Then she was in his arms, and she was real and she was safe, standing on her toes and tucking his head into the crook of her neck. He engulfed her and melted into her at the same time, surrounding and surrounded. Her heart was thrumming against his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, memorizing the feel of it, the feel of her.
“I’m sorry about Vic,” he said into her hair, and a shudder ran through her. Her arms tightened around him.
“I’m sorry I left,” she whispered, and Phil left denying it for another time. He didn’t want an argument. He just wrapped his arms farther around her and gave himself a moment to be nothing but happy she was there.
“Do you think we should go talk to him?” Skye tore her eyes from Coulson’s door and met Jemma’s earnest eyes. There had been too much going on in the last few days for any of them to worry about him, but now that they had time to breathe, it was obvious how sad he was. Trip chalked it up to the fall of SHIELD, but Coulson hadn’t been sad when they left the HUB, he had been angry. At the world, at himself, at May. But now that SHIELD was well and truly gone, all the anger had sapped out of him.
None of them had realized how close Coulson and May had been until Coulson had been forced to function without her. A part of him had closed off, leaving only a hard, determined man where a kind, warm father-figure had been. It was like he had forgotten how to hope.
“I don’t think we could help,” Trip said gently. “It’s tough to lose a partner. I wouldn’t want company.”
“But he shouldn’t be alone,” Jemma argued, looking to Skye. “We’ve all lost so much, but he’s probably lost the most.”
“SHIELD was his life,” Skye said faintly. “And May-” None of them moved or even made a sound, but a spark of tension lit between them at her name. “May was his best friend.”
“She’ll be back,” Jemma said, and Trip’s face softened at the optimism shining in her eyes. “She has to. But until she does-” Jemma glanced around from Trip to Skye, neither of whom would meet her eyes, to Fitz, who shook his head. Jemma crumpled. “He should know he isn’t alone.”
“He knows,” Fitz said, and took her hand.
“Yeah,” Skye said. She glanced up at Coulson’s door again. “We should leave him alone, Simmons. The blinds are closed. He’s probably asleep.”
+1. The kids again
“You should go to bed.” Melinda just crossed her arms. Phil sighed and held up his folder. “I’ll be a few more hours with these.” Melinda raised her eyebrows.
“Reports from Koenig?” she asked, and Phil pursed his lips. “I know it’s big, Phil.”
“And classified.” Melinda’s expression darkened, and Phil’s annoyance faded away as quickly as it had come. Neither of them liked secrets between them, but this was necessary. “Melinda, if it becomes necessary, I’ll read you in.” Melinda gave him a wary look, but he let her read him. She relaxed when she saw he was being honest.
“Did you do any actual recruiting?” she asked with a shadow of a smile. Phil pulled a folder out of the pile on his desk and handed it over.
“Yep. Hartley’s in.” Melinda flipped through the papers and raised her eyebrows.
“She seriously expects this much?” Phil almost laughed.
“I think that was Hunter’s idea.”
“Hunter? Lance Hunter?” Phil nodded, and felt Melinda’s tired grimace in his soul. “That’ll be fun.”
“Mm-hmm.” Melinda flicked through a few more pages. Phil leaned back in his chair and looked up at her.
She wouldn’t look tired to anyone else, but Phil knew the tiny crease in her brow and the shadows under her eyes. He also knew she was fighting it; her posture was uncomfortably stiff and her shoulders were tense. Phil frowned up at her for a moment before he understood.
“I’m not going to carve tonight.” Her mouth tightened at the corners. She didn’t look up from Hartley’s folder.
“It’s been thirty-two days,” she said stiffly. “You’re overdue.”
“It’ll be a few more days,” Phil said. Melinda didn’t move. “I promise.”
Melinda fixed him with a hard stare. Phil willed his hands not to twitch.
He really didn’t need to carve- not yet, anyway. The urge was there, it always was, but it wasn’t quite overwhelming. The letters in his reports weren’t swirling into circles and lines, he could hold a pen without digging it into the closest flat surface, and he could open his top right drawer without running his fingers over his knife. There were no alien maps in his dreams. Just a subtle itch under his skin, growing, but still small enough to ignore.
“Melinda.” He held out his hand and she reluctantly handed him the folder. “Go to bed.” She shifted her weight but made no move to leave. “Melinda-”
“I missed you.” It was so quiet he almost missed it, and then for a split-second he was sure he had imagined it. Her lips had barely moved, but her eyes flicked up to his, and they were more open and vulnerable than he had seen in a long time. Without a thought Phil stood and rounded his desk. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Phil rested his forehead on hers. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, subconsciously keeping him close.
“I missed you, too,” Phil murmured. He leaned down so their noses brushed, and Melinda tilted her head up to meet him.
She was tired, and scared. All the secrecy, and not knowing what was happening to him, it was in her lips, soft but insistent against his, and her fingers splayed over his heart. The last thing he wanted to do was break away.
He threaded his fingers through her hair and cupped her cheek, and her shoulders sank. She broke away, looking down at his chest.
“I really can’t put these off, though,” Phil said quietly. He kissed her forehead again. She took his hand on her cheek and kissed his palm.
“I know,” she said against his skin. Neither of them moved.
Melinda’s face fell, and her fingers tightened around his hand. Phil could almost see the last few months weighing on her mind: rebuilding SHIELD while mourning the old one, training Skye and keeping her in the dark about his condition, worrying about the carving, wondering what it meant. The terror that it would drive him mad and she would lose him again.
During the busy days, the workload and the need for secrecy usually kept their anxieties at the back of their minds, but it was late, and they were alone. Melinda pressed her lips into a line. Phil wrapped both her hands in his and held them to his chest.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t ask what he meant, just looked up at him and swept some of his hair to the side. Her fingers trailed down his face and her thumb brushed over his cheekbone. She glanced at his chair, then back up into his eyes.
It had been six years, but he knew what she was asking. He would have felt elated if it hadn’t been borne out of her fear of losing him.
He ignored the spark of terror that lit in his stomach and just said, “Okay.”
“Where did it go?” Jemma spun around, searching the floor, and paled when she found nothing. Fitz looked at Skye, his mouth open in silent dread. Skye held one of Mack’s manuals over her head, ready to throw it at the first opportunity. “Where is it?” she demanded.
“I don’t know!” Jemma said shrilly. Fitz flapped his hands, looking distressed. “It was right there!”
“And now it’s gone!” Skye yelled, and Fitz flinched. Skye lowered her voice. “Did either of you see which direction it went?” Fitzsimmons shook their heads, and Jemma grabbed Fitz’s arm. “Okay,” Skye said. “Okay. It’s just a spider. Just a spider.” She met Jemma’s eyes, then Fitz’s. As one, they all turned and fled.
They bolted up the stairs and sprinted through the base, skidding around corners and barely avoiding colliding with walls.
“Coulson!” Skye was first through his door, and pulled up so suddenly Jemma couldn’t stop in time. She didn’t let go of Fitz, and the three of them collapsed in a pile in Coulson’s doorway.
“Skye- what-?”
“Sh! Move- whose elbow is that-?” Skye hissed instructions and the three of them untangled themselves, not without some quiet swearing from Fitz. They straggled to their feet, muttering and shooting glares at each other.
“Evening.” Three heads snapped to Coulson’s desk, and Fitzsimmons’ eyes widened as they realized what had stopped Skye in her tracks.
Coulson was leaning back in his chair with his glasses on, looking a little haggard but not to a worrying extent. But none of them could really make a confident assessment, since a headful of black hair was mostly concealing his face.
May was straddling Coulson’s lap, and they couldn’t see her face, but she appeared to be asleep with her chin tucked into the crook of his neck. Her arms were around his neck, and Coulson had one hand on her back and a report in the other. He was reading it over May’s shoulder, and as they all stared, he puffed some of May’s hair out of his face.
Fitz’s face was saying it but his mouth couldn’t; he turned to Skye.
“What the he-” Coulson looked at her over the rims of his glasses, and Skye’s mouth snapped shut.
“She was tired,” Coulson said, as if that were a perfectly valid reason to fall asleep on the director’s lap. “Do you three need something?” he asked in an even tone.
May looked tiny in his arms and extremely unthreatening, but they weren’t stupid. Skye expected any second for May to leap out of Coulson’s lap, probably do a flip over his desk, and hold a knife to their throats telling them to keep quiet or they’d regret it.
None of those things happened. May shifted a little and Coulson started rubbing circles on her back. There was a muffled murmur.
“It’s just the kids,” Coulson said quietly. He kissed the side of her head, and she snuggled deeper into him.
Something short-circuited in Skye’s brain. She glanced at Fitzsimmons and found them in a similar situation- Fitz’s mouth was hanging open, and Jemma’s lips were pressed together as if she were about to explode. She was a delicate shade of pink.
“Did you just kiss May?” Skye blurted, as if that were the most baffling part of this experience. Coulson raised his eyebrows like he had had the same thought, but he didn’t comment. He just nodded. “And she didn’t kill you?”
“You can see she didn’t,” Coulson said.
“Not yet.” Skye and Fitzsimmons froze, staring wide-eyed at May’s back, but she just dragged her hand to the top of Coulson’s head and started scratching lazy circles into his scalp. He made a pleased hmming noise.
There was silence for another moment before Coulson looked up at them again. “Do you three need something?” he asked again, a little more brusquely.
“We’re just a bit confused, sir,” Jemma squeaked, and Fitz nodded emphatically. Coulson glanced between the three of them, then let out a sigh of deep disappointment.
“I told you,” he said into May’s hair. “You’re just that far out of my league. I don’t think they’ve even considered it.”
“Considered what?” Coulson gave Skye an unimpressed look like she had hurt his feelings. He used the folder to gesture to a photo on his desk that hadn’t been there a few days ago.
“Pulled that out of storage,” he said as Jemma cautiously stepped forward and picked it up. “Since things are stabilizing around here.” Jemma waited to flip the picture over until Skye and Fitz crowded around her.
Skye almost screeched.
“Is that-?” Fitz smacked her arm and she lowered her voice to a hiss. “Is that- are you married?”
A much younger Coulson and May were on the steps of what looked like some kind of government building. Coulson had May in a bridal carry and her head was thrown back in laughter, and Coulson was looking at her like she had personally hung the stars. He was in a light blue button-up and she was in a white dress, and when Skye snatched the picture and squinted at their hands, she could barely make out silver wedding bands.
“Oh,” Jemma said lamely. “Well, that’s- um- how long have you two been together?”
“Twenty-six years,” Coulson said. “Married twenty-four.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Simmons.” Coulson tossed the folder onto his desk and wrapped his arm around May. He looked between the three of them, and they stared at him in stunned silence. “You know what,” he said, and tilted his head to look down at May, “I think I’ve done enough paperwork for now.”
“Yeah?” Skye could hear the smile in May’s voice.
“Mm-hmm.” Coulson pressed a smacking kiss to May’s cheek, and she giggled. Skye felt indecent just hearing it. Coulson hitched his hands under May’s thighs and stood, and Skye caught a flash of a grin on May’s face as Coulson strode out of the room with May wrapped tightly around him.