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Michael wasn’t entirely sure what to think of this day. Some crazy fuck affiliated with HYDRA (Who the fuck were they? He was fucked if he knew) had blown up the army base his squadron was staying at, and then these other folks (S.H.I.E.L.D they called themselves), had come in and all but saved their asses. They seemed like an okay bunch, but one of their agents in particular caught his eye. She was a slight, brunette Asian woman, but she had kicked more ass than Michael had seen in his entire career as a soldier. Everyone called her May, and she was likely the most gorgeous little thing he’d ever seen.
Two of the other girls, Skye and Jemma, he believes their names are, were patching him up when he finally decided to broach the topic of their older, obviously superior officer.
“So, what’s the deal with May?” he asks.
Skye looks up sharply, but Jemma avoids answering, keeping her attention focused on her medical supplies.
“Excuse me?” she asks, her tone sharp.
“May? You know, what’s her deal? Is she seeing someone?” he asks.
Skye looks mildly revolted. “You do know that she’s old enough to be your mother, right?” she asks as she folds her arms.
“Hey, my mom does not look that hot in a catsuit,” he replies with a wide grin.
“Are all army officers this disgusting?” she asks, slightly revolted. “And anyway, I wouldn’t try anything with May, she could probably kill you in fifty different ways with just her pinkie.”
Michael simply shrugs in response with a grin, and as Jemma tells him that he’s all patched up, he hops off the table and leaves with Skye, who quickly walks away from him once they’re outside of the makeshift med bay. Outside he spots his CO talking with a shorter, almost bald headed man wearing aviator shades. Pfft. That’s the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D? He looks like he could barely even lift a gun. May is standing at his right, her arms held behind her back as she listened to the conversation.
“Thank you for all your help, Director Coulson. I’ll be sure to let General Talbot know what a great amount of help your team has been,” he heard his CO say to the man.
“Think nothing of it. Every now and then, HYDRA rears its ugly head. Don’t worry, S.H.I.E.L.D is always there to put them back down,” the man responds.
Michael rolled his eyes. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D seemed like a total kiss-ass.
As his CO walked away, he watched the Director and May turn and begin walking towards the med bay. They’re talking in hushed tones, and Michael struggles to hear them speak.
“Come on, let me patch you up,” he’s telling her softly.
“It’s fine, just a graze,” she replies.
The bald man tucks away his shades and snorts. “’Just grazes’ don’t bleed like that, May,” he says, and Michael doesn’t miss the way he puts his hand on the small of her back as he ushers her into the med bay. A few seconds later, Jemma comes out, not looking at him twice as she turns in the other direction quickly.
Michael peers through the glass into the room, watching as May sits on the same table he’d just been sat on, and how the Director carefully unzips the zip at the front of her suit before helping her to peel the top half down so that it bunches at her waist. Michael is so glad he’d been able to discreetly follow them, because if he’d thought she was beautiful before, she was downright sexy now, even dirty from fighting. He watched her bite her lip as the Director had to stick some prongs in and pull a bullet from her shoulder, but all the same, Michael couldn’t help but admire her for taking the pain without anaesthesia. The Director quickly put gauze to the now bleeding wound, and he watched her as she winced at the pressure. Eventually the bleeding stemmed and the Director removed the gauze and sterilized the wound before rubbing some sort of cream over it and replacing a fresh pad of gauze over it, taping it down firmly. They were speaking gently again, and he watched May give the Director an almost soft look. She rolled her eyes slightly, looking away from whatever the man said. In a sudden, abrupt move that surprised both Michael and May, the Director seized May’s chin in one hand, the other cradling her cheek bringing her to look at him. He said something to her seriously, and her eyes widened, before she nodded slightly. And then, a smirk appeared on her lips. Michael watched with rapt attention as the slight woman grasped the Director by his tie firmly, tugging him in for a fierce kiss. The man’s hand slipped from her face, on sliding to the back of her head to bury in the loose brunette waves, the other weaving its way down her body to wrap around her waist and bring her against him tightly.
Damn. So that’s what they’d meant when they said to stay away from May.
Oh well, Michael thought with a shrug. Besides, that Skye chick seemed more in his league anyway.
XXX
Coulson guided Melinda into the makeshift med bay with one hand on the small of her back. He helped her hop up onto the table before turning to Jemma, who was already heading over with her tools in hand.
“Don’t worry, Simmons. I’ve got her,” he told the young doctor.
Simmons nodded and left, knowing that May usually liked to only be patched up by Coulson. Coulson turned back to where May was now tiredly slumped on the table. She’d put on a good show, claiming that the bullet had only grazed her, but Phil was smart enough to know that the small hole in the shoulder of her catsuit was anything but a graze. The fact that there was no exit wound worried him even more. He helped her peel out of the skin tight leather, and then set about cleaning her up. She barely flinched when he prodded around and eventually painfully extracted the offending piece of metal. Phil apologised softly when he pressed firmly against the now weeping wound, and she looked up at him with slightly glazed eyes. It was a minute detail, and many of those who knew Melinda would probably think nothing of it, but he knew she was exhausted and in pain, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up after a long soak in the tub.
He sighed.
“Well, I guess we know what Ward’s after now,” she muttered to him.
He hummed in agreement. There was something he so badly wanted to tell her, but he was sure that she’d probably punch him if he did say it.
After another moment of silence he finally blurted it out.
“You can’t keep getting hurt like this in the field, May,” he said as he finished taping the gauze over her wound.
She rolled her eyes.
Phil seized her face, feeling the slight slip of her silky hair through his fingers, and the gritty cement dust and sweaty grime that covered parts of her face.
“I’m serious about this, Melinda. I can’t lose you. I won’t. Promise me you’ll be more careful out there,” he said to her lowly.
Melinda’s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded her compliance.
“Good. Now there’s some fresh cadet outside who’s been ogling you for the last twenty minutes, shall I go deal with him?” he told her.
Melinda smirked wordlessly, and grabbed him firmly by the tie. She pulled him closer and closed her lips over his, her hands slipping down to caress his chest through suit jacket and shirt. She felt his own wander down till his arm wrapped around her waist and the other tangled in her hair, and she smiled and sighed against his mouth. When they broke away, he pressed his forehead against hers, and breathed,
“Love you, Mel.”
She smiled slightly. “I love you too, Phil.”
“Is your admirer gone?” he asked with a cheeky grin, turning to look over his shoulder.
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Yes, your manly display of affection scared him off,” she replied in a dry tone.
“If I recall correctly, you were the one to start that kiss, not me,” he shot back.
“Oh, just shut up and help me get decent,” she said as she rolled her eyes again.