Chapter Text
Academy, n.
When he gets accepted into the academy, he’s so excited that he forgets he’s washing Lola and promptly sprays himself in the face with water.
He thinks he knows what the academy is going to entail. Saving the world, taking down bad guys, and shooting people from his secret laser-pen. Of course, looking back at this he knows the lines are more blurred. Sometimes the world doesn’t want to be saved. Sometimes the line between good and bad blurs, and he lays there at 3 in the morning wondering about all the ‘what ifs.”
But most of all, in all his wild imaginations of SHIELD, he never thought he would meet someone like Melinda May.
(The laser-pen never disappoints though.)
Air Vent, n.
The first time Phil Coulson met Melinda May was in an air vent. Sure, he had heard of her in his first year. May, the kickass Asian girl that brought Johnson to his knees, the one that was rumored to have pranked Peggy Carter herself. But he’d always assumed that they were running in different orbits and besides, the academy schedule hardly had time for him to go out and get a social life.
Then he met her in the air vents of the academy.
Don’t get him wrong- He’s not usually the type of person to do… this. But his friend had insisted on trying to break into their espionage test scores, and he had foolishly accepted to be lookout. Well, maybe not that foolishly now.
“What are you doing here?” They both blurted out, in loud whispers.
“Well that’s a stupid question.” She retorted. “I’m here so I can dump eggs on Henderson. That asshole had it coming.”
“Well that’s um, that’s nice-” Phil started.
“Oh, I’m Phil by the way.” He added.
“May. But you can call me Melinda.”
“I know.” He blurted out without thinking.
May, no, Melinda raised her eyebrow. “You know?”
“Well uh I mean you’re pretty famous in the academy and I’ve, I’ve heard of some of the things you’ve done but I haven’t been a stalker or anything…” Phil Coulson stammered.
She smirked.
“You’re cool. We should work together sometime. But for now, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Oh yeah, right um, just excuse me…” A flustered Phil quickly crawled along the air vents.
Bribe, v.
The first time Coulson went into May’s dorm, he brought a bottle of wine and sat awkwardly perched at the edge of a seat, only relaxing when she asked if he planning on getting her drunk.
“Because if you are it’s going to take much more than a bottle of wine for me to spill my secrets.”
“…Damn my plan was foiled.”
The second time Coulson went to May’s dorm, he brought a bottle of wine and sat awkwardly perched at the edge of the bed.
“You know you’re just coming to my dorm right? You don’t have to do all this old fashioned gift giving stuff.”
“How else am I going to charm you into spilling all your secrets?”
“2/10 for execution but 7/10 for effort.” She said, before grabbing two glasses from her drawer and settling down to go through the notes from combat.
The third time Coulson went to May’s dorm, he brought a box of green tea, and sat cross-legged on the floor.
“As a trained agent in training do you really think you can bribe me with tea? Because you are 100% correct damn it.”
Believe, v.
“Oh god I’m going my practical exam today,” Grumbled Melinda, hiding her face beneath a mountain of books. “Please kill me now.”
“Sorry euthanasia is illegal.” Replied Coulson.
“I would kick you right now but animal abuse is bad.”
“It’s okay animals hitting each other is usually considered apart of nature.”
May looked puzzled. “Why would you sink yourself further?”
“So I can be the same height as you.” Coulson replied with a straight face before collapsing in a fit of giggles as May swung a pillow over his face.
“See? You can attack a trained agent-in-training with only a pillow. Don’t worry, I believe in you.”
“Believe is an interesting word.”
“How so?”
“Well it’s just a word isn’t it? There’s no value to it and yet it’s supposed to calm someone down.”
“I’m not saying it to relax you or anything. I’m just stating it as a fact.”
“Oh dear Coulson, know the different between fact and opinion?”
Coulson shrugged, smiling. “You can jest all you want, but the fact remains that I, Phillip J. Coulson believe in you.”
“What is you’re middle name anyways? Justice? Jay? Justin? Junior?”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Like…a practical exam?”
“Jackass.” Cursed Melinda as she quickly ran out the door.
“Is jackass you’re middle name?” Asked Melinda two seconds later as she popped her head back in the door.
Coca-Cola, n.
For a brief period in his life, Phil was an avid collector of bottle tops. He had glued them carefully onto a large wooden board that hung across his room, although he had to throw them away after an insect infestation got the better of them.
He still keeps some of his favorite bottle caps. Not because of their aestheticism or value, but because of the memories. Like this Coca-Cola one. He remembers the first time he hangs out with Melinda May. He remembers the lazy summertime heat, the cool condensation that was wrapped around the glass bottles. He remembers looking at the sun streaming in between her hair, looking at her, and thinking about how lucky he got.
Cocaine in Cookie Jars
Their first mission together was…a train wreck to say the least. They had spent years training together, preparing for every situation from angry mobs of grandparents to bad traffic. And yet here he was, alone in a foreign country, running away from various members of the mafia, and trying desperately to find May who, for all he knew, could be bleeding out from multiple stab wounds.
No. He thought furiously to himself as he rounded another corner. There was no way May could’ve died. She was the best fighter, for Christ’s sake. But there’s always that ‘what if,’ that gets his heart hammering wildly in his chest, that spurs him to weave between alleyways.
But the mafia, they know this place. This is their domain, and they are making it very clear that foreigners are not invited.
***
It had all started at the airport. The plane had been delayed for hours after poor weather, and they had to be at the undisclosed location by 6. Any later, and the insider would leave in order to avoid suspicion. As they stepped off the plane, Phil quickly grabbed his well-worn leather suitcase and hailed a cab.
When Phil Coulson had opened his suitcase to find armed guns where his clothes should’ve been and cocaine in a cookie jar, he knew he had fucked up real bad. By the time he realized he had most definitely stuffed a copy of his location in his suitcase, he could feel the safety go off in the gun pressed to his head.
Luckily, May chose this time to emerge from the corner and land a solid kick on the aggressor behind him. And then they ran-
-Straight into the 15 mafia members waiting in the corridor.
Holy shit these guys do not fuck around was Phil’s last thought before the two of them ran straight out of a nearby window. They landed butts first on the floor, bruised but otherwise unharmed.
“Split up and meet at location?” Yelled Phil as they weaved amongst intense gunfire.
May nodded, and then she was gone.
***
Later, an exhausted Phil Coulson trailed along the pier. He had pretty much managed to shake off the mafia, but there was no sign of May at the pier. (Their default “location” in new areas was to find the largest body of water. This location proved problematic at times, but no better system was ever developed.)
“PHILLIP COULSON GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER HERE.”
He turned around in a confused circle, trying to find the source of the familiar voice. Then, he saw a small figure huddled on an island several kilometers away from shore. Grabbing a nearby boat, he hot-wired the engine and zoomed towards the island.
Carefully maneuvering his boat over the boots of defeated mafia members, he finally reached Melinda May.
“Well it’s about time.” She huffed, as she picked up a bundle of papers and hopped onto the boat. “Our informant passed these to me,” she explained. “He got away a few minutes ago, and hopefully the mafia boss will believe his escape story.”
That was Phil’s signal to start moving. Halfway across the ocean, Phil turned around in curiosity.
“Why didn’t you just swim back?” He asked.
She looked at him like she wanted to toss him overboard.
“Oh gee Coulson, because paper won’t be ruined if I duck it in water.” She replied, rolling her eyes.
“…Right.”
They moved in silence for a while.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“I’m really glad you’re alive.”
“Me too.”
Desire, v
He first feels desire towards Melinda when she has him pinned under the training mats, her body pressed tantalisingly close against his. He can hear her heavy breathing, her chest rising with every breath. Fuck.
After that, she’s all he can think about.
He feels desire as he watches her attack the punching bag. His breath hitches when she stares directly at her, his heart skips a beat when she smiles at him. His face flushes when she nibbles at her lip, his eyes grow dark when she smirks at him.
Melinda May is becoming a problem and he’s determined to resolve it.
He tries to distance himself, spend less time alone with her. He makes up excuses to bail out on hangouts, crosses the gym and the library off his frequently visited locations. And it works, for a while. But god, it’s just so…boring. He spends a good part of his evening just staring at the ceiling above his bed, or counting the seeds on his burger. (173 on average) The highlight of his week is hanging out with John at the bar, and hauling his drunken ass back home.
So the next time May tentatively asks to hang out, he jumps eagerly to the offer. He can’t keep himself away, can’t break himself out of orbit. Melinda May is his problem and his solution and if the price of a friendship with May is butterflies in his stomach, then so be it.
Death, n.
He remembers the day he and May first discussed death. They had just been aimlessly sitting outside on top of a grassy hill for the whole day, and now the sky was beginning to swell and darken.
“How do you think you’ll die?” Asked Phil aimlessly, looking over at her.
“Do you know what? I hope it’s in the line of battle.” She replied, still staring at the sky.
There was a pause, before Coulson spoke again.
“Yeah.”