Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7787197.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Agents_of_S.H.I.E.L.D._(TV), Marvel_Cinematic_Universe
  Relationship:
      Phil_Coulson/Melinda_May, Phil_Coulson_&_Melinda_May
  Character:
      Phil_Coulson, Melinda_May, Peggy_Carter
  Additional Tags:
      Post-Season/Series_03, Fluff_and_Smut, Director_Phil_Coulson, Phil_Needs
      a_Hug, Melinda_May_Is_a_Good_Bro, Whiskey_&_Scotch, Drinking_to_Cope, May
      Feels, Desk_Sex, I_Tried
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-08-16 Chapters: 1/2 Words: 1284
****** Zugunruhe ******
by howdoyourespond
Summary
     Phil Coulson's last day as director of S.H.I.E.L.D
Notes
     Zugunruhe is a German compound word consisting of Zug (move,
     migration) and Unruhe (anxiety, restlessness). In ethology it
     describes the agitated state of migratory animals during the
     migration period. Zugunruhe occurs during the dark period only.
      
     ♥ ✌ ♥ ✌ Many hugs and kisses to the amazing lola381pce for her
     support, encouragement and suggestions. There are no word that could
     express my gratitude.♥ ✌ ♥ ✌
See the end of the work for more notes
                                    [edit]
 
He tore off another wad of paper and wrapped it around the walkie-talkie
wristwatch with meticulous care. The director’s office used to be a display of
S.H.I.E.L.D history, a shamble of old spy gear, military equipment and antique
memorabilia. Coulson liked old items, they all had a story and an adventure to
tell. Tonight, the large room was almost empty except for the huge pile of
cardboard boxes standing next to the oak executive desk. His former desk.
He grabbed the Edwardian magnifying glass, another treasure from his
collection. He gently stroked the handle and felt the delicate texture of ivory
and silver plate under his fingers. It had belonged to Peggy Carter. The patina
was magnificent. He smelt the frame. There was an elegance to things back then.
In an absurd present and an uncertain future, he found an undeniable comfort in
these fragments from the past.
A streak of evening sun peeped through the window and illuminated the shelf
where the Boeing C-17 model that May gave him for his birthday stood, captured
in mid-flight at an angle the specialist would be proud of. The Bus. He stared
at it for a while. It reminded him of a time that seemed so long ago. A time
when everything seemed so much simpler.
A feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. “The Bus.”
He turned around to see Melinda May leaning against the door frame, holding a
bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.” She walked into the office unable to hide a smirk of
satisfaction. Setting the two glasses on the desk, Melinda poured two large
doses of Balvenie and handed one to Phil. “I miss the Bus too.”
Phil tilted his glass toward her and nodded before taking a large sip. He felt
the warmth of the alcohol making its way down his throat. “The first sip is
always the best.”
Melinda sat on the desk. “The second is just as good, if you ask me.”
She made him smile. It was going to be a long night.
The Playground was unusually quiet. Everything had already changed, but here
they were together in his office, one last time. Their eyes turned from each
other, to take in the large empty room before them. They fell into a
comfortable silence and just stayed there, side by side, sipping their drinks
slowly.
Phil knew she was trying to make him feel better. He was touched she had cared
enough to take the time to come. He felt better now Melinda was here. He always
felt better when Melinda was here.
Melinda refilled his glass without a word or a second thought. Had this been an
ordinary day, they would have discussed a mission or she would have helped him
with planning a strategy. Tonight, however, none of these considerations seemed
to matter.
“You were the one that put the shaving cream on Fitz’s face, weren't you?”
The amused scowl crossing her face gave him the answer.
“That's what I thought.”
They both laughed genuinely. Phil’s heart seemed to quicken at the sound of her
laughter. He remembered a time when Melinda was the queen of pranks. This part
of her was still there somewhere, buried deep inside, even after everything
they’ve been through.
“And when you wrapped Garrett in cellophane... In the Academy hall!”
She raised her nose, looking proud. “Well, he was drunk. That was easy.”
“He was pretty pissed off!”
“He was a jerk. He deserved it.” She made a pause and added, “Part of his
training program.”
Phil raised his glass. “You’re going to be an amazing instructor, May!”
They were so caught up in their own bubble, they hadn't even noticed that the
room was getting dark. Melinda got up and switched on the light. Phil couldn't
help but notice how beautiful she was standing there, under the neon glow, her
long dark hair spilling down her back, wearing this simple grey tank top tucked
into fitted black jeans.
A wave of desire swept through him. He blamed it on the whisky, clenched his
jaw and took another sip as she came back over to him.
“You were an amazing director.”
Phil snorted and looked down. He made so many mistakes and had so many regrets.
On this day of reckoning, he felt each decision he took and each orders he gave
hammering in his head as constant reminder of his failures. He wished things
had turned out differently.
He suddenly felt Melinda’s hand on his shoulder. He was surprised by her
gesture but kept staring at his glass, unable to find the strength to look at
her.
“Phil, you were great. You started from scratch. You never gave up.” She paused
and then continued. “You saved S.H.I.E.L.D, you stubborn bastard.” She spoke in
a whisper, but with such an intensity that he was almost willing to believe
her.
He looked up and her eyes caught his. He felt vulnerable and he hated it. He
offered his hand and without taking her eyes from him, she took it. The relief
he felt as his fingers closed over hers instinctively brought him closer and,
suddenly, they were hugging.
He held her as tightly as he could as she tucked her face into the curve of his
neck. The warmth of her body made his senses tingle with both lust and relief.
He pressed his nose against her hair, inhaling the vanilla scent. He needed her
more than he could ever admit. He loved how her small body fitted in his arms
perfectly as she was always meant to be there. He loved the way her soft breath
felt against his neck.
“It's almost a relief to be back on the field, you know,” He mumbled in her
hair. “All I want right now is to find Skye.”
“Daisy”
“Daisy!” He would never get used to it.
She pulled away from their embrace and a soft smile stretched onto her face.
“Of course, you do. You stupid, stubborn bastard!”
They were just inches apart. He was so grateful to have her in his life.
Especially tonight of all nights, in his last minutes as director. He leaned
over and gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you.” He hoped she understood how
much he meant it.
He looked at her lips then into her eyes, and then his gaze traveled down to
her slightly parted lips once more. They were so close he could almost taste
them.
He promised himself so long ago not give in to this desperate urge to kiss her.
He had dreamed about those lips so many times. He had played in his head this
moment over and over, wondering how it would feel, where it would happen and
how she would react. He had kissed her so many times, in so many places in his
forbidden fantasies.
Kissing Melinda was such a dream that the idea itself had become unreal.
He felt overwhelmed by his needs all too long denied but he knew what was
happening. It wouldn’t be appropriate. They had been drinking. It was wrong on
so many levels. They had boundaries. He needed to respect that. He respected
her too much.
He closed his eyes and took a step back. Melinda put her half empty glass on
the desk.
“I guess I should get some sleep.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Melinda.” Her face was blank and unreadable but he
immediately regretted this moment of confusion.
“No worries.”
He watched her leave the office and stood motionless as he listened to the
sound of her footsteps slowly fading away.
End Notes
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