Maria Hill and Melinda May One Shots

Trouble With May (nothing new there!)

Coulson checked his list. FitzSimmons, Grant Ward, Skye, himself. One more. Maybe he could convince Melinda but she had refused to go back into the field since Bahrain. It was worth a shot.

She agreed. To fly the Bus. He'd get her back. Properly. One day. 

They were all in the kitchen when Coulson got Melinda on board. She immediately went to the cockpit and sighed as she flipped two switches, turning the heating and music off. Heating made you want to sleep and music got you distracted.

"What do you want, Phil?" she asked, not turning round.

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked.

"Your breathing," she said, flicking autopilot on and following him out of the room. 

When she saw where he was headed she turned around and headed for the safety of the cockpit. Coulson stopped her. He blocked off her exits as she turned, leaving the path to the kitchen free.

"I hate you," she declared, walking into the kitchen to silence. "Very, very much. I'm tempted to slice off your legs and hang you by your intestines from the wing of the plane next to the engine so that very slowly you get shredded into human dust."

Skye and Jemma stared, Fitz gagged and Ward looked on in awe. Melinda rummaged around in the cupboards, couldn't find what she was looking for and gave Coulson a dirty look.

"You might wanna sleep with one eye open, Coulson. She sounds like she could join the mafia," Skye said, nodding her head towards Melinda.

Melinda gave them a sly grin and sat down next to Fitz who edged away from him. "I might decide to hang you lot as well. Maybe I'll sprinkle some herbs on you and cook you up for the starving kids in Africa."

Fitz turned green. "Stop it," he managed, vomiting in the sink.

Melinda caught Coulson's look and shrugged. "No stomach?"

"No, please don't come near me," Fitz begged.

"May, stop it," Coulson scolded.

Melinda sent him a grin. "What? You forced me out here."

"You're name is May?" Skye couldn't help herself from asking. "In Persia that means child of light. What idiot called you May?"

"Melinda May," Melinda said.

"What?"

"That's my name. Melinda May," she repeated.

"Ah. That makes more sense." Skye nodded to herself.

"Wait. Melinda May. The Cavalry?" Ward asked.

Coulson winced.

"Don't call me that," Melinda snapped.

"Why not? It was a huge success, wasn't it?"

"Don't call me that. Ever," Melinda repeated.

"OK, OK," Ward said, stepping down. "But is it true?"

Melinda shot him a glare worthy of the Black Widow. Ward cowed and didn't ask any more questions. Skye, however, did.

"Can you pick a lock in under thirty seconds? Have you ever almost died? Is Coulson your boy - partner? Do you really not need a gun?"

"I've never tried, yes, no, I didn't for Bahrain," Melinda answered, her voice catching slightly on the last one.

"Does everyone know how to play Monopoly?" Fitz asked, bringing the box in from the TV room. 

Everyone knew how to play so they established no new rules. Less than five minutes into the game Coulson accused Melinda of cheating. She had no houses, wasn't the banker, and still she was the richest. 

"What did you roll?" Coulson asked.

"Eight," Melinda said seriously.

"What'd you really roll?"

"Twelve."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. 

"Five."

"We'll go with four," he decided, not looking at the board.

"Ha, skipped over all your houses," Melinda said, playfully shoving him off the couch.

In less than four days, Melinda had withdrawn, refusing to eat, sleep or talk, just sitting in the cockpit, piloting the Bus. When Coulson put it on autopilot she didn't notice. 

Coulson called Fury, he called Maria, hell, he even called Natasha and Clint. None of them could help. Then he found Skye sitting next to Melinda in the co-pilot chair. She was talking quietly.

"I never knew my parents," she was saying. "Grew up in a sucky orphanage and then I got a van and I lived in that for these last five years. SHIELD wanted me cause I hacked their computers. Point is, May, the going gets tough sometimes, and you just have to butcher your way through it, taking down anyone who gets in your way."

Coulson saw the tears glinting on Melinda's cheeks and was about to go over and wipe them away when Skye noticed and gave her a hug. 

"I've been fighting for six years," Melinda murmured.

"Sheesh, what'd you do to send you spiralling down that far?" Skye said.

"I killed her," Melinda said. "I killed her."

Coulson stared in shock. Now he knew what Bahrain had done to her. 

"Skye," he said softly.

She got the hint and they left her alone. Coulson heard her sob just before he fully closed the door. He sighed. He wished she would open up that little bit more.

He found her in his office the next day, knees drawn up to her chin. Her shoulders were shaking and before he knew it he was by her side, holding her tightly. She brought her knees down and rested her head on his chest, trying to hold back the tears. 

Their positions reminded him of Bahrain. 

"I'm calling Clint and Natasha, OK?" he said soothingly.

Melinda didn't seem to have heard him. His shirt felt wet and he knew she was crying. Her shoulders shook ever so slightly; he only saw because he was looking for it. 

"Stay here, alright?" Coulson asked.

She took a deep breath and pulled away, wiping her face. "Don't call them. Please don't call them," she said, more tears sneaking out.

"You need to see them, May. They've been trying to see you for three years," he said. "They'll be here by Thursday. That means you've got two days to get ready to face them. An apology might work."

Melinda snorted. "I can do that."

Coulson regretted ever speaking. "I will ban you from driving the Bus for two weeks."

"You wouldn't dare. I'd fly it into the Empire State Building and say you wouldn't fix the steering until we got back to New York," she warned.

Coulson grinned. It was nice to have May back, even if only for a little while. "I'm calling them." He punched in their joint number and prayed they weren't on a mission. They weren't.

"We'll be there by Thursday, boss," Clint said. "Did she agree to this, by the way?"

"Um, not really," he admitted.

"You mean she asked you not to ring us?" Clint sound dejected.

"Sort of. She didn't really mean it," Coulson tried.

"Well, we're still coming," Natasha said, having obviously snatched the phone from Clint. She hung up but not before he heard Clint groan.

"They're coming on Thursday," he told Melinda.

She groaned and rested her forehead on the table. "Damn you, Coulson." 

He just smiled and left her alone.