Phil Coulson (![]() ![]() @ 2013-12-08 19:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, melinda may, phil coulson (mcu) |
WHO: Phil Coulson and Melinda May
WHERE: Her office
WHEN: Sunday, December 8th
WHAT: Phil persuades May to join his team.
RATING: PG, light!
STATUS: log; complete.
With the exception of her (thankfully) brief stint as a babysitter, Melinda had lately had a blissfully uneventful time at SHIELD. She spent most of her time doing her regular administrative work each day, clocking in and out like an actual normal person, and not going to work every day with a gun in her pocket. Others might be bored by something like that, but Melinda? She welcomed the normalcy. For the most part, she even managed to ignore the influx of people in New York. She had yet to speak to any of the so-called “refugees” aside from Fury and his Widow, and Melinda was perfectly content for things to remain that way. When someone walked through the office door behind her, she caught the reflection in her monitor and didn’t look up. Instead, she finished typing the report she was working on, then briskly exited the program so that only the SHIELD desktop logo showed on the screen. “Whatever it is - no.” -- "But I come bearing gifts." Phil knew all of SHIELD inside and out. Each building he knew the schematics for, the planes and ships and safehouses included, but that didn't mean he visited all of them before. On the whole, he kept out of the office sections, because when he was recruited, it wasn't to file papers and crunch numbers. Although he was a skilled filer. It was on his resume. Below snappy dresser and expert hand-to-hand combatant. He respected all members of SHIELD; without the people who worked in the cubicles, the system would be thrown off and broken. Still, everyone knew that Melinda May didn't belong behind a desk. He looked around and then pulled one of those rolling chairs in so he could sit down nearby her, offering over a small pink cupcake box from Magnolia's bakery. "Red velvet. Last one in the store today, they sell out fast." Of course Phil would find a way to get something even if it was sold out. He had his ways. "You need to get one of those word of the day calendars. I have a joke of the day, it's the Far Side." -- It was a testament to their friendship that she didn’t pick up the box and throw it in his face for thinking he could bribe her into agreeing to go along with whatever he was there to ask. Rather than reply, her eyes finally slid over to him, ignoring the promised cupcake entirely, then returned to her screen. Reaching out to one side, she picked up a folder and opened it to yet another report, preparing to key the final outcome into the system. When he changed the conversation to calendars, she only rolled her eyes a little, not picking up the bait except to question monotonously, “The far side of what?” Of course, Melinda was familiar with the comic – in fact, it was one she generally enjoyed reading – but pretending ignorance always seemed the best way to end conversations and get people to leave you alone. -- They were old enough friends that they both knew they were simply moving around a subject, and they would get to the heart of it eventually. Phil was going to keep lightly joking, and she was going to keep being anti-social, but the end result was inevitable. He gave her a look when she pretended not to know the Far Side, because Melinda May had a much better sense of humor than she showed. It used to be more obvious, before her nickname was given, although always understated. He knew it was still in there. "The far side of whatever it takes to get you to listen instead of contemplate ways to stab me with the nearest pen." He didn't stop her from going through files if that's what she wanted to do, when he knew she was listening regardless. "I need your help." -- May was perfectly content to draw out the inevitable as long as possible – when it came to conversations and briefings, at least. When it came to actual situations, she was more of the “get it done” type. And she always had; until that one time, at least. Her eyes were flat and expressionless as she regarded him, though she did go so far as to pick up a pen and press the end of it lightly with her thumb. Marking her initials on the corner of the report in front of her, she set the folder aside, then actually hesitated at Phil’s next words. “You. Need my help.” He’d said the one thing that might make her more willing to listen, and her gaze warmed just a bit. “What is it?” They both knew she’d refuse if it was combat, so she really hoped that wasn’t going to be the case. -- His mouth quirked when she firmly pressed on the pen. May's body language spoke clearly all on its own, so sometimes it felt like he was having a conversation with her even when they weren't talking. Or she wasn't talking. Phil liked to talk. He could chatter with the best of them, although he usually had a characteristic calm to go with it. Outside of his utter inability to keep it together around Steve Rogers. "I have a mission on the 11th. Low threat, I'm taking in a small team to Niganda. We have some intel on a scientist who may be creating something that makes people very nervous." Phil could only give so much information as he went, and she knew that. Sometimes the barebones was all a handler was authorized to explain. "But it'll be me and the two lab techs, Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. You can look up their files on your own, if you like. Possibly another agent I am looking into for protection." He nudged the cupcake box toward her again. "We need a pilot." -- As he described his mission, Melinda’s eyes never wavered from her work. She was listening, though anyone who wasn’t Phil wouldn’t know that and would have probably given up and left the room already. She didn’t want to go out in the field, yet at the moment Phil seemed fairly confident that she wouldn’t see any combat. Her lips pressed together in a hard line as she thought about it for a few minutes. Finally, she looked up at him, dark eyes studying him. “I’ll think about it,” Melinda stated. It wasn’t confirmation, but...it wasn’t a refusal, either. -- "Sitwell will probably come along too. You know you can't resist our buddy cop banter." Phil meant that he was hoping not to run into trouble, and while he knew he could count on May if it did come, having him and another agent to take point would take the pressure off. He respected her boundaries and choices, and her reasons for doing it. "A lot of our newer agents are going off to the war in Asgard. We're getting strapped for people, until it's over." Phil supported the idea of the refuges volunteering, there were a lot of heroes and vigilantes who could do a lot of good. On the other hand, the Earth was back to only a handful of protectors, and he wasn't certain how many regular updates they'd get from the other side. It was a concern, although it didn't show that way on his face. At least this distracted him from the bigger concerns, like how he hadn't felt right in a year, since he came back. -- Letting out a faint sigh, Melinda kept her gaze locked on his as he spoke. Her eyes didn’t shift away or show any emotions whatsoever with the exception of the faintest glimmer of “really?”. When Phil mentioned that others had volunteered, she tilted her head slightly. “I don’t blame them. Thor’s dreamy,” she commented, looking back to her screen. For several seconds, she considered the assignment, and the fact that he had actually come to ask her before her participation became a formal order. Finally, she rolled her eyes and took the cupcake box, setting it reverently to one side as she glanced at him. “Fine. The eleventh.” -- "I think people just get distracted by the cape and hammer. He's really just a guy. A very tall guy." Phil may or may not be refuting the godliness of Thor for a reason that only other men dealing with him might understand. Then again put Captain Rogers in front of him and he'd probably give the women a run for their money in gushing. He was a fanboy through and through. "But I understand, maybe it's an Asgardian trait. The Lady Sif is … exceptional herself." Phil talked to her a few times and each time he fell along the lines of understanding why poems were written about her back in ancient times. He smiled when she agreed. The last thing he wanted to do was fall back on it being an order, because it was going to be difficult enough recruiting the other person he had in mind. But May was first on his list. If all went to plan she could get out of the office without needing to break her non-combat rule. "I appreciate it, Melinda. At least it's not babysitting fake Fury." -- “A very tall guy with an awfully nice physique,” she replied just as calmly, though her face was still fairly expressionless. “And I can’t exactly speak from experience with Sif, but if she’s anything like him, I don’t doubt that’s true.” Melinda had the distinct feeling that this Niganda mission most likely wouldn’t go as easy as Phil was trying to paint it, but she’d go anyway. If anything, she was still worried about her friend - he was one of the few she had, actually, and she knew he hadn’t quite been himself since Loki’s attack. Not that she expected him to be, of course, but in all honesty Melinda would feel better if she could keep an eye on him. And if going on this mission meant she could do that, so much the better. “True. That was a dull assignment. Not that I’m jumping for interesting ones, just now.” -- Phil ignored the part about Thor, since he knew even Hill appreciated him, and Hill was a hard nut to crack that way. Maybe it was the long hair, like Samson. "Things aren't so bad when you have two Norse gods and Captain America in your phone contacts." He wasn't the type to boast most of the time ... but this was a special case. He literally walked around with gods and heroes. It was a dream come true, or the dream of a little Phil Coulson, now to fruition in his middle age. "Well I aim to make sure this is a boring one too. At the least it'll be an interesting trip, with FitzSimmons talking non-stop." He liked them both, although even his eyes glazed over after a certain point in science talk. Phil got back to his feet since his mission was accomplished and smiled at her. "Thanks. I'll feel better, knowing you're behind the wheel, so to speak." -- Melinda opted not to comment on the bragging on Phil’s part, though secretly she didn’t mind it. Not really. It was almost as though nothing had ever happened, to either of them. She hadn’t had to do things she never wanted to repeat and he hadn’t been stabbed through the heart. “FitzSimmons. Great,” she muttered, her eyes drifting back to the cupcake. “That better be fresh.” Pushing her a stray dark strand of hair behind her ear, she shook her head. Lifting her gaze when he stood, she pursed her lips and gave him an almost smile. “Yes, I’m certain you’re simply jumping for joy. Now if you don’t mind, some of us do have some work we have to get back to.” -- "Please, I take my bribery seriously. That's fresh from the store." Phil knew a Melinda May smile when he saw one. "I'd jump for joy right now, except I have to at least pretend I have dignity in the office. I'll leap during off-hours." He winked at her and then went back on the move. There were still a few things he had to take care of before contacting the full team. |