Content: After three months of searching for Daisy, Coulson finally succeeded in bringing her back home, catching a bullet in the chest in the process. May is not happy.

Disclaimer: Marvel's characters. My sentimental "what-if?" scenario.

May did not react when Coulson woke up in the medical bay of the new SHIELD facility. She continued staring at a fixed spot on his chest where the surgical staff had removed the 9mm round embedded two inches to the right of his aorta. If he did not know better, he would think that she hadn't noticed his eyes were open. When he opened his mouth to get her attention, she spoke.

"She's going to stay, at least for a little while."

He allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. A bullet wound was a small price to pay if it meant that Daisy was back on the team.

May's answering frown indicated that she did not agree.

"Getting a massive chest wound to get people to do want you want is a card you've played before, Phil," she admonished.

"That was low."

He could see the fine muscles at the hollow of her throat contract as she swallowed a retort. She was angry.

Anger was a haven for May. Its heat was a comforting balm, a fire that kept grief and fear at bay. She had forgiven him for dying once. Throwing himself into the direct line of fire when she had worked for the better part of two years to bring him back was an unpardonable offense.

The pain he felt blossom and ache in his chest had nothing to do with the two broken ribs and collapsed lung.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She would not look at him.

"May, I can't keep doing this," he said.

She snapped to attention and fixed him with a stare, her eyes bright with dark fire.

"Martyring yourself for the greater good?" May snapped. "Well we can both agree on that at least."

Coulson squelched the choler that threatened to rise to the surface. She was baiting him so he would lash out. He was not going to make it that easy.

"No," he said. "Incidents like this are part of the job. I'm not going to stop doing my job because I had a close call."

He focused on a point just past her, fighting against the narcotics in his blood that jumbled his words and confused his thoughts. This, he had to get just right.

"You told me once that we can't dwell on the decisions that we've made in the past. We can only move forward. We do what we know to be right with the information we have at the time."

May's stance relaxed just a fraction as she waited to hear where this was going.

"In the past, I've kept you at arms' length because I thought it was the right thing to do," he continued. "We are agents. Everything else comes second. It always has. But you and I have given S.H.I.E.L.D. everything. We've lost friends and relationships because of this job. We've given up a chance at normal lives. All because we were upholding an oath that we took when we were in our early twenties."

"Are you saying you regret that?" She asked. "You regret joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"No," he answered resolutely. "I'm saying that, for the first time since I joined the agency, there's something that I'm not willing to give up for S.H.I.E.L.D.: you."

They were the last line of defense against a global tyranny born out of fear. There were no more contingency plans. No more soft retirements. No guarantees of a happy ending.

In the darkness of these last few months, these were the facts that had been thrown into sharp relief. Though she had not been with him, they were fighting the same battle. She had to have realized it as well.

He watched anger drain from her, the blush in her cheeks fading to pallor.

"Phil…"

"I can't do my job anymore if it means not being with you," he said. "These last three months have sucked, Melinda."

It was an understatement for the ages.

Any remnants of the anger May felt dissolved in a short bark of disbelief and she sat on the edge of his bed.

"There was no one to talk to but Mack," he continued. "Don't get me wrong, the guy is great, but absolutely no sense of humor."

"I have no sense of humor," May countered huskily.

"You laugh at my jokes," Coulson argued.

"I roll my eyes at your jokes."

"Same thing," he said. "I missed you. I missed talking to you and working with you and having you there to yell at me when I screwed up."

"I missed yelling at you when you screwed up," May admitted.

"I kept coming back to this empty apartment and for some reason, I expected you to be standing there. I guess it's because for the last three years, you always have been there. I knew it was going to be rough without the team. But at the end of the day, you're the only one I want to see. The only one I want to be with. And I can't… do that again," he concluded.

"Then don't," she said simply.

Coulson watched with detached fascination as she took his hand in her own. He had been so preoccupied with what he was going to say when he saw her again that he did not dare to think about anything beyond getting the words out.

"Scoot over," she commanded.

He obeyed, wincing as his shifting weight reminded him of the hole in his chest. May laid on her side facing him. His pulse thundered in his ears as he watched her bring his hand to her lips. The kiss was placed on his knuckles with gentle precision. Ignoring the pain in his side, he reached over with his free hand and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"I love you, Melinda."

She covered his lips with her own in reply and he savored her taste. When she pulled away, his eyes stayed closed. If he did not open them, he could stay right here and remember her as she was in this moment.

Tomorrow, he would be released from the medical bay. Simmons would send him off with a rehabilitation regiment and an assortment of painkillers. Mack would give him a tour of the new base and he would have to catch up on three months' worth of intel and procedure. Joey and Elena would bring him up to speed on the Secret Warrior's Initiative's progress and Fitz would outfit him with all of the new upgrades to his prosthetic hand. May would go back out into the field.

One day, she might not come back. Or maybe he would duck too late, move too slowly, or just catch a bullet meant for someone else. If he kept his eyes closed, he would not have to watch her leave, would not have to be without her again.

"I love you too," she whispered.

He opened his eyes and she was there beside him.

It was enough to make him believe he could face tomorrow.

Author's Note: This was originally written as the epilogue to "Light My Way" long before I had developed the story completely. After awhile, it was clear that this scenario did not fit with the events that ended up in the final draft, so it was scrapped.

I'm usually really hesitant to "resolve" unresolved sexual tension between established characters, so this is new territory for me. Sorry for the cheesiness! Sometimes I can't help myself.