Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or any of its characters used in this story. What is written here is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this story.
She watched him chop up the vegetables for dinner. He was always the cook between the two of them. Ever since she tried making breakfast and wound up with the fire department in their kitchen, he had taken it upon himself to make their meals.
Melinda didn't have any problem with that. The sight of her husband in the kitchen, his arms firm as he sliced the carrots—it's doing things to her body and she's grateful their daughter's still not home from babysitting Hope Mackenzie next door.
She walked quietly over to her husband who was still unaware of her presence. He had his back to her, and had put the vegetable aside to sprinkle some last minute spices on a steak.
Slowly, Melinda slipped her arms around Phil's waist. He jumped in surprise.
"Hi, honey," Melinda said softly.
Phil relaxed in her arms. "Jeez. I hate it when you use your spy skills on me. Couldn't even make a sound, huh?"
"Sorry. I didn't want to disturb you."
Phil snorted, not buying what she was saying. "But you decided to disturb me now and my masterchef steak because..."
Melinda nuzzled her lips against the crook of Phil's neck.
"Ah. I see. Couldn't resist the masterchef in action, could you?"
Melinda broke into a laugh. "You're so full of yourself." She drew away, letting Phil get back to his meat.
"How was work?" he asked her as Melinda leaned against the island counter opposite Phil in the middle of the kitchen. "Any world catastrophe that you managed to stop but can't tell me about?" He turned around to look at her.
Melinda cocked a brow at her husband, letting her silence answer the question.
"Right," said Phil, turning his back on her again. "Well, since I'm the only one who can talk about his work in this relationship, let me tell you that I think I'm really getting the message across to my students. Sure there's the usual dissenting teenager willing to give inhumans a chance but I just shut them down with vague anecdotes about your missions out in the field, the ones you can neither confirm nor deny," he said with a laugh.
Melinda chuckled walking over to Phil. "As long as you get the message drilled into their young brains." She stole one sliced carrot and quickly popped it in her mouth before Phil could stop her.
"Hey," cried Phil. He pointed a pepper shaker at her. "If you keep doing that there won't be any left for Kaya. And you know she loves her carrots."
Melinda conceded. She continued to watch Phil, her eyes roving from his hands to his forearms and up to his lips which were quirked in concentration. "Kaya still not home from babysitting Hope?"
Phil shook his head, eyes not leaving his work.
"Well," came Melinda's reply, her voice dropping to a seductive tone. "Wanna take advantage of that, masterchef?"
Phil glanced at his wife. "And ignore the steak that I've been marinating in the fridge for two days?"
Melinda smirked, "Come on, Phil. You're really choosing some steak over me?"
Sometimes, his wife's powers to make him do things she wanted was unnerving. Not that Phil was ever unwilling.
He patted his hands over his apron and snaked a hand around Melinda's waist. She was still wearing her heeled boots, making her almost just as tall as Phil. She looked up, her gaze lingering on his lips.
And he kissed her.
Phil Coulson would never get tired of the sensation of kissing Melinda May. She tasted of tea, the kind she drank in place of coffee. Each graze of her tongue inside his mouth jolted him awake, pulled him deeper, threatened to drown him and yet he didn't care.
Sometimes it felt too good to be true, like she would disappear at any moment, and it only made him want her more.
Melinda pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. They wound up moving backwards, Melinda's back against the countertop of the island.
Phil helped Melinda hoist herself up on the counter. Something slid to the floor but neither of them cared.
It had been so long since they managed any alone time. Melinda being a spy and the two of them raising a teenager tended to put a damper on alone times.
Melinda wrapped her legs around Phil's waist, broke away from his lips momentarily, and leaned her forehead against his.
"Kaya can walk in on us at any minute," she said, breathless.
"You're the one who suggested we do some...catching up," Phil pointed out, matching his breath with hers.
Melinda hummed. "I never said right here."
Phil pecked her lips. "Sorry. He couldn't wait." He glanced down to a very visible bulge in his pants.
A choking sound made the couple look away and straight at their teenage daughter who had both palms pressed against her ears.
"Augh. That's just gross," stated Kaya, cringing. "Really, dad? Mom? I am never gonna unhear that. And In the kitchen? We eat here!" She dropped her hands to her side.
Phil mumbled something along the lines of simply wanting to cook dinner.
"It's a good thing I walked in when I did. Who knew what would've happened next." Kaya shuddered. "At least this wasn't like last time..."
Melinda and Phil let their daughter spew. Their teenager was known to overreact and dramatize everything.
Melinda hopped down to the ground and Phil picked up the objects that fell to the floor—they turned out to be placemats.
"She gets this from you, you know. All this talking," Melinda softly said to Phil.
"Me? It's all Daisy's doing. She wasn't the best person to babysit Kaya."
They returned their attention to their daughter who was still talking.
"Are you done?" interrupted Melinda, getting the placemats from Phil and handing them to her daughter.
Kaya made one more retching sound and then straightened up. "Now, I'm done." She took the placemats and began putting them on the dining table while Phil went back to the steak, finally cooking it.
"How was Hope?" he asked.
"The cutest ever. She was going on about marrying this classmate of hers."
"And school?" asked Melinda.
Kaya shrugged, focusing on setting the table than looking at her parents. "Same, same."
Melinda and Phil exchanged looks.
"Now, you have to tell us."
Kaya busied herself with getting the drinking glasses from the cupboard, avoiding her parents' interrogation. "There's nothing to tell. Just your usual day at high school. You know, boring lectures, boring teachers. Gym was fun, I punched a guy. Is that Phil's Special Masterchef Steak? Yum!"
"Yes, it is," replied Phil, tearing his eyes away from the steak. "I marinated it for two days. But you're trying to distract me. You did what?"
Kaya looked away from her father only to find herself under her mother's scrutinizing gaze. She focused on getting the glasses in her hands to the dining table instead.
"Punched a guy… in his face," Kaya mumbled in a low voice. But her father heard her all the same.
"Kaya!" scolded Phil.
Kaya huffed, roughly setting the glasses down. "He grabbed Kate's arm when she refused to go out with him for the third time. He couldn't take a hint!"
"Did you break his nose?" asked Melinda with a smirk.
"Melinda!" scolded Phil once more.
"It's a reasonable question! I need to know if our daughter can defend herself properly."
Both mom and dad faced Kaya who immediately dropped the upturned quirk of her lips.
"Well, did you?" asked Phil.
"Yes," muttered kaya, looking down.
"Good," said Phil, going back to his steak again, flipping it over.
Kaya looked up abruptly. "What? You're not mad?" Her eyes darted to her mom who was looking mighty pleased, and then to her dad who was… also brimming with pride? She couldn't tell if that was directed at her or at his steak which was smelling really good.
Phil rounded the counter and walked over to his daughter. "Of course, I am. As a parent, it's my job to remind you that violence is never the answer. But you stood up against a bully which makes me really proud too."
Kaya grinned, "he cried."
"Good girl," Melinda softly said to her daughter.
"Great! Now that I know you guys aren't mad, I have to let you know that Principal McTaggart wants me to apologize to Mark—"
"What?" cried Melinda.
"—because the school has a—"
"—nonviolence policy," finished Phil. He worked at the same school. He knew the drill. "You owe him an unreserved apology."
"For standing up to him and protecting someone he was harassing?" came Melinda's rhetorical remark.
"Yep," said Kaya, popping the P. She was as miffed as her mom was but she had gotten the whole afternoon to process it. "They don't do it like Hydra."
"Oh, if I ran Hydra the same way McTaggart runs that school, the whole world would be in chaos. Inhumans everywhere."
"Don't worry. I can find a way around this," reassured Phil. "Clara's a feminist. She would never do something to undermine gender equality. That and I'm her favorite teacher."
Kaya saw her mom roll her eyes good naturedly at her dad. The teenager pressed her lips together, trying hard not to giggle.
"I mean, just ask your mom," continued Phil.
Kaya frowned, spotting something. "Dad,"
"She always said I had a way with words, especially with women. I suspect that's one of the reasons she married me. And even Clara McTaggart isn't immune to my—"
"Dad!"
"What?"
Kaya pointed behind him. "Your steak."
Phil turned to his 2-day marinated steak and gaped at the unusual density of smoke rising from it.
"Damn it." His steak was more than well-done it seemed.
Kaya shook her head. "You're turning into mom."
"Melinda," Phil called out, running over and quickly switching off the stove. "Call—"
"Takeout!" came Melinda's reply from the living room. "Already on it."
After taking a breath, Phil asked Kaya, "How does DJ's sound?"
A/N: Tell me what you think!
