"So you actually punched May in the face?" Skye smiled, looking between the two senior agents, "Did it feel weird? I bet it was weird."
Coulson shrugged, "I knew it wasn't her."
"Because she doesn't like coffee?" Skye leaned on the kitchen table, "That's a crazy tidbit to gamble on, I saw her, she looked just like you."
May crossed her arms, but Skye wasn't deterred, "I still can't believe they made a nano-mask that good. I mean, Coulson, can you imagine if you were wrong and you actually punched May in the face?"
"I wasn't worried." He rested against the counter, blowing steam off his mug.
Skye looked over him, "You're so confident. I don't think I could ever be that confident with a look-a-like that good."
"You also haven't known me for almost 3 decades." May shrugged, moving past Coulson to pick up the mug of tea he left next to the sink.
"Wait..." Skye's brow furrowed, "3 decades, that would put you, what? As teenagers?!"
Coulson smirked a pleased little grin, "Thank you for that, but no, a little older. We met at the Academy."
Blinking, Skye straightened, "I don't think I realized you guys have known each other since then."
"We didn't really." May hedged, "One weekend in our second year was the only time we interacted prior to graduation."
"Because the three divisions don't spend much time together." Skye filled in, recalling the visit to campus the previous year. "And you were Operations and Coulson was... Communications?"
"He certainly wasn't Ops." May murmured into her tea.
"I could have been." He made a face at her. "But I didn't want to. No academy was better than any of the others."
May arched an eyebrow in silent, but pointed, disagreement.
Skye smiled, the lighthearted dynamic a balm over the stress of the recent months. She leaned forward, chin in her palm, "So...what was it, the weekend you guys met? What happened?"
"I kicked May's ass."
"Coulson cheated."
They answered with simultaneous conviction, lowering their mugs, May glaring and Coulson grinning back.
"Now remember, the Communications cadets you'll be tracking think that this is just a typical solo survival retreat, they have no idea that they are being targeted."
Melinda leaned back in her chair in order to make eye contact with McCarthy. The other cadet smiled back; for once this was going to be a fun assignment.
"Your challenge is to detain and extract as many comm cadets as possible." The professor continued, a matrix of young faces, their targets, appearing on the monitor behind him.
Scanning their features, nothing stood out to Melinda. A few of the dozen were exactly what one might expect, soft chins, glasses, smiles, but there were a few who had stared steadily into the camera, projecting pride and resolve. One in particular had broad shoulders, square jaw and small scar above his eye. Melinda memorized the face deciding that he would likely be the closest to an actual challenge in the field; she was looking forward to it.
Professor Gordon flicked the screen to a map of the woods south of campus, "Remember, all your targets need to do for a pass is to make it to their rendezvous location so you will need to operate quietly; if spooked they'll all run for the bunker, severely limiting the number of cadets you'll be able to detain."
He nodded to his assistant, "You are currently receiving your primary target. You need to detain this one in order for any of your others to count. These are assigned on grade rank to ensure the most efficient of you," He eyed Melinda and Cadet Taylor behind her, "Have at least a semblance of a challenge and leave some targets for the rest of the class."
May accepted the paper handed to her and frowned. She was top in the class and expected to be matched with the square jawed cadet but instead the face looking back at her was one she hardly even remembered from the board. Soft eyes, receding hair, and a contained smirk.
"Sir," She stepped to the professor as the rest of the cadets filed out of the briefing room, "I think there's been a mistake with my primary target."
Gordon looked at the paper in her hand, "Phillip Coulson; that's right. First in the class." He shrugged, "What can I say Cadet, communications requires a different skill set than operations. Maybe he's really good at codebreaking. It's not a perfect system. I wouldn't complain; it'll be an easy down and then you can move on to stealing targets from the rest of your classmates."
She nodded in acceptance despite the lingering disappointment.
"And Cadet May," Gordon pulled her attention once more, "Don't forget, while they are targets today they will be teammates and probably team leaders in the future. Try not to hurt anyone."
Restraining the impulse to roll her eyes until Professor Gordon had turned his back, she grimaced at Taylor who was burning his target assignment over the trash barrel.
"Team leaders." He repeated the professor with a snort, "If you ask me, it's bull that most team leaders come out of Communications while strike team operatives and specialists are the ones putting their blood and bones on the line."
She tightened her lips, "I don't think it's necessary to burn your assignment."
He smiled, "Maybe not, but it's fun." He looked down at the burning visage, "Y'know." He straightened, "You and I could team up, probably have the lot of them rounded up in a few hours then have the weekend free." He leaned over her, eyes dark.
Her jaw tightened and she glared back, the last thing she wanted was to spend any more time than necessary with Jeremy Taylor. "I'm aiming to be a specialist; I don't do teaming up."
"Maybe I'm trying to be a team leader." His lips turned up in to a grin as he saddled closer.
His eyebrow popped and she crossed her arms, not retreating.
Huffing, Taylor stepped back, "Whatever, these soft puffs don't know what's about to hit them."