Author's Note: Original Marvel Characters and locations belong to Marvel Entertainments and Affiliates. Everything else is mine. For the lack of Philinda moments in the season finale. All my AOS pieces are posted on on Ao3 first and may make it onto here eventually, depending on the feedback on these pieces. I"m under the same username there.

All feedback welcome and appreciated!

Phillip Coulson had been pacing around for the last half an hour trying to find something else to clear in the apartment he shared with his partner and teammate. It didn't help that his best friend was a frustratingly clean person in general which left him with nothing to be able to mop, dust, or polish.

So he settled for the next best thing and picked up his cell from the coffee table and dialed the second number listed. She answered on the first ring with an amused:

"Phil, you need to breathe."

"I can't," he gushed, "she's going to be here in less than ten minutes. What if she doesn't like the apartment? Oh god, what if she thinks that I've wasted by entire life by not going to college and doesn't see how dedicated I really am to the greater good?"

There was silence on the other line until he ran out of breath and then Melinda May spoke again.

"You need to calm down. Your mother adores you and she's going to be proud of you whether you can eat off the apartment's floor or not."

"You're right," he said, deflating slightly and dropping like a dead weight onto their leather couch.

"Always am. Now go channel your inner Captain America on the way to the airport. Agent Blake keeps glaring at me for talking on the phone during his debriefing."

He forced himself to exhale.

"'kay. Meet you at the restaurant at seven."

"See you."

He felt marginally better after hanging up and calmly walked to get his keys.

His mother was coming.

Julie Coulson was a gentle woman by nature.

She was humble and a homemaker. She had wanted to be a mother since the first moment she had met her husband. Self-reliant and an excellent baker, she had raised her son alone from the time he was ten after his father died to a drunk driver.

So when Phil sat her down after his freshman year of college saying that he was leaving to become a spy, she was not impressed. He spoke about S.H.I.E.L.D. ("It stands for Strategic, Homeland, Intervention and Logistics Division, mom—it's for the greater good!") this government agency known for their international espionage and guns and violence and—she still got chills thinking about the danger.

But she had adapted, just as she had when her husband died, to only seeing her child on holidays and hushed phone calls on the weekends.

He picked her up at the airport, carrying her luggage to a black SUV that she knew he'd never pick out himself. Phil chattered the entire way to his apartment; about his new assignment, about the new house she bought, about the weather in DC, and she chimed in appropriately, happy to just get a look at the son she hadn't seen since graduation.

He was taller, more muscled than she remembered. Older. In a way she couldn't quantify. His hair was in a shorter, new style and he was in a suit she had never seen, but was classic and oddly reminiscent of his father's teaching suits.

"So this is me," Phil said, rushing forward to unlock the door. "My partner and I are roommates, but she's still at a briefing."

She?

Julie forced herself to not remark on that fact just yet and take in her son's new home.

The apartment was nicer than she expected for his first place; a two bedroom with huge windows and a tiny balcony in a large bricked building. It was located on near one of the more historic districts of D.C and their apartment was on the fourth floor, overlooking part of the city. There was a kitchen that opened out to the living area and a beautiful spacious living room.

"It's lovely, Phil."

His cheeks flushed red and she could tell her son was jumping up and down on the inside. Something things never changed.

"You think so?"

She nodded with a smile, her fingers brushed the bookshelf (she recognized the comics from her son's room, all in alphabetical order and recently dusted) and the blanket on the couch was old and worn and nothing she recognized.

"I mean, she picked it out and we spend so much time together anyways that it's not like we don't work well together, so we just thought, what the heck. I thought it was a pretty sweet set up."

"You learned Chinese?" She held up one of the thick books on the coffee table. Phil turned around quickly and his eyes widened. "Wha—oh no. That's Melinda's."

Melinda's.

The girl her son had been living with had a name.

"And how long have you two lived together?"

"Me and Melinda? Uh—since after graduation. She came to D.C. right from the Academy and I came after I spent the summer back home."

Scanning through the kitchen, she turned back to face her down twenty-three-year-old son. His hands were wringing slightly in front of him, nervous as the day she had dropped him off in the first grade.

"So tell me what you've been up to."

And he did.

Without giving away too many details of his assignment or his missions or even his job in general, he spoke of his travels, of his supervising officer, of the stress of his job, and his adventures.

"…but Melinda's much better at the whole transient thing than I am thought."

"But you two aren't—"

"Mom!"

On the way to dinner back at her hotel, she couldn't contain her interest any more.

"So tell me about her."

"Mom—" Phil began, but Julie leaned forward in her seat, adjusting her purse and seatbelt to look at him better before cutting him off.

"Before prom you had never brought a girl home, Phillip, and now you just casually drop the bomb that you live with one now. I'm entitled to be a little nosy. We're going to meet her after all."

Phil sighed and looked straight through the windshield for several minutes. The lights from traffic and the lit up city bounced off his face, making him look older than she had ever seen him.

"What do you want to know about her?"

"Anything you want to tell me."

Phil let out a lengthy breath. "Uh, she's quiet and fast and really, really good at her job." He hesitated for another moment before continuing, "And she's got all these boundaries that makes it really hard to get to know her. It's really frustrating except she's funny and kind…and she makes you feel like you're always going to make it home."

Was that a little more than admiration she heard in her son's voice?

"She sounds like quite the young lady."

"She is."

Julie smiled and was quiet the rest of the way.

She was beautiful.

That was the first thing she noticed about her son's partner. She was Chinese, the very epitome of Asian elegance and grace. Her skin porcelain and fine and she had a head full of long dark hair that was sleek in the dimmed lights of the restaurant.

And she was tiny. That was the second thing Julie noticed. How small she stood next to Phil, how little the structure of her bones were. Especially when he went to put a hand on the small of her back to usher her to the table after greeting her at the door of the restaurant.

As Melinda drew closer however, she noticed her large, captivatingly dark eyes and she knew that it wasn't her statue, but the absolutely mesmerizing way she held herself when she walked that attracted everyone's eyes in the room to her.

And Julie Coulson had the sudden realization that this girl was so very out of her son's league.

"Mom this is my partner, Melinda May. Mel, this is my mom, Julie Coulson."

She smiled softly and reached out a delicate hand towards Julie before the older woman closed the space between them with a bone crushing hug. The smaller woman jumped slightly at the unexpected gesture before relaxing a fraction of a moment under her touch.

When she released the tiny crane of a girl, she caught Phil wincing slightly at the gesture before planting a forced smile on his face. She matched it with one of her own.

"It's lovely to meet you, dear. Shall we?"

Dinner was a surprisingly gentle affair. Between the white wine and the appetizer of cheeses and grapes, Julie was successfully wooed by the quiet, intelligent girl in front of her.

"And where did you attend college, Melinda?"

"I attended a private school in China when I was a child with a focus on geopolitics and Asian-Middle Eastern languages," Phil straightened slightly next to Julie, "but I was recruited for S.H.I.E.L.D. at seventeen, so I didn't have a chance to attend to proper university in the States."

Melinda's eyes downcast slightly as the revelation came from her lips, like she wasn't sure about sharing so much in a single sentence.

Julie opened her mouth in surprise and struggled to properly respond when Phil's phone rang and shattered the peaceful mood. He excused himself, standing up from the chair and slipping towards the edges of the room, intently listening to the person on the other side of the line.

"How long have you known Phil?"

Melinda's eyes turned back instantly on Julie from watching Phil talk on the phone. They were brighter up close, she noticed, just as large and captivating as they had been from far away, but more intense and intelligent up close, as if she was seeing so much more than everyone else at the table.

"We met in the Academy our first year," Melinda said with a small smile, "we had hand to hand combat together."

She took a sip of wine as Phil returned, sliding into the seat next to her.

(Was the girl even old enough to drink? Up close, she seemed deceivingly young in appearance and misleadingly adult in her aura.)

"You have to work?" Julie couldn't let the disappointment seep from her voice when he returned, but Phil shook his head and handed the phone over to Melinda who gracefully rose up from her chair.

"I thought you and Melinda were partners? Don't you both have to go together?"

"Not always. Melinda's a specialist so sometimes they need her for stuff them don't need me on."

"Oh."

She noted the way he watched Melinda walk with interest; how his gaze followed her form with concern, and his eyes lingered on her lips as she talked.

"They need a combat pilot," Melinda's voice was low as she passed the phone back to Phil and reseated herself at the table and taking a sip of water next to her wine.

"For Hand?"

"No with Harding and his team."

"You can fly planes?"

Both Phil and Melinda turned to look at Julie in surprise as if they had both forgotten she was there, intruding on their private moment.

"I have a pilot's license."

Their eyes met again for the briefest of moments before Phil spoke.

"Uh, do you want to take the car?"

She shook her head before the offer had finished coming out of Phil's mouth, "Fury is swinging by to grab me."

Phil groaned and scrubbed his hands with his face, making Melinda smirk brightly.

Fury turned out to be a very tall, black leather clad, imposing man, in his early thirties, who got quite a bit of attention as he strutted through the dimmed dining hall towards them. He threw Melinda a black small duffle bag, and called over, "Suit up. We gotta roll out of here in 15. Nice tie there, Coulson."

Phil had worn his tie with the tiny Captain American shields on it and had been fidgeting with it all night. Julie wasn't sure if it was because she was here or because Melinda was.

However before her son could pipe up, Melinda tilt her head back with a casual, "Hi, Nick. It's nice to see you too. My evening's been lovely, thanks for asking."

The man let out a gruff laugh.

"Hello May."

His growl was affectionate and she smirked up at him before gracefully twirled towards the women's restroom with the bag he had delivered. Fury rolled his eyes and took Melinda's vacant chair, watching her retreating form with interest.

It seemed her son wasn't the only one interested in this young lady's backside.

Phil cleared his throat. "Uh, Boss, this is my mom, Julie. She's visiting from Wisconsin. Mom, this is my supervising officer, Nick Fury."

The man straightened up in his chair and leaned over the table to firmly shake her hand. His eyes seemed to stare straight through her. Phil had spoken about him before; his unflappable calm, imposing nature in the field, and unique ability to reduce groups of cadets to tears.

"It's good to meet you, Mister Fury. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Pleasure, Mrs. Coulson." He turned back to focus on Phil. "Cheese, can you help hook May up to her comms?"

Julie raised her eyebrow at the nickname, but didn't remark on it. (Perhaps it was a spy thing, some sort of code word, and the silly pet name that it sounded like.) As Phil went to help his partner, she leaned forward and patted the younger man arm, "so tell me, Mister Fury, how my son doing?"

She must have made the man slightly uncomfortable with the sudden moment and touch because the man's eyes darted around the room for a moment looking for an escape before he spoke.

"Phil's a good man, a good agent. He'll go far."

"And his partner?"

Fury smirked then and leaned back in his chair, suddenly comfortable, and took a large mouthful of white wine from Melinda's glass.

"Melinda May, specialist."

There was that word again, specialist. Julie wasn't sure if she wanted to know just what areas the girl his son was living with was so elite at.

"Phil's my only child. A mother worries, you know."

Something about that made the man's smirk broaden, "Don't worry, Mrs. Coulson, the safest place for your son is with Melinda May."

Phil was supposed to taking her sightseeing to all the major parts of D.C. The usual place: the White House, Smithsonian, Washington Monument, to introduce her to the city that he was a part of now. Being from a small town in Wisconsin, she had never traveled to the east coast, let alone D.C. before.

They had spent the rest of the week since dinner talking on the phone or shopping near her hotel. He had made her dinner in his apartment and enjoyed just being reunited after the months they had spent apart.

Julie sat on the patio outside her hotel, relaxing in the sunlight when a voice caught her attention.

"Mrs. Coulson?"

She turned to see Melinda approaching her with a small, somewhat unsure smile. She was just as pretty as she was just a few nights ago, only instead of a black lace, she wore a silk white halter top underneath a creased black leather jacket that looked one size too big, dark jeans, and dark boots.

"Phil mentioned that he was supposed to take you sightseeing around the city…"

"He got called in."

There wasn't a question in her voice.

Melinda nodded. "I could still take you if you wanted. I don't know as much about all the historical aspects of the city as him, but…" The offer hung in the air, gentle and unassuming.

Julie smiled before she could help it.

"Call me Julie, dear."

Melinda flashed her badge discretely as they entered the White House and they were ushered through a side door to the quieter halls, away from the school groups and gaggles of tourists. Everything in the building was mopped up and clean to an almost sparkling degree. The crown molding and details were shining and Julie wondered how many hours of polishing it took to get a place looking so spotless.

They passed groups of well-dressed businessmen and people she assumed were politicians. Back in Manitowoc, no one focused much on the bigger politics more than the usual neighborhood gossip and the sheriff reelection.

Melinda stopped short at one of the double doors on their right and turned to look at Julie. "Would you like to see inside?" Melinda's voice was still quiet.

Julie turned around to face her with a slightly confused look as Melinda gracefully nodded to the man outside the doors to the office. Julie pretended not to notice how Melinda flashed her badge.

The man's eyes coursed over her for one second before moving back to Melinda and opening the door and allowing them to pass swiftly into the room.

"He's not here," Melinda said smoothly, closing the door behind them. "The president and his wife are in China trying to work on an anti-intelligence bill."

"Are you going to get in trouble for that?"

She snorted and her eyes sparkled.

"We worked a black tie event for them a few weeks ago and I shot the assassin with a sniper rifle on the roof, so probably not…unless they tell Fury."

Julie felt her heart leap a little at her words.

She could imagine that her son was marching around these very halls in his new suit. It was a startling reality, so real she could also touch it front of her (she was good at imagining that worst case scenarios, after all, her husband's car being smashed by a drunk driver had never been something she thought to worry about) but far enough away that she could tell herself that he was just a boy. Nothing bad was going to happen. After all, how much danger could a government agency really let him get into at twenty-three years old?

Melinda was doing a very good job of shattering her securely wrapped reality.

They toured the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial before having tea in a beautiful hole in the wall tea shop which serve the sweetest of green teas that Julie had ever tried. Melinda was a model tour guide; quiet and intelligent, not intrusive as she pointed out different spots of the city, but the more she learned about the city, the less she learned about the woman herself.

She decided on a more direct approach.

"Did you always want to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., Melinda?"

It was the most direct question Julie had managed to wrangle towards her all day. Melinda seemed to have the gift to talking about everything and nothing, allowing Julie to learn absolutely nothing of substance about the woman her son was living with.

The girl's lips were hidden behind her teacup and she didn't speak for a moment.

"I grew up with a single mother in the intelligence business," she said, wrapping her hands around the cup and setting it on the table with an almost soundless clink, "and I was always meant to be a spy."

"Why not stay with your mother?"

The quirk in Melinda's lips told her there was a story behind her choosing S.H.I.E.L.D. and not her mother's agency, but Julie could tell even now that she wasn't going to be privy to it.

"Better dental plan."

Julie smiled.

They were supposed to be taking a short cut back to her hotel back between Elwood and Marion Street when a group of three hoodie men started walking behind them. The alley was dark, but wasn't frightening, until she realized they were being followed. Julie knew she noticed them long after Melinda did.

Her hand automatically wrapped a little tighter around her purse. This was nothing like Manitowoc.

Glancing over, Melinda seemed completely at ease, calm, as if she didn't even notice the men.

There was a loud and foul clank like metal pounding concrete and Julie forced herself to not turn around to see what had caused it.

"Julie, move over towards my right side, please." Melinda's voice changed from her previous unassuming tone to a strong, direct order and Julie felt herself obey it without question.

The fight was short lived and the three robbers was woefully short lived. Melinda moved with the grace of ripping water in a speed that was almost inhuman. Julie's eyes couldn't catch the individual moves she made, each was a part of the next.

The violence of it was startling and ugly.

And at the sound of the single gunshot that rang out, Julie jolted forward, her feet catching in the concrete in front of her. Her arms came out to catch her, and she could feel her heart beating quickly, almost racing out of her chest.

Just as suddenly as the fight has begun, a hand sat her up. Melinda turned from the side of the houses at the mouth of the alley and her hand came to rest on Julie's shoulder, tilting her back in the moonlight.

"Mrs. Coulson? You're all right. Just try to relax."

Her tone was soothing, peaceful almost and Julie latched onto. As her surrounding came more into focus, she adjusted to the scraps on her hands and elbow from where she had fell and looked up at Melinda who looked as prim and proper as she had standing in the Oval Office hours ago.

A specialist indeed.

"I-I thought I told you to call me Julie, dear."

Melinda's large, dark eyes didn't waver from her face, checking over her, Julie presumed for medical inventory, and there was a safety in that that lowered Julie's heartrate.

She broke off eye contact first, turning her head to glance over at the three unconscious men that the little girl in front of her had just taken down with such ease.

"May, Melinda Q. Code Alpha 078634." Melinda spoke rapid fire into the phone that suddenly materialized from her back pocket, her eyes coursing over the scene. Julie recognized Chinese when she heard it and the phone call was short. Without a second glance towards the unconscious, now tied up, vagrants, Melinda's hand tilted her arm up to the fading sunlight.

The blood shone in the light like a red-black jewel.

"Just try to breathe."

The cars that arrived post her phone call arrived quickly in a flurry of movement.

"Mom!"

She felt silly then, about all the fright she had felt, as Phil ran towards her in his suit and tie. He kneeled down with her in the alley.

"Three assailant. One shot. It hit the back wall. We need to get a clean-up team on standby."

"Phil, don't make such a fuss. You'll get your suit all crinkled and dirty."

God knows how long it would take to get the alley dirt out of his favorite suit.

"What the hell happened?"

Agent Fury was there, behind them with another agent at his side and Melinda eased back from Phil and Julie to speak with them. Julie could only hear part of Fury's later comment over Phil's fussing.

"…idiots chose the wrong people to try and rob…"

"I really am fine, dear. You're overreacting." Her hand came to gently hold both sides of his face. His eyes coursed over his body in a similar fashion that Melinda's had only minutes earlier.

The other agent, bald and more form filled, came to kneel next to Phil and put a large first aid kit at her feet.

"Be gentle, Blake."

There was an even threat in Phil's voice that the bald agent didn't seem to want to fight over with in the present circumstances.

"Copy that."

Phil stood then, turning back to Fury and Melinda standing a respectful distance away. Without hesitation, his arms came to wrap around Melinda's waist in such an affectionate manner that Julie knew, without a doubt, that she would be seeing more of this girl in the future.

Julie hissed slightly as Blake applied the cleaning antiseptic to her scrapes, and she forced herself to not stare at her son and his partner.

"Thank you for looking after her."

His whisper was so quiet that she almost missed it over the crinkling of bandages being unwrapped.

"Of course."

She knew that kiss on the cheek definitely wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D. standard protocol, but it was the most at ease she had seen the Chinese girl all week.

Julie forced herself to look down at her scabbing elbow and not the contentment on her son's face. There was gravel matted into the blood as the other agent wiped it gently with gauze. "This should just take another minute, ma'am."

She felt herself smile and respond in the affirmative, but her mind was elsewhere. On tiny babies with porcelain skin, on white cribs and knitting patterns for baby blankets, a firecracker of a little girl with dark hair and Phil's blue eyes.

She even had a spare bedroom on the first floor that would make an excellent nursery.