I don't own any of the characters they all belong to Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. No Copyright Intended. Thank you to TheWanderingLily aka Indilwenofmirkwood on Tumblr my lovely Beta, who helped with the first draft and gave some wonderful input.

Melinda was just about to slip under the covers when she heard the soft tap from the door, opening it revealed Phil on the other side. She opened the door wider, turned her back while walking farther into her room, expecting him to follow and start rambling about whatever brought him here. A slight frown graced her features when she didn't hear the door shut or him move. Turning around she faced him giving him a questioning look, she quickly took stock of him. His breathing was even, his hands steady, his feet shoulder width apart, and despite it being nearly dawn, he was still wearing his suit from the day before. She paid closer attention to his face, his eyes were… worried? No that's not right. Concerned? No, not that either. Guilty? But why would he feel guilty? They haven't had any intense conversations or disagreements and it had been a pretty normal week. The most obvious tell that something was troubling him was his silence, he just stood by the door watching her and she knew that he was trying to get a read on her.

"Phil?" At the sound of her voice he finally moved and leaning on his right side against the doorway, putting his hands in his pockets while letting out a sigh. She tried again, this time letting her worry come across in her tone.

"Phil."

His eyes locked onto hers briefly, then he turned his back to her while bending down to reach for something. When he turned back he held in his arms a flat black box, he took the three strides necessary to reach her and wordlessly handed it over to her while looking apologetic. She understood the gesture but was confused by the look on his face, she opened the box to find a rich royal blue coloured dress . Dammit she hoped this didn't mean what she thought it did, she reached in and pulled out the dress, it was short about mid-thigh length, sequins on the straps, tight from the hips downwards and loose around the scooped neckline.

Melinda gave Phil one of her iciest glares and backed it up with a resounding "No!". This was a partying dress, the type you wear when visiting clubs and experiencing the city's night life.

"You fit the profile, May. It would only be for a couple of hours. You're the target's type, you just have to get close. It's a basic tag job, you'll be in and out in no time." Phil pleaded.

"Send Bobbi, she has the skill-set and the legs."

Phil sighed, she instantly knew he was going to try and reason with her before he opened his mouth.

"You read the profile, you know she doesn't fit his type and you do, perfectly. Skye might be a candidate, but with her powers and lack of experience with this type of OP we both know you're the best for the job." Melinda hated that he was right. Dammit, dammit.

"I hate undercover." She all but spat at him while heading towards the closet to hang the dress.

"Melinda, I'm not asking and it's a very nice dress." That wasn't fair, he knew he was cheating.

When she turned around Phil was only two strides away from her, his hands back in his pockets, and shoulders pushed up giving her his most charmingly boyish expression.

Melinda decided that if Phil was pulling out the big guns, it was time for her to negotiate. "Foot massage everyday for two weeks after."

"I'm not saying it's a great plan, but you must admit it's not my worst." He countered while smiling warmly at her, and despite her tone he finally looked relaxed enjoying their exchange. And for that she'd go undercover a thousand times over, not that she'd ever tell him.

"Phil." She growled out, she really wanted the massages. He gave the best ones.

She watched as Phil sighed out in exaggerated surrender. "As you wish."

Satisfied she offered him an eye roll and smirk in return. It looked like she was going dancing.