Lust

It was late at night as the bus made its way across the Gulf of Mexico, business complete in São Paulo, Brazil. Another escapee from The Fridge was back in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, the local government thrilled not to have to deal with the matter themselves. Nobody on the team was injured and they caught their culprit so Coulson declared it a win all around.

The agent himself was sitting in the lounge. A fingers worth of good bourbon, mixing slowly with melting ice, sat on a coaster on the table before him. His tablet was open to that week's Agency wide mission reports and he was doing his best to keep his eyes open. He really should go to bed but he wanted to power through the last few. He rubbed his face and sighed.

"Hey, boss man." Skye walked around the corner and looked expectantly at the table. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah, sure." He gestured to the seat across from him and she plopped down. She placed a bowl on the table and he craned his neck to take a peek at the contents. "What is that?" He asked, genuinely stumped.

"It's a mango." Skye picked up the knife that was placed on top of the bowl and began to cut into the ripe fruit.

"It's purple."

"I'm told it's called a Palmer mango. Fitz and I picked up a whole box from the Central Market in the city." She lifted a slice to her mouth and scraped the pulp from the skin. "It's pretty good. Do you want some?"

"No, but thank you." Coulson lifted up his tablet and scrolled to the next report. He tried to concentrate, he honestly did, but Skye was staring at him with her big brown eyes. And he was finding that it was becoming harder and harder to resist their pull as time went on. He didn't want to admit to himself that this was becoming a problem.

"Yes, Skye?"

"Nothing." She sliced another quarter and popped it in her mouth. "Just bored. Can't sleep." She said around her food. "So what big mission are we headed off to next?"

"Scheduled R & R actually."

"No shit. Where? Las Vegas? Hawaii?" She asked hopefully, batting her eyes.

"Bakersfield."

"Wow," Skye deadpanned. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"I hear they have an interesting clock tower."

"Well sign me up for that, A.C."

"In all seriousness it's a refueling and resupply stop. Leave is kind of a byproduct." He placed his tablet on the table and swirled his drink around the glass.

"I see." She finished cutting slices off the mango and put the knife down on the table. Bringing the pit to her mouth, Skye began to suck at the remnants of the pulp.

This was the point at which Coulson made a crucial mistake. He had been in the process of taking a sip of his watered down bourbon when he glanced at Skye from the corner of his eye. Her pink tongue was darting in and out of her mouth, lapping at the soft flesh. Sweet, sticky, juice was running down her chin and she moved her hand to wipe at it. His imagination immediately went to unmentionable places. His stomach dropped and his cheeks felt warm. Liquid went down the wrong pipe and he sputtered. Coulson brought a hand up to his chest and coughed deeply.

"The way you eat that is obscene."

"What?" she exclaimed with confusion.

Skye was entirely oblivious to the effect she had on him.

Professional, stay professional, he thought. All 1072 tenants of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Code of Ethics. Not thoughts of Skye or her mouth, or especially the things her tongue could do. He needed another drink. Or it was entirely possible he had drunk too much. He needed to go to bed or at the very least get as much distance from her as a plane could feasibly provide.

That decided he stood up so quickly he banged his knees on the underside of the table. He surreptitiously leaned over to rub his right knee as he watched Skye's concerned face.

"Are you okay, Coulson."

"Fine. Goodnight Skye." His voice came out slightly strained.

"Night. See you for morning report?" She still sounded slightly befuddled about Coulson's behavior.

"Of course." And with that he made a quick exit for his cabin.

Once in his room he let out a breath he seemed to be holding since Skye started eating that damn fruit. It wasn't the first time he had thought of her in a less than mentor-mentee manner but he was usually good about stopping those musings before they really got started.

Coulson closed his eyes and sighed. It was really unfair; to both Skye, who was so young and under his command, and himself, who should really know better.

He would try harder, for the both of them. In the meanwhile he would attempt to get that sleep that he knew would probably be impossible, thoughts of Skye and that infernal mango haunting him all the way.