Hey this is published for the 7 Days of Philinda challenge on tumblr. It's late due to auditions and my birthday soooo yeah. Enjoy! Day 1- Fight

Phil Cheats.

Melinda was a little more than surprised when she found Coulson in the training room. He was hitting a punching bag, a grunt leaving his lips now and then. His black wife beater clings to his back, and his basketball shorts to his legs. She watches in mild amusement for a while before she walks up behind him.

"What brings you here?" She not too surprised when he leaps spinning around to face her. His hand moves to his chest in shock. A smile tweeks at her lips a bit at his absurd expression.

"I thought I could use a little training. You know, get back into shape." He states with a shy smile and a shrug. He wasn't out of shape, certainly not. He was too lean to be out of shape. However, by his heavy breathing she could detect it's been awhile since he's hand to hand fought with someone.

She's suddenly aware of his eyes tracing over her. She, herself, was wearing a tight fitting tank top and shorts that didn't even reach the middle of her thigh. Had she have known she'd find someone else in here at this hour she would have at least thrown on a pair of leggings. Her hair is pulled back in a slick ponytail so that all of it is up and out of her face.

"You know it is one in the morning right?" He asks suddenly.

"I couldn't sleep." She states walking over to the lockers. She opens her own pulling out a pair of gloves, slipping them onto her small hands.

"Is it Andrew?" The mere mention of the name has her spine straightening. She clenches her jaw and the silence is the only answer he needs.

"Rosalind is mine." The sadness in his tone causes a lurch of pain in her chest. She didn't even realize that he had been hurting too. Well she had, but neither of them had talked to the other about it. Now… Now it just hurts that she hadn't before.

"Phil…"

"Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't yours either." She snaps turning around to face him.

"I got too close. This is why we have rules. We have protocol like this for a reason. So that none of us gets hurt and nothing comes before our jobs." She clenches her fists as anger surges through her.

"You can't possibly be throwing out protocol now. I had an affair with Ward. Daisy and Ward, Daisy and Lincoln, Fitz and Simmons, Bobbi and Hunter. Need I go on?"

"That's not the same."

"How so? Because last time I checked we've all very nearly lost each other. You can't throw that on yourself because you weren't able to save her. Not when you don't let me blame myself over Andrew."

"That's not the same."

"Andrew is as dead as Rosalind." Her voice trembles at her own words. It hurt to say them but it was true. "That man running around out there is not Andrew. Hell, that's not a man that's a monster."

"Mel…"

"It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either." He says softly stepping closer to her. She wants nothing more to give in to his touch. She wants to collapse into his arms and lose herself. Instead she forces her eyes to the other side of the room.

"Let's go."

"What?"

"Like the old days. Let's go. You said you wanted some practice." She nods to the mats before slipping away from him. She tried to ignore the way she was suddenly cold after he wasn't so close anymore. The shiver down her back was undeniable though.

They square up quickly, a familiarity in their actions. She makes the first move catching him in the side with a quick sweep of her foot. A smile plays at her lips as he raises an eyebrow at her.

After a while he catches onto the rhythm. He recognizes the hints she gives before she strikes. Normally she doesn't give them but it had been years since he had hand to hand practice. She bounces before she sends a kick, twists before she punches. They easily dodge each other's moves while throwing some of their own. She's taken aback when he suddenly swipes her feet out from beneath her and she's thrown back onto the mats. Phil offers her a hand with a laugh at her expression. She sets her draw taking his hand. Except instead of pulling herself up, she sets her feet on his chest and flips him over her head. She moves quickly straddling his waist. She raises a teasing eyebrow with a challenging smirk.

Both of them take their beginning stances once again and suddenly neither of them are going easy on the other. Both of them throw heavy swings. Some hitting, some missing. The ones that hit are guaranteed to leave marks. She can almost feet a bruise forming on her hip after his last hit. Neither of them hit hard enough to truly hurt the other. Just enough to stun each other so that they may make the next move. At one point it became a game. They competed to see who could pin the other the most times. It was well into the night when they decided this was their last one. They were both equally exhausted but they were stuck in a tie. Both too competitive to give it up just then.

She smirks as she catches her perfect opportunity. She leaps into the air pushing herself off of his thigh. She swirls around quickly settling herself on his shoulders with practiced ease. She pitches herself forward sending his balance off. She twists in the air quick enough to tuck between his legs landing him on his back. She lays above him with her legs wrapped around his neck from behind in a vice grip.

It was her signature move in the academy. Not a single person was able to escape her grip. They all would tap on the mats to gain oxygen before they passed out. Her eyes snap open when she feels a pair of lips brush against the side of her thigh. Phil swipes his tongue across the soft skin nipping lightly. The action had thrown her off enough that she had loosened her grip. Phil reacted quickly breaking from her grasps. He spun back around capturing her wrists and pinning them over her head.

Melinda's head had become cloudy. Her mind filling with all sorts of… inappropriate thoughts. Ones that she shouldn't be having. Especially with him straddling her waist, their faces so close together. She could feel his breath dragging across her face. A warm flush quickly spreading across her chest. It would be so easy to play this game. His hands above her, pinning her to the ground. She bites her bottom lip ready to simply lean up and close the space between them. Especially if it would wipe that smug smirk off his face.

"I win." His words snap her out of her thoughts and then suddenly he's off of her.

"You cheated!" She cries in shock as he makes his way out of the room but he's already gone.

Melinda is left sitting there wondering what the hell just happened.