"Okay," Skye said, striding into Melinda's condo, "I have all the details for next Sunday, so we can start planning out your schedule for the week."

Melinda sighed, dropping the script she had been reading onto the counter. "Hello to you too, Skye."

"What?" The younger woman set her tablet down before rummaging through the cabinets. "You said you wanted me to be more efficient, so here I go." Skye began munching on a granola bar, the kind Melinda only kept around for her assistant. Skye knew it too, and she always smiled when she saw the box.

Melinda rolled her neck, stretching out the kinks with a satisfied groan. "I know I did, and I appreciate it. I just hate awards season."

"Even when you're up for every award and basically a shoo-in for the Oscar?"

Melinda gave Skye a pointed look. "I wouldn't say shoo-in."

"Entertainment Weekly would."

"What's my week look like?" said Melinda, choosing to ignore Skye. Scrolling through her tablet, Skye began rattling off a long list of interviews and parties Melinda was expected to attend leading up to Sunday, AKA the Big Day.

Melinda was up for Best Leading Actress at the Academy Awards, and chances were looking good for her to take it. A dark horse nominee, Jemma Simmons, had crept up in the last few awards shows, making it practically a 50-50 shot with Melinda taking the marginal lead. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but every time she thought about Sunday her stomach tingled with anticipation.

This role had been the one she had waited for her whole life. The one she wasn't sure she would even get, thanks to Hollywood and its narrow-mindedness. In What a Beautiful Life, she played a woman trying to piece her life back together after a debilitating accident. Last fall, it premiered at Toronto to incredible reviews, and her performance had been the talk of Hollywood ever since.

"And on Saturday," Skye continued, "you have rehearsal."

"Oh, right." Melinda had completely forgotten she was presenting as well. "What category do I have?"

"Best Animated Feature. And your partner is Phil Coulson." Skye could barely keep the excitement from her voice. Melinda grimaced.

"Phil Coulson? Seriously? He got invited to the Oscars?"

"Yeah, probably because he's one of the biggest actors in the world right now. Did you see how much money his last pic made?"

"Yes," Melinda said shortly. The SHIELD moviesdebuted seven years ago and had already surpassed Harry Potter as the biggest movie franchise in history. The latest installment was set to hit theaters that summer, and was already estimated to be the box office winner of the year. Phil Coulson was at the center of it all, playing the leader of a motley team of superheroes. The public lapped it up, and it made Melinda sick.

Skye caught Melinda's tone. "I know you hate those movies, but a lot of people love them, myself included."

"They have no cinematic merit, Skye," Melinda said reproachfully. "They have the simplest plots, rely on crazy effects, and are basically the same films over and over."

"Not true." Skye paused. "Okay, maybe a little true. Have you ever seen one?"

Melinda shrugged. "Don't have to. They're just like all the others."

Skye looked like she could argue the subject further, but instead settled for tapping her tablet with more force than necessary. "Well, regardless of how you feel about them, you're presenting with Coulson on Sunday. Be nice."

"I'm an actress, Skye, I know how to pretend."

Skye groaned.

By the time Melinda arrived at the Dolby Theater the following Saturday, she completely exhausted and done with awards season. As excited as she was, she was already looking forward to the moment she could go home and kick off her heels.

"Ms. May, we'll be ready for you in a couple of minutes," a PA said as he rushed off to the back of the theater. Melinda suppressed a moan. She just wanted to leave. She was a trained actress, she could read off a damn teleprompter. There was no need for her to practice.

However, there may be a need for her co-presenter.

"Melinda May?" a quiet voice asked. Melinda turned, keeping the frown off her face, and found herself face to face with the blockbuster hero himself, Phil Coulson. He was dressed casually, just jeans and a worn t-shirt, and had the bluest eyes. She hated herself for noticing it.

"Yes. You must be Phil," she said, smiling thinly. He was handsome, she had to admit. Something in her stomach fluttered traitorously.

"In the flesh," he joked. He stuck out his hand. "It's an honor to meet you, really. I'm a big fan."

"Mmm, likewise." She shook his hand and tried to ignore how warm his skin felt.

"You were incredible in What a Wonderful Life," Phil continued. "I bet you'll win tomorrow night. You have it in the bag."

"That's very kind of you," she replied graciously. "I'm trying not to think about it too much."

"What, do you not think you'll win?"

Melinda struggled to keep her face impassive. "I don't want to get ahead of myself."

"Phil Coulson and Melinda May?" The two looked up at the PA who had called their names. He nodded towards the stage. "You're up."

Their spiel wasn't hard at all. Simple riffs on adults loving animated movies as much as, or even more than, their children. There was a joke about Melinda being the voice of Mulan, which she didn't mind much.

Throughout the whole thing, Phil kept smiling at her and joking in between rounds. He gave her his arm when they practiced walking out and even offered to let her be the one to open the envelope with the winner.

Melinda was surprised to discover how easy it was to play off of Phil. She'd presented her fair share of awards and was more than aware of how difficult it could be to operate with a bland, stiff partner. Phil was the exact opposite, his eyes alight with excitement and his tone playful. For the first time, Melinda realized she didn't have to carry this one, that she could actually enjoy herself.

Stop, she thought when they were done and exiting the stage. He's Phil Coulson. You don't like him, remember?

"You guys were great!" Skye said enthusiastically. "You work so well together."

"Thank you," replied Phil. He glanced at Melinda, as though he was waiting for her to introduce him. She rolled her eyes.

"Phil, this is my assistant Skye. Skye," she waved her hand, "you know who this is."

"Yeah," Skye gushed, "I'm a huge fan. The SHIELD movies basically got me through college. They made me decide I wanted to work in Hollywood."

"That's wonderful, thank you very much." Melinda noted that Phil actually seemed genuinely touched. He beamed at Skye. "It really means a lot to hear that, truly."

Skye blushed and mumbled something incoherent about getting water. She dashed off, still in a star struck haze.

"You'll have to forgive Skye," Melinda said. "She still gets a little flustered around big stars."

"That's alright. She's sweet." He nodded towards Melinda. "So… any interesting projects coming up?"

Is he trying to make small talk with me? Most people left as soon as they were done rehearsal. That was all Melinda wanted to do, truth be told. But Phil seemed perfectly content to stand and chat with her some more.

"I have a movie set for the fall, but before that I'm taking a little vacation. Awards season has been exhausting."

Phil nodded sympathetically. "I can only imagine. I mean, I've only attended the shows and I'm tired of it all, I don't even want to think about what it's like for the people nominated."

Melinda so badly wanted to say Good thing you won't ever have to know, but managed to keep her mouth shut. Skye would be proud.

"What about you?" she asked, scanning the room for her eager assistant. "Anything planned for the rest of the year?"

"Well," Phil said slowly, as if he wasn't sure if she was joking or not, "I do have the SHIELD premiere in June, which means a ridiculously long press tour before. And then I start the fifth one in September."

Melinda fought to keep her voice light and teasing. "Is that all you do? SHIELD this, SHIELD that?"

Phil, for the first time since she'd met him, frowned. "No. This year just has a heavier focus on it because the next one is coming out."

"Right." Melinda dragged out the word. Phil furrowed his eyebrows.

"I get the feeling you don't like my movies."

She shrugged. "I don't really consider them to be movies, that's all."

Melinda expected him to insult her back, or storm off, or something like that. What she didn't expect was what he did. Crossing his arms, he fixed her with a simple look.

"Why?"

Melinda blinked. "Come again?"

"Why don't you consider them to be movies?"

She licked her lips. "Do you really want me to say?"

Phil lifted his head, almost as if challenging her. "Yes. I want to know what the great Melinda May thinks."

Melinda smirked. This could be fun.

"Let's see, the plots are often half-baked, special effects carry everything, there tends to be minimal character development, and if there's more it's awkward and forced, and there is no deeper meaning to the story other than good saving the day." She stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Would you like me to go on?"

Phil surprised her again by smiling. "You know, I expected more from you, Melinda. A real shame."

"Excuse me?" Her blood boiled, and she drew herself up to her full height.

"I've heard that old argument a hundred times, and to be honest, I agree with some of the points you just made. I was hoping you would say something, I don't know, original."

Melinda's mouth dropped open. Of all the people to accuse her of being unoriginal…

"I don't even think you've seen one of my movies," Phil continued. Melinda scowled. He sounded like Skye.

"I have no interest in them."

He held his hands out apologetically. "That's too bad. I'm sorry you feel that way." He gave her a sad smile. "Have a good day, Melinda. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, he turned and left Melinda standing there looking like someone had slapped her. She had almost wanted him to get angry at her, to tell her she was a stuck-up bitch. Somehow, she thought that would hurt less than the resigned, simple response she got instead.

"Do you think it would be in poor taste of me to ask Phil for a picture tomorrow?" Skye asked, returning with two water bottles tucked under her arm. She held one out to Melinda, who was staring at the door Phil had exited through.

"You have the first SHIELD on DVD, right?"

Skye frowned. "Of course, I have the special edition Blu-ray. Why?"

"Bring it over tomorrow morning."

Skye's eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me Skye, don't make me repeat it."

"I – Yeah, of course I will!" Skye grinned at her like a proud mother, which only made Melinda roll her eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that, you look ridiculous."

"I'm just so happy."

"Stop."

Melinda let out a long exhale, leaning up against the wall. She was probably ruining her hair and wrinkling her dress, but she didn't care at this point. She had made it through the ceremony, now all that was left was the after-parties. Behind her, the Governors Ball was in full swing, with winners mingling with non-winners, eating food and taking hundreds of pictures.

In her right hand, Melinda held her Oscar. She hadn't been able to let go of it since it was given to her, staring at it as though it would disappear. Her peers had all congratulated her a thousand times over, and her eyes still hadn't adjusted from the flashing cameras she faced in the press room. She was floating on cloud nine.

Academy Award winner Melinda May. It had a nice ring to it.

In a few minutes she would go back inside and get it engraved, but for now she wanted some quiet. A moment to take it all in, to breathe. She had snuck out onto the balcony, and was grateful for the breeze that caressed her face. All her hard work, all her sacrifices had led to this.

And yet, there was something hollow within her.

She was happy, there was no denying that. Nothing could take away from the immense pride she felt, the exhilaration that was still coursing through her veins. She wanted to shout how happy she was from the rooftops until everyone in the world told her to shut up. But deep, deep down, there was something poking her, reminding her that all wasn't well.

And she knew exactly what it was. It had appeared in full force during the show, when she presented Best Animated Feature. Whereas yesterday Phil had been full of light, tonight he had been more withdrawn. He was friendly still, for which she was grateful, and he gave no indication that something was wrong. But he regarded her coolly, kept his jokes and smiles to himself.

And Melinda realized she really missed his warmth.

She had hurt him. That was obvious. Hollywood was full of people giving each other a wide berth and icy stares because of past feuds, and Melinda had been in several herself. But none had rocked her as much as this one had, even though it occurred just over twenty-four hours ago with someone she had just met.

That fact that she was rattled was odd enough, but add in how much she wanted to apologize, and you had the most bizarre thing Melinda had experienced in a very long time. And she had just won an Oscar.

Making up her mind, she turned to go back inside, only to stop short. A tuxedoed man was slipping out, and he too froze once he spotted her.

"I'm sorry," Phil said, masking his uncomfortableness well. Damn actors. "I didn't realize someone was out here."

"It's alright," Melinda replied softly, feeling self-conscious. She tightened her grip on the golden statue, her hand suddenly sweaty.

Phil nodded towards the award. "Congratulations." He smiled, and Melinda hated how genuine it was. "You deserve it, really."

"Thank you." She dipped her head, all the resolve she had before he came out disappearing. An awkward silence descended on the pair, the party behind them sounding positively thunderous. Melinda swallowed.

Say something.

"I'll just go, then," Phil finally said. He stepped backwards, his hand reaching for the door. Melinda's stomach dropped, and she lurched forward.

"Wait." Phil stopped, glanced back at her, and dropped his hand. He looked tired.

"What? Want to mock my career some more? Talk about how franchises are the death of Hollywood?"

Melinda sighed and clutched her Oscar with both hands.

"I watched the first SHIELD today."

Phil blinked. Then blinked again.

"I thought it didn't interest you."

"Someone made me interested," she said evenly, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. Phil crossed his arms over his chest.

"And?"

Melinda bit her lip. "It wasn't half bad."

That was a lie. Melinda had really, really enjoyed it, despite trying not to. The action sequences were incredible to witness, and the characters had far more personality than she had given them credit for initially. Sure, the script could have used some more work, but Melinda still found herself rooting for the protagonists. She even got a tad emotional when Antoine Triplett's character died saving the others.

And Phil having a shirtless scene didn't hurt.

He was an amazing actor. He breathed life into the role of the head superhero and injected subtle details about his character that only a sharp-eyed fan would catch. He could switch from determined to broken to determined again in the span of one scene.

Skye had grinned like an idiot the whole time and promised to bring the second and third ones by tomorrow. Melinda said nothing, attempting to maintain her cover of indifference. That was blown the minute Skye caught her reading Phil's IMDb profile.

She had it bad.

"Wow, not half bad," Phil said, smirking a little. He looked as though he knew how much she had enjoyed it. "That seems like incredibly high praise coming from you."

Melinda took a step forward. "I owe you an apology, Phil. I misjudged you and your work, and that was incredibly narrow-minded of me." She licked her lips. "You're very talented. I look forward to watching more of your stuff."

She prayed he recognized how genuine she was, and based on the small smile beginning to appear, he had. Melinda could feel the weight in her heart lessening.

"Thank you." He tilted his head to the side. "Maybe we could work on something together."

Melinda smiled. "I would love that."

Phil offered her his arm, much like he had earlier, and she took it eagerly, her whole body warming. Before she could chicken out, she leaned up, grateful for the heels she was wearing for the first time that night, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Phil's response was to kiss her forehead, and both of them shared a grin like two teenagers in the middle of an illicit affair.

As they returned to the ball, arm in arm, Melinda was very, very grateful she had decided to watch that stupid movie.