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They were in a whirl, trying to settle themselves in the small house. Experienced agents as they were, neither of them specialized in handling small kids: they both grew up without younger sibling; and their profession didn't usually encourage providing free babysit service for their colleagues. On the other hand, arranging for a kid to be well-fed, presentably dressed, and adequately, if not constructively entertained required much more than just tactical planning. For one, you could hardly claim that scrambled eggs at breakfast was strategically advantageous, and giving orders was most certainly not the best way to end the who-will-do-laundry argument. Simply put, they were expected to cooperate on a whole new level.

Despite all the struggle, Coulson found it easy to be domestic together with May. He had discovered over the years that, as long as it was out of the field, Melinda May could be quite easygoing on certain aspects, just like he was. As a result, housework were shared after minimum exchanges and appreciating each other's handiwork was as easy in their household as in the battlefield. Well, it did help tremendously that, while May was meticulous and efficient as ever, he was no sloppy fool himself.


When May started chopping up vegetable, Coulson excused himself, intending to help the kid unpack. They had agreed that the kid should have her own room, even though none of the rooms in this safe house were designed for children. Every piece of furniture was rather large for a six year old, and he was quite concerned about how she'd been dealing with it.

However, minutes later, he couldn't decide which was worth more of his concern-the fact that the girl was currently lying on the floor at the center of the room, or that she was using her bag and clothes as cushion, delicately balancing herself on the top of it.

"What are you doing, Mary? " The kid sat up, immediately on alert. "Why are you not unpacking? "

The kid shrugged, "Because you haven't talk about rules."

"Excuse me? "

"They always have so many rules...you know, in other foster homes. " The kid was picking at her fingers again; he could tell it was a nervous habit.

"Is it important to you that I talk about rules? " He hoped his voice sounded soothing enough, because, to be honest, this conversation was wearing down his nerve, too.

"So you can't trick me into real trouble any more. " the kid snapped; wary eyes finally focused on him. Coulson sensed that there was some unpleasant story, but he didn't push.

"Wouldn't dream of it." he said solemnly instead, hoping it would convince the kid.

The kid appeared to hesitate over trusting him on this one. "So you don't have rules? " she asked after a long pause.

"Uh, about that," now he was secretly hoping May was by his side, while at the same time ashamed of and puzzled by that particular impulse; he was the team leader after all, and he did pride himself on his better paternal instinct. Anyway, he just had to improvise, "how about this. First, you cannot get out of this house without at least one of us being with you. It's for your own safety." The kid didn't give much of an reaction. "Second, whenever you make a promise to me or Agent May, it's really important that you keep it. " It was slightly unconventional, he knew, but a mild success, since the kid visibly straightened up a little. "And last, keep in mind that this is not a foster home." He smirked to himself when the kid just stared at him.

"That's it?" she asked skeptically.

"Yeah, think you can stick to them?"

The kid shrugged again, "Fine."

"Great. Thank you." He smiled approvingly, "Now maybe I can help you put things in your closet? I know it's too tall for you..."

The kid made a very unimpressed face at his suggestion, moved the chair behind the desk, climbed up with great agility and reached for the top shelf. She then jumped down, self-satisfaction written all over her face.

Show-off, he thought, but kept his face blank, not willing to encourage the deed, "...All right then. Just be careful when you do that."

"Once I climbed up the water pipe and sneaked a jar of worms into Mrs. Lynn's room. She's the latest foster mom. " the kid bragged, eyeing him boldly, clearly waiting for his reaction.

Luckily he had been practicing unreadable expression for decades; he was able to proceed in a fairly neutral way, "Do you know what 'even monkeys fall out of trees' means?"

The kid shook her head, but seemed curious.

"It means that you should always be very careful, no matter how many times you've done it." Because the bad thing happened at the most unexpected time, he added to himself bitterly. He thought back to that life-changing incident, when his best friend went in and came out as a different person. It was supposed to be an innocent routine mission, but everything had gone wrong. After that, all of their ritual after-work drinks or light-hearted banter had vanished into the thin air; that part of himself was dead there, too. May's brave face, with that forced smile right before she went in, was haunting him again; at that moment, she was trying so hard to be strong for both of them. Her exact word had been "you're so gonna buy me a drink after this"; he never got the chance.

"I will be careful." Soft voice drew him out of reminiscence, but his mind still lingered in the overwhelming nostalgia-a courtesy of aging, he sighed. Vaguely, he discerned the frizzle of a pan far way from the kitchen, which made things even more surreal. He refocused on the girl and saw her little face, confused and worried, realizing that he must be wearing a strange expression. "Sorry, what did you just say? "

"I promise that I will be careful." repeated the kid. Coulson wasn't even sure whether she meant a "promise" promise, or she was simply mimicking adult phrasing, but it generated such a surge of warmth and adoration, and his pain was eased a little.

"Thank you." he cleared his voice, deciding to change the subject, "Well, I'm gonna see if Agent May in the kitchen has whipped those steak into well-done. " he winked at the girl, "Join us when you finish here."

The girl blushed, and giggled. And Coulson thought it was the most beautiful sound he had heard in a very long time.


TBC

E.A. L. Runaway asked whether Coulson and May knew it was Skye in the review. Originally, I think since it wouldn't be hard for them to access to foster care document, they must know about Skye's old name. But now I think it would be more fun (and still realistic) if they didn't know at the beginning. However, they were very smart agents.

And I would really appreciated it if you can help me on this:

I would like to know are there any Canon explanation of the meaning of the name "Skye"? I did some research, and it seemed to be just a rare cool name without much of etymology.

As you can see, I'm purposely avoiding referring to Skye as Mary Sue, and I would like to cross that dreadful name off my mind as soon as possible.

Thank you again for reading and reviewing. Thoughts about the plot are most welcomed.