Melinda's apartment didn't really feel like hers. It was one of the randomly assigned SHIELD apartments, located in strategic points in the city, designed especially for agents who were mostly in the field. The primary colors were grey and white, the main design scheme, minimalist. The apartment was small, but not cramped. It lacked the qualities of a home that is totally inhabited, there were no framed photographs, the bookshelves were mostly bare, the counters were spotless. The entryway of the apartment led into a small living room, with a grey couch, wooden coffee table, and outdated television set. The kitchen was small, almost miniscule, the right size for a single business woman who didn't date, never cooked and rarely ate in. The bathroom was about the same size, and just about as empty, and the bedroom contained a bed, a closet, and not much more. The only indication that anyone lived in the barren apartment was the suitcase next to the door, and the huge pile of mail next to it.

"Hello?" A woman knocked on the door of the almost empty apartment, and the sound reverberated off of the bare walls, causing the sleeping Melinda to wake with a snort. Shaking herself awake, Melinda stretched. It wasn't like her to fall asleep on the couch. Her stomach growled noisily, drawing her attention to the noise that woke her. Melinda's long, dark hair was escaping the tight braid she had plaited the night before as she read covert operations files. She was wearing pajama pants and a grey t-shirt without a bra.

"Great," She muttered to herself. "I look like a sorority girl during finals week." Shrugging, she walked to the door, quickly grabbing a bra from her suitcase and pulling it on under her shirt.

"Hello?" The knocking on her door continued, intensifying to a rapid, insistent tapping.

Melinda looked through the underused peep-hole and saw a small blonde woman on the other side, holding a large purse and the contents of a small filing cabinet.

Melinda sighed, her forehead against the cool wood of the door. She had no choice. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door, instantly assuming a calm facial expression. It was her interrogation face.

"You're Marsha Alcott?" She asked, standing in the doorway.

The woman was short, and blonde. She was barely five feet tall, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater. She looked haphazardly put together, she was wearing two different earrings, and her hair was unevenly brushed. The short blonde woman raised her eyebrows at Melinda and handed her a driver's license from the pocket of her coat. She somehow managed to juggle the half a dozen, thick files she was carrying in addition to the bag she had slung over her shoulder.

"Good enough, Agent May?" She asked, her tone unimpressed by the reception she was receiving.

"It will suffice. Come in." Melinda stood aside and let the woman into her apartment.

A moment later, the two women sat in silence on opposite ends of the small couch on which Melinda had spent the night, in awkward silence.

"So," Marsha began, wiping her palms on her jeans. "Why am I here, exactly?"

"I got your name from Agent Coulson." Melinda said. "I needed someone discreet."

"What for?" Marsha asked, directly.

"I'm pregnant." Melinda said, in a voice with no inflection.

Marsha was speechless. "Oh. That's not deeply personal from an almost complete stranger. So," She cleared her throat self-consciously. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm not sure. What would you normally recommend?" Melinda asked. She was uncomfortably out of her depth when it came to the whole reproductive process. Sex she could handle. Sex she understood, she was good at. But she had never intended to have children.

"Honestly, Agent May, I'm not sure what to tell you. I'm not an OBG-YN, I'm a cardiologist." Marsha replied, slightly confused.

"I just need to know how to proceed from here." Melinda said, calmly, not allowing her voice to betray her inner frustration. How could this woman not understand? She didn't get it, there was literally no way forward that she could understand. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Well . . ." Marsha trailed off awkwardly. "I assume you've decided to carry the pregnancy to term?"

"I guess." Melinda said, slowly. there were choices to be made, and she had no idea how any of them should be tackled. She hardly even knew what they were.

"Is there a . . . father in the picture?" Marsha asked, hesitantly.

"Mine is dead, so is the baby's." Melinda said, her voice toneless.

"Well, are you experiencing morning sickness?" Marsha asked, grasping at straws.

"Frequently." Melinda said, her voice still without inflexion.

"Are you taking any prenatal vitamins?"

"No."

"Well, that's a place to start." Marsha said, hopefully. Her anxiety was mounting. Agent May seemed a bit eerily calm, and it made her feel nervous. "I'll have that taken care of, you should start on those as soon as possible."

"Okay."

"Have you thought about what you're going to do about work? You won't be cleared physically for field work in your condition." Marsha told her.

"I haven't taken a vacation since I started at SHIELD. I've saved up enough vacation time." Melinda calculated.

"How far along are you?" Marsha asked, carefully.

"Two months."

"Alright, I'd suggest you go on leave at once, and I'll arrange an appointment for you-"

"No." Melinda May's face was stony as she turned to face Marsha, looking her straight in the face for the first time since her arrival. "No one can know."

"Why not?" Asked Marsha, nonplussed.

"Because I'm a SHIELD agent." Melinda said simply. "It's my life."

"That's not necessary-" Marsha began.

"It is. That's the way I am, Doctor Alcott." Melinda cut her off, her gaze flinty. "I cannot be a mother."

"Alright," Marsha said, attempting a calm tone. "So, you can give the child up for adoption. But someone's going to have to know about it. You have to see doctors-"

"You'll treat me here." Melinda said, seeing another choice ahead of her. "SHIELD has eyes everywhere but inside this apartment. I have no family, no close friends, only coworkers. No one will think anything of my disappearance, I'll be on vacation. I'll cover my tracks, call in favors with the IT department, who can make me appear to be in Tibet or Mongolia. I'll disappear for a few months, and come back as if it never happened."

"If that's what you want, Agent May." Marsha said, bemused. "I'll help you."

"It is what I want." Melinda confirmed. "And thank you."