I'm sorry it took me that much to update this... Here is chapter 2! :) Where Coulson can't stop thinking about the woman he loves and helps Jemma with her own problems. Enjoy!

Whatever he did, no matter what he read or how much he tried to sleep, he couldn't keep his thoughts return again and again to Melinda May.

He loved her. And everyone seemed to know it, but she didn't. He liked seeing her smile helplessly when one of their kids, (yes, they were their kids), did something crazy. He liked how she practiced Tai Chi every morning, so strong and delicate at once.

Every night she went to his office, either for drinking a glass of scotch and talk about the old times or just to do some paperwork, he could not be happier. He knew that he put a stupid grin every time they shared one of their complicity glances, but he let her believed that it was due to a product or an old silly memory full of nostalgia and not to the simple, yet extraordinary fact of her being there.

Sometimes they fought. They hurt each other, mostly with words or dangerous and painful promises. But, at the end of the day, they were there for each other.

On the other hand, sometimes he wondered if she really didn't see how he felt about her or if she just ignored it. To be such an intuitive person, she could be incredibly blind. Not to mention how goddamn stubborn she was.

Damn, he thought, looking at his watch and checking that it already was two on the morning. Now the rest of the team slept, including her. Probably he should sleep, but just couldn't stop thinking about her. His feelings for his old partner had done nothing but grow in recent times. Perhaps it was just that he couldn't hide it anymore.

She's driving me crazy, he complained in his mind, covering his face with his hands and rubbing his eyes. Why can't she see what I feel? Why can't she let me help her?

Finally he stood up, deciding that he wouldn't be able to get any rest if he didn't release his rage. But how? The Tai-chi or yoga weren't an option; he would probably break his back. He was so frustrated he didn't even want to read his favorite Captain America edition, to what extent had he come?

He'd like to get drunk. Drink until he could no longer remember her name, but he knew that that wasn't an option. He remember those nights in his old team when John and himself drank for the only thing that can put men in that state; a girl. Or the super bowl. But their team had never been that bad. It wasn't as if John was a hopeless romantic, but even he had fallen in love a few times.

The other thing they used to do, when a bottle wasn't viable because they were in a mission, was going to the gym and beat the crap out of a punchingbag.

Aren't you too old for that? Asked an annoying voice from the back of his head when he realized he was standing up.

Hell no.

He wasn't that old.

He was fit, right? A little rusty, as May used to tell him teasingly when they trained together, but fit.

And he was the freaking director of the freaking agency. He had all the rights to use one of the punchinbags he paid for.

Before thinking about something else, he found himself arriving to the gym. He approached one of the punchinbags and hit it hard.

"Shit!" he exclaimed.

Fine. He was more than a little rusty, okay?

However, pain felt disturbingly comforting. He punched again and again, more carefully now, but with the same energy. How was it? Ah yes, one, two, one, and two...

May. Doesn't. Love me. She had been in love before, and it hadn't worked. What did he have that Andrew couldn't have offered her while they were married? When it was about possibilities, he was pretty much screwed.

He took a deep breath. Pain felt good. Everything was good. He meant a lot to her, a lot, and whatever the hell that meant had to be enough for him. Besides, they were friends. No, they were the best friends in the world. They were a team and as close as they had been before Bahrain; maybe even more. He couldn't ruin what they had for his stupid and selfish and unrequited feelings for May.

"Sir?" said a voice behind him.

He was so focused in his task he almost jumped out of his skin. He turned around and found Jemma, who was watching him shyly at the doorway.

"Is everything, hum, okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine" he muttered, taking a step back. "I just wanted… I couldn't sleep"

The girl nodded. She was wearing leggings and a t-shirt. She had probably gone there to train, what surprised him, for he had never seen her as an exercise enthusiast. She probably was thinking the same about him, though.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, curious.

"I… Well, sometimes I come here to train when I can't sleep" admitted Simmons, somewhat embarrassed and slightly flushed. "May and Trip have taught me a few techniques, but I'm certainly not as good as Skye"

"That's because the three of them are specialists" replied Coulson, with a small smile. "I always had trouble with that"

"You?"

"Yeah. Maybe you see me now, all old and office-like, but I was a field agent, you know" he leaned on the punchinbag, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "And I think that you would be pretty good as one"

"Me? I don't think so"

"Why not? We work as a team and in a different way, that's all. And you work better with other people"

"Uhm, I guess" she said, shrugging.

"I will teach you, I promise, but not now, because it's too late… You're good at theory, am I wrong?" Jemma shook her head and he smiled. "When I was at the Academy, we had theoretical exams. I was good at it. May, who was a specialist, was a complete mess"

"Really?" she asked. It was hard to imagine May being a mess at something.

"Yeah. She always copied my exams. I let her do it because otherwise she would have failed" he said, smiling at the memory.

"I didn't know that" she commented, as if she had ever had the chance to find it out. "Sir, you're bleeding" she observed, pointing at his hand.

He looked down at it and realized that she was right. His knuckles were bloody and folding his hand it hurt a lot.

"Oh. Well, it's nothing" he muttered, shrugging. He frowned, wondering how he would explain it to May the next day.

"If we go to the lab I can patch it up, sir" said Simmons. "I don't think it's anything serious, nobody will see it tomorrow" she added, as if she could read his mind.

"Okay" the director agreed.

They made their way to the lab in silence. Jemma turned on the light and washed her hands, forcing him to do the same as she took a first-aid kit from a drawer. He sat on a table and she took his right hand, examining it.

"They are only superficial wounds" she commented, more for herself than to him.

She released his hand and grabbed a bottle of alcohol. Soaked a cotton with liquid and cleaned his knuckles gently, trying not to make it sting.

"What were you thinking?" Coulson suddenly asked.

"Excuse me?"

"I meant why you weren't sleeping. You look exhausted and tomorrow is going to be a long day" he murmured. "If I can ask, of course"

"No, it's fine. It's just that…" the girl sighed as she applied a different cram to alleviate the pain. "I was pissed. I don't know"

"Fitz?"

Jemma just nodded. She finished bandaging his right hand and began working in the other.

"I'm afraid he won't let me help him…"

Coulson cursed himself inside. Both had been thinking about their partner, but she just looking for a way to fix things and he to find a reason of why May should love him. Damn, why did he have to be so selfish? However, a part he kept reminding him that he understood what she felt at that moment.

"It's hard, isn't it?" he finally said. "You try to help him, but you don't know how or if he will let you do it. Or if you'll be able to fix it. That's the worst part"

"How can you know that?"

He sighed, putting his bandaged hand on her shoulder. "Because I went through something similar" he confessed. "A lot of years ago"

"For real?"

"For real… It wasn't the same thing, of course, she didn't almost drown or something like that… But she… Something very traumatic happened to her, and it changed her forever. She was my best friend, you know? We were a team, like you and Fitz." Coulson's voice trailed off for a few seconds, lost in the memories and the past. "After what happened to her… I thought I had lost her for good. And somehow I did. She closed up for everyone. Even me. She could barely utter five words and sometimes I was afraid it was too late"

"And how did you know what to do?" whispered the young biochemist.

"Oh, I had no idea" he confessed, shrugging. "But she was my best friend and the most important person to me. I told myself that it was not worth giving up, and I didn't. If she didn't want to talk to me, I'd just stayed with her. If she didn't open the door of her house, I would stay for hours outside. The neighbors got used to see me out there; I think they thought I was a pathetic guy chasing his ex... I cared a damn, of course. Only once, late at night, I thought about forgetting her and move on, as everyone else, including her, had told me to do…"

"And what stopped you?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. But, to begin with, I couldn't stop that from happening even if I was there" he said, scratching his chin as he remembered that awful day. "So, well, I felt guilty and selfish. And, on the other hand… I needed her. I needed her to be by my side, to be a part of my team again… And you need Fitz, am I wrong?"

Simmons shook her head. She put the cream and the kit back in the drawer, feeling a lump in her throat and turning around so he wouldn't see her trembling lip. She never imagined that someone else could understand what was happening to her.

"That is it, then. You can't give up" said Coulson. "I'm not going to lie to you, it's gonna be hard and long. But you'll make it"

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot" she admitted, facing him again.

The director offered her a small smile. They stood up and he gave her a quick hug. She momentarily hid her face in his arms and a couple of tears rolled down her cheek. Ever since he had woken up, she had been scared, terrified, but now she knew that maybe there was a way to work things out, and she wasn't going to give up.

"Now go to sleep, Jemma" he suggested, with a paternal smirk. "You need to get some rest"

"Okay, sir… And, could I ask you one last question?" she asked shyly.

"Sure" he said, stopping by the door.

"I ... I always thought that we would always work together, you know? It was something I took for granted the day we became a team. I figured we'd be seventy and still would continue in the laboratory" she admitted. She could not help blushing slightly; after all, it was something very naive and childish. "We were ... We are a team ... Have you seen her again lately? I mean, it's not that you're seventy, nothing like that" added nervously. "But ... None of us is more than thirty years old and ... I've never seen you with someone your age but May. And you said that... Oh, Lord, I'm sorry. That's none of my business"

Coulson said nothing at first. But then he smiled a bit and nodded.

"Exactly"

Jemma's eyes opened and she couldn't do but open her mouth. That was certainly something she didn't expect. Of course that, on second thought, it was quite obvious

"Oh… I… I'm sorry, sir" she murmured.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. But, can you keep a secret?"

Simmons nodded.

"We met at the Academy, like you and Fitz. We worked as a team when that happened to her. And with that¸ I mean Bahrain, the Cavalry story you all like to manipulate so much these days. That day she changed. When she came out of that place she was broken, empty. I thought I had lost her for good"

"Oh, Lord" she muttered. "I had no idea. And, about the story we invented to mess up with Skye… I'm so sorry"

"You don't have to say that to me" said her superior, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Just don't call her like that, okay? And don't tell her we talked about it. She doesn't like it"

"Oh, of course I won't. And I promise"

"Okay… Thanks for the bandage"

"Your welcome" Simmons was about to leave when something stopped her. "Hum, sir?"

"Yes, Jemma?"

"If I can give you any advice, I… You should tell May what you feel" she murmured.

Coulson sighed. Fucking perfect. Now everyone knew it.

"You're pretty obvious…" Jemma continued, then blushed fiercely. "That was completely out of space. I'm sorry, sir"

"Hey, it's fine" he said.

"I'm just… You should tell he" said the girl. "Now that you have the chance. Not when… You have no other option"

Coulson looked into her eyes, seeing the truth and the pain behind her words. He approached her and hugged her again.

"Everything is going to be fine" he whispered in her ear.

"I hope so" she said.

"Okay. Now go to sleep" he said when he pulled apart.

"Fine. Thank you so much for everything. Good night, sir" smiled Jemma.

"Good night"

He watched her disappear down the hall without looking back. Then he made his way back to his room, feeling tired, but more relaxed. As he slid under the sheets of his bed, his thoughts turned once more to Melinda May. She was better, really better, in recent months he had seen her start to heal. However, she was still not quite right, she was still broken. He had to be like Jemma; help her and just stay by her side.

He would be his friend, had being so for decades and was quite good at it. Yes. He would keep his feelings to himself. He would be his friend. He could do that.

Or he couldn't?

That was chapter 2 :) Please post some reviews! I was thinking about adding one more chapter, what do you think?