Thanks to Monker for her suggestions. All SPaG errors are mine. This chapter is for my sister as she kept asking me where was Chapter 4.


By the time Coulson gets to the lab, the gob of Green Ecto Organic Radiated Goop has been christened George, and it has started to purr. Melinda informs him in a deadpan voice, "The kids want a pet. They've named him George, the gigantic gob of green alien goop."

"Crap, they named it? I hate when they do that." Naming is bad, because that means they're growing attached to the big pile of goop. No pets allowed on the bus. None. None at all.

"Worse than that, they fed it. That was all the excitement was about. It put a tentacle into Ward's coffee mug. It seems to like coffee."

"No, no, no," Phil protests. "George is too young to drink coffee. Oh good God, did I just call it George?"

"You did," she agrees. "The kids wanted Jemma to see George but I told them no."

"You're calling him 'George'," he points out.

It's reassuring in a vague sort of way that Melinda has fallen under George's sway. And yet, again, it most assuredly isn't.

"Well, I kept Simmons away from 'George'."

"Thank you," he said. Of all team, only Melinda knows that he's relieved Simmons of active duty. The rest think that her status is in limbo because of her transfer. That, if necessary and Agent May approves, they can still call on her for help. Her draft emails where she had expressed her fear that she was falling apart had convinced him that he needed to get her out of the field and into Karla's office for intensive therapy.

Fitz is helping me. I need dear, sweet Fitz, to help me keep it together. I have to keep it together; else they'll take me out of the lab. I need my lab. It's the only thing I can control. Everything else is falling apart, but my lab isn't. I'm scared that I'm losing it.

He knows that he had failed at protecting her in the cell because the guards had hurt her. Now that they were out, Phil Coulson is refusing to fail Jemma Simmons again.

He had figured it was a kindness and less embarrassing to Jemma that her former team members believe that she was inactive due to being placed on another team. Naturally that was before George appears and disrupts his best laid plans and they are in a dire need of a biochemist. "I think we need to tag it and bag it."


It quickly becomes apparent to one and to all that George does not wish to be tagged.

George really doesn't desire to be bagged, either.

It also seems that George has a bit of an issue with caffeine as he's doubled in size, and his purr is no longer comforting. No, it's a hiss.

"Phil." Melinda says his name in that way. Translated: Phil, George may damage my bus if you don't handle it and quickly.

"Yes, it looks like a job for our resident biochem expert," he says. He winces as George gravitates toward the electrical socket. There's a brief power surge and several loud explosions as Fitz's toys pop. "That sounds expensive."

He presses his ear piece and requests that Simmons join them in the lab.

"She'll be fine," Melinda assures him while they are busy with resetting the various electrical breakers and ensuring that fail safes are operational.

"I worry."

Not just about Jemma.

But his entire team was splintering before his eyes. He feels powerless to stop it.

Really, he had hoped Fitz and Ward would be able to resolve this issue themselves. Phil Coulson doesn't have the energy to referee every disagreement on the damn bus. Pre-Coulson-Ka-Bob, he would have energy to spare.

Not now.

Not when he feels... new... in his own body.

He doesn't like the fact that the lingering wounds from Ward's Bezerker 'Roid Rage Rant had inflicted on Fitz were still raw and infected. Skye had lost Melinda's goodwill with the Miles business and Jemma was running scared. One time, the old Phil Coulson would have locked everyone in a room, and kept them in it, until they had passed around the talking stick, bitched a lot and ended with everyone hugging each other and singing Kumbaya.

Or threatened them with a good Tasering until they behaved. He's partial to that solution as he's way behind on watching SuperNanny. He's learned so much about dealing with small children aka Super Heroes with Big Egos by watching Jo Frost.

But he's tired.

Out of sorts. His skin doesn't fit right as it's too small.

May's polite but not too polite as she gives him that look. The look where she doesn't say one word but her opinion is loud and clear. For example, right now, she's calling him an overly protective fusspot. And that comment has been cleaned up for younger readers.

"Don't," he sternly protests. "You can't even pretend that you don't worry about your little cubs. Let me worry about the one that likes me best."

"I like you best," she assures Phil.

Phil attempts to be a gentleman but he gives her his best, and it's pretty damn good because he's known her for decades, Melinda-May-Eye-Roll-of-Amused-Do-You-Think-I-Join ed-SHIELD-this-morning Disbelief.

George, unhappy that nobody likes him best, decides to play again with the electric.

He taps his ear piece. "Simmons, do you think you could expedite your response?"


The kid does good, he approvingly notes. There's a moment where she's shaky as there's another power surge but she takes a deep breath and solves the issue.

However points must be deducted for the sheer messiness of her solution.

Fire extinguishers.

Which causes George to shrink down in size and Coulson is able to tag him and bag him. George gives a plaintive little 'whiff' when he's put in containment, but Coulson is not fooled one bit. He sends the kids to the showers, and he starts cleaning the mess.

Really, fire extinguishers?

Messy, and it's his bus which means Fury will be pissed. Melinda joins him in cleanup so Mom and Dad have time for a serious conversation.

"Her transfer request was never signed," Melinda begins while he's scrubbing the floor.

"Really?" he asks. He doesn't even bother trying to sound innocent because Melinda is smiling in approval.

"Got me worried there, Coulson. I thought you had actually given up on her." He doesn't say anything but Melinda touches his shoulder. "Then I realized that Phil Coulson never gives up on anyone, even if they're barricaded in The Level 3 Dungeon, creating red tape. What are you planning?"

"Taking her to Boston for a weekend of jazz and dancing. Separate rooms, Melinda. I hope we can hash this matter out between us. She's afraid of me and my supposed contempt of her alleged weakness. That's why she's leaving."

"Not the complete truth, Phil," Melinda chastises him.

Of all the people on the bus, Melinda intimately understands about being so wounded that you retreat from everything.

"I read her emails," he admits and Melinda shakes her head. "There's a lot going on in that exceedingly brilliant mind of hers. She and I need to hash it out."

"Don't let her fall in love with you," is Melinda's wise comment. "A crush is bad enough but...from personal experience I know how easy..."

She says nothing but he gives her a warm smile that's reserved only for Melinda May.

"Promise," he says. "I'd say cross my heart and hope to die, but I've been there, done that, got the foot long scar."

Her eyes quickly blink, which is her only response to his flippant comment, but he realizes that he's said too damn much to Melinda May, who knows him the best of anyone. Of all the team, she's the only one that knows how much New York still bothers him.

"Are you trying to prove something to yourself, Phil?" she quietly asks. "Trying to fix someone because you can't fix yourself?"

"Aren't you secretly flattered that you have all those little ducklings that have a crush on you?" It's his pointed retort that people that fly in airplanes shouldn't throw stones or fire guns, or they should wear their parachutes or some shit like that.

"Yes and no," she admits. "It's too much of a responsibility..." Melinda May pauses as the truth hits too close to home. "I won't tell you to be good to her because I know you will. However, I want the address of the hotel; just in case of an alien invasion. We're overdue for one."

Her tone is brisk but he knows her so very well that he's not fooled.

"Planning on it," he quips.


Phil doesn't tell Jemma what he's planning. Just that they'll meet at two on Friday and she's to bring enough clothes for a weekend. Their required meetings over the past few days have been particularly stressful for Jemma. But like most emotional wounds, they've been completely self-inflicted.

Coulson has been rather quiet, letting her lead the conversations or not, depending on her mood. The incident with George had made Jemma realize how much she'll miss being part of a team, THIS team. There's so much that she wishes to say, but she can't voice it.

Am I making a mistake leaving?

Will you miss me? Will you miss the silly little slip of a girl who fancies you?

Not even to herself.

He doesn't push and insist on talking; instead they share quiet time while drinking caffeinated beverages. She does ask him to stop wearing his hat; because it deeply disturbs her that he feels he needs to hide from her. Phil easily agrees, placing it on the table. He runs his hand through his quite short hair and makes a dry quip about it being finally long enough to hide the physical scars.

"But the scars that matter the most are the ones you can't see," he says.

She looks away and bows her head when he squeezes her hand. And hopes that he doesn't see the tears in her eyes. However she doesn't fool Coulson. Not one bit. "You're far stronger than you credit yourself. I don't know anyone who jumps out of airplanes without a parachute, unless you're Tony Stark. Even odds that he was pushed."

The last day on the bus had been surprisingly difficult, even ignoring the sheer physical effort required to pack her stuff. The team with the exception of Coulson, helps her finish her packing and brings her items out to the short bus. He's nowhere to be found, and Lola is missing from the garage.

It stings a little, OK, a great deal, but realistically she knows that he's very busy. Probably he worries that she'll make a skirking scene, so he wishes to avoid it. Most men can't handle tears.

Meanwhile Skye insists ... insists... on having a farewell party for her. It's at a bar, where there's a band with a female singer that's quite good. The rest of the team is there, and they are trying hard to be upbeat and cheerful.

Coulson makes an appearance an hour or so after everyone's arrived. He apologizes for being late; bemoaning the fact that George had required him to spend the entire day at HQ. While the others were casually dressed, he's still wearing a suit.

Skye, being the mistress of ceremonies, ensures the boys dance with Jemma. Fitz had been awkward and Ward smooth but Coulson... Coulson... It had taken the team cat calling him before he asks her for a dance. To her surprise, Phil Coulson can dance. Rather well, she discovers even though he protests how much he hates rock music.

She doesn't care, as his arm is around her and he smells like Phil. She's all left feet and jitters and awkwardness as he's holding her. Fortunately, Phil's quite patient as he guides her through the steps. Jemma can't help but wonder what he'd be like as a lover, if he's that patient with her two left feet. It's enough to make her blush and her heart skip a beat.

They slow dance for two songs before Melinda taps Phil on the shoulder and informs him that it's her turn. A slightly (OK, very) disappointed Jemma returns back to their table where a slightly buzzed Skye is watching the two senior agents dance. Melinda is quite athletic, and Phil and Melinda are putting on quite the show. Twirls, fancy footwork, even a few matching hand gestures that make the two senior agents laugh. Again, Jemma marvels at the tight friendship between the two agents.

"They are so doing it," insists Skye. Jemma continues to smile but her heart skips a beat or three. Really in a choice between Melinda May and Jemma Simmons, there is no competition.

"No," Ward insists.

"Seriously, they are. Look how they dance together," Skye protests. "Fitz? Don't you think they're doing it?"

"They are not doing it," insists Ward. "They're divorced."

"From each other?" spits Fitz.

"Yes." Ward says."They've been divorced for years."

Skye shivers and Wards just stares at her. It seems that Jemma wasn't the only one that didn't know about Phil and Melinda. However, she's not sure why Skye looks so... ill.

"Come on, it's like imaging your parents having sex," the hacker explains in a very disgusted tone. Then in a softer voice, she adds, "If you knew who they were in the first place."


Phil ... sorry, Coulson, buys several rounds of drinks for team and he orders something in particular for Jemma. Whatever it is, it's wonderful and it doesn't taste like alcohol. She has three and is about to have a fourth, when Coulson cuts her off. It's distinctively unfair, as he and Melinda are doing shots of brennivĂ­n. It's a liquor they've developed a taste for after a tour in Iceland.

"Sir!" She protests.

"It's been a long day for me, so I have to call it an early night. I have to close my tab," Coulson says. He stands and nods his head. "Good night, everyone."

He leaves and the team watches him exit.

"He didn't even wish you good luck," Fitz protests after he is sure the senior agent is gone.

"He's very upset about you leaving the team," Sky insists. "He won't admit it because he's the usual emotionally buttoned up male. Except in AC's case, there is the matching tie and handkerchief. He should be more comfortable expressing his emotions. Like Fitz here."

Skye is slightly tipsy so she hugs a blushing Fitz.

"You could learn a few things from him, Ward," continues Skye.

"Coulson?" Ward asks.

"Fitz," inserts Melinda.

"May!" Really, Ward sounds almost plaintive at this 'betrayal' from May.

"No, not the marvelous Ward, who jumps out of planes and saves people. He couldn't learn anything from anybody, especially not from Leo Fitz, who doesn't jump out of planes and has never saved anyone." Fitz is slightly tipsy so his filter is off.

Ward, not having the best people skills, still does a double take as he realizes that Fitz may have supposedly forgiven his Berserker 'Roid Rage comments but he hasn't forgotten.

"Fitz," Simmons protests in a very soft tone. "Please."

"Coulson's right. I think we've had enough to drink." Mama Duck Melinda puts her foot down hard because it's bad enough Coulson has put a damper on the party, but 'Little Bear' Fitz is not a happy drunk. She also knows that there is more to his comment about not saving people than just Ward Grant. No, not at all, but why does she think it's directed towards Coulson? "Plus, it's getting late. I wish you the best of luck, Jemma. Keep in touch. Fitz, I'll drive you home as I think you're in no condition to drive. Skye, you're staying where tonight?"

"Fitz's flat," Skye bubbles. "Did I get the term right?"

Fit nods and Skye giggles. "Then tomorrow I get to use Simmons' place as she's out of town for a long weekend."

"Good, you can drive Fitz's car over and Ward, I'll see you tomorrow in the gym." Melinda announces in such a commanding tome and it's only after Skye is in Fitz's car that she wonders why she just didn't drive Fitz home.


May and Fitz end in a coffee shop and she motions for Fitz to sit. Then she sits across the table from him and begins the patented-Melinda-May-interrogation. "Have a cookie?"

With a copious amount of coffee and pointed questioning, May manages to delve Leo Fitz's problem. He believes that he has failed Jemma because he couldn't help her keep it together.

"She wanted to stay with us, but she was shaky. Loud noises made her jump. One time she had a spot on her shirt, so I brushed it. She just freaked out because mentally, she was back in the cell. She was terrified of Ward because he reminded her of what happened. May, I shouldn't feel guilty. If bloody Coulson, Living SHIELD legend, the Undead Super Agent, couldn't help her, how could I?"

After a long sip of tea, Fitz announces, "I'm requesting reassignment back to SCI-OPS. I am simply not suitable to be a field agent. Coulson should request Flannagan and Patel for the team. They're field certified, maybe even good enough to satisfy Mr. I-jump-out-of-airplanes Ward."

Shit. She needs to put two fires out as Phil has his hands full with Jemma. It seems that the tag team of FitzSimmons had been a buffer for Ward's brusque manner but now Fitz was feeling abandoned and adrift.

"Did you tell Coulson?" she asks.

A shake of his head answers that question.

"Do you trust me?' She asks. "Think about it. Do you trust me enough to postpone your resignation until Tuesday? Between you and me, Coulson never submitted the transfer paperwork because he hopes to convince Simmons to stay."

"Funny way of doing it," quips Fitz.

"He's backing off enough to give her a chance to breathe. Don't submit your resignation just yet."

He nods his head and Melinda May gives an internal sign of relief.

"Have another cookie," Mama Melinda insists.


Coulson is in bed when his personal cell rings. There are maybe five people in the entire world who have it (and one off world). He knows who it is when "It Don't Mean a Thing if it Aint' Got that Swing" plays.

"Melinda?" he answers. "Do you need bail money?"

Really, that's the only reason Melinda would call in the middle of the night.

"If you can't convince Simmons to stay, Fitz will leave." That was Melinda, no hello, good morning, just a sucker punch to the gut.

"Tell me something that I don't already know," Phil says as he rolls over onto this stomach. He looks at his clock in true disbelief. "You called me at three oh three for this?"

Well, while he did sound a bit cross, he really wasn't. Because she had preempted his usual Tahiti nightmare at 3:07 AM.

"It's more. Fitz, Ward."

"Say no more. I'll ditch Ward if I can keep Fitz," Phil offers. Not that he wants to get rid of Ward, but he's spoken to him about how to treat his team members. And spoken to him again and then spoke yet again. Fitz was a mind that came along twice in a generation while it was far easier to replace Ward. "It didn't get better between them?"

"It did, but it was never fully resolved. With Simmons gone, Fitz won't have a Ward-Buffer. I convinced Fitz not to submit his resignation until Tuesday. Get Simmons back, Fitz will stay and I'll deal with Ward. Got your back, Coulson."

"Thanks."


Later that morning, May spars with Ward and turns him into mince meat suitable for Christmas pies. She refuses to pull her punches and Wards quickly realizes that she's serious. After a series of blows that end with him prostrate on the mat, he says, "Uncle. What's the reason for the beating, May?"

"I thought it might be beneficial to remind you that not everyone has the same strengths and abilities," she smiles but it really isn't a smile.

She offers him a hand and she helps him off the floor. He winces as his ribs are feeling a might tender. He doesn't even want to mention his pride.

"Let me guess. This entire Wipe-the Gym-Floor-with-Ward's-Ego is about Fitz's comment last night?"

"Got it in one. He's requesting a transfer off the team," May says. "Not just because Simmons' is returning back to SCI-OPS."

"Because of me?" Ward asks.

She nods her head.

"Coulson really has one choice in this matter. Let Fitz and his brilliant mind go or get rid of someone who is only good for lifting heavy objects and pissing off his team mates. Really, Fitz' only problem is that he likes haggis. Brawns like you and me, dime a dozen. Well, I'm worth more, but you aren't. Your mission, one which you will be accepting, is to get Fitz back on the team. "

"Even if I am able to do it, which is doubtful, Simmons is still transferring," he slowly admits.

"Coulson's working on Simmons," Melinda admits. "You get Fitz. You might want to ask Skye for assistance. She and FitzSimmons are friendly."

He nods his head.

"Ward, wanting to protect people, it's a good thing. But sometimes words wounds more than physical blows. Go get our Little Bear back on the team. I know you can do it," Melinda softly says.

"I don't know if I can," he admits. "I'm not good with..."

"Do it," she interupts.


Jemma has packed, unpacked and repacked a half dozen times. She's also cleaned her flat... no, apartment until it's tidy as Skye will be staying there while she's away. That done, she realizes that she has four hours before Coulson arrives for their weekend.

She catches her reflection in the mirror and she sighs. Peter pan collars and knit sweaters will simply not do for a night of dancing. Really, that little pink dress that Skye had worn that one time; that would be perfect. While nothing would ever come of it, Jemma Simmons wants to wear something that will cause Phil Coulson's jaw to dislocate.

Decision made, Jemma Simmons nods her head.

It's time for drastic measures.

It's time for a Code - Bad Girl Shenanigans.

Yes, it's time for fashion advice from Skye.


Skye throws her bags into Ward's truck.

"Thanks for the lift," she says as she bounces into the passenger seat. "Sorry I didn't call you back right away. Fashion emergency. Simmons has a hot date this weekend. Lots of girl talk. I'd tell you more but I know how easily embarrassed you are."

Ward arches one expressive eyebrow and Skye deflates. "Ok, she didn't come out and say it, but ... it sounds like it. I'm glad. After all she's been through recently; I hope she has a wonderful weekend."

"How's Fitz?"

"I don't know. He got home late, slept in and since he got up; he's been busy with one of the dwarves."

"He's leaving the team," Ward informs her. "Because of me."

"Oh, that entire Mr. Nasty Pants with a Big Alien Stick Incident? You were really vicious to all of us, but especially cruel to Fitz. I'm just telling you because as my SO, I'm working on developing a relationship of complete honesty. Quite frankly, the silver bracelet doesn't go with my rings."

She taps her SHIELD babysitter bracelet and smiles.

"You hit every single one of his sensitive points. I can't blame him for not wanting to deal with you. Pardon my language, but you were an utter bastard and a bully to boot. It's not like you, Ward, so I can get past it, but you hit him hard."

In a softer voice, Skye adds, "In my situation, you get used to it. Have to develop a tough skin, but FitzSimmons, they haven't. I don't whether to envy or pity them.

Ward says nothing but his hands clutches the steering wheel so hard that it's wonder he doesn't rip it off the dash.

"Jemma knows him best. If we get to her apartment early you can talk to her. Make it quick as I think Mr. Hot Date is due to arrive in about thirty minutes. She's really bubbly about it, so I wish I could see him. Just to check him out to see if he's right for her."

Ward snorts but he shifts the car into drive and pulls away. Within a few minutes, they're at Jemma's apartment. A black Jeep neatly parallel parks in the parking spot they wanted, the lone parking spot for miles, and the driver steps out. It's an older man, thinning hairline and he's wearing sunglasses. It doesn't hide the fact that he's well known by both of them. The man peers at his reflection and straightens out his sleeves and tie. When he reaches into the Jeep to reveal a bouquet of flowers, Skye gasps.

"Jemma's hot date is AC?" she squeaks. "Oh my God."

When Simmons opens her apartment door and Coulson gives her a kiss on the cheek, Ward guns the motor and leaves the scene of the crime.

"Oh my God, oh my God," Skye keeps repeating. "I hope she didn't buy the dress I suggested. I don't think after being stabbed in the heart that AC's ticker will be able to handle Jemma in that dress."

"It can't be that bad," Ward insists.

She pulls out her phone and shows Ward. He nearly drives his car off the road and only through quick reflexes is he able to recover.

"Are you trying to kill Coulson?" He spits.

"I didn't know it was for AC! I didn't think to ask if her boyfriend had cardiac clearance!"


For the trip to Boston, Phil regretfully decides not to use Lola. She's a lady of delicate sensibilities, and Boston can be a rough town, so he decides to take his Jeep instead. Plus the entire weekend-with-a-red-corvette-and-a- young-lady-who-was-young-enough-to-be-his-daughter just screams, "Afterlife Crisis".

He's nervous.

Can he admit that?

It's been far too long since he's been on a 'date'.

If this could even classify as a 'date'.

He picks out his best suits and spends far too long on ties. After they're neatly packed, he triples checks the various reservations, makes sure he has enough firepower and cash to cover every contingency except for emergency surgery and that he has flowers.

Pink and White Calla Lilies tied with a pink bow.

He grabs the last parking space in front of her apartment and he nervously rechecks his appearance. One, two, three long inhaletions and exhalations and he's ready for battle.

"Well, Miss Simmons of the thirty seven doctorates when I said that I was letting you win, you never defined what I believed winning meant. It's certainly not you hiding in your lab. You may be far smarter than I could ever hope to be, but I play dirty."

He knocks on her door and she opens it. She's wearing a nervous smile, so he hands her the flowers before he leans down and gives her a kiss on her cheek. She blushes, which is terribly cute. Stop it, Phil, his inner voice chastises him.

"Are you ready for a truly excellent time in Boston?" he asks.

Jemma Simmons blushes and nods her head.

"Wonderful."