AN: Hey all, I had time to write between my classes, so here's the next section in this story. I still don't own any part of Agents of SHIELD, I know most of you must have assumed that I bought the entire franchise in a day, but sadly I did not. So, here it goes.
Agent Coulson could count on one hand the number of times that he had felt the urge to punch someone in the face. Granted, he only had one real hand so, that was probably a good thing. But, that was beside the point. This was one of those times. As Coulson stormed through the hallways of The Playground, he was ready to send his robotic fist straight into the Director's face.
Coulson was about to enter the Director's office, but he stopped for a minute. He needed to cool off, while he did feel extremely emotionally involved in the events that had transpired while he had been gone. Rushing into the office and yelling would only make this situation worse. Releasing a deep breath, Coulson rounded the corner and walked into the office.
"Sir, I would like to have a word," Coulson told the Director.
"Coulson, I had a feeling I was going to have a meeting with you tonight," Director Mace said, turning so that he could lean back on the desk as Coulson spoke.
"Sir, permission to speak freely," Coulson started.
"I imagine that you're going to speak freely whether or not I give you my permission," Mace said, gesturing to Coulson to just go ahead.
"Melinda May has been through Hell. She went down and fought Satan himself," Coulson began, he struggled to keep himself in check. He didn't want to blow up. "She fought him, and she won. That's what she does, she's a fighter. You told her that she couldn't be a fighter anymore. Sir, you took away her identity. I would like to know why? She's by far the most skilled specialist. She trained Romanoff and Barton. So, why wouldn't you want her in the field?"
"Coulson, I don't think you fully understand the situation," Mace tried to interject, but Coulson was on roll.
"No, sir, I do understand. I understand completely," Coulson spat out. "You sent me and Mack out the moment you heard that May was waking up. You must have known that she was going to react the way you did. Which only leaves me with the belief that you wanted May to leave. You wanted her to leave, but you didn't want to fire her. You knew if you fired May, then you would lose Simmons, Fitz, Mack, and me. I don't know why you wanted May gone, but I swear to God above and Satan below, I'm going to find out."
"Mel, you can't take the bench with you," Clint said gently. They had taken a moment to sit on a park bench while on the walk back to the Avengers facility. But, when they had started to continue walking they had run into a small issue. May really wanted to bring the bench with her.
"Buuuut, Cliiiint, I want it," May argued, in her drunken state her words mixed together and she sounded like a little kid complaining to their parents.
"Mel, you have to leave it," Nat tried to reason. But, May just went right back to trying to drag the bench with her. There was going to be no reasoning with the former specialist today. She had a goal, and when drunk May had a goal, she was going to achieve it.
"I didn't think she had more to drink than you," Clint stated to Natasha. He moved and sat down of the park bench that May was currently trying to move. She didn't seem to notice. She also didn't seem to have notice that the bench was bolted to the ground.
"She had four more shots when you went to the bathroom," Natasha confessed, she sat down next to him.
"Do you know what's going on with her?" Clint asked, he knew that May was more likely to share something with Nat than him. The two had always been closer than he had been. It was like a girl code or something.
"All I know is she hurt her leg, Director Mace told her she couldn't go back in the field and so she quit," Natasha said, Clint nodded, he had gotten the same brief story. Even that small amount of information he had been forced to pry from her.
"Maybe we should call Phil," Clint suggested, Natasha shook her head. "C'mon Nat, the last time she was this drunk was when she thought Phil was dead."
"It's different this time," Natasha whispered as May pulled herself onto the bench, having left her crutches on the ground. "Did you get the bench?"
"No, the damn thing isn't moving," May said, pouting. "I'm just going to take a nap now."
With that, May curled into Clint's shoulder and closed her eyes. Making eye contact, Clint and Natasha sighed. Clint hoisted May up and hung her over his shoulder. While, Natasha leaned down and grabbed the crutches from underneath the bench.
"C'mon Mel, we're going home," Clint said, patting May's back.
"Nooooo. My bench!" May called out, squirming for a second before giving up and laying limp on Clint's shoulder, softly crying about leaving the bench behind.
AN: So, I hope you enjoyed drunk May. I will try and update tomorrow. I'm planning on bringing Daisy into the story soon, for all of you Daisy Johnson fans (carebear02). Leave any questions or comments you have. Hasta maƱana amigos.
