It was the next morning when Melinda laid awake in the spare bedroom, unsure what to think about this. Unsure what to feel about this, even.

There was nothing she urgently had to do or supervise. She didn't have to meet with Gonzales, trying to figure out what his game plan was. She didn't have to see Phil and ask him - once again - all the burning questions inside her. She didn't have to do anything.

Was this what peace felt like? Was this what it felt like to press pause on almost every responsibility that she took on every single day?

She really wasn't sure what to feel about this at all.

But at least she wasn't alone.

Dinner the night before had been a quiet affair. There was an unspoken mutual agreement that anything she and Natasha really needed to say could wait. And just for the one night until they went into their separate bedrooms to sleep, they indulged themselves in the pretense that this was like any other day and hungrily soaked in each other's presence.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone alerted her to a video call from Skye.

Speaking of responsibilities.

The younger woman's face quickly appeared once she accepted the call, interrupting her once again before she could even a utter a 'Good morning' or any sort of pleasantry. "Hey, when are you coming back again?"

"Skye, I told you this. I'm coming back tomorrow."

Skye was anxiously biting at her bottom lip as she nodded. "Good, because it's really getting a little too uncomfortable around here."

The concern that had lit as soon as she saw Skye's face began to burn hotter in her chest. "Why? What happened?"

Skye shook her head, dismissing her with a wave of her hand and so clearly trying to put on a stoic mask. But even with the extensive training that they had done, Skye had never stopped wearing her heart on her sleeve.

"It's nothing. it's just- the way that everybody keeps looking at me- it makes me feel kinda- weird, y'know?"

She did know. She received those very same looks from time to time, when people realized who she was. Curious but completely afraid. And she knew they weren't really ever going to stop looking at her like that. Even in the face of truth, people remain steadfastly unchanged.

She didn't blame Skye for wanting another familiar face, especially when there were so many other unfamiliar ones walking everywhere around her, and she couldn't really be sure whether they were friendlies or not.

Melinda frowned. "Where are everybody else? Coulson? Simmons? Fitz? Bobbi?"

Skye shrugged. "They're around. They come to see me and talk but-it's just not the same."

"What about your friend? Has he woken up yet?"

The younger woman shook her head. "On and off, but Lincoln's mostly still down for the count. Jemma said that he's still healing from whatever it was they did to him so it'll be another day before he'll be really okay."

"Have you slept at all?"

Her dry chuckle confirmed what Melinda already knew, what she could clearly see from the tired look in Skye's eyes. "And how exactly am I supposed to be doing that?"

"You need your rest, Skye. You're of no use to us or your friend if you're dead on your feet."

Skye was nodding at her gentle scolding and she sighed. "I know. I'm just worried that if I go or close my eyes, they'll do something to Lincoln. Or me."

She suspected that there was more Skye wanted to say to her but she didn't seem sure on how to actually say it. She wondered if Skye wanted to tell her where she had been before they found her. She wondered if Skye would tell anybody. It wouldn't be long until Phil would get impatient and she could only hope that he would wait until she got back herself before finding out what he wanted from Skye.

"Nothing's going to happen to you. You're safe," she promised. Despite whatever secrets Phil was keeping, she knew he wouldn't let anything happen to Skye.

"I hope you're right."

Melinda sighed at the look on the younger woman's face, a stark mix of skepticism and anxiety. She couldn't really blame Skye for feeling the way she did, especially after all that happened and all that she had been through. Any other person would feel on edge too.

"Is there anything else?"

"What should I tell Coulson when he asks about you?"

"Tell him nothing. Tell him that I'll be back tomorrow."

"Right. I'm sure he'll be real happy to hear that," Skye muttered.

She refrained from saying that she didn't owe Phil any explanations as to where she was and what she was doing. If Skye had noticed the tension between them, she would have mentioned it. And Melinda didn't want her to have more cause to worry about what was currently going on for all of them. A knock on her door stopped her from replying and she looked up to see Natasha standing in the doorway.

It was time for her day to officially start, it seemed.

Turning back to Skye, she asked, "Anything else?"

"Still waiting to know on whether Clint Barton's arms are as dreamy as they look."

Once again she ignored the question, though this time the amusement in her tone was difficult to miss. "I'll see you tomorrow, Skye. Be safe and get some sleep. That's an order."

Skye sighed loudly, voicing her displeasure but she still nodded anyway. "Okay. See you tomorrow. And remember what I said: use protection!"

Natasha watched as Melinda ended the call, shaking her head and smiling to herself. She wondered who had been on the other end of that phone call since it wasn't a voice that she could easily recognize. She chuckled at the other woman's parting words to Melinda though as she walked further inside the room and sat next to her on the bed.

As soon as Natasha was next to her, Melinda reached up and ran her fingers through her red curls, prompting blue eyes to meet with her own. She had been right about how easy it was to fall back to this, to fall back to old familiar habits.

"Have you been up for very long?"

The redhead shook her head, leaning more into Melinda's touches. "Not long. Everything okay back at the base?"

Melinda nodded, pulling her hand away from those irresistible red curls to reach over and place her phone back on the bedside table. "But the day just started. Anything can happen."

"But if nothing does, you'll be heading back tomorrow anyway, right?'

She hummed in confirmation. "Clint is sending me back."

Natasha nodded, having thought as much since he was the one that tracked Melinda down in the first place. She looked around the room, taking in its very bare walls. The last time this room had been slept in was when Tony used it.

"How did you sleep? You could have slept in my room, you know."

"Why? Were you looking to recreate something?"

Little bits of memory began to flash intermittently in her mind. Images of sweaty porcelain skin, of sharp white teeth biting down on a full bottom lip, of strong hands desperately gripping at bed sheets. She was sure that she was mirroring the discerning smirk on Natasha's face.

Natasha certainly hadn't been expecting that.

She found herself leaning closer to the older woman, close enough that she could see Melinda's gaze fall to her lips. She reached out for Melinda's hand, playing with her fingers to distract herself.

"No. I just know that the bed isn't very comfortable. Stark said it was very lumpy."

Melinda shrugged, her stare so completely focused on full red lips. "I've slept in worse places."

The air was thick around them and there was nothing else. Natasha waited to see what the other woman was going to do, waited to see if she was going to let it happen, waited to see what was going to happen next.

But then she realized that Melinda was looking right at her. She was looking at her like she was the one that was waiting. Melinda's intentions were clear. And now she was waiting for Natasha to say yes, no, not yet, or maybe never again. .

But in this moment, there was only one answer for her.

Before Natasha was even done nodding, Melinda's lips were already on hers.

The last time that Natasha had kissed anybody, it had been Bruce before she pushed him. She pushed him into the void, calling for the big guy to take his place, to help save the day. And then he left. He left her.

So this time, Natasha pulled.

She pulled Melinda closer, pressed their lips harder. She pulled until her fingers dug and pulled at Melinda's shirt. She pulled Melinda into her, until all her senses were filled with all that she was. All that they were.

There was something in the taste of Natasha's kisses, the feel of her soft lips moving with hers. The way she breathed in as Natasha breathed out. It made something in her chest ease and tighten all at the same time. She didn't know if it was because of the way that Natasha held on to her, the way she kept her so goddamn close.

Natasha was just about to draw Melinda further into her until they were laying down on the very lumpy bed when the loud rumbling of Melinda's stomach echoed between them. They broke apart with breathless laughter spilling out of their lips, Melinda's forehead resting on hers and an uncharacteristically faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Hungry?"

"Starving actually."

They immediately disentangled and she caught her breath, watching as Natasha got up from the bed, attempting to smooth down her hair and her clothes. Her feet were barely planted on the floor when lips were softly pressing on her forehead and she looked up to meet those familiar blue eyes.

"To be continued later?"

Natasha released a deep breath of her own at the hushed question and nodded in absolute agreement.