Author's Note: I've been doing a lot of research for the upcoming chapters so hopefully it will pay off and come across believable and realistic. I was really disappointed with the lack of feedback from the last chapter—I don't know if the syntax wasn't entertaining enough or people just didn't enjoy it.

However, thank to Guest, Anneth27, and Pasha for their reviews. I really appreciate it!

Check out my new one-shot "Tragic" if you're so inclined. It's a team fic featuring all the season one cast. It's about 2,000 words long and features angsty Philinda.

Two fun facts for this chapters: "Lian" is a Chinese girls name meaning "the graceful willow" or "lotus". It's also used in Latin and English, and can sometimes be a boy's name. Melinda's middle name, "Qiaolian" is Chinese as well, and means "always skillful". We find out her middle name during Koenig's interrogation at Providence base.

Reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated! c.e.


CHAPTER FOUR

"So is your mom a kick ass super spy too?" Skye groaned as she almost fell out of the van that had driven them six hours towards the coast in California. May rolled her eyes and her eyes swept the area carefully, analyzing something in the wind and the trees that the hacker didn't know or understand.

"Secretary May was an undercover agent, working with violent organized crime in MI6."

Skye tilted her head a little. Did A.C. seem nervous? His hands seemed a little jumpy as he unloaded one of the duffle bags from the trunk.

"So does she know about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s collapse and HYDRA? Technically she's harboring known FBI's most wanted fugitives—" Tripp had been the lucky one, riding in the way back of the van, avoiding the long, long debate FitzSimmons had over the weather patterns of the city dealing with the frequent earthquakes caused by the moving tectonic plates and an appalling game of 'if I was on the Index, what power would I have and why'.

"Way to be a downer there, 007," Skye said raising an eyebrow as she shrugged on her backpack from the van's trunk. The others rushed to keep up with May and Coulson who both were already meters ahead of them.

"Oh she knows," May's voice was quiet, but carried across the misty forest ethereally, "it's her ultimate 'I told you so' moment." There was an undertone of bitterness that Skye had never heard from the warrior. She wasn't sure if it was directed at her mother or at S.H.I.E.L.D.

The leaves were wet from an evening storm that they had driven through on the way up. The spring air was growing warmer and buds were beginning to develop on lower bushes. There was a hum in the air that she hadn't heard in the city or on the plane. It was fresh and unknown.

"Is this the house you grew up in, Agent May?"

May seemed to find something funny in Simmons' question because she smirked as they cut through the trees. "No, this was my mother's favorite safe house while she was an agent. Since it was never compromised, she retired into it."

The group cleared through the vegetation and what they found wasn't what Skye expected.

The large homey farmhouse was the exact opposite of the iron caged bunker in the ground she had been picturing in her head on the way there. It looked to be two stories with faded dark wood on the outside. The door was a robin's egg blue. There had to be a view from the backside of the house, she assumed, with a large wrap around porch that just screamed to be used. It reminded her immediately of a perfect cabin hideaway in the woods, something she had imagined in the orphanage as an escape before she knew better than to hope.

As they neared the steps, a gun materialized out from the back waistband of May's pant.

"Oh goodness." Jemma cringed a little bit at the sight of the metal and Skye cut in front of her before she could say anything else.

"If your mom lives here, why do we need the gun?"

"Just in case someone else got here first," May replied, not looking at the girl as they walked up the rest of the steps. May's free hand moved to the paneling in the door near the door and it slid back with an electronic hiss, revealing a touch screen device. The characters were Chinese and foreign.

"What the hell."

"It looks like a mobile security system wired through to the doors and windows," Fitz answered, moving to the other side of Coulson. His eyes narrowed on the barrel of May's gun warily.

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that—" he began as May's fingers moved silently across the Chinese character buttons typing in a password before a loud beeping cut her off. A wave of agitation crossed the pilot's face.

"We could just kn…"

The front door slid open with a loud crack. May's gun snapped up and the older Chinese woman who stood in the doorway didn't flinch.

"Bǎ nàgè dōngxī líkāi, Qiaolian." 'Put that thing away, Qiaolian'.

May's hand dropped with the command from the older woman and she let out an agitated sigh. "Māmā, nǐ shénme shíhòu dédào yīgè bǎozhàng tǐxì?" 'Mom, when did you get a security system?'

The older May opened the door and allowed Skye and the rest of the group caught sight of more than just her head for the first time. She was a tiny woman, even shorter than May but she had an air about her that seemed to make her bigger, more commanding.

Her hair was dark black and short, not falling all the way to her shoulders. Her eyes were sharp and brown, moving across the visitors faces with precision.

"Nǐ yǒngyuǎn bù kěnéng tài xiǎoxīn, zhèxiē tiān. Rúguǒ nín lái tànwàng wǒ duō, shìqíng huì rèndé nǐ," she continued. 'You can never be too careful these days. If you came to visit me more, the thing would recognize you.'

The woman ushered them into the entry way where they banished their shoes on the dark hardwood floors.

"Phillip."

Skye had never heard anyone call Coulson anything other than "sir" or "Coulson" so "Phillip" sounded hilarious. If before she hadn't been sure if her boss was nervous, she was sure now. He folded his hands behind him to stop them from fidgeting.

"Secretary May."

She tilted her head a little to the left like she was dissecting him in her mind before speaking again. "At least she isn't shot this time," Lian grumbled as Coulson passed.

"Nà shì yīcì, māmā," May called over her shoulder and she could almost hear the eye roll in her voice. 'That was once, Mom.'

"Twice."

Her English had a strong Chinese accent and Skye wondered if May ever had an accent of any kind. She had heard her speak in at least three different languages, but it hadn't crossed her time that she wasn't American. With FitzSimmons, they sounded like where they were from.

"No, she's right, the first time it was a stab wound," Coulson chimed in and the look that Lian gave him was identical to the one May usually had. Skye couldn't keep the smile off her face as Coulson bit his lip.

May and her mother seemed to have their own side conversation going and the only one who seemed to follow any part of it was A.C. as the two women showed everyone their rooms. The inside of the house was as warm as the outside. Different eclectic artwork lines the walls representing a variety of cultures; some she recognized—Chinese, Russian, African, and others she couldn't place.

She and Simmons were sharing a room. The walls were a pleasant shade of lavender and had double beds with a large window facing the southern end of the property. The house was a warm; it wasn't something she could define in the décor or the furniture, but the atmosphere of the house made her feel safer.

She fell asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow.


Phil found his way clumsily into the kitchen, sleep evident in his steps. His hand almost knocked over the stack of coffee cup next to the machine. The kitchen was large and open aired. The cabinets were cherry and the soft white marble countertops reflected the light coming in the large bay windows.

Outside on the deck, Melinda was pacing. Coulson smiled gently as he watched her pace swiftly back and forth, her hand pressed up to the side of her face, phone angled just slightly. "She's been like that all day."

Coulson jerked forward to see Lian May standing in the doorway, watching him watching Melinda. He brought up the cup to his lips, giving him a chance to wake up, before answering.

"Has she—"

"Slept?" Lian finished for him. "Not yet. I got her to sit down a few hours ago, but she's been running around since the rest of your ducklings fell asleep."

Phil sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Melinda never did know how to rest. The clock on the edge of the oven read out a digital 5:48 P.M. The sun was beginning to toast from blue to red and orange over the porch.

"I am curious, however, what you said to my daughter that made her reenter the field." The older May's eyes were hard and inquiring; a mix he wasn't used to seeing on her.

"I'm sorry?"

"What you told her? To make her go back into field work."

"I don't know. When I approached her she seemed rather reigned to the idea."

His tongue felt funny as he replayed the scene in his mind, going over their conversation in detail, but it seemed Lian was thinking the same thing he was realizing.

"It didn't strike you as odd that she just agree to enter—a place she swore never to return to?"

Coulson swallowed and his eyes found May pacing outside. Something knotted uncomfortably in his stomach. He remembered after Bahrain when Melinda disappeared, only to have her reappear months later, refusing to go back into the field. No amount of his pleading, Fury's yelling, or Natasha's nudges had been enough to convince her.

Melinda turned, as if feeling his eyes, and held his gaze for a moment before turning to continue her pacing across the porch. Coulson let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding and looked back at Lian.

"I don't know…I—" he revealed, he opened his mouth to continue only to be cut off by Skye entering the kitchen.

"Morning," she greeted them all with a nervous smile. Her gaze lingered on Lian for a moment before moving back to Coulson.

"Uh, evening actually," Coulson said with a nod to the clock.

"Right," she said smoothly, "we're becoming nocturnal now." Her eyes shone a little brighter than they had the previous day and Phil felt his heart lift slightly.

"Only while we're on vacation, girl."

The group looked up as Tripp entered the kitchen, seeming to put Skye into a little more ease with May's mother who slipped away into the back room quietly with only Phil noticing. The coffee disappeared from the rest from the pot as cups were passed around.

"I checked on Fitz. He's still out of it."

The hint of hesitancy in Tripp's voice told him the Specialist wasn't sure of his position in this little rag tag team and if his concern would be well received. It was.

"Yeah, Simmons was still asleep when I left, too."

The door to the porch slid open quietly and May slipped back inside. She looked tired; he could tell that simply by her posture. Her eyes scanned the room before walking forward and she set the burner phone down on the counter next to the open and running laptop. He had noticed it when he walked in, but the fast scrolling Chinese characters meant nothing to him.

"News?" he asked gently and Melinda sighed.

"That was Blake. They recovered Victoria's body. Two shots, one to the chest, a second to the head, both close range. The others were executed, single tap to the chest, all five of them. I signed to let Isabel take her body."

Coulson felt the bile at the back of his throat rise. He nodded. In these situations, Melinda always thought about everything.

"Any word on the Bus' whereabouts?"

"None. I have feelers out, but with all the sudden ripples it could be a few days before any assets feel comfortable enough to move on any intel. Between the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s high level agents being taken into custody by Talbot or flipping with HYDRA, were at a serious disadvantage."

May's eyes were shadowed.

Their years as partners was the only thing that allowed him to see the sadness washing over her features. The shift in her posture, the twitch of her fingers at her side, the deflection in her eyes.

"I sent Blake in Stark's direction. I'm sure he could use another good agent," Melinda continued, moving away from the computer towards the coffee pot and tea set sitting on the countertop. The routine of her movements were soothing as Phil watched her. His own cup was lukewarm.

"She and Blake were my Supervising Officers while I was in the Academy." Tripp's voice was dipped in sorrow.

"I thought Garrett was your SO?" Skye asked suddenly after the silence was too much.

"Nah, I was just working under Garrett for the last few years. He was the head of a unit running Specialists. Blake was a high ranking tactical operative before some freak op in the desert had him injured."

Coulson's eyes flickered up to May sharply. Her hand paused briefly on the teapot handle before continuing to smoothly add the tea leaves.

"He almost a leg, though apparently they all almost didn't make it out. He was never one to talk about it, anyways, after that he moved to non-combative operations. That's how he ended up as my SO. He's a good man, solid agent."

"Well, I was kind of hoping Ward and all his little friends went down in a plane crash or something by now," Skye said, taking a large sip of coffee as a soft silence fell upon the four agents.

"I was twenty four my first time."

Skye choked dramatically on the coffee in her mouth as her cheeks flamed red and she whirled to face him.

"Whaaa—what the hell?"

Tripp's eyes widened comically as he looked from Coulson to May and back to Skye. "You guys don't play the game here? Come on, is it just an Ops thing?"

Coulson chuckled loudly and May smirked, turning to lean against the counter. "He's talking about his first hit," he clarified.

The hacker's eyebrows shot up. "So what, this is like a contest or something? See which of you has the best stories?"

"Not exactly," Coulson said, "it started as a way to piss off a therapist apparently. This was back at the genesis of S.H.I.E.L.D. mind you, Peggy Carter's time, and everyone in the Operations Academy went around the room and shared the first time they had crossed someone off. Kind of like a bonding activity, and then they went into their psych evals and switched stories with another agent."

He neglected to mention that every time they mentioned their hits, their murders, it became a little more bearable, a little more normal, a little easier to breathe.

Skye's face lit up with a smirk. "I'm sure that went over well."

Coulson smirked, "none of the stories matched up with the files, making the shrink's job very hard."

Skye turned to face the dark skinned agent. "All right, let's hear GI Joe."

Tripplet cleared his throat dramatically and Coulson smiled "My first year on the job. Twenty four. I was with a major case unit at the time. One of two Specialists and we were tracking down a serial case. Twelve victims in three weeks…by the time we caught the guy he was running. The man was an ex-marine, Special Forces. My fellow Specialist and I engaged on the side of a marina, near his chop shop. I remember it being like in one of those pin ball machines, every time we swung at him, he would keep popping back up and take down piece of us with him. Near the edge of the water, I swung a punch and he went down. Hit his head on the side of some rocks…he didn't get back up."

"That's it?"

Skye was clearly unimpressed.

"I didn't claim to be an assassin, just a very dashing spy who knows how to have a good time," he said with a pout. Skye laughed and the sound lit up the kitchen. She ran a hand through her messy hair.

"Well I've never crossed off anyone." Her hands air quoted dramatically, "but the first time I was undercover I had to disarm Ian Quinn after I hacked my way into one of his parties."

"Ian Quinn, the scientist?"

An ugly look passed over Skye's eyes at his name, but it was gone as soon as it came. "That's the one. Anyways, I followed the steps that I had been taught that morning and managed to get the gun. I stood there, pointing at him, but I knew I couldn't pull the trigger. My hand was shaking even holding the thing."

"So what did you do?"

"I jumped out the window into a pool instead."

Tripp laughed loudly, "And Quinn didn't try to follow you?"

Skye's arms turned to curl around her waist loosely and her smile fell short. "He did, but…uh Ward…he um, he took care of them."

A silence fell over the group at the name of their former team mate. Coulson's eyes traced Skye's sudden cold withdrawal from the conversation and he glanced between them, trying to figure out how to fix it.

"I was eleven," May's voice was smooth and Skye's eyes perked up almost immediately. "Turkish mercenary. I pushed him through a window."

Phil's chest swelled with affection for his partner as Skye turned towards May with wide, interested eyes; the previous moment forgotten. "I'm going to go ahead and ask the obvious question that everyone's thinking at the moment," Skye began, "why were you being attacked by a Turkish mercenary at eleven years old?"

May leaned back calmly against "My mother had flown out to London for the afternoon. We were living in the Ukraine as the time. They had been the back up on a case she had been working. They came looking for her and found me."

"Made quite a mess too." The group turned to see Lian appear from around the corner with a folded piece of paper. "Never did quite get the stain out of the carpet."

Skye seemed mildly horrified at that. Coulson spoke as Lian handed the paper off to May. "I was twenty three. Just your basic fire fight on my second mission after I graduated from the Academy. A cartel enforcer. Two taps right to the chest," he revealed with a sigh.

"How old were you when you were accepted?" Trip's curiosity questioned.

"Twenty, right out of high school. I traveled a year right after my graduation and then was recruit when I returned back home before I went to college."

He watched May's eyes scan the paper swiftly before refolding it and nodding sharply to her mother. Their soft conversation was soothing and lilting, but foreign enough to make him almost miss Tripp's next comment.

"That has to be some kind of record, sir."

"Is that young?" Skye's lack of S.H.I.E.L.D. background was showing as Tripp enthusiastically nodded.

"Very young. Most of the recruits are twenty three to twenty five these days. I was considered young at twenty three my year."

"I was young, Maria Hill was nineteen when Fury snatched her and," Coulson turned to smile widely at May, "this was one was recruited at seventeen."

"You're joking."

Phil shook his head with an amused smile as Tripp gaped at May. The Chinese woman refused to make eye contact with any of them and glared fiercely towards Coulson. "Nope, stole her right out the nose of the C.I.A."

"You were recruited at seventeen for the C.I.A.?" Skye's tone was skeptical.

"The Agency recruits a number of people with specialized covert talents. Just like Mossad has Kidon units or MI6 has black operations, even S.H.I.E.L.D. has shadow agents. Age isn't a prerequisite for value," May defended calmly, taking a sip of tea from the white porcelain tea cup.

"Why the change of heart?" Trip asked, cradling his coffee cup and watching May intently.

His eyes were slightly downcast and his tone was a little more polite, less casual. Coulson couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. He may be Tripplett's boss, but Melinda was a legend and clearly the Specialist knew just who she was and what she had done.

May glanced once at her mother and her eyes lingered on Phil before replying.

"The Director made me an offer I couldn't refuse."