A/N: More MayWard flirting.

Not Unlike Chess

Name: Dr. Monica Rappaccini

Alias(es): Scientist Supreme of AIM

Known Relatives: Thanasee Rappaccini (see file, classified at Level 5) [Daughter]; Lorcan Rappaccini [Son] (Grant scoffed. "Thanasee? Really?")

Affiliation: Advanced Idea Mechanics (AIM)

Base of Operations: Mobile; one of almost one hundred bases worldwide

Alignment: Bad (For some reason, Grant snickered at this.)

Identity: Classified at Level 4

Citizenship: American

Marital Status: Widowed

Occupation: Scientist; potential terrorist

Characteristics:

Gender: Female

Height: 5'7

Weight: 125

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Black

Within the cockpit, Grant flipped through the rest of the dossier, casually reading through what pieces of her biography were included. Apparently, she had quite a few romantic trysts with Bruce Banner years ago. Hm, that's interesting. Wonder if anything came of it. He made a mental note to contact Dr. Banner and ask him about her, should it actually come to that. "What do you think?"

Melinda had been sitting in silence for the last half hour, as she was wont to. It was one of the many reason why he decided that he enjoyed spending time with her. She didn't believe in excessive chatter for the sake of filling silence. Silence could be gold, as he learned over time. It gave him a forum to reflect in peace without being unnecessarily asked what he was thinking about, unless his facial expression actually warranted it. In that case, he enjoyed her even more because she always had a wise word to say… more like imply. He seemed to always draw his own conclusion without her ever saying anything. Weird.

Coulson said that he realized the same thing years ago. He also said that May was a lot more chatty in years past. Heh, a chatty Melinda. It almost seemed like an oxymoron. She was likely the quietest person he had ever met, and yet, she was the most talkative in her silence. He had no idea how she did it. However she did it, he really –

"…coconut chicken pie with Fitz's sloppy seconds."

He shook his head and gave her a strange look. "Wait, what?"

"You weren't listening to a word I was saying."

He had apparently been staring at her ever since he had asked her what she thought. It was turning into something of a bad habit. He couldn't blame himself (who would blame him/herself). She was quite a delight to look at. What, with her high cheekbones, her soft lips, her strong, but deep brown eyes. He could just stare at her for hours. Damn, he was doing it again. He tore his gaze from off of her and then cleared his throat. "Oh. Sorry."

"Anyway. I said I don't know. AIM could be up to anything, but whatever it is, it likely isn't good."

She was right about that. All these superterrorist organizations were all the same. Their goals and agendas may have been different, but at the core, they were all the same terrible, terrible people with self-centered attitudes. "I agree. Where in Ireland are we headed?"

"Not in. There's an underwater facility about two miles off the west coast."

He nodded. It was going to be another few hours and he was already struggling to think of something to talk about to pass the time. It wasn't like there was a plethora of appropriate topics to discuss en route to a mission. Key word being appropriate. He could have teased her about all of the amazing things she did with her hands and tongue last night, what he could remember, but that would hardly seem approp–

"About this morning," Melinda started after a few moments of silence. "Sorry if I led you on."

He could hear the smirk in her voice, even if one wasn't visibly showing. "Are you? Are you really sorry, you tease?"

She actually smirked and reached down to adjust something in there console. "Tease? I was just getting my sunglasses. Not my fault you read into it wrong."

He breathed out a chuckle. "Oh, yeah? Then how do you explain that whole swinging your hips?"

Her smirked increased an iota. "You were watching my hips?"

He totally was. He couldn't help because they were amazing. Amazing to look at, touch as they kiss, grip tightly while he was drilling– ahem. "Couldn't help it with the exaggerated movement you were doing, to lead me on, you seductress."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes. I'm a regular Natasha Romanoff," she replied, deadpan.

"Please, you know you wrote the book." He turned to face her, and smiled when he saw her fighting a grin. "Come on, just one kiss. I won't tell anyone." He was not begging. This was… bartering. What?

She pursed her deliciously gorgeous lips for a moment, then shook her head. "Nah, I don't think so."

His shoulders sunk in faux disappointment. "Am I so ugly Melinda, that you wouldn't even spare me one small, solitary kiss?" She didn't answer, but put on an awkward face and cleared her throat. He pretended to panic. "Hey, wait!"

"Relax; it was a joke. With those cheekbones, you could be a male model."

He smirked at the subtle compliment. Melinda really did have to do things in a roundabout way, didn't she? "I had to go undercover as an underwear model a few years ago. If you're good, maybe I'll show you the snaps I took."

Her mouth twitched involuntarily. "Nothing I haven't seen already."

"That didn't stop you from rubbing your thighs together." His smirk was the very epitome of smug as she whip her head toward him. "What? Thought I didn't notice?"

"Hm." She looked him up and down before turning back to the deep, blue skies.

Move, countermove.

Flirting with Melinda May was not unlike playing chess. Every move, every word said between the two of them was to establish the one after it. It was actually quite brilliant to watch. It went beyond to cliché double entendre that most people resorted to nowadays. It kept him on his toes.

He liked it. He liked it a lot.

He liked her a lot. Not that he'd ever admit it. Because a) Melinda May didn't do love, or romance. It was a miracle that she was willing to go this far with him in the first place. He didn't like to think about it too much. Anyway, b) they already had a good thing going. Sex with her was amazing, from what he could remember, and judging from the scratch marks on his back and chest, she was enjoying it, too. Bringing emotions and feelings and all that sappy crap into this was only going to ruin things. Besides, they were already breaking protocol; no need to break it even further.

And besides that, c) if they started dating, there would be no way they'd be able to hide it on such a enclosed space like the Bus. Sex was easy to hide when they confined it to hotel rooms, and once in the back of the SUV. Dating, when cooped up with a busybody like Skye, was next to impossible. She'd find out in hours and would never let him hear the end of it.

Not to mention Phil. He was surprised that arguably the best agent at SHIELD hadn't already found out. Or maybe he did and was just waiting for them to mess up so he could tear into them in a fit of jealous rage. Because Phil was still in love with Melinda, because they had been married earlier in life, but something came up that caused them to divorce. These were established facts (suppositions) that everyone on the Bus but Phil and Melinda knew and accepted. So, of course Phil would be jealous that Grant was dating his ex-wife. In which case, he was definitely keeping his mouth shut. Fate had allowed them this much reprieve; and he wasn't planning in tempting it any further.