June

Melinda peeled her eyes open, and let herself gradually adjust to the fact she was now conscious. Without moving, she could feel Phil wrapped around her back, his knees behind her own and his chest leaning against her back, arms round her waist.

When she'd first met him, she wouldn't have pegged him as a guy who liked to cuddle in his sleep, but she had definitely been proven wrong on that count.

She simply lay in the peace of the room, feeling his breath against her neck and the strange comfort that brought her each morning.

Just over six months ago, she'd been sleeping alone, awakening to do tai-chi before leaving hurriedly, working all day and returning to the flat on her own, only to repeat her routine the next. She'd never imagined her life could have changed so much, in such a short space of time.

And she'd never been so grateful.

Rolling over as carefully as she could, she found herself face to face with Phil. His eyes were closed, and the rhythm of his breathing told her he was definitely still sleeping. She smiled, lightly tracing his jawline with her fingertips, before whispering her new favourite phrase to him.

"I love you, Phil," she smiled, before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and proceeding to set about getting up.

She had work in a few hours time; right now, there was no rush to do anything, but she was awake and soon Lola would be up, and in the peace of the house, tai-chi was calling to her.

Melinda rose from the bed slowly, careful not to disturb Phil; she wriggled out from where his arms were wrapped around her, and could have sworn he pouted slightly when she climbed from the bed. But he was still asleep - or very good at pretending to be - so she carried on regardless.

Wandering to the middle of the room, she stood facing the window, watching as the morning light streamed through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the space of carpet she was standing upon with a gentle glow.

Melinda breathed in deeply, before exhaling slowly and carefully, measuring her timings and holding her breath for a few seconds before each set was complete.

It was a routine she knew like clockwork, automatically running through the motions with grace each day, without even consciously thinking about what came next or how to do something differently. It was part of her life, and something she couldn't imagine not doing.

After just over ten minutes, she felt the sensation of being watched, and glancing over to the bed, her suspicions were confirmed when she found herself under the sleepy gaze of Phil's blue eyes.

"Hey," she murmured softly, not breaking posture and continuing to stretch her arms around her back. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long."

Phil yawned, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, before brushing it back through his hair and smiling gently at her.

"You look so graceful when you do this, you know?"

It had quickly become apparent early on in their relationship, that Phil liked watching her practice each morning. He claimed it relaxed him, seeing her so calm, but she had a sneaking feeling it was more to do with the way she would often bend over…

"I keep saying you should try it," she replied instead, coming out of one move, and turning to face him properly. "It'll do you good too," she teased, holding a hand out to convince him to join her, "you need the exercise."

He raised an eyebrow at her and gave a slight smirk. "I think we get enough exercise, don't you?"

The corners of her lips rose upwards as she processed her words, before dropping her hand back down and continuing her routine like there had been no interruption.

"Fine, stay pudgy."

It only took a few seconds more, just like she thought, before she heard the mattress creaking as he climbed out of bed to join her, his bare feet padding across the carpet until he was right behind her.

She hid her smile well.

"Go on," he said resignedly, taking a deep breath and stretching his arms upwards. "What's step one?"

"Breathing. In and out," she informed him, brushing her arms across her body in one fluid motion, and sweeping them back out in front of her. She could hear him trying, to his credit, and wondered if one day he would actually be able to stay focused for more than five minutes; that had been his record.

Her thoughts about his lack of concentration were confirmed, when she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind, and he began placing soft kisses down the exposed skin of her neck.

"Phil," she murmured, dropping her form and sighing contentedly.

He mumbled something incoherent against her neck, letting his fingers brush against her hips, and Melinda decided that maybe she'd done enough tai-chi for one day.

After all, he was very distracting.

Following the incident the previous month, Phil was determined to ensure Lola and Melinda were happy being with each other, despite how they both kept telling him things were fine.

As Lola had had so much fun with both he and Melinda on the day to the science museum they went on, back in February, Phil decided another trip out was in order.

The settled eventually on plans to take her to an aquarium, several miles out of town, and Lola spent the entire week before their visit talking about nothing other than what she hoped they would see at the centre, her theories ranging from the more likely ones of jellyfish and crabs, right down to the most absurd, which resulted in Phil having to gently explain that mermaids weren't real.

When Lola had spent the afternoon upset, Melinda asked why, and ended up telling her that actually, there was a lot of the sea that had never been searched, so mermaids might exist, they just hadn't been found before. She wasn't sure what Phil would make of her slightly contradictory information, but it seemed to make Lola smile again, so all was good.

On the day they went, she spent the journey there talking about all the different sea creatures she had learned about on a tv show her Grandma Anne had shown her, and Phil and Melinda sat in the front, listening to her getting more and more excited the closer they got.

Lola was practically climbing out of her booster-seat by the time Phil pulled into the car park, and no sooner had Melinda opened the rear car-door had Lola unclipped her belt and bounced out, grinning wildly as she watched Melinda desperately trying to open an umbrella to stop them both getting wet.

The rain didn't seem to faze her one bit.

Phil took Lola's hand as they queued to pay their entrance fee, and she continuously looked around at the welcome hall, the walls painted ocean blue and covered in images of sharks, seahorses and turtles.

There was a sound effect of waves crashing against the shore being played through hidden speakers all around them, and as Phil handed over the money to buy their tickets, Lola whispered to Melinda that she wondered if they would see mermaids anyway, despite what her dad had told her.

They wandered slowly through each section of the centre, stopping at the show-and-tell discussion as a team member demonstrated the differences between different types of starfish. Some were large, yellow with what looked like spikes upon their backs, whilst others were bright blue, with long, flexible legs that clambered over rocks and swept away sand in their path.

The assistant asked for volunteers, to see if any of the children would like to hold one of the starfish, but Lola shied away, hiding behind Phil's legs and preferring to watch another child helping out.

As they headed to the tropical zone, Lola pressed her nose up against the glass of a marine tank filled with clownfish, exclaiming excitedly "There's Nemo!" at each individual fish in the tank, as they hid from sight in anemones, and chased circles around the rocks that made up their home.

The coral that made up the reef was incredible, a rainbow of colour through the water, and Melinda appreciated how relaxing it was, watching fish travel slowly around their habitat.

She wondered about maybe looking into getting a tank for herself; watching fish whilst practising tai-chi could be the most relaxing experience ever.

All three of them gasped as they entered a darkened room, and found that one wall consisted solely of glass, reaching over five metres in height, and through it was an enormous enclosure, where they could watch sharks swim by slowly, perusing their environment.

At feeding time, a scuba diver entered the tank, and proceeded to empty a bucket of raw fish into the water, and all the guests stood in awe as the sharks circled their meal, before consuming it faster than imagined. Phil was slightly worried it would freak Lola out, but one look at her face told him otherwise – she was awestruck, mesmerised by the giant creatures with rows of teeth and spiked fins.

There was an automatic walkway, that allowed guests to travel through the middle of the tank, and all manner of creatures swam past the glass as they moved. Manta-rays rested on the glass above their heads, their gills and faces visible to all who passed below. They almost looked like they were smiling, and as one swam away, the edges of its fins flapping, Lola insisted it had waved to them.

Crabs scuttled across the tank bed, their maroon coloured claws snapping at one another, and stealing leftover chunks of fish from one-another when the sharks circling above had decided they were full.

Phil and Melinda followed Lola around slowly, giving her the complete freedom she wanted and needed to explore the centre.

They found themselves back in the "shark room" – as she so dubbed it – three times, and Lola was disappointed when she realised they wouldn't be getting fed again for another day. Her disappointment didn't last long however, as on their third trip into the moving tunnel, two sharks swam right overhead, close enough that she could see the black of their eyes, and she ran along the travelator, following their every move.

Phil ensured they visited every room at least twice, determined that she hadn't missed anything that he would later regret not showing her, but once he was certain they were done, they left.

She fell asleep in the back of the car, clutching tightly onto the stuffed toy shark that Melinda had bought for her in the gift-shop – they must have spent almost an hour in there alone, debating between the shark and a model of a crab, holding gold coins in its claws – before Phil pointed out the crab was more of an ornament than a toy.

Melinda watched Lola in the rear-view mirror as they drove, wondering at how peaceful she could sleep despite the fact they were speeding down the road; the shark's teeth were made of an iridescent fabric that glittered under the streetlights as they passed by.

Halfway through June, Phil and Melinda had the conversation she knew had been coming for some time. In fairness, she had known since they had first got together, but recently it had been looming, and she hadn't wanted to be the one who brought it up.

It was a Tuesday evening, and they were in his kitchen; Phil had put Lola to bed an hour before, and the he and Melinda had just finished their dinner.

Spaghetti bolognaise, with homemade red-wine sauce. Phil really was a great cook.

She had known something was coming all evening, because he'd been quieter than usual, and whilst they had been eating, Melinda had watched him twirling pasta around on his fork, staring at the strands as though they were the most interesting thing in the room.

When they'd cleared the pots, he had turned to face her, leaning against the worksurface, and sighing, meeting her gaze with silent pleadings to understand.

"In two weeks," Phil began, not knowing how Melinda would react to what he was saying. "It'll be five years since Audrey and her parent were killed."

She swallowed, her thoughts about what he wanted to say confirmed with only a few simple words.

"Each year I take Lola down to Portland to visit the grave." He ran his hand through his hand, and sighed, becoming lost in memories Melinda could only imagine. "I let her lay flowers, and we'll talk to the headstone, you know?"

He glanced up, and Melinda nodded gently in encouragement for him to continue.

"She knows that's where her mother is."

"I know," Melinda replied quietly, watching him from where she was perched on the side of the table. "Lola told me."

Phil frowned at her words. "When?"

"A few weeks back."

She didn't add any more; Melinda wasn't going to tell him that Lola had specifically said - no, screamed - that she wasn't invited; it was in the past, and they were over it.

"Oh." He seemed to realise when the conversation must have taken place however, and he fixed her with a sad stare, before continuing. "Would you find it weird if I still took her?"

She honestly didn't know. Would going to see his dead wife's grave be something she found strange? Melinda wasn't sure.

Phil seemed to be reading her mind however.

"You… if you wanted, you could come with us, but -"

"Phil, its okay." Melinda smiled softly, stopping him halfway through his sentence. "Go with her. Just the two of you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

She wouldn't go with them, even though he asked; it was their past, and technically nothing to do with her. Lola deserved to know about her family, and she would not get in the way of that happening. But there was still that tiny part of her - and she hated herself for it - that felt weird about him technically visiting his ex-wife.

Melinda had only been to Bobbi's place once, and that had been when she and Lance had split up for the third time and she insisted the girls come round to spend the night getting drunk and making sure she didn't call him by mistake.

But now she was sat in her friends living room, absently stroking the scruffy tabby cat that had clambered up onto the sofa next to her, and proceeded to sit half in her lap, and she wondered why on earth they didn't chill here more often.

It was so much more spacious that her and Natasha's flat, and Maria and Steve lived together permanently, so going round there often felt like intruding. But Bobbi's place was… lovely. Working as a cop meant she wasn't home much, and when she was, Lance was often round as well, but even so, it was still tidy and homely and inviting.

"So, the new Mrs. Rogers is currently sunning herself on a beach in the Bahamas?" Lance asked, walking into the room and throwing himself down on the sofa next to Bobbi. She simply rolled her eyes and turned to look at him.

"Somebody sounds jealous."

"Not at all sweetheart."

"Bullshit" Bobbi and Natasha chimed simultaneously, turning to grin at each other as they did so.

Lance pouted, before looking at Melinda for support.

"You know I don't like you, right?" she interrupted, before he even had the chance to ask her to back him up. She was trying hard to keep a serious face whilst they teased him, and the puppy-dog eyes he was now proceeding to give her were not helping. In fairness, she had nothing against him other than the fact he caused her friend so much heartbreak over the years; but then again, Bobbi was equally guilty in that area.

"Fine" he sighed, holding both hands up in surrender. "I'm jealous, but come on Bob, you know you wanna be there too!"

"On someone else's honeymoon?" she raised an eyebrow before shaking her head. "No thanks."

"I mean somewhere hot, and sunny, and -"

"Somewhere your pasty English skin can just burn to a crisp?" she asked, teasing again, and nudging his legs with her own.

"Exactly" he grinned, resting his hand against her knee. "See, I knew you'd see things my way."

Melinda watched them interacting bemusedly. She still wasn't sure how they could go from this, loving banter and teasing, to hating each other in just a matter of weeks, but the two had been repeating the same routine for years now.

It was always better when they were like this though. Everyone could see how right they were for one another despite their issues.

"Right," Lance announced, checking his phone once more before climbing off the sofa, stretching and shrugging his jacket back on. "I'm going to watch the match, I'll see you later, 'kay?"

Bobbi smiled and nodded, before Lance leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips.

"Have fun ladies."

He grinned at Melinda and Natasha, and left the room.

As soon as the front door closed behind him, Bobbi turned to the girls.

"Right, going back to Maria…" Bobbi took a sip of her drink, before placing the glass onto the coffee table in front of her. "Has anybody else noticed she's been acting a little weird lately?"

Melinda knew exactly what she meant; she had been watching Maria for a couple of weeks now, and she had an inkling about what was going on. But it wasn't her news to share, so she simply nodded.

"Yeah," Natasha said, glancing between the two of them to see if they were all on the same page. "She wasn't drinking at her own wedding, not even champagne."

"Anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?"

They all looked at each other, and grinned.

If they were right in their theories, then everything was definitely going to change…

Half an hour later, and they decided to move on from discussing Maria, Bobbi began relaying to Natasha and Melinda the events of night shift she'd been on the previous week.

"So we're at the side of the road, watching this bar where there is usually trouble, and some guy comes up to the car, and starts going on about, and I quote, "Hail Hydra Bitches", whatever the hell that means -"

"- It's from a comic series" Melinda replied automatically, not really thinking about it until the words left her mouth. The other two looked at her curiously, and she glanced up to find both sets of eyes watching her expectantly.

"I didn't know you read comics Mel?" Natasha asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"I don't" she shrugged, the motion making the cat wake up and proceed to stretch out across her, scattering fur all over her leggings. "But Phil does, and he reads some to Lola, and…"

Bobbi was smiling, and Natasha was looking at her in a way that she knew something else was coming.

"What?" she asked cautiously, knowing that expression well.

"Do you read them together?"

"No -"

"How sweet is that?" Natasha interrupted, ignoring Melinda. "Reading comics together, you guys are too cute."

Melinda glared, and Natasha laughed. "Okay, okay, but one more thing?"

She sighed, knowing what they were doing.

"What?"

"If you don't read them with him, explain how you know who Hydra are."

She and Bobbi were grinning at her, and Melinda knew full well they were just trying to make her feel awkward. She rolled her eyes at them, before looking focusedly at the cat.

"Because… okay I've read a few over his shoulder -"

Natasha squealed.

"And," she continued, ignoring her this time, "it's an organisation that fights against SHIELD, in the Avengers comic books…."

Maybe Phil was rubbing off on her more than she had realised…

It could have been any normal Sunday in June, in another life. But it wasn't, and as the midday sun streamed through the car windscreen, and Phil pulled the block down to protect his eyes as he drove, he couldn't help but think about the "what if's?" of his life.

What if he'd never met Audrey?

What if she hadn't gone to her parents house that fateful weekend?

What if Lola hadn't survived the crash?

He shook his head particularly hard at that last thought, and looked up into his rearview mirror, catching sight of his daughter dozing in her seat in the back of the car. She was everything to him, and he couldn't let himself dwell on the terrifying idea that he very nearly lost her too.

She snuffled slightly in her sleep, and he smiled despite himself. They'd been driving for several hours, and she was always exhausted by car journeys, so it was no surprise really, but in a way he wished she was awake to keep him company.

Especially today.

Driving back to Portland for the first time since the move, was slightly surreal. It had only been about ten months since he and Lola had packed up and climbed into the car, off to start new lives across the state. But as he drove back down the familiar roads he used to take each day to work, it felt like a lot longer.

He woke Lola gently when they arrived at the cemetery, and carried her from the car, pausing only to grab the flowers out of the boot that they had picked out together the afternoon before. He had to take a deep breath before they entered the rows of graves, preparing himself for what was always an emotional experience.

After they visited the plot where Audreys parents rested, they headed a few feet further, until they reached the white marble stone that marked the place where Audrey lay.

Lola placed the bunch of roses she had chosen down onto the grass in front of the headstone, and patted the white marble with her tiny hand.

"These are for you, Mommy, Daddy said you liked roses." She bent closer, and Phil strained his ears to hear her next whispered words. "He said you liked music too, but I didn't know how to bring that."

She stood back up, and blew a kiss at the stone, before looking up at Phil, reaching out to hold his hand when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"You're crying."

"It's okay honey" he replied quietly, smiling softly and squeezing her hand, before bending down to her height, and resting his free hand against the cool marble stone.

It was a strange feeling, but for the first time in five years, standing next to the grave in the early summer sunshine, Phil knew that yes, it would all be okay.

He hoped Audrey would be proud of how he'd raised Lola.

And he also hoped, in the strangest of ways, that she would be happy he was with Melinda now, someone who cared not only for himself, but also for their daughter.

"He went to visit her grave today." Melinda placed her cup back onto the table, and avoided making eye contact with her mother.

She had decided on the impulsive trip to her house after talking to Bobbi and Natasha about Phil's weekend plans. After all, sometimes, and even though she never really admitted it, everybody needed their mother.

Melinda sat at the dining table with Tian, and stared out of the window, watching the peach blossom drifting from the tree in the back garden. She had spent many a summer as a child sitting under that tree, reading, chatting with friends. She'd had her first kiss underneath it, and had broken up with the same boy three weeks later there. It represented the constant reminder, that whilst she had changed, some things were still familiar.

"With the girl?" Tian's words brought her daughter back from her momentary lapse in concentration, and Melinda glanced back over to where her mother was sitting opposite her, frowning slightly.

"Yes. He wants Lola to know about her mother, and why she's not here."

Her mother nodded, once. "That is admirable."

Tian watched her daughter struggling to express herself, and she frowned.

"And you are envious he still goes?"

Melinda looked at her with wide eyes, shaking her head vehemently as she picked her cup up again; it was a nervous habit, fiddling with things when she couldn't decide what to say.

"No, Mama."

"You fear he still loves her?"

"No. He said, I could go too, if I wanted."

She shook her head again, only this time, it was with a little less enthusiasm than before.

Tian worked out Melinda's feelings from the simple change in head shake.

"I see. You are here because you feel uncomfortable being with them today; like you are intruding in their lives."

And once more, her mother had read her mind.

"They were a family," she shrugged, remembering the distant look on Phil's face when he had told her what they were doing at the weekend.

"And now you are a family" Tian said simply, her soft tones calming the conversation without physical attempt.

"But, Audrey," Melinda replied, trying to formulate what she meant - she'd never been the best person with words. "She -"

"Qiao Lian," Tian interrupted, silencing her with a raise of her hand. "Dead or alive, she is his daughter's mother."

"I know that, Mama."

"Then no matter what, she will always be a part of Phillip's life."

Melinda looked up at her mother, to find her watching her carefully. But the exasperated expression she had expected to be on her face - which she had been the recipient of many times over her life - had actually been replaced by a softer, more kind one, and Tian hesitantly reached out to touch the top of her daughter's hand.

"I know you like him a lot, Qiao Lian, I can tell."

Melinda felt her cheeks blush slightly, but knew her mother needed the truth.

"I love him, Mama," she murmured quietly, looking back down to the table with a soft sigh.

Tian listened to her daughter's confession with a simple nod. "I am aware of that… as soon as I saw you with him in April, I knew."

Melinda wondered briefly what the actual expression on her face had been that had showed her mother the honesty of her heart, but brushed the concern aside almost immediately.

"But," her mother continued, the sound of the ticking clock in the hallway the only background to her words. "You must understand, no matter what he feels about you, and what the girl feels about you, this Audrey, will always be a part of their lives."

She knew her mother was right. She always was.

"You won't ever replace the girl's mother," Tian murmured quietly.

"I'm not trying to." Melinda knew that much for sure. She wasn't trying to be Lola's mother; she wouldn't have a clue where to begin anyway - the fall out a few weeks before had only proved that to herself.

"Good." She nodded, pleased that her daughter did not have any wild ideas about the family she had found. "You can be something else to her though: a role model, supportive, even," she smiled softly, "just a friend."

Melinda nodded with a small smile, and Tian reciprocated the gesture, before removing her hand and rising from her seat, leaving her daughter alone with her thoughts as she walked to the kitchen.

"Thank you Mama," Melinda whispered quietly, the sound of her words getting absorbed by the silence of the house. She wasn't sure when she had turned to her mother for relationship advice, but her mother's simple words had calmed her more than anything Natasha or Bobbi had told her the previous week.

Her mother still heard her though, and Tian nodded to herself whilst she set about preparing a large pot of chamomile tea for the two of them to share, picking bone-china teacups from the cupboard and finding the matching saucers to go with them.

Her daughter had never been the easiest person to communicate with over the years; Melinda's inability to express her thoughts through words having come up many a time during their discussions. But then again, Tian realised with a wry smile, as she poured the hot water into the pot, the steam brushing past her and warming her face, she knew exactly who Melinda got it from.

Thank you so much to everyone for your wonderful reviews so far! Please let me know your thoughts if you get the chance!