August

It was the summer holidays still, and like she usually was on a Thursday, Lola was at her aqua-class.

She was close to taking another one of her badges, and Phil was so proud of the progress she had made over the past ten months. He was glad he'd signed her up for the classes; being able to swim was something he thought all kids should learn at a young age.

Phil had spent the morning taking her shopping for a brand new set of clothing she could wear to school in September; his little girl was so grown up, beginning elementary school.

He couldn't believe where the years had gone, it felt like only a few months before and he'd been - badly - singing her to sleep as a newborn.

Instead of taking Melinda out for lunch however, like he so often did during these last few months, she was working, covering extra shifts so that the two of them would have more money for New York.

He'd told her it was fine, that he wanted to pay for things whilst they were there, but she had insisted - multiple times - that this was his birthday treat, and so she was paying. In fact, she had glared at him the third time he suggested it, and he hadn't brought it up again.

So, Melinda was working, and Lola was learning, but what Phil should have been doing, and what he was actually doing, were two very different things.

He should have brought his laptop with him and maybe sat in the café next door to get some marking or planning done for the upcoming semester.

What he was doing, was standing in a room full of similarly dressed gym-goers, about to take his first ever lesson of kick-boxing.

Melinda stood at the front and smirked at him. She'd told him, in the nicest way possible, that it was probably a bad idea, and that he should go for something a little less strenuous for his first class. But he'd wanted to see her in action, and he soon learned that people didn't just sit and absently observe one of her classes.

They took part and they worked.

She set the class about doing warm up exercises, which she too took part in, and after ten minutes, half the class already looked exhausted, yet Melinda looked like she'd only just arrived.

He grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes with a small smile, continuing her class.

There was something therapeutic about punching the bag in front of him, and Phil quickly understood why she enjoyed teaching the class so much. Each hit felt like a release of tension and stress, and by the end of the lesson, whilst he felt honestly exhausted, he felt lighter too.

He waited until the rest of the class had left, before wrapping his arms around her at the front of the room.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, linking her fingers through his and leaning back against him with a sigh.

"I did. I've not really seen this side of you before…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean I see you in charge pretty often," he began, before she elbowed him softly in the ribs, and he laughed. "Okay, okay, I just mean, like a teacher, showing everyone how to do it… it was kind of hot."

"You liked that?"

He didn't have to see her to know she would have a smug smile on her face at that time, so he simply lowered his lips towards her ear.

"I did."

"You like me being in control?"

"You know full well I do… hence each night you -"

She elbowed him again before he had the chance to finish.

On the following Saturday, Phil woke Lola early, before carrying her to the car in her pyjamas.

The three of them drove to Maria and Steve's house in the dawn quiet, Lola dropping back off at some point on the journey.

When she arrived at her aunt's, Maria took her inside and let her go back to bed, before wishing Phil and Melinda a good weekend.

Their flight left at eight-am, so they had just over an hour or so before needing to board.

After checking in, they simply strolled around the terminal, watching the growing number of people rubbing tired eyes. They sipped hot drinks from a café by their gate, and Melinda muttered an apology over the time of their flight.

She used to be a morning person, finding getting up at the crack of dawn just a normal everyday occurrence. But Phil slept in, and over the past few months she'd found her own sleep schedule gradually altering slightly, to the point that some mornings, she had no desire whatsoever to get out of bed.

It was strange.

When they boarded, it was on time - to their relief - and no sooner had they taken their seats and the safety demonstrations been carried out, they were off.

Phil tried desperately to wipe the smirk off his face when he saw her expression some time later; she seemed to be physically restraining herself from flying over the back of her seat and killing the child kicking it. It was only a toddler, and they soon stopped when they fell asleep - Phil kept glancing through the gap in the chairs - but he knew if he had taken Lola on a flight at that age, he would have stopped her right away if she had dared to kick the seats.

The moment they touched down in New York, Melinda was up however, out of her chair and desperate to get off the aircraft, muttering about how the only time she would like being on a plane, was if she got to fly it herself.

Phil couldn't help but think she would actually be a pretty good pilot, but he wasn't sure why.

The queue for security moved quickly, and once they reached baggage reclaim, Phil was pleased to see their case come through within twenty minutes of arrival. They had shared one, seeing as their trip was only for a few days, and neither of them was overly materialistic in their travels.

Although he had definitely noticed Melinda sneaking some hair-straighteners in after he'd already sealed their case up...

Phil had only been to New York once in his life. It had been in his early twenties, when he and his mother had come down with Maria, for her eighteenth birthday. They'd seen a show on Broadway, followed by a meal and a night in a five star hotel; Maria had adored every moment of it, and for a while, insisted she would one day be on the stage.

Driving to the hotel in the taxi now, Phil didn't see much that had changed. If somebody had told him several years ago that one day he would be returning, but this time with a beautiful woman on his arm, to see a superhero convention, he would probably have laughed them out of the door.

But here they were, and when they pulled up in front of their hotel, Phil helped Melinda out of the taxi with a boyish grin, taking her hand and bowing slightly as she stepped out; he said something along the lines of "after you, m'lady", and she shot him her trademark roll of the eyes that he loved so much.

They literally dumped their suitcase into the room, quickly freshening themselves up before leaving once more.

Phil had taken a glance around the suite whilst Melinda had been in the bathroom, and he had to admit he almost felt guilty they would be out all day. It was gorgeous, furnished in creams and oranges, with deep crimson cushions and dark mahogany furniture.

As soon as she was out, they left again, heading across the city to the exhibition, hoping to make the most of it. It was only around eleven in the morning, having flown early, so there wasn't really any rush.

When they arrived, Melinda handed the tickets over at reception, receiving the maps detailing the locations of each themed zone, and an information leaflet, both of which she put into her back pocket and ignored. They were just going to wander freely, and Phil took her hand as they walked out of the foyer.

They wandered through a set of double doors and into the light studio, where there was a lecturer leading a tour party comprised mainly of tourists, around the makeshift movie set in front of them. The leader called for everyone to stand still for a moment whilst the demonstration took place, and before they knew it the room had been plunged into darkness.

Seconds later, strobe lighting began to resonate across the walls and floor, violent flashes of white that caused dots in both of their eyes each time either of them blinked.

This was followed by soft, lazy colours tracing patterns along the floor, snaking around the guests before flickering away.

The various lighting types continued for a while longer, before the regular returned, and they were free to move to the next room.

There were demonstrations of sound effects, how everyday objects could be recorded and simply then used as a sound for something else; one example was the hissing of a giant reptile, created simply by rustling foiled crepe paper. Alone, it seemed silly, but when teamed with the CGI demonstration, it fitted in perfectly.

They stopped for lunch in the restaurant area for a while, sharing opinions and thoughts and listening to the general hubbub of noise around them before continuing to the next zone.

This was where Melinda had wanted to bring him.

Stepping into the exhibition centre, they entered the beginning of the superhero display.

Phil squeezed her hand as they walked in, and it was all she could do to not laugh out loud at his dorky expression of excitement at the room in front of them.

There was at first a comic book centre, with thousands of comics on display, from first print editions that were framed behind glass, price tags indicating costs of into six digits in many cases, to the newest editions of all the latest trends.

There was an array of colour and design, with artists demonstrating techniques to draw each strip by hand, showing the detail that went into colouring and filling.

There were also computer systems showing how other comics were designed using technology, and the differences between the hand-drawn and the photoshopped ones being displayed side by side.

The next room regarded the history of the "superhero" figure, giving examples from myth and legend of those society looked up to in roles of great power, and those believed to have gifts no other human possessed.

It tracked the rise of the superhero from niche market to mainstream entertainment, and a selection of academic articles were on display detailing the history behind some of the worlds best loved fictional stars.

Melinda wasn't overly bothered with reading them, but Phil did, so she happily wandered the room whilst he read, simply absorbing the atmosphere and feeling ridiculously happy that he was enjoying his birthday present so much.

The third room in the superhero exhibit was filled with costume design, and she had to roll her eyes as Phil practically squealed with excitement over the detail on some of them.

He particularly loved the Captain America outfits; they had been used in blockbuster movies that shot the soldier into the lives of a whole new generation of fans, but they replicated the designs from the original comic series to the tiniest of details.

He admired the shield and star-spangled banners, before reluctantly moving on to the other costumes, looking at capes and masks and other methods used to hide one's identity as a superhero.

Finally, the tour was at an end, but not before he grabbed Melinda by the hand and dragged her into the gift shop, where he continued to flail like a child.

After a ridiculous amount of deliberation, he bought Lola a new set of cookie-cutters, each shaped like a different comic-book star of the Avengers, before having to restrain himself from getting a full size replica Captain America costume.

Melinda refused to sway him either way, telling him it was his choice; in the end he resisted, but not before he'd tried it on and made her take photographs.

She was in love with a complete and utter dork.

She did insist he get something however, but his complete indecision between the intricately crafted figurine, and the signed print of an Avengers spread, left her rolling her eyes once more.

After all, following a trip like this, a souvenir was definitely needed.

When they returned to the hotel an hour or so later, Phil just kept repeating over and over how much he had loved the day.

It was all Melinda could do to keep the smile off her face.

"I don't even know how to repay you for this" he told her genuinely, for what was possibly the fifth or sixth time within ten minutes.

"Well…" she smirked mischievously, and he watched the glint in her eyes as she traced as fingertip down the front of his shirt. "We were supposed to go for dinner somewhere tonight, but we could stay here instead? Get room-service? And just, enjoy ourselves?"

"Now that," he murmured, before taking a step closer, leaving her pinned between the cool hotel wall and the heat of his body, "is an excellent idea."

"I do have them sometimes."

The next day they decided to do the typical tourist thing, and go and see the sights of the city.

Well, when in New York…

Their first stop was the Empire State building, as they wanted to beat the crowds that would no doubt ascend as the day wore on and the city got busier.

After handing over their money, they stood side-by-side in the lift as it made it's way towards the top, and before they knew it they were there, looking over the vast expanse of city below, buildings and skyscrapers sweeping into the distance in every direction.

Phil pulled his camera out, and insisted on photographing Melinda against the backdrop, but for once, she didn't object. She even asked the couple beside them if they would mind taking a photograph of the two of them together.

Later they visited the Rockerfeller Centre, browsing the shops and exploring the vast building for what felt like hours.

They saw the Chrysler building, and the Natural History Museum, before the two spent some time at Ground Zero, and paid their respects to all those who so tragically had lost their lives there.

They felt like they had been walking all day when they reached Central Park, and they wandered hand in hand along the pathways in the early evening, taking in the lush greenery of their surroundings, and mingling with the people around them.

There were office workers, enjoying their freedom with friends and colleagues having finished for the day; there were children, crouched down and sailing paper boats on the rippled surface of a large pond; there were families eating evening picnics on the grasses all over, their spreads laid out across checkered blankets with ease.

They stopped at a small hut, wooden with a thatched roof and a friendly attendee inside, and purchased ice-creams, covered in sweet raspberry syrup and topped with chocolate flakes.

Melinda made happy humming noises as they ate, and he hadn't been sure he could love her more until that moment.

She got a smudge of sauce on her lip at one point, and Phil could do no more than bend down to kiss it off, letting his touch linger a little longer than was probably necessary.

They watched the sun begin to set, sinking low over the silhouette of the city, and it was Melinda who curled herself against Phil, leaning her head against his shoulder and linking both hands with his, as they stood, observing the giant orb of fire in the sky gradually descend, bringing night to the city they were only resident in for another twelve hours.

"Thank you so much for doing this Mel" Phil murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. They had needed a weekend or so away with each other, a chance to be alone and recalibrate and just be Phil and Melinda, not teachers or a parent or a best friend listening to relationship woes.

Maria had told Phil, that a weekend away just the two of them would either make them, or break them as a couple, and though he'd never doubted that it would be the former, he still felt a small sense of relief that the last few days had been one hundred percent perfect.

"How do babies get here?"

Phil choked on his drink at his daughter's question, freezing his mug halfway towards when he'd been about to put it on the table, and Melinda hid her face behind the book she was now only pretending to read.

He'd not expected her to ask him something like that so young, but seeing as Maria was not only pregnant now, but also beginning to show slightly, and she saw her niece often, it was only natural for Lola to wonder how these things happened.

"How do they get here?" he asked, making sure she was definitely asking what he thought she was, whilst wracking his brains for a response that was suitable for a five year old.

"Yeah. Auntie Maria said the baby is in her tummy, but how?"

"It grows in there," he said helplessly, looking to Melinda for some kind of assistance; he'd known one day there would be conversations he would struggle to have with his daughter, and this was definitely one of them.

"But how did it get into her tummy?"

"Remember when your dad took you to Build-a-Bear for your birthday?" Melinda chipped in, and Phil wondered wildly where she was going with the memory.

"Yeah?" Lola replied, swinging her legs under her chair in alternate directions.

"Okay, well it's a bit like that. Two people decide they want to have a baby together, and –"

"Any two people?" she was halfway through her second cookie, watching the two of them as intently as a five year old could do, and Phil had a feeling she wasn't going to let the conversation go any time soon.

"Two people who love each other," he clarified, and she nodded in understanding.

"But," Melinda continued, watching with a hidden smirk as Phil continued to flail around what to say. "Unlike the shop, you can't choose if a baby is a boy or girl."

"It's a surprise?"

"Yep. And you remember watching your unicorn get filled with stuffing?"

Lola nodded.

"Okay, well instead of it growing in a machine, a baby grows in the mommy's tummy. And instead of stuffing, the baby gets bones and blood and a little heart and a brain too, just like you have."

"Whilst you wait for the baby to grow," Phil said, suddenly appreciating the hell out of the creative analogy Melinda had managed to come up with. "You can choose clothes for it –"

"Like dresses or hats?"

"Yes, exactly like them," he smiled. "And then, after nine months, the mommy goes back to the hospital, and a few hours later –"

"A few?" Melinda raised an eyebrow at him, and he backtracked with a grin.

"Okay, after a long time, all the waiting is over, and you have a baby to take home."

He was praying she wouldn't ask how the baby actually got out of the mother, because he was pretty sure that conversation would partially scar her for life at such a young age.

"And then you can choose a name?" she asked instead, thankfully skipping over the parts he'd been dreading.

"Yep."

"Cool!"

With that she nodded, grabbed another cookie, and wandered back to the living room to find her paint set.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief, and looked over at Melinda, who had picked her book back up as though nothing had happened.

"Thanks Mel, that was actually a really good way to explain it to her."

She shrugged, glancing up from her page with a smirk. "It was better than watching you flounder around."

"Hey, I just… I was thinking!"

"Excuses excuses," she grinned, putting her bookmark between the pages she was on, and closing the book, placing it back onto the table in front of her.

"Although," he said, watching her carefully. "You weren't with us that day, so how do you know the exact process of Build-A-Bear?"

She simply smiled, and walked out of the room.

Melinda stood in the middle of a field, and looked around her, wondering how in the hell she had let Natasha talk her into this.

Her and Phil were somehow on a double date with Clint and Natasha, and whilst at first that had seemed like a great idea - a day out and a bit of fun - when Clint had told them what the plan was, she had been a little less enthusiastic.

He had brought them all to an activity centre he often frequented, out in the countryside somewhere, and they were currently lined up in front of archery targets.

Despite it being August, it was cloudy, and the glares she kept shooting at the sky seemed to be the only thing keeping the rain at bay.

"Okay," Clint said happily, oblivious to Melinda's slight lack of enthusiasm. "Now if you turn slightly to the right, so your left side is facing the target, kind of at a right angle?"

Melinda turned grudgingly, before meeting Natasha's grin, and setting herself back into position to fire.

Clint was amazing - he was hitting the bullseye every single time, no matter what distance away they set the targets up. Melinda could have sworn he even hit one with looking. He said it was just practice and a bit of good fortune he'd been given the talent for it; she'd then had to question the irony of calling his dog Lucky. She just kept licking Melinda's leg and running around happily.

At least the labrador was having fun.

Natasha had clearly been to the centre with Clint multiple times, because she was actually pretty good. Phil had whistled when Nat's second arrow hit the inner ring, and Clint had beamed proudly at his little protege, before punching her lightly on the arm.

Phil too, was actually decent, because apparently this was something the two of them had done quite frequently back when they were in college together.

The two kept recalling tales of their youth, adventures of shooting arrows at anything except a target, including the time early on when someone bet Clint he couldn't hit an apple on the highest branch of a tree, and he ended up shooting it through the tree, missing the apple by millimetres, and smashing the window of the café in the park.

They had apparently stuck to actual target practice after that.

But Melinda just couldn't grasp it. She kept missing. Which Natasha found hilarious, naturally, and proceeded to ensure she had her friend's grumpy expression captured on camera permanently.

After an hour of flying arrows across the field, they called it quits, and Clint suggested they head over to the climbing wall and do some abseiling. Which Melinda had to admit, sounded a lot more fun.

Clint and Natasha walked back towards the centre together; Clint had one arm resting over Natasha's shoulders, and a bag of arrows slung over the other.

Lucky ran around like it were the most exciting day ever, barking and chasing the sticks that Clint kept throwing for her, before chewing them slightly and leaving them where she found them, and returning for another.

Mad dog.

From behind, Melinda and Phil watched Clint and Natasha with small smiles. Their little matchmaking session had been a success it appeared - just over three months after being introduced the two acted like they had known each other for years. Which was definitely a good thing, the ease of their relationship was so natural, it was hard to believe it had been under sixteen weeks that they had been seeing each other.

Phil linked his fingers through Melinda's as they walked back to the site, trailing a little behind the love-birds in front.

He could tell she was a little miffed about not being able to hit the target, but if he was honest, he'd found the fact she couldn't do it kind of adorable.

"Maybe it's just not your sport," he said casually, swinging their arms a little. "You know, you can kickbox, run, do yoga, tai-chi… maybe this just isn't your thing."

She simply "hmmm-ed" in response, and Phil had a feeling she'd be back here in a few weeks, trying to hit that target.

Melinda slowly drifted into consciousness, aware only of the warmth she was surrounded by, and the gentle sensation of fingers stroking down her spine.

Sunday mornings were made for this.

She sighed happily, curling up against Phil under the sheets, and snuggling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "I could wake up like this every day."

Phil kissed her hair, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. They lay in silence for a while, listening to the soft echo of the television from downstairs that signalled Lola being up and about. It was warm, and comfortable, and neither had any desire to move.

"Why don't we?"

"What do you mean?" Melinda asked sleepily, still only half conscious thanks to encasing warmth, and the familiar comfort she always took from him being so close.

"I mean… move in with us."

"What?"

That woke her up.

Melinda rolled over so she was lying on her front, resting her head against his chest and looking up at him intently with soft brown eyes.

"Mel, you practically live here anyway," he said quietly, looking down at her and judging her reaction. "You're here most days as it is… half your clothes are in my wardrobe, your shampoo is in the bathroom. Lola loves you being here…" He took a deep breath, seeing her lack of argument as a good sign. "I know it's only been what? Eight months?" he continued. "But it –"

"- It feels right," she finished, kissing his shoulder and smiling.

"It's not just me who thinks this, is it?"

Phil knew he was taking a big risk asking her something like this after a short period of time, but it just felt so right to him that he couldn't not. And he'd already spoken to Lola about the idea, and she had been very excited.

He'd had to make her promise not to tell Melinda anything; keeping secrets was a game she liked to play… she said it made her feel like a spy.

"No, it's not just you."

"So… will you think about it?"

She shook her head, and Phil frowned slightly in disappointment, wondering if he had misread her completely.

"I don't need to think about it," she murmured, tracing her fingertips across his upper arm. "I love you, Phil, and I'd love to live with you both."

His frown immediately disappeared, replaced by a beaming smile that she never wanted him to lose.

"Really?"

"Really."

As always, your wonderful comments and thoughts help me keep writing; I appreciate them so much, thank you!