Dear Inkdrops, finally I am back. :)
I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.
Chapter 4: Just the visitor
The next mornig, I woke up at 5, as usual, to do my Tai Chi routine. I usually don't even need an alarm, but nevertheless I always set one. And, a thing most people wouldn't expect, even if I wake up earlier, I only do get up when it rings. No need to spare my body some much needed physical rest. So when this annyoing average ringing sound chimed through the room, I rolled my eyes just to flip my blanket back and sit down on my bed. Back in the day, I had used different wake-up tones. Then I had used my favourite songs (yes, I do like music!) but never our workout or programme tunes. I would listen to them often enough in training. But after all that had happened, the less personal, pre-recorded sounds suited me better.
No need to say, I hadn't slept very well, it was firstly because of the strange, unknown environment and secondly because I knew that Phil was sleeping in the room next to me. Just as he had for such a long time.
Last night, I had mostly finished unpacking and then we had talked at his kitchen table. It had gone surprisingly well, all things considered, no arguing, no bitching, just us. As if nothing had changed. Maybe because we were pretending it was like that, even though we knew it was a lie. We hadn't dwelled on the past, we had discussed pressing topics - like training plans, timetables, scores and choreographies.
Yes, Phil was super organized, still it had only taken me about five minutes to figure out that he needed a second pair of hands, that he couldn't do this alone. Not anymore. The last years had taken a toll on him too, and some moments, when his carefully painted mask slipped, I could see how close he was to burning out.
Flashback - Summer 1992, Somewhere in Upstate N.Y.
I was the first one in the kitchen that morning, at least I hoped so. After the night before I had no desire to talk to my partner yet. By breaking my cup he had fucked up big time.
Food had to be stored somewhere, so I rummaged the cupboards and the fridge for cereals and some milk, while brewing my tea. I left the box with teabags there on one of the shelves with a big sign on it saying "Melinda May. Keep your hands off!" As nobody was there yet to critizise me, I hopped onto the kitchen counter with my bowl on my lap, happy to have this better point of view. My thoughts were already at today's training, Carol had told me that we would have a kind of pep-talk first. I hated too much talking. It was annoying. After the long drive yesterday I was itching to be on the ice rink again.
Suddenly I saw movement in the door.
"Oh hey, good morning!" I heard Phil's voice.
He sounded friendly, if not a bit unsure, as if he didn't know how to deal with me. Guess what, that happened to most people. It still does. Same with Fury and same with Maria. I didn't know her back in 1992 of course. I only gave him a court nod and didn't make any motion to move down from my seat. He didn't comment on it though, simply started making coffee. I probably scrunched my nose at the smell because he suddenly looked at me questionly.
"You don't like coffee?" he asked.
I only answered with very fake throwing up sounds. Grinning slightly, he shrugged his shoulders while made himself a peanutbutter-jelly-sandwich. My eyes widened.
"Fury lets you eat this?!" I exclaimed.
"Well, he doesn't always control what we have in the fridge so I think I am good," Phil answered, "also, you are eating cereals if I am not mistaken so don't bullshit me!"
He kind of had a point so I went on with my breakfast in icy silence. I was just cleaning my bowl when it sudddenly got loud and three young men came in, all still looking a bit ruffled
"Ah good morning Coulson! And here we have our new sweetheart!" one of the dark-haired dudes leered.
"Shut the fuck up Garrret!" Phil barked, which was kind of nice. Until I reminded myself that I needed no man to stand up for me.
On the other hand, the short exchanged had made one thing clear: Like in most scenarios, they used the last names here, contrary to Carol who called me "Melinda" since she had started training me when I was still quite young.
"I saw Fury earlier, he said meeting in 20" a slightly shy-looking man, Radcliffe if I remembered correctly, told us, so after I had gone back to my room to get ready, I met the others in a what looked suspiciously like a conference room or office.
Fury and Carol were sitting at the heads of the table with us skaters on the sides, Coulson and me next to each other facing the other three.
The first part was as expected - rules: What to eat. What not to eat. Where to go. Where not to go. What to do. What not to do. And all the time we could see on our trainers' faces that they knew we would break those rules. Big time. Then we got our schedules as we wouldn't only be on the ice rink. As usual, cardio, strengh and ballett training would also be part of our weekly routines. So far, nothing surprising.
"And now, Garrett, Radcliffe and Talbot, cardio, 3km and the training with the personal trainer. Coulson, May, you two on the ice rink in 15."
After I had finished with my morning-training, I went downstairs for breakfast. Phil wasn't up yet, but he had told me the night before just to help myself. As I am a nice person, I even made coffee for him. Contrary to all those years ago however, I sat down at the dining table to have my cereals. I checked any incoming messages on my phone, there were only two: One from my dad (and therefore probably from my ma who knows that I generally don't reply to her as quickly as to him) and one from Fury who basically thanked me without actually being nice or saying thank you. That is one of his specialities.
"Hmm coffee!" Phil suddenly said, making me jump a bit. I really should pay more attention to my surroundings.
He took a big sip from his now-filled mug with a horrible Grumpy Cat on it.
"The skaters should be doing their daily workout at the moment, running mainly. A bit of weight lifting too. I will head over to the rink in a minute and then meet them there. Are you still planing to sneak in, just watch at first, see what they are like in traaining?"
I nodded. "Yes, just as I said last night. I don't want them to feel judged. For now."
Truth be told, I was also bloody nervous as to how they would react to the prospect of me training them. As I always had been used to, Phil seemed to know what I thought without me having to voice it. He smiled.
"Don't you worry, they will feel honored. I am also pretty certain that Ward is harbouring an immense crush on you anyway."
I scrunched my nose. "Let's hope not! I remember your man-crush on Fury. That was something I don't want to witness again!"
Now it was his time to look scandalized. "Man-crush? Me? Never!"
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," I murmured while getting ready to rinse my dishes.
Up in my room, I was debating in what to wear. Ice rinks are cold after all, especially when you are not skating. In the end I chose black jeans and a black fleeze shirt. Down again, Phil was already getting ready to leave while I was still gathering some useful things.
"I trust you know how to get to the rink. Please lock the door behind you when you leave!" He called out, "oh and by the way - the only person I ever had a crush on was you!"
Then he rushed out of the room, leaving me standing there, totally confused. He had had a crush on me? At least he had just said so. But he was just messing with me. Yes, it must be that. Resolutely I nodded to myself before putting on shoes. I grabbed my backpack and car keys and, after carefully locking the house, headed to my car. Getting to the rink was easy, I had looked up and memorised the way in advance. Only Phil's car was parked in front of it so I left mine there too. He hadn't told me where to enter so I tried the main door which, unsurprisingly, was unlocked.
The entrance hall was small, nothing like the boisterous one where we had trained and very painfully obvious not decorated with as many trophies. Sure, there were some, but most of the golden ones were only from small regional competitions. But there were also silver and bronze from big ones, Grand Prix, World Cup and now Olympics. Phil had started something good here, I could see that. More than he saw it himself, probably. Suddenly I stopped in front of a framed black and white photography of a skater in mid-jump. It was a training shot, obviously, as she was not wearing a costume, but pants and a shirt. Her pose, her posture, I could see it was perfect. That she was perfect. I didn't know who that was, but I made a mental note to ask Phil about her later.
From somewhere I could hear the faint sound of skates grazing the ice. Then there were muffled voices. I followed them through the corridors to a glass door. Behind it, I could see the rink. Taking a deep breath, I walked in, hoping not to disturb the skaters. It seemed to work, nobody had seen me entering. While Barton was currently performing a triple toe loop, quite smoothly even, while Ward and Morse were matching their strides to fall in pace for their routine. Phil stood with the back to me, supervising. He had not heard me yet and I took a moment to observe him. Standing there next to and not on the ice, one wouldn't have thought he had been a figure skating champion once. But the way he was following every movement the others made, the critical expertise I could spot from metres away gave him away as someone who knew what he was doing.
"Barton, higher! You can go higher!" he called over to the younger man, "Ward, Bobbi, start again! I can tell already it is not going to be a good one!"
Yep, I could tell that too. Though I doubted the next one would be much better. That was simply an air of negativity they didn't seem to shake off. Quietly I walked closer until I stood behind him.
"The toe loop wasn't half bad," I commented, delighted when Phil jumped in surprise.
"May, you scared me!" he huffed, "but you can also see he could do more with it."
I hummed in acknowledgement while Ward and his partner started their routine. At least they managed to transport their feelings individually now if not as a couple. Then all the three skated closer, obviously curious about me. Barton seemed to recognize me first and gave me a delighted smile whereas Bobbi looked as if she might faint and Ward only frowned.
"Guys, this is my former partner Melinda May. She is -"
"Just the visitor," I cut off the induction.
The black-haired man looked at me quizically.
"Melinda May is just the visitor?"
"It is an honour Ma'am," the blonde woman shut him up, shooting him a dirty look before smiling at me.
"Now, back to work," Phil ordered and they actually complied, leaving me to my observations.
Thank you for reading! What do you think?