Based on S1-E6

Jemma Simmons was sitting in her bunk, thinking about the weird day she had had. She was sure that it had been the right call to make. She and Fitz had done all they could to solve the problem, but failed. She could not just explode inside the bus and risk everyone else's lives! So she incapacitated Fitz, locked him inside the lab and jumped. How was she supposed to know that the third rat had only been left temporarily unconscious?! Good thing that Ward was so skilled at sky-diving that he managed to catch up with her in time to giver her the cure and saver her from her death.

By the time she regained her senses, they were in the water. Ward had managed to pack the wet parachute nicely in its backpack and a Moroccan fishing boat was coming closer. Ward reminded her that the protocol in these unplanned extraction situations was to use a simple undercover story. Therefore, Coulson would come alone to pick them up from the harbour. She would be the wayward daughter that went for a waterski joyride with her non parental-approved new boyfriend.

She was a bit taken aback by how well Coulson inhabited the annoyed father character. He gave her a brief tight hug, which she retributed, being so relieved to be alive. But her relief soon turned to worry. Making sure they were locking eyes, Coulson told her in a voice that broke no argument, that they would be "discussing the appalling behaviour at length" once they got home. Simmons blushed and looked away. She was having a flashback to when she was eleven and sneaked from her house after her curfew to attend a biochemistry club for nine graders. Her dad was waiting for her when she snuck back - it was the first and only time her punishment was not a grounding.

After a brief chat with the local authorities, Coulson firmly but gently grabbed her harm and frog-marched her towards the car, where Ward was already seated in the back seat, looking nonchalant. This meant that Simmons had to sit in the passenger seat and endure Coulson's disapproving aura. Noone said a word during the thirty-minute long car drive.

Simmons was surprised that noone was waiting by the bus to welcome her back - not even Fitz! Was he pissed off at her? She found out later that Coulson had asked May to take Skye and Fitz for some fieldwork training drills nearby. He obviously wanted no witnesses when he dealt with her. As they got out of the car, Coulson pointed up at the stairs, wordlessly. But Ward and Simmons knew his gesture meant: they should meet him in his office as soon as they changed out of their still damp clothes.

The long car ride had not been enough for Coulson to make up his mind. There were protocols to follow. Simmons should be suspended for disobeying orders, but getting a substitute would not work. He also could not ground her to her small bunk - he needed the complete FitzSimmons team. At the same time, her behaviour was completely unacceptable - she was an agent, she knew the rules, she needed and expected some sort of punishment. They needed an alternative that wold be appropriate and effective, so that that it would properly deter her from repeating it. He was at a loss - so he called her parents.

Coulson (business-like, on the phone): Hello, Agent Phil Coulson from Shield here. Sorry for calling you at this strange hour but I am facing a dilemma and I hope you can help me.

Mr Simmons: Oh, hello Agent Coulson. Nice to hear from you.

Coulson (sounding regretful): My dilemma is about your daughter, Mr Simmons. I cannot give you the exact details of our mission, as it is classified, but suffice to say that she blatantly disobeyed my orders and put herself at serious risk. The official S.H.I.L.D. protocol would be to suspend her for a considerable time, which is not a viable option for out team and the missions we do. Lives do depend on it. Our team operates more like a surrogate family, and I have green light to bend some regulations.

Mr Simmons: Agent Coulson, you talk about being a family. And the little Jemma has shared, I think she sees you as a father-figure. We oarents have other alternatives to time-outs and lengthy groundings. And I can tell you that a spanking would be very effective with my daughter. I only had to do it once, and for a similar transgression when she was eleven. It was rather effective.

Coulson (taken aback): A spanking? But she is an adult now and I'm not her *real* parent. Wouldn't it be innapropriate? Even despite the fact that I have had to be her father on several undercover missions. I know it comes naturally to both of us – it's not like Jemma is a good actress.

Mr Simmons (chuckling): Indeed. But I see that you never had to reprimand her for real before. In my experience, a stern talking-to generally works but Jemma went through a fase between eight and thirteen years-old where this was not always true. She kept testing me and one time I had to actually spank her. Weirdly enough, both toddler and proper teenager Jemma were pretty easy going. Maybe she reached her second rebellious stage now, with you.

Coulson (holding the bridge of his nose): Oh no, I'm not sure I'm ready for that - from Jemma or any of the other "kids" I have on my team.

Mr Simmons: Agent Coulson, you don't have to be a parent yourself to have good instincts. Your decision to call me proves it. I trust that you will know what to do. Jemma's face is like a book, so it will be easy for you to gage if a verbal reprimand has been enough, or if you need to be, let's say, more persuasive. For kids like Jemma, a rare well timed swat can do wonders. You have my blessing for it. And if you ever need discuss parental issues again, I'm available.

Coulson: Thank you very much, Mr Simmons. I might take you up on that offer of guidance. Goodbye, Sir.

Mr Simmons: Goodbye, Agent Coulson. And good luck!

The time had come to have the serious talk with Jemma.

When Jemma saw Coulson's face, her certainty that she would be praised for her selfless heroic act faded slightly. She had never seen that expression on him - but a more than few times on her dad's face. With lowered eyes, she just stood next to Ward, as Coulson started berating them - well, berating her.

Coulson: Don't get me wrong! I'm happy you're both alive, truly. And I realize *you* were trying to save the team. But, what *you* did today, that was not your call. Just getting you out of the water, do you have any idea what a pain it is dealing with the Moroccan office?

Simmons, who had a small smile upon hearing that Coulson is "happy" despite his face, lost it when he said what she did was not her call. Who cares about the Moroccan office? She wanted to retort but Coulson did not let her. With a steely voice that promised unpleasant consequences if his words were not heeded, he stated punctuating each and every word.

Coulson: Don't you *ever* pull a stunt like that again. We'd hate to lose you, Jemma.

Simmons: Thank you, sir.

Coulson thought he did a good job. Simmons looked adequately contrite and chastised. He had almost lost his cool when she opened her mouth to interrupt him, but luckily she thought better of it. With a meaningful look at Ward, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat to deal with the damned Moroccan paperwork. He was still rattled and let it show in his face - it became darker. Ward starts to leave his office, but Simmons hesitates.

Simmons: Oh, does that mean we're to leave now?

Coulson just stares at her, she waits a beat and starts to follow Ward. Coulson closes his eyes, as it downs on him that the verbal scolding did not work after all - she should have been eager to leave his office. Coulson sighs, stands up and calls her back.

Coulson (in a serious voice): Actually Simmons, please stay behind.

Simmons thought he wanted to discuss something about lab work. She happily hopped up the spiral staircase, thinking it made it look like she was going into Dumbledore's office. But when facing the Director, she realizes that this beardless Dumbledore also lacked the typical twinkle in his eye - Coulson looked like he had reached a decision that he was not happy with. What was going on?

Simmons (in a tentative voice): S-Sir?

Coulson: Jemma, I need you to be completely honest with me now. If ever faced with a similar situation in the future, would you change your behaviour?

Simmons wondered if this was a trick question. Of course she would sacrifice herself if need be. That was part of the job. And Spock and Captain Kirk had nailed it with "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few… or the one".

Simmons: Of course not Sir. To quote a great mind, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of …

Coulson (raising a hand): Stop right there, young lady. Do not dare quote Spock to me.

Simmons stopped, now feeling a bit worried. Only one other person had ever called her "young lady" was her dad, when she was in big trouble. Coulson sighed. There it was in black and white. His words had not sunk in. It was a good thing he had phoned her parents for advice. His paternal instinct was telling him to go to plan B.

Coulson (disappointed): That was the wrong answer, Jemma. As I stated before, this type of situations are not *your* call. They are *mine* to make. As it is also my unfortunate task to make sure you remember this lesson.

He moved out from behind his desk to stand next to her. Simmons took a small step backwards, unsure of where this was going. She was having a dejà-vu. She had been eleven and broke curfew. Her dad was waiting for her when she got back. Mr Simmons had said the exact phrase as Coulson before… before he… Did Coulson know?

Coulson (resigned): Now, since I cannot afford to officially suspend you nor confine to you bunk, we need to use an unconventional punishment. I spoke to your father and gave me a suggestion.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no…" thought Simmons. She looked at Coulson and blushed red, while her hands instinctively flew to protect her behind. Surely he was not planning to do *that*…

Coulson (eyes locked, studying her face): Do you trust me, Jemma?

Simmons (hesitantly) : O-Of course, S-Sir.

Coulson: Alright then. Let's get cracking, pun intended.

Simmons was too shocked to argue with him. Time seemed to slow down as she saw him place a foot on a nearby chair, turn her around and make her bend slightly over his raised knee. He then placed five painful smacks with a wooden ruler to the seat of her pants. Where the heck did that ruler come from? He then added one smack for each word of the message he wanted to impart: "It. Is. Not. Your. Call." At this point, Simmons could not hold it in any longer. A couple of tears fell and a pitiful sob mixed with a "Ow! I pro-promise I'll be-be googood next ti-time" escaped.

Coulson just stopped. No more smacks were necessary. Mr Simmons knew his daughter well, indeed. He dropped the ruler on the table and, holding her hands in his, he gently helped stand up again facing him. She just stood there, looking at her own feet, with a couple of silent tears falling down her pink face. She looked so young. "What do I do now?" he thought. "I always needed a hug after a reprimand when I was a kid."

Coulson (speaking gently): Ok, Jemma. All is forgi…

Simmons lunged into him while simultaneously tightening her grip on his hands. It felt a bit awkward, and her head collided straight with his chest, winding him a slightly.

Coulson: … ven. We better not have a reason for another such discussion in the future.

She shook her head but said nothing. He disengaged one of his hands and half hugged her back. S.H.I.L.D. had been all that mattered to him in his adult life. But now there was this bunch of eclectic people competing for that space in his heart. The heart that got stabbed by Loki's staff. The staff which literally killed him and yet changed him for the better.

After a few minutes, he noticed Simmons was attempting to escape the hug. He immediately released her but she would not let go of his hand. Now calmer, she looked up at him.

Simmons (earnestly): I'm so sorry for worrying you, Sir. I promise it won't happen again.

Coulson looked at her pointedly.

Simmons (fast): And I will follow orders!

Coulson (now smiling): Apology noted.

He paused for a second, and then let out a chuckle. The twinkle in the eye was back too.

Coulson: I'm not sure I would ever feel I had a family, but you guys feel like one. I should edit the section on "the dangers of emotional attachments" in the S.H.I. . guidebook to fit our new situation...

Simmons (somewhat cheekily): Indeed you should, Sir. But perhaps also add that wooden rulers are dangerous and should not be allowed anywhere near Directors.

Coulson pretended to go for the ruler again as he told her to "You better get back to work, agent Simmons!". She smiled and left the office, surreptitiously rubbing her still smarting backside.

Coulson got back to the pile of paperwork on his desk. He might not understand why he was not dead, nor how long this second chance at life would be. But he decided to just enjoy the fact that this time around he could have both the job of his dreams and a family - even the latter was stranger than many things he had seen on missions. And he had seen a lot.