Cascading Water

Oh shit.

That was really the last comprehensive thought that Phil Coulson remembered having before an armored car slammed into the SUV he was doing surveillance in. He had, of course, hoped that he was being discreet enough, but with all the innumerable threats against him and his team's life, he wasn't really surprised by the turn of events.
The SUV had essentially been squashed between the oncoming vehicle and an inconvenient telephone pole, which deployed the airbag right into his torso. Because of this, he suffered severe bruising along his entire upper body, including his ribs, and all the air was knocked out of him. He could feel himself beginning to black out when all of a sudden, he noticed a Hydra recruit making his way towards the wreck.

Coulson willed himself to move, but found that he was trapped tightly. Any semblance of a plan was evading him because he was in so much pain. There was a deep gash along his forehead, and the blood was starting to trickle into his eyes. He'd sprained fingers on both his hands, since he'd been bracing himself for impact, and could feel glass in his thigh from when the windshield had shattered inwards. He wasn't consciously wondering if this would be the end, but something deep down inside of him began preparing for the worst...

It was probably the bright light back on the Bus that eventually woke Agent Coulson. Surprised to find himself suddenly on Simmons' operating table, he attempted to sit up and question what had happened, but was immediately pushed back down by Fitz. "Now sir, just relax, okay? You've had some trauma, but we're takin' care of it." He continued gingerly administering antibiotics to Coulson's stitched-up head wound.

"But how did I get here?" Phil managed to choke out.

"Agent May brought you in, and not a moment too soon," Simmons replied, cutting bandages to wrap around his injured mid-section.

"Ya, and kicked some guy's ass, s'far as I can tell," Fitz continued. "She's banged up too, but not like you."

"I think I was in a car acci-ugh!" Phil gasped as Simmons touched his ribs by mistake.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! There's nothing I can do except wrap them. You don't want to damage them further."

"And you were. In a car accident, I mean," Fitz replied softly, turning to show Coulson a large piece of the glass that he had removed from his leg. "This was from your vehicle." He shook his head in disbelief at the size of the specimen. "Anyway, May saw the whole thing. Lucky she was there."

Yes, lucky, Phil mused. He allowed Fitz-Simmons to continue with their ministrations, trying hard not to make a sound as they tended to his wounds. He attempted to distract himself by looking around the room instead, and was surprised to see a silent Melinda May standing vigil outside the med lab doors. Her back was to him at first, but she must have felt his eyes on her because she turned around. Anyone else on the team would have disregarded her cold look as a quiet appraisal of the whole operation, but Coulson knew differently. She's worried about me.

May left before Fitz-Simmons finished, and so it fell to them to help Agent Coulson stand for the first time since the accident. "Come on, up you go," Jemma supported him. He winced as his feet touched the ground and his ribs and stomach were stretched.

"Feelin' okay, sir?" Fitz inquired.

Yeah, I'm fucking fantastic. "Yeah, thanks guys. Just help me get a shirt back on. And pants. Am I wearing pants?" He tried to look down but his vision swam from the injury he'd sustained on his forehead.

"We've had to cut away your trousers, sir, I'm sorry. We can help you up to your room if you like, after we assist you with your shirt."

"No," Coulson replied softly. "Just call May. I need to talk to her anyway." He missed Simmons' meaningful glance to her partner, but neither of them dared to speak regarding his wishes.

Fitz got the message out to Melinda while Jemma dealt with Coulson's grimaces; his attempts to clothe himself were pathetic, since he could barely move. "Oh, uh, let me just help you with that." Her feigned cheerfulness made him feel like an old man in a nursing home, but he allowed her to assist him with gingerly getting his arms in his sleeves. She glanced up at him, wondering if he would try to button the shirt himself, but he seemed resigned to her help, and allowed her to do them for him instead. By the time she had finished, May had arrived, ready to escort him.

"How you feeling?" She asked quietly.

Coulson tried to shrug nonchalantly but gasped in pain when the sudden movement jarred his ribs.

"I'll take that as my answer. Come on, let's get you to your room." She put her arm gently under his shoulder and helped him shuffle along to his own quarters. Phil could hear Fitz-Simmons call words of encouragement to him until they turned the corner.

"Are you cold?" May asked him as they edged closer to his door.

"Yeah, this whole 'no-pants' situation is not really my style. And kind of embarrassing, I have to admit."

"Don't worry. I made sure that everyone else stayed in their rooms until I got you back to yours."

Phil gave a wry chuckle. "Are you telling me you pranked the other poor, unsuspecting members of our entourage?"

"Of course. What other reason would I have to leave you while you were being fixed up?" Phil's heart leapt into his mouth unexpectedly. He had not been quite prepared for her to say that. "Besides, I couldn't let them see you like this. Having Fitz-Simmons tend to your wounds was bad enough, but I just couldn't take care of all of the damage by myself."

Coulson stopped for a minute. "You followed me out in the field, huh?"

May looked at him, daring him to challenge her for doing it. "Yes."

Phil appraised her with his eyes, making her nervous, though she would never outwardly show it, then kissed her on the cheek, lingering intimately for a second. "Thanks." May's countenance never cracked, but he knew that showing of gratitude was enough between friends, and began walking again. "So how'd you get me out of the car?"

"I ripped the door off," she replied quietly. Her heart was still racing from his lips, similar to its racing in fear when she'd seen him trapped in the crumpled metal.

Damn. "You ripped the door off?" He said incredulously.

"Yeah. I beat the shit out of that loser and left him in the street, and then got you out, got your stuff out of the car, and got us the hell out of there." He felt her stiffen slightly as the memories returned to her. "You were unconscious and I was scared," she finished in a low voice, as they finally arrived at Coulson's room.

"Well if you think I'm not going to invite you in after a story like that..." Phil trailed off smiling, waiting for her to open the door.

May laughed, relaxing once again. "It's cute that you think you could stop me from coming into your room and helping you in your current state." She pushed open the door and guided him carefully inside. "Besides, the reason I asked you if you were cold earlier is because I think you should take a hot shower."

Coulson looked at her skeptically. "I can't say I really feel up to that right now."

"So you're going to go to bed with dried blood all over you, in dirty clothes that have grease, and sweat, and God knows what else on them? I don't think so." She gazed down at his legs, and even in the low light, it was clear that they were shredded from the glass. "Come on. I'll help you."

If Phil hadn't been in so much pain, what she offered might have registered better. "Excuse me?"

"I'll help you," she repeated quietly, stepping out of her own pants. She had simple, plain black shorts on underneath. Her socks and shoes had already been discarded nearby. "Sit. Slowly." She eased him gently back into his leather reclining chair after covering it with a towel, and tenderly removed his shoes, then his socks. "Do your feet hurt?"

Phil closed his eyes; it felt so good to sit. "No. But the rest of me is making up for it."

Melinda gently took his left foot in her hand and began kneading it, making sure not to apply too much pressure. Phil opened his eyes in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Stop it, you need it. It will make it easier to stand in the shower in a few minutes." She caught his eye and wordlessly kept him from protesting. Her ministrations only lasted a short while, but it seemed to take away some of the weariness from his body. She did both feet and then slid off her top before standing up. If Coulson hadn't been on so much pain medication, he would probably have enjoyed the tightness of her stomach and the perfect curve of her breasts to a greater extent. "I like that bra," he said without thinking. Melinda smiled.

"Good. You technically bought it for me, since I used that gift card you gave me on my birthday to get it."

Money well-spent. It always amazed Phil how some people could make anything look good, even a simple black sports bra. "Well hopefully you are similarly enjoying my boxers," he said.

"Why, did I give you the money for those?"

"No, I just thought you might have noticed how exceedingly handsome I am in them." Phil smiled, less than innocently.

May rolled her eyes. "Yes, they are stunning, and thankfully, you can keep them on in the shower, since I plan to be keeping mine on." Phil made a mock frowning face, so his companion laughed and replied, "Okay, we'll just remain open instead to going "wherever the night may lead us.""

Her perfunctory air quotes made him chuckle. "Your sarcasm hurts me."

"You'll be fine. Okay, are you ready for the next less-than-enjoyable step?" When Coulson closed his eyes in surrender, May leaned over him and hooked her arms under his.

"We're getting too old for this," he sighed.

"Too old for what?" Her voice was quiet, her face less than an inch from his.

Coulson shook his head almost imperceptibly, so as not to jar his fresh wound. "To take care of each other." He opened his eyes, meeting her brown ones with his own pair of azure blue.

"Phil," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't put a limit on how long I will care for you." She never broke their gaze, and all the world was still; there seemed to be no need for any other words. Coulson leaned forward instead and touched his lips softly to hers, asking silently to hold onto the moment a second longer with her. The universe moved around them in waves, enveloping them together, and time passed unannounced. When the two stirred from their reverie, it was hard to believe that they were still leaning over a reclining chair. "Well, I guess -" May didn't quite know what to say. "I guess, uh, we better get you cleaned up."

Phil was still caught up in the memory of her lips, but he motioned that he was ready. She moved as slowly with him as she possibly could, but he felt a stab of pain anyway as he tried to lean on her support to stand. "This sucks!" He managed to gasp out.

"I know, but we're almost there." Finally, the two of them were on their feet together, but both were breathing hard. May smirked at him and jokingly asked, "Have you put on weight recently?"

"Please, this is all muscle! You act like I'm not in the gym with you every day." Phil rolled his eyes playfully. "You know I'm your spotter."

"Spotter, huh? I think the term you may be looking for is 'groupie.'" May laughed and put on a strange, deep voice, mocking Coulson. "Oh May, I just love your rock-hard abs, and how you do those back-bends. Show me again!"

"I have never said that in my life," her friend sniffed. "And rock-hard? You wish."

"Oh really? I wish, huh?" May moved even closer to him. "Well sir, why don't you just feel them and see for yourself?" She took his hand and placed it on her midriff before either of them really knew what they were doing, and Coulson couldn't help the ripple he felt in his stomach once he touched her warm skin. It was as smooth as silk, and she was much too close to him to stop a burning fever from sweeping over his very being.

"I think, if pressed, the word I would use to describe your body is soft." He said quietly. It was clear that Melinda understood his meaning, since she covered his hand with her own and caressed it tenderly with her thumb.

Although both were reluctant to break the spell of their touch, May found herself eventually saying, "Alright, no more distractions," Pleasant as they are, she added silently. "Let's get you into the shower." She let go of his hand and stepped to the side of him, carefully putting her arm around his shoulder again.

"I still have a shirt on," Phil replied matter-of-factly.

May chuckled. "Thank you for your on-the-go report of all things obvious. We'll remove it in here while the water heats up." They'd made it into the bathroom, and she assured herself that Coulson was steady on his feet before she let go of him to turn the shower head on. The room began to fill pleasantly with steam, and May returned her attention to her companion. "What movement hurt when Simmons helped you put your shirt back on?"

"Bending my arms back to get them in the sleeves," Phil recalled, not looking forward to a repeat performance of that in the next few minutes.

"Well, we'll just have to figure out a different plan then, won't we?" May was so close to him that he could see the steam start to collect and glisten on her skin. As she reached for the first button, his stomach leaped in a fit of butterflies, and he had to remind himself that nothing was going to happen. At least, certainly not in his current state.

Agent May may not have known what he was thinking, but she wasn't exactly helping the situation any. She slowly and steadily undid the buttons, trying not to rush things and inadvertently hurt him by tugging on the shirt too harshly. Coulson's mind raced as the room got hazy from the steam, and Melinda had to lean closer to see what she was doing with the tiny button work. He sucked in a breath as his chest was exposed to the damp air for the first time and she looked up at him, startled. "Did I hurt you, Phil? I'm sorry."

"No, no. Everything's fine." His reassurance was almost too quick, but May seemed not to notice. She returned to her work and undid the final few buttons, uncovering his scar from Loki as she did.

"Phil?"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember when you used to tell me that our scars were beautiful between us, because they proved that we were both still alive?" She reached out a slender finger and gently drew it along the line that would never leave his body; Coulson felt his stomach shudder at her touch.

"I remember."

Silence reigned once again between the two, as deep companionship often doesn't need to be punctuated by words. The steam rolled around the room like a fog, making the room seem more magical than ordinary, but the spell eventually broke, the pounding water in the background reminding them of their mission. "Let's get those clothes off, shall we?"

Phil smiled good-naturedly. "You always were one to get me naked at the most inopportune times."

Melinda rolled her eyes as she prepared to unsheathe his arms from his shirt. "Tell me one single instance, if you even can."

A good strategy, trying to distract me from the pain. A good friend, I should say. "Okay. How about that time we were doing basic training for S.H.I.E.L.D., and they left us in a forest for a week to survive with only a few supplies? You convinced me that fish were less likely to notice someone trying to catch them if the person didn't have bulky clothes and gear on."

May chuckled and moved his arms gently behind him. "You were an idiot to believe me. How long did you nurse that cold?"

"A lot longer than I would have had to if my clothes didn't wash down the river, thanks." He winced slightly as she began easing the sleeves over his wrists.

Melinda tried not to laugh, but her snort gave her away.

"Oh you think that was funny, huh?" Phil smiled as she began sliding the shirt backwards off of his shoulders. "Was it as hilarious as the time you made a fake mission for me (that you swore Director Fury had personally devised, by the way,) which involved me going undercover as a stripper?"

May burst out laughing. "Shut up! I'm trying to do this."

Coulson chuckled, too. "I could have killed you when I realized you and the rest of our class were there in the back, rather than my intended target."

She nearly had the shirt off now. "But you can't say that whole night was a waste! As I recall, you made over a hundred dollars."

"What can I say? I was a natural," Phil winked as the last clinging part of the shirt finally fell from his aching body. "God, that feels amazing."

"The water's going to feel even better. Come on." She led him over to the cascading, open shower and got under the pouring liquid with him. "Is the water hurting your head?"

"No, as long as it doesn't hit it directly." Phil reached up slowly, careful not to move his arm or shoulder too quickly. In his hair, he could feel crusted, dried blood that he hadn't been aware of before.

"Want me to wash it?" May looked at him inquiringly.

He lowered his arm, wiping water from his eyes as he did. "Yes, please."

He watched as she soaped up her hands and reached gently for him, careful to keep the shampoo away from his head injury. Her tender fingers massaged out the damage that had been done to his body, and left behind a sense of renewal and cleanliness that he hadn't even been aware he'd been craving. She rinsed his hair clean, taking care to only allow pure water near his wounds. "Feel better?"

Coulson inclined his head yes, so May said she would do his back too. She unwrapped the bandages that Simmons had provided, which began below his rib cage and extended to the top of his hips. She laid them out over the sink, hoping they would at least somewhat dry, and moved her attention back to her companion.

Squeezing the scented soap out onto the palms of her hands, she rubbed them together and walked around behind him. Touching his neck gently first, she moved her hands in a serpentine motion down his body, taking great care to stay away from his ribs. Her hands moved lightly up and down his back, washing away the grime and the blood, the chaos and the fear of the day, and Coulson bent his neck forward, enjoying her tender ministrations, lost in his own reveries of what could be. He wasn't even fully aware when she made the switch to cleansing him with water; he just knew the heat felt so immeasurably good on his strained muscles. When she had finished, she placed her hands along his spine and kissed the back of his neck, comforting him without sound. He longed to turn around and hold her body to his, but knew it would only cause him physical pain. It would have to wait. But do moments like these come more than once in a lifetime? He wondered.

He felt, more than saw, her move around to the front of him again. The water ran rivulets down his head and neck, cascading off of him in diamond jets of clarity. "I guess that's that then. All clean." He longed desperately to reach out and trace the contours of her body, to move his fingers over the expanse of her skin and prove to her the depths of their relationship. He was mesmerized by her jet-black hair, falling around her face like the night sky, completely overpowering and completely beautiful.

"What is it, Phil?" Her almond eyes searched his, wanting to be let in on the secret.

"I just wish that we could stay like this forever." He reached out and caressed her cheek with his thumb, and she leaned into it, nuzzling his hand.

"Yes, me too."

The water continued to fall, intimately embracing the two soulmates, and thankfully, both were wise enough to know that although forever is not possible, sometimes the present can be filled with wonder enough to last.

THE END

* Author's Note: I sadly own no characters from "Marvel: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.," but I certainly own every story idea that comes into my little head. Thanks for reading one of them today, and please review!