May

Her movements were fluid as she tried to empty her mind of everything. The crisp morning wind tore into her hair but she didn't mind - it reminded her of the ice rink, the exhilaration she felt swirling and spinning around smoothly to the sound of the blades of her skates scraping the ice, carving the intricate patterns of her dance on the pristine surface. The turns and hoops her life have taken created a different dance; full of infinite sorrow peppered with elusive moments of happiness.

She imagined letting the cold breeze blow her pain into the wind until she was nothing but the movement itself. It was the second time she grieved for him; she had learnt how to push through the anguish. Phil always loved watching her do tai-chi - a wistful smile on his face - he used to say it was like an exquisite dance, he got her zen just through watching.

After her training, May headed back to the little cabin where she had lived alone for over a year. It was one of the many things Coulson passed down to her in his will. She moved here after he finally slipped away, with a tender smile on his lips, whispering to her that the last few weeks of their lives was everything he ever wanted.

Initially, May thought that she would go back to SHIELD once she was ready; once she had perfect control over the darkness that engulfed her once again. But the truth was that when she buried Coulson, it felt like all the fight went out of her. Maybe a clean break with the past was what she truly needed.

She stopped short when she saw a lonely figure sitting hunched over on her can run away from the past, she thought. Still, she felt an overwhelming and confusing mix of emotions to see him. In her mind he was all of it: the awkward and skittish boy who looked so out of place on the field, determined never to get his hands dirty, yet tearfully killing to save her, the shadow of his former self as he wandered aimlessly around the Playground trying to catch the words and ideas that perpetually seemed to slip out of his reach. She watched him grow and change, to lose the innocence and idealism, to harden and become a man, who would eventually sell his soul to save them. She remembered him as the little shithead he was in the Framework; tunnel-visioned, cruel and ruthless. And of course she would never forget the nightmarish moment as she watched in motionless horror the light slipping out of him, his confused eyes begging her for an answer she didn't have..

She knew that the team saved Fitz - but seeing him very much alive, his familiar blue eyes looking at her with uncertainty made it somehow real. It's not that she was not glad, but she could never talk to Fitz like she could with Jemma or Daisy. They were connected in complicated ways, through betrayals and shared sins of that other life which was unreal. Phil would have embraced him warmly, but all May could manage was a thin smile as she motioned him silently to follow her into the cottage.

He stepped in awkwardly, running his finger over the smiling picture of her and Phil sipping Mai Tais in the Tahitian sunset, smiling like they didn't have a care. On that day they didn't.

"I'm so sorry May." His voice was low and hoarse and he looked at his shoes as if the worn sneakers could reveal the truths of the universe, or at least something more to say.

She nodded. "Would you like some tea?" she asked trying to steer the conversation to a safer ground. She wasn't ready to hear his pain, her own was overflowing her as it was.

He sighed in relief. "That would be great. Thank you."

He followed her to the kitchen where she made two steaming mugs of tea - green for her, black for him. Like sometimes on the Bus, when their paths crossed in the small kitchenette at dawn - Fitz grabbing a cup after an all-nighter in the lab, May preparing her tea before her training session. Peaceful morning moments spent in comfortable silence.

Fitz was sipping his drink without a word, studying the kitchen shelves behind May's right ear, then focusing on the drawers next to her left shoulder - anything, to avoid looking into her eyes. His hands fidgeting with the teaspoon as he superfluously stirred the heaps of sugar in his cup betrayed his nervousness. He was clearly waiting for her to speak first, but May just sat and stared at him openly, some side of her enjoying his squirming. A small price to pay for breaking her self-imposed isolation. She could always out-silence anyone - it was one of her strength.

Fitz seemed to arrive at the same conclusion when he finally looked at her with a sigh. "You won't ask why I am here?"

"I'm guessing it's not for tea." May replied drily. "We don't have to make small-talk, Fitz. Neither of us is the type."

"Fine." He grimaced then pulled out a sheet of paper. May glanced at it - and her heart started to pound faster when she saw the familiar signature on the old mission report. The memories came rushing back. "What do you know about this?"

She looked at him searchingly. "Why are you looking into this, Fitz?" He clenched his jaw at the question and his hands balled into a fist, as he was trying to control their shaking.

"I met my…Alistair," he bit the word away. He could not bring himself to call the man who caused him so much misery his father. May vetted his personal file, she knew about the abuse. "He came to me with a warning about Brand Laboratories."

"What did he have to say?" She looked at him impassively, but she felt sick at the thought of the man whom she only knew from the Framework.

"That's just it. He died before he could say anything." Fitz shrugged a little.

A troubling thought flashed in her mind. "Did you kill him?"

Fitz wrinkled his brows in surprise. "What? Me? No." He fidgeted with his mug as he recounted the story.. "It was a sniper. I've been trying to find any connection, but a lot of the SHIELD files perished and this is the only thing of interest I could find. Do you know something about it?"

May curled her fingers around her cup and started to talk.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

June 1987, Glasgow

The weather was miserable. The rain was beating relentlessly, the sky was grey, painting the entire city with a gloomy, monochrome brush. May sighed as her umbrella seemed to be of no use with the drizzle seemingly attacking her from all directions. She pulled on her preppy pink cardigan that clung to her body uncomfortably, wishing she was dressed rather in her familiar leather garments. Finally, she spotted the black car that pulled up right next to her.

"Ready?" Phil Coulson grinned as he opened the car door for her, checking openly out her knee-length pencil skirt, and high-heel pumps. "You do clean up nicely, Agent May."

May suppressed the urge to smile back at him and instead using her most intimidating glare she said" You're late, Phil." ignoring his goofy expression.

His mirth was unaffected as he said lightly. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. Close your eyes, Melinda."

She rolled her eyes, but played along anyways. She could hear him smile. "There, now hold out your finger." He chuckled when she held out her middle finger with a vicious grin. "Not that finger."

His warm hand was on hers as he tugged gently on her ring finger and slid what felt like a ring on it. She opened her eyes in surprise to see his blue eyes glinting both with amusement and tenderness. "Here - my beautiful bride."

She glanced down on her finger to see a shiny wedding band that matched the one on his hand. When she was briefed, they told her it was undercover, but she didn't know they would pose as a married couple.

"Why all the smoke and mirrors?" May shifted in her seat.

Coulson winked at her then continued the debrief on a more serious voice. "The mission requires subtlety. SHIELD received some intel about a secret programme called Project Symposium run by Brand Corporation - tying a part of the work to Glasgow. There is a fertility clinic that seems to be connected to Brand Laboratories - I figured we'd check that out first."

"Really? Undercover at a fertility clinic? Are you sure you picked the right partner to be your sweet little wife."

"You know, I wouldn't pick anyone else, Melinda." His voice had a rasp to it that sent a tingling feeling through her body. Coulson was a huge flirt, his banter sweet, but effective. As much as she grumbled about it, she found their little game scintillating and was always looking forward to working with Coulson.

"Just learn our cover - ETA is 10 minutes." He shoved a folder into her hand as the car jolted forward.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The waiting room was bright and clean with colourful posters of angelic babies. "We can make your dream come true" the cheesy line advertised.

"Eugenics?" she whispered to Coulson who sat with a fake smile plastered on his face pretending to be engrossed in a brochure. He gave an almost invisible shrug.

A nurse came to collect them - she had perfect cheekbones and shiny blond hair. The nurses uniform was obviously designed to show off her curves rather than for comfort. "Mr and Mrs Carter?" She read from her clipboard on a sing-songy voice.

"That's us, honey." Phil jumped to his feet and offered her arm to May.

"Doctor Hirsch will see you now." They followed the nurse to the doctor's office who was a short, stocky man in his fifties. He went through their medical history in great detail. May mostly listened as Coulson recited the made-up background story about having tried for years for a baby without success.

"This clinic came highly recommended to give us exactly what we hope for," he finished looking at the doctor as if they shared a secret. Coulson was excellent at that - his easy-going nature lulled people into a sense of comfort, so they never realized when they said too much to him.

The doctor tapped his fingers. "I certainly do hope we can live up to our reputation and that you will be most satisfied with the outcome. I suggest we jump right into some exams."

May became uneasy - there was not supposed to be an examination, they were just going to sniff around a bit. "No way," she blurted out without thinking.

Coulson kicked her under the table and flashed a smile at the doctor. "She has always been a bit skittish about hospitals. Would you give us a minute?"

They stepped outside the corridor. "This has gone too far, Phil. There's nothing to learn here."

"Come on, Mel. I need a bit more time. Nobody could find anything on these guys - but you and I are the team that can crack this, I feel it. It's unpleasant, I admit, but I'll make it up to you. Drinks are on me tonight." he clutched her hand.

She pursed her lips, but nodded. They went back to the doctor's office. "We are ready." Coulson announced.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Are you sure this is the place?" May asked as she looked through the night goggles at the drab industrial building that looked like a warehouse.

"Élodie gave precise directions." Coulson smirked.

"Oh, so you're on first-name basis with the Barbie doll." May could not keep the edge out of her voice. She was suddenly acutely aware how she was the exact opposite of a Barbie doll; short, dark-haired.

"We all have to make sacrifices to get the intel." Coulson gave her a searching look. They sat in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder behind a container. "Look, a truck. Maybe we'll be in luck after all."

May took the goggles from him and watched as a dozen of men, all armed to the teeth jumped out and moved silently towards the building. "Phil, that's not a delivery, it's a strike team."

They started to run. Just as they got closer to the building, suddenly a number of blasts shook it. Coulson pushed her to the ground and sheltered her with his body as the rubble fell around them like rain. May,dazed by the shockwaves registered the warmth of his body and lifted her head just in time to see the crew get back into the truck and drive away. It moved too fast to see the licence plate, but in any case, it was surely untraceable. The fast and efficient way it happened, they were clearly dealing with a professional group.

The floor of the building was covered my broken glass and rubble, mixed with biological material and a liquid that could only be described as goo. They found a couple of corpses, among them Doctor Hirsch and the blond nurse, Elodie. Coulson took fingerprints, while May collected some samples from the floor to be sent for analysis hoping that it would shed some light on the mysterious activity that was ended so abruptly.

They heard the police sirens in the distance. "Time to clear out." They ran back towards the car and sped away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

May sat in the corner watching the patrons of the bar discussing local politics in an agitated voice, using colourful phrases that May guessed were not meant to flatter the city councilmen. Coulson returned with two glasses of whisky. May took a sip. It burnt her throat, but not in an unpleasant way; the amber liquid spread glowing fire around her core, calming her nerves.

"What is this?" She raised the glass to the light.

"HAIG. I figured after today we deserve the good stuff." Coulson smiled.

"Have you heard anything back from the lab?" she asked.

Coulson sighed. "The samples were too contaminated. They could identify some amniotic fluid and embryo tissues…The fingerprints are also a dead-end - these people were ghosts."

May nodded. You win some, you lose some is what they teach you first in operations. You try to move on, concentrate fully on the next move. But still, there was a detail bothering her. "Did...did they take some samples from you?"

Coulson grimaced. "Yeah, I try not to think about that.. On the flip side, it probably got destroyed in the blasts."

"It's a bit macabre." She stared into her empty glass.

"That disappeared fast." Coulson grinned and reached for the crystal. May watched mesmerized as their hands touched. That's when she realized they still both had the fake wedding bands on.

"I should give this back…" she started to remove it, but Coulson shook his head.

"It's not real, keep it. It could come handy one day." He got up and headed to the bar for a refill.

May nodded and played with the ring on her finger until Coulson returned with two full glasses and a bottle. "Actually, I got a whole bottle. If we ever have a worse mission than this, we'll drink this."

May clinked her glass to his with a coy smile. "I'll drink to that bottle to stay full for a long time."

Fitz listened to the story motionlessly. "So what happened after that?"

May shrugged. "SHIELD concluded that it was a clean-up operation and we were moved on to a different case. There was nothing left at the end to investigate."

"Or it was a cover-up of something they found." Fitz remarked drily.

May frowned. "You think someone in SHIELD buried it?"

"Wouldn't be the first time, May…" Fitz's eyes were intense. "Did my father's name ever come up?"

"You found a connection?"

He hesitated for a moment. "I think he was working for a security contractor at the time. The case report contains a recommendation to keep those people under surveillance, but the names are classified."

May shook her head. "I don't know, Fitz. It was a long time ago and I've never seen those lists. I was just a young agent with a low-level security clearance."

"Do you know who Coulson reported to?" Fitz poked for a different angle.

"Blake was usually in charge of science-related ops."

Fitz's looked at her surprised. "You mean Felix Blake of the Watchdogs fame? Whatever happened to him, May?"

"I don't know - he kind of disappeared after that incident with the nitramene." Fitz instinctively touched his neck. "We could pay a visit to some of my old contacts, see if we can find him."

Fitz shook his head. "I have to head back."

May felt the annoyance rise inside her. "Jemma doesn't know you're here." It wasn't a question. What was it with men and secrets? "Listen, Fitz. I'm still not sure I understand why you are digging into this. But I've been where she is, I've been where you are - and nothing from the past can destroy you as quickly as the secrets you keep. She's earned the right to know."

He stepped back and said defensively. "She's pregnant, May. I'm only trying to protect her and the baby." May closed her eyes. While she withdrew herself from the world, it kept spinning on. A life gone, a new life created. The thought of the baby invaded her heart - she instinctively thought of it as her own family.

"Then talk to her, Fitz. You are better when you are facing things together - never forget that." she said, her voice softer now.

Fitz looked at her long then nodded. "OK."

She smiled. "I'll call you if I find something."

"Thank you." He said softly, scribbling a phone number on a piece of paper. Then he grabbed his rucksack and headed towards the door.

"Fitz, wait." she called after him. "Coulson wanted you to have this. He never doubted Jemma would find you. And I'm glad she did." She gave him a small package.

"Thanks." He bounced on his feet awkwardly, his lips moving silently, visibly struggling to figure out what to say. He finally lifted his gaze at her. "It was good to see you, May. And don't forget, we all care about you… when you are ready."

She smiled. "I know, Fitz. Tell Jemma I'm happy for her. I'm happy for both of you."

As the door closed behind him, May looked at Coulson's smiling photo. "What do you think, Phil? Time to go back?" He stared back at her with that gentle expression he always wore when they were alone. May recalled as they giggled on the beach, having had perhaps a drink too much. Don't be alone, Melinda. We've built a family - they need you and you need them.

She opened a wooden jewellery box and took out the simple wedding band he gave her all those years ago. She closed her eyes and slipped it on her fingers. My beautiful bride...

Fitz

Fitz took out his cell phone and pressed the only number on speed dial.

"Fitz, where are you?" Jemma's voice was a mixture of reproach and relief. "I called the company and they said you left the site yesterday morning."

"I'm sorry, Jemma. I've been on planes. I'm in Canada." he replied softly.

"What's in Canada?" She wondered clearly confused.

"May. And - look, we have to talk. I have something to tell you. It may be nothing, but I don't want to talk about it on the phone." He tried to explain, expecting a barrage of questions. Instead there was a pause on the other end.

She sighed. "OK. I also have something to tell you, Fitz." Her voice was grave and Fitz was hit by a wave of worry. "Is the baby…?"

She cut him off. "We're fine. Just come home, Fitz."

"Love you, Jemma."

"Love you too. Have a good trip. Call me when you land."

Fitz hang up the phone feeling relieved. He took out the small package May gave her and slowly tore open the pulled out the postcard he left with Robin before he got in the CryoFreeze chamber and a limited 1978 SHIELD-edition spy-watch from Coulson's personal collection he once repaired for him. There also found a letter.

Fitz,

I'm so glad you made it back. I wish we could have done this in person, but I guess we are stuck with sending messages to each other across time. I've got yours and I can only hope you'll get mine.

Not because I have anything profound to say. But maybe I can tell you this as one dead man to another: second chances are rare. I've spent mine worrying entirely too much about the "why", and far too little pondering the "what". Don't make the same mistake.

It's been an honour to work with you, to watch you grow. You have not only an exceptional mind, but also an exceptional heart. Trust it. I'm proud of the journey you have made and glad to have been a part of it.

Philip J. Coulson

PS 1: That's the last bit of my collection, and I know you will take excellent care of it.

PS 2: It was NOT your fault. I know you tend to blame yourself. Don't. It was my choice and would do the same again.

Fitz stared at the familiar writing, almost hearing Coulson's voice in his head. A teardrop fell and smudged the ink. He hadn't realized that he was crying.