shallowness: Black and white close up of Natasha's tilted face (Natasha Avengers intensity)
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Agents of SHIELD, PG, Melinda May/Phil Coulson
Summary: Only Phil Coulson would belt out a spontaneous proposal in a life-threatening situation. Written for the above prompt at [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic. 403 words.


A time and a place: shallowness


They're pinned down - again - by weapon fire. On the one hand, Fitz is far away, safe, so there's no need to worry about him. On the other, their opponents have gotten better at shooting with these weapons the more practise they have. They're a bunch of 'freedom fighters' who sideline in abduction, now armed with alien tech. It's not a combination Melinda May likes. It’s her mission to separate them, and it’s going to be her pleasure to complete it.

May spares Coulson, crouched by her side, a glance, because whatever plan she's going to come up with, she needs to know how her partner's doing. He said he was fine, he’s wearing body armor, but she’ll be glad to take it off and check for herself later.

"Julio's seems a while ago," he says, derailing Melinda's thought processes. It's barely days plural, but the past few hours have been filled with bad news and worry, desperate plans and more bad news. Julio's was a restaurant with terrible but cheery music and decent seafood on generous plates, where they were Phil and Melinda, relaxing under the night sky on a date. Her dress is in a SHIELD locker and skin has been coated with layers of sweat and gunshot residue, probably even flecks of blood, since then.

She nods in agreement. Julio’s does seem a while ago.

"I meant to ask you something then," he says in a more casual tone than she's heard from him since the alarm was raised by a panicked phone call, interrupting their dessert. There’s another burst of fire and another piece of wall dissolves.

"Oh," she says, noting that Phil's in a weird mood, although he’s been returning fire effectively, so if she aims the flash-bang device Skye handed to her just right, he should be able to handle these amateurs, dangerous as they've proved to be, long enough for her to get to them and finish this.

"But now's good, I think."

May is calculating where the flash-bang will make the greatest distraction, but she throws him another glance after taking another shot and emptying her cartridge.

"For what?"

He's smiling, a little nervously.

"Will you marry me?" he asks.

Melinda's heart soars like the first time she took out a Quinjet. Only Phil Coulson would ask her this here and now.

"Of course I'll marry you, you idiot," she says. "Now, cover me."




Fin

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