Being preoccupied with his own thoughts, so deep in thought, he initially didn't feel the firm hand being planted on his left shoulder. It was a couple of hours deep into the night and a couple of hours after he and May parted ways. He couldn't even remember why he decided to stay here, sat near the dimly lit kitchen, alone, hand palming the tumbler glass. He hadn't moved at all aside from the sporadic refilling of his drink.

"You okay, buddy?", Mace unexpectedly whispered into his ear, startling Phil. Mace swiftly placed another hand on one of Phil's shoulders to gently steady him, effectively preventing him from slipping off his seat.

Chuckling, the Director said, "Suffering from a bad conscience, are we? Relax, Phillip. It's just me."

"Sorry, it's been a long day", Phil said hoarsely, feeling the sudden need to down the rest of his drink in one go. He was in no mood to talk and he certainly wasn't drunk enough to deal with the new boss, their argument from earlier today still fresh in his mind.

"Tell me about it", Mace said as he patted one of Phil's shoulders. He let go of the other man and fleetingly regarded him with slightly frowned eyebrows before deciding to smile at him. For the briefest of moments, Phil smiled back while Mace took a seat across him.

"What are you having?", Mace asked curiously, gesturing towards the glass.

"Haig", Phil replied, looking at the amber liquid before glancing at the Director, his own right hand already moving towards the bottle. "Do you want some?"

Not that he actually felt like sharing. He'd been saving it for a special occasion with May after all, but Mace, surprisingly, had pulled through as well. The younger man had made a good impression on him today if he had to be honest.

"No, no. I'm fine," Mace smiled politely before playfully leaning in, "I have a not so secret agency to run in the morning, agent Coulson."

An amused look appeared on Phil's face, "One of the perks of the job that I don't miss."

Being reminded of their argument, Mace's face grew serious, and the fatigue from today's events became noticeable. "About that, about earlier," he paused, letting out a deep, long sigh. "I know this must be hard for you, but I want you to know-"

Phil had originally said it to tease Mace, to sneakily get back at him or to make fun of him – he wasn't certain why he'd said it, but he regretted it the instant he saw Mace's sober expression. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was a human being, too.

"I'm sorry for keeping secrets from you", Phil quickly interrupted, a solemn expression on his face while he looked at his glass, unable to direct his gaze at the man sitting in front of him. "I shouldn't have. We shouldn't have, but to be frank, we weren't sure if we could trust you. I'm… still not so sure."

He felt a pang of regret in his chest right away after he made that confession. Why was he confessing this to him of all people? And why did he even tell him this? What was the point?

Mace nodded, his voice thick with passion and sympathy as he said, "I understand, Phillip. I really do, but I need you of all people to start trusting me. I hope my actions today prove that I'm dedicated to being the best possible Director I can be."

"They do", Phil spoke softly and nodded slowly in return, still finding it difficult to look up, but oddly feeling somewhat reassured as well.

Now, the argument itself had made him uncomfortable - as any argument generally did, but it wasn't very much like him to start one. In fact, he usually avoided them, except it had been needed to remove any doubt, to clear any miscommunication between the two of them and to be able to come together as a team. He needed to know where Mace's priorities lay, and he had realised that Mace had been trying to protect them, to protect SHIELD. He'd been wrong. In a way, the younger man's respectability had risen at once from that moment on. Maybe, he felt, maybe their new Director could be trusted. Just maybe.

But Phil wouldn't allow the words to leave his lips just yet, wouldn't dare to say it out loud. What if, in the end, Mace couldn't be trusted?

"Phil", he could feel the intense blue eyes boring into him, begging Phil to regard him, so he did – calmly. Mace's eyes stared deeply into his own. "We make a great team, and I can't do my job without you. Agent Mackenzie was right: I'm not good at tactics, but you are. I need you."

Did he just...?

"Not good? No offence, Director, but you're absolutely horrible when it comes to tactics", Phil smirked shyly, deciding to ignore the rising warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Using Elena to recover a highly unstable radioactive substance? It was a bad plan from the start."

Mace smiled gently and raised his hands in defence, "Okay, okay, I suppose I deserve that."

The smirk on Phil's face gradually started to fade away. "Now, when it comes to optics, you're one of the best", he said, hoping to play it off coolly by taking a sip of his drink, and frantically hoping he wouldn't choke and have a coughing fit right there and then.

Mace blinked a couple of times before speaking, tired, and not knowing how to react. "Do you mean that?", he asked, his voice uncannily soft, earnest even.

"Yes", Phil answered, unable to mask the sliver of bewilderment in the tone of his voice.

"And you're not ridiculing me in any way?" Mace's eyes were still on him, suspicious, watchful, but there was a hint of desperation in them, a need for acceptance, for approval – to know he was doing the right thing.

"No, I've never seen anyone excel at that as much as you."

Did he mean it? He wasn't so sure. He personally never had to worry too much about the public eye when he was Director. They just had to stay out of it. More importantly: he had to stay out of it, being resurrected from the dead and all. Besides, he only had Fury's leading example, and he had done it seemingly effortlessly. Mace, on the other hand, seemed too engrossed in optics, but that didn't mean he didn't do well. He just... wasn't a very good Director overall. He lacked the understanding of the bigger picture, the one that was most essential. Phil was also fully aware of the fact that Mace had no prior knowledge of how to run a secret agency, let alone one as big as SHIELD. Mace was an absolute rookie by all means - a reporter who was simply chosen to do the job because of who he was, not what he was capable of. Of course, his previous experience as a reporter made him quick on his feet, sharp, open-minded, very much in tune with what the public wanted, and...

Manipulative.

But Phil wanted to mean it.

A genuine smile appeared on Mace's face, the first one of the night, and Phil once more felt the tugging in the pit of his stomach.

"It's probably because of that nice smile of yours", he said flirtatiously, unable to help himself.

Damn.

It'd slipped out before he knew it or even had a chance to think it through.

Mace shifted quietly in his seat in response, which was barely noticeable but Phil's trained eyes caught it. Mace then took an interest in his awfully bland tie, unsure how to respond accordingly. He promptly began to mutter about how pivotal appearances were, the tone of his voice steadily increasing with each spoken word, but Phil wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying. His focus was on the faint blush that had started to creep up the younger man's cheeks, betraying how the new Director truly felt. The rather cluelessness and insecurity of the man before him intrigued Phil, but it also took him by surprise. He was actually granted a glimpse behind the fabricated persona of Director Mace and into the mystery of Jeffrey's real self.

"But you're still pretty bad at tactics", Phil added hastily, cutting off Mace's tirade about something. Before unhurriedly taking a sip of the Haig, he was unable to hide the coy smirk from emerging, but his eyes were still glued on his superior. Mace's smile immediately vanished, as expected.

There was a brief silence before Mace interrupted it, curiosity taking the better of him, "Do you miss it?"

"Hmm?", Phil hummed, his mind leisurely returning back to reality.

"Do you miss being the Director?"

He was silent for a while, pondering. "Sometimes, I suppose", he paused, taking another sip to buy him more time - to think, to carefully choose his words. "But it's not an easy job. The responsibility, the decisions you have to make…"

"You can say that again", Mace agreed, almost rolling his eyes before a hand worriedly rubbed his forehead, revealing for a passing moment how truly drained and vulnerable he was. He then crossed his arms before his chest, keeping up his pretence while staring at Phil, pleased.

"Don't worry," Phil quipped, carefully observing the man across, "I'm not going to steal it from you, Jeffrey. I prefer being in the field."

"Oh, I'm hoping you'll try", Mace replied, eyes darkening with something he couldn't yet describe or place - a mischievous sparkle all of the sudden present.

Phil cocked his head slightly, confused, his eyes piercing Mace's. Instead of asking for clarification, he remained silent and hoped Mace would explain himself, but Phil himself grew more and more suspicious.

Something had changed.

"You've been an agent for quite some time now. You've even trained under Fury. You can't blame a guy for being curious."

A small shrug of the shoulders emphasised how lightly Mace thought of this.

Oh, Phil didn't like this change, and he certainly did not like where this conversation was heading.

"And by 'a guy' you don't happen to mean an Inhuman with super strength, right?"

Mace didn't say anything, kept eerily quiet. He simply smiled, but the mischief never left his eyes.

"You want to fight me?"

"Why not?", Mace shrugged for a second time. "I'm interested in finding out what SHIELD has to offer, and you're the best SHIELD has to offer."

"You know I can't beat you. Not even with this", and with that, Phil propped his left elbow on the table, emphasising his prosthetic hand.

"Oh, come on, Phil. It'll be fun."

That damn twinkle in his eyes was still there, still blatantly visible.

"Fun?!", Phil swallowed hard. "I'm starting to think we have very different definitions of fun, Jeffrey."

Mace laughed, "You should see the look on your face just now. Don't worry about it, Phil. I'm just trying to rile you up."

"And you're doing a pretty good job", Phil let out a sigh of relief. A hand had been absentmindedly clutching the tumbler glass in front of him on the table. "Thanks for that."

If they ever were to have a match to find out who was the strongest of the two, Phil would obviously lose. No doubt about it. He knew he couldn't compete with Mace, nor would he ever lie about that – to others or to himself. He was very much aware of what he could and couldn't do. Defeating an Inhuman, especially one with super strength, was one of the things he wasn't capable of. Limitations were often seen as burdens, but it didn't bother him at all. As a matter of fact, he chose his battles wisely because of it.

"But if I'm going to be out on the field more, I want you to train me," Mace paused, smiling to lighten the mood, "if you want, of course."

"'Going to be out on the field more'?", Phil repeated, frowning.

"Yes", Mace nodded. "Burrows told me it's good for publicity - that sort of thing. The way the public views SHIELD is extremely crucial -"

"I know, but wouldn't Daisy be more qualified for that?"

Mace shrugged. "I'm asking you. I already asked Agent Johnson, but she declined. I'm afraid my first impression wasn't particularly great. Agent Johnson doesn't know me very well, either. But if you don't want to, I promise I won't be too hard on you", he said, winking at Phil.

"I...", Phil paused to clear his mind. "Sure."

"Great!", Mace rose to his feet, beaming brightly. "I'll see you downstairs at 5:30?"

Phil looked at the clock beside him on the wall, eyes widening in realisation, and he immediately sobered up, protesting, "But that's in three hours."

Mace was already almost out of the door when he said, smirking widely, "You better get some rest, agent Coulson. I plan on offering you a real challenge in the morning."