This isn't as detailed as I usually write, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways. Prompt is based off of the combination of three requests from Tumblr. (Sort of). This was supposed to have been a drabble and now it's a two chapter fic. Spoilers for episode 2x14

The car to take Andrew back to wherever he wanted to go, had left moments before, the sound of the garage door closing behind it far too disconcerting as it echoed through the base loudly.

And even though he hated to admit it, Phil was relieved. Andrew's departure meant that he and Melinda could go back to their routine, without wounds from the past eating away at either of them. Though, suddenly, their routine was lacking in some way, its appeal different, changed, and buoyed by the hope he'd failed to tamp down after his discussion with Andrew days before. Phil found that he no longer wanted their old ways, his heart now exploring new avenues, leaving behind the familiar, worn paths that were cracked and covered in dust.

Of course, he'd take what she'd give him, the old or the new, for despite how good of a psychologist Andrew Garner might be, he could still be wrong. Phil's chest ached painfully at the thought and unconsciously, he winced, his fingers running over the scar on his chest lightly, through the fabric of his shirt, as he descended the stairs and passed into the hangar.

He frowned when he reached the bottom, his gaze failing to find her in the sheen of the blinding white lights above his head.

"May?" he called uncertainly.

There came a distant sound of shuffling from above before a faint, "I'm up here, Coulson," reached his ears. He crossed the large room quickly, his footsteps somewhat hurried as he ascended another, taller set of stairs and he took care not the accidentally bash the bottles of beer in his grip against the metal railing, because they'd need a drink regardless of where this conversation went.

The breeze as he cleared the hangar roof was chilly and he forced down the resulting hiss that tried to escape his lips as he crossed the catwalk towards her.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked gently.

Melinda was sitting on the roof, well away from the walkway and he realized suddenly that she must have scaled the railing and hopped over.

"Just thinking. The cockpit, while comfortable, isn't quite the same when the windows are surrounded by metal walls," she sighed distastefully. "And I needed the fresh air."

Phil nodded, before he struggled over the rail, which was a bit harder than he'd anticipated with his suit jacket constricting his arms and two long-necks in his hands, but he managed and soon enough, he was settled beside her on the cold surface.

"A lot on your mind?"

Phil didn't expect her to explain or to even speak really, but Melinda surprised him when she opened her mouth to do just that.

"Do you ever feel like you've mishandled something?"

He swallowed thickly, his heart dropping at the realization that this conversation was a direct result of her ex-husband and he sighed uncomfortably.

"Every day of my life."

Melinda looked like she might press him for details but she paused, allowing the silence to stretch between them before she took a swig of the beer he'd brought.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bag and she looked at him quizzically.

"You brought candy?"

"Don't I always?" he replied, handing the bag to her and grinning when she scooped out a handful.

They lapsed into companionable silence, munching on Twizzlers and Swedish Fish, both his and Melinda's favorites respectively. He stretched out his feet, leaning back on his elbows as he waited for her to finish her thought.

"It's funny, Phil," she began again. "As much as I regret the way it ended between Andrew and I, I don't regret my divorce."

"Ah, so no riding off into the sunset then?" he chuckled, somewhat relieved by her admission.

"Nope. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Always?" Phil asked, his amusement clear as she grinned.

Her eyes had softened as she stared at him and they were filled with a fondness she didn't show often enough and he relished in the sight of it.

"Always," she whispered, lifting her beer in a silent toast to which he happily returned, the click of the glass filling the cool air.

Melinda leaned back as well, her gaze turned upwards to the sky. For awhile they just simply watched, no desire to do anything other than sit with each other and watch the stars, their responsibilities on hold until morning. He was about halfway through his beer when she spoke again.

"Phil?" she asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"Tell me a secret."

He nearly choked on his drink as he laughed in surprise at her hushed demand. They hadn't played that game in years, decades even, and he was nearly overcome by a sudden rush of affection for the woman at his side. But Melinda wasn't laughing, just waiting patiently with the softest smirk he'd ever seen on her face.

He composed himself before answering, "What kind of secret, May? Besides, I thought we weren't keeping secrets anymore."

She rolled her eyes at him, but her grin was poorly hidden. "There's nothing of import that I'm keeping from you, you know that."

'Oh, but isn't there?' he wondered, not for the first time, if he was imagining every look or brief touch that had transpired between them since she'd joined him back in the field. He'd never attributed it to much, but maybe, just maybe, Andrew was right. Phil was banking on it.

"Anything?" he affirmed.

Phil watched as Melinda nodded, "Just tell me something I don't know."

He stared at her.

She'd given him the perfect opportunity and he didn't know if he was more frightened by the idea of telling her how he felt or more frightened by the tender look in her eyes as he sat up to face her, but he'd already made up his mind and there was no going back.

"I'm terrified, Mel."

Immediately, she tensed, her wistful tenderness disappearing to be replaced with worry as she sidled closer.

"Of what?"

His heart was thrumming nervously in his chest as she waited next to him, close enough now to be within reach, heartfelt concern spreading onto her beautiful features.

"Because I'm in love with you," he whispered over the pounding in his ears, "and I should have told you a long time ago."

Her shock was instant, eyes wide in surprise. "What?"

"I love you," he repeated, more confident now than he had been before he followed her up here. "And I'm afraid that this will ruin everything, but I can't help it, Mel."

Hesitantly, he touched her cheek, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, that tiny twinge of hope flaring brightly as she exhaled shakily and her eyes slipped closed. He didn't know if he was pulling her closer or if she had moved first, but at the first touch of his lips against hers, he shivered into it, his other hand coming up to rest on the expanse of her neck as she reached for his collar to hold him to her. She tasted like cinnamon and ale, the sweet burn of it lingering on his tongue as he pulled her closer still, his hands moving from the taught muscles of her jaw, up and into her hair as their kiss became more desperate. He broke it, sucking in air frantically before he returned to her lips, kissing her repeatedly until his lungs were on fire as her hand drifted to the back of his head, nails scratching lightly across his scalp.

It eased naturally, their initial eagerness slowing under the secure knowledge of their mutual feelings and, eventually, she ended the kiss with a sigh, but remained close enough that the tips of their noses were touching as they breathed the same air heavily, each exhale creating a fine mist between the two of them. He kissed her cheek, which was warm under the heat of her blush, and he smiled when she leaned into his caress.

"Tell me a secret, Melinda," he begged,echoing her words from just moments before. "Please."

Her eyes opened, that soft look back in her gaze, the brown of her irises suddenly misty as she tightened her arms around his neck, her lips against the shell of his ear as she whispered:

"It took you long enough."

This is probably a bit too corny, but oh well. Review?