athosing | iv.

[ Before, neither of them would have been ready. They still had too many balls spinning, too many unknown players on the field. It wouldn't have been possible and he doubts she would have been able to leave any more than he was.

But now, well now their world is further tinged by loss and grief. Now the scoreboard's all up and finished, the dust is gathering in the cracks. Skye has loved and lost her parents and Phil - well, he could definitely use a hand adjusting. Besides, now there are other people at the top of shield. He thinks, he hopes, he's done enough to warrant a vacation.

Skye drives. Phil sleeps. The co-ordinates he gave her are easy enough to find and he's sure she'd wake him up if they got lost. He doesn't dream. And it's only when the car bumps along a familiar gravel path that he lets his eyes finally drift open. Trees surround them, the dappled sunlight now low and sweet in the sky. He takes a breath, tasting fresh air and clean earth on his tongue. When they turn at the fork in the road, the grass stretches out in front of him. It's not a cabin this time, it's a house, it has a picket fence. It's Phil's but he doesn't remember the last time he came out here so it doesn't quite feel like home.

Maybe with Skye though --.

Clearing the fog out of his voice with a cough, he turns with his head still resting on the passenger seat. ] Sorry. Didn't realise how tired I was. [ Lifting one hand - his only hand, Christ he has to get used to that - to rub at his eyes. ] You doing okay?

[She doesn't want to think about all that they've lost for her to end up behind Lola's wheel, so she keeps the happy memory of her father in the vet clinic in mind while she drives. She keeps the last hug Coulson gave her in mind while she drives. (The one he held onto her with both hands like she was precious, like he'd known how often they'd get separated.)

In the end, the truth is that she loves Lola and driving her, and that's enough to keep the drive pleasant even when it's just her and her thoughts and the road. She doesn't glance at Coulson while he sleeps in the driver's seat, because she doesn't want to ache, to want to reach over and brush her fingertips down his cheek and make sure he's really here.

Shocking, really, that he'd have a house even she hasn't discovered. Even more shocking, that it's The Dream house. Picket fence, out in the woods, pleasant and cozy and cute. It looks like a home - like a home away from everyone who might try to hurt you - and maybe it's a little scary.

So of course, that's when she wakes up, just as she brings Lola to a stop and parks it in the driveway.]

It's okay. The scenery's nice here. [She turns to look at him, finally, her hands still glued to the wheel. Touch him, her fingertips beg, but she doesn't, yet.]

Had a nice sleep there, AC?

[ He smiles and it's the dazed smile of the just woken up, his gaze falling from her to the house itself. ]

Dreamless, I suppose that's nice. [ Nowadays he's probably glad when he can close his eyes and not see a glowing list of his failures imprinted behind his eyebrows. ]

It is. [ The scenery was probably what brought him to this in the first place. It's picturesque, quiet, safe. He looks her way again. ]

We can turn around. If you want.

What? [That surprises her so much she lets go of the wheel. But they're here now, why would he want to leave? Has he changed his mind? It's pretty late to change his mind about sharing his safest safehouse with her, because she's seen it and drove here.]

No, I don't. [She unbuckles her seatbelt and turns around in Lola's seat.] I want to see how many fancy foodie kitchen appliances you're capable of stashing in a safehouse.

[Her hand reaches out, fingers brushing over his the elbow of his sling.] I bet there's a pasta maker thingy.

You looked a bit panicked. [ His explanation is gentle, his eyes softer when he looks at her. ] I didn't want you to feel under pressure. [ To go into a home he owns with him, to spend the time trying to heal on what's probably his territory to her. Part of him had thought about renting somewhere but he'd dismissed that on the idea that they needed their own space.

And he wants to share this with her. ] You'll be amazed. [ Though figuring out how to make pasta now is going to be a riot. ] It's colour coordinated. [ He has a dumb kitchen, please love him. ]

[She feels sheepish, because that explains it. She wishes it hadn't shown, because it had little to do with him and everything to do with her own fears of a home she loves being lost, over and over again.

But, looking at him now, she can see that he's defied all of the rules set by her past. He's home, and she has always found her way back here, and has never been pushed away willingly.

Her throat feels dry, suddenly, and she turns to kill the engine and open the door.] I'll get our stuff and the groceries, you go do the thing where you open it and turn the lights on. It's gonna be dark soon.

[ She's home for him too. But a roof over their heads and a bunch of furniture that hasn't been destroyed in a fire fight before might be nice. So when she moves he does the same, stepping out on to the driveway. He takes a moment though, just one, in which to tip his head back and breathe. He hasn't been here in so long, he's a different man now. ]

I can still take a case you know.

[ He directs this comment to the back of the car where Skye is unloading their belongings. He doesn't like having to rely on her. Not when that kind of stuff used to be his gesture. ]

[For a moment she almost goes back to her way of behaving after the surgeries, after he'd come out of them with one stump and a light missing from behind his eyes, and flinches. But that was then, and they're here to heal.

She looks at him over her shoulder.] Hey - person driving Lola's the one giving the orders here.

[ He smiles and doesn't point out that he won't be driving Lola again, instead ducking his head in playful obedience. ]

Okay, lights. But call me if you need help.

[ At least he had the foresight of putting the house keys in the pocket of his blazer that he could actually reach. It still takes him a moment, using his foot to kick open the door and leave it wide for Skye as he moves to the kitchen. The electric box is easy enough and so he switches it on and then moves through all the places they'll need, leaving the place lit but cosy. ]

[Hasn't he heard promising stuff about prosthetics? How about Dr. Cho? He shouldn't give up - unless he wants to give into her, instead. See how that is, for another change. He's not the Director while they're here, and if he brought her to his secret house and they're going to be domestic, then they're going to do it by the book.

She brings in just the groceries for now, because they need to be stored. And because she wants to look at his embarrassing kitchen.

But it turns out everything is simple...lovely. Out of use, but lovely.]

Well, damn.

[ He smiles and it's soft and a little sweet, his gaze going over the room itself. It's probably more homely than she expects, fancy but with a countryesque vibe. The counters are dark wood and the soft light makes it nice.

He does have a pasta-maker. And an ice-cream machine. And all the other things a foodie needs. ]

What do you think?

I like it. [Honest to god truth, she does. She might have breathed it out a little there, entranced by the whole scene. With a shake of her her head, she recovers and steps into the kitchen to drop the groceries on the counters.]

But I'll tell you what, it doesn't fit the suit. [She turns to give him a once over.] Or maybe it's the suit that doesn't fit the house.

[ He laughs at the glance she sends over his body, pleased that she can still look at him like that even after everything. ]

I have more homely clothes. But I'm not Superman, I can't just spin around and hope for the best.

[There is one thing that's going to be universal, and that is Skye's irrepressible attraction towards Coulson. Also, you know, she loves him any way he is and stuff?]

No, you're Super Agent. [She grins at her own joke. She could go to the car and get their luggage, and lock the car and stuff, but...it's the middle of nowhere. Who's going to rob them? Who'd dare?

Instead, she walks over and runs her hands up the lapels of his jacket.] Maybe just the jacket and the tie...

[ He watches her with warm eyes as she approaches, his body held still but there's no wariness about it. Instead it's the usual honest acceptance of her in her space, as though she should always be there. ]

Yeah? Maybe you can help me get out of them then. [ Because he's ... different now but he can still work it to his advantage at a time like this. ]

My pleasure, sir. [With a coy little smile and all. Somehow, the tiredness from driving all this time until here is evaporating, and the air turns both solemn and tender. Sweet, gentle. She doesn't take her hands off him, even if it's just to run just her fingertips down to the buttons of his jacket to open it.

Even if it's running her hands lightly up to help him take the sling off first, before pushing them under his jacket and pushing it down his shoulders.]

We better hang this somewhere so it doesn't get wrinkled... [He's likely a stickler for that, after all. She takes a step back, then another, turning to drape the jacket over the back of one kitchen chair.]

[ She's so very careful with him that he's not sure whether he should be touched or worried by it. Skye hadn't had to be the gentle one and now he's half afraid that their relationship will change for it.

It's funny, how after everything, dying, being possessed by alien writing, directing, it's this that stumps him. ]

I think I have a few button downs. If the suits are banned. [ And t-shirts and track pants which will probably be a revelation. ]

Oh yeah, totally banning suits here. [They're going to be Phil and Skye while here, right? Chilling, not getting too heavy-handed with the self-loathing, healing up and hopefully figuring out if the foundation of their relationship has indeed changed.

But it hasn't. Not by the loving way she still looks at him, not by the smile that's her exclusively-for-Coulson smile she gives him. He shouldn't worry, she's not being gentle because she's afraid. She's doing it because she has time to be gentle.]

What's wrong? [Her turn to spot the worry on his face, though.]

[ Not getting too heavy-handed with the self-loathing. He will try to keep that in mind. ]

Nothing. [ Whatever he sees on her face makes his own responding smile something sweet and relieved. ] You just have to decide what foodie appliance you want me to show off first, that's all.

[Okay? But...she's going to keep pushing, digging, until she has him figured out. And then, until she has them figured out. It's how Skye works, and it's how they work; she's never been fine with the precursory 'it's fine' answers from him.

For now, it's pretty clear she gives it a break, and strides back towards him with a sway in her step.]

I don't know, Phil, what toy do you wanna show me first? [Oh. Yeah. Intentional.]

[ His laughter is more genuine, fingertips dancing at her hip as she comes closer. ]

You know if you want me to have sex in the kitchen you're going to have to try a lot harder. I'm very protective of this place. [ She'll probably win him over eventually. But at least he can tease now. ]

[She likes that he laughs, she likes it so much. It makes her warm and pleasantly tingly inside again, and she sways a little closer to play with his tie before taking it off as she'd promised.]

You're implying I only want you for your body? [She glances up at him, coy from under her lashes. Half a smile,] It's true, but...[She stands up on her toes and brushes a soft little kiss just off the corner on his mouth.]

I also like that you feed me. [And because they're not in the role of Agent & Director, but Skye and Phil, she pinches his cheek before taking a few steps back with a skip.]

I'm honestly dying for grilled cheese. Maybe with that secret ingredient you can tell me all about?

[ Sometimes when they're alone he remembers that she can make him feel like this, like death and age has never touched him, that he's never been wounded or hurt. She makes him feel strong and virile and happy. And doesn't he need that feeling right about now? ]

If I tell you about the secret ingredient then you'll end up making your own grilled cheese. Where would I be then? [ He has to hook himself back in the sling and so he does that without asking for help, quickly and efficiently before he goes to unpack the groceries. ]

I'm not shooting myself in the foot like that.

[And in fact, because he's no less the man that he was before and they've already established that the most help he needs is when taking his clothes off -- and not as much, now that a few weeks have passed and motor skills have almost rebooted to a new setting -- she lets him. She hops up on the counter, like the kitchen is already as much hers as everything else of his is.]

It's true, I do just want you for your grilled cheese.

[ He likes seeing her like that. It's a very relaxed pose, like she's not afraid to touch or take up space. It warms him up inside. Because maybe he was worried they'd both feel awkward in a house like this - it's extremely domestic and Phil had brought it when he was more idealistic. He wasn't sure what she'd think.

He wasn't even sure he'd want to be around this place any more.

Some things get held to his chest as he walks to the fridge, fingertips free so he can pry it open and lean in. It's inelegant and disorganised but it's something. Maybe he could get a hostess trolley if he really needed it. ]

Which is why you're not getting the secret ingredient.

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idek how to make grilled cheese??????