Not The Conversation

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So this is a different way that May's love confession could have gone. And thanks to @Feder0 for encouraging me to finish this.

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"Can I talk to you for a second?" Coulson followed May out into the hallway.

"We need to talk about FitzSimmons and Yoyo. If they really believe they can't be killed-" She cut him off.

"That's not the conversation we're having right now."
"Oh. Then what conversation are we having right now?"

"Well the one where you explain all the stupid decisions you've been making recently."

"That's rather specific," he took a step forward.

"Giving yourself up to Hale was a mistake."

"She was about to blow up the Zepher. What did you want me to do?"

"I don't know," May moved closer, "Stall her long enough for me to get to the cockpit. You hold on while I throw the plane into a verticle dive, maybe knock out Creel long-"

"You gonna get to a point?" he cut her off.

"My point is you didn't even try! You just rolled over without a fight! Why Coulson?! What in hell could possibly have been going through your head that could have induced you to do that!!?!" Coulson stared at her.

"May! Going with Hale was the only way that would guarantee your safety!" Let's see her come up with a good response to that.

"What the hell do I have to do with this? You're dying!" He could see the fight going out of her. May's face crumpled and her shoulders slumped. "Phil, you're dying and you're not even trying to make the most out of what time you have left." May didn't care that tears were streaming down her face. She didn't care that Coulson probably didn't share her feelings. He was dying. What did he know? She choked back a sob. And then she was in his arms, crying into his shirt. Coulson couldn't bear to see her in pain. He had to tell her. He gently rubbed her back with his palm. Her brown eyes lifted up to meet his blue ones and he wondered, not for the first time, how anyone this perfect could be tolerate spending so much time with a man like him.

"I...you..." he stuttered. May raised her eyebrows. God she was gorgeous.

"Sometimes I look at you and I wonder how I got to be so damn lucky," he blurted. She stared. "You've put up with me, every single day for the last thirty years. You've put up with my constant asking for advice, with my bad puns and me doing stupid, stupid things, and throughout it all, not once have you asked for anything in return. I love you so damn much"

"You love me?" May spluttered. She rested her hands on his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. "Phil, all of those things I wanted to do. It wasn't the chore that you're making it out to be. I love it when you come to me with your problems and I laugh at your jokes. All I want is to be near you. Phil when you died, the first time, after New York, I lost it. I came so close to the edge. I couldn't handle it and I won't be able to handle it if you die now. Phil, I love you. And if you think for even a minute, that I'm letting you leave me, then you're wrong." A slow smile spread across Coulson's face. His smile became a grin. He opened his mouth to speak but Melinda cut him off, pressing her lips to his. He reciprocated eagerly and for a moment everything was perfect. But there was still something he had to say. He pulled away gently.

"What is it?" May asked, her brow furrowing.

"Marry me?"

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