agent_coulson | After-action report

Phil laid out on his bed, looking--he hated to think it, but it was true--a little pathetic. One of his toes was in a splint from when he'd flown backwards and hit a fire hydrant with his foot, there was an ice pack on his knee, where he'd been slammed by the guy's metal armor, there was a bandage wound around one forearm that concealed a long, deep gash (he wasn't even entirely sure when he'd gotten that, he hadn't noticed it until the fighting was over), and the rest of his body was covered in bumps and bruises. A scrape on his left cheek gave him a rough-and-tumble kind of look, but it conflicted with the rest of him, which looked more tough meat than tough guy.

The only upside was that he'd officially been given the rest of the day off, and SHIELD Medical had given him a few Vicodins, one of which he'd popped when he got home. Now at least he wasn't in much pain, and he felt a bit floaty, which was pleasant. He closed his eyes and tried to just be glad they'd gotten the guy. Stark had gotten to the scene a little late--Phil shouldn't really have been taking this one on alone, and he knew it, but he'd had to keep him occupied somehow--but he'd gotten there eventually, and that was the important thing.

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"Yes, ma'am." He grinned and settled back against the couch cushion. "I did already say I was incredibly lucky, didn't I?" He spoke up, calling out the question to her as she went into the kitchen.

"Lucky you didn't get hurt worse than you are?" Grabbing the milk from the fridge, she brought the donuts out as well, figuring he might have an urge for something to go along with his oh-so-juvenile treat.

He shook his head as she came back into sight, moving his legs so she could sit next to him. "Lucky you're here. Not many people would be willing to make a sugar run for me and then spend the rest of the night listening to what prescription painkillers do to an otherwise sane mind."

She laughed at that, settling down slowly beside him so she didn't jar anything that might be sore, then pulled his legs back up to rest on her lap. "Your foot needs elevating. Let me be your pillow."

Handing him the milk, she opened the donuts and held the package out to him, smiling as she waggled them in a teasing manner. "I think I'd quite like to hear you go off on some little tangent. Then I can bring it up later and watch you blush, which is just such a charming sight."

He accepted the milk and doughnuts with pleasure, anticipation making his stomach growl. "Impossible. I don't have tangents. And I don't blush. You must be mistaken about both of those things."

He took a sip of chocolate milk, swallowed, and let out a small sigh of satisfaction. His foot felt better just being in her lap, and he wasn't sure he'd ever tasted anything better than this. He thought it was a shame he didn't have evenings like this more often, actually. He opened his mouth to say that, but instead what came out was, "You should come over here more often." It... wasn't quite the same meaning, but it wasn't untrue either. He took another drink of his milk.

Her hands idly ran over his legs, massaging the calves gently and skipping over his poor knee. "See, when you say things like that, you make me want to prove you wrong. I think I'm going to have to do something extreme, just to get you to blush, now."

That small sigh made coming over here worth it; made the worry of the day slip away as she watched him enjoy the simple pleasure of some chocolate milk. A small thing, really, but she appreciated it. And then...

Smiling, she looked at him with a teasing grin. "Careful, I might start to think this is more than just 'sex with no strings', Phil."

He was quiet a moment, then shrugged. "Well, we're not having sex right now. What would you call this?" He honestly didn't know himself, he didn't have a frame of reference for what the term was when your sex buddy started taking care of you when you were sick and bringing you junk food just because you were the slightest bit stoned on Vicodin. There probably was one, but he didn't travel in the right circles to know it.

"Severe concern over the health and well-being of said sex buddy. Though, it is nice just to be here, and I'd be lying if I said otherwise." And it was. She genuinely liked spending time with him. It was a bit of a surprise to find out he had a sense of humor, and she found more than one laugh pulled out of her in his company.

Damned if she knew what they'd call it, but maybe it didn't need proper classification at the moment.

He nodded. This was enough, especially in his current mental state. Even if Carol had come up with the perfect descriptor, there was no guarantee it would travel through his mind in one piece. "It's nice to have you here." He smiled and pulled out a doughnut, biting into it. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as a small cloud of powdered sugar puffed out around it and fluttered down to the couch. "Oh god, it's amazing having you here."

She chuckled at the expression, and the small cloud of white that littered over him. "Is it bad that I don't know if you're talking to me or the doughnut?"

He opened his eyes and chewed carefully before replying. "I think, at this moment, I might be talking to both of you."

A louder laugh, accompanied by her hand reaching out and catching a bit of the powder lacing his lips. Bringing it to her own, she sighed. "You know, I should be offended by that, but I'm totally not."

After-action report

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