Same time tomorrow?
"Same time tomorrow?" Daisy asks Phil, and he gives her a look, which makes her smirk. "What, Phil, have you decided that you're not interested in sparring with me after all?" She chuckles, shakes her head, then offers him her hand, easily bringing him back up to his feet.
"Yes, okay, same time tomorrow," he agrees in a really long-suffering tone that simply makes her snicker.
"Aw, Phil. Are you regretting your taunts about things going differently now?" she teases.
"I think you're enjoying this to an excessive degree," he grumbles.
She grins, then slings her arm around his shoulders. "Tell you what, let's grab a shower, then we'll slip out and grab breakfast – my shout."
"Pancakes?" he asks hopefully, and she laughs, then reaches over with her free hand and lightly slaps his belly.
"Are you sure you should be eating pancakes, Agent Coulson?"
"Oi!" he says indignantly.
Daisy laughs again, and he turns to her and hugs her, ignoring the fact that they're both sweaty from working out together.
"It's so good to hear you laugh," he says softly.
"It's good to laugh," she tells him. "I'll stop teasing you, though, if you want."
"No," he says firmly. "Don't stop on my account."
"Okay." She gives him a squeeze, then pulls away. "Much as I'm appreciating the hug, we're both a bit gross, so shower?"
"And breakfast," he agrees.
"See you in the hangar in 30?"
"Definitely."
DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ
A little over half an hour later they're riding Daisy's motorbike downtown to a diner that she swears has the best pancakes in the state. Phil's riding behind her, his arms wrapped firmly around her middle, and she wonders if it wouldn't have been better if they'd taken Lola instead, because she is definitely a bit turned on right now – she was anyway, because sparring with Phil Coulson is definitely sexy, and if they were in that kind of relationship, she'd probably class it as foreplay. But they're not, so she doesn't, but it pretty much is foreplay, and she thinks that having a powerful motorbike between her legs isn't the smartest move she could've made this morning.
Too late now, she thinks wryly, and speeds up a little as she heads down the highway. She can't help thinking about how nice this is – just her and Phil sneaking out for breakfast together. Everything's been a bit of a mess since they got out of the Framework – May's on indefinite medical leave, and Mace is still recovering from the injuries he took from Ivanov's thugs before he was shoved into the Framework. Mack and Jemma are both suffering in various ways emotionally from their actions. (Fitz didn't survive.) To be honest, she and Phil seem the least affected – although she knows that they're not unaffected by events, either of them. Her body might've been virtual in the Framework, but she'd still suffered from the beating the HYDRA thugs had given her when May caught up with her as she was trying to get out of the Triskelion to join Phil and Jemma, and the Resistance. And Phil's had his head messed with yet again, which makes her really mad. She's glad they were able to stop AIDA, and to destroy the Framework, but she can't help wondering if any of them will ever be the same again.
Reaching the diner, she decides not to brood on that – right now she just wants to enjoy breakfast with Phil.
Because it's so early, there aren't too many people in the diner, so they find themselves a quiet corner booth near the window, and slip onto the benches opposite each other. A waitress comes over promptly, and they both order a large coffee, and Phil orders a stack of pancakes, then Daisy orders fruit juice and pancakes, but also scrambled eggs on toast with bacon, and a bowl of oatmeal with fruit.
"You want it all at once?" asks Rosie.
"Pancakes, juice, and coffee first, please," she tells her. "Then the oatmeal, then the eggs and bacon."
Rosie makes some notes on her pad, then looks Daisy up and down. "I don't know where you're gonna put it all, girl, but you enjoy now."
Phil chuckles as the waitress walks away, and Daisy raises her eyebrows. "What?"
"Well, she kinda has a point – with a breakfast like that, you ought not to be as svelte as you are. You're lucky your Inhuman biology lets you eat like that."
She snorts. "It's because of my Inhuman biology that I have to eat like that," she reminds him.
He looks chastened, and is clearly opening his mouth to apologise when Rosie returns with their coffees and Daisy's glass of fruit juice. She sets the drinks down, then tells them it'll be another few minutes until their pancakes are ready.
"Daisy – " Phil begins when Rosie's gone.
"It's okay, Phil," she says immediately. "Honestly. I don't mind. I wasn't having a go at you."
"I know," he says softly, "but it was still insensitive of me." He reaches across the table and touches the back of her hand as she grasps her glass of juice. "I don't want to be that guy."
"You're not," she says firmly, and turns her wrist so she can clasp his hand. "You're quite literally the nicest guy I know, but not in a 'nice guy' way, and you're way more sensitive than I think most people realise, so give yourself a pass this time."
He shakes his head. "Sometimes I could wish you were a little less forgiving," he says, his face as soft as his voice now. Daisy's about to say something, but then he lifts her hand and leans forward to press a kiss to her knuckles.
Before she can ask him 'What the hell, Phil?', because really, Phil, what the hell? Rosie returns with their pancakes and various toppings, which she proceeds to spread across their table. Daisy decides that here and now may not be the best place or time to discuss what the hell Phil thinks he's doing, so she attacks her pancakes with gusto.
They only talk a little while they eat, and when they finally leave the diner, Daisy's feeling nicely relaxed.
"Hey, you wanna drive on the way back?" she asks.
Phil looks startled, as well he might. She's not quite so adamant about people not touching her bike as he is about Lola, but she doesn't usually let others ride it. "You sure?" he asks doubtfully.
"One time only offer," she tells him, slipping the keys from her jeans pocket and dangling them in front of him.
"I'd be honoured," he says, so solemnly that she almost laughs. He takes the keys from her, and they pull on their helmets, then climb onto the bike, and head back to the Playground. Daisy's got her arms wrapped around Phil, and she finds herself focusing on his vibrations – she's got pretty good at reading people's moods and emotions via their vibrations – and Phil's currently radiating contentment, but there's something else there too, something she can't identify because it's not something she's ever sensed from him before. She can't help wondering if it's got anything to do with him kissing her knuckles earlier, and she decides that they need to talk before they go back to the Playground and get plunged into work.
She taps the back of his hand, and he slows the bike a bit. "Daisy?" he shouts above the building traffic noise.
"Take a left here," she shouts back, and is relieved that he doesn't ask her why, he just turns left at the next intersection, and continues to follow her directions south-east, over the 11th Street Bridge, until they reach Cedar Hill in Anacostia – home to Frederick Douglass. He pulls up in the parking lot, and pulls off his helmet, and Daisy does the same.
"Daisy?"
"I need to talk to you, Phil," she says. "And I want to do that without the risk of being interrupted by other agents. Don't worry, we won't be long. I just wanted a bit of peace and quiet for this conversation."
"Okay," he says easily, and she thinks, yet again, about how much he trusts her, and how much it's always meant to her that he does trust her so much, and so easily. They leave their helmets with the bike, pay the fee, then Daisy leads the way through the grounds until they find a bench where they can sit and talk in privacy.
"What's up?" he asks softly once they're settled.
"I could ask you that," she answers.
To her surprise he blushes. "I – " He swallows, the sound seeming loud in the silence.
"Phil?" she says softly, and wraps her hand over his left wrist as he seems to struggle with what he wants to say.
"I wasn't going to say anything," he says. "I mean, I've thought about it often, over the years, but I always told myself it wouldn't be fair to you – that you deserve someone better, someone younger, but then you had someone younger and – I'm sorry to say this – but he didn't treat you very well. And – "
"Phil." Daisy cuts him off. "You're babbling. Are you saying what I think you're trying to say?"
He swallows again, then turns towards her more fully. "I love you, Daisy Johnson," he says in a very low voice, both her hands in his, although she didn't notice him taking hold of them. "I've loved you for a very long time – I think we both know that – but – well, I'd like something more than your friendship, if you're willing to share more with me. And I know I'm old and damaged, and – Mmphf."
He's definitely babbling, and deciding that actions speak far louder than words, Daisy cuts him off with a kiss. He lets go of her hands to hold her shoulders, kissing her back as eagerly as she's kissing him, and after a few minutes she breaks the kiss just long enough to climb onto his lap.
"Daisy," he breathes.
"Phil," she whispers back. "I never thought you'd want this. I mean, I knew you loved me – I think everyone's known that for ages, Phil." She smirks at him as he blushes again. "But I didn't think that meant kissing and stuff. I just thought it meant you always having my back, or fighting my corner, or encouraging me to exceed my potential. All of which are great, by the way."
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her torso. "So you're okay with us having the 'kissing and stuff'?" he asks, his tone a little teasing.
"Hey, who just kissed whom?"
"Fair point," he agrees.
She realises as she resumes kissing him, that the unfamiliar thing she'd felt in his vibrations earlier is what she'd believed – desire – and it sort of blows her away that a man like Phil Coulson could desire a girl like her, but she's not going to pretend it's not what she's wanted for ages.
He sneaks his right hand under her tank and slides his fingertips up her spine, and she arches her spine, pushing her breasts towards him. She's aware that her nipples have grown hard, and that she's growing wet, and she wonders if they dare have sex here.
Regretfully she decides it's too risky – she can just imagine the headlines if 'Quake' is caught mid-fuck in a public park with the former Director of SHIELD. They don't need that kind of hassle, so she refrains from grinding shamelessly against his growing erection, and reluctantly pulls her mouth from his.
"Nice as this is – and it's very, very nice – can we find somewhere with a bed?" she asks.
"That's an excellent plan, Agent," he says smirking.
"I'm glad you think so Agent," she says, and smirks back, then climbs off his lap. She holds out her hand, and they make their way back to the parking lot.
Today's the best day ever.