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A rainstorm purifies

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May was awake immediately. She sat upright in her bunk not quite certain as to what had woken her but it was enough that it had. She slipped out of bed silently and opened the door listening carefully. She could hear the rain; it hadn’t let up for hours but somehow the sound didn’t seem right, too loud, and there was a chill about her legs. She cracked open the cabin door and checked the instruments noticing immediately that the ramp was down. Who the hell would do that in this weather? Phil!

Steadily and still silent she moved through the Bus scooping up an armful of towels from the laundry area and made her way down the spiral staircase to the cargo bay. The wind was howling round the ramp blowing the rain back in. She laid the towels on top of the SUV knowing Phil would pitch a fit if she put them on Lola; it almost made her smile but she was too concerned to acknowledge the humour in the thought.

The rain was coming down in sheets but there he was, just standing in the rain barely noticing the water as it soaked through his t-shirt and sleep pants making them cling to his body. His hair was flattened against his head and the drops ran down his the contours of his face before falling from his nose and chin joining the puddles surrounding his bare feet.

Seeing Phil like this, Melinda was suddenly terrified. She was uncertain how to continue but she knew she couldn’t leave him there, alone. Slowly she walked down the tailgate towards him, becoming drenched herself. Undeterred she reached her commanding officer, her friend, the normally calm unruffled agent who was always in control, always self-confident and stood a few steps behind him afraid to get too close, afraid to touch him.

“Phil?” Melinda’s voice was quiet and gentle even though her heart was pounding in her chest. Phil didn’t move, didn’t even seem to register her presence. She stepped closer and said his name, louder this time; still there was nothing. The fear was building inside her. She was so scared that Phil was finally gone; that his mind could no longer cope with everything it had been through. She reached out and touched her fingers to his arm. It was ice cold. God, how long had he been out here? With a heavy heart she noted that the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent still hadn’t moved.

She closed the gap until there was nothing left between them and her chest, with her own tank top soaked and clinging to her was pressed against Phil’s back. Carefully she wrapped her right arm round his waist and her left across his chest gently holding him leaning her cheek against his back. He didn’t resist, didn’t pull way; just remained there unblinking, immobile. Melinda’s heart clenched.

“Talk to me, Phil.” She tried to make her voice sound calm, even though she was panicking inside. For an eternity there was nothing but the sound of the rain splashing against the ground. Then Phil began to speak softly, his voice fighting to be heard against the downpour.

“My father used to tell me that a rainstorm purifies, everything bad is washed away.” He looked down at his trembling hands sadly. “It’s not true though. My hands will always be covered in blood. I’ve killed too many times; I’ve lost too many people. Some nights I hear them screaming in my head. Tonight their families were staring at me by the graveside, telling me it was my fault; there must have been something more I could have done to keep them safe.” His voice was broken.

Melinda shut her eyes tightly tears leaking from the corners mixing with the rain. She tightened her grip around her CO. This was wrong, so very wrong. It should be Phil holding her. Phil was the strong one, the composed one, the one who made everything better. Not her, not Melinda, cold and unfeeling and made of ice. But he made her feel again. He stirred up emotions in her that no-one else could and it was destroying her to see him like this.

She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay; to insist he’d done nothing wrong. He’d only killed in the line of duty or to protect the innocent. For every agent he lost, he’d saved a hundred more. But they were all platitudes and Phil did not need trite statements right now. So she held him. She kept her arms round him until slowly she felt Phil’s body begin to shiver, his hand reaching up to Melinda’s forearm holding it tight almost bruising her skin.

“Come with me,” she said tugging him gently. “Come back inside with me.”

Phil allowed himself to be led back onto the Bus. Melinda stopped him just inside the ramp and slammed the button to close it. She led him to the Lexus and collected the towels. She looked at Phil’s face and decided he was still too far gone to help himself right now so she took over like he would have done if the roles had been reversed.

“I’m going to get you out of these wet things, alright?”

Phil looked at her blankly then nodded still shivering. Melinda took the bottom of the t-shirt in her fingers and carefully peeled it from Phil’s skin. The material was soaked through making it an arduous task but between the two of them they managed to remove it from his body. She threw it behind them on the floor where it landed with a wet splat.

She picked up a towel and carefully began to dry Phil’s hair and face, moving slowly down his neck and shoulders to his chest and stomach. She dried his arms then raised them above his head and towel dried his sides before pushing his arms back down again. She turned the compliant agent round and rubbed the towel over his shoulders and back making sure everything was dry. Although she was being gentle, Melinda applied enough force to begin to warm Phil’s skin because, Christ, he was freezing.

And now the sleep pants. Melinda closed her eyes not caring to think of the number of times this particular fantasy had played out in her head. Not the time, not the place. But even though she heard herself say it in her head, she could feel herself getting wet between her legs. She shook her head and ignored the heat that was building focussing on the task instead. How was she going to do this? She moved behind Phil (better a face of ass than cock at this juncture) and leaning against him, unfastened the string pulling the wet fabric over his waist and hips, down this thighs, knees and calves to his ankles where she helped Phil step out of them. She paused with the towel in her hands not quite sure how to begin – where to begin even.

“Let me,” whispered Phil taking it from her. Satisfied he’d been able to make the choice voluntarily, Melinda pulled off her own wet clothes, dropping them beside Phil’s and dried herself off as he did the same. Dammit! She hadn’t brought a change of clothes! Seriously! She wrapped the towel round her torso and took the damp one from Phil dropping it on top of the wet clothing. She picked up another one from the pile and made as though to wrap one round his waist.

“I can do it,” and Phil he took the dry towel from her completing the task with shaking hands. Slowly he was coming back.

“I’m sorry…”

“NO!” Melinda snapped, harsher than she’d intended making Phil flinch. In a softer voice she continued. “You never need to apologise to me. You’ve always been there for me. You’ve never let me down. I told you I’d always have your back and I meant it. Always, Phil.”

She moved towards him and cupped the back of his head pulling him towards her resting her forehead against his, her hand holding him in place, grounding him. Phil wrapped his arms round her keeping her tight against him as though too afraid to let her go. And he was.

He was so cold. His lips had a tinge of blue and he was still shivering. If he didn’t become ill with this he’d be damn lucky. She wasn’t particularly warm herself but compared to him Melinda was like a furnace. She wrapped her arms round him and held him close rubbing heat back into his body.

“You’re freezing,” she admonished looking up at him.

His response was another series of shivers and a small sad smile as he fixed his eyes on hers. Feeling herself begin to respond to his gaze in an entirely unprofessional manner she looked away and pressed her cheek to the scar on his chest. It wasn’t helping much but at least she wasn’t looking into those blue eyes now; those blue eyes that could convince her to do anything.

His hands were on her back, his thumb tracing an arc into the skin just above the towel line. She could feel her face flush at his touch.

“Phil,” she whispered.

He laid his cheek on top of her head, his thumb continuing its movement like a metronome, his pace steady and insistent making the heat spread throughout her body.

“Phil,” she said again even softer than before and looked up at him again. After a moment’s pause he lowered his head covering her mouth with his. This kiss was gentle but it sent a shiver of pleasure through her. She tried not to kiss him back but it was impossible, she wanted this every bit as much as he as the wetness between her legs could testify.

They broke away, not ending it completely, but to take stock of where they were. Their pupils had dilated and both of them were flushed with arousal. He brushed his hand against her cheek his thumb repeating the movement across her cheekbone as it had between her shoulder blades. She pressed her hands into his lower back kneading the muscles with her fingers. They were on the same page.

Finally she pulled away from him dropping her hand to his. She turned and without letting go she led him to the staircase and they climbed to the catwalk into the body of the Bus. It was too long for them to be apart and he stopped pulling her to him leaning down to kiss her again. She responded with an enthusiasm to rival his and probably that of a horny teenager almost losing her towel in the ensuing grappling.

“Jeezus Phil!”

He looked at her with an apologetic expression but the gleam in his eyes told her he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. Just then there was a glimmer of her old friend brimming with quiet confidence and mischief. Whatever had caused the nightmare, he was resurfacing. And she was relieved.

Once again she took his hand and with a determined stride led him to the next staircase. Without slowing she pulled him up the stairs to his office and when they were inside and the door was finally shut she allowed him to pull her towards him once more. Now there was no disguising their eagerness. The fire that had been building between them suddenly raged, fuelled by a desire long since held but never realised. Their lips came together in a devouring kiss. She pushed her way into his mouth, her tongue seeking his and upon finding it sending sparks through them both. He groaned. His fingers slid through her damp hair before cupping her head with his hand.

She wasn’t quite so subtle dropping hers to the solid line of his cock she could feel pressing against her through the towels. He groaned again as she slid her hand up and down his length.

“Melinda.” Her name on his lips was beautiful and she squeezed him gently drawing a sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp from him.

Meanwhile he wasn’t being particularly idle with his own hands which now rested on her buttocks. It was her turn to moan into his mouth as he massaged them gently but firmly causing another wave of wetness between her legs.

She removed her hand from his cock grasping the towel instead and in one swift movement pulled it from his waist. Now there was nothing between her hand and his soft skin. He shivered but this time it had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with her touch.

“Melinda,” he breathed, his voice raw and broken. His breath hitched as she continued to stroke him sliding her hand from root to tip. Instinctively she knew how to pleasure him, she’d thought about it often enough. As she caressed him she was torn between dropping to her knees, taking him in her mouth until he came calling her name and having him deep inside her with the same conclusion.

In the end he made the decision for her pulling away and lifting her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed to lay her gently down. He climbed on beside her, carefully stripping away the towel dipping his head to her breasts teasing her with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth causing her to writhe beneath him. And when he pushed inside her with a tenderness that made her want to weep, she held him close moving in time with him finding a rhythm that was almost perfect.

His thrusts were slow and deep and her hips rose up to meet his in a coming together that was gentle but insistent. Just when she though it couldn’t get anymore intense, he moved position lifting her leg higher onto his hip changing the angle so that when he entered her he hit her g-spot forcing her head back into the pillows. When she climaxed it was explosive; back arched, eyes shut tight, mouth open in a silent scream. Phil had never seen her more beautiful and within a few more thrusts he came emptying inside her his body shuddering with aftershocks. When he finally stopped trembling he began to move away but Melinda held him tighter pulling him down on top of her something she was never comfortable with but with Phil it felt right, she felt complete. He buried his face into her neck and hair breathing in the scent of her; it made him feel safe and calm something he hadn’t experienced in long time. Maybe it was true, maybe a rainstorm did purify. Or maybe he was just home, with Melinda, where he belonged.