Title: Mistletoes - Tis’ The Season
Author: The Artful Dodger / dodger_sister
Fandom: Agents Of Shield
Category: Fluff, Humor, Holiday
Characters/Pairing: Coulson/Melinda May, Trip, Jemma & Co.
Warnings: Drunken coworkers.
Summary: Shield was having a Christmas party. Someone brought a mistletoe.
Word Count: 940 words.
Date Written: 12/04/14
Disclaimer: Agents Of Shield is not mine. I wrote this fic, just for fun. It’s the holidays, don’t sue!
Feedback: Bring it. dodger_sister / TheArtofDodger@comcast.net
Author's Notes: Part of my Mistletoes ‘verse, all written as holiday gifts for my Flisties. Except this one was written for me, as I wanted a Coulson/May fic in this series. This is the first one I actually wrote for the whole series and yeah, I couldn’t resist a little Coulson/Trip too!
Dedication: For myself! My own prompt to my challenge - I wanted Coulson/May! Merry Christmas, Me!
Shield was having a Christmas party. At least, those that lived in The Playground were.
“It’s Christmas!” Jemma had argued.
“Get some normalcy in our lives,” Skye had joined in.
“Eggnog,” Mac had added.
In the end, Melinda wasn’t even a little bit surprised when Coulson gave in to their demands. He even changed out of his standard tie for a more festive candy cane striped one, still with the same old suit though.
Jemma had strung LED lights everywhere and Skye had printed out a ‘Happy Holidays’ banner and Trip had made a rather impressive pin-the-nose-on-the-Rudolph game, which a group of the techie underlings got right to playing, drunk off their asses as they were. Billy had made the eggnog and it had ended up less egg and more nog, but it was still pretty tasty.
Coulson had already had one glass of eggnog and was working on his second, while Melinda was exercising caution and staying rather close to his side.
“I’m not going to alien-language out all over the place just because I’ve had a few to drink,” Coulson told her.
“Maybe I just like your company, sir,” Melinda said and Coulson snorted into his glass. He didn’t even have to look over to know that one corner of her mouth was turned upwards.
“Oh hell no,” Melinda muttered under her breath then and Coulson followed her eyeline to where Hunter was laying a rather impressive kiss on Simmons. She was dressed in a Christmas elf costume and he was wearing a ridiculous headband with a mistletoe hanging from it and he’d somehow managed to slide his arms around her waist without jingling a single one of the bells attached to her belt.
“Hmmm, not a thing though,” Coulson said.
“How do you figure?” Melinda asked him, with actually very little interest attached to the question.
“He’s not stupid enough to do that seriously in front of Bobbi and expect to live,” Coulson told her. “Plus, mistletoe,” he said and pointed at the ridiculous thing hanging almost completely in Hunter’s eyes, with the way he was tipping his head down towards Simmons and all.
“Too bad. Bobbi and Hunter laying out could have been fun. An assassin fight would’ve really livened this party up.”
“Yeah,” Coulson quipped, “Nothing says Christmas like a fist fight.”
“Exactly,” Melinda agreed and Coulson turned to look at her.
“Clearly our family gatherings were very different,” he said.
He would have prodded her a bit more - mostly because it was fun - but a slightly inebriated Jemma Simmons came stumbling over to them then, wearing that absurd mistletoe headpiece that Hunter had been sporting a moment before.
“Boss,” she said and saluted him with her cup. “You’re my bossy boss. But you’re a nice bossy boss.”
“I’ve always wondered what you’d be like drunk,” Coulson said to her, but he was all smiles. It was nice to see his people happy, even if they were mostly only getting there through alcoholic means.
“We’re on the verge of an extinction level event, but no, sir, this was a great idea,” Melinda said from next to him.
“You are a Scrooge,” Jemma declared and took a step towards her. “I have got just the solution to that,” and she leaned up on her tiptoes, like she meant to go in for a little Christmas cheer.
Maybe it was the look on Melinda’s face that turned her off it or maybe it was just that she lost her balance, but in the end Jemma swiveled around and half fell into Coulson, leaning up to plant a light, quick kiss on his lips.
“My bossy boss,” she sighed and then slid the headband off her own head and planted it on Coulson’s. “Pass it on,” she said and sauntered off, little golden bells on her belt jingling as she went.
“How do I look?” Coulson asked and turned to grin at Melinda.
“Ready to save the world, sir,” Melinda told him.
“You are a Scrooge,” Coulson said and stuck his tongue out at his agent.
That one corner of Melinda’s mouth turned upwards then and before Coulson knew what was happening, she had grabbed ahold of him by his candy cane striped tie and yanked him to her.
Her lips were soft and warm and they moved with fluid motion, much like Melinda herself. When he opened for her - more on instinct than anything - Melinda slid her tongue inside, for the briefest of moments, just long enough for Coulson to reach his one free hand out and settle it on her hip.
Then she pulled away, straightened his tie and turned her attention towards the party again.
“Well, that was…” Coulson said and then faltered out.
Next to him, Melinda just reached over and took his half empty cup of eggnog from his hand, swallowing the rest of it down in one go. “Merry Christmas, Phil,” she said, without looking over.
“Merry Christmas, Melinda,” he answered. “Merry Christmas.”
Then he grabbed the first person to pass by him - Agent Trip, as it was - and planted a quick - though not that quick - kiss to the man’s lips.
“Uh, thanks, sir,” Trip said.
Coulson put the ridiculous mistletoe onto Trip’s head and said, “Pass it on.”
“Oh man, this party is the best,” Trip replied and then headed in the direction of the inebriated geek squad, where Jemma was attempting to rouse everyone in a drunken version of “Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire”.
Coulson wiped at his lips and said, “Merry Christmas, indeed,” and next to him, Melinda May actually laughed.