Ribbons: For Philinda 24 Kisses (old)

Melinda May was kneeling by her Christmas tree, struggling with a sparkly red ribbon.

Phil Coulson knocked then stuck his head in the front door, “Hey, can I come in?”

“Depends,” May was focused on tying the goofy decoration, “you bring what you promised?”

Phil laughed as he walked in with something wrapped in napkins sitting on a plate, “come on, you know mom always makes too many.”

Melinda reached out but Phil pulled the plate away, “your mom will kill you if you get sugar and oil on those decorations.”

May made a face then returned to her torture.

“What are you doing, anyway?” Phil set the plate on the coffee table then was good and hung up his coat, he'd taken his boots off when he walked in the door.

“Mom and I got into it about the tree again,” Melinda tied the bow on the branch of the fake pine tree then untied it because it was lopsided, “she wanted simple and I wanted black widow so she said I could put whatever I wanted up if I took the time to make all the bows since she's been so busy with work.”

“What'd your dad say?” Phil asked kneeling next to Melinda on the hardwood floor, “oh yuck, all the lights are white this year?  Where'd the colored ones go?”

“Mom let me take them since again, she wants simple and elegant,” Melinda smoothed the sparkly satin then attempted to tie it straight this time, “I think she's hosting the Christmas party this year.  As for Dad, the tree was always Mom's department so he stayed out of it.”

“Oh,” Phil looked at the different rolls of fabric on the floor, noticing some had wires to help shape them, “how much more do you need to do?”

Melinda checked her piece of paper, “um, four more red after this then the last few green, I started at the top so I wasn't having to climb the step ladder after I was folding forever.”

“Makes sense,” Phil nodded, “though you could have called me, I'm taller.”

“Yes,” Melinda smiled triumphantly as she finally got the bow to sit right, “but I knew you were busy making nummy things like those donuts with your family.”

“You're family too you know,” Phil poked her arm, “why do you think mom makes enough extra of half the things we cook at times like these so I can bring them to you.”

Melinda looked down at the piles of ribbons to hide she might have just blushed a little at that.  

“Speaking of which,” Phil slid the plate closer and uncovered the still a little warm, donuts that had been freshly fried and rolled in sugar, “you want a bite?”

“You said I'd make a mess,” Melinda turned her head.

Phil tore off a piece and held it out, “here, no hands, it'll be fine.”

Melinda grinned then leaned forward, opening her mouth as Phil placed the heavenly sweet into her mouth. She closed her eyes, making these little happy sounds.

Suddenly she felt Phil's lips on hers. She opened her eyes in surprise as he pulled back.

“Sorry, there was um, sugar,” Phil looked down shyly and wiped his fingers on the napkins.

“How, you put the bite in my mouth?” Melinda smirked.

“Oh well, um, just checking,” Phil's smile made his eyes light up brighter than the tree.

“Well,” Melinda faced him better, “maybe you should check again before I finish, don't want to get sugar everywhere, right?”

“Right!” Phil leaned forward, Melinda meeting him half-way.  They kissed gently, eyes closed, and the chore, for the moment, forgotten.