User:~Silverstream/Fanfiction Fight Scenes Worth Reciting

This is a scene I felt was missing from A Fractured House, written from Melinda May's POV. And, I wrote this late at night and half-asleep (believe it or not, that's when I write the best) so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors.

Enjoy!

I rolled my eyes as Coulson recalled the fight between me and fake me. He was clearly have a blast, and Skye, Fitz, Simmons, Trip, Mack, and Lance seemed to enjoy it as well. Coulson just finished describing the moment the two mes faced each other.

"And, I just stood there like... I can't believe I'm the only one seeing this right now! I mean, really guys, it was something else."

Skye had bent over laughing, and she looked over at me. "I always wondered who the ultimate opponent for you would be, and I think yourself qualifies!"

I smirked at her. "To be fair, she wasn't much of an opponent. I whipped her ass before too long."

Fitz raised his hand in an attempt to quiet the chatter. "So wait, this woman... Erm, s-she had her face... Like, made to look like yours?"

I cleared my throat before taking a swig of my beer. "It was a mask. Fairly new technology, but it can efficiently make someone look and sound like someone else."

"That's crazy, man," Trip spoke up, a bright grin on his face. "With all this new tech popping up, who knows what'll happen next."

Simmons waved her hand at Trip. "Well you know, Fitz and I have designed a large number of tech ourselves, like the D.W.A.R.F.S.!"

A hearty British voice quipped, "Yeah, you really need to work on the names, sweetheart." Lance smirked from behind his beer, putting his hands up defensively when Simmons have him a look. "Eh, no offense mate."

Coulson chuckled. "Ok guys, can I please get back to the story? Yeah, thanks."

I smiled the internally. Phil has such spunk, such a young spirit in his died-and-ressurected body.

"Alright, so fake May grabbed a pair of steak knives, and of course real May here was like..." He held up his hands and made the same beckoning motion I had made during the fight. "Bring it on woman!"

"I did not say that," I murmured.

I stared at my bottle as I listened to Coulson humorously describe the fight. "They really got it on! I mean, May beat the crap out of fake May, in a very calm and collected matter, as always..." He nudged my shoulder at that part, which I shrugged off. "And finally, May did a MEAN flip over a coffee table... And my God, it was like slow motion, she flipped, and she kicked the woman in the head, knocking her out! I wish you guys could've been there, because this woman right here... was amazing."

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. "Phil..." I muttered.

Skye squealed from her seat. "Oh. My. God. May, are you blushing?!"

I bit the inside of my lip as I felt all eyes turn toward me. I rebuked, my voice stuff. "I don't blush. I bleed internally."

My rebuttal failed in redirecting the team's attention elsewhere, and I was relieved when an idea struck me. I turned to Coulson, my head cocked. "Coulson, you were retrieving the painting toward the end of the fight... How do you know what happened?"

Though he tried to hide it, his face fell slightly, and he stood up abruptly. "I'm terribly sorry to cut this short, but there's something I... have to do."

Oh no. He wasn't getting off that easy. I leapt from my seat and stared incredulously, yelling after him, "PHIL!"