squintwrangler | It's definitely a date

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phil

It's definitely a date

Things were moving slowly with Phil, but tonight was definitely a date. A second date, really, since they'd watched the sunset together after the island had stopped being Vegas. And there had certainly been a little kissing, though not as much as she had learned to expect. He was an old-fashioned kind of guy, though, and it was sort of nice not to jump into bed immediately. Slightly frustrating in a good way, too.

He'd suggested they have some of his fresh-caught fish on the beach sometime and she'd agreed immediately. They'd eventually settled on this particular Sunday night since he didn't have anything to do for his various island responsibilities and neither did she. She'd then been vain enough to attempt to convince the box to give her something that would both look nice and not be tremendously uncomfortable while sitting on sand.

Eventually she'd managed it, although she still wasn't sure about the bow, and she paired the box's suggestion with some sensible but stylish sandals before walking down to the pier. When she arrived, she saw Phil wearing what looked like linen. He seemed to prefer it and she didn't blame him, although she was glad she didn't have to do his ironing. He was tending a little grill and had apparently gone to some trouble to make an appealing little tableaux with blankets, pillows, and a basket of something.

"This looks lovely, Phil," she complimented him warmly.

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"Not half as lovely as you, Cam, that color is spectacular on you." Standing, he brushed the sand off of his legs and offered his hand to his guest in order to lead her to the blanket he'd laid out. The fish was cooking and the vegetables were already done and kept warm near the coals, all he needed to do was crack the wine and set out the vegetables.

"And your timing is impeccable."

She took his hand hopefully gracefully and let him lead her to a spot not too far from the fire but also not too close to it. Before she sat down, though, she leaned in to brush a kiss across his cheek in thanks for the compliment and the work he'd clearly put into this evening.

"Thank you," she replied easily. "You've had success with the box, too, I see. I like that shirt."

"I have my moments." Though few and far between. He didn't want to think about how long he'd spent pawing through the thing on more than one occasion to get something he wouldn't be ashamed to wear in public. "Usually the box thinks I favor gold lame, but I think this was a better choice."

Once she was settled, he went back to the grill and started to pull the food into some serving dishes. "I hope you like fish, I tried to make it interesting."

"Oh, I don't know, I think you could rock a little gold lame," Cam teased gently. Phil would probably make it seem normal and totally unexceptional if he appeared looking like Liberace. He had that kind of demeanor.

"I do like fish, fortunately, and I'm sure I'll like whatever it is. That's partially because I didn't have to cook it, to be fair, though."

"Well, I'm not an expert chef, but I think I've got this island style cuisine down pretty well." With the food in hand, he settled himself on the blanket, being careful to keep any sand off of it. That done, he reached for the wine to pour them each a glass. He was nervous, he hadn't done this since... well, since Sarah and even that had barely had time to become anything. So, if he had to guess, the person he thought about the most right now was Audrey. And those were hard thoughts to have when he was trying to put her behind him.

"I have to say, I love the freshness of the island food. I know it's hard not to be fresh when we have to catch or grow our own food, but I still love it. Did you ever drive up to Baltimore from DC and go to some of the seafood restaurants there? Some of them have the most phenomenally fresh fish," she replied, watching him pour the wine. The island vintages had a lot more taste and a lot less pretension, which was a good combination as far as she was concerned.

"I don't really get much downtime, I'm traveling too much. The job keeps me busy." Especially the last couple of years, until he'd ended up in the island. Coordinating Fury's Avenger program didn't exactly leave a lot of time fore relaxation and when he did have time off, well, it wasn't the east coast he usually visited.

"But there are a few places up in Oregon that I was fond of." Places he wasn't happy to be thinking of these days. Not when he was trying to forget that life. He had a feeling he'd never have it again.

She didn't know exactly what he did or where he was based and that was just fine. From what they'd discussed, it seemed kind of CIA or NSA-ish, and she knew those people often could not tell anyone what they did or who they were. She was pretty sure Phil Coulson was his actual name, though.

"I never spent much time on the West Coast. Conferences, of course, but nothing beyond that. And conferences almost don't count since you spend the whole time in a meeting room or a hotel room or an airport," she mused. "I was an East Coast gal. And now I'm apparently a strange tropical island gal. Although it does have its benefits."

She raised her glass in a subtle toast to her companion for the last sentence.

"That it does." Finally settled with the food spread out in front of them, he took his own glass and raised it to return her salute. There really were benefits to cutting all ties, as hard as it was, and being forced to forge new ones. At least he knew that the day had been saved back home and as for the rest, well, Fury would take care of it, he had faith in his old friend.

"I'm really glad you could join me, Camille, I've needed a night off for awhile an you make a most elegant excuse."

That was just charming, and the best part was it wasn't deliberately charming. She had met plenty of men who had tried to deliberately charm her, which tended to backfire spectacularly for them. New Jersey real estate developers were the worst, but they were shortly followed by most politicians. She normally would have even objected to the Camille since almost no one called her that, but it just fit here.

"Well, I'm glad you invited me, Phil. It's interesting how we end up working even on a tropical island, isn't it?" she mused as she sipped her wine. "I think there's a particular personality type that needs to contribute in some way no matter where they are. And I think it's safe to say we both have that personality type, although I won't psychoanalyze you beyond that. I'm sure you've been through enough routine psych evaluations in your life."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe." Although he was amused to remember that they had yet to create a psych eval that Natasha couldn't flummox. He'd heard some of her examiners had to take vacations of their own after a session with her.

"But I don't mind the work, or the armchair psychology, what else do we have to do? It's that or drink ourselves senseless and do crazy things." To which he took a drink of his wine and smiled.

She probably wouldn't believe, since he did covert-type things and they were justifiably wary about giving guns and a certain amount of carte blanche to people who weren't stable. That had ended badly more than once.

"I'm pretty sure you have a crazy streak in there," she teased him lightly. "I won't ask about any ill-considered teenage tattoos, though. Maybe someday."

And maybe someday she'd see them, but she wasn't going to say that either.

"No tattoos, but there are a few interesting scars around." Tattoos were frowned upon by the SHIELD higher-ups unless it was part of a cover. They tended to stick out and were hard to conceal. But that wasn't really all that important, not tonight.

"So is now where I get to ask you about your wild and crazy youth?"

She had actually had a pretty wild youth, wild enough that when she started thinking about Michelle following in her footsteps it gave her figurative hives. At the same time, she'd been valedictorian of her class, so she wasn't too naughty. And she had never had a significant criminal record or she wouldn't have been able to be a cop and then a government employee.

"Oh, I don't think we really need to go there," Cam chuckled and sipped her wine. "Let's just say it's enough that when my teenage daughter started to rebel, she was pretty frustrated to know that since I had already done most of those things, I was pretty good at catching her at it."

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