Chapter Text
With a whoosh and a flip of his stomach, Fitz knows he's awake. Sharp wails fill his ears, and he knows with certainty that there's no return to the unfit sleep he had just managed to drift into. Opening one eye, he covers his face with his hands, rubbing away the sleep. He turns his head to the lump of pillows next to him hopefully.
"It's your turn," her voice croaks sleepily without any hint of movement.
With a long yawn he sits up, and then throws himself over to her side of the bed. She squirms as his weight flops against her. "Fitz..."
"'m getting up," he mumbles, lifting one knee lazily over her legs so that he's straddling her over the comforter. He doesn't have to look to know that irritation dances across her face. She rolls her body over so that she's looking up at him, causing him to lose his balance as he tries to shift over her to the other side of the bed. With feigned exhaustion, he flops the rest of his weight down, trapping her beneath him, limbs sprawled. He nestles his face into the pillow just above her shoulder and releases an exaggerated a snore.
"You ass!" Jemma groans, jabbing her fingers into his sides. He snorts and squirms in protest, but she's relentless. "Get off me you big oaf," she hisses, trying to keep her face straight so she can go back to sleep.
"Calm down, calm down. Hands off me, woman!" He grins. Finally managing to capture her wrists, he pulls them up away from his sides, pinning her arms to the pillows next to her face. He lifts himself up so he's balanced on his knees looking down at her with a twinkle in his eye. Her expression makes him laugh cheekily, and he leans down to plant big extra-wet kisses all over her face.
"Mm!" She squinches her face in protest against his sloppy kisses, trying to angle away. When she can't suppress her laughter anymore, she gives in and lets him slobber over her cheeks and chin. Just when he thinks he's won their little battle, though, she grins and rubs her wet face against his, then gives him a quick peck on the lips. "It's been a while since you were this awake first thing in the morning," she laughs at his disgruntled, damp expression.
"Has it?" He considers, wiping his face dry. "Now that just doesn't sound right..." he leans down and kisses her again, properly this time. She sighs happily against his lips, then deepens the moment. He trails his hands down her wrists and along her sides, brushing soft kisses down the side of her neck.
The whine from down the hall starts up again, and they both stop. He drops his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. "And that would be my cue." He kisses the tip of her nose and pushes himself up and off of her. "Duty calls."
She props herself up on one elbow and watches him as he stretches. Before turning away, he catches her eye with a sly wink. Instead of the happy smile he's expecting in return, though, her face freezes in sudden confusion and alarm.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just..." she shakes her head. "Just an odd sense of déjà vu I guess."
He shrugs and kisses her cheek. "You're just remembering all the other mornings we were interrupted," he says, finally standing. Not bothering to put his slippers on, he stumbles sleepily down the hall, thinking of the hot tea waiting to be brewed downstairs in just a few minutes' time.
"Fitz!" she calls down the hallway, "did you remember to-?"
"Ye-es," he calls over his shoulder, opening the door and tripping over the pieces he hadn't put away from the night before. He curses under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing!" He shoots back. The bloody monstrosity lay across the floor like a death wish. All pink and purple and bits of glitter taunting him. He glares, removing a sharp piece of plastic from between his toes and rubbing his foot. A play-castle. He scoffs. In all his years, he had never encountered something so malicious. He had a degree in this for God's sake!
He curses again, loudly, and a simpering sob issues from the crib. He sighs. Nimbly stepping through the evil obstacle course, he manages to cross the room unscathed.
"I know, I know, that was a bad word," he says lifting the beautiful crying mess up from the crib into his arms. "Don't worry," he says brightly, "bad words scare monsters away!" He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "but don't tell mum I said so." Wiping the toddler's small wet cheeks, he bounces his arms and heads back for the door.
Fitz flips a pancake as she slinks into the kitchen. "Morning beautiful," he says with a wink. She stifles a yawn and pulls her robe tighter around her soft belly with a dismissive chuckle.
"Well isn't this a pretty picture," she says looking around the room in exaggerated surprise. "It should be Sunday mornings all the time. Where are the minions of chaos I'm used to?"
"Minions of chaos? I resent that. We've been angels of perfection, as ever. Here," he says handing her a hot mug. "Your mum called."
She winces and sips sleepily before she stops. Concern clouds her features again.
"Don't look at me, she's your mother," he says, holding his hands out in defense. Jemma looks at him, startled, and glances around their small kitchen.
"What?" he says, realizing it's something else. She blinks and shakes her head as he slides a pancake onto the platter. "Déjà vu again?"
"Mmhmm..." she mumbles and waves her hand dismissively. "For the life of me I can't think why this keeps happening," she grins thinly. "I don't think we've ever had such a relaxing morning." He watches her carefully, handing over the hot plate. That was the tone she used when she was trying to distract herself. Something was off.
She places her mug and the pancakes on the table and leans over the cooing toddler, burying her face into the dark curls. Eyes closed, she breathes in deeply, making his heart swell for perhaps the thousandth time. When she stands back up, he just notices the sniffle of her nose and the way she quickly brushes a finger against her cheek. She smiles back at him, too brightly.
"Jem," he looks directly at her. "What is it?"
"Fitz, please, let's just enjoy this lovely morning. We get so few lately."
"Nope, not buying it," he says, walking out from behind the counter. "Something's wrong isn't it? Jemma, just tell me."
"It's just..." She looks nervously into his eyes. She opens her mouth and pauses, like she's second-guessing herself. "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just being silly." She sits down and places a hot pancake on his plate, motioning for him to sit.
He rolls his eyes at her and waits, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over his chest. She avoids looking at him, busying herself by pushing stray cheerios into neat rows along the table. He remains as he is, boring a hole into the side of her head with his expression. She presses her mouth into a thin line, and he silently counts to three in his head.
"Fitz," she locks her eyes with his, and her face melts fear, eyes welling up with tears. "W-what is our daughter's name?"
It takes him a moment, but he laughs dismissively. "Jemma you nearly gave me a heart-attack with all that! You know her name. You picked it yourself, didn't you?"
"Yes, of course. Just being silly," she looks down quickly, wiping her eyes. After a pause, she looks back up at him, eyes heavy. "But then... what is it?"
He opens his mouth to speak, and realizes nothing comes to mind. His stomach turns to ice. He looks over at the small girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Fitz. Please, let's forget that I-"
"Oh you just had to ruin a good thing, didn't you?" an old gravelly voice chirps.
Fitz turns, eyes wide. There's a little old man sitting on the counter in their kitchen who hadn't been there moments before. "Wh-what the hell is going on?"
The old man hops off the counter. His short stature barely reaches Fitz's shoulder. He tosses his wild gray hair out of his face to reveal features that are lined so heavily with wrinkles that his twinkling eyes are mostly just slits. He grins a wide toothless grin up at Fitz and taps the side of his nose knowingly. "Nope, sorry! Not the right question yet! Try again."
Fitz glances behind him, positioning himself between the counter and the table protectively. "What are you bloody doing in our house, then?" He growls. "How the hell did you get in?"
"Closer, but still no. One more try..." the man starts hopping lightly between his feet, knobbly knees knocking happily together.
Jemma stands slowly and steps over to Fitz. He holds a hand out to keep her from going forward, and glares dangerously at the old man. "I don't understand! What-?"
"-Fitz…" Jemma carefully holds his hand in both of hers, tears brimming out of the corner of her eyes. He turns and searches her somber face, fighting back panic.
"Aha, I think she's got it!" the old man snaps, grinning cheerfully.
Fitz looks up from their joined hands and back at the little old man with supreme irritation and confusion. Jemma lifts a soft, comforting hand to his cheek and turns his face to her. He cautiously slides his eyes back to hers, breathing deeply.
"Fitz. W-what's the last thing you remember before this morning?"
His eyes look between hers, not sure what she's getting at. But it comes back to him in a burst, and he nearly doubles over from the shock of it all. The cliffs. The Skrull. The wind. The portal. The feeling of his heart being ripped from his chest. He stumbles away from her, and she lets her hands drop. He looks back over to their kitchen table in fear and confusion, but it's gone. It's just the three of them. Fitz, Jemma and the little old man, surrounded by a field of blinding white nothing.
Fitz runs frantically to where the kitchen table was. "J-Jemma, what's happening? Where's-?" He gasps for air, trying to form a word. He still can't remember their daughter's name. "Oh God! Where is she? What's happening?"
Jemma hugs herself, "I'm so sorry, Fitz. I'm so sorry."
Finally piecing the sparse information together, Fitz stops searching the empty space and just stands still for a moment. When his breathing slows, he crumples onto his knees and holds his head in his hands, not able to look at her just yet. "W-We don't have a -" he closes his eyes, "do we? T-That wasn't real?"
He can feel Jemma looking over at him. She sniffles once and then tentatively rests a hand on his shoulder, sinking down to her knees next to him. They sit in silence for a few moments, just holding onto each other, neither of them sure what to say or how to feel.
"He very literally would do anything for you, y'know?" The old man says to Jemma, cutting into their silence. "Jumped right in after you to certain death after opening that portal. Nearly screwed up my whole plan," the man chuckles softly. "It would almost be sweet if it didn't make things so complicated. You young people have no patience."
"W-who are you?" Fitz finally manages, his voice a deadly growl.
"Ah, there it is, the right question!" The man cackles. Jemma glares up at him, and the man rolls his eyes. "Honestly I'm almost insulted you don't recognize me, sweetheart. And I thought we got so close." She smirks defiantly, continuing to glare.
"Does this ring any bells?" The wiry old man suddenly melts in front of their very eyes and turns into a tall black rock with deep impressions in its sides.
Not expecting this at all, Fitz and Simmons blink, unsure if they can take any more surprises. With a slosh, the rock turns back into the wiry little old man with knobbly knees. They stare at him, open-mouthed.
"I know. Worst power ever, right?" the man says, flicking a piece of dirt off of his wrinkled pants. "You really get the luck of the draw with those Terrigen Crystals. But I suppose it does have its uses," the man shrugs lightly.
Fitz and Simmons look at each other. Fitz gets carefully to his feet and takes a firm step towards the old man, jaw set firmly. "That was you? You're the Kree rock?!"
"In the flesh! Well, sort of…"
Fitz rushes forward, fists clenched, ready to lash out at the little old man. Simmons leaps up and holds Fitz back as the man ducks.
"What the hell?!" Fitz yells, gnashing his teeth, allowing Jemma to hold onto his arm. "You're the one that put us through all this? Why? How?"
"It's kind of a long story," the old man says, twiddling his thumbs. "Well, okay, maybe not," he pauses, considering. "The Kree have this leader," he continues with a smile and a shrug. "The Supreme Intelligence - bit of an ego on that one to be honest - Saw the whole Skrull war becoming a problem and they needed a bit of help. So I was asked, and I did what I do."
"Which is what exactly?" Fitz asks, glowering.
Simmons nods, eyebrows knitted together, "And why involve us?"
The old man grins knowingly, looking pointedly at each of them in turn. "Can you blame me? I've barely had any entertainment since they put me on that freighter decades ago. And then this kid walks in all flustered," he points to Fitz and wheezes with amusement, "and asked you out, and you didn't get it!" He slaps his knee and puts a hand to his forehead, grinning. "I just... how could I not have a little fun?"
"Fun? Fun! That's what you call fun?!" Fitz spits furiously, a dangerous shade of red. "We both nearly died! Multiple times! For all I know we could be dead right now, actually!"
"Oh calm down, you're not dead," the man waves dismissively. "Tell me you don't feel like you've at least grown a bit as people? It was character building!"
"Character building! Oh, that's rich coming from a big inanimate object!" Fitz tries to move forward again, but Simmons holds his arm back firmly.
"Touché," the man shrugs. "But in all fairness though, the timelines did fit with you two. She had the right skills to help that MarVell character, you had the right determination to find her, and together you knew the right people to get the job done…" he sighs happily. "It's funny. As much as a person can know about the inner workings of the universe, it still manages to send little gifts now and then!" The man rocks back and forth on his feet proudly.
Fitz turns away in a huff and paces angrily, rubbing the space between his eyes.
"So what did you do, exactly?" Simmons asks. "What's your particular power?"
"Well I transport people, for starters," the man says cheerily. "Bit of a tell with that one. But because of that, I do have an eye on the big picture to know where to send people," he skips, eyes twinkling. "I can go anywhere in time and space. See who needs a hand. And that, let me tell you, is quite something."
Fitz stops pacing and turns to face the old man with hands on is hips. "So you're basically a Tardis?"
"A What? No, I'm human! How dare you start calling an old man names."
"But you're a rock..."
"Well, technically, if you're being persnickety about it. But I do have feelings you know. A soul."
"A Tardis does too..."
"What the hell is a Tardis? No! I have a name! Eldrac. They used to call me Eldrac. Eldrac the Door," he finishes with a pompous nod.
"So you're Inhuman then?" Simmons asks.
He harumphs, but then pauses, thinking it over. "Is that what they're calling it these days? Fine. I suppose I am. I'm practically ancient y'know, so excuse me for not being up on all the lingo and whatnot. And trust me," he whispers loudly to Simmons, "I did not get around a lot before that freighter. Really hard to move around when you have no legs!" He hops as though he's told a great joke and starts skipping in a circle.
"So how are you... er... That is, how do you look human right now?" Simmons raises a hand to get him to stop moving around. "Are you a shape-shifter? Did the process reverse itself?"
"Lord no!" He slows and sits on the ground. "Still solid as a rock. Always will be." He rolls his eyes, "Gag, am I right? No, we're not really in any real place right now, so I get to look how I want. It's more of a… A little bit of imagination mixed in with a splash of mental... insanity? Power? Not necessarily real, but it works well enough for my purposes right now. I figured I'd get a much better reception looking like this than all -" he morphs back into the stone again for half a moment and chuckles when they both jump.
Fitz glares dangerously as the little man gains control of his laughter in human form. "So why are we still here then? You've had your fun."
"To be honest I've grown a bit attached to you two. Wanted to see things work out well," the old man sighs. "The Supreme Intelligence owed me a favour for helping out with the whole Skrull business, so I stepped in before you got sucked into the Negative Zone again without my protection." He looks between them. "You're welcome, by the way." Eldrac sighs again as Fitz and Simmons exchange a look. "I just thought I'd take you somewhere you really wanted to go, y'know?" Fitz shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Jemma, then Eldrac. "Hey, I didn't pick it, and you weren't even supposed to come along for the ride, so don't look at me like that!"
"Okay, but, so… so now what?" Fitz lifts his hands in exasperation. "We're just stuck here in limbo forever, or are you going to send us back?"
"Now… hmm.. Well, you two together are far too clever for your own good. She wouldn't have noticed a thing if you hadn't been there to poke holes at my little version of reality. Would have been happy as a clam. But now I suppose you've got a choice ahead of you," he says turning to face Jemma. "Where would you like me to send you back to?"
He snaps his fingers and two glowing screens appear in the bright white air in front of them.
"Behind door number one, we have the quiet happy life you've been pining after," he gestures grandly to one screen as it begins to replay their morning. Fitz watches as he tries to put together the play-castle later in the day while their daughter throws the pieces around her room. "Precious little what's-her-name… For real this time though. I'd just send you back right on in to that universe and you wouldn't know a thing were different. You would never have signed up to go into the field and you would both only ever know the happy, safe little family life."
He snaps his fingers and the second screen hums with energy. It replays highlights of their time in the field. Their first mission stopping Mike at Union Station. Working together to find a cure before Simmons leaped from the plane. Smuggling Coulson's toolbox out of the Playground. The dozens of longing glances they had each missed. Their heated kiss outside the tent.
"Behind door number two, you get the sexy life of super-scientists cum super-agents: saving the world in the face of danger. Making a difference. You'll have your team, your reputations, you'll make the world a safer place, but you'll never know which mission will be your last…"
The man bows with a dramatic flourish, then hops out from behind the two screens in excitement. "So… which is it? Which one feels like home?"
Fitz blinks and looks between the two screens, and then back at Jemma. She looks so scared, frozen in place. "Why? Why do we have to pick?" He says, stepping forward.
"Excuse you!" Eldrac says with a scoff. "Her. She gets to pick, not you. You weren't even supposed to be here!"
Fitz frowns and rests his hands on his hips. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jemma steps forward and the words fall away from his lips at the look on her face.
"We'll be together no matter what?" she asks, eyes shining.
Eldrac shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes, yes of course. Won't make that mistake again." He looks up to the heavens dramatically. "Let the Universe be warned: separate FitzSimmons at your own peril!" He shakes his head, chuckling to himself.
Fitz watches Jemma carefully. She smiles back thinly then turns her back to him, crossing her arms over her chest. She stands between the two screens with her head slightly bowed. He feels like he should go comfort her, but his temper gets the better of him.
"Why is this even a discussion? We already have a real life to go back to."
"Well…" Eldrac taps his foot, "they are equally as real as each other, if we're getting technical again."
"Okay. T-then what about Skye and Coulson and the others? We have to go back to them, see if they're safe."
"Nah, they'll be fine," Eldrac waves a hand. "Honestly, if you pick the other one, they'll just assume you died in the explosion or something. No harm done."
"What?! Jemma, are you hearing this?"
She takes a long, deep breath, then turns slowly to face him. He can see tears streaming down her face.
"I don't know if I can go back Fitz," she says quietly. She looks longingly to the screen with the play-castle. "We're safe here, in this life. We have everything that most people search their entire lives for. We're safe, and we're happy, and we've got each other. Isn't that enough?"
He takes a step closer and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Is this actually what you want though?" He asks, genuinely curious.
She sighs and shrugs with a soft smile. She gestures to the screen. "Here we have nappies and pancakes and phone calls from mum, a-and pta meetings and recitals. And us, Fitz, us. Together. Nothing scary or complicated. We're happy and we're safe for as long as we want. Isn't that something you want? Isn't it what you wanted before I signed us up for this whole mess in the field?"
He knits his eyebrows together. Is it what he'd wanted when he had hoped to stay in the lab? Maybe not consciously, but he did know he wanted the possibility. One day. "But what about Skye and the others? You're okay with them just thinking we died?"
"I'll have you," she says quietly.
"Jemma, I'm with you no matter what. That's not even a question," he says, grabbing her hand. "But we were making a difference before. Isn't that why you signed us up in the first place? See the world? Make a difference?"
"Well we saw the world," she says, growing angry. "Perhaps too much of it. Maybe we owe it to ourselves to stay safe and have a chance at a normal life rather than constantly needing to fix everything. We won't get this chance back home. It's not the life we signed up for there."
"But why? Why can't we have both? I'm in love with you, Jemma, and together we -we've figured out harder things before. We'll be together no matter what."
"But for how long, Fitz?" She exhales sharply. "There's danger at every corner! You said it yourself. We've both nearly died multiple times in the last few months alone, and that's not counting all the other near misses we've had over the last two years."
"There always will be danger though. Nothing can stop that. Just, try and think of the world if we'd never joined the field. There would be no icers, to start," he says. "Only lethal bullets lobbing about. There wouldn't be… I don't know, Shield might not exist. There's probably a million things that we invented on the Bus together knowing they'd make the world a better place. The world you want us to go to will be much more dangerous in comparison."
"But it won't affect us," she says grimly.
He stares at her, hard. "But for how long?"
She presses her mouth together into a thin line, and says nothing. On the screen with the play-castle, the little girl giggles musically. Fitz turns to watch as she tries to stand and toddle over to her mother. He stares at her bright blue eyes and sighs, lowering his head to his chest.
"I don't know. Honestly, Jemma, it is up to you. You know I love you no matter what. I'm happy with either option, really. As long as we're together. That's what counts, yeah?"
She hugs herself and looks longingly at the little girl, at the Fitz on the screen that triumphantly manages to get two pieces to stick together for a few seconds. Jemma reaches down and takes his hand in hers, wiping tears from her face. "I'm sorry, Fitz."
Jemma turns to the little old man and takes a deep breath. He winks back and cracks his knuckles with glee. "Alright boys and girls, we have a winner. Hold onto your hats!"
Fitz keeps his eyes on hers as they stand facing each other, holding their hands between them. The two screens silently play in the background. With a soft nod from her, they both shut their eyes tightly and feel a big rush wash over them.
"So. Where do you plan on going from here?" Coulson asks. He steps out from behind his desk.
"We've got some options in front of us," Rick replies. MarVell is leaning against the back wall of Coulson's office with a somber look. "Back to New York to start. We should hunt down the last remaining Skrull before they regroup themselves. That may take some time."
"Let us know if you need any help with that. I think we can all appreciate just how useful numbers can be after recent events," Coulson says with a tired look.
"We absolutely will."
Simmons stands quietly out in the hallway, gripping her arm nervously. When Rick and MarVell step out of Coulson's office, she rushes forward and gives MarVell a big hug. He nods quietly and wraps his big arms around the small woman.
"You're off then?" She says, stepping back.
"Yes. More work to be done. Earth still needs saving," the Kree nods. Coulson steps out of his office too and they all start walking down the hallway together.
"You'll let us know if you need anything?" she says, falling into step with MarVell. "Fitz and I will send you the Skrull-identifying prototype we're working on as soon as it's ready. He's still in the lab finishing up. You know if you stay a little longer, you can just take it with you."
"Yes, but Carol is waiting for us," Rick reminds her.
"There appears to be more trouble afoot," MarVell agrees. "No rest for the weary, as they say."
She shakes her head with a smile. "Right. Best get back to all that then. No need to stick around this boring old base."
Rick chuckles. "Boring! You may want to check the definition of that word Agent Simmons."
She purses her lips into a tight smile. As they round the corner, Rick places a hand on her shoulder, holding her back for a moment. "I just wanted to say that I'm so glad you're okay, Agent Simmons. Mack and I were so sure you and Agent Fitz had gone through that portal... I'm just - Glad you're still with us," he says matter-of-factly.
"Yes, well…" She glances away quietly, shifting her weight between her feet.
Rick gives her a small nod and walks past her through the doorway. Her eyes follow him, and she sees Fitz standing in the loading dock with Mack and May. She smiles to herself, pleasantly surprised to see him out of the lab, and runs to his side. He grins as she laces her fingers in his. They don't notice the others in the room share an eye-roll together.
"So what do you plan on doing with this big thing?" Mack asks, patting the big enclosure containing the Kree Stone. It's on wheels and packaged neatly to be moved onto the waiting Quinn Jet.
"I think we should send it somewhere far away," Fitz chimes in. "Far, far away." Simmons squeezes his hand tightly, agreeing.
"I hear Tahiti is pretty far," Coulson winks.
"It is a magical place," May agrees with a smile.
"We will drop it off at the secure location we discussed," MarVell says, confused, not understanding the joke between them. "And we will be in touch about the other item when it is time."
With a final nod to the team, Rick and MarVell board the jet. The Shield members all stand back as the plane rolls out of the hanger and takes off into the early evening sky.
"Well, I think that's enough alien business for a good long while, don't you?" Coulson says, facing the rest of the team.
Mack nods emphatically. "I've been ready to stick to Earth for longer than I can remember at this point."
"Be careful what you wish for," Coulson says with a smirk. "That reminds me. Mack, I need you to go get Hunter and Bobbi for me. They've been conveniently tied up for a little too long now. There's a new mission they need to prep for, and I'm tired of walking in on things I'd rather not see."
"You and me both, Director," Mack rolls his eyes. "I'll… get right on that." He shakes his head and steps out of the room, raising an eyebrow at Fitz as he goes. May shares a knowing look with Coulson and walks out after Mack without a word.
"Well?" Coulson says, turning to Fitz and Simmons.
"Well what, sir?" Simmons says, looking up. She'd been momentarily distracted by the thoughts running through Fitz' mischievous head.
"What are you still doing here?" The director looks pointedly at Fitz. "Don't you have…?"
"Right! Er…" Fitz straightens and brings his hand to the back of his head, dropping Simmons' hand in the process and blushing furiously. She looks between the two men, confused.
"Go on. Agent Fitz will debrief you," Coulson says with a cheeky smile and walks off.
"I don't understand. Do we have a mission too?"
"Just, ah, follow me," Fitz says, grabbing her hand back and marching down the hall without looking back. She follows suspiciously, but he keeps his mind annoyingly blank as they walk down the hallway back to the lab.
When he turns the lights on, she gasps. Soft strings of light are hung all over the room, and a thick plaid blanket is laid out in the middle of the floor. Two plates and wine glasses sit on it, next to flasks, beakers and most of their laboratory equipment filled with a whole spread of different foods.
"Fitz…" she breathes.
"Wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for," he says, rubbing his hands together nervously, "so there's bits of everything. Made it all myself, so…"
She steps into the lab, examining the different dishes. She lifts a flask he's filled with pancake syrup. "Is this even safe?"
"Oh shut it, it's supposed to be romantic," he mumbles, smiling shyly.
"Believe me, it is. Very," she grins up at him, thoroughly impressed. "You even made sandwiches?"
"Got the aioli recipe from your mum, but it doesn't taste the same. I'm pretty sure she left out some things on purpose."
"Traditional Spaghetti, very nice," she nods, moving along the dishes. "And is that-? Did you make Sushi?"
"Er, well... That I didn't make, actually," he says. "Tried to. Found what I thought were decent directions online, but ended up having to order in. It… did not go smoothly. Skye's still trying to clean the kitchen up."
She sees him replay the disastrous attempt at rolling sushi in his mind and suppresses a giggle. She turns to him and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her lips firmly against his. "Honestly, I don't know how you found the time for all this, but it's perfect, Fitz. Really."
He grins and pulls her closer. "Glad you approve, Simmons." He kisses her again, lingering just a little longer. As their kiss deepens, he pulls her down so they're sitting on the blanket together.
When she slinks her hands down his chest with a sly grin against his lips, he sits up suddenly. "Oh! I almost forgot," he says, snapping his fingers. "Sorry," he chuckles at her pout as he removes himself from her grasp. Reaching over to the counter behind them, he grabs hold of a small remote then nestles back in next to her with a sly grin of his own. "The final touch…" he pushes a button on the remote and a sultry line of music blasts through the lab.
I've been really tryin', babe…
"Gah! What the hell? No, no, no!" he flounders for the remote, turning beet red.
Tryin' to hold back these feelings for so long…
When the remote doesn't work, he dashes over to one of the counters, going for the tablet, but accidentally knocking a bunch of equipment over. Jemma covers her mouth, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up in her chest.
And if you feel, like I feel baby… Then come on, oh! Come on…
He fumbles, trying to right a bunch of things before they fall off the counter. Finally grasping the tablet, he taps furiously against it to try changing the song.
Let's get it on!-
The music abruptly changes, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Not a beat later, another song blasts suggestively through the speakers. "You have got to be kidding me!" he cries over the music. Jemma's shoulders start shaking from silent laughter.
I believe in Miracles! Where you from? You sexy thing…
"Oh for God's sake!" He furiously stabs at the tablet with his finger one last time and the music turns off completely. He tosses the tablet back to the table and rubs his eyes with his hand. He looks as though he wants to sink into the floor and disappear. "That was not me," he points at the tablet. "Skye must've changed all the titles of the songs on me-"
Jemma bites her lip. "You mean Daisy," she snorts. The look he shoots her finally does it. She can no longer hold back the laughter that bursts out of her mouth. He looks so mortified. She falls back on the blanket in a fit of giggles, openly laughing now.
He shuffles over and sinks down next to her in a huff. "It was supposed to be the string quartet you like," he grumbles. "I found all their albums and had this whole playlist prepared…"
That just makes her laugh harder. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for her laughter to subside. She leans up on her elbows and smiles at him, still giggling. He glares back, but can't completely hide the small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he looks away in feigned disgust.
"It's fine, Fitz! Really," she finally manages to say, trying to steady her breathing. "This whole thing is lovely," she says, gaining control of her laughter and motioning to the spread in front of them. "Here, just-" She sits up and pours some wine into one of the glasses and hands it to him.
He holds the stem of the glass sullenly as she pours her own glass. She raises it to him and grins, biting her lip.
"What are we cheering then?"
"How about… life on this boring old base?" she says.
They both take a sip. He puts his glass down and she smiles at him.
"Can I confess something to you?" he says, searching her face.
"Of course. Anything."
"I'm glad we're back. Here I mean. The life of adventure and intrigue. Glad you picked here."
"Oh," she looks down. "I wasn't sure if you remembered all that."
He shrugs. "I try not to think about it around you," he smiles nervously.
"Fitz…"
"It's just that this life suits you better somehow, y'know?" He picks up his wine glass and swirls the contents around, staring at it. "Besides, don't think I was ready to be a father just yet. Not that I wouldn't, eventually," he says, lifting a hand up before she can say anything. "But we were honestly a bit young, don't you think? Hadn't seen any of the world yet."
She lets out a heavy sigh. "You don't miss it? Being safe in your lab? A normal life? Family."
He shrugs. "Bits and pieces maybe. We've still got family here though. What about you? What made you pick here?"
She looks up at the ceiling and shakes her head. "I don't know. Something you said probably, got me thinking," she looks at him quickly. When their eyes meet, she looks back down at her hands. "Why did it have to be a choice between making a difference and having a normal life? Why not both?" She fiddles with the edges of the blanket, pulling absently at the threads. "I suppose here we've already got a head start at making the world safer. We'll just have to work a little harder to keep each other safe and then… I don't know, fit the other bits in somehow... At least give it a try..."
He reaches over and grabs her hand, tracing a small circle into her palm with his thumb. She smiles up at him, and he leans forward to kiss her softly on the lips. When they break apart, she sighs happily. "Besides," she says. "Since when have we done things normally?" With a twinkle in her eye, she reaches down and lifts her glass in the air. "Together we'll figure out our own version of normal, don't you think?"
He raises his glass to hers. "I'll definitely drink to that." With a clink, they both take a big sip, smiling over the rims of their glasses at each other.
Fitz sighs contentedly and leans back onto his elbows. He looks around the lab as she cuddles against him with her glass. "Pretty hard to imagine a kid running around the base, though, yeah?"
Simmons splutters into her wine. "One step at a time, Fitz!"
He grins at her slyly and raises an eyebrow. "Well obviously we'd have to get a dog first. Test the waters. And then there's the very clear next step from there…"
"Oh, Fitz. Absolutely not. Don't even entertain the thought!"
"Think about this now. If we can look after a monkey, a child is a piece of cake!"
"No, Fitz."
"And we could train it to be the nanny when we go off on missions. It's a brilliant idea!"
She reaches over and jabs her fingers into his side. He squirms and chuckles in response, spilling his wine. Placing the glasses down as he tries to dodge her fingers, he manages to grab hold of her wrists, pinning them to her sides.
She glares at him. "No dogs, no monkeys-"
"-Fine," he says rolling his eyes. "I guess we've got more than enough to worry about, saving the world, and all-"
"-At least not yet…" she grins cheekily.
He drops his mouth open, realizing she's half-agreed to his scheme. "Hold on - not yet as in… eventually?" She giggles as he catches on and his eyes light up. "But honestly think about what a monkey could-" she cuts him off by planting a kiss on his lips.
He blinks, distracted. "And what if-" she kisses him again.
He pulls away and opens his mouth to say something else, but she kisses him one last time, muffling the sound. She tangles her hands firmly in his curls, not letting him pull away this time.
"Well now I've lost my train of thought," he breathes, coming up for air.
"Finally," she laughs and pulls him down to the blanket with her.