Archive of Our Own

"Daisy, is this a bad time?"

"Jemma," she said without turning around, "what do you think about this one?"

When Jemma came closer, she realized that each window Daisy had open showed a different floor plan.

"Are you moving?"

Daisy flicked her eyes up to Jemma and nodded. "Grant finally agreed to move in with me." 

It seemed to Jemma that Daisy had more to say, but when she waited a while for Daisy to continue, nothing happened.

"Well, congratula—"

"Jemma, if I asked you a question, do you think you could give me an honest answer?" 

Jemma raised an eyebrow. "Of course I will."

"Good," said Daisy, "because I think some of the guys in the science department have been smoking."

Jemma once again waited for Daisy continue, but Daisy only looked up at her expectantly.

"Wait," said Jemma, "was that the question?"

"Yes."

"It sounds more like a statement."

"Well, the question part is implied."

"But I really didn't hear anything in the inflection—"

"Jemma," said Daisy, "have your science guys been smoking or not?"

Jemma stared at Daisy, completely perplexed. "The company . . . the company doesn't hire people who smoke, Daisy. Everyone in my department is in compliance with regulations. They're good employees."

Daisy only glared at Jemma. "Are you sure your guys having been sneaking around here, and smoking? And lying to me, and smoking?"

"Why would they . . . yes, I'm sure." Jemma pinched her eyes shut. "Daisy, it's not even your department."

Daisy leaned forward with her elbows on her desk, massaging her temples with her fingers. "I need you to be honest with me, Jemma. I can't have someone lying to me. To my face. In my place of business. On my time."

Jemma had absolutely no idea why Daisy was so incensed, but when she tried to analyze Daisy's words, all she could say was, "That's a lot of prepositions."

"There's no reason for that kind of dishonesty, is there?" Daisy screwed her face into an expression of pure disgust. "In a workplace, where people expect to be treated with dignity? Jemma, we made promises to each other. I mean, the company gave me an offer letter, and I accepted it, right? That's like making promises, isn't it?"

Jemma looked from Daisy to the floor plans to her feet, feeling something gurgle in the pit of her stomach. "Maybe I should get back to work."

Daisy cocked her head at Jemma and stared off into the distance, taking in a sharp breath. "Yeah, yeah, of course. You go ahead."

Jemma turned to make her escape and was almost gone before she heard Daisy call her name.

"Jemma," Daisy repeated when Jemma turned around, "we're good, right? You and me?"

Jemma swallowed. "Yeah, of course." 

And before Daisy could say anything else, Jemma scurried off to find Bobbi. 

Fitz's apartment, it turned out, looked dramatically different when it was bulging at the seams with people. Jemma was overwhelmed almost immediately, and not five minutes into the party she bought a brand new outfit for, she found herself hiding in a corner, stress-eating pretzels and scanning the adjoining room for Fitz.

"I'm Elena."

Jemma turned to the voice yelled over the din of the crowd to find a woman with long, dark hair and a wide smile. She pointed to an even darker man beside her.

"And this is Joey."

Elena offered her hand, and Jemma took it. "I'm Jemma. How do . . ." One final scan and she found him, far in the corner of the living room, talking to a tall brunette. "How do you know Fitz?"

Joey looked to Elena, who looked back at him.

"Well, we don't," he answered, "but Elena—"

"I work with his roommate, Mack," Elena finished.

Jemma saw the brunette throw Fitz a flirty smile and felt the need to clear her throat. "I thought Mack wasn't going to be here."

"He's not," said Elena, "but he told me I was welcome to come anyway. It's strange to be in his house, though—I've never actually met him."

When Jemma raised an eyebrow, Joey leaned in to offer an explanation. "We work for an ad company that promotes his insurance agency. Mack and Elena usually do business over the phone."

"And by email," added Elena. "Do you know Mack, Jemma?"

She couldn't help but cringe, though she was slightly encouraged when she saw Fitz ignore the brunette completely. "I don't know him that well at all, actually," she said. "Fitz invited me."

Elena nodded. "And how do you know Fitz?"

"Well," she said with a gulp, "I hope . . . uh, I mean I'm pretty sure that something's about to happen between us."

Joey and Elena exchanged a glance, and the two offered something akin to hums of a congratulatory nature.

"So," said Elena, "does that mean that you're here as a guest, or are you his date?"

When Jemma wasn't sure how to answer, Joey chimed in. "Guys, right? Why can't they be more clear about things?"

"You should talk," said Elena, nudging him with her shoulder. "But it is tricky. You don't know if you should bring a friend, or if you're co-hosting, or what. And if you are, should you stay after for some alone time?" Elena took a sip of her drink. "I don't like men who move slow like that. I like to move fast."

"Well," offered Jemma, "I'm pretty sure that I'm more than a date. There have been signs."

Joey and Elena both took large sips of their drinks at the same time.

"Oh," said Elena.

"That's nice," offered Joey. After a few beats of awkward silence, he nodded to Elena.

"Well, we'd better—"

Elena nodded. "Yeah. Nice to meet you, Jemma."

And before she could return the sentiment, Jemma found herself alone with her pretzels again.

"Hey," Fitz yelled as he approached, "I had no idea it'd be such a mad house!"

Jemma looked around to make sure the brunette was nowhere in sight, then smiled.

"It's some party!"

"Yeah, thanks." He gently squeezed her arm, then grabbed an empty bowl behind her and took off towards the kitchen. She stayed close behind. "So, did any guys hit in you? Do you, uh, need me to evaluate any levels of interest?"

Was he jealous? Jemma tucked her hair behind her ear and they made their way through the crowd. Best to soothe his worry immediately. 

"Well," Fitz said, "it's too bad Trip couldn't make it. I really think the two of you would hit it off."

"Right," Jemma chuckled, bring her hands up for air quotes, "Trip."

He furrowed his brow. "Yeah, Trip." He stared at her for a second, then shook his head. "Look, I've got to go for a beer run, but do you think you could help me out? I'm doing my best to keep all the snack bowls filled, and if you could just—"

"Kind of like co-hosting?"

Fitz blinked at her. "Yeah, sure. Would you mind?"

She beamed at him. "Not at all."

He thanked her before grabbing his keys and disappearing into the crowd, and Jemma felt the supreme joy of surety. Fitz had asked her to be his co-host, which was basically an audition for being his girlfriend, and this was one test she could pass with flying colors. She went to work immediately, refilling chips and freshening drinks, and getting to know quite a few of Fitz's guests along the way. Akela and Mike were both going to school to become ophthalmologists, Elena had a huge crush on Mack that Joey was egging on, and the brunette was named Lorelei.

It was when Jemma was mixing together a new batch of dip that Lorelei entered the kitchen.

"Can I help you find something?" 

Lorelei simply brushed past her as she grabbed something off a high shelf. "Oh, no need. I've found it on my own." She looked down at Jemma and took the bowl of dip right out of Jemma's hands. "Thank you for your assistance."

"What?"

"Fitz asked me to make more of this," Lorelei explained, "thank you for your contribution." She took a sample taste of the dip and frowned. "Though I think it needs a little more dill."

Jemma stood there for a full minute, still holding her mixing spoon, until she realized that Lorelei was the hostess at Fitz's bar.

Jemma was so focused on rounding up the last of the beer bottles that she almost didn't realize that everyone was gone except herself and Fitz. And, unfortunately, Lorelei, who was watching Fitz tinker with a small drone.

"And this is one of your inventions?"

Fitz looked up at Lorelei and shook his head. "No, this is Mack's, actually. He asked me to fix it for him so he could use it on yet another weird ad campaign. I think Elena will shoot it down, though. Metaphorically, of course."

"Of course," Lorelei agreed. When she leaned in a little too close, Jemma cleared her throat.

"I think it's all done," Jemma said. "Everything is cleaned up. Should I take these bottles out to recycling, or . . ."

But they weren't looking at her, because Lorelei was asking what kind of power the drone ran on, and Fitz was answering in far more detail than was necessary. Jemma's heart sank as she checked her watch.

"Actually, it's almost three, so maybe I should just . . ."

"It's what?" Lorelei stood up immediately and began collecting her things. "I have to get going. Thank you, Fitz," she said as she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, "it was a glorious gathering."

"Glorious," said Fitz, seemingly perplexed, "right."

Jemma wasn't sure what a kiss on the cheek meant for Fitz and Lorelei, but the clear disinterest on Fitz's face was the kind of evidence she was looking for. She waited until she heard the door slam, counted to three, and decided to make her move.

Her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty, but this was always how it happened in the movies, or in some friend's story, and all she had to do was follow the script. She sat on the couch next to Fitz and waited for her cue.

"Thanks for staying and helping to clean up," he said. Yawning, he stretched and began to stand. "I really got to go to bed, though."

And there it was.

"Is that an invitation?"

Fitz stopped cold. "What?"

She chuckled at herself, feeling the blush come to her cheeks. "That was so cheesy, I'm just . . . I'm not good at this."

Fitz rubbed at his eyes. "What?"

And he was just so adorable, and so handsome, and she was so nervous that she decided to just jump right in. Or over, scrambling across the couch and aiming straight for Fitz's lips. She hit her target and slid her hand around his neck, pushing him down on the couch and feeling his arms around her. She was overcome with relief as all tension evaporated. Never before had anything felt so right.

"I knew it," she said between kisses, "the best relationships grow out of friendships."

She expected him to kiss her back, or to whisper something in her ear, but instead he pushed her away, staring back at her in confusion.

"Jemma, what—? We're . . . you think we're in a relationship?"

Jemma swallowed and sat up. Honestly, she was so overcome by the thrill of butterflies that she could hardly breathe. She liked Fitz, she realized, liked him more than she'd expected, and they got on so well and made such a good team that she couldn't imagine anyone better suited for her. 

But still, there was no need to get ahead of herself.

"No," she answered, "not in a relationship yet, but we're getting there." 

He didn't return her smile. "And why . . . why would you think that?"

"Because of the signs," she said with a playful scoff. "You know, it was good to hear from me, and calling me from work, or when you were with a girl. Letting me pick out your outfits."

Fitz shook his head, leaning away from her. "Jemma." He stood up from the couch and paced back and forth until he stopped, flinging his hands out to each side. "Jemma, what have I been saying to you since I met you? If a guy wants to date you, he'll make it happen. Did I ask you out?" 

Jemma frowned. "No, not exactly."

"Why would you do this?" He slapped both hands over his face. "Why do women do this? Why do they build up this stuff in their minds and take each little thing a guy does and . . . and then twist it into something else? It's . . . it's madness! And I thought, I thought . . . I thought you were more like me."

He huffed out a sigh and went into a kitchen, and she thought she heard the opening of the fridge door and the scrape of a beer bottle as her while world fell to pieces. He didn't want to kiss her? Why? He hadn't asked her out, but he was the reason she came to his party. He'd been the driving force behind their whole friendship, and if he couldn't see that, and if he couldn't see what they could be together, then she must have been looking at him the wrong way this whole time. What kind of a person wouldn't want someone as great as Jemma was? What kind of person . . .

But then it clicked. Fitz' s take on dating had seemed so smart at first, but now . . .

"I'd rather be like me than be like you," she concluded.

"Excuse me?"

It was all falling together then, things she'd said and things he'd said back, his view of the world and the way he'd reacted to it. How could she have been so blind?

"I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there too much," she said, rising from the couch to face him, "but . . . at least that means I still care. What, do you think you've won, because women are expendable to you? Because you thought you could teach me to see men as expendable?"

"I never said—"

"Fitz, you may never get . . . get hurt or make a fool of yourself that way, but you don't fall in love that way, either." She swallowed, letting herself take a deep breath. "You have not won. You're alone, just like me, but at least I'm doing something about it. At least I'm not going to be alone for the rest of my life, like you are."

She grabbed her coat and left, so angry that she could barely see. She'd been so stupid to trust him, and to fall for him, and to let herself believe that a man so cynical could return any feelings she might have. She stumbled down the stairs and onto the street, her eyes so blinded by tears that when she took out her phone to get an Uber, she almost couldn't read Daisy's texts.

He cheated on me, Jemma.

Grant cheated on me.  He told me himself. 

Everything with Fitz faded to the background, and Jemma was scrambling to call Daisy when her phone rang. She answered the call without hesitation.

"Daisy? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Can you come over? It's Bobbi."

It took Jemma a second to remember the wedding. Bobbi was at her sister's wedding! Could Hunter have—

"What's wrong with Bobbi?"

"She's fine," assured Daisy, "I mean, technically. It's just, her dad."

A thousand images flooded through Jemma's mind. "Her dad?"

"He had a heart attack. Can you come? They're taking him to the hospital, and I don't want her to be alone."

"Yes, of course," said Jemma, feeling her whole body shake. "I'll be right there."