Hour by Hour
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“H-Hi, Jemma,” he mumbled, his fingers gripping the window frame while he cast an uncertain smile in her direction. Taking a deep breath, Fitz released the wood a finger at a time and straightened to his full height. He paused, seeming to wait to see if he could maintain his balance on his own, and his smile grew steadier as he realized he could indeed keep his feet.
Leo Fitz, genius and certified mischief maker, was buzzed. And standing in her bedroom to boot.
“Hi, Fitz,” Jemma replied, keeping her voice low so as not to wake her parents. Her father was strict on his best day; finding the boy he’d been threatening to expel all term standing in his daughter’s bedroom in the wee hours of the morning wouldn’t do either of them any favors.
Series
- Part 1 of Hour by Hour
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In which Fitz' time in detention takes a far more interesting turn.
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- Part 2 of Hour by Hour
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“What is that?”
Fitz jerked his chin away from Bobbi’s grasping fingers, hoisting his satchel higher on his shoulder and turning back toward his locker. He reached in for his chemistry text, simply for an excuse to not meet her gaze.
“Nothin’.”
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- Part 3 of Hour by Hour
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Slowly but surely the sunlight crept across the bedroom floor, climbed the box frame and mattress, and slanted across the rumpled quilt to discover two sleepers where there was usually only one.
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- Part 4 of Hour by Hour
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“Jemma Simmons, you slut!”
Jemma shot a pointed look at the well-above-regulation hem of Daisy’s skirt as she slid into the desk beside her before going back to her notebook. She kept doodling in the margins, the ballpoint pen tracing over the curves of the simple nucleotide chains as she tucked her palm more firmly against her neck. Jemma pondered the merits of ignoring her best friend. There was always a chance she’d let the subject die… but experience with Daisy told her that chance was slim.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
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- Part 5 of Hour by Hour
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Fitz crouched low in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming on the wheel as he squinted toward Jemma’s front door. The street was dark, save for the few lamps that lit individual drives and walkways, and it only served to give the neighborhood an eerie feeling of anticipation. Or perhaps that was only Fitz’ nerves.
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- Part 6 of Hour by Hour
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The sun crept above the horizon and Jemma did her best to race it, her feet pounding out a steady rhythm against the pavement.
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- Part 7 of Hour by Hour
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“But, tha’s bizarre, righ’? Like, why would she do tha’?”
Fitz smashed his reload button to no avail. His controller buzzed in his hands as his avatar died in a spray of blood. He sighed and reached for his can of Red Bull, knocking his headset askance even as he drained majority of the can in a single long pull. Setting it to the side again, he adjusted his headset, rolled his shoulders, and waited to see where he’d respawn.
“No clue, Turbo.” Mack’s voice crackled through his headphones. “Girls are weird like that.”
Series
- Part 8 of Hour by Hour
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Fitz darted into the classroom, skidding to a halt before the instructor just as the final bell rang. His gaze flitted around the room, desperately seeking the only person he could rely on to get him through a semester of AP Chemistry. Spotting Mack’s hulking form in the back of the room, Fitz made for him, carefully winding his way through the lab benches before dropping into the seat next to him.
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- Part 9 of Hour by Hour
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The soft swick of the broom over the linoleum was hypnotizing, drawing Fitz’ lids downward despite the ungodly amount of tar-like coffee he’d consumed. Forcing his chin up off his chest, Fitz stared hard through the giant plate glass windows and out into the nearly empty parking lot.
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- Part 10 of Hour by Hour
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She gave a soft sigh and reached for her phone, looking for a quick distraction. A run through Facebook or Instagram would be just what she needed to reset her brain so she could focus on her studies.
Problem was, nothing caught her attention.
With a slightly louder groan, Jemma looked back at her chemistry text. Instead of reviewing the day’s lesson, however, it only conjured images of sandy curls, blue eyes, and a smirk that made her stomach flip.
Before she realized what she was doing, Jemma picked up the phone, thumbed her way through her contacts, and quickly fired off a message. She had to, or she’d overthink what was happening.
Series
- Part 11 of Hour by Hour
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Jemma kept her eyes down, focused hard on the textbook in front of her. With the way she was hunched forward over the desk, steadfastly refusing to look at anyone or anything around her, it was clear that interruptions would not be welcome. Jemma realized it might not be the ideal attitude for a peer tutor to take, but she didn’t particularly care.
Her world had disintegrated from beneath her feet. If her classmates were still struggling with only a few weeks to go until finals, they were well beyond any assistance she could offer.
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- Part 12 of Hour by Hour
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No matter where he drove, what he did, all he could see was the ugly look on the headmaster’s face as he leaned out of his car window and demanded that Jemma get in the car. The look on her face haunted him. Fitz had never seen someone look so distraught, and the fact that it had been Jemma - her face crumpling inward as she tried not to cry on the street - had only made it a thousand times worse.
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- Part 13 of Hour by Hour
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“Oh, just some quick research,” Jemma replied, trying to force her voice to remain steady. “For chemistry. Fitz and I are working on a project-”
“Jesus, him again? I swear, all I hear you talk about now is him and that stupid chemistry class.”
Jemma narrowed her eyes and glared at her boyfriend, who remained utterly oblivious to the fact that his tone had not gone over well. Apparently his faux Philly cheesesteak and fries were more important than actually paying attention at the moment, and while Jemma had never considered herself to be a particularly reactionary person, she was tempted to throw her water in his face.
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- Part 14 of Hour by Hour
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Fitz squinted against the sunlight as he made his way up the neatly manicured path, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He should have worn shorts. Even this early in June, the sun and humidity combined were making him feel sticky and uncomfortable, but he pressed on. The truth was he was looking for a reason to run back to his car.
Series
- Part 15 of Hour by Hour
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“He’s sending me away.” Daisy lifted her head from Jemma’s shoulder at her quiet admission, and gave her a puzzled look. “The official word is that we’re visiting family back home. Let them praise my accomplishments and then a tour around the Continent as my graduation gift before I go to Stanford, but… I think he knows.”
“Knows? About what? Wait… you think he found out about Fitz?”
“Yeah.” Jemma nibbled her lip and nodded. “I have no idea how, but that’s the only reason I can think of that he’d be so eager to get me out of here so quickly. We leave in a few days.”
Series
- Part 16 of Hour by Hour
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Jemma stared down at the papers in her hand, rereading the words she’d spent the better part of a night writing, scratching out, then rewriting. She’d gone through nearly 20 sheets before she had a draft she was happy with, and even still she hated every word swimming before her eyes.
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- Part 17 of Hour by Hour
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Fitz stood in the middle of the quiet lab, hands propped on his hips and foot tapping as he stared down at the beaker before them, willing the electroplating to go faster. It was either that or stare at Jemma, who was leaning over the lab bench and working on her portion of the lab report as they waited, looking for all the world entirely oblivious to him.
Series
- Part 18 of Hour by Hour
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In the end, Jemma did what was expected of her.
She went to her hair, nail, and makeup appointments before putting on the fire engine red, floor-length gown with the lace embroidered back. Her mother cooed the entire time she was getting ready, going on and on about how much fun she’d have at the dance and grating on Jemma’s nerves. Still, she maintained her calm, forcing a wide smile through pictures with Daisy and Trip.
Series
- Part 19 of Hour by Hour
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Fitz crouched low in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming along the steering wheel as he watched the front door. It wasn’t lost on him that this was the second time in ten hours that he was staking out the Simmons residence, although he was far more likely to be arrested if one of their neighbors spotted him now. After spending a night drinking on Hunter’s roof, he was very much worse for wear; with his bloodshot eyes and his rumpled button down, Fitz wouldn’t be surprised if he was mistaken for a vagrant.
The thought gave him pause, and he sank even lower in his seat. His mother had enough to worry about without him being dragged home by the police as the sun was rising.
Series
- Part 20 of Hour by Hour