Chapter Text
Standing in front the departures board at the bustling airport, Fitz couldn’t help but grimace. Clearly, this was his punishment for waiting to fly back home until December 23rd. Cutting it so close to the holiday, he knew he’d be in for an (extra) long wait in the security queue, but he hadn’t anticipated a freak London snowstorm. Now his flight was delayed and at this rate, he was definitely going to miss his connection. His mum would not be pleased. He had opted to stay at school the last two Christmases and if he missed another, he was genuinely afraid she would disown him.
“Oh, that’s bloody ridiculous!”
The sudden outburst broke through the thoughts swirling in his head. Fitz turned in the direction of the disgruntled traveler and was mildly surprised to find a petite brunette, about his age, standing next to him. Wearing a burgundy sweater over a crisp collared shirt and a frustrated scowl that matched his own, he didn’t even need to ask what the source of her agitation was.
The woman caught Fitz staring and looked sheepish, gesturing at the screen, “Sorry-- Looks like my flight is majorly delayed. Ugh, flying during the holidays is the worst!”
“No, no. I totally get it-- I’m in the same boat. And honestly, who wants to be stuck in an airport at Christmas?” Fitz agreed. “I’m guessing you’re flying into Heathrow too? Apparently, it’s snowing pretty bad in London, causing all sorts of delays and generally wreaking havoc on everyone’s holiday travel.”
“Well, that’s just perfect. All I want for Christmas is to get home and Mother Nature decides to throw a big snowy roadblock in my way,” the brunette muttered. Turning to face him, her tone softened, “I appreciate you letting me know. Normally I’m more on top of these things, but finals have really done me in.”
Fitz opened his mouth to ask where she went to school, but at that exact moment, her phone rang. She glanced down at the screen and said, “Shoot, I better answer this. Thanks again-- and Happy Christmas!”
Before he could even respond, the mystery girl had turned on her heel and put the phone to her ear. As she walked away, he heard her say, “Hi mum. Yes, I heard about the weather… yes, my flight’s delayed…”
She briefly glanced back at him and he gave an awkward little wave. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her phone call. Shaking his head, Fitz shuffled towards his gate, chalking up the conversation as a pleasant interaction with a stranger he was unlikely to ever see again.
He found his gate quickly and was surprised to find that it was still fairly empty, especially considering it was the day before Christmas Eve. Claiming a seat with an outlet nearby, he sat down and threw his backpack on the empty chair next to him. Pulling his laptop out and queueing up an episode of Doctor Who, Fitz settled in and prepared himself for a long night of waiting around the airport.
A little over halfway into the episode, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Pausing the video and tugging the headphones out of his ear, Fitz looked up to see his mystery girl standing in front of him (not that she was his , he corrected mentally). She asked tentatively, “Is anybody sitting here?”
Fitz looked at her blankly for a few seconds before glancing around the terminal. In the half hour that he had been watching the episode, the gate had really filled up. Somehow, the chair currently occupied by his bag was now one of the few empty ones left.
Quickly snatching his backpack off the seat, Fitz sputtered, “Oh, yeah. Of course! Sorry about that.”
The girl smiled and sat down next to him. “No problem. I’m sorry I ran off like that earlier-- you know how mums are. Plus, I figured if I was going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, I needed supplies,” she said, waving the large Starbucks cup and bag from the newsstand she was carrying.
“Smart. All I have is half-eaten granola bar and some stale biscuits in my bag.”
“Oh! I’m more than happy to share,” the girl piped up. ”Crisp?”
That gave Fitz the opening he needed. “I don’t know-- my mom always warned me not to accept food from strangers. I don’t even know your name,” he said with a wry smile.
“Oh! Right, that would help! I’m Jemma, Jemma Simmons,” she said, sticking her hand out over their shared armrest.
Fitz grasped her extended hand, “Leopold Fitz. But everyone just calls me Fitz.”
“Well, Fitz, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, Jemma.”
The pair held the handshake a beat or two longer than necessary. Fitz realized this and dropped it quickly, a blush creeping up his cheeks, Embarrassed, his eyes darted to the flight status screen by the gate, desperate for a distraction.
When he looked back, Fitz noticed that Jemma had zeroed on his half closed laptop, her eyes wide as saucers. Looking at the many stickers adorning his laptop, Fitz tried to figure out which one had caught Jemma’s attention. “What? Is it my United sticker? Please don’t tell me you support Liverpool-- I may have to reconsider our budding friendship.”
Jemma scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. What is it with boys and football? My boyfriend is the same way about his team. No, I was looking at that-- MIT?”
Fitz’s stomach dropped a bit at the casual mention of a boyfriend, but curiosity got the better of him, so he brushed it off. Brow furrowed, he replied, “That? Well, yeah, I go to MIT. Am I missing something? What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I also go to MIT!” Jemma blurted out. “Which is pretty crazy, if you ask me…”
“What? No way!” Fitz exclaimed. “What year? What department?”
“Biochem. And I’m a junior-- why are you looking at me like I have two heads?”
“Because I’m a junior, too. Engineering, though.”
Both Jemma and Fitz let this new information sink in for a second, holding each other’s gaze.
After a beat, Jemma said slowly, “So let me get this straight. We’ve both been on the same campus for the past two and half years and have never crossed paths, but we randomly meet at one of the busiest airports on one of the busiest travel days of the year. What are the odds?”
“Pretty astronomical actually. There are just over 11,000 students at MIT and we’ve both likely spent over 800 days on campus--”
“Fitz, stop-- that was rhetorical. I don’t need you to do the math,” Jemma interrupted, rolling her eyes. “But for the record, I’m glad we beat the odds and met today. Even if it took a snowstorm to make it happen.”
Fitz and Jemma spent the next hour comparing notes-- running down friends, classes and professors to see if there was any overlap. They mostly ran in separate circles, but they did share a couple of common acquaintances. There had apparently been few near misses over the years-- like in their freshman year, when they had been signed up for the same chem lab, but Fitz transferred out last minute to make room in his schedule for an extra engineering elective.
The conversation turned to how they ended up at MIT in the first place (Jemma’s dad was crushed when she chose MIT over his alma mater, Cambridge) and why they had chosen their respective fields (Fitz was always tinkering and trying to invent things as a kid, so engineering was a natural fit).
As their original two hour delay stretched into hour four, Fitz realized he should be angry or frustrated at the situation, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He marveled at how the time seemed to be flying-- and how comfortable he felt around Jemma. An introvert at heart, it normally took him a while to warm up to new people. But not with her-- it was like they had been friends for years.
By the time they finally boarded the plane an hour later (a full five-and-a-half hours later than they were supposed to!) and went their separate ways for the holiday, he could already tell that Jemma was going to become a big part of his life.