Work Text:
0. An observation is made
Lance Hunter was on base for three months before he first saw Leo Fitz smile. A real smile, that is, not a ‘glad we’re not dead’ smile or a ‘yes Skye I’m fine’ smile.
Tripp had been in charge of dinner. Everyone tended to try and pass their turn to cook off on Tripp, who could cook about as well as Mack could hug or Skye could hack. Lance was on dish duty and he saw Tripp grab a cake from the fridge.
“Rude, mate,” he told him. Tripp grinned.
“Please tell me that’s not what it smells like?”
“You mean a coffee cake with extra cinnamon crumble crust?” Tripp clarified. “Why yes, yes it is.”
“You suck Triplett,” Lance told him.
“Stop skipping your turn to cook and you’ll stop getting dish duty,” he replied, voice reasonable. Then he gave a wicked smirk before walking out of the galley with the cake.
Anyway, point is that the second Leopold Fitz took his first bite of that cake, his face lit up and broke out into a wide smile. It was like magic.
-
“You may just be projecting your own weird degree of cinnamon love,” Mack told him, not looking convinced.
“No one appreciates a jealous mechanic with a cinnamon allergy, Mack.” Lance replied. Mack frowned.
“And why don’t ‘thank god we’re alive’ smiles count? We work for SHIELD; if those don’t count, we’re all screwed.”
“That’s not the point,” Lance said.
“What is the point?”
“The point is that Leo Fitz has a lovely smile and we all don’t get to see it enough,” Lance replied. Mack paused the game.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Well it was two mates having a discussion and now it’s one mate cheating by pausing in the middle of the game he’s losing.”
“Fitz is a good guy,” Mack said slowly.
“I know,” Lance replied with a roll of his eyes, “I’m just suggesting that maybe it would be better for all of us if the emotional heart of the team didn’t walk around like an abandoned puppy all of the time.”
“Don’t screw with him,” Mack said.
“Mack! I’m being sincere here!” Lance protested.
“Well, what’s your plan then?” Mack asked.
“I’m starting with that grand declaration. It’s been like an hour mate, I’m working on it,” Lance replied.
1. Alliances are Formed
“Skye, love, can I talk to you for a moment?” Lance asked, jogging slightly to come up next to her in the hallway. She frowned, looking suspicious.
“Why?” She asked.
“Now that’s a little unwarranted, isn’t it?” Lance replied with an exaggerated frown. “I was just wanting to know a bit more about the team is all. I’ve been with you people for months now and it’s hard to get a read on Fitz.”
“You mess with Fitz and I will be first in line to fuck you up, love,” Skye informed him, arching an eyebrow.
“No! Bloody Hell, why all of the distrust?”
“Is this another thing like when you’d asked if I’d ever taken anyone out?” Skye asked. “Because I’m thinking that’s a question he would know the answer to.”
“Nothing like that,” Lance said. “He’s just a quiet chap and I was hoping to do something to cheer him up a bit.”
“… and that’s it?” Skye clarified.
“That’s it,” Lance said. Skye frowned, but seemed to consider his question.
“… I’ve got my eye on you,” she said. “Fitz hates being called by his first name, and has all of the Harry Potter books memorized.” Then she nodded and walked away.
-
“Mack darling,” Lance said, a few hours later after getting rebuffed from May and Coulson. Mack hummed to acknowledge his presence, but didn’t look over from where he was working on his tie. “Have you noticed that the people on this bus are highly suspicious?”
“just of you,” Mack replied with a smirk. “Don’t you have a mission to get ready for?”
“I wake up ready,” Lance replied. “And I’m serious - you’d think I was asking Fitz’ favorite color in order to poison him with a bright yellow ice lolly or something.”
“I don’t think his favorite color is yellow,” Mack said.
“Yellow is the only one I’ve eliminated actually,” Lance said faintly. Mack rolled his eyes - he was trying to hide it but was still facing the mirror - and finally turned around - tie tied.
“I’m sure it’ll work out,” he said, patting Lance on the shoulder as he passed by.
“Yeah yeah, don't die out there mate.”
-
“Fitz!” Lance said, coming around the corner to find Fitz in the lounge, game paused. The other man startled a bit and looked over as Lance hopped over the back of the couch to sit beside him.
“Yes?” He asked with a small frown.
“What’s your favorite color?” Lance asked. Fitz blinked at him in confusion.
“What?”
“Your favorite color, what is it?”
“W-why?”
“I’m curious. Did you know that Mack’s favorite color is sea-foam green? I’ve always been a fan of yellow myself - not neon mind, but a warm yellow like those damn flowers that are popular around Easter.”
Fitz was staring.
“What?” Lance asked. “You know the ones? Daffodils? Tulips maybe? I’m not great with flowers.”
“Skye said you were asking questions about me and everyone’s been…ah, suspicious? Suspicious about it, but you’re just kind of odd,” Fitz finally said with a nod. He smiled and turned back to the TV, un-pausing his game. “I like light blue.”
Lance was startled at the ease with which Fitz had smiled at him, and how natural it looked on his face considering a slight air of melancholy was his usual. It was better than the coffee cake smile, because this time he was smiling at Lance, it had even reached his eyes.
2. Lance Realizes They’re Both from the U.K.
“Fitz!” Lance calls out, knocking on the frame of the doorway to the lab the scientist was currently working in. Fitz glanced up, looking a bit like a confused terrier. “I managed to convince Skye to rig up the system so the tv’ll show BT Sport tonight. Care to meet up later and watch the match?”
“Sure,” Fitz said, visibly brightening. “I haven’t been able to watch one live…. in… in… recently.”
“Great, see you then!”
-
“Well,” Mack mused as he watched Lance set up the snacks. “If he really is as into fake-football as you are you may actually brighten his day a little bit.” Lance glowered at him.
“It’s the only real football Mack, you know that. But I’m not going to let you bring me down today, Liverpool is playing MannU and we’re going to destroy them so nothing can bring me down!”
“Really? Not even the fact that it will only be the two of you watching at like 1 in the morning because everyone else knows your game is stupid?”
“I watched three whole 49ers games with you back when they were decent!” Lance pointed out.
“Yes, and that’s why I agreed to be your best man instead of Bobbis,” Mack said. He paused before adding, “I regret that now.”
“Ouch,” Lance said with a frown. “That hurts mate, best man is a commitment for life!”
“Like marriage?” Mack clarified. Lance gave him as dry a look as he could muster and Mack shrugged, popping a pretzel into his mouth on his way out the door.
-
The pre-game coverage was mostly over by the time Fitz showed up. Lance was about to heckle him for it, but froze upon catching a glimpse of the scientist.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He demanded, words coming out before he could stop to think.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Fitz returned with a deep frown. Lance was decked out in red, the liver bird emblazoned proudly on the front of his shirt.
“What kind of Scott is a bloody MannU fan?” Lance exclaimed. Fitz not only wore the jersey and a cap, but a rugby scarf in all the colors with the emblem stitched into it.
“What kind of human would ever ro-root for Liverpool!” Fitz replied.
“Unbelievable,” Lance groaned, sinking down across the couch and onto the floor in a dramatic slump. “The one time I convince Skye to hook me up to watch the lads and I have to share with a bloody Red Demon.”
“Red Devil,” Fitz corrected.
“Tell me about it,” Lance replied. He didn’t look up to see Fitz’ eye roll, but he assumed it was there anyway.
“Shove up,” Fitz said, nudging Lance’s prone form aside enough to make room for his feet. “Match is almost on.”
-
The game is a rough one, meaning it’s the best kind to watch. There’s two red cards, one fan that darts across the field(a United fan of course), and one single goal. Like most of the games this season, it happened at the very end.
The shot was taken and the keeper flew left but the ball scraped past the pads of his fingertips as it whirled past and landed securely in the net. Lance groaned, but even before he could get too worked up about it, Fitz left to his feet with a loud cheer. Once he regained his footing, he gave another hop and punched the air in glee. He started chanting ’20 Times’ triumphantly, face bright with a smile.
And Lance could never tell his mom, or god, or the good good John Houldin, but the L was worth it.
-
“I don’t think that counts,” Mack told Lance doubtfully the following afternoon.“Yes it does,” Lance replied. “Shush up.”
3. The Enemy of My Friend (or the Friend of my Friend or the Friend of my Enemy)
Things somewhat changed when Simmons and her she-devil bodyguard return from their spying. Lance was expecting this to be honest. He had heard a lot about Simmons - and most important, Fitzsimmons - during his time on base. Mostly from people other than Fitz himself. He had mentioned her every now and again in an offhand sort of way, and nearly all of his stories that involved a ‘we’ or an ‘us’ involved her, but Lance didn’t know a lot about Simmons as seen by Fitz. He just knows that they’re a matched set and everyone was hoping that when Simmons finally came back, Fitz would get “better” whatever the hell that meant. Fitz was fantastic as far as Lance was concerned and - as he confided somewhat bitterly to Mack one night - it seemed that for all SHIELD may be or might have been, no one there seemed to understand a bloody thing about trauma or the fact that people and circumstances changed.
The point was that for all he had heard and not heard, Lance himself did have some preconceived ideas of what things would be like when Simmons was back in the SHIELD fold. Mostly - he wasn’t embarrassed to admit - as to how things would change for him. The rare occasions when Fitz joined them for lunch, or game night, or a quick dinner, or an ill-advised lojacking of Lola at 2am because they were that close to the most amazing private cove off of The Big Island and Lance just had to show Fitz Daisy and Mack, or… well, point is that those spare moments of free time would likely go to Simmons. Daisy would certainly rather lunch with her, and why would Fitz not spend all of his free time with his other half?
So when Simmons did return with a blazing whirlwind who had once been married to Lance, things weren’t quite as simple as all of that. Lance had never known Fitz before the fall of SHIELD but he liked to think he had gotten to know him alright since they’d met. And to his discerning eye it seemed as though Fitz were almost… allergic to Simmons. He crumbled whenever he was around her, probably burying himself in his own expectations and those that others had for him. So, it became increasingly clear to Lance that were he to continue in his quest to put and keep a smile on Fitz’ face, the man should not be left alone with Simmons.
It wasn’t her fault really, and Lance could acknowledge this - and the fact that she seemed to be having almost as bad a time - but Lance’s primary focus was Fitz. He knew Fitz, liked Fitz, and because of that he needed to ensure that someone was there for Fitz. Preferably someone like Mack or himself, who had no pre-established mental image of who Fitz was supposed to be.
But Mack was being kept busy by Coulson constantly it seemed, and Lance couldn’t be there every time someone threw the two scientists together, but the looming shadow of who the perfect third for this mission would be was hovering over him constantly. Bobbi. His ex-wife got along well with Fitz, and seemed to adore Simmons about as much as she did her. She could also be, he acknowledged grudgingly, a good person who would understand - and she did, when he finally brought it up. Like Mack and him, she had noticed the air of discomfort surrounding ‘Fitzsimmons’ and also like them, Bobbi had spent her share of time adapting to shitty circumstances and dealing with people who didn’t get it.
Bobbi was also far better at inserting herself naturally into situations than Lance was. She could always find a reason to casually pop in to ask Simmons a question, or get Fitz’ opinion on something, or start up a rousing debate about who would be in each Hogwarts house. Mack’s strategy was to diffuse any possibly situation by calling Fitz away to do something else and give him a way out, and Lance was more apt to just take a swan dive into the general area and see how things went from there.
It did seem to help though, and by about the first month of SHIELD since Simmons’ Return, Fitz pulled Lance aside.
“You don’t have to… k-keep doing this,” he said hesitantly while Bobbi demanded how Simmons could possibly sort Coulson to any house but Slytherin. Lance didn’t try to predicate on the issue and crossed his arms.
“I can stop if we’re bothering you,” he said.
“N-no, of course not!” Fitz was quick to deny, before glancing around and lowering his voice. “It’s not a bother… I-I’m just sure that… you have be- other things to do than st-stand around holding my hand,” he muttered, looking off to the side.
“Fitz,” Lance said, going to put a hand on his shoulder before remembering that Fitz did not care for that and aborting it halfway though, “You are my friend. I would help you with anything, and you need a little backup right now and that’s okay. Besides, I would use any excuse to hang out with you — and Simmons, of course,” he added. Fitz seemed kind of flustered but he nodded.
“Sure,” he said softly.
“You’re never an inconvenience, mate,” Lance assured him. Fitz cleared his throat.
“Right then,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “And it has been… helpful? so… th-thank you.” He gave Lance the smallest of earnest smiles before turning and going back to his lab.
Lance stood there another few minutes.
4. The Requisite Montage
Lance had a mission where he had to pretend to be a scientist and he was - of course -a professional. But even he could admit that it could’ve gone more smoothly. It was with this in mind that he approached Fitz one evening after dinner to bring the man a scientist - he had been MIA from the dining area since he started on his latest project that was some sort of drone thing - and ask for assistance.
“Hey there Mate,” he said, knocking lightly on the door frame. Fitz looked up from his hologram. “I come bearing food and a favor.”
“A favor for me?” Fitz clarified, tilting his head slightly as he took the sandwich.
“Nah, a favor from you,” Lance corrected. Fitz shrugged and motioned for him to continue, mouth full of sandwich. “I need you to teach me nerd stuff.”
Fitz quirked an eyebrow.
“I just had to do some undercover at a research lab and I think I could have done better at blending in with the squints, yeah?”
“What are you… wanting?” Fitz asked, setting the sandwich on a tiny clear space that wasn’t covered in files or mechanical detritus. Lance handed him an apple.
“I was thinking on that,” Lance said. “And with basic and when I first got in on this nonsense, there was something of a… training regime. Did you have something like that on the big brain side?”
“I suppose,” Fitz said. “I can think of a few things like that we h-had to do, yeah.”
“Would you be willing to help me out?”
“Well,” Fitz said slowly, considering. “Sure but c-could you… maybe help me train on some m-more…. ah…. hand… physical things?”
“Like an exchange of knowledge?” Lance said. “Sure, sounds fun.”
“Really?” Fitz asked, looking somewhat startled. “You-you’re not going to try and talk me out of it?”
“… why?” Lance said. “I don’t mean to be glib, mate, I just can’t think of any reason anyone would talk you out of some self-defense training. I can also show you some handy escape tactics if you’re ever trapped in a gas station loo or a small county jail cell.”
Fitz blinked.
“When would I ever…?” He started. Lance shrugged.
“You’d be surprised.”
-
A few days later Fitz met Lance outside of one of the training rooms on the third floor. Since they were training, Fitz was in a basic tac suit and Lance was certainly not going to point out how flattering it was on him or how Fitz’ shoulders filled out the suit nicely.
“We’ll start with holds I think,” Lance mused, buzzing them into the room. “As a squint you’ll probably not be in a straight-up combat situation, but enemy combatants are rather boring in their strategies and I wouldn’t put it past them to try to use you as leverage.” He stretched out his arms. “They used to do it to Bobbi all the time when she was doing lab work more often than field work. Nasty surprise for them.”
“I can imagine,” Fitz said with a frown.
-
After three months Lance was starting to get the hang of the nerd thing. He was comfortable enough with the terminology and equipped with a few fail-safe ways to distract anyone that got too curious. Fitz had even run him through the Periodic Table ‘game’ he and Simmons were so fond of a few times. Lance had been doing really well until Bobbi sat down next to them at dinner and told him that was the sexiest she had ever seen him.
For his part, Fitz picked up knowledge like a sponge. That was no surprise, but with some focused training he got very very good at disarming attackers. The scientist was always thinking on his feet, it was just about applying those skills to a more interactive physical aspect. He was practically MacGyver about it.
He was still very nervous during holds though. Even when he insisted on practicing them, he froze up when Lance would grab him during exercises, needing a moment to center himself. A moment he wouldn’t have, he frequently muttered to himself, in a combat situation.
“We could try another simulation?” Lance suggested near the tail-end of a session. Fitz shook his head.
“No,” he said. “But I need something d-different. Can you….” He paused for just a moment. “Like a surprise. Sparring and then a grab, so I’m not preparing for it but it’s not still a… a surprise.”
“Right,” Lance said. “I can do that.”
After a beat he charged at Fitz and the began the spar. The thing was, Fitz was about the same size as Lance. When he stood he had started to look more comfortable - standing straighter, less like he wanted to hide away. But still, people always acted as though Fitz were much smaller than he were, Lance himself had fallen into that trap too before he’d actually gotten to know the man. When Fitz fought, he seemed bigger than he was, forcefully trying to end the conflict and being fairly effective at it. But Lance was his own brand of professional, and within a few minutes had Fitz in a hold from behind.
This time, there wasn’t even a pause before Fitz adjusted and managed to shift and throw Lance ass-over-teakettle into the wall.
“Shit!” He exclaimed, from the ground, shooting Fitz a smile. “That was fantastic!”
“Are you alright?” Fitz asked, looking a little out-of-breath.
“Yeah mate, I know how to fall. You are fast though, almost didn’t have time to adjust!”
“I didn’t even think about it,” Fitz admitted. “I just… reacted.”
“Well it was textbook,” Lance told him, accepting the other man’s hand up. “How did it feel?”
“… really good,” Fitz admitted with a smile. He shifted slightly and ran a hand over his face. “I guess I might be getting the hang of things.”
“I’ll say,” Lance said. “And I think you owe me a beer now.”
“I don’t know about that,” Fitz said, sounding amused.
5. The Wingman Approach
The Winter Hols were upon them all and it was hard to resist the cheer in the air. Through the halls was a swarth of tinsel, holly, glitter, a lot of menorahs, snowflakes, random candles that were probably hazards considering the number of pine trees that had popped up, and a handful of wooden clogs in random places that Lance kept tripping over.
Despite the stubbed toes, he was indeed feeling jolly. Everyone had fallen into a new rhythm. Coulson seemed to have a better handle on things, and after months of awkward maneuvering, Fitz and Simmons had re-established a rapport.
It was with this in mind that Lance formulated the next plan in his quest for Fitz’ smile.
Namely: mistletoe.
It was an obvious choice, but in that classic Stairway to Heaven kind of way where even if it was cheesy it was effective. Lance knew that Fitz was in love with Simmons - it was one of the first things he had ever told him - and what was a better gift than getting your mate a kiss from the girl he adored? Lance couldn’t think of any, and he had tried.
With the help of one of the Koenigs, Lance had managed to get his hands on several sprigs of the stuff, and using his own knowledge of the squints - and a blueprint that Daisy had given him a few weeks back - Lance had determined the best locations for optimal Fitzsimmons collision.
It didn’t really go as planned. There were a few things he expected that did come to pass: Mack hit his head on a few, Tripp became a hot commodity for hallway strolls, and he got some pretty suspicious looks from Bobbi. The main objective, however, was not being met.
Lance had actually been passing by the first time the opportunity had arisen. He was grabbing coffee from the secret fancy machine that May kept in a secret alcove near Coulson’s fake office. He could hear Simmons’ laugh and he tucked himself back in for the best view.
Around the corner, Simmons was the first in view, animatedly telling a story. Daisy was behind her, elbowing Fitz about something. Just before Simmons reached the spot under the mistletoe, Daisy froze.
“Stop!,” she exclaimed, diving forward to push Simmons forward, “Mistletoe!!”
Simmons stumbled out of range and Daisy stood under it instead, eyes darting around suspiciously.
“Really now,” Simmons huffed. “How juvenile.”
For his part, Fitz came stock still. Lance could see him take a deep breath, his hand tightened around his arms where he had reverted to a somewhat huddled stance. Daisy blasted the sprig down, and the three went on their way.
It was the last anyone saw hide or hair of Fitz for three days.
-
Lance had regrets. Fitz was holed up in his room. Bobbi and Mack were pissed at him, Daisy was lurking, and Simmons had spent nearly as much time in her lab as Fitz had in his room. It was there that Lance went, tail between his legs. Fitz did not respond to his knocks.
“Hey there love,” he said once she looked over at him. She narrowed her eyes.
“Hello,” she said.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said. “As I feel my plan may have gone off the rails a bit.”
“Does that sound like an apology to you?” Simmons asked.
“No,” Lance admitted. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it would go, and I should have thought more about could happen before I tried it. I knew this was a sensitive issue for him and I screwed it up.”
“Better,” Simmons decided with a nod. “I’m not sure what your plan was, but I don’t think you had any ill intent. Fitz and I are never going to be romantic, and it was difficult for us to come to terms with that and figure it out, and unfortunately mistletoe just brings back the awkwardness because no one else seems to have accepted that just because we are best friends doesn’t mean we’re fated to marry.”
“I’m sorry,” Lance repeated with a wince.
“I think you were trying to be sweet actually,” she mused. “Never do that again.”
-
Lance had taken down the majority of the sprigs by the time he got to the one in the mess.
“Hey Bobbi, look at that,” Mack said from somewhere to Lance’s left as he tried to swat down the mistletoe with a jump rather than pulling over a chair to stand on.
“It looks like our tiny adorable spy is having some trouble,” Bobbi relied from his right.
“Hush up you two,” he grumbled. There was a pause as they came closer, “what?”
Then, simultaneously, Mack and Bobbi leaned down to kiss him on each cheek and to his eternal mortification, Lance felt his face flush.
“Oi!” He exclaimed.
“Just trying to help you spread some cheer,” Mack said with a shrug. He and Bobbi high-fived. Then, with a boost from Mack, Bobbi hopped up and grabbed down the mistletoe.
“Fa la la la la,” she added, handing it to him. The two giants walked off, chortling like a pair of mustache-twirling cartoon villains.
Lance turned to pout at them, but as he did he caught sight of a trio at one of the tables who had watched the display. Daisy was smirking at him, clearly happy at his embarrassment. Simmons, too, looked pleased. Beside them, Fitz was also watching with a faint air of amusement. He wasn’t quite smiling… but close.
He may, Lance mused as he added the latest bunch to his bag of mistletoe, have an idea.
-
“May,” Lance said. “What a surprise! You seem to have gotten caught in the mistletoe just as I was removing it!”
It wasn’t a coincidence. Lance had appealed to her soft spot for Fitz and she had allowed him a bit of her time. Lance could just see Fitz back by the wall of window, and he had paused to watch. Perfect. Lance wasn’t positive about this one, he had put it up near the training rooms and frankly Fitz was only ever over there when he and Lance were training.
“Hunter,” May said shortly, “are you sure you’re prepared for this?”
“No,” Lance replied. “No I’m not.”
“You should have considered that,” she said with a sigh. She plucked the sprig of mistletoe from his hands and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.
Lance gave a theatrical gasp, throwing a hand to his chest.
“Too glorious!” He exclaimed, sinking to the ground. May smirked at him and flicked the mistletoe onto his chest.
“See you later kid,” she added as she strolled away.
Was Fitz smiling? Lance hoped so, but for the bit he had to hold the pose at least another minute.
“You’re very dramatic,” Fitz said. Lance opened his eyes to see the scientist leaning over him.
“Thank you,” Lance replied, taking the proffered hand up. “I think.”
“You know how to put on show I suppose,” Fitz said with a smile. “And I’m glad these things c-can make me smile.”
“Me too,” Lance replied with a smile of his own. Fitz nodded slightly, and then walked away.
+1 THIS is how you use Mistletoe.
“Hey Hunter,” Fitz said, walking over to the couch. Lance paused the game and smiled up at him.
“What’s up, mate?” He asked. “Care for a game of Forza?”
“Nah, I’m headed up to meet Daisy in a minute, I Was just thinking of something,” Fitz said. Lance nodded for him to continue. “C-could you close your eyes for a second?”
Lance closed his eyes.
“You’re not… q- no questions?” Fitz asked, sounding surprised.
“I trust you,” Lance said with a shrug.
“Right,” Fitz said, sounding slightly flustered. “Ah, you can open them.”
Fitz was holding a thing of mistletoe between them. Lance blinked, at a loss for words.
“Simmons told me what you did,” Fitz said. “It was sweet but, ah, misguided?” He said. Watching carefully, Fitz slowly leaned forward and Lance met him the last bit.
It was a sweet kiss, short, but still deep in a way. Lance still had his eyes closed when Fitz pulled back.
“Thanks Hunter,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”
-
a few minutes later, Mack wandered in with a bag of pretzels and some beer.
“Hey,” he said, tossing one to Lance. “What’s with that dopey smile on your face?”
“Oh,” Lance said, blinking. “I hadn’t realized I was smiling.”