Work Text:
Scotland, 1998
In the bright light of day, Leopold Fitz shifted his heavy bag over his shoulder and swept sweat off his pale skin. His bag was simply too heavy for a ten-year-old. However, when father demanded that he carry it for him, Fitz knew better than to deny him, especially when he had the rare opportunity of the reward he was at now—the zoo.
Around him, there were other children with their parents laughing and talking as they milled about. One little girl his age was only a few feet from him and seemed just as excited as he felt about the monkeys nearby. Fitz wanted to smile at her and let her know that she had a kindred spirit. Something about her mahogany hair in the sunlight and pretty, freckled face seemed familiar, but Fitz couldn’t put his finger on it before her mother called.
“Jemma!”
Without even the slightest notice of the strange pale boy staring at her, Jemma disappeared to join her mother. Nervously glancing behind himself, Fitz shuffled to where she was at the monkey exhibition. He couldn’t quite see over the bars. With another glance behind, he bit his lip and leaned over.
“Keep your back straight, Leopold. Hunch any more and you might as well be bending over. Like that monkey.”
Fitz looked where his father was pointing. It was a baboon bent over, presenting its posterior to a male.
Alistair Fitz glared sternly down at his son. “Are you a monkey?”
Fitz was tempted to say he was a in a way and that it wasn’t much of an insult since on average, monkeys were more kind than humans. The humans at his school at least. “…No.”
Alistair nodded approvingly before straightening his collar. “Ugh, you can see its cunt.”
“Um…” Fitz said hesitantly.
“What?”
“It’s—it’s not a…”
“Just speak, boy. Your mother only had you for the weekend and you’re already copying her.”
“It’s not—it doesn’t have a—it actually has a scrotum.”
“A what?”
“It’s a boy monkey.”
Alistair twisted his lips as he looked. “Ah, disgusting. I’ll have to talk to the zookeeper about this. Come along, Leopold. We still have another half hour of this before we get to your judo lesson. You’ve been doing your exercises while at your mother’s?”
“Yes, father.”
“Do you need more arnica before we go?”
Fitz’s hand trembled as he resisted stretching his back, exacerbating the bruise from father’s last disciplinary lesson. He shook his head. No sign of weakness or it gets worse.
“Good, we’ll get you in shape before your time at the academy.”
London Sci-Ops Academy, 2008
Ophelia leaned closer to Leopold’s neck as he examined the microcircuit on the desk. Leopold’s attention slightly wavered as he inhaled her vanilla scent and felt her raven tresses brush his shoulder. She whispered in his ear, “Can you thread it correctly? We need it wearable presenting to Garrett.”
“It’ll be done when it’s done.”
Glancing up, Leopold saw that Ophelia’s eyes seemed to flash with something. He then remembered something his mother once said. “I’ll finish it. You’ll be all right in time.”
Sometimes, people aren’t looking for a solution. They just need reassurance from someone they trust. Leopold didn’t know why Ophelia trusted him so much or why someone so pretty always seemed to linger around him, but he was a little thankful for the company since people at the academy were just the same as at school. They just didn’t understand him or were just jealous of his genius. Not Ophelia. She was the only one to recognize and celebrate his genius the way she never questioned his wild experiment ideas or complimented his work. It was why he kept going back and forth on asking her to dinner. Actual dinner. Somewhere…nice.
“Thank you, Leopold. You’re always so dependable.” Ophelia’s fingers lightly trailed over the top of his hand. Leopold allowed himself the temporary weakness of an open smile. All he needed was her.
Well, Ophelia or his chat pen-pal in the New York Sci-ops. Speaking of…
Fitz began checking his email.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Biology Lessons
Dear Zaius (I refuse to call you doctor just yet),
I’m still out of luck on my samples this week and my second dissertation needs to be on schedule! Ugh, I wish I could follow your advice and go for some scones, but I’ve been careful to avoid any unnecessary sugar or carbs.
I can hear you right now, Zaius. I may not have heard your voice in person, but I have a perfect mental impression recorded since your voice even written is just that unmistakably judgmental. I’m not being vain, Zaius. Sugar is a substance that needs to be carefully consumed. You wouldn’t believe what Americans do to virtually every food possible. I never even knew that you could combine fried chicken with a waffle and maple syrup of all things. It’s like they want to lead the world in diabetes!
I know you’ll love them so I’ll have to see if I can send one to London as thanks for fixing my engineering partner’s design last week. Or perhaps revenge. Don’t think I didn’t notice all the little drawings of cabbage in the corners of the sheets. Milton is perfectly nice and agreeable. He’s been very supportive. For instance, we’re about to do some testing on monkeys and I have my reservations on their safety, but we do need them to pass onto the next phase.
Still…there are risks…How is it in London?
Yours,
Crookshanks
Fitz’s smile widened on his face. Of course, Crookshanks would notice the cabbages. In his defense, it wasn’t his fault that Milton had that profile image so public. It was just bad genetics and social media management. He didn’t mean to look the idiot up but honestly, he needed to check if Crookshanks was surrounded by people at her superior level which he was delighted to find out was exactly his own level. He began to write back.
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Biology Lessons
Judgmental? I believe you’re confusing the word with “taste”. Sugar does help the brain. You’ve seen the studies on neurotransmitters and proper glucose provision to your neurons.
After all, who doesn’t think better after tea with some sugar? Regardless, I’m sorry to hear about your samples. I know how frustrating it is to not be within deadline of a project. I’m currently helping Ophelia with hers. She’s leaning on me and I hate to disappoint. As for the monkeys…
Leopold paused. He knew what was pragmatic and best for scientific advancement, but he also still thought of monkeys as one of those precious few innocent things not to be disturbed.
Do what you feel best. I trust your judgment. London is fine and---d
“Leopold?”
“Yes, Ophelia?”
“I believe someone is here to see you.”
Leopold looked up. It was Garrett and another man that was only a few years older than himself with a short cut and well-defined jawline. Part of him couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t the only thing well defined.
“Hello there, Leopold. I was just showing around one of our new combat TA’s around. He’ll be assigned to you next week. Meet Hunter.”
Leopold reached out his hand to shake.
“He’s a proper one, eh?”
“Hunter…”
“Sorry, if he ain’t a cricket enthusiast, then I’m all about Man U.”
Leopold smirked. “Welcome to the Busby boys. We’re always happy to have another.”
Hunter’s eyes flashed with mischievous energy. “Liverpool, mate.”
“Ah, I’ll buy you a pint to cry in on Wednesday then.”
The two grinned at each other. Returning to his work, Fitz was surprised to see Ophelia’s eyes darting from his face to the two leaving the room. Her beautiful face was almost inhumanly stony. Her lips were a flat line.
“Anything wrong, Ophelia?”
The instant change in expression took Fitz aback. Her reassuring smile was almost too perfect.
“No. Just need to correct something a bit.”
London Sci-Ops Academy, 2010
“What’s wrong, mate?” Hunter tossed a towel at Leopold’s head as they entered the sauna. “Is it Ophelia?”
“No, well yes. But not specifically, no. It’s Crookshanks.” Leopold stretched his back and massaged the sore parts. He knew he’d been gaining more lean muscle, but it didn’t mean he’d enjoy it too much at the cost of lab time and the ability to sit comfortably. “What?”
Lance’s eyes darted away to the towel around his waist and adjusted it. “Nothing, mate.”
“She keeps asking me what I think about…scientific ethics. Like how far can we push a boundary. She asked me about monkeys a while ago and we both came to conclusion that sometimes progress requires some sacrifice. Ophelia really helped me settle on that after, well…”
“Well, there’s sacrifice and then there’s Auschwitz, mate.”
Leopold’s eyes flickered guiltily. Lance didn’t know about the next steps to come. SHIELD was just too weak to take on what needed to be done. However, he could convince Lance that the path coming was the right one. Ophelia would help. She helped him understand what needed to be done for their future together and to make his father proud of the man he’d become in HYDRA.
“So what’s going on with Ophelia?”
Leopold shrugged. “Just the usual. Says that I’m not spending more time with her but we both agreed we’re both extremely busy with our meetings and work. To that, she just claims I’m just spending it with you. Calls you my work husband.”
Lance laughed. For some reason, Lance’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, imagine that.”
The Triskelion, 2013
“Crookshanks hasn’t emailed me in a while…”
Ophelia glanced up from her tablet in the car. “And?”
“It’s just…unusual. We’ve both been busy and although we decided not to share all but the most transparent details about where we are in SHIELD to protect classifications…I feel like we’re getting more distant. She was telling me about some serum she was working on. Supposed to help people in a big way and how it would boost her career but had to keep quiet…I understand I suppose.”
“Nonsense, you’re getting higher up and so is she. We’ve been recruited for the STRIKE division with you as the engineering head for weapons development. You’re very important now.”
Leopold barked a laugh. “You’re the only one to not say it sarcastically.”
“Hunter.”
“He’s supposed to be my security. Not my critic.”
“Oh,” Ophelia said lightly. Her eyes were very focused on her tablet. “Well, you are his superior. It isn’t appropriate that he share his opinion as bluntly as that.”
Leopold nodded. She was right. He had to take control and avoid showing any weakness, no matter what. No relationship was worth it. Even ones with charming, roguish smirks and shared taste in beer.
“What are you working on? Can it wait until after we get dinner and head to the hotel?”
Ophelia finally looked at him with a strangely inhuman hunger and curiosity. “Nothing that can’t wait. Especially since I’ve convinced a new brilliant head scientist to take a look.”
Her hands set down the tablet to unbuckle her seatbelt in the back of the car. The driver up front closed the blinds. Ophelia had a wolfish grin as she slid one alabaster smooth leg over his lap, her pencil skirt riding up her thighs. Leopold felt his pulse rise as he savagely captured her lips in a struggle for power.
Before applying his deft fingers to the last button of her top, he noticed the words on her tablet. What was GHB-325 and who was Jemma Simmons?
The HUB, 2014
“I’m resigning. Let’s have a last one for the road.”
“No.” Leopold said flatly. He didn’t bother looking away from his holotable in the lab.
“Wha—I’m leaving. You can’t stop me.” Lance crossed his arms and glared at Leopold.
“I can and I am. Why are you even contemplating this? You’ve got a good compensation package, a full team…”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I had all that waiting for me at a dozen different private security firms. Plus I wouldn’t have to deal with all the bloody red tape and paperwork. Do you know why I stayed here?”
Leopold didn’t meet Lance’s gaze. “No. It honestly makes no sense if that’s the situation.”
Lance’s voice was gentle. “The reason why has nothing to do with ‘sense’, Fitz.”
“It’s Leopold.”
Leopold heard nothing back until he looked up and found Lance standing right next to him. He then knelt next to Leopold’s chair and held his hand.
“No, it’s not. You told me to say Fitz a few nights…”
For a moment, a glimmer of the inner Fitz leaked out. The devoted and caring romantic deep down. “I have Ophelia.”
“And now you’ve said the answer to your next question…” Lance looked at Fitz expectantly.
“Why are you now leaving?”
“I’ll always be there for you. And you can always leave. I don’t know what you’ve got planned with Ophelia—Don’t look at me like that. I’m your work husband. And maybe…something more. I don’t know the details but…I just want to remind you there’s always a way out.”
Fitz leaned closer to Lance’s face. “I…thank you.”
Lance’s eyes were half-lidded until they weren’t.
Boom!
A tall black man in a tattered SHIELD uniform with glowing red eyes walked into the room. On his forearm was a missile aimed at Leopold. There was no other choice for Lance.
It was too late for Leopold to activate his EMP. It was also over too soon. Fitz kicked the twitching cyborg body off of Hunter. He vaguely recognized the corpse as Mike Peterson. It was one of Coulson’s loose agents. He’d deal with that later. For now, he held Hunter’s limp body in his arms. Lance’s lips were moving and Fitz leaned closer to listen. His ear feeling the same tingles from his warm breath.
He couldn’t hear anything. Fitz then turned his head to face Lance, who immediately brushed his lips against his. Hunter wasn’t trying to get him to hear better. He wanted Fitz’s face close enough.
Last one for the road.
Hunter’s head fell back and Fitz’s lips tried to follow but stopped. No point now.
The Triskelion, 2014
Ophelia smiled brightly as she saw her beloved walk into her office. She leaned back against the desk as she took in his new three piece suit, sharply tailored and pressed. His lean figure moved with almost fluid mechanical strength. His beautiful blue eyes were something that she could never invent on her own and she couldn’t wait to gaze into them with her own physical ones someday.
“Madame.”
She couldn’t help the smirk on her face. It was all so perfect now. “Was the academy cleansed?”
“Yes. Last one to go was their biological science division. We had to scrub their staff and remaining test stock.”
Ophelia already knew that as well as the demise of any dissenters in the biological division. She knew it was only a facsimile, but she kept footage of the one the raid was intended for. It would go alongside the one of Mike Peterson’s raid. It wasn’t easy arranging that prison transfer. She couldn’t help but ask. “No more monkeys?”
Leopold’s face was blank. “No more monkeys.”