Work Text:
It was half past nine on a beautiful Sunday morning in Perthshire, and Leopold Fitz was exhausted. He’d been up for hours, feeding, caring for, and entertaining his daughter, Alya. She was four years old now, and she began her long, carefree days of play at six o’clock sharp, right as the sun was rising, and ended them with tired eyes as it set. Being retired, Fitz had taken over her care and spent almost every passing minute with her. And most of the time, he really couldn’t be happier.
It was then that the very familiar drone of the song “Baby Shark” was heard throughout the little cottage, for the tenth time that day. He moaned and put his face into his hands. Alya was absolutely and entirely obsessed with all things marine life; to the point where she had a brand new drawing pad of paper filled with crayon pictures of new fish designs. It was adorable really. Fitz loved her interest in sealife and science, especially the designing, being an engineer himself. No, none of that was the problem. The problem was the song. She would play it non-stop until one of them distracted her with something more entertaining and interesting- but it was becoming harder and harder to do so. Jemma thought it was sweet, really, and she told Fitz herself that it was probably just a phase. “All children go through them; I know I did!” was her cheerful response to his pleading complaints.
He watched her now, sitting on the sofa, reading the new letter from Daisy and Daniel- Sousa, as they liked to call him. Her dark brown hair was freshly brushed, and it fell gently around her shoulders. He’d always loved how she did her hair; always so soft to the touch. Everything about it was so natural and beautiful. As his gaze drifted across the coffee table strewn with Alya’s crayon drawings and animal books, his daughter’s sweet little voice called out from her bedroom. “Daddy, daddy! Listen to my favourite song!” she giggled, and ran out of the little room towards him, carrying her little tablet. Jemma got it for her for educational purposes and she was already far ahead of an average four-year-olds knowledge level. Fitz knew what was coming, of course, but he comedically pretended he didn’t, for his daughter’s own amusement. “Oh? Whatever song could it be??” He held his hands out in confusion, masking his face with a puzzled expression. Alya laughed and hit the play button with her chubby, pale fingers.
🎵 Baby shark do do, do do do do, Baby shark do do, do do do doo… 🎵
“It’s Baby Shark!!” The little girl shrieked with excitement as she danced around the living room. Jemma looked up, a soft smile upon her face as she watched her daughter play. Fitz sighed, his fingers clutched upon the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Yes, yes, it’s a very fun song Alya..” He looked over to his wife, and Simmons watched him suspiciously. Sighing once more, Fitz got up off the couch and crouched down so he was level with the little bundle of joy- and her beautiful hazel eyes. He reached a hand out and stroked her soft, short blonde hair and pink cheeks. “But do you know what happens when you play songs too many times?” He winked at her, a mischievous smile growing upon his own face. His daughter stopped dancing for a moment, confused, turning to watch her father. “What??” she asked, suddenly curious. Fitz stood up and rolled up his sleeves. “Well, little girls’ who overplay songs to annoy their father’s ultimately get..” he paused for dramatic effect, and Alya made a little noise.
“No tickling!” She ran towards Jemma, who was smiling now, knowing exactly what Fitz was doing. “Mummy, tell him no more!” Alya tried to climb on top of her mother’s lap, and Jemma lifted her back up, setting her on the floor. Fitz was smiling now as well. “Tickle wars!” he called out, his voice echoing throughout the entirety of the house. Alya shrieked and started running down the hallway, but he was much faster than the four-year old. Fitz scooped her up into his arms and started tickling her. Under her chin, the bottoms of her feet, even under her kneecaps.. and his daughter shrieked with laughter. “Daddy, daddy no more!” She cried out, giggling uncontrollably. Jemma watched from the couch, laughing. Fitz looked down at her little face. “Do you promise no more baby shark songs?” He tickled her stomach and she shrieked. “I PROMISE!” Laughing, he tapped her on the nose and set her down gently. “Alright now.. but remember, if I hear that song again.. There WILL be more tickles.” Alya screamed, still laughing uncontrollably, and got up, running out the sliding glass door into the backyard. “No more tickles!” She shrieked as she ran barefoot onto the grass.
Fitz smiled, crossing his arms as he watched his daughter play on her swing-set. He looked back at Simmons, who was watching him with one of her soft, teary-eyed smiles. “I always knew you’d make an amazing father.” She said quietly, reaching for his hand. He let her take it, wrapping his fingers around her own- which were cold to the touch. Fitz raised her hands to his lips and blew on them gently before kissing her fingertips, and Jemma smiled. He sat down beside her, and let Jemma lean against him, Fitz’s own arm pulling her close.
The two sat quietly for a moment, the fire in the hearth warming the little house as they watched Alya run around outside, her cheeks pink with a smile. “We do make amazing children.” Fitz murmured, looking down at his wife, who was curled into his side. Jemma looked up at him as their eyes met. “We have a beautiful daughter, who has the best dad anyone could ask for.” She smiled softly, and he looked away modestly. “I couldn’t have done any of it without her mother.” Jemma’s eyes were teary, and her gaze returned to the window, where she sat watching her little girl play, only happiness in her eyes. She was their everything.
Alya Daisy.