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Jemma Simmons was well aware of the notions that people had about her and Fitz. Not just that they were two halves of a whole, but that they’d inevitably complete the metaphor by getting together. After all they finished each other’s sentences, shared the same interests and she knew how to make his favorite sandwich...love must be imminent, right? If only they knew that her interest, her heart, was turned in a different direction.
She sighed and watched as Skye’s eyes sparkled with that knowing, mischievous gleam they got whenever she thought Fitzsimmons wasn’t looking. She knew it was Skye’s darling wish that she and Fitz would realize they belonged together. She supposed pairing the two of them up must be dramatic entertainment for the collared hacker. It’s not that Jemma hadn’t tried to like Fitz in that way. They had even gone on a few dates when they were both at the academy but it hadn’t worked the way she and he and everyone else had hoped. There was no spark of heat between them, no magnetic attraction...and though Fitz had been, perhaps, a bit more disappointed than she, they had both agreed to stay just friends.
She couldn’t help feel annoyed that her coworkers still assumed they were a couple after years of collegial, platonic friendship. It didn’t help that this perception worked against her when she so desperately wished to be seen as desirable and available to another member of the team.
--
Barring the advent of an urgent mission or world saving event Tuesday nights were movie night on the bus. Agent Coulson had suggested it as a team bonding exercise and because he really wanted to see the new Bond movie. It had continued and became an essential ritual for them, a way of decompressing and setting aside the concerns that usually weighed them down. The team rotated who got to choose the film and tonight was Jemma’s choice. She heard Ward and May groan as she approached the Blu-ray player, disc in hand.
“What? You don’t even know what I’ve picked yet!”
Skye snickered as May replied, “Is it a 1990s romantic comedy?”
Jemma turned with her hands on her hips, “It might not be!”
Ward let out another playful groan and sank deeper in the cushions of the couch he shared with May and Fitz, Skye was seated in the recliner off to the side. For the first time Jemma realized that left the love seat for her and Coulson to share. She felt a little thrill trace up her spine at the idea of spending an hour and a half seated cozily next to him in a darkened room.
Jemma had always found herself fancying older men. She’d cherished many a dear, hopeless crush on her professors in college but on joining Agent Coulson’s team she found herself for the first time attracted to another SHIELD agent. She was well aware of the implication of fancying a man who could pass as her father, but she found she didn’t care. Logically, she knew that this crush would never turn into anything more, no matter how much she wished Coulson would look at her that way, so it was harmless to indulge. Had she studiously researched SHIELD’s HR code searching for a policy on fraternization between junior and senior agents? Sure, but really who hadn’t? That HR code was fascinating reading. She felt the corners of her mouth quirk up as Coulson walked in and plopped onto the loveseat watching her expectantly. She popped in the DVD and bounced to her seat where she sat just this side of too close to the senior officer. Like the gentlemen he was he just smiled and turned towards the screen where the extended opening credits to You’ve Got Mail were playing.
“Classic Simmons!” he exclaimed and reached toward the large bowl of popcorn sitting on the coffee table.
As the movie continued Jemma watched him from the corner of her eye, his profile lit by the bluish glow of the T.V. screen. Slowly, so slowly, she leaned an inch closer inhaling the scent of his cologne. He always smelled so good. He was sans suit jacket and the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up to the elbows. His forearms are so masculine! The muscle beneath the tan skin hinting at the definition of his biceps further up. He wasn’t ripped like Ward, of course, but she wouldn’t want that. He was fit...and wonderful. She wondered, in very specific detail, what he might look like in a t-shirt and jeans, or maybe a t-shirt and boxer-briefs...or…
Get a hold of yourself, lady! she scolded internally.
She snapped her head a bit too abruptly back toward the screen. She felt rather than saw Coulson’s questioning gaze upon her. In response she shrugged and reached into the bowl of popcorn he’d been nursing in his lap. Jemma kept her eyes fixed on the movie for a solid ten minutes before sneaking another peak at the man beside her. He’d abandoned the popcorn to the table and reclined further in the loveseat. She loved to see him this way: at rest. Too often she saw him with concern written in the lines of his forehead and stress in his eyes. He deserved these moments of peace.
The final scene of the film came too soon and though she’d been quite distracted for most of it she still found her breath hitching a bit when Kathleen hears Brinkley barking and sees Joe calling after him. She started to stretch her limbs and turned to see Coulson smiling in that fond way of his.
“A favorite of yours?”
She blushed as she realized he must have noticed her misty eyes at the end. “Yes.”
She barely had time to lament the end of the movie and thereby her almost-sort-of-snuggle time with Coulson when she heard Fitz ask if anyone wanted to watch the latest Game of Thrones episode. She would usually excuse herself since she found all the violence and sex a bit uncomfortable but the chance to extend her time next to Coulson was too good. As the interminable opening credits began she tucked her feet up beneath her and maybe fidgeted just a smidge closer to Coulson, their legs separated by just a hair’s breadth on the cozy love seat. The episode began and she found her eyelids growing heavy. She really hadn’t followed the show at all and was basically lost anyway. One moment the silver haired girl was arguing with her advisers about something to do with slavery and the next moment she felt a hand gently nudging her shoulder. Her face was resting against something warm and yielding. She breathed in and smelled Coulson’s familiar scent. A smile curled on her lips for the briefest of seconds before she snapped suddenly awake and craned her neck around to find that she had fallen asleep on her Supervising Officer. Not only that but the man she had a deep and mortifying crush on. She sat up as quickly as possible horribly aware that her cheeks were turning bright red and that there seemed to be a small damp patch on his shirt where she had....DROOLED ON HIM?!
For a long moment Simmons was speechless. She quickly glanced around the small den and found that the rest of the team had left already. She silently thanked God for that and finally decided she needed to say something to break the awkward silence.
“Sir! I’m so--”
Coulson smiled his crooked Coulson smile and shrugged off her apology, “No worries, Simmons. Not a big Game of Thrones fan, I take it?”
She giggled nervously, “No, not exactly.”
He smiled at her for a moment and she mused on the kind look his face always took on when he smiled. Finally he stood up, “Well I’d better make sure there were no apocalyptic emergencies during our little cinematic break.”
Simmons laughed nervously and stood as well, nearly colliding with him, “Apocalyptic emergencies! Let’s hope not, sir! Very funny…”
“Good night, Agent Simmons.”
“Good night, sir.” She sighed heavily once he’d left the room and then followed it up with a louder groan of embarrassment. “God, Jemma, stupid!” she exclaimed out loud.
Agent Coulson smiled faintly hearing Jemma’s self-chastising. He was a professional and a gentleman but he wasn’t above feeling the ego boost associated with a young, beautiful woman’s affection, however misguided and impossible.