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The furlough was in Boston and it was for a whole day and night. Following the alien virus incident Coulson decided his team needed the R & R. Jemma was deeply grateful and aware that this time off was really for her benefit. Even days after jumping out of the plane she still caught her hands shaking in moments of quiet and found that she couldn’t venture too near the bay area without experiencing the beginnings of panic attack. When she wasn’t in the lab with Fitz she’d taken to nesting in her safe little bunk. She knew she was worrying the other members of the team and hoped that this break would snap her out of her funk and back to her usual bubbly self.
May had charted a course for Boston and things were quiet on the bus. It was almost midnight and Jemma was still awake, lying in her bunk with a worn paperback. Fitz had made fun of her for bringing a paper book with her when they’d first joined the team given the dearth of space. She could read Jane Eyre on her tablet, sure. But the book itself was a talisman for her. It wasn’t so much the reading but the holding of it and the feel of the pages under her fingertips. It comforted. She heard a gentle knock on her bunk door and reached to slide it open.
“Hey, kiddo,” Coulson greeted her, “How you feeling?”
Jemma felt two things simultaneously: the delicious fluttery nervousness she always felt when she was alone with him and a small stab of frustration that he referred to her as “kiddo.”
She smiled warmly, “I’m well, sir. Can I do anything for you?”
Excellent, smooth, no stammering or blushing. You go, Jemma!
“No, not at all. I just wanted to check in, see how my favorite biochemist was doing after her recent brush with the eternal night,” he grinned and gingerly sat on the very edge of the bed.
Now this is more like it.
Coulson was in her bunk. Sitting on her bed. A foot away.
“Oh, well...you know, I’m just...fine, I’m fine. Thank you, sir.”
Coulson looked at her for a moment and sighed. She realized for the first time that this furlough might not only be for her benefit. What she’d done had taken its toll on the others. She spoke with more sincerity and warmth, “I’ll be fine, sir. I can’t wait for the break!”
He laughed, “Any plans?”
Jemma faltered. Truly she’d been planning on doing some shopping, maybe visiting a museum, meeting Skye and Fitz for a drink and calling it a day. But the way Coulson asked...it almost sounded as if he were…
“Not really, how about you?” she asked innocently.
“No plans? That is truly tragic. Why don’t you join me, I’m going to visit the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and get some lunch afterward. Have you been? It’s lovely.”
--
Is that a thing that just happened? Why? Why would you do that, Phil?
Coulson walked away from Jemma’s bunk looking cool as a cucumber (as always) but internally he was in a crazy spiral. He knew Jemma harbored a girlish crush on him. It wasn’t that surprising, really. Many junior agents admired their more senior supervisors. He’d been unaware until May had given him a curt warning early on to “be careful” with the biochemist. Well really what did May expect of him, that he’d slip and accidentally date the girl?
…Wait was that what just happened? Coulson groaned as he ascended the spiral stairs to his office. No, he was taking Agent Simmons out to assess her emotional balance after a frightening near death experience. And to show her a good time because she was one of his little bear cubs. Yeah. Totally. That was that.
End of story.
--
Jemma took a full hour to pack and dress the next morning. This was out of the ordinary. They’d landed at a SHIELD facility at 0600 and she’d been awake since 5. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling no matter how many times she tried to tone down her elation with reasonable thoughts.
He’s being nice because you’ve had a rough time since the virus. He was worried about you as a member of his team and now he wants to make sure you’re okay. That’s it. End of story.
She finally decided on a pair of dark denim jeans and a flowy navy blue top that she’d never worn but which her mother had bought for her before leaving to join the team. It was feminine and more grown up than the cardigan combos she usually wore around the lab. With a steadying breath she went out to meet the others by the cars pulling her rolling suitcase behind her.
Agent Coulson was wearing a pair of very fetching aviator sunglasses. He stood leaning against Lola while the others packed their luggage into the SUV. He smiled as she approached. May emerged from the driver’s side door just as Jemma was walking by to add her bag to the pile of luggage in back.
“Simmons,” May said. “Why don’t you ride with Agent Coulson? We’re a little tight in here already.
She heard Fitz objecting from inside the SUV but May quickly snapped the door shut. “That works for you, right, sir?”
Coulson and May locked eyes for a long moment while Jemma stood a bit awkwardly to the side, bag in hand. “Sure,” he finally responded arching an eyebrow at Agent May, “No problem, let me get your bag, Simmons.”
Jemma blushed ( Darn it, face, stop that! ) and handed her bag to Coulson who fitted it neatly in the boot of his cherished convertible. May gave Jemma an amused look before turning and getting into the other vehicle. Coulson opened the passenger door for her and she slid inside, enjoying the cool, smooth taste of the leather against the palms of her hands. With a smart click Coulson shut her door and walked around to his side.
This is just a normal supervisor/employee outing. There is nothing romantic at all about driving along a scenic road in a vintage convertible with an attractive older man.
Jemma’s hair kept whipping in her face so she eventually put it up into a ponytail. She turned to look at Coulson and found him with the biggest grin on his face. He was in his element, driving Lola, smooth jazz sounds coming from the radio under the current of wind that swept around them. She sighed and leaned her head against the headrest. With a jolt she realized that she hadn’t thought about the impromptu skydiving incident once since his visit to her bunk last night. She smiled faintly, closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the wind on her face.
They spent a couple hours walking through the museum. Jemma was almost as charmed by the courtyard garden as she was by the art hanging on the walls. Coulson talked about the notorious art heist that resulted in the theft of thirteen master works. Still unsolved. The empty frames hanging on the walls were reminders of the cultural loss. He sounded very sophisticated.\
“Is art history a big interest of yours?” she asked. She knew he loved collecting antiques and memorabilia but she’d never heard him talk about artwork. Though it’s not as if they were very close. They talked about work mostly. Science, missions, that sort of thing.
“I don’t know if it’s a ‘big interest,’” He replied. “Maybe I’m only interested because of the heist and it’s still unsolved…”
Lunch was in the crowded museum cafe. Jemma could have wished for a more secluded spot. But maybe it was better this way. Less opportunity to expose herself to humiliation. They chatted. He asked after her family for a little while and they talked about how the team was finally starting to work well together.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of your day, sir?” she asked to break an awkward pause.
“I’ll be meeting a couple old associates for a drink later on. You?”
“I think I might do some shopping then I’m meeting Skye, Fitz, Ward and May at a pub tonight. You should join us...er, if you want.”
He smiled his crooked smile that always took her breath away, “I will.”
--
Okay. That was good, right? Nothing untoward or unprofessional. Just two colleagues enjoying a museum trip together. Because...of course, that’s what we are--two colleagues. Ugh…
Phil drove them back to the hotel and walked with Simmons inside and into the elevator leading up to their rooms. As the doors slid shut he saw her fidgeting nervously beside him. She was cute when she was nervous.
No. Nope. Not going there. Nothing’s cute.
The ding of the elevator announcing their floor cut the tension.
“Well,” Coulson said as they stepped out into the hallway. “I’ll probably see you tonight, which pub was it?”
“Lir?”
“Right.”
“Well...bye.”
He noticed that her room was just one door down from his.
--
Jemma didn’t usually drink. As an adolescent she hadn’t exactly been in the cool crowd and had thus avoided the teenage partying phase. Later at the academy she’d had more intellectual pursuits to fill up her time. That must account for the distinctly fuzzy feeling in her head after just one cocktail. The group sat around a low wooden table. Skye and Ward drank pints of draught beer, May had a glass of red wine and Fitz was drinking something vile with gin in it. Jemma’s drink was a fruity lemonade concoction with vodka. It was very good. Every few moments she’d look toward the front of the bar expectantly. She was almost sure Coulson had said he’d come. But maybe he’d meant only if his thing with his friends ended early?
Coulson finally arrived while Fitz was regaling the group with a particularly embarrassing, though admittedly hilarious, story about a prank a senior had pulled on Jemma and her roomie at the Academy. It had involved tinkering with the plumbing in their shower and resulted in both their hair streaked platinum blond just in time for an important guest lecture that morning.
Skye snorted so hard she nearly soaked the table in beer.
May rolled her eyes, “Amateurs.”
“Hello, colleagues! Did I miss anything?”
“Just my humiliation, sir, not much!” Jemma quipped brightly. Ooo Vodka equals talking to boys without sounding like an idiot! Noted.
Coulson asked if he could refresh anyone while he ordered his beer. He left with a refill order from Skye, Ward and Jemma, “Could you get me another one of these divine lemonade things?”
Coulson took a seat between Skye and May on his return. The further into her cocktail the more Jemma felt herself letting go of her usual inhibitions. The conversation around her was playful and lighthearted for once. She found herself riding the waves of it. It was fun to just sit back and watch her ordinarily serious co-workers let go. Coulson was especially fun to watch. He’d picked up the topic of Academy pranks. He and May were competing for most outrageous story. May won, obviously. Jemma smiled watching them talk animatedly. She’d once been scared of May’s somewhat dour personality, but she just took getting used to was all.
The night ran on past midnight. Jemma was feeling pleasantly sleepy by the time they decided to head back to the hotel. It wasn’t until she attempted standing up from her seat that she realized how very drunk she was. She stumbled and nearly collided with Ward. He steadied her with a hand on her arm.
“Okay, Jemma is a light weight. We’ll keep that on file for next time,” he joked.
They started back toward the hotel on foot. Jemma leaning into Ward’s side, May striding ahead and Fitz, Skye and Coulson bringing up the rear. As they entered the lobby of the hotel Ward’s phone rang and he answered craning his neck around and signaling for someone to help Jemma to the elevator. She grinned rather transparently when she looked up to see Coulson taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm.
“Come on, Jem.”
He called me Jem? I will cherish this moment...as long as I can keep from tossing up until I get back to my room...
Fitz, Skye and May were entering the elevator ahead of them along with another couple.
“We’ll wait for the next one,” Coulson said as it looked like a tight fit already. The pair stood together in the empty lobby, Jemma swaying slightly with her head leaning on Coulson’s shoulder.
“Next time I’m cutting you off after two drinks,” Coulson said with a smile.
“Mmmhmm,” Jemma responded somewhat dreamily.
The elevator came and by the time they reached their floor the others must have already disappeared into their rooms. Coulson walked Jemma to her door and gently took her small handbag to search for her key card. While he fished through the surprisingly amount of contents inside he looked up to see her watching him with a certain look in her eyes. He noted with alarm that she was starting to lean forward and her eyes were fixed on his mouth.
“Coulson, I--”
“Uh, Agent Simmons, that’s...that’s alright why don’t I get you inside your room and you can sleep it off,” he used his hands to block her from moving forward. Unfortunately she proved very wiggly and determined to step into his arms. Coulson sighed regretting already what he knew he had to do. Today had been a mistake, he couldn’t let her continue this way it wasn’t fair to her and it wasn’t appropriate of him.
“Agent Simmons,” he said using her title to create some emotional distance. “I know what you want to say and do and I’m asking you not to. I’m your superior officer that’s not something that could ever...happen.”
His fingers finally located the key card inside her purse. Thankful for the excuse to turn away from the hurt look on her face, he slid the card through the card reader and the door clicked open. Jemma abruptly slid past him, grabbing the key and purse from his hands as she did so. The door thumped shut in his face.
--
Phil sighed and turned toward his own door. That was...a bit not good.