Work Text:
THE MORNING AFTER. A BED & BREAKFAST. SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE OF D.C.
Jemma woke up slowly, her body tense and waiting for her morning alarm to go off. When it didn’t she opened her eyes and remembered that she wasn’t in her bunk at the base. She turned and smiled at the sight of Fitz still sleeping soundly next to her, sprawled out on his back.
His chest rose up and down as he breathed and Jemma thought that she could get used to this, waking up next to her best friend in the world. She could certainly get used to the activities they engaged in last night.
“Stop watching me sleep,” Fitz grumbled without opening his eyes. “It’s creepy.”
Jemma rolled her eyes and huffed. “How could you possibly know that?”
He grinned and opened his eyes, turning his head toward her. “I didn’t but now you’ve admitted it. You were watching me sleep.”
“I happened to glance over.”
“You were admiring my handsome face. I could feel you staring.”
She slapped his shoulder. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“As I recall from last night, you were the one full of-”
Jemma slapped a hand over his mouth, her neck and cheeks turning pink. “Fitz!”
He only laughed and rolled on top of her, wiping away her protests with a kiss. She could feel him hard against her thigh as he deepened the kiss and it wasn’t long before he had her moaning and calling out “Fitz!” in a completely different way.
She could definitely get used to mornings like this.
2004. S.H.I.E.L.D. ACADEMY SCITECH DIVISION. CLASSIFIED LOCATION.
“To Fitz and Simmons! The youngest and damn smartest cadets the Academy has seen!” Chad held up his cup in a toast and the rest of their classmates mimicked him.
“Fitz and Simmons!”
“Yeah Fitzsimmons!” Chad whooped.
Jemma threw back her shot and so did Fitz amongst the many cheers. Fitz’s cheeks were red from the alcohol and his eyes shone with happiness. It was perhaps the happiest Jemma has seen him in the short amount of time that she’s known him and the even shorter amount of time that she’s been on speaking terms with him.
Chad patted Fitz on the back and poured the two of them another shot. Jemma looked at the camaraderie between the two boys and found it hard to believe that they had been at each other’s throats two weeks ago. But then again, Fitz had hated her a month before and now she thought that they might genuinely be friends. She swallowed her shot and felt the room spin a little as she tried to stand up. She swayed and used Fitz’s shoulder to steady herself.
“Whoa. You alright, Simmons?” Fitz stood up and held her by the arms.
“’M fine,” she hiccupped.
“No more alcohol for you. Hey, Chad, toss me a bottle of water will you?”
The older boy opened up the cooler next to him and tossed Fitz the water. He opened it and held it up to Jemma’s lips and helped her drink it. The water was cool and soothing as it went down her throat and she smiled up at Fitz in sleepy contentment after she had drank more than half the bottle. Fitz seemed to sense that she was near the passing out stage and wrapped an arm around her waist.
In the time that it took for Jemma to drink her water their classmates had turned up the music to a decibel that was surely against Academy regulations and the middle of the dorm that they were occupying had turned into a dance floor with no regard whatsoever for the furniture. People simply danced on top of the tables and couches.
Fitz carefully navigated around the gyrating bodies as he led Jemma to the door. She wished that she could be of more help to him and that she wasn’t stumbling over her own feet so much but everything was a blur of colors in front of her. Jemma had never considered herself a “party animal” and the only alcohol she’s consumed before this was wine and champagne.
“Do you need help?” She heard someone ask Fitz.
“Thanks, I’ve got her. I’m taking her back to her room.”
Jemma wrapped her arms around Fitz’s waist as they walked down the hallway and out of the building. He kept his arm around her shoulders to steady her.
“Fitz…I’m tired…” She mumbled.
“I know, Simmons. It’s okay. I’m taking you to your room and you can go to sleep. Just hang in there, alright? Don’t fall asleep yet.”
She shivered. It was the dead of winter and Jemma was clad in nothing but a short, sparkly dress. The only remotely party appropriate thing she had in her closet. She was just lucky that it wasn’t snowing.
“Shit, Simmons. Didn’t you bring a jacket? You must be freezing!”
“It’s a little c-cold.” She hugged him tighter, trying to burrow into his warmth. If Jemma had been the slightest bit sober she would have been very embarrassed by this.
Fitz managed to untangle himself from her long enough to remove his jacket. He helped her into the sleeves and zipped it up to her neck.
“There,” he said, satisfied. “Now come on.”
They resumed their walk and Jemma leaned her head on Fitz’s shoulder.
“You and Chad are buddies now,” she observed.
Fitz chuckled. “That’s what happens when we help him finally pass his Chemical Engineering class so that he could graduate.”
Jemma, Fitz, Chad, and a junior cadet named Amanda had been grouped together for a final project that counted for thirty percent of their grade. It was Chad’s second time taking that Chemical Engineering course and he desperately needed to pass it so that he could graduate on time. In the beginning, Chad and Fitz had severely butted heads. Both of them wanted to lead the group and both of them were convinced that their way was the right way. Chad was also more than a little bit disdainful of being put in a group with two seventeen year old freshmen in a junior-level class. But when Fitz and Simmons had saved their project from an imminent explosion and irreparable damage, Chad finally grew to respect the two of them and accept that they were indeed the super geniuses that they were proclaimed to be. When they had gotten an A on the project, Chad was practically kissing their feet. He had invited them to his end-of-semester party and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“See? You made a friend! You said you had trouble doing that.”
“I did; before you. But Chad is graduating and moving on to someplace like The Hub or The Triskelion. I doubt he’ll even remember us in a year.”
Jemma started shaking her head but stopped when the world around her became too spinny. “Nuh-uh. I think you’ve made a friend for life. Maybe we’ll see him again when we graduate next year.”
“Next year, huh? I think that’s ambitious even for you Ms. Two-Ph.D’s-at-Seventeen,” Fitz laughed.
“Nope.” She popped her p. “We can do it. You and me. We’ll make S.H.I.E.L.D. history together.”
“Together?” He asked quietly and if Jemma hadn’t been so drunk she would have heard the hope in his voice.
“Always. Fitz and Simmons. Fitzsimmons!” She pumped one fist into the air and nearly fell over. Fitz grabbed her and kept her walking.
“That’s catchy, isn’t it?” She grinned up at him.
“I guess it is.” He smiled back.
“I’m glad you’re my friend, Fitz,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“Me too, Simmons. You’re my first real friend, you know?”
“Really?” She looked up at him. He nodded. “But you’re so nice! Once you get past the grumpiness.”
He chuckled. “Not many people hold that opinion.”
“Many people are stupid! Or…most…Most people are stupid!”
“Yell that louder, will you? I don’t think the whole campus heard you.” Fitz was laughing so hard he had to grip her tighter to keep them both upright.
“It’s true though. Most people are stupid compared to us. Wanna know a secret, Fitzy?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re my first real friend too.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and Jemma patted his cheek affectionately. “’’M so glad we got paired in chem lab together.”
“Me too.”
“So…glad…you talked…to me…” She yawned.
“Okay, Simmons. We’re here.” He opened the door to their building and guided her through.
“Yay, bed!”
“Yes, bed. Almost there, silly girl.”
THE DAY OF. THE PLAYGROUND. LOCATION CLASSIFIED.
Coulson looked at his watch and then outside the door. Fitz was still pacing. By Coulson’s count, he had been out there for thirteen minutes and forty-eight seconds. When Fitz once again stopped outside of his door and walked away, Coulson decided he’d had enough.
“Agent Fitz!” He called.
Fitz poked his head through the doorway. “Yes, sir?”
“Did you need something?”
Fitz’s eyes widened. “Uh…I-I…uh…” He fumbled with the pad he held in his hands and Coulson became genuinely concerned. He hasn’t seen Fitz stutter and fumble with words this badly for awhile now.
Coulson stood up and walked around his desk. “Relax, Fitz. Come in here.”
Fitz walked in slowly and Coulson was struck by how young the agent looked. It was a stark contrast to the man that had proclaimed “Science, biatch” just a few weeks ago. Seeing Fitz like this, nervous and scared, was a humble reminder that these agents that he pushed hard and whose lives he put on the line almost everyday were really still kids. They had so much life ahead of them still.
“What is it?” Coulson asked, perching himself on his desk and carefully adjusting his sling.
“I-I was wondering…er…I mean…I’d like to ask permission to have leave for the night, sir, for myself and Simmons.”
“It’s last minute. You know the protocol, Fitz. You have to fill out the paperwork and give advance notice. Unless it’s for urgent S.H.I.E.L.D. related business that requires the two of you, Agent Simmons will have to file her own request.”
Fitz hung his head. “It’s…ah…personal leave…” He mumbled.
“Personal leave? For the night? For you and Simmons?”
Fitz wouldn’t meet his eyes and fumbled with the pad again. He nodded.
Coulson had to hold back a smile. “Are the two of you going on a date?”
“I-uh…y-yes, sir.”
Coulson didn’t bother holding in his smile now. “Does she know?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Do I need to remind you about Section 17, Agent Fitz?”
“That’s why I came to you, sir. Full disclosure. Agents are allowed to fraternize so long as neither holds superior rank over the other and it doesn’t affect their work.”
Coulson had a feeling that Fitz could immediately pull up Section 17 on his pad if asked. May would probably lecture him for this later but he was getting too much enjoyment out of this to let Fitz off easy.
“If you recall, Agent Simmons does hold superior rank over you because you declined to head up the Science division with her,” Coulson reminded him. Fitz’s jaw dropped and he wilted a little. “That technicality can be remedied, however, if you finally take your place as head of tech and engineering.”
“Really, sir?”
Coulson nodded. “You’ll have a lot of work ahead of you, between this,” he gestured to his sling. “And designing the new bus, but I think you’re more than up to it now. Do you agree, Agent Fitz?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Now about tonight; I suppose I can look the other way if you and Agent Simmons would like to celebrate your promotion privately off base. Just this once though. I expect the two of you to follow protocol next time.”
Fitz nodded vigorously. “Of course, sir. Thank you!”
Coulson clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s about damn time, Fitz. I really hope tonight goes well for you.”
“Thank you.” Fitz started to leave but stopped at the door. He seemed to be debating with himself.
“Was there something else?” He asked.
Fitz squared his shoulders and turned back around. “I was wondering if you might have some suggestions on restaurants…”
Coulson grinned widely. If he’d still had his left hand, he would have rubbed his hands together. Instead, he guided Fitz to one of the chairs across his desk and took his pad from him. “You’ve come to the right guy. What are the lady’s preferences?”
THE NIGHT OF. MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.
“I can’t believe Coulson let us borrow Lola!” Jemma said, enjoying the wind in her hair and the warmth of the setting sun as they drove past empty fields.
“I know. I almost asked if he wasn’t sure he’d suffered a head injury when Mack cut off his hand but uh, I thought better of it.”
“So where are we going?”
“I told you, Jemma. It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise that someone told me Coulson and Hunter teamed up to help you with. The three of you spend entirely too much time together, do you know that?”
“I’ve been told that, yes.”
Jemma looked down at herself. The tight-fitting black dress she was wearing was nice but it was one of the older pieces in her limited wardrobe, dating back to her days at Sci-Ops. “I hope I’m dressed appropriately.”
Fitz glanced at her and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You look beautiful, Jemma.”
She could feel her cheeks warming up, despite the wind. “Thank you. You look quite dashing tonight, Fitz.”
Especially behind the wheel of a Corvette, she thought, happy that she was free to admire Fitz while he was preoccupied with looking at the road ahead of them. He really did look quite nice in the grey suit he was wearing. The button down shirt inside had been left unbuttoned to his collar and Jemma found her eyes gravitating to that spot far too often for her comfort.
She still couldn’t believe she was going on a date with Fitz, her best friend, her confidante, her partner, her sounding board. He was the person that she called to get her out of bad dates, the person who brought her ice cream and marathoned Doctor Who with her when her heart was broken. If they dated and it turned out badly, who would Jemma run to? She didn’t think she’d be able to survive without her best friend.
They pulled into a parking lot and Jemma was startled that they had reached civilization already, so lost was she in her thoughts. Fitz came around and opened her door for her, holding out his hand.
“Ready?” He asked.
Jemma looked up at him, truly not knowing if she was. But she took his hand anyway.
2005. S.H.I.E.L.D. ACADEMY SCITECH DIVISION. LOCATION CLASSIFIED.
Jemma made her way back to her table with two cups of spiked punch (Really? Was this high school?) to find Fitz sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring in the direction of where Rachel was dancing with a senior cadet.
Jemma sat down next to him and placed one of the cups in front of him. “You know, sitting here in a sulk accomplishes nothing.”
“And what am I trying to accomplish exactly?”
“You are here to have fun and move on from a broken heart. You are going to show Rachel that she has not broken your spirit and that you are better off without her!”
Fitz snorted. “Fat chance of that happening.”
Jemma grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up. “Come on, we’re dancing.”
Fitz looked alarmed. “What? No!”
“It’ll be fun!”
“I don’t dance, Simmons!”
“Neither do I really but I think now is a good time as any to start.”
Fitz refused to budge even as Jemma tugged hard on his hand. “I really don’t think so.”
“Please?” She knew what she was about to do was a low blow but Jemma was absolutely desperate for her best friend to have a good time. She widened her eyes and pouted her lips. It was the same look that she had used to coerce Fitz into coming to this dance in the first place so she knew that it was foolproof.
Fitz looked up at her and winced. “Bloody hell. Why do you have to look at me like that?”
Jemma kept up the puppy-dog face and she could feel the resignation in his body. He never could resist that face. With the hand that Jemma wasn’t clutching he downed his punch in one gulp and finally allowed himself to be pulled up.
She dragged him to the dance floor where a live band was playing an upbeat swing number. Neither of them knew how to swing dance but Jemma had determined that this would be neither about skill or finesse. This was about cheering Fitz up. She took both of his hands and led him in simple steps copied from some of the other couples on the dance floor. It actually didn’t take them too long to get the basics but Jemma noticed that Fitz’s brow was furrowed in concentration and he was working hard to not miss a step and accidentally step on her feet.
“Fitz!” She called.
He looked up and Jemma twirled beneath one of his arms. She grabbed both of his hands again and began dancing more loosely, keeping in time to the beat but shaking her hips and tugging on his arms and urging him to do the same. He laughed at her and rolled his eyes, refusing to move his body more than he had to. Jemma initiated an outward spin. When she spun back in she did it with more force than she had to and landed right up against Fitz’s chest.
She looked up at him, grinning, breathing hard from the exertion and was gratified to see him grinning back down at her.
“People are staring,” he pointed out but, perhaps for the first time that Jemma could recall, did so without any self-consciousness. She looked over his shoulder and saw that yes, they were indeed making a spectacle of themselves and people had noticed, including Fitz’s ex.
The song ended and the band began playing a slow one. Instead of leaving the dance floor as some people did, Jemma simply wrapped her arms around Fitz’s neck. He wrapped his around her waist.
“You’re smiling again,” she said. “I haven’t seen that in a week.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re an odd bird. How could I not find you amusing?”
“You like it,” she teased.
“Maybe I do.” A piece of hair had fallen out of her updo during their dancing and he reached up to tuck it behind her ear. “I guess I’m odd too.”
Jemma rested her chin on his shoulder, the closeness between them meant that they couldn’t do much more than sway in place but she didn’t mind. She even preferred it.
She could see that Rachel was now sitting at one of the tables next to her date and she was looking straight at her and Fitz. Jemma didn’t know Rachel very well, she specialized in Engineering like Fitz and the only interaction Jemma had with her was when Fitz was around. But Jemma was a girl and she knew that there was no mistaking the sadness, and even jealousy, in Rachel’s eyes.
Jemma could point this out to Fitz. There might be a very good chance that Rachel could be regretting her choice to break up with him and if that was the case, he deserved to know. She opened her mouth to say something in his ear but at that moment Fitz let out a contented sigh and squeezed her hips.
“This isn’t so bad,” he murmured into her hair. “Thanks for making me come, Jemma.”
She swallowed. Fitz so rarely called her Jemma, usually defaulting to Simmons like the rest of their classmates. Each time he did she was loathe to point it out in case he became self-conscious about it and never used her first name again. Whatever she had been about to say died in her throat as a wave of protectiveness came over her. Rachel was an excellent cadet and might be a wonderful person but she had hurt Fitz. He adored her and she had crushed his kind and gentle heart. Jemma would be damned if she would hand the girl an opportunity to do it again.
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Fitz,” she said, squeezing him tighter and making sure to keep Rachel out of his line of sight.
THE NIGHT OF. HORATIO’S RESTAURANT. SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE OF D.C.
“I didn’t know there would be an anniversary party,” Fitz said apologetically.
“I know, Fitz.”
He opened her car door for her, still visibly upset.
Fitz, with the help of Coulson and Hunter, had chosen this restaurant for its seclusion, privacy, and intimacy. Unfortunately, this particular night happened to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of a couple that had gotten engaged at that very restaurant. The celebration of the couple’s family and friends gave the small restaurant an atmosphere that was anything but intimate and private. Fitz had offered to take her someplace else but Jemma was drawn to the happy couple sitting at a table in the middle of the restaurant. Even after fifty years together, they were still obviously madly, hopelessly in love.
The hopeless romantic in Jemma longed to find a love like that, one that can stand the test of time. As she sat across the table from Fitz, she wondered if she’d already found it, if she’s had it all along, for a decade of her life now.
Fitz was quiet as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Jemma knew that the night hadn’t gone according to whatever he had planned and it’s thrown him for a loop, shattering what little confidence he had.
“It wasn’t so bad, Fitz,” she reassured him. “The couple was quite sweet. Fifty years together! Can you imagine that?”
“It is a long time,” he acknowledged. “And it’s nice. My grandparents made it to sixty-two before my granddad died.”
“Do you think…” Jemma hesitated.
“What?”
“We’ve known each other for ten years now. Do you think we’ll…you know…still be close in forty years?”
Fitz looked at her for as long as he dared before he had to tear his eyes away and focus on the road but Jemma couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
“Yeah, Jemma. I think we’ll be in each other’s lives for a really long time. So long as you don’t get sick of me, that is.”
Jemma felt a tight knot in her stomach loosen. She realized that it had been there for the better part of a year, gnawing away at her. “Never! Will you get sick of me?”
“Never,” he echoed. He reached over and took her hand in his. “You’ll always have me, Jemma.”
She relaxed for the first time that night. No matter what happened, she and Fitz were going to be alright. Jemma hadn’t known how badly she needed to hear that, how much she needed the reassurance that she wouldn’t lose her best friend no matter what.
They were silent as Fitz drove but it was a comfortable silence, with the wind in her hair and Fitz at her side, Jemma felt truly content. Then she noticed something that made her perk up.
“Fitz! Go back!”
“What? Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. It just looked like there was something going on at the park back there, like a little concert. Can we go see? It might be interesting.”
“Yeah, of course. Whatever you want.” Fitz made the necessary u-turn at the next stoplight and brought them back to the park.
THE NIGHT OF. PARK. SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE OF D.C.
A stage had been set up in the middle of the park and acoustic performances were going on. People stood enjoying the music or otherwise sat and relaxed on blankets. Fairy lights had been strung around the open area surrounding the stage and the guitar music playing on stage contributed to a relaxed atmosphere.
“Oh Fitz, do you remember the time we went to something like this in Boston?”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I remember.”
“Do you remember the girl with the scratchy voice and how her -”
“-guitar string broke during her performance,” he said at the same time. “Yeah. I felt bad for laughing. That was pretty embarrassing.”
“Some other nice performer came onstage with her guitar and helped her finish the song though. It wasn’t a complete disaster.”
“Yeah.”
They fell silent as they just listened to the music. Jemma was slightly startled to realize that she was holding onto one of Fitz’s arms. The physical contact had been so natural that she didn’t know when she had initiated it. But she simply shrugged it off and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“This is nice,” she murmured.
“Hey, do you want to sit over there?” He nodded at an empty bench.
Jemma didn’t let go of his arm as they made their way over and Fitz smiled down at her when they had sat down. Jemma felt her stomach flip.
“I kind of miss the Academy,” she said.
Fitz looked confused at this non-sequiter but blew out a breath and nodded. “I guess I do too sometimes. We had good times there.”
“Yes. But I mean, I miss the Academy being there.”
“What was it like?” Fitz asked softly. “After Hydra? When you went there to look for Weaver?”
Jemma fidgeted with her hands. “It was awful. Entire sections of buildings had been destroyed. I was there two weeks after the battle and they were still finding bodies buried beneath the rubble…” She shuddered. “The lab…our first lab…it was in shambles.”
Fitz wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to see that alone. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”
“That’s nothing to be sorry about, Fitz. You were…” She trailed off and Fitz just held her tighter.
“I-I’m sorry,” Jemma said, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry for leaving the way that I did.”
“Hey, no, Jemma,” he protested. “You don’t have to-”
“But I do! We need to talk about this, Fitz.”
He sighed and removed his arm from around her, bringing his hands together on his lap.
“Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she said. “I did it so that you could get better on your own terms and without depending on me. I knew that you could. I had utter faith in you, Fitz.”
Fitz didn’t look up from his hands, his right massaging his left. “I saw you,” he said softly.
“What?”
“I saw you. You were with me in the lab, helping me.”
“A hallucination?”
He nodded.
“Fitz…did you tell anyone? Do you still-?”
“I don’t anymore,” he assured her. “It stopped before you came back. You-she helped me.”
“Hallucinations aren’t good, Fitz.” Jemma worried. “I wish you’d told me sooner. Perhaps we should have an MRI done. Have you told Dr. Garner this in your sessions?”
“I have. Don’t worry, Jemma. I’m fine. It’s been a really long time since my last one and I only did it to cope with your absence. At least, that’s what Dr. Garner said. He also said that it was my brain’s way of healing itself. I mean, I knew almost the whole time that she wasn’t really there, that I was imagining her. It would have been bad if I couldn’t tell that she wasn’t real.”
Tears fell down Jemma’s cheeks. Knowing that Fitz’s coping mechanism for losing her was to hallucinate a version of her made her heart ache.
“Hey.” Fitz looked alarmed when he saw her crying. He reached up to wipe her tears away. “None of that, Jemma. It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not! I-I feel like a monster, Fitz. How could I have hurt you like that? You needed me and I failed you.” She choked on a sob and Fitz took her into his arms. She clung to him as she sobbed onto his shoulder. “I wasn’t worth it. You sacrificed yourself for me in that pod and I’m not worth it. I’m a failure. I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t save Trip, I couldn’t help Skye…I-I couldn’t even kill Ward! Everything I do…it’s never enough.”
Fitz pulled away and held her by the shoulders. “Stop it. Just stop. Jemma, how can you say that? You’re not a failure. You-you hold this team together. Do you know how many of us would be dead if it weren’t for you? Do you realize how much we all rely on you? You’re Jemma Simmons – you’re the kindest, most selfless, most brilliant, strongest person I’ve ever met. What happened to me – to us – down in the pod, it’s not your fault. Trip, Skye…none of it is your fault and no one blames you. No one. We all make our choices and sometimes we make mistakes, but there’s no one to blame except for the people actually trying to kill us – like Ward.”
“I should have killed him,” she whispered.
“I should have killed him,” Fitz corrected. “I almost did. Skye should have killed him. May should have killed him. Coulson should have killed him. We all had our chances.”
Jemma shook her head, her hands fisting in her lap. “I hate him so much, Fitz. I’ve never…I’ve never understood how people could kill in cold blood before. I’ve never understood the desire to take another human being’s life. Science was fascinating to me because of its ability to save lives, to heal…we dreamed up the ICERS because we wanted to lessen fatalities in the field, do you remember? But Ward…I want him to suffer. I want to see the life leave his body. I want him to feel what I felt when I sat by your bedside for nine days.”
“Shhh…” Fitz pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around her.
“What have I become, Fitz?” She hated how weak her voice sounded. She hated showing weakness in general but this was Fitz, he’s been by her side through her best and through her worst. If there was one person she could trust in her weakest moment, it was him.
“You’re still Jemma Simmons.” There was no room for argument in his tone. “You’re my Simmons.”
She curled into him, her arms wrapped around his middle. They sat there for a long time, simply content to hold one another. When the park had begun to empty and the MC announced the last performer of the night, Fitz reluctantly started to untangle himself from around her.
“It’s getting late. We should head back to the base.”
“Yeah.”
She stood up and stretched out her arms above her head. When she looked back and saw Fitz still sitting down and staring at her legs with a rather dazed look on his face, she realized that the motion had caused her dress to ride up a few inches. She smiled and held her hand out.
“Fitz?”
Fitz shook himself and took her hand as he stood up.
“Sorry about tonight.” Fitz sounded sheepish and Jemma had to stop walking, turning to face him.
“Sorry? What on earth are you sorry for?”
“Just wasn’t the night I planned.” He rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding hers. “Dinner was loud and crowded, then I made you cry…just doesn’t seem very romantic.”
“First of all, dinner was lovely. And you didn’t make me cry. There were just some things that we needed to talk through.” She grabbed his other hand so that she was now holding both of his hands. “We’re not a typical couple, Fitz. We can’t just go on a first date like normal people but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make this something entirely our own.”
The hesitance and doubt in his eyes endeared him to her even more but also infuriated her just a bit. “Do-do you want that? This dating thing, I mean. Do you want to do it more?”
Instead of answering him, Jemma pulled on his collar and kissed him fiercely, molding her body to his as she moved her hands to the back of his neck and tangling her tongue with his.
“Does that answer your question?” She asked when he pulled away, panting for air.
He nodded.
“Good. Because I have an idea for what else we can do tonight but it’ll probably get us in trouble.”
He gestured in front of him. “You lead the way and I’ll follow.”
“Yeah?”
“Always, Jemma.”