Chapter Text
Fitz and Simmons laid at opposite ends of her bed in her cadet quarters with their legs crammed next to each other between them. There wasn't a lot of room, but they'd found it was slightly more comfortable to sit this way than if one of them was stuck with the unforgiving hardness of the desk chair. There were end of term exams coming soon, so they'd gotten together in her room to lob questions at each other in preparation.
"Ah, here's a good one," Fitz said, his finger stabbed into the book on his lap. He thought he'd finally found a question tricky enough that she might get something wrong, and he giggled in anticipatory glee. "A photon collides with a stationary electron. If the photon scatters—"
"Fitz! I haven't got anything to write with. You want me to work the equation out in my head?"
"I suppose you don't have to," he said, though he made sure the tone of his voice communicated his disdain that she would refuse to do so.
"Oh, all right," she huffed, screwing her eyes shut in concentration. "Finish the question, but you can't try to talk while I'm thinking the answer through this time."
He grinned, recalling how he'd nearly caught her in another trick question earlier by attempting to distract her while she considered her answer. "If the photon scatters at angle—"
Fitz was interrupted again, but this time, it was by a knock at the door. Simmons glanced at her watch, clearly surprised anyone would come by her quarters so late in the evening.
"Come in, it's open," she called.
The door opened and Fitz quickly looked down at his book when he saw who it was. He couldn't remember the guy's name, but it was the geologist Simmons had been dating most recently.
"Jemma, we were supposed to meet at the library tonight. Did you forget?"
Simmons clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. "Oh, I'm so sorry. We were working so well here doing exam prep and I must have lost track of the time."
"Lost track of the...Jemma, we were supposed to meet at nine. I just got thrown out of the library when it closed at midnight. You lost track of time for three hours? Or you forgot about me entirely?"
Simmons began trying to get up, jostling Fitz and forcing him to stop pretending he was ignoring them. His legs were along the outside of her bed, trapping hers against the wall and making it difficult for her to get by him. He tried to be helpful, pulling his knees up to make room for her, but that just seemed to tangle them up further.
"Yeah, it figures he's here," the geologist said, pointing at Fitz. "You know, don't bother getting up, Jemma. There's not much to discuss, is there, with the two of you holed up in here so cozy with each other?"
Fitz took a quick look at Simmons before he fixed his eyes back on his book, wishing he were anywhere else instead of in the middle of this particular conversation. She'd mentioned before that her newest boyfriend had become jealous of the amount of time they—she and Fitz—spent together, a point nearly all of her dates reached eventually.
"Yes, I agree," Simmons returned, her tone icy. "If you can't be bothered to trust me and won't even consider forgiving me for making the terrible error of focusing on academic concerns when we are in the middle of the most important exams of our lives, then there certainly is nothing left to discuss."
The door slammed moments later, and Fitz waited a moment or two to look up again and check on Simmons. She was blinking slightly faster than normal, though her expression was neutral. She was upset, he concluded, but trying to hide it. He sat forward, putting the book aside, and laid his hand over one of hers where it rested on her knee.
"He was a prat," she whispered. "It's fine."
Fitz nodded, pulling his legs up and untangling the two of them, somehow managing to keep his hand on hers as he did. "He seemed like one. You're well shot of him."
She gave him a weak smile. "You're much more sensible than I am, Fitz. You don't get involved in things like this. They inevitably turn out so messy and unpleasant."
"Yeah, you're right. That's why I don't date," Fitz scoffed, his voice laced with sarcasm. At her confused look, he continued. "Come on, Simmons. You must know why."
She seemed at a loss for words, jerkily pulling her hand from underneath his and sitting back.
"Every single woman here is older than me, most of them by five years or more. The age difference isn't an issue for you. Men seem to like it, if anything, but it doesn't exactly have women banging down my door."
"I'd never thought of it that way," Simmons said, and her voice was indeed breathy with surprise. "I'd just assumed you were focused on the coursework."
"I've had plenty of time to devote to it," he said, trying to make a joke out of it, but he had a sinking, horrible feeling that Simmons could see right through him. This had always been a sticking point for him, forever being out of sync with everyone around him. It was one of the things he valued so highly about his friendship with Simmons, that he finally had a contemporary, someone who understood him in a way no one else ever had before.
"Fitz," she whispered, and his stomach turned at the concern in her voice. It wasn't quite pity, but it was too close to it for his liking.
"I don't...it's not…" he stammered, "It doesn't bother me."
"You know," she began, suddenly sounding more optimistic. "We're finished here in a few weeks and then we're off to Sci-Ops. We've already signed a lease on the flat and we'll be in the real world, outside of school, for the first time in either of our lives. We'll meet so many new people, Fitz. There's a very lucky woman out there somewhere who isn't half a decade older than you, I know it."
Fitz thought about what she was saying, surprised it hadn't occurred to him before. "I suppose you're right," he conceded. When he looked up at her she was smiling brightly, her eyes full of hope for him. It was impossible for him to be upset when she looked at him that way.
"Now, we won't be able to report to Sci-Ops at all if we fail our exams, so let's go back to quizzing each other. You were asking me something about Compton scattering?"
Fitz reached for the book he'd set aside, settling back into his position opposite her on her bed.