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Jemma Simmons was in need of a drink.
It had been one of those days, one of those extremely long ones that left a bitter, burning sensation in the back of her throat and a dull throb in the corners of her mind. Things said and done left her feeling meek and frustrated with everything she was currently dealing with.
All she wanted was to throw her head back, to let the intoxicating liquid drown all that bothered her, to let the frustrations melt away.
She wanted the quiet sounds of the music from the local bar's Jukebox to pick up her mood, with every note she wanted the music to make her feel as if she were floating on the clouds.
She wanted to make contact with another soul in the blasted, run down place. She waited for someone to give her the time of day, the night of her life, but the bar she found herself sitting in was emptier than her glass was at this moment.
She picked the worst night to come, the worst place to waste her time at. Had she gone to a bar or club in downtown, she would have probably met someone.
Except she chose the one place that never saw more than six people a night, sometimes they were lucky to see even that. Most that came through here were rich men with depression issues, husbands with broken marriages and people with lost regrets and dreams.
She found all this out in the short time she spent here this evening, each scene making her heart ache more than it had been before.
This wasn't a place she should be spending her time, especially not after the day she had had. She wanted to get lost, but not in the sorrows and depression of others. She wanted to get lost in someone's eyes, in conversation as they kept their eyes glued firmly on one another.
She wanted the kind of relationship her friend Skye had had, an unbreakable bond that fought its way through all kinds of drama and stress. Today had been a big day for her friend, for she found out that only yesterday her best friend had been proposed to.
She was getting married to the man of her dreams, a man that Skye conveniently had met at this very bar that she, Jemma Simmons, sat moping in.
She secretly hoped for that same bloody connection, to meet someone rare and extraordinary into her life.
This was the place her friend met that special guy, under rare circumstances she had heard of that happening to others before. The old, rigid bar brought the most unlikely of people together. It was as if Cupid himself ran the bloody place.
Except for tonight, when she so conveniently walked into the place. Cupid probably took one single look at her and flew the coop, knowing full and well that there was no hope for this one. On top of the hopelessness that seemed to bleed out of the bars old, brick walls, there were some other little quirks that made this place her now least favorite spot in the entire world.
The floors creaked as she walked, upon entering she saw that there were very little places to sit at a table, even less stools at the bar itself. When she did find a place, her chair was crooked and wobbly, but despite that, she did not feel like moving to a new place or grabbing a different chair. This area provided her a hiding place, tucked back in the corner against a wall giving her the security of not having to worry about the wrong person bugging her.
Plus, in the rare moment that that special someone had walked through the door, she did not want to seem desperate and attention seeking by sitting out in the open.
The menu was hardly any better from the atmosphere itself. Considering that she was not an avid drinker, everything on the menu did not appeal to her. Jim Bean, Bud Light, Corona. She was more into the fruity alcohols herself, but she was here now and she did not feel like making herself move to a different bar just because they did not have her preferred drink.
Alcohol was alcohol, it didn't matter the glass or flavor it came in. All she wanted was something strong enough to make her feel things a little less, perhaps, to make her a bit bolder.
So that when that special someone walked through the door, she would have the guts to talk to him.
She tilted her head back and downed what was only her third glass of the stuff, making a face at the way it burned on her already aching throat. Bourbon was a lot worse in taste than she honestly expected it to be, but at least it worked. After only the third glass she was starting to feel herself becoming less caring towards what was going on in the real world and more open minded to the possibilities that could walk through that door at any given moment.
It was probably the worst idea ever, to down something as strong as whiskey on an empty stomach. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to eat, not with the way her stomach seemed to be twisting itself furiously in knots.
Drawing her lower lip in between her teeth, she gnawed on it hesitantly. She picked up her empty glass and ran her fingers over the smooth surface, her mind racing with thoughts.
There was more than one reason that she was feeling as she did in this moment. Despite being willing for her own flesh and blood relationship, there was something holding her back. Someone she grew to find herself admiring was the cause of her relationship problems, for he seemed to be the only thing that was ever on her mind.
He practically plagued her every thought, every night she closed her eyes he was in her dreams waiting for her. She'd wake up every morning with a disgruntled sadness, each and every day was spent being ruined this way.
She could have gone on forever with these whiskey influenced thoughts, dwelling on everything about him and everything negative going on in her non-existent relationship life. She would have done all this as she stared at the empty glass in her hands with a mere longing expression.
She longed for something more than just wishes and dreams, for something as real as what her friend had, but that all seemed farfetched.
She sat the glass down with a loud thud on the table, bringing her hand up to tangle her fingers into her short, wavy hair. The alcohol was hardly working, this must have meant that she had not had enough to drink.
Sitting up in her rickety chair, she began to raise her hand to call out for the bartender, when a soft sound quickly shut her mouth within an instant.
It was an oddly familiar voice behind her, muttering a couple curse words under his breath. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline instantly, her thoughts suddenly losing interest in refilling her empty glass.
She turned around to make eye contact with the person that interrupted her, the sight of the disgruntled figure nearly causing her to knock her chair forward. She could hardly help the way her heart leaped into her throat when she laid her eyes on him, the heat that made her already flushed face turn a deeper shade of red.
A few short seconds ago she found herself thinking about this special someone that plagued her mind and now here he sat at a table in the middle of the empty bar, out in the open. A glass half full sat before him, with the same murky liquid that was once in her glass. His hands were tangled within the short curls of his hair, his crystal blue eyes locked frustratingly on a piece of paper laid out on the table before him.
From her hidden corner at the front, she used this to her advantage to allow her eyes to linger down a bit to his attire. He wore a black leather jacket, paired up nicely with a white, button down shirt and a tie. His face was flushed as deep of a shade of red as the tie around his neck, but she could tell that that had less to do with the influence of alcohol and more to do with whatever was on his paper before him.
He looked extremely bummed, just as everyone that came through here this night had. Yet, there was something different about his expression, something more than him being discouraged about a failed marriage or a bad job situation. She knew exactly what.
She had a feeling deep down in her gut that this led back to something that took place only a few months prior, something that she hated thinking back on.
When she wasn't working or hanging out with Skye, chemistry was her life. Science was everything to her, just as any other old hobby would be to someone else. She found herself intrigued with the many different aspects of scientific opportunities, but there was only one instance that would bring her to talk about her scientific reasonings in front of a crowd.
As she stood at the podium on her conference day, she wouldn't consider the people that sat before her at the conference her friends. They were nothing more than colleagues and people she passed by each and everyday at the Academy.
She knew their names and their lives better than anyone, but knowing a person and building a relationship with them turned out to be two different things entirely. Especially when it came to the fact that she considered herself a doctor, and something that someone felt the need to call her out on that in front of everyone there.
This conference could have been the very thing that boosted her career, sending her high up on the scientific food chain, but she was offered something different from everyone else. If it wasn't for that one voice that piped up in the middle of her conference, the voice that sat her in very place, she probably would have been sulking about this somewhere other than this bar tonight.
To better grasp what chemistry was about, the voice told her that it required more than just brains, knowledge and discipline. It required bonding and interacting amongst other compounds, and not the chemical ones at that.
She lacked in truly knowing her colleagues, something that this voice felt as if it put a damper on her being in anything beyond the Academy. Her beautifully planned conference, her tactics to win these people to her side was tainted, all because one disgruntled soul could not keep his mouth shut.
The very person that sat a mere few feet away.
Before that day she had never seen the lad before, the pasty faced person that had the guts to bring her down before a large crowd of people. When he raised his hand, she expected their to be a question, not a comment pointing out her fatal flaw.
Jemma Simmons sucked at building relationships with people.
Unfortunately all that pretty much summed up to be true, how that damaged her chances at becoming successful outside of the Academy she had no clue. It was true that her only friend happened to be someone that hacked computers and phones for pure pleasure and that her dating life was obsolete, but she was clueless as to how that affected a person's future career.
The position that was her lifelong dream now fell into someone else's hands, conveniently it was a pair that belonged to the pale, big mouthed Scotsman that humiliated her before a large crowd and plagued her mind with an uncontrollable crush shortly thereafter.
As she stared at him like a stalker from her secret corner of the bar, her mopey thoughts were now shot with a new, different feeling entirely. Under the dim lighting of the bar, with the red brick wall as his backdrop, he looked even more attractive than he did when she first laid eyes on him a few months prior. Certainly he had something going for him, imagine how he could look within a couple years.
It seemed that getting older worked in his favor, like a fine wine that tasted better with age.
She wasn't for sure if it was the bitter tasting whiskey coursing through her veins, or the mere sight of him right before her, but something has greatly affected both her previous thoughts and sour mood.
Replacing every negative thought from before was the biggest boost of confidence she had felt in ages, only since she stood before a crowd of people at a podium conference that he interfered with.
She could go back to that moment again, return to the podium for a second time. Only this time, her podium was set in the middle of a bar and her crowd, was one lonely man sitting frustrated in the middle of the empty, rundown place.
Abandoning her empty glass and her rickety chair, she stood up with a slight bounce in her step. That same bounce of confidence was what allowed her to leave the safety of her secret hiding spot, where she made her way to the table with the lonely man in the middle.
She couldn't help the smirk that crossed her face as she came to a pause at his table, her hands crossing over her chest.
Now that she was fully able to take in every little detail that has changed since the last time she saw him, she let her eyes wander over his tense frame.
While he was still rather pale and in need of some sunshine, his once perfectly smooth face was now covered in a slight stubble that, needless to say, made him appear a hell of lot hotter.
She questioned whether this was all the alcohol thinking for her, but another once over of his face and body made it pretty clear that the thoughts were very much from her own conscious.
The smirk widened into a playful little grin, as she tilted her head so that he was now aware of her overwhelming presence.
"Fancy meeting you here, Dr. Fitz," her British accent put emphasize on his last name, her smile nearly breaking the corners of her face.
"Care to prove me wrong again? Oh wait, or do you need a crowd to witness the awe-inspiring intelligence that is Dr. Leopold Fitz?"
She watched with amusement as he sat back in his chair, his fingers pressed tightly into the glass that held his whiskey. Between his tight pressed lips his tongue stuck out in an expression of distaste. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that he hated being called by his first name.
"Jemma," he began, refusing to lift his eyes from the table to meet hers. "What are you doing in a place like this?"
She rolled her eyes ever-so-slightly, fixing the strap off her shirt that slid off her shoulder. In her black and white striped tank top and ripped blue jeans, never did she feel so under-dressed. What with him dressed in that fine leather jacket and button down shirt, he looked like a fresh print of a million dollars compared to her crumpled, ratty old ones.
"I'm here to drink," she snapped, shaking her head violently for dramatic purposes. "Duh."
He kept his eyes on the table, his fingers pressed tightly into his glass. It was obvious that he did not want her here at this moment, in the proximity of his safe bubble.
Picking up on that, she decided to make the situation all the more frustrating for him. She reached over his tense frame and plucked the glass from his hand, tipping her head back and throwing the drink down her throat. She resisted the urge to wince from the taste that burned as it went down, so as to still appear confident and put together.
She set the glass down on the table with a loud thud, unable to help that her lips were now pursed with another smirk.
He looked up at her with an expression of both confusion and shock, his eyebrows knit together just as they were before. His mouth hung open in slight surprise, his fingers digging themselves into the stained, white tablecloth on his table before him.
Between this and downing another glass of whiskey, she felt as if her confidence level was about to skyrocket into space.
"Bloody hell, are you mad?"
She let out a strange noise of disbelief, something that almost sounded as if she were trying to let out a scoff that quickly broke into a laugh. Grabbing a chair from another table, she scraped it across the floor and over to his table so that it filled the quiet bar and his tiny area with a lot of unwanted noise.
"Mad? I'm not mad," she invited herself to sit beside him, giving him a large smiling. "I forgave and forgot what you did to me long ago, in fact I'm not even here to discuss that. The past is in the past. What I am actually here for is to see you."
She lifted her eyes from the tablecloth to see that he was staring at her with his bright blue eyes, his eyebrows still knit together.
Despite feeling as if she were on top of the world at this moment, his eyes locked tight onto hers made her feel as if she were suddenly sober again. Her empty stomach flip flopped dramatically, leaving her to wonder if maybe she accidentally swallowed a glass of butterflies instead of whiskey.
She quickly ignored the unwanted, nervous feelings that were threatening to take over her mind. She stared back at him, her eyes unwavering and her smile still plastered on her face. This gave her the perfect opportunity to see him up close and personal—to realize just how handsome he truly was, instead of admiring him from afar.
She loved the unnaturally bright shade of blue that his eyes were, if she were to linger on them any longer she was sure she'd find herself drowning within them. His face, don't even get her started on that.
If she got her way, she would gladly stare at it for the rest of the evening, no words would need to be exchanged between them then.
Though as it would seem, he felt entirely different than she did about all this. Staring down at the glass she emptied, he tapped it with his finger.
"How many glasses of whiskey did you drink tonight?"
She rolled her eyes as another amused laugh left her lips, bringing her eyes to land directly back on his in a narrow squint.
"Counting yours, this would be my fifth. But I could go for a sixth glass if you'd be so willing as to place it on your tab?" she teased, raising what was previously his but was now her empty glass.
He muttered something under his breath softly, shaking his head as he reached across and yanked the glass from her hand.
"No more alcohol for you," his voice, which seemed to sound as if it were coated more heavily in his Scottish accent then she ever noticed before, quipped.
"The stuff makes you loopy as hell."
She quickly frowned at that remark, falling back into her chair with her arms crossed. This seemed to be his way, to take a situation meant to be lighthearted and fun and shit on it.
He was a party pooper.
"Bastard." she grumbled softly, an annoyed sigh leaving her lips.
It was in this moment that he seemed to lose patience with her, the first time she ever witnessed just how bitter this young man was.
He banged the empty glass on the tabletop, resulting in a loud thud to break through the empty bar. How it did not shatter under the amount of force he brought it down with, she wasn't sure. Though one thing she knew for sure, it was both scientifically and personally impossible to have a conversation with this man.
"Jemma, why are you really here?" he began, his fingers anxiously tapping the glass.
If you aren't here to get angry and you aren't here to have an intelligent, meaningful conversation, you might as well just go and excuse yourself now."
This quickly wiped that confidence she had floating around within in her, a sudden wave of anger washed over her in a rush. Like hell she was going to let him talk down to her like this again.
"You're doing it again, treating me as if I am some kind of moron!" she let her voice raise itself a bit, months of frustration from both him humiliating her and her liking him came bubbling to the surface.
"Is that normal for you? To raise yourself above others? Because unlike them, you don't have any known flaws? OH, you must be bloody full of yourself to think so highly like this!"
His face was turning red again, this time not from frustration or from alcohol, but a shade of red she knew all too well.
The lad was embarrassed.
He pushed his chair out so that it was his turn to fill the place with unwanted noise, standing up so that he now towered over her and looked down at her with his eyes narrowed.
"You think this is what this is about? You think that I am-arrogant? Have you looked in a bloody mirror?! Here you come flouncing up to the podium with this smile that screams it. Here you talked about building relationships with people to make the world a better place when you didn't.." he placed his face into one of his hands, the other resting itself on his lower back.
Somehow hearing him blow up like this made her voice vanish deep inside of her and she was unable to find it to bring it back.
What exactly had she gotten herself into?
He lowered his hand as he released a shaky breath, his hand copying what his other one was originally doing.
"I had been studying at the academy for months before the conference took place, a bio-engineer fresh out of college working for the same thing goal in life as you. To make a difference," he started, his voice calmer than before but still shaky with frustration.
"And lo and behold, there you were. Top notch, beautiful, pretty damn good at your game, laying eyes on you I felt as if the breath was knocked out of my lungs."
That last remark surprised her, causing her eyebrows to raise themselves. Wait a second, did he just admit..
"But you failed to see the most important part.."
Her own boiling blood seemed to turn icy cold in the short time that he spoke, at this moment she wished that she had another glass to warm her up. She hoped that she wasn't shivering in this moment, she did not want to come across as looking frightened by him.
"What? What could I have possibly missed that was so bloody important?" she questioned, her voice weaker than before.
His eyes quickly turned to look at the table, his tongue licking his lips nervously. Something about that little action brought the butterflies back to her stomach, which naturally returned the red tint to her face.
If he noticed anything, he refused to mention it. That, or he was too busy focusing on how she was going to take his next sentence when it left his lips.
"If you're going to be a part of Shield, it takes more than just knowledge to join. Typically when you join you're put on a team and being a part of a team requires bonding. If the members of this team refuses to work together and build a relationship, this leaves room for error and miscommunication which could ultimately lead to.."
"Death." Jemma finished, her eyes growing wide.
He nodded slowly, relief crossing his face at the sight of the realization that crossed her face. When she finally placed the final pieces together, it was like watching someone that just revealed his biggest, most darkest private secret. The expression on his face was unlike anything she ever saw before.
"I tried to tell you all that at the conference," he shrugged, "but you left in a hurry. Never saw you again after that. It was when the teachers at the Academy started working us harder. I started studying harder after that, but my mind wasn't fully focused. Couldn't shake how I reacted at.."
He let out a huff breath, irritated he pinched his nose between his finger and thumb. He was stumbling over his words, which clearly seemed to be bothering him.
Despite never saying anything, she knew what he was getting at. He regretted the conference fiasco.
He released the hold he had on his nose, looking at her with a serious expression that made her swallow hard.
"I was pretty sure I was going to fail, that they would be kicking me out.. that's when I received.." he reached his hand down to the table, where he picked up the paper he was staring at earlier and placed it before her.
It was a letter addressed to him, with his address to his apartment at the Academy. Faded in the background was the infamous Shield symbol, words typed in thick, black letters read:
"Dr. Leopold Fitz, we are honored to announce you have been approved. You will graduate from the Academy before being placed on a team-"
"Fitz!" she cried, nearly jumping from her chair. She couldn't contain the excitement that now coursed through her veins, how much this changed her own negative thoughts.
"Don't you see what this is? You were-"
"Accepted into Shield? Yeah, I know. Just found out today."
She looked up at him, her eyes laced with concern and her mouth dropped slightly in confusion. Something in his tone made it seem as if he were none too pleased with this information, as if something about all of this were bugging him.
"Why are you here alone in this dump of all places?" she pressed, tilting her head. "You should be out with your friends, celebrating! It isn't often that you get-"
He plucked the paper up from underneath her fingertips, an irritated scowl on his face as he glared down at it.
"I don't have friends. I was so busy with exams and.. I didn't bother to make any."
This threw her off guard, to hear the man that razzed her about the importance of building relationships admitting that he, himself, failed at his own advice. Now it made sense as to why he was here, why he looked flustered when she first noticed him.
It was why he was drinking in the first place, probably the reason why he was so hard on her a few months prior.
He was lonely.
Not only lonely, but he realized his mistake long before the conference. It was why she never saw him before, he was so wrapped in his studying and work that he never tried to build a relationship with someone.
It was why he stood up to her at the event.
When all of the blank spaces were finally filled in, she looked up at him with a different emotion coursing through her veins. Before she was bitter, envious, while all at the same time she was intrigued by him.
Now that she understood everything that was hidden beneath the veil, the one that he put up, she felt embarrassed at how she reacted to him being here. More importantly, the sense of admiration that coursed through along with it.
"That is no way to live a life," she mumbled, giving him a weak smile. "At least, that was what a friend once told me."
He scoffed at that, rolling his eyes before stopping to stare at the ceiling.
"It is when nobody likes you, because they're all afraid you'll get them kicked out just like ya did with the one girl."
Her eyes widened in size, her jaw clenching itself shut. Oh bloody hell, now it all made even more sense. When he stood up to her in that conference, he wasn't just trying to save her from failing.
The thin pasty lad from a few months ago was trying to show her that he too, had a chance. He was trying to impress her.
She couldn't help the fact that her heart was now pounding within her chest, her smile widening across her face instantly.
Whether it was the alcohol still coursing through her veins or from everything that crossed her mind in the last few moments, she didn't care. Confidence pushed her into meeting his eyes and to finally give him the truth that she kept hidden for a few months now.
"I like you."
He lowered his eyes from the ceiling quickly, looking directly at her. His flustered expression was quickly replaced with an expression of speechless surprise, which left her flushing on the outside and practically melting on the inside.
She would give up everything, even her love for chemistry, to have him stare at her like this all the time.
It was like he read her thoughts, for just as he realized he was staring he flopped back into the chair, the letter falling back into its place on the table.
"Doesn't matter anyways, I'm not going."
"Ugh, Fitz!" she wailed, practically jumping out of her chair so that she could knock some common sense into him. "This is a rare opportunity, and Shield picked YOU! Of all the people they could have chosen, they chose you! You have no idea how amazing it would be-"
"That's the point, Jemma." he rasped, "It is not amazing! I'll be uprooted from my life, my family! I'll be bounced around like a military man, for goodness sake!"
He let out a shaky breath, his eyebrows drawing themselves together once again. This time his expression was clearly one of frustration, as he stared down at his hands.
Truth be told, he looked as if he needed another drink. Hell, after everything that broke down in the last couple of minutes they both probably were desperate need of a strong, strong drink.
Months of emotions that were left to build up seemed to be pouring out in these few moments, ending with the next surprising sentence that left Fitz's lips:
"I'll be forced to leave you."
Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes widening once again. He looked flushed with embarrassment at the sight of her shocked expression. He must have thought that she did not feel the same way, for his jaw was clenched tightly shut.
"Dammit, Jemma, it makes no sense. We barely know each other and somehow, despite all this, I know I can't do this without you."
"So don't."
She had no idea where her voice had come from, but it came out stronger and more confident than it ever had with him before. She was staring, eyes locked directly on his.
Whatever butterflies that fluttered in her stomach before was gone, along with any hints of a flushed expression.
"What?" he mumbled in surprise.
She stood from her place at the table, making it her turn to look down at him from above.
"If it is any consolation," she felt a small tug at her lips, as she reached into her own back pocket to pull out a folded, crinkled envelope.
Within the envelope was the very same letter Fitz had on the table before him, only difference was that it was addressed to her instead of him.
Fitz's jaw went slack, disbelief crossing his face.
"Bloody hell how did you-"
"Oh it was easy, really. You only thought I got kicked out. Didn't you? Hardly the case at all. Shield picked me, to join a team. That's the only reason why I never showed up at the Academy again. Only I didn't want to leave because-"
"You didn't want to leave me behind." he finished for her, it was now his turn to make the connection.
She nodded, a somewhat sheepish grin crossing her face.
"So, now that we got that all cleared up.. are you gonna sit here and wallow and drink in self-pity, or are you going to take my hand that I've only had extended for the last two minutes and run with me?"
He lowered his eyes down from her face to where her hand now was extended out for him, waiting for him to make a move.
This was the kind of situation she was hoping to come across in this hopeless, run down little bar. With the music from the old Jukebox playing, without the distractions of teachers or other people interrupting, they had the perfect opportunity to sort through everything that had been for the last few months.
A deep look of contemplation was upon his face as he stared at her hand speechlessly. She worried for a second that he was going to turn her down, but after moments of silence he finally reached out and placed his hand in hers.
She couldn't help but catch her breath at the slight tingle that went up her hand from where they touched, a large smile to returning to her face.
It was the first bold step they took together as a couple, the first of many more to come. The difference now was that every time they took a step forward, no longer would it be in fear of doing so alone.
They'd be beside one another, hand-in-hand just as they were when they first took that bold step, the one that changed their lives forever.
Leaving what was familiar and safe, they took off towards their first real adventure together.
With their first actual mission under their belt, they relied heavily on the support of their team and one another.
With this thought in their mind, every situation thrown their way they took one another's hands and ran with it.