Archive of Our Own

"I know it's a zoo," he said.

"It's a children's zoo."

"I see that."

"You told me we were going to an art exhibit."

"Ah," said Fitz, turning to her with sparkling blue eyes, "but we are. It's an art exhibit in the zoo."

She furrowed her brow at him. "I wore a dress, Fitz."

"You look very nice."

She eyed Fitz, who looked equally ridiculous in his slacks and button-up shirt. He must have felt her staring, because he adjusted his collar.

"It's good that we dressed up. It shows respect for the animals."

"Fitz."

"Come on," he said, squeezing her hand and leading her to the gates, "you don't want to miss out on the third most attended arts and science attraction in Nebraska, do you? It's also the most attended zoo per acre in the United States."

"I'm glad that you at least browsed Wikipedia at some point."

She was hoping she could deflate him just a little with her withering glare, but he only leaned in to kiss her on the temple and melt nearly all her resolve.

"Let's go," he said, even as her fingertips ghosted over his stubble in a vain attempt to keep him close, "we've got a lot to see today."

Before she knew it, they were off, and she tried not to be too disappointed. It may not be the day she was expecting, but at least Fitz was happy. Radiant, actually. Even the small children running past them with ice cream dripping down to their elbows had nothing on Fitz's enthusiasm. She tightened her grip on his hand and quickened her pace to keep up with him.

"What is it you want to see?"

Fitz stopped abruptly, and Jemma plowed right in to him.

"Sorry," he said with a chuckle. "Now, if the entrance is back there, the art exhibit should be . . ."

"Fitz," she insisted, "why are we really here?"

He turned and cocked his head at her. "For the art exhibit, of course."

"No," she countered, "that was your excuse to get me here. Why did you want to come here?"

He stared at her like she was completely mental. "Jemma, it's a zoo. There are monkeys here."

"Yes, exactly." She knew her smile was a bit smug. She didn't care. "So why don't we just go see the monkeys, then?"

Fitz looked to the right, to the left, and then he dug out a map from his pocket. "I promised you an art exhibit, and you're going to get one. Besides," he said, tapping on a portion of the map and grinning like a fool, "there's plenty of time to see everything. This way."

By the time they got to the exhibit, they were almost out of breath. Jemma leaned on Fitz and was glad that she at least wore shoes comfortable to walk in. It would be wise, she decided, to always be prepared any time Fitz was in charge of the agenda. Still, he was warm and sturdy next to her, and when she looked up at him, he was smiling.

"I like you this way," she said. Fitz's smile disappeared.

"What way?"

She stood on her toes until she was level with his eyes. "Come on," she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips, "let's go see this art you're so excited about."

His eyes were still closed when she started to go, and she never really thought it could be as wonderful as this. But her joy subsided when she got closer to the exhibit and started to understand what all the fuss was about. She let go of Fitz's hand to fold her arms and roll her eyes at him.

"The art is made by the animals?"

"Of course it is," he said with a shrug, "we're at a zoo."

"Yes," she allowed, "but I thought it would be art about animals, not by them. This isn't art at all."

"If it's not art," Fitz said, tapping his chin, "then why is it in an art exhibit?"

"Ugh, Fitz!"

He smiled at her. "Come on, Jemma. It's kind of cool. Not to mention that it helps raise money for the zoo."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean it's art." She shook her head, trying to think. "Art is . . . well, it's not just a kangaroo hopping on a canvas. It's more than that. It means something."

"I think it means the canvas will break," he shot back, only to gape in mock offense when she elbowed him.

"Fitz, she admonished. "I'm being serious. It's like . . . remember the first time we went to the zoo together?"

Fitz took a second to think about that one. "For my birthday? Our first year at SciOps?"

"Yes, and it was awful, remember?" Jemma sighed as she moved closer to look at the so-called art. "Well, awkward, really. We were partners by then, but not really friends yet. We hadn't spent any time together outside of the lab. And it was only just us because no one else showed up!"

Fitz frowned, scraping at the ground with his shoe. "I remember."

She immediately saw her mistake, attempting to fix it by linking her arm with his. "You could say it was our first date. Agent Foreman in genetics seemed to think it was."

"But it wasn't," he said.

"No," she agreed, "because a real date is planned ahead of time. We had all the ingredients of a real date—two people alone, spending time getting to know each other—but it wasn't a date. It was an accident, like these paintings."

"It was a good accident though," he said, and she wondered if he was only pretending to study a painting to avoid looking at her. "It's how we became friends. Even if you had to be trapped at the bottom of the ocean before you could admit it."

He bumped her shoulder with his, and she caught the corner of his smile. "Well, whatever it was, it wasn't a date. This is."

"I would hope so," he said, cocking his head at a piece entitled The Wife of Odysseus and frowning, "considering I paid for everything."

"Yes, I set you back a whole ten dollars. How can you possibly afford me?"

"It's almost another three dollars for the train ride," he teased, "and I haven't even told you where we're going for dinner."

"Oh?" She looked over at a painting done by a snow leopard that, oddly enough, reminded her of Monet. "Does that mean I actually have a reason for wearing this dress?"

Fitz looked at his shoes and grinned. "Maybe." 

"See," she said, "the first time we went to a zoo, I had no expectation of dinner. I like this trip much better."

"You say that," said Fitz, "and I haven't even told you about the pygmy marmoset. Smallest true monkey in the world. And they've got a tree kangaroo, whatever that means."

"I assume it's a kind of kangaroo that climbs trees."

"So you would think. I suppose we'll have to see it for ourselves. There's also a baby camel named Alexander Camelton."

"What?"

When they got to the end to the exhibit, Fitz spoke to one of the employees and flashed Jemma a cheeky smile when the worker went scurrying off.

"I have a surprise for you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Another one?"

He shrugged at her. "You have to buy the paintings in advance online, so I got one for each of us."

"Of course you did."

In the end, as much as she would hate to admit it, she rather liked hers. But something didn't add up.

"Why are there letters on it?"

Fitz frowned. "I think the zoo keepers help out a little."

"Ugh, that just makes it worse!"

"Does it matter if it's still nice to look at?"

Jemma considered this for a moment, studying the sky blue with accents of green and black. 

"Well," she concluded, "I guess there is some meaning behind it, since you bought it for me."

Fitz rolled his eyes, looking at his own painting (done by lemurs, of course). "You're such a sap, Jemma."

She scoffed at him. "I'm not sappy; I'm romantic."

"Sorry," he said, taking her painting and leading her away from the exhibit, "there's a fine line between romance and sap, and you have no idea where it is. Good thing you have me to help me."

"Good thing," she deadpanned. 

Later, after a full day of watching Fitz go giddy over kangaroos and marmosets, Jemma took Fitz's hand and let him help her into the zoo's train. It was the perfect way to end the day, her head buried in his shoulder as they circled everything they'd discovered. And to think, she reminded herself, that they still had dinner to look forward to.

"Fitz?"

"Hmm?"

"How many art and science exhibits are there in Nebraska, anyway?"

Fitz only smiled as he leaned in to kiss her full on the mouth.

"At least three."