Work Text:
When he turns the corner and sees his wife poring over a tablet, he rests the laundry basket on his hip and clucks indignantly.
"Oh, I see how it is," he teases. "You ask me just to fetch something, but really, you want me to do all the work for you."
If she heard him, the only sign she gives is the soft smile from one corner of her mouth. He notices that it's not Jemma's SHIELD-issued tablet, but the one he specifically designed to work three times as well and look like it was picked out of a bargain bin.
"Hang on," he says with the point of a finger, "you're snooping."
Jemma looks up at him, absolutely scandalized. "I am not!"
"That," he says, "is our daughter's tablet. Wasn't it just last week when you gave me a lecture on respecting her privacy?"
This earns him a full eye roll. "This is her school notebook. She wanted me to check her work before I left."
"Yeah?" He crosses the room and puts the laundry basket on their bed, right next to her abandoned suitcase. "And what is it about a thirteen-year-old's homework that you find so fascinating?"
She turns the tablet to show him, her smirk spreading into a full, ear-to-ear grin. Fitz is about to ask her what he's supposed to be looking at when he's practically blinded by it: a whole page full of hearts adorning names written over and over again.
Eli Bradley
Madeleine Bradley
Mrs. Eli Bradley
Dr. Madeleine Bradley
Fitz thinks he might be sick.
"She . . . she has a boyfriend ?"
Jemma sighs. "She's growing up. It's perfectly natural for her to be interested—"
Fitz grabs the tablet to look for himself. "How can you be calm at a time like this? She's a prodigy—she's the youngest in her program! He might be a drug addict!" He buries his hands in his hair and sits down on the bed, his head spinning. "Our daughter is in love with a drug addict."
He feels the mattress drip and she crawls next to him; one hand takes his while the other slides over his shoulders.
"Oh, Fitz," she says, her thumb rubbing loving circles into his hand, "you're being ridiculous."
She kisses his cheek and stands back up, reminding him that soon, she'll be gone for a whole week. He reaches out his hand and catches hers. She looks down at him curiously.
"Help me sort the clothes?," she asks.
He nods, moving so that the basket stands between them. He pulls out his clothes from where they are mingled with hers, and she does the same. He likes it when they do it this way.
"Fitz," she says, balling up a pair of socks, "you don't know anything about this boy."
He's about to tell her that he doesn't need to know anything, but when he catches her eye, he decides to rephrase.
"He's a teenage boy, Jemma."
"Well," she says, folding a shirt, "we don't even know that for sure. Just his name."
He cringes. "Ugh, that's worse!" He squints one eye open. "Do you really think that he's older than she is?"
Jemma puts a hand on her hip and rolls her eyes at him. "Honestly, Fitz," she says, "if you want to know about him, why don't you just ask Maddy?"
Flitz balks at her. "Who, me? You expect me just to . . ." He makes wild hand gestures without the hope that she'll understand the words he can't find, only to end it with a shake of his head. "I can't do it, Jemma. I don't know anything about love."
Jemma places the last of her socks into her suitcase with a groan. "Fitz. You've been married to me for sixteen years!"
"Well," he says with the defiant fold of his arms, "that hardly counts."
Jemma only raises an eyebrow at him, utterly lost for words before her eyes widen, and Fitz knows she's just realized that the car will be coming for her in twenty minutes.
"We can talk about this later," she decides. "I'll call you when I get to the hotel."
Fitz thinks about the nice, big bed she'll get to herself and selfishly mourns the loss of her warmth in theirs.
"I don't know why I can't go with you," he says, knowing how childish it sounds; "it'd be nice to go on holiday, just the two of us."
"It's not a holiday," she defends, though Fitz knows as well as she does that it would be for them. "And you do know. You were the one who forgot to ask your mum to babysit before my parents invited her to go to Cabo with them."
"And you were the one who encouraged our parents to be friends!" He throws his hands up in the air. "Honestly, Jemma. Blaming me for this mess when you made the very strategical error of—"
His mouth is stopped by her lips as her hands loop around his neck. He instinctively pulls her closer and kisses her back gently, knowing he has to savor this, telling himself she's always come back to him before. She ends the kiss and rests her forehead against his.
"I wish you could come," she says, her eyes still closed. "I don't like going anywhere without you."
Fitz swallows the raw emotion in his throat. "I know."
"Help me say goodbye to the children?"
He nods, taking her suitcase in his left hand and her hand in his right as he lets her lead him down the staircase and calls the children to meet them. It's amazing to him, the way they scamper out to greet her. Isaac tackles Jemma with a hug that really just captures her legs while Dorothy looks on with a quivering lower lip. Maddy, clearly pretending to be less affected than she is, bends down to put her arm around her little sister. Fitz catches Maddy's eyes and nods towards her mother, earning a distinct look of exasperation. Still, Maddy obeys, bringing Dorothy to join in the hug. It's enough to stop his heart, this image of the four of them embracing each other while Jemma soothes them with whispered words. Everything that matters in the world is standing before him. How did he manage to be so lucky?
The hug breaks with the sound of a car honking outside, and he thinks he sees Jemma wipe away a tear.
"I"ll stop in for dinner when I can," she says, rubbing her thumb across Dorothy's cheek with one hand and trying to break Isaac's grip with the other. "Your father has it all arranged. Mind him while I'm gone, alright? I'll be very disappointed if I find out you . . . oh, come now, Isaac. They're waiting for me!"
In the end, Fitz has to grab Isaac and hold him still so she can leave to a chorus of goodbyes, his own among them. He lets his son go when she's out the door, knowing Isaac and Dorothy will run to the window to watch the car drive out of sight.
"She's just leaving for a few days," Maddy grumbles. "There's no need to be so dramatic."
Fitz responds by pulling her into a hug and smiling when she latches on to it. Despite what she thinks, she's still a little girl, his little girl, so he cards his fingers through her hair the way he's always done. She's growing up so fast, but he'll always know how to comfort her.
When she's ready, she breaks the hug and looks up at him expectantly.
"Did mum get to look at my homework?"
He nods in the affirmative when he remembers the tablet, and the boy, and how his world is being turned upside down.
How could Jemma leave him at a time like this?
"Is she coming for dinner?"
Fitz looks down from the stove to find Isaac's blond mop of hair.
"Not tonight," he says. "She's still on her way to Dubai. Should be somewhere over Turkey by now."
"And then on to News Eeland?"
Dorothy's warm, inquisitive eyes nearly cause Fitz to lose his composure.
"New Zealand," Maddy corrects, though Fitz thinks her words are a little sharper than necessary. He shoots Maddy a look as Isaac tugs on his trousers.
"Can she take me with her next time?"
"If you become a chemist, maybe," he teases. "Your mum was already pretty advanced by your age."
He doesn't need to turn to know Maddy is rolling her eyes. "Mum was ridiculous. Two PHDs by seventeen? When did she have time for friends?"
Fitz frowns, choosing to deflect so as not to stir the metaphorical pot as he works with the literal one. "You're one to talk. You have any idea how miffed she'll be when you beat her record?"
"She won't be mad at Maddy," little Dorothy protests, peering up with a confused expression. "She loves her."
"Excellent point," allows Fitz. He takes the pot from the heat and turns the burner off. "Now, if you would please sit down, we can start dinner."
He smiles as the twins make a mad dash to the table and Maddy makes a point of taking her time. Isaac pushes himself up to watch Fitz place the pot on the table and scowls when he sees what's inside. "Podgy porridge? That's for breakfast!"
Fitz shrugs and returns the hot pad to the drawer. "It's breakfast for dinner," he says as he retrieves the milk, honey, fruit, and toast. "A recipe your grandmother taught me, for the record. And . . ."
He sets everything down on the table and directs attention to the pan he'd placed down a few minutes earlier. He takes off the lid with a flourish and revels in the way his son's eyes light up.
"Eggs!"
"Just the way you like them," Fitz confirms. His mother would say they're not necessary, but Isaac's eggs are a dish Jemma has yet to master, and Fitz feels it necessary to point out his culinary credentials. And, they are a perfect antidote to the disappointment over porridge, judging by the way Isaac bounces in his chair as they say grace.
"Dad," Maddy asks when they're a good ways into the meal, "Aunt Daisy's not coming to visit soon, is she? We haven't seen her in ages."
"She's a very busy woman, being the director of SHIELD and all," Fitz reminds her, "but you can give her a call when we're done. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you."
"Can I talk to her?" asks Dorothy.
Fitz wraps his arms around her little shoulders and drops a kiss into her hair. "Of course you can. Why don't we all talk to her?"
Isaac cheers, but Maddy only glowers as she pushes her porridge around in the bowl.
"Never mind," she says.
"Hey." Fitz reaching out to put a hand on her arm. "Everything okay? Is there something you want to talk about?"
Maddy shrugs. "It's just . . . why do I always have to share everything with the twins? I'm practically an adult."
Fitz clamps down on the objection threatening to shoot of his mouth, reminding himself to take a breath and think of what Jemma would say.
"Okay," he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "why don't we all talk to her together, and then you can talk to her on your own? Would that suffice?"
Maddy glares at him, then nods. "I guess."
Fitz smiles in spite of himself as he shoots a text off to Daisy. Was Jemma like this at that age? Or is this just the natural combination of two people stubborn enough to stay together?
He keeps wondering when he gets a text from Daisy confirming her availability, and he's still wondering when he uses the call to bribe them into helping him with the dishes. There's a piece of Jemma in each of them, and he's lucky to have them while she's gone. He's lucky to have them at all, really. He never knew how much he wanted to be a father until he first saw Maddy smile.
"Daddy?"
Fitz stops with his hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"
He turns around to see Dorothy sitting up in bed, waving him over to her. How could he ever disobey? He crosses the room and sits on her bed, melting when she puts a hand on each cheek and looks deeply in his eyes.
"I miss mummy," she says.
"I know," he replies, glad his daughter got her mum's brown eyes. "I miss her, too. But she'll be back soon. She misses you too much to stay away too long."
She catapults herself into a hug that almost knocks him over, and the oof! that comes from his mouth almost drowns out the knock at the door.
"I love you, Daddy," Dorothy says.
"I love you, monkey."
Fitz supposes he will always love embarrassing her, especially when there's pink in her cheeks and a glow in her eyes. He drinks it in before looking over at the door. "Come in."
Maddy pokes her head in as Fitz coaxes Dorothy back under the covers.
"Aunt Daisy wants to talk to you."
Fitz nods, then kisses Dorothy good night for the second time.
"You better be headed to bed yourself," he tells Maddy as he shuts the door. "I've let you all stay up too late already."
He doesn't wait to see her umpteenth eyeroll of the evening, and he's sure Jemma's dad wouldn't have, either. It's a shame Fitz can't catch up with him without risking the interruption by his mum and Jemma's.
He rounds the corner and grins to ear to ear when he sees his old friend projected on the screen.
"Hey there, Daisy," he greets. "I was just putting Dorothy to sleep."
Daisy's not looking at him, though. She stands up as the bottom half of a suit appears, leaving Daisy with a tablet in her hand when it's gone. When Daisy's face comes back into view, she's scowling.
"Bad day?"
She looks up at Fitz's question, then shakes her head.
"Just . . . well, you remember how it is. It's always something." She places the tablet on her desk and folds her arms. "Anyway, how are you, really?"
"Good," Fitz says, and meaning it, "I miss Jemma, of course, but I can manage."
Daisy gives him a look. "I didn't mean you'd be helpless without her, or anything. Just that I know how hard it is for you to be apart."
"Well," he says, "I have the kids to keep me company."
A warm smile stretches across Daisy's face before it fades. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."
Fitz groans. "What did Maddy say?"
"Fitz? Fitz? Pick up the phone, please."
Fitz gives out a groggy groan and turns onto his side, reaching over to Jemma's side of the bed.
"Fitz? Fitz? Pick up the phone, please."
It's not until his arm hits the cool covers that he realizes it's not actually Jemma who's speaking. It's the ring tone for when she calls. He shoots out of bed and grabs his phone, accepting the call in a panic.
"Jemma, are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?"
"I love you," says Jemma. It comes out in a huff, like she had to get it out fast. "I forgot to say it before."
"I love you, too," he says. "But you're okay?"
"Better now. Sorry to wake you, I just—I was an hour into the flight before I realized, so I had to tell you as soon as I could."
"It's okay," he says, rubbing at his eye, "never a bad time to talk to you. How was your flight?"
"Long," she says, and he can hear her smile. "How are the kids?"
"Asleep, I hope. But good. Except . . ."
"Yes?"
He squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment. "Maddy asked Daisy to come and give a presentation at her school. Broke Daisy's heart to turn her down, but apparently this Eli fellow is a big fan."
On the other end of the line, Jemma gives a hmm . "Do you think he's pressuring her?"
"No idea. But I guess they're already an item. She told Daisy all about it."
"Good thing we have our spy," she jokes.
Fitz smiles. "Yeah."
"What do you think we should do about it?"
He sighs, stretching out a kink in his neck. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. What did your parents do when you were this age? Ground you forever?"
He loves the sound of her laugh, gentle and clear. "I actually didn't date much in university. You know how teenagers are; everything is so fleeting. You're in love with someone one day and repulsed by him the next."
"Yeah," he says. "I'm sure you were beating them off with a stick."
She pauses, and he can only imagine the expression Jemma's giving him. "I was a bookworm with bad social skills, and you know it. I'm lucky I was too wrapped up in myself to notice."
"Hey," he admonishes, "none of that. You were the kindest, cleverest—"
"So what are we going to do about Maddy?"
He blinks, stunned at her interjection. "Well, Daisy said we should meet him. Have him over for tea or something. What do you think?"
She considers it, and he waits.
"I think that's an excellent idea. How can we manage it?"
"Well, he says, "you were going to stop in for dinner, yeah? When you recover from jet lag?"
"I doubt I'll recover before it's time to come back, but yes. It'll be breakfast time here, and the conference starts at ten. Should give us plenty of time."
He nods, remembering the itinerary they discussed weeks ago. "Right, well, I'll invite him to join us. Make sure to practice my fatherly glares."
"Oh, Fitz. You'll be nice to him."
"'course I will, Jemma. That's why it's just the glares."
"Fitz."
He wishes he could see her reproving smile, wishes she could see the twinkle in his eye. It's unnatural, being away from her. They really should endeavor to minimize it as much as possible.
"I'll make something nice," he promises, "let him know that she has people who look after her. Then maybe he'll think twice before he tries to . . . pressure her."
Jemma sighs. "I hope he's just tried for celebrity appearances so far. We'll have to flesh out his character best we can; figure him out."
Fitz nods in agreement, then remembers she can't see him. "Yeah, we will. And if I have to send Doc after her . . ."
"Fitz."
"I'll put cloaking technology in him! She won't even know."
"She's as smart as we were," Jemma says. "She'll figure it out eventually."
"Yeah, but until she does—"
"Fitz." She huffs out a sigh. "We can talk about it. Later, when we're on the same continent, and it's not the middle of the night."
"Yeah," he says, looking around their dark room. "You're coming home, soon, right? It's already been too long."
He imagines the way she smiles, maybe with the hint of a blush in her cheeks.
"I'll come back as soon as I can. I have to, you know. No one else knows how to make my favorite kind of eggs."
"Well, I have to keep myself useful," he jokes.
He waits for her response, but only hears the silence stretching between them. Is she yawning? Nodding off? Or . . . did he say something wrong?
"You're indispensable," she finally says. "I love you."
It's one thing to say it, but he can feel how she means it, just as if she was here, looking into his eyes with her hand on his chest. His heart clenches, overcome with emotion.
"I love you too, Jemma. Be careful."
"Goodnight, Fitz."
"Goodnight."
Shepherd's pie, Fitz decides, is the perfect meal for such a meeting. It's filling, comforting, contains plenty of meat, and yet has enough vegetables to satisfy Jemma. Better still, he has his mum's recipe, and he was planning on making it anyway. By the time the meat is browned, the potatoes are boiled and mashed, and everything is layered and put into the oven, Fitz is ready to prepare for Jemma's portion of the evening. Maddy, who has more than a passing interest in electronics, offers to help him install the holographic projectors.
"Smells nice," she says, nodding towards the kitchen.
"You can thank your grandmother, as usual. She always made this when we had company coming. Did Eli tell you when he'd get here?"
Maddy squirms, clasping her hands behind her back. "He hasn't left yet. He has to wait for his ride."
"Ah," says Fitz, "so, not old enough to drive on his own."
Maddy shoots him a look, her brows furrowed. "What did you think, that he was Harrison Ford?"
"Well," Fitz says with a shrug, "you are the youngest in your program. That means everyone else is older."
"Yeah," she agrees, a hand on her hip. "Half of them are married with kids. That's disgusting, dad."
Fitz puts his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, just . . . why don't you tell me about him."
"He's brilliant," she says, "and American. His grandfather served in World War Two, and they told his grandmother he was dead, but he wasn't. And he went to prison for a while, but got pardoned. He talks about his grandfather a lot."
Fitz raises his eyebrows. "An ex-con. That's a great role model."
Maddy cocks her head at him. "He was a hero, dad. He fought Nazis."
"Okay," he allows. "What else?"
"His uncle served in Vietnam," she adds.
"Wait," says Fitz, "his uncle? And his grandpa served in World War Two?" Fitz furrows his brow. "He'd have to be well over a hundred years old. And his uncle'd have to be older than Coulson."
When faced with Fitz's questioning glare, Maddy only shrugs.
"That's what he told me."
"Okay," Fitz sighs, "well, what else do you know about him?"
Maddy thinks for a second. "He has an eidetic memory."
"Now, that's interesting. Can you hand me that?"
Maddy dutifully provides the projector he pointed towards. "Is this the last one?"
"Yup, and if we did it right, the cameras inside the projectors are at just the right angles." He mounts the projector, feeling very satisfied when it clicks into place. He takes a step back to survey his work. "Though," he says, "if we did it wrong, we'll find out quick. The technology's been around for a while, but it's never been applied in this way."
"Why?"
Fitz scans the room to verify that Isaac and Dorothy are in earshot.
"It was, uh, it was dangerous. But not this part; the part your mum has. So we had to figure out a way to make it safe. Very safe." He clears his throat, then speaks a little louder. "Your mother is very safe now. We were both very careful."
Hopefully, that's enough to prevent the catastrophe that happened when Isaac asked him when he first fell in love with Jemma. They're still not sure if the poor boy will ever get over his fear of heights.
Fitz dials Jemma to tell her they're ready, and when they turn on the projectors there she is, wearing the virtual reality device they designed so long ago. He fiddles with the controls, and the headgear disappears.
"Hey!" He waves at her, and she waves back, smiling. "How is it? Is it working?"
Jemma looks up, down, and around. "Seems to be," she says. "Hi Maddy! Hi Dorothy! Hi Isaac! I miss you loads. Has your dad been taking good care of you?"
The kids bombard her with questions about her trip, but before she can answer, the doorbell rings.
"Ah," says Fitz, "that'll be our esteemed guest. Let's greet him, shall we?"
Jemma shoots him a concerned look. "Will I be able to . . .?"
"Oh! Yes," answers Fitz. "You should have free movement around the first floor, just like you were here." He scratches at his beard. "Except you can't go to the second floor. Or outside."
She gives him a smile full of affectionate exasperation. "Okay, then. Let's go. We don't want to keep our guest waiting."
Fitz doesn't mean to run to the door, but he does feel the need to get there before the twins do, and they already have a head start. He barely wins, though Dorothy immediately runs back to hide behind her mother, unaware that she's creating a little girl-sized hole in Jemma's projection. Her head is still in tact, though, and Fitz waits for a cue from her before opening the door.
"Hello," Fitz says, still a little out of breath. "You must be Eli."
On the other side of the door, Fitz finds a tall, remarkably good-looking young man with a shaved head and dark brown eyes. And, of course, Fitz immediately notices that he's—
"Why are you black?"
Fitz whirls around to find Isaac at his side, blinking curiously at Eli. Eli blinks back.
"Is it because you drink chocolate milk?"
"Isaac!"
"Fitz, do something!"
"I'm trying, I'm—"
In the end, he can't think of anything to do but scoop Isaac up and clamp a hand over his mouth.
"I'm sorry, Eli," says Jemma, "please come in."
Eli steps over the threshold cautiously, eyeing a waving Maddy before looking over at Jemma.
"You don't have legs," he says.
At his words, Dorothy looks up, sees her mother's half-missing projection, and bursts into tears.
"Sorry," says Fitz. "I'm so sorry. Dr. Fitz-Simmons," he says, reaching out to shake the boy's hand. "And this is my wife, Dr. Fitz-Simmons."
Eli offers to shake Jemma's hand, too, but she shakes her head.
"I can't shake your hand," she explains.
"Because she's a hologram ," Fitz covers. Jemma's eyes shoot up to her hairline.
"Yes! That's the . . . that's the only reason, certainly not because . . ." She clears her throat. "Anyway, I'm not a hologram, really. It's just that my physical body is in New Zealand at an academic conference, so I'm here by way of holographic projection. But it is nice to meet you."
Dorothy, still wailing, allows Jemma's holographic legs to return when she falls to the floor in exhaustion.
"Look, darling!" Fitz points to Jemma. "Mummy's back. She's fine!"
Dorothy looks up at her mother with red-rimmed eyes, and Jemma waves back warmly before looking over at Fitz.
"Maybe we'd better . . ."
It's then that the oven timer goes off, saving the day.
"Ah," says Fitz, readjusting Isaac on his hip, "I'd better go check on that. Can you come with me, Mummy? And Dorothy?"
Fitz shoots Eli an apologetic expression and hurries as fast as he can with Isaac in his arms, looking over his shoulder to make sure Dorothy is following. When they're finally out of sight, he puts Isaac down with a groan and turns the oven timer off.
"He's getting a little big for that method," Fitz says as he pokes his head in the oven.
Jemma only chuckles behind him. "I'm impressed you were able to get him all the way back here, actually. We're lucky that Dorothy has always been the obedient one."
At the sound of her name, Dorothy peers wearily up at her mother.
"Are you okay, Mummy?"
Jemma bends down to Dorothy's eye level. "I'm just fine, darling." She smiles at Dorothy, and when she gets a smile in return, she stands up straight. "Fitz? How did that happen?"
"No idea," Fitz says as he puts the casserole dish on the table. "He talks to Mack all the time! He never says things like that to Mack."
Jemma purses her lips. "Maybe he's getting to the age where he notices differences between himself and others. Mack always drinks chocolate milk when he's here, so maybe Isaac—"
"Yeah, he does," agrees Fitz. He puts his hands on his hips, surveying the table settings. "And Yoyo can't stand the stuff. Do you think he just-"
"Mistook correlation for causation?" Jemma reaches out to Isaac, as if to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear before remembering she can’t. "Well, he wouldn't be the first."
Fitz nods, frowning. "He certainly wouldn't. I guess it’s a good thing he said it in front of us instead of to a classmate or something, where we wouldn't know about it." He shrugs at Jemma, who cocks her head at Isaac, then Dorothy.
"Yes," she says, "but now we need to do damage control. If you buy me five minutes, I can do a quick lesson on melanin and the properties of light."
He wishes he could kiss her for real, but he does the best he can by kissing the air in front of her projection and earning a chuckle for his efforts.
"Call me when you're ready, yeah? I'm going in."
He doesn't wait for a response, though he does catch a glimpse of her adoring eyes as he heads out of the kitchen. Somehow, it feels worse than heading into an Inhuman war. He's almost worried that he'll walk in to find them kissing or doing something just as scarring. Instead, he finds them standing just where he left them, awkwardly looking at each other.
"So Eli," Fitz says, "Maddy tells me that you have an eidetic memory."
Eli looks up briefly before looking over at Maddy. "Yeah, um, it comes in handy for tests. Don't have to spend as much time studying."
"Ah," says Fitz, "does that give you time for hobbies."
Eli frowns. "I play football—American football, that is. And I work at the school library."
"Maddy's favorite place," Fitz adds, surprised when Maddy glares at him. "What? There's a reason she's at the top of her class." He turns to Eli. "She takes after her mum in that way."
"Yeah," says Eli, "she worked for SHIELD, right? Same as you?"
Fitz raises his eyebrows at Maddy, who has a sudden interest in her shoes. "Well, I'm not sure how you got that idea, but—"
"Oh, it's okay," says Eli. "Secret's safe with me. It's just, I was telling Maddy that I want to work for SHIELD one day. Be a hero like my grandad. Maybe you could . . . put in a good word for me?"
Fitz looks over the boy from head to toe, noting that he does look like a good recruit for the ops division of SHIELD Academy. But Maddy, who is small like her mother, looks even smaller next to Eli. Two years, it seems, is a long time for people as young as they are.
"I've got to get going," Jemma says as they're cleaning up.
"Really?" Fitz loads a plate into the dishwasher. "But Eli just left! We can finally . . ." He looks around and sees that Maddy is on her phone, but still in earshot. "Debrief," he whispers.
Jemma offers an empathetic frown. "I may have already stayed too long. I didn't expect him to go on for so long about the exploits of Captain America."
"Yeah," agrees Fitz. "That was weird, wasn't it? That he was acting like . . ." He lowers his voice. "Like Maddy wasn't even there?"
Jemma shoots a concerned look towards their eldest daughter. "I noticed that, too. As if he only wanted to talk to us."
"Well, I hope not. Especially the way she was fawning over him all night."
"Hey," says Jemma, giving him a playful swipe right through his arm. "I used to look at you that way. Still do, in fact."
"You did not," Fitz argues. "I was a little dense back then, but I'm sure I would have noticed that ."
She gives him a mischievous grin as she shrugs. "I made sure you weren't looking."
"Cheeky," he says, returning her smile. "Well, I guess I better let you go. I have to get these little rascals to bed, anyway. Dinner tomorrow?"
"Dinner tomorrow," she agrees. "I love you."
"I love you too, Jemma."
He's knee-deep in an assignment from Daisy (it's probably a good thing that Maddy doesn't know that they're still independent contractors) when he hears a knock on their basement lab door. He quickly covers anything classified.
"Yes?"
"Dad?" It's Maddy's voice, but it's wavering so much that Fitz races to open the door. On the other side, he finds the same little girl who reached out to him when she skinned her knee. "Do you . . . do you think I could talk to Mum?"
Fitz's heart breaks. "She's probably asleep; it's the middle of the night there. Care to talk to me instead?"
Maddy considers this for a moment, even as tears spill down her cheeks. Fitz finds it absolutely unbearable.
"Oh, come on," he says, pulling her into a hug. "Whatever it is, I'm right here."
She's still shorter than Jemma, but somehow, her tears leak through his shirt in the same place her mother's do.
"He dumped me," Maddy says. "He said there was no point since you and Mum weren't part of SHIELD anymore. What does that even have to do with it? Do you think he—"
"Shhhh," Fitz soothes, carding his fingers through her hair. "He's a right idiot, whatever his reasons. A man would have to be mental to let go of a Simmons girl."
Maddy sniffs. "You think so?"
"'Course! Why do you think I married your Mum?" He drops a kiss into Maddy's hair. "I'm a certified genius."
"Dad."
It's an admonishment, but he knows it comes with a smile. He pulls back to see it for himself, wiping her remaining tears away with his thumbs. The smile fades all too quickly.
"I really liked him, Dad."
"Well," he says, "the problem is that you're too good. You saw the best in him and completely missed the fact that he has no idea what to do with a girl who's way out of his league."
"Dad."
He pulls her close again, hoping he'll still have more moments like these. She won't grow out of hugs, will she? Won't she always need him?
"You'll have to be more careful about that in future," he says. "Find the people who see the goodness in you."
He worries that he'll hear the kinds of things some teenagers say, the kinds of things he used to himself at that age. He holds her tight and hopes this isn't one of the many mistakes he's made as a parent. At the very least, he hopes he's taught her that this world is blessed to have her in it.
But she doesn't say anything at all. Instead, her breath shudders as she clutches him tight enough that he can feel her heart breaking. He lets her cry it out, knowing she deserves to have these tears, even if the boy doesn't. He'll give her all the time she needs, anything she needs, because rejection always cuts like a knife. The best thing he can do is let her know that she'll always have him, no matter what.
"Anybody home?"
It’s a mad rush to the door when Jemma's voice rings through the house, and it’s little Dorothy who makes it to her first. Isaac is a close second, having no qualms with throwing his arms over his sister's so they can both hug their mum at once. Jemma pulls their hands from her legs and bends down to hug them properly, waving the hesitant Maddy in, and Fitz once again finds himself stunned by how beautiful it is. If anyone is indispensable it's her, this glorious woman who brightens every room she enters, who means so much to so many people.
"Your dad told me what happened," Jemma whispers into Maddy's ear. "I'm sorry."
Maddy closes her eyes and hold her mother tighter. "It's okay."
"It's okay if it's not," Jemma soothes, and Maddy only nods as Jemma strokes her hair, filling Fitz’s heart so full that he's sure he'll burst. The hug ends with Jemma’s hands on both of Maddy’s cheeks, taking her in for a silent moment before doing the same to Isaac, then Dorothy.
"I missed you three," she says, her eyes shining. She stands up and smooths her blouse before her eyes finally rest on Fitz. "Missed you too, you know."
That's all he needs to sweep her into his arms, knowing they'll earn an eye roll from Maddy. He doesn't care because Jemma's hands are on the back of his neck, and she's breathing a sigh of relief into his skin. He doesn't care because for the first time in a week, this house doesn't feel incomplete.
Later, when everyone is fed, when the kids are drifting off to sleep and Jemma's had time to unpack, Fitz finds her on the sofa and doesn't ask before he slinks in beside her. She hums as she puts her head on his shoulder, taking her hand in his. He drinks in this silent moment where the universe shrinks to just the two of them, side by side like they'll always be.
"Next time," she says without preamble, "you're coming with me. I don't care if we have to talk our parents into taking our kids to Cabo with them." She shifts against him, finding a position that is magically comfortable. "I don't want to have to go through all this jet lag alone."
He chuckles, putting his arm around her. "I don’t know," he says, "it was nice to have the kids to myself for once. People don't pay any attention to me when they have you to look at."
"Oh, hush," she says, "Maddy told me all about how Dad saved the day. You don't give yourself enough credit."
He lays his head on top of hers and smiles into her hair. "I love our life," he sighs, hoping she’ll know what it means more than just being alone when the kids are asleep, more than her being back after a week away. She squeezes his hand, and he knows she understands.
"I love you," she says. "I knew choosing you would give me all of this. I’m glad I made the right choice."
"Huh," he says in mock offense, even as his heart swells, "I thought you said it was inevitable."
She lifts her head in response, making him do the same.
"It is," she says, leaning in to brush her lips against his. "It is."
He loses himself in this kiss the way he’s already lost himself in her, the way his life and her life have entwined themselves together.
He loves that they’ve done it this way.