A/N: Special thanks to Emma for explaining the British educational system. Any errors are of my own doing.
The intention behind this was to be a series of drabbles, but then it came out a bit longer. So I suppose it'll be more of a super drabble series?
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
When Jemma Simmons is young, she dreams of becoming a paleoanthropologist like her father, or perhaps a chemical engineer like her mother. She's always had high marks in school, but it's not until her first set of secondary exams that her parents and school realize that there is something more. She manages to achieve perfect scores in all her subjects. Her exam results are the highest Glenden Academy has seen and when word spreads, her classmates begin to call her Hermoine. The 11 year old Jemma doesn't particularly care for the nickname, but she smiles just the same when she hears it. It is, after those same Year 7 exams, that the school begins to wonder what they should do about such a gifted little girl.
Jemma prefers not to draw attention to herself. It's why she doesn't correct the children in the playground when they ask her how "Harry" and "Ron" are or if she's going to take the OWLs. No, Jemma Simmons always does what is asked of her: her homework is meticulous, her uniform is perfectly pressed and her teachers constantly praise her to her parents, displaying her assignments on the bulletin boards outside the classroom. "Little Jemma is a darling," they'd say. "We wish all students could be like her."
So when Jemma receives highest honours on her first set of exams, people start to pay attention to the little girl with the dark mop of reddish-brown hair. Her teachers begin to give her more work- different work than the other students- pushing her further. Most would hate the challenge, but not Jemma Simmons. She relishes in it, flourishing in fact.
She moves through the courses faster than any have before. A few newspapers write stories about the little girl from Sheffield who is, at the age of 13, already being offered scholarships to Oxford and Cambridge upon her completion of her GCSEs. Jemma takes it all in stride, smiling for the cameras and answering the reporters' questions. Truth be told, she'd really rather be hiding in her room, eyes hovering over her microscope. But the reporters give her 50 quid for the interview (and no one calls her Hermoine), so it's not a totally terrible experience in the end.
Leo Fitz is, for the most part, the exact opposite. He barely manages to pass his exams and his mother wrings her hands in despair, begging her eldest to do better. His response is muted, which frustrates his mother. She reminds him of his potential and he shrugs. At 13 he already hates school and Mrs. Fitz prays that the potential she sees in him doesn't go to waste.
When Leo was little, she'd brought home a sewing machine from where she worked as a seamstress. It had stopped working and she thought her youngest, Helen, could play make believe with it. Only it wasn't Helen who'd gotten to the machine first, but her son, Leo. He took to the machine almost immediately and within minutes managed to get it working again. In hours, he'd improved it, making it self-propelling. When Mrs. Fitz brought the machine back to her work, the manager sent her home with six others to have fixed. Little Leo with his mess of blond curls, tinkered away at the machines and fixed them all by the end of the week.
He was 8 years old.
Soon people from across Bishopbriggs were bringing their mechanical things for Leo to fix and by the time he enters secondary school he's managed to earn enough money to pay three months worth of his mother's rent on their flat. When he offers it to her, she very nearly bursts into tears with pride. She refuses, telling him the money is better spent on improving his tool kit.
In spite of this obvious talent for all things mechanic, Leo is unchallenged by school. His teachers call his mother and complain about how he is disruptive, never doing his homework and constantly questioning their authority. Within two weeks of entering Second Year, he is accused (and guilty) of stealing the class pencil sharpener. Its motor, he later explains, perfectly fits inside the mini helicopter he'd built from scratch.
No one knows what to do with Leo Fitz and the headmaster warns that he could be held back a year. Mrs. Fitz cries when she's told that; she'd always hoped for more for him and doesn't want to see him wasting his life tinkering on old car parts in their shed.
Then one day while at the local grocer's, a man in a dark grey suit hands her a folded copy of the Glasgow Times. He tells her, with his clear American accent, that she must've dropped the copy and points to where he'd found it. Mrs. Fitz denies that it's hers, but the stranger is insistent.
"I'm sure I saw it fall out of your cart," he says. "Besides, there's a great story in there. You might be interested in it." His index finger jabs at the cover page, pointing to a smiling little girl with big eyes and dark hair. "They say she's the smartest kid in Britain." The man gives a slight smile, his teeth hidden behind tight lips. "I hear your son is smarter."
Mrs. Fitz doesn't know what to say in response. She clutches the paper between her hands, her mouth opening and closing from surprise. "I think you might be mistaken," she says at last.
The man shakes his head and turns his back to her. "I don't think I am, Mrs. Fitz," he calls out, as he exits onto the street.
Stunned, Mrs. Fitz reads the article that the stranger had pointed out. The article is about Jemma Simmons of Sheffield, a 13 year old science prodigy. It gives her an idea. She wonders if her Leo might be inspired to do better if he were to meet this girl. It's a wild thought and she knows it, but Mrs. Fitz is desperate. She saves up enough money to take herself and her son to London for the annual British Science Fair where Jemma Simmons is showcasing her project on the effects of adamantium on the human body.
When she tells her son about the science fair, he groans and refuses to go. It's not until she mentions that he'll get to see adamantium up close that he finally agrees. She's not even sure of what she's promising, but Leo is excited and gets perfect on his next test, so she thinks her plan might be working.
For the month leading up to the science fair, Leo Fitz talks non-stop about what he could build with the smallest concentration of adamantium. It's the strongest metal, he reminds his mother as he shows her his dream list. On it are planes without wings, skateboards propelled by lithium and a car that hovers over the ground. She resists the urge to laugh at his impossible list and instead ruffles her son's hair.
"Maybe one day, my boy," she says.
When they enter the school gym, she watches as Leo scours the aisles for the little girl from Sheffield. Somewhere between a boy testing a radial gun and a girl doing a demonstration on water pollution, she loses her son in the crowd.
When Leo Fitz first meets Jemma Simmons, it's not exactly as Leo had imagined. In his head the teen figures he'd saunter up to the girl and charm his way into a sample of her adamantium. What happens instead, is that it's not the pretty girl in a grey pinafore that he notices first, but the putrid smell of sanitizer mixed with…
His fingers grip his nose. "What's tha' howlin?" His Scottish accent curls distinctly and a crisp laugh startles him to attention. He turns, fingers still pressed to his nose.
"It's embalming fluid," the girl replies, motioning toward a series of jars. She straightens her shoulders, preparing to defend her creation. It's then that Leo realizes he's speaking to the very girl he'd set out to find.
"Wha- what's wrong with them?" He stutters, suddenly nervous, as he moves in for a closer look. It's all the cue that Jemma Simmons needs as she begins to rattle off her hypothesis and findings. She talks of hydro-aspirators and trocars and how metal alloys could change the face of the British military and Leo thinks that it's as though she's speaking Japanese. When she mentions S.H.I.E.L.D, it's Leo who straightens up, wide eyed.
"You know about S.H.I.E.L.D?"
Jemma scrunches her nose. "I'm going to go to the Academy one day." She says it as though it's a certainty. "They already offered to buy my research on how to mix vibranium with freon to get a more stable adamantium."
It's the mention of adamantium that reminds him of why he's there. "Can I see some?" He asks.
"What? Adamantium, you mean?" She bends down to a nearby backpack and pulls out a small capped beaker. Inside are shiny, grey pellets. If Leo didn't know any better, he'd have thought that it was the steel he occasionally found lying near the Stark Factory outside Glasgow.
She thrusts her hand forward. "Here. Have a closer look," she encourages. He tentatively takes the sample from her and fingers the cap gently. "My grandad worked with Dr. MacLain when he developed Captain America's shield," she says with pride.
Leo's mouth drops. "Your granda' knows Captain America?"
"Well, knew," she corrects. "But yes."
His face reddens and his voice softens with slight embarrassment. "I've been trying to recreate Captain America's shield. But I can't seem to get the disk right so that it comes back, ya know? Like a boomerang. Like what Captain America did during the war. I think it's too heavy or something."
"Have you measured the thrust in correlation to the lift and diameter of the disk?"
"Er-" Leo's face reddens further and his hand clasps the back of his neck. "I'm not sure how to do that." Damn school, he thinks to himself.
"It's just simple physics." She grabs her pencil and rips a lined sheet of paper from a spiral notebook. When she finishes, the page is awash in calculations. "There," she says, pointing with the pencil. "Follow those dimensions and you should be able to get the aerodynamic force you're looking for that would make it come back to you."
He stares at the results, stunned into silence.
"I've never been very good at building things," she says matter-of-factly. "I much prefer seeing what happens when I mix chemicals. But send me a video if you figure it out. I'd love to see your creation. I put my email and mailing address on the back of the page."
"Thank you," Leo says, appreciatively. "I will." He moves to hand her back the beaker of adamantium.
"Keep it," she says. "I can always make more. That's the fun bit."
He's not sure how to respond, but suspects that his face shows how grateful he is as Jemma blushes.
He's not sure why, he certainly doesn't have the scores to be accepted, but as he turns to walk away, he adds, "maybe I'll see you at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy one day?"
She smiles, nodding. "I hope so."
It's not until he's gone from her line of vision that Jemma realizes she'd never learned the boy's name.
...To be continued...
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