Of Promises and Vintage Spy Gear
Summary: The men of Team Coulson bond over vintage spy gear…sort of.
Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. does not belong to me.
"Oh, Fitz," Simmons said in resignation and a small dose of embarrassment. That more than anything—including the fire on the curtain itself—was what caused Fitz to fumble with the smoke-laser before he finally got it turned off.
May's sarcastic, "Watch out, HYDRA. Here we come," had stung as well. But not quite as much.
And Skye's laughter…well, Fitz had to admit: It was great to hear her laugh again. Even if it was at his own expense.
As Fitz knelt on his knees and smothered the flames with one of the pillows, he thought to himself how he'd take the women's resignation, sarcasm, and laughter over the alternative.
"All right," Skye said once she stopped laughing. "You guys can stay here in this smoke-filled room—
"—There's barely any smoke," Fitz cut in indignantly. He turned slightly from where he was still kneeling to face her direction. "Didn't even set off the smoke detector!" Skye rolled her eyes, but any bite the gesture would have had was offset by the amused grin she gave him.
"But you do smell smoke?"
Fitz scowled at her, which was answer enough for Skye.
"And since you caused the fire, you and Triplett can help Coulson get ready here, while Simmons and I help May in the other, smokeless, room. Come on, ladies!" Fitz watched as Skye led the way to the adjoining room. Simmons followed right after her, and May took the rear.
As soon as May had shut the door closed, Fitz dropped the pillow in his hands. (The fire had already died a short while ago.) Before standing up, Fitz made sure to remove the tinted eyeglasses. Once he finally stood and faced the other men, it was only to received amused—and even impressed—looks from both Triplett and Coulson.
"Please don't tell them," he pleaded earnestly, making sure to keep his voice low.
"That was really well played." Triplett's smile widened to show his perfect teeth. "I wouldn't have thought to start a fire to distract them like that."
"Promise me you won't tell them," he pleaded again.
"Tell them what?" Coulson's voice was full of jest. "That those glasses you were wearing were actually vintage x-ray glasses—
"—and were used to look through walls for hidden rooms—"
"—or through enemies' clothing for hidden weapons?"
Fitz looked from Coulson to Triplett and started to panic.
"I swear I'm not a pervert or anything of the sort. I didn't even know what they were until I tried them on. I didn't—I didn't mean to—"
"Fitz! Relax, man." Triplett even took the extra step by putting his hands on Fitz's shoulders to try and calm him down. "I get it. I'd rather burn the place down myself than have those three women," he nodded towards the door that led to the other room, "catch me taking a peak, accident or not."
"Y-yeah. They could be scary. Simmons especially."
"Just don't give us any details."
"Speak for yourself, sir," Triplett said jokingly to their leader as he dropped his hands from Fitz's shoulders.
"Well, considering that one of those women is a close, personal friend; one is practically like a daughter to me; and the other actually played my daughter in an undercover mission—I really don't want any details."
Fitz was finally able to relax. But still, he really needed to hear them say it.
"So you promise not to tell?"
Triplett laughed out loud at his insistence.
"We promise," he answered for both him and Coulson. "Now let's make Coulson look like a scientist."