After I depressed myself (please don't ask), I thought I'd watch How I Met Your Mother (HIMYM) to cheer me up. While watching, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Lily & Marshall and Fitzsimmons. These sets of couples met at an educational facility (be it the SHIELD academy or Wesleyan University), were constantly with each other since, usually had the most engaging storylines (to me anyway), are sort of the comic relief characters who get their major dramatic moments from time to time (*cough*Marshall'sdad*cough*), have amazing chemistry—having been a defined pair/partnership since their first episode- and are usually seen on screen together a good chunk of the time, and at one point have spent a great portion of time apart.
So why not take one of my favorite Lily/Marshall plots and cater it to SHIELD canon with Fitzsimmons as the central pairing? Obviously because I'm sleep deprived and I don't know where I get these ideas. It's sort of AU, post season 2, Skye is now called Daisy, and FitzSimmons are in an established relationship.
"Come on Jemma," Fitz was grumbling, "I don't want to go as it is." He gave an exasperated sigh as he walked off toward the living area where Mack and Daisy were finishing a video game.
"Not excited for our week off, eh Turbo?" Mack inquired as he noticed Fitz's disposition. "I admit, this isn't the best mandated vacation spot, but at least we're not stuck at the Playground or on some plane."
"Bonus, we're in a giant ass suite with our own rooms and an indoor pool," Daisy countered.
"Can't you at least try to enjoy yourself?"
"I would if Simmons and I weren't visiting Louis and Amanda."
"Who?"
"And who?" Daisy added.
"Old friends from back at the academy," Fitz explained. "They live nearby and Jemma got back in touch. She wants us to go visit them and their bairn."
"Bairn? Isn't that like a baby?"
"That's what bairn is exactly."
"Called it!" She did a mini celebration at getting that right and defeating Mack. "And people say you can't learn anything from cartoons."
Mack gave her a sideways glance as he turned the game off. "What cartoon did you learn that from?"
"Lady and the Tramp, duh."
"I meant that move you just used to beat me."
"Experience."
"Right," Mack directed the focus to Fitz. "Why are you being so dramatic about this? I thought you and the Mrs. were gonna start trying for a baby?"
Fitz fidgeted a little as if he was trying to avoid this discussion. "It's not so much the baby I've got a problem with as it is the parents."
"Didn't you say they were your friends?" Fitz nodded. "And you don't want to see them because?"
"Because they're not meant to be together, not romantically anyway. Louis and Amanda are better when they're far apart from each other."
"As opposed to you and Simmons?"
"Put me and Simmons together, and it's like magic. Put Louis and Amanda together and it's like World War Three. And to answer your question: the only reason they ended up together is because he got her pregnant after a drunken night at some pub called MacLaren's. I wouldn't mind seein' their little one, but-"
"-we'd really rather avoid being caught in the middle of another one of their ongoing spats," Jemma concluded Fitz's thought as she came onto the scene. "But Louis and Amanda are old friends of ours and I'm dying to meet their newest addition. I'm also hoping we can help them decide on a name for their daughter."
"Their baby doesn't have a name?" Fitzsimmons shook their heads in response to Daisy's query. "How long ago did they have it?"
"Ten weeks and five days ago."
"About two and a half months ago," Fitz replied the same time as his wife. He waited for a pause before admitting, "though Jem's prob'ly got it more exact than I do."
Simmons rolled her eyes. "It's just going to be a quick visit and we'll more than likely be back in time for Happy Hour," she gave Daisy a quick hug. "Be seeing you. Come on Fitz."
"Oh sure, now she moves."
Daisy and Mack couldn't help but chuckle as he left. "So," Daisy turned to her video game partner, "what's your plan for your first day off, Mack Bueller?"
"Not having you call me that again," Mack jested.
"Okay, fair enough. Hey, maybe you and I can do something."
"Like what?"
"Like…think of something to do."
"Such as?"
Daisy groaned before reaching for the remote. "Screw it, let's just watch some TV."
…
"Aww," Simmons could not stop fawning over her friends' baby, "look at this little darling little sweetheart." Fitz couldn't help but smile as he watched her interact with the baby. "Gosh, I just love her smile; she seems like such a happy baby."
"She must not get it from her mother," Louis snarked.
"Well, let's hope she doesn't get her looks from her father," Amanda had a ready comeback, however.
Fitz did his best to avoid eye contact with them and stuck close to Simmons. "So have you two come anywhere close to decidin' on a name?"
"No way," Louis answered back, "that stuff is harder than you can ever imagine."
"It's not just one of the biggest life decisions ever," Amanda began, "but it's something that needs complete and total agreement from both parties."
"I mean, I seriously like the name Cindy."
"And I think that's a whore's name."
Louis glared at her. "It's my mother's name."
Amanda smirked back at him. "I know."
"Here's a crazy idea; why don't we name the baby after you? How does the name Uptight Shrew sound?"
"I've got a better suggestion: let's call her Vodka. That way you'll hold her tight and never let her go," Amanda stormed out.
"Don't knock the vodka; wouldn't have the kid without it," Louis called after her before he left.
Fitz waited until they were out of earshot before talking. "Jemma, please tell me that's not goin' to be us."
"Of course not," Jemma assured. "Fitz, we love each other and we want to have a family."
"Exactly."
"And even if I did get pregnant right away, we'll still have time to think of a name."
"Right! I mean it can't be that hard to settle on a permanent name for the rest of someone's life," he and Simmons looked down at the baby.
"Look at her. I mean, she's clearly a…" Jemma paused to think of a name. "Clara."
"Amy." Her husband had also simultaneously verbalized his name choice.
"Amy?"
"Clara?"
They shot somewhat panicked looks at each other amidst the awkward silence. "Well…" Simmons cleared her throat, "…it never hurts to prepare early, right?"
"Uh...I guess not."
"So I say we go back to the suite and come up with a list of potential names for our future child."
"We don't have to worry about a last name right?"
"No; but try and think of a first name that fits well with 'Fitzsimmons'."
"Naturally."
…
Fitz and Simmons had met up with Mack, Daisy, and Bobbi at the suite's bar later that evening to discuss each of their name suggestion lists.
"Before you start readin' off your list there Turbo," Mack cut Fitz off, "try to avoid the names of scientists, mathematicians, scholars, science-fiction/fantasy characters, or any educated sounding, old person's name."
Fitz looked over his list. Then he crumpled it up and tossed it aside. "Well that doesn't leave me much option, now does it?"
"Don't be too hard on them," Bobbi chided Mack, "they like those type of names."
Daisy agreed with Bobbi. "I'm thankful you guys don't like preppy names like Brittany, or Tiffany, or Becky," She couldn't help but shudder at the last name.
"What's wrong?"
"Mack and I watched MTV this afternoon. They've got some live, pop culture news show hosted by this blonde bimbo named Becky and her shtick is talking like a little girl."
"Yikes."
Mack shrugged. "I dunno, I think it kinda worked for her."
Daisy evidently disagreed with him. "Seriously?"
Bobbi sided with Daisy. "Could someone please explain why the little girl act works on men?"
"Long answer or short?" Hunter entered as if on cue.
"Neither."
"Short answer," Hunter put on a seductive face, "who's your daddy?" The women expressed their displeasure at that.
"That phrase is kinda creepy if you think about it," Daisy noted. "I mean if Fitz were to put on one of those faces and say to Jemma 'who's your daddy', that would be messed up."
"How would that be messed up?" Simmons questioned.
"In that scenario, because Fitz made what I'm assuming is sweet, sweet love to you," Fitz turned fifty shades of reddish-pink, "you are now his daughter."
Fitz made some sort of aggravated noise. "No! That's not the case. Jemma would not be my daughter. I would be her dad-" he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "never mind."
"See, creepy."
"And it's not like the opposite would work," Bobbi pointed out. "A man can't go around talking like a little boy to pick up women."
"Fifty bucks says I can," Hunter wagered.
"You're going to hit on a woman while talking like a little boy?"
"What say you and I go on about town, and I try to hit on the local girls by talking like a little boy? And I'll do it within twenty-four hours."
"You're on," Bobbi got up to leave with Hunter. "Be the easiest fifty bucks I ever made."
Mack shook his head in disbelief as he watched them leave. "I still can't believe those two were ever married."
"Okay," Daisy was bringing back focus, "so we got nowhere with Fitz's list. Come on Simmons, what's on yours?"
Simmons read over her list. "I'm certain Fitz and I had the same ideas."
"You don't have anything remotely normal or not smarty-pantsy?"
"Is that even a proper term?"
"Hey, I never claimed to be a smarty-pants. Now come on, what's on your list?"
Simmons gave her list another glance over. "Well I thought about honoring true to mine and Fitz's ancestral roots so I did try to think of some Scottish and English names. I even considered gender neutral names. I do have Leslie written down."
"Not Leslie!" Fitz interjected. "Leslie was the name of my childhood bully. Tormented me all throughout primary and most of secondary school."
"Oh Fitz, was Leslie that bully who broke your arm in second grade?"
"You'd figure with a name like Leslie the bully would be the one getting teased," Daisy commented.
"How do you mean?"
"Well, it's not really a common name for boys. If that Leslie guy was from America then-"
"I never said Leslie was a boy." Daisy mouthed 'oh' as an embarrassed Fitz fidgeted in his seat. "Now that we're all done tormenting my husband; if you're curious as to the names I have picked out for a girl, I've jotted down ones like Isla, or Bonnie, or Mackenzie."
Mack raised his glass. "That one's got my vote."
"I also suggested the name Delilah."
Mack had a Cheshire-cat grin on his face as he looked at Fitz. "I'm sure that brings back some bachelor party memories, hey Turbo."
Fitz did think back to that rather unpleasant, yet unforgettable memory of the exotic dancer at the impromptu bachelor party held in his honor (and provided by Lance Hunter, of course). "No, not Delilah." Fitz nervously played with his shirt collar. "I think I need a drink. Mack could you…"
"Sure," Mack followed Fitz to the drink station, "what's up?"
Fitz quickly reached for his crumpled up list that had landed near the drink station. "This!"
Mack read over his list. "A lot of these names don't surprise me."
"But what do they all have in common?"
Mack reread the list. "These are all boy names."
"I didn't really consider the consequences of having a daughter." Fitz clutched his stomach.
"You okay?"
"Could you imagine being the father to a girl who ended up like Delilah? I can!"
"Gentleman," a sleazy emcee's voice rang throughout an obvious strip club, "give it up for Fitz's daughter."
A teenage girl, the perfect combination of Fitz and Simmons, came onto the stage wearing next to nothing and began dancing. An older Fitz soon came on to the stage frantically trying to remove his jacket and cover the girl with it (but was failing miserably).
The teenage stripper gestured to the older man behind her. "He screwed up my childhood; that's why I do this."
"And I don't like it!"
"Come on, Turbo-"
"I don't understand the female mind; but most women I've come across have 'daddy issues'. That could someday happen to me. The little madam could make bad choices to spite me! She could...oh my God." Fitz quickly turned around in shame.
"I want you to meet my boyfriend," the provocatively dressed girl led the older Fitz to a man obviously wearing a toupee. When that man turned around, Older Fitz let out a high-pierced shriek.
The toupee wearing man was an even older looking Lance Hunter. "Hey baby," Hunter roughly pulled the girl close to him, "who's your daddy?"
"You are because of all the sex we have."
Mack waved his hand in Fitz's face to bring him back to reality. "She could what?"
"Believe me: you don't want to know."
…
Long after everyone had settled in for the night, Fitz was still having trouble falling asleep (still having vivid fantasies about the possibility of raising a daughter). Afraid he would wake a peaceful slumbering Jemma, Fitz sat alone in the kitchen with a hot cup of tea and his thoughts.
"Penny for your thoughts?" alone until Coulson showed up anyway.
"I can't sleep," Fitz admitted.
"Wanna talk? I mean I'm no Andrew Garner, but-"
"I'm afraid of what'd happen if Jemma and I had a daughter."
"Is she pregnant already?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Does this have anything to do with those friends you visited?"
"Sort of." Fitz was playing around with a teabag. "We got around to preparin' names for our future lil' bundle and my list was entirely devoid of girls' names."
"I suppose that's normal," Coulson sat beside the younger man, "most men do want sons."
"The thought of raising a daughter freaks me out."
"You're hoping for a son?"
"I know it shouldn't matter, but honestly, yeah. Don't get me wrong, I'd be happy either way but-"
"I think I can help you with conceiving a son." Fitz gave Coulson a suspicious look. "None of which involve me sleeping with Jemma or you being the one carrying the child," Fitz let out a relieved sigh. "I meant, I know some methods that are guaranteed to ensure you and Jemma have a son."
"What's your method? Did you Google it?"
"I know you're a man of science, but I'm confident my method is far more effective."
"How would you know? You don't have any kids."
"Have you heard Asgardians refer to me as 'Son of Coul'?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I guess that statement has some merit. I may not have children, nor do I have any siblings, but every Coulson man bearing sons goes back hundreds of years. Most of the Coulson men had all sons—with one or two daughters in the mix of a bunch of boys. Legend has it that one of my ancestors desperately wanted a son. When he felt like he was getting no help, he prayed to every type of God there was. And when a Viking father of seven sons heard his prayer to a Norse God, he passed his secret onto my ancestor. Since then, it's seemed to work."
"Was this Norse guy part Asgardian?"
Coulson shrugged. "It's a possibility." Fitz bit his lip in consideration. "And don't most Asgardians have sons anyway?"
"Okay," Fitz threw the teabag aside, "what's your method Son of Coul?"
…
As the twenty-four hours drew to a close, a despondent Hunter sat at a booth across from his ex-wife.
"Here," she slid him an ice cream sundae, "on me."
"I can't believe I'm going to lose fifty bucks."
"I can."
"I thought for sure the 'wrestling with our special bathing suit places' would work."
"No. Coming from a little boy, it's kind of funny. Coming from you, it's disturbing."
"There's no syrup on this sundae."
"So what?"
"So, if I'm going to wallow in my own self-pity than I'd prefer to wallow with chocolate syrup on my sundae. Get me chocolate syrup!"
"What's the magic word?"
"Now!"
"You are so impossible," Bobbi got up and went back to the counter (grumbling about her ex-husband being an overgrown toddler) as Hunter hunched over his ice cream and began scarfing it down without the syrup.
"Yum," an attractive woman in a tight-fitting outfit approached Hunter, "that sundae looks delicious. Can I have a bite?"
Hunter protected his ice cream. "No! It's my ice cream, you can't have any! Go away!" He didn't seem to realize the childish manner in which he responded.
"Ooh, someone needs to teach you how to share." She leaned in close, her chest at Hunter's eye level, "Who's your Mommy?"
A stunned Hunter quickly ran from his seat and over to Bobbi. "Bob, sod the chocolate syrup, I've got me a booty call!"
"What?" Bobbi noticed the girl. "Did you-"
"Don't ask me how, but I swear to God it worked!" The girl seductively beckoned for Hunter to go over to her. "And this time I'm actually looking forward to getting spanked."
"Ugh," a disgusted Bobbi showed him away, "just go." A horny Hunter ran back to the booth and left with the girl.
…
"Here we are," Fitz held the door open for his wife, "the bedroom; a room for us to do bed things in." He winced at his poor choice of words.
"Fitz, if you're really that nervous, we don't have to do this now," Jemma assured. "Procreation is a big responsibility and-"
"No, Jemma, I'm ready. We're ready." Fitz looked at his watch. "Or at least we will be in the next five minutes?"
"Why did that sound more like a question?"
"I just need five more minutes."
"I suppose. This would give us time to-" Fitz had already slammed the bathroom door shut before she finished her thought.
He quickly opened the bathroom door, said "Love you," blew Simmons a kiss, then immediately slammed the door shut and locked it. Once alone in the bathroom, Fitz pulled back the shower curtain where an assortment of items rested in the tub. He paused for a moment to think back on Coulson's instructions.
Coulson acted as though he was giving a lecture. "This ancient Norse wisdom dictates that in order to sire a son, the man must first complete a series of tasks before lying with his maiden."
"Maiden?"
"Stay focused Fitz. Now first and foremost: avoid lemons. Apparently lemons are some sort of baby girl fertilizer."
"No lemons, got it. What next?"
"Then you eat pickled herring."
"What? Ew? That's bloody ridiculous!"
"Do you want a son or not?"
"Can I cook the herring?"
"No, you have to eat it right before going to bed with Simmons."
"Fine, eat the nasty herring, then what?"
"It's not going to get any better, Fitz."
"What? Do I have to eat a bug?"
"You won't have to put anything else in your mouth." Fitz let out a relieved sigh, "but if you want to ensure the continuation of your noble male lineage—the Vikings' choice of words, not mine—you'll have to…how can I put this delicately?"
"Have to what?"
"You have to put your penis in a bowl of ice for at least ten seconds."
"WHAT?" Fitz's voice seemed to go up an octave.
"After that there's not really much else to do. Just make sure Jemma's facing north and hopefully nine months later you've got a son. If not…well then you can say you tried something new in the bedroom."
A nervous Fitz stared at his reflection for a moment. "I can do this," he quietly told himself as he opened a recently purchased jar of pickled herring. "Mr. Simmons did say he'd like a grandson," Fitz used his free hand to plug his nose. Afterwards, he put the fish in his mouth and tried not to gag. After he completed that task, he picked up the bowl of (recently frozen) ice, set it on top of the toilet seat, and took off his clothes. Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he took the literal plunge and dunked in his manhood into the bowl of ice and screamed bloody murder.
"Fitz?" Simmons tapped on the door.
"Coming!" he quickly grabbed the robe hanging from the bathroom door hook and threw it on before running back into the bedroom. "Okay, let's put a baby in you." He clumsily pushed her onto the bed.
"Fitz, why are you cold down there?" She got a whiff of his breath, "And what have you been eating?"
"I'll explain after the sex. First, can you position yourself like," he guided her to where he wanted, "okay, now we can-"
"Fitz!" Simmons pushed him off of her. "Are you trying to ensure we have a son?"
He blinked at her in surprised. "No." But he stood no chance when she shot him that glare of disappointment. "Okay, yes, but…" a sudden thought occurred in Fitz's mind, "…but how did you know what I was trying to do?"
"I always do my research, Fitz."
"Does that explain the lemonade you were drinking earlier?"
Now it was her turn to blink back surprise. "Well…"
While Fitz was in the bathroom, Simmons took this opportunity to try her home conception method. First she got a compass to ensure which way would be south, then she ate a lemon and washed the taste away with lemonade (which wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do), but then she had to complete the final task: heating up her reproductive area to a balmy 105° Fahrenheit (40.5556° Celsius). For that, she plugged in her blowdryer, aimed it where it needed to go, and turned it up to the hottest setting. "Oh that's…that's not bad, actually."
Of course, Fitz caught on. "You're trying to make us have a girl! How could you do…" Fitz calmed himself, "…exactly the same thing I was doing?"
"It's not that I wouldn't be happy with a boy, Fitz; I would love our child and be happy no matter what it was. It's just…well I know how to take care of girls. Plus I've always wanted that mother-daughter relationship like I have with my Mum. And you know I always feel women are superior to men."
"But women are scarier!"
"Fitz-"
"Think of the Disney Villains, the worst of them are the women! And think about all those creepy, horror movie children, Jemma. It's almost always a little girl, or creepy twin girls that talk in unison."
"What about Chucky?"
"One: he was a doll. Two: he was possessed by an adult, male serial killer. And third: how could you bring up Chucky right before bed?"
Simmons sighed. "Well we're obviously not going to do this tonight, are we?"
"Obviously not."
"Maybe we just need a little more time to relax, and think this through."
"Yeah."
"But if you want to sleep in this bed you better get that rid of that fish breath."
…
"Look who's on the walk of shame!" Mack jested as Hunter returned the next morning. Daisy, meanwhile, applauded and whistled.
"I'd bow, but I think I threw my back out," Hunter shuffled to his bedroom and plopped himself onto his bed and moaned. "I haven't had a night like that since Fitz's bachelor party."
"Hunter," Bobbi came over to him ready to hand him a fifty dollar bill, "a bet's a bet."
"Keep it."
Bobbi was a bit taken aback by that. "Oh. Okay, thanks." He moaned again. "Rough night?"
"Rough morning."
"How so?"
"Tried to get away from a desperately clingy bimbo."
"Ah."
"I swear, I'm done with women like that."
"That'll be the day."
"No, I mean it," he propped himself up to look at Bobbi. "I don't want to have to deal with anymore needy women."
"Oh, so I didn't make you feel needed when we were together?"
"Consider that a compliment, love. No man is ever gonna say 'who's your daddy?' to Bobbi Morse. You're your own daddy…and your own mommy…and your own weird survivalist, gun-toting uncle blaming everything on the government and shouting off conspiracies." Bobbi laughed at that. "Sometimes I wish I never gave that up." They stared at each other for a moment. "Now if you could please take your fifty bucks and leave so that I may recover from last night."
"Alrighty then," Bobbi gave him a rather hard slap on the back in mock pride causing him to scream out in real pain (much to her delight), "see ya later."
…
Simmons finished examining Louis and Amanda's baby. "Well, I completely agree with the doctor's diagnosis."
Both the baby's parents blew out sighs of relief. "Thank God," Louis was the first to talk.
"Thanks so much, Jemma," Amanda thanked. "There's really no one else's opinion we trust than yours."
"Yeah, the thanks really goes to you, Simmons. Nothing against the doctors, but it's kinda hard to trust their judgement at three in the morning."
"Plus we waited at the hospital for hours."
"It was one of the worst things we've ever had to go through."
"There is nothing scarier than waiting to hear medical results when it concerns your child."
"At least you two can agree on that," Fitz noted.
"That's not the only thing we agreed on."
"That seems rather cryptic."
"It happened when we rushed the baby to the emergency room with an extremely high fever."
"The nurse wouldn't admit her unless she had a name," Louis continued.
"And in that moment Louis and I realized how stupid we were being."
"We realized we were the ones being the baby and we needed to grow up and take care of the life that we created; the life that we both love."
"In that frenzied moment, my eyes met with Louis' and…it just came to us."
"What did?" Simmons asked with utmost curiosity.
"Her name," Louis answered.
"Oh, she finally has a name?"
"Yeah."
Amanda nodded before adding, "And what's even more awesome is that in the background, a song with her name was playing."
"It was like destiny, or karma, or something."
Fitz raised his hand to acknowledge he was about to speak, "So what, is her name Destiny? Or Karma? Or Something?"
Amanda picked up her daughter as Louis looked on with pride. "Guys," Amanda couldn't wipe the smile off her face, "we'd like to properly introduce you to our daughter,"
"Delilah," the parents both proudly said in unison.
Fitz did his best to suppress a gag and chalked it up to being moved by the name choice, "That's a beautiful name."
…
Daisy and Mack were pigging out on popcorn while watching the day's live MTV news show. "Is it me," Daisy was pointing to the crying reporter on the show, "or is she crying like a baby instead of talking like one?"
"It's not you," Mack replied.
"Live television, man."
"I'm sorry," on TV, Becky was desperately trying to stop sobbing, "but I just met the most meanest man in the whole world." She described in detail the night they shared together. "But worstest of all, he wouldn't share his ice cream with me!"
"Mack," Daisy tried to piece her words together, "…do you think that girl just described Hunter?"
The two of them shuddered before turning the TV off.
…
"We were being idiots, weren't we?" Simmons broke the silence between her and Fitz during the ride home. "Names and genders, what should it matter? It made us seem like we had control over all that and-"
Fitz cut her off by kissing her. "I love you Jemma."
"I love you, Leo."
"And I promise I'm goin' to love whatever baby we have."
"Me too."
"But if you wanna get a head start on names, we should prob'ly pick a unisex one."
"I totally agree."
"One that we both agree on and caters to what we want in a name."
"Absolutely."
"And it wouldn't hurt if it was somehow related to Doctor Who." Simmons scoffed at that. "What, you think I'm jokin'? Come on Jem, even you had to put a few companion's names on that list."
"We both suggested Who related names for Louis and Amanda's baby."
"Maybe we should name our future baby Doctor?" Simmons started laughing. "That's unisex!"
"I thought you were set on choosing a name based on a companion. I'd figure you would have suggested the name of your favorite companion…
Fitz started talking as she continued on, "Yeah, but the only one I can think of with a unisex name is…"
"…Rory," FitzSimmons said in unison.
"Fitz," Simmons was trying to hide her emotion, "we just named our baby!"
"Heck yeah, we did!" they high fived each other. "Man, this parentin' thing is goin' to be awesome!"
The HIMYM episode rip-off is "Baby Talk" (season 6, episode 6). This story also included references to Doctor Who, Lady & the Tramp, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Thor, Child's Play, and MTV. Oh and the song near the end that got the mention is supposed to be 'Hey There Delilah' by the Plain White T's. Louis and Amanda are my own original characters.
Will I do more fics like this? Even I don't know about that. Don't get me wrong, if someone wants me to do one to a specific episode (not necessarily limited to HIMYM btw) I'd be more than happy to. But until then, just enjoy this fic.