Disconnected from the Headcanon prompts universe. I have a lot of angsty Fitz feelings since Agent Triplett appeared. This story started in my head weeks ago and wouldn't leave...until I somehow forgot about it, caught in other stories.
It's a multichapter: three chapters, depending on my inspiration. I hope you guys like and give me loads of feedback.
As for the timeline... Somewhere after Episode 15, before the whole Hydra mess.
Prompt is #12. Temptation.
Thanks to my Beta StarryDreamer01 who helped me edit this.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN AGENTS OF SHIELD.
flux, n
The natural state. Our moods change. Our lives change. Our feelings for each other change. Our bearings change. The song changes. The air changes. The temperature of the shower changes.
Accept this. We must accept this.
-The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan-
Their mission had been long and tiring.
The whole Team's common thought was to get to the Bus, shower and get a good and very appreciated night's rest.
Unfortunately, the Bus was a three hours car drive from their current location, a small town in the middle of the mountains of Switzerland that was far from any SHIELD facility. Even May didn't want to venture on a long car trip in a non familiar area.
After a quick talk with them, Agent Coulson opted for the team to stay at the town's local hotel and then leave in the morning.
So that's what brought them here, all standing in the hallway adorned by paintings, a few pictures from old guests and a cuckoo clock. On their right was a small guest room with a Tv set and, soft couches and armchairs while on their left, there was a door that, judging by the lingering aroma, led to the kitchen. There were large windows framed by heavy drapes that showed the lush landscape.
The hotel had a domestic and home-like hint to it: there was a warmth that radiated from its wood panelled walls and richly draped tapestries.
All in all, the hotel seemed quite comfortable looking.
The Team stood around the small reception table, all carrying their backpacks and -in FitzSimmons' case- metal cases. Exhaustion was clear on their faces though it was more prominent on the younger agents.
Ward was doing the talking with Coulson, both speaking in fluent French and would every now and then, turning around to give an update to May and Skye who were standing at their sides. The hacker looked close to falling asleep right there on the plush carpet in front of the desk and just nodded to whatever Coulson said while May stood in silence.
FitzSimmons stood a bit behind, their equipment cases at their sides and forced their tiredness away as they tried to listen to quick exchange between the older men and the woman at the desk.
The kind faced woman at the reception was leafing through the hotel's reservation book and checking which rooms were available.
After a few minutes, she looked at Ward with a chagrined stare.
"Je suis desolée, Monsieur."
-:-
Jemma was listening to the conversation between Ward, Coulson and the woman and kept Fitz updated, translating quickly. Her French was not as fluent as Ward's but she understood everything.
She saw Ward's face fall for a second.
"Oh," she said, as she heard the receptionist talk. "It seems that there are only three rooms left."
"Wonderful," Fitz remarked with a huff. "So we're all bound to share a room. How is it even possible that this bloody hotel is almost full? There isn't bloody anything here!"
She rolled her eyes at him. A tired Fitz was also a rather grumpy Fitz. She listened carefully as Coulson asked Fitz's question -in a more delicate and polite way.
"It seems that there is a famous skiing resort an hour away from here," Jemma said. "People booked their rooms here so they could pay less."
Fitz muttered something incoherent under his breath. She failed to hide a smile at his antics and resumed to listen to the conversation again.
She felt him shift closer to her to listen better, felt the back of his hand ghost her hand, caught a soft whiff of his cologne and she felt the familiar slight flutter in her stomach. She promptly ignored the feeling and concentrated.
It was happening too often lately...
She dared to glance at Fitz and found him staring at her, blue eyes trained on her face. The flutter turned into a full whirlwind now. He smiled softly, making her automatically copy the action, and then averted his gaze.
"We'll have to decide who rooms with whom," he commented and looked at her with a grin. "Dibs?"
"Do you even have to ask?" She asked with a teasing tone and a raised eyebrow . "It won't be any different from when we're back at our houses for the holidays."
Fitz looked at her curiously for a moment before nodding in agreement. She ignored the fluttering in her stomach again and almost missed the exchange between Ward and the receptionist.
Her eyes widened.
"What?" Fitz asked immediately. "What's wrong?"
"Two rooms have twin beds," She explained quickly as Ward jabbered in quick French. "The other one had one queen size bed. Ward's asking if two extra beds or cots can be added to the double rooms but it seems that it might n- no, they can't do that."
"Wonderful..." Fitz stated. "This complicates things..."
Jemma silently agreed.
They were all dead tired and it was almost eleven o'clock, she doubted that they had the patience to start to discuss about their night accommodations after being on their feet for forty eight hours.
"We'll be here for hours," she said with a sigh and watched as Ward informed Skye and May about the rooms. The hacker, who looked as she about to fall asleep there on her feet, suddenly looked alert. "Oh God, Skye looks like she's about to fight her way to one of the double rooms."
"Well... Can't really blame her. If we're taking the same room, she'll probably end up with May. Imagine her and May sharing a bed."
Jemma glanced at him and then at the brunette. She realised that he was right.
"Hmm… We might end up tossing a coin to decide who goes with who."
Fitz looked alarmed.
"God, no," He remarked, running a hand through his hair. She turned to him again and smiled sympathetically. She could understand his sentiment: the thought of sharing a room -or God forbid, a bed- with May, Coulson or Ward was just plain awkward. She wouldn't sleep or relax or anything.
She wouldn't mind sharing with Skye: they were both girls and both too dead on their feet to even bother to talk as they did during their girl nights. But that would leave Fitz out with the older agents.
May and Ward: they wouldn't share unless they were forced to, she supposed. Given their history and previous affair/relationship, she doubted they could share a bed together.
Skye and Ward: no way... The blatantly obvious tension between those two would cause an explosion.
That left all the combinations with Coulson and that was awkward to say the least...
As for Fitz...
Somehow the thought of sharing a bed with him put her in a state that she couldn't define as awkwardness. They had shared a room countless times, sometimes a bed at the Academy when one was too tired to go back to his or her room.
She was used to him: he didn't make her nervous. Even the small moments of embarrassment that would cause a blush to invade her face (moments that had increased after the Chitauri incident) had slowly disappeared. During those months in the Team, their relationship had shifted, allowing their seamless intellectual bond to stretch to their physical proximity too.
She was aware of his presence -she had always been aware of his closeness- but it didn't cause her any tension or nervousness.
He just made her feel something that sent tingles through her heart. Made her question her emotions and their not-at-all-platonic tint. It made all the questions that had filled her mind since the Academy to come back with renewed strength.
Jemma sighed through her teeth: what the bloody hell was she doing, thinking of this now?
She looked at Fitz who was staring at their teammates with a wary expression: he was probably deciding who was the less objectionable roommate for the night if a coin was really tossed to make decisions.
His forlorn expression and her own tiredness made her make a quick decision.
"Fitz."
"Hmmm?"
"Are you tired?"
"Knackered."
"Me too and I desperately want to shower and sleep."
"Yeah, me too."
"We could leave the others deal with the rooms, you know?"
"And just how...?" He turned to her and stared, seeing her face and her arched brow. "Oh." Of course, he would understand right away.
"It would be just for a night... Some sort of Academy/Sci-Ops revival?"
He snorted.
"Night before final exams revival,yeah... " He commented absently, scratching the back of his neck. He looked thoughtful for a moment."If it doesn't bother you, then..."
She frowned slightly at his words. He said things of these sort often lately...
"It doesn't bother me, Fitz," She retorted. "I suggested it."
"Right then..."
She walked forward to their teammates and heard Skye saying that she kicked in her sleep and shouldn't be sleeping in a bed with anyone.
Smiling slightly to herself, Jemma stepped past her and turned to Ward.
"Which are the keys to the room with the queen bed?" She asked. The specialist blinked at her and picked a small key with a wooden charm attached to it. "Fitz and I will take that."
Ward stared at her. As did Skye with her mouth open. May and Coulson didn't even blink.
"Oh..." Skye recovered and smirked. "Anything to share, Simmons?"
Jemma rolled her eyes at the teasing hint in her voice and failed to stop the slight blush flooding her face.
"It's just a bed," She replied. "And just for one night. And-"
"-we've already shared in the past when we were at the Academy." Fitz added, approaching her with their equipment cases. "Plus, we're bloody tired."
They waited for anyone to protest but their teammates didn't say a word. Coulson and May actually looked at them with something close to relief mixed with amusement. Jemma didn't linger to think too much about that...
She looked at the receptionist.
"Pardonnez moi, ou est cette chambre?" She asked.
"Première étage, mademoiselle," the woman replied, seemingly surprised that she knew French as well. "C'est la neuvième, dernière chambre à gauche."
"Merci beaucoup, madame."
Jemma turned to Fitz.
"Room number 9, first floor, the last one on the left," She said and he nodded, taking the stairs with both their cases before she could stop him. She turned to look at Agent Coulson.
"At what time are leaving tomorrow, Sir?"
"We'll take it easy," he said with a slight smile. "I'd say we have breakfast or even lunch here and then leave. The Bus and the SUV are both locked so we don't have to worry of anything."
"Alright then..." She looked smiled at her teammates. "Goodnight."
Skye leaned forward towards her.
"You and I have to so talk about this bed sharing thing you and Fitz do," she whispered teasingly. "How have I never heard of this before?"
Jemma blushed.
"Because nothing has ever occurred," She replied hastily and turned to leave. "Goodnight, Skye."
She took the stairs before the hacker could say anything else. Jemma might have learned to keep a straight face while being undercover; she might have learned to keep her composure but Skye could still read her thoroughly when she lied.
And she had just openly lied now.
Something had occurred.
Once.
There had been one moment when she and Fitz had crossed the line in their friendship.
It was during the summer of their first year at Sci-Ops.
Fitz had been in a right state, worried for his mother who was ill at home and couldn't leave because they were needed at the lab. She had stayed by his side as he regularly called home, speaking with his sister until he got the news that his Mum was fine. He had almost cried in relief.
Some of their co-workers and friends from the Sci-Ops facility, after hearing the news, crashed into their shared apartment that night, bringing food and drinks. She and Fitz were the youngest, barely twenty at the time, while the others were all above twenty five and made it their personal mission to make the Scottish engineer drunk.
Fitz had been sloshed beyond belief -the first and only time she had seen him like that- and when everyone left, a kiss and a little more had occurred between them.
She remembered falling on his bed with him, side by side, as she literally carried him in his room, swaying on her way inside as she was, a bit tipsy too. She recalled the look on his face, soft and searching as his fingers reached for her face and caressed her cheek, and her heart thumped loudly.
And then she remembered his lips closing on hers, tongue mapping the inside of her mouth and hands skating over her body.
Her lips and hands hadn't been idle either...
It had taken her weeks to shake off the feeling of him touching her.
She tried to keep the memories from invading her head because that night had literally shifted her feelings towards Fitz in a direction that she was still struggling with.
It didn't help that she was the only one that remembered that night either. Or maybe it did...
She walked through the corridor, admiring the soft lighting coming from old fashioned lamps that gave the wood panels a golden glow. There were small paintings hanging on the wall, mostly of local landscapes.
Halfway to the room, she saw Fitz talking with a girl that, by the looks, had to be working in the hotel.
Tall as Fitz, blonde with clear green eyes and who looked at Fitz with a very appreciative stare. Jemma ignored the twist in her gut and approached them. They both turned and Fitz smiled at her.
"Do we need to ask to be woken up tomorrow?" He asked as soon as she was by his side. "The hotel has some sort of alarm clock service by phone or they send someone to knock on the door."
"No," she replied. "Agent Coulson said we're leaving probably at lunch."
"Thank God..." Jemma smiled at his relief. She noticed the other girl staring at them. Fitz looked at her and spoke in fast German to which the girl replied quickly.
Jemma didn't know a word of German and just watched as the two talked. At some point, the girl's eyes fell on the key Jemma was holding and she blushed. She then animatedly said something to Fitz and pointed to a the last room of the corridor. Fitz's eyes widened but then he nodded and swiftly took the equipment cases by his side. Jemma reached for one but he shook his head at her.
"I'll take them," he said, smiling slightly. "You open the door."
"Alright..."
The girl stared at them and then left after bidding them goodnight in German and French.
"What exactly did she say?" Jemma asked as they walked to their room. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything..." Her tone was light and teasing.
Fitz snorted.
"Yeah, sure... " He drawled. "She said that our room's the best suite in the hotel; probably thought that we're eloping or something." He glanced at her. "She actually said that we make a wonderful couple."
Jemma laughed slightly, ignoring the constant flutter in her stomach.
"Well, wouldn't be the first time we've been mistaken for a couple," She remarked. "Though I do wonder where she got the eloping part. It's not like we're dressed or have any particular luggage."
"Hell I know..."
She took in the room as he entered and it was quite different from what she had expected.
It was surprisingly spacious and cosy and likewise pleasant.
"Huh," Fitz remarked, putting the cases down and looked around as he walked in. "This is what I imagined would be the room of a teacher at Hogwarts."
-:-
Jemma laughed and he grinned at her.
But then again, he wasn't that wrong...
The room was all wood panels and soft drapes, plush carpets and mellow lights. There was a fireplace in a corner; a fire started and crackling merrily filling the room with warmth and an orange glowing light.
He saw a door on his left that was probably the loo and a small window at the right that was now closed, blinds and curtains drawn.
There was a table just near the door with two chairs. In the middle, the bed that occupied most of the space.
It was a poster bed with heavy drapes over it. Large, very comfortable looking with white pillows and sheets and a thick maroon quilt. It was winter and even though it was gratefully not snowing, it was still very cold in Switzerland.
"Come on, Jemma," He said, turning to her. "Look at that: it's like a larger version of Harry's bed, drapes and colours and all."
"What, his bed hit by an Engorgio spell?" she teased and he grinned.
"Sort of..."
She laughed softly again and walked past him, dropping her bag on one of the chairs. He picked up their equipment cases and moved them by the table.
"Shouldn't we send the data now?" She asked, making him look up at her. Jemma had removed her coat and was slowly taking off her scarf. "We could have the lab's analysis system work on it while we're here."
"I was thinking about that," He replied, tugging his scarf off and tossing it along with his coat on the other chair. He opened one of the cases and took out his tablet and typed the passcode to remotely access the lab.
He waited for the program to load and glanced at Jemma. She had neatly draped her coat and scarf on her chair and retrieved an hairband from her bag to tie her hair into a loose ponytail.
He watched as her fingers curved to gather her caramel strands and quickly twisted and turned until they were all held together by the small black band. A few wisps rebelliously stayed out and fell on her face.
Fitz looked away as the sudden urge to lean forward and tuck those tendrils behind her ears surged in him. He shouldn't be thinking along that train of thought.
And he shouldn't be observing her like that, with that intensity, all the time.
They were friends. Best friends.
He was her friend. Nothing more.
That was all he was to her.
He should grateful for that. He shouldn't think more of himself and muck up something that meant the world to him.
He looked at her again: she was taking her tablet out of the case.
She meant everything to him.
He watched as she rubbed her eyes with a hand as she swiftly tapped her logging password to the lab's system.
She looked exhausted.
"Go and take that shower," he stated, making her look up at him, hazel eyes wide in surprise and confusion.
"What?" She said. "No, I'll go later. First-"
"No, I'll send the data. You go and take a shower."
"Fitz..."
"Why not? It's not an operation that requires both of us: it's just tedious and long. I'll work on both our tablets and have the data stream going."
She still looked at him uncertainly.
"You should take my offer... Had it been paperwork, I would have never suggested to work alone." He smiled as a smile made its way to her face. Her eyes lit up and he ignored the clench in his chest. "Really, Jemma... Go ahead. I'll do the work and you'll finish it later."
"Alright..." She conceded and put her tablet on the table. She smiled again. "Thanks, Fitz..."
He shrugged good naturedly and smiled back.
He watched as she walked to the loo and closed the door behind her. He felt the smile slide off his face as he sat on the chair, swiftly typing on the tablet.
Friends.
That was all they were and all they would be.
What had he been thinking to get more out of their relationship? Jemma was brilliant, beautiful and charming. When they first met at the Academy, he had been flabbergasted to have her smile and talk to him.
His first thought had been: 'Whatever does she see in me?'
She saw something: something that made her stay by his side. And he had enjoyed her presence, basked in the sunshine that was her smile, laugh and voice.
He had fallen for her early on, already at the Academy but he had been too scared to even try to make a move past their friendship.
It had been at Sci-Ops that he had dared to hope in having his feelings reciprocated.
It had been their last year at the Sci-Ops lab in Boston.
They didn't know it then -they hadn't been called to join the Team yet- and some of their friends had dragged them off to a New Year's party. Jemma had somehow gotten herself drunk as hell and he had managed to get her back to their apartment safe.
And things suddenly escalated...
She had literally plastered her body to his, the moment he got the front door locked. He had ignored all the reactions his body was having and got her to her room, hoping to tuck her in and possibly throw himself under an icy shower but she had other plans.
The moment he laid her down, she tugged him by the tie, latched her arms around his neck and connected their lips together.
His brain, not completely addled with alcohol, just short circuited.
He raked a hand through his hair and sighed as he recalled that night.
She had kissed him senseless and he had allowed it. He had responded to it.
They hadn't slept together: he wouldn't have allowed that when Jemma was drunk but they had touched each other in ways that friends really didn't. Her hands had wandered up and down his body just like his had.
The feeling of her still plagued his dreams sometimes.
When they woke up in the morning, dishevelled but clothed, and in the same bed, he had been distraught to hear that Jemma didn't remember anything of the previous night.
His hope just vanished in thin air... but he kept it to himself, bottling up the disappointment.
Because he had been a damn fool.
How could he have thought that a drunk kiss would change their relationship?
He had buried his hurt and pain deep inside himself and just reacted against it. He had dated other women and stayed as a friend by Jemma's side. She had dated as well.
Some part of him hoped that the feelings would pass, that he would only feel friendship for her and be content with it. He didn't want the yearning for more...
He wasn't granted that wish. He was given more heartache.
When Jemma was infected by the virus and then jumped from the plane, he realised that his feelings had changed.
He loved her.
At the Academy, it had been a crush. At Sci-Ops, mixed feelings.
Now it was love.
And he had hoped again because they had been getting closer.
Almost losing her had made him more protective. He didn't even cast a glance at any woman that wasn't her.
She was more concerned for him. He remembered their talk before his mission to Ossetia, her concerned voice and small touch on his hand before giving him the sandwich.
He had hoped again...
But it all crashed down. Again.
First her obvious interest on Mike Peterson... but he had justified it as a mere crush.
But then Agent Triplett appeared.
He couldn't find any excuse for him.
The specialist was clearly interested in Jemma, fawning over her and speaking highly of everything she did.
Bringing her gifts.
Making her smile with flirty jokes.
Asking her out.
The bloke was smart too since he could actually have an intelligent and coherent conversation with Jemma.
And Jemma was interested.
Last week, Jemma accepted to go out to dinner with him. They were at a SHIELD facility in Delaware and they were bound to be there until morning.
Fitz found out about the date when Jemma was leaving, escorted by a grinning Skye to the cargo ramp. He had been in his room most of the day since they didn't have any project to work on and had come out to look for Jemma, wanting to suggest watching a film together. He walked down the spiral staircase, figuring that she was in the lab but instead found her standing with Skye by the ramp. Agent Triplett approached the women when Fitz was almost at the bottom step. When he saw the specialist, he froze.
His heart just cracked in two and fell somewhere close to his feet as he saw her smile at the man. And he couldn't help the surge of jealousy and, most of all, envy towards Triplett because he could take her out.
He had that chance while Fitz didn't.
Triplett could ask her to a date and be openly affectionate with her, showing his interest without restraints. He could spoil her with gifts that weren't only meant for holidays but that he could buy just for her.
He could win her affection and love without the restraints of SHIELD's Section 17 that forbid non-platonic relationships between teammates.
Fitz couldn't do that.
He was stuck in his status of best friend and couldn't do any of those things without tipping her off about his feelings. Feelings that, at this point, weren't reciprocated or she wouldn't be going out with another man, would she?
He expected the pain that squeezed his heart, expected the feeling of losing something he had longed and yearned for for years.
He didn't expect the resignation. Not so fast.
He had gone back to his bunk, fleeing before Jemma or anyone else could see him and just laid on his bed.
His thoughts had wandered on their own, making him relive moments spent with Jemma, healing and then ripping his heart apart again. Then treacherous thoughts of what Jemma and Triplett could be doing on their date made him clench his hands on his pillow until his knuckles were white.
Jemma was back a few hours later and he was down in the lab, working on an old project to keep his mind busy.
He felt relief in seeing her, even though it was almost eleven at night. He didn't know what he would have done if she had come back in the morning...
She walked inside and stared at him and he looked at her. She was wearing a dress over her leggings and short heeled shoes. His eyes fell on her face with barely any makeup and hair tumbling in soft curls down her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were confused and, he realised, concerned.
She was worried because she cared for him. Jemma loved him only as a friend, but loved him nevertheless.
He had smiled at her, an odd numbness getting to his heart, and asked how her night had been. She looked surprised for a moment and then just nodded.
His smile hadn't faltered.
He could do this. If Jemma was happy, as a friend, he could be happy for her.
He loved her too much to make her unhappy.
Fitz's eyes focused on the tablets in front of him and he watched the percentage bar coming to the end. All the data they had collected with the DWARFs was almost uploaded to the lab's system and would be processed overnight.
He still felt that numbness in him. The pain had ebbed away but the void in his heart had lingered.
He interacted with Jemma as usual: they were still FitzSimmons inside and outside the lab and he realised that he was resigned to the fact that this was all he could have and ask for.
He was resigned to be a friend and partner.
Fitz dragged his hands on his face.
He had to start accepting this and stop thinking about being more for his sanity.
-:-
Jemma towel dried her hair, a small smile on her face as she relished on the warmth still lingering on her body.
The shower had made her feel better: she was still tired and still wanted to lie in bed and sleep but the exhaustion had somehow been washed away.
Having no change of clothes, she had put on her jeans and blouse over her undergarments again. The room was quite warm so she didn't expect to feel cold during the night; especially with the fire and that immense, warm looking quilt.
She ran her fingers through her hair, carefully threading through knots and tangles and then took a brush, smoothing her long strands down. Once she was done, she picked up her sweater, tie, socks and shoes and padded barefoot from the loo.
She was greeted by a pleasant warmth as she opened the door and walked on the carpeted floor and didn't regret leaving the steam filled room.
She put her shoes on the ground, in a corner and was going to walk towards Fitz and tell him to go and have a shower when she froze on the spot.
He hadn't heard her come out.
He was sitting on one of the chairs, slouched and with his head tilted back. He had his hands on his face and she couldn't see anything but a sliver of his jaw. His neck was tense and teeth gritting tight.
Fitz looked as though he was in pain.
Something twisted in her chest at his half hidden expression.
Seeing him like that was just wrong...
"Fitz?"
He shot out of his seat in one movement, almost knocking down the table with his knee. He turned to her in surprise, hands now hanging by his sides.
She would have laughed or teased him for being jumpy if it wasn't for his eyes.
Surprise was there but mingled with a hint of something she recognised as pain. Pain for what she didn't know but it flashed through his eyes too often lately.
And there was something else: some emotion that she couldn't identify and that had been lingering in his stare for days.
"Didn't hear you there..." He said, smiling slightly. His face was calm and serene as it had been before she left to shower. His eyes were clear all but for that foreign emotion that she couldn't identify.
She approached him, laid her folded clothes on the chair with her things before looking up at him.
"Something wrong?" He asked, frowning slightly as she stayed silent.
"You tell me," she replied softly. "You had your hands on your face."
He stared at her and for a moment, she thought that he would finally tell what was going on with him.
Jemma had noticed that something was off with him in the past weeks.
At first, she thought that it was their new life on the Bus with constant dangerous missions: she thought that the missions were getting a toll on him. He was adjusting to the field work just as she was, although she noticed it was making him turn darker and hardened his attitude.
Ever since Agent Coulson's kidnapping, she assumed that he was tense and moody for the situation and for having their leader taken away right in front of them. She still couldn't shake off his face and words when he said that he didn't care if they killed the Centipede soldiers. It was something so unlike him, so different from the Fitz she knew that it had concerned her deeply.
But that wasn't his problem: she learned that soon. Fitz had gone in multiple field missions (without her) and had gained the Team's respect for his help and attitude. Agent Coulson, May, Skye and Ward had all praised him.
The more serious and seasoned Fitz appeared frequently but the old Fitz still lingered and came back mostly when they were in the lab or when they spent time together.
The thing that worried her was more subtle.
In the last weeks, Fitz seemed to be normal as ever but every now and then, he would space out and that unknown emotion would flit in his eyes.
No one in the Team seemed to see this in him. Jemma was the only one to notice.
"It's nothing, Simmons," he said with a smile. "Just tired."
He was hurting and he didn't want to talk about it.
He didn't want to tell her about it.
Her heart clenched at his response.
"Are you sure?" she asked, pressing on.
"Yeah..." He pulled off his jumper and took off his tie, draping them over his coat. His hair was mussed and flying everywhere, shirt slightly askew as he looked at her and smiled again. "Just tired."
She nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach because she knew that he was lying though she didn't know why.
"The data has loaded correctly,"he added, quickly tapping on his tablet.
"Alright..." She smiled. "Go ahead and take a shower. We had a long day."
He stared at her again, a curious look on his face but nodded and moved past her and to the other room.
She sighed softly and picked her tablet, quickly logging off the lab's remote access system and did the same from Fitz's device. She then took her phone and tablet and walked to the bed, sitting on the right side.
She checked for any calls or texts and then put the phone on the bedside table. She heard the sound of the shower and her thoughts flew back to her concern over Fitz.
It didn't just bother her that he didn't want to tell her what was hurting him. It pained her.
In all these years of friendship, they had always been each other's confident. Family problems, study or work anxieties and even dating tips were commonly shared topics between them.
She always listened to him, even when he spoke of girls and she felt a twist in the gut but she gave him advice nevertheless.
It had always been like that...
What had changed now?
They had been growing closer in the last months, their usual synchronization even more seamless at times and their thoughts and actions in perfect coordination. Personal space didn't even exist between them sometimes.
And then something changed. Again.
Whatever was bothering Fitz didn't create any issue in their partnership.
It was deteriorating something in them.
After the Chitauri virus, she had had trouble keeping her feelings to herself. Fitz helping her during the quarantine and walking into the lab, disregarding an eventual infection made her realise that what she felt for him wasn't just a crush harboured since the Academy.
During Sci-Ops, she had learned that her feelings for him were deep, deeper than she ever thought. Their drunk kiss during their first year there, had made her question her friendship with him.
She didn't have many close friends -Fitz was the closest she had- but even she knew that kissing a friend, responding to a kiss and still thinking about it and the not-so-innocent-touches exchanged during that inebriated moment wasn't normal.
Yearning for more, to be physically closer, wasn't normal between friends either. That's what made her flee from his room once he had fallen asleep and hide in hers where she spent a sleepless night, still feeling his hands on her body and his lips ghosting her lips.
When Fitz had stumbled out of his room, the day after, completely oblivious to whatever had happened after dinner, had made her heart crack a little.
Some part of her had hoped that he would remember so that they could talk and maybe move their relationship to another level.
Another part of her had been relieved. It meant that their current relationship was safe. It meant that she didn't have to face the possibility of Fitz not being interested in her romantically and creating a rift between them. Losing him scared her to death.
The Chitauri incident had been the catalyst to unearth all her carefully hidden feelings.
She was constantly searching his gaze during missions or worrying when he was out in the field.
His mission in Ossetia had forced her to express some of that concern tangibly and it come out in the form of his favourite sandwich, a quick brush of fingers and a forced encouraging smile.
What she had really wanted to do was to hug him, kiss him even, and make him promise to come back to her safe.
But she hadn't.
And she hated herself for being such a coward.
Biting her lip, Jemma picked the tablet and went through her emails. She was rummaging through old book and magazine subscriptions when a ping on her phone alerted her.
She picked it up and saw a text from Skye.
[0:15 – Skye]: I'm sharing with freaking May! She's so quiet that I don't even realise we're in the same room and I jump when I see her in front of me!
Jemma snorted. She could almost imagine the scene of Skye surprised by May's presence. Trying to disperse some of the sadness and gloom shrouding her heart, she quickly texted back.
[0:17 – Simmons]: Would you rather have been with Ward then? ;)
The answer was quick.
[0:17 – Skye]: Don't. Even. Start. Simmons. And you're the one sleeping with Fitz now, aren't you?
A blush attacked Jemma's cheeks fast and on its own accord. She really shouldn't have mentioned her crush on Fitz during one of their girls' nights. She had denied that the crush was still there but Skye had scoffed at her. Jemma realised that she truly was terrible at lying.
[0:18 – Simmons]: We're just sharing a bed. Nothing more. We're not involved in anything like... that.
She couldn't deny the fact that she wanted more. The yearning had been there for years and she had subsided all those needs and feelings for so long...
[0:19 – Skye]: Yeah, sure... Tell that to someone else, Simmons. You're so in love with Fitz that it's insane he doesn't see it. And he's so in love with you, it's insane YOU don't see it. And you won't believe me when I say it!
Jemma sighed, the feeling of hope rising immediately in her chest at her words squashed by her darker emotions. There had been a moment after the Chitauri accident that had made her believe that he cared more...
[0:18 – Simmons]: Skye, stop. We're friends and partners. Nothing more. Please.
The jealousy he would show towards other men had given her a sliver of hope. The protective stance he had towards her made her wonder if he shared her feelings.
The little bubble of hope shattered last week.
She had been asked out for dinner by Agent Triplett and while a part of her was rather flattered and pleased by the offer, the other part almost felt guilty for being asked out.
Skye had been there and had scoffed at her when she expressed her doubt of going out with a man who she barely knew. Skye summed it up rather well: she was single, without any relationship or attachment and besides, it was just dinner not a marriage proposal. What harm would it do to accept?
And, the hacker added with a sly grin, it would help to make Fitz jealous and shake him out of his stubborn shell.
Jemma was conflicted. Skye's words weren't thoroughly wrong: she wasn't committed to anyone -even less to Fitz- and going out to dinner with Agent Triplett wasn't establishing a relationship.
And, the specialist was quite handsome and the woman in her was quite proud that he was interested in her.
But a little voice in her head kept saying that if the roles had been reversed and if Fitz had gone out with a woman like she was about to do with Triplett, it would have hurt her deeply.
Her pride won over her doubts at the end.
She was dressed simply but decent enough for a dinner -Skye had suggested outfits that had her way out of her comfort zone- and was waiting for Agent Triplett to pick her up.
Jemma was almost sure that she caught a glimpse of Fitz by the stairs when the specialist arrived. Years of being around each other in close quarters had made her sensible to his sounds: the squeak of his shoes, the cadence and thread of his footsteps or just his mere presence.
When she turned around, she caught a shadow going upstairs.
Nothing revealed that it was him, it was only a mere shadow, but something inside her told her that it was him.
And he hadn't shown himself. Or spoke to her. Or done anything.
He had just left.
The twitch of disappointment for his behaviour made her leave with a heavy heart but with the conviction that going out with Agent Triplett wasn't wrong.
Dinner had been nice: Triplett -or Antoine as he had told her repeatedly to call him- had reserved a table at an Italian restaurant where he treated her with a nice dinner and wine.
He had been very pleasant and they talked throughout dinner. He walked her back to the Bus and parted from her with the promise to keep in touch and see each other again.
All in all, it had been a nice date.
But Jemma knew that as nice as Triplett had been, he wasn't who she wanted.
When she walked back into the Bus, she saw the lab lights on and Fitz inside, working. It surprised her because they hadn't been in the lab all day since there hadn't been any imminent work or project to be done. Wondering if something had occurred while she had been away, she walked in, ready to ask Fitz about any sudden mission.
But the look he gave her made every word die in her mouth.
It was the first time she ever saw that look. The unknown emotion dancing in his eyes despite his calm face and smile.
Jemma didn't even remember when there was something she didn't know about Fitz. Not knowing something about each other had become foreign months after their first meeting.
The mere fact that she didn't understand him was impossible for her.
And then he asked her about her dinner with Triplett and something just broke inside her.
He knew but didn't seem to care about it.
It didn't bother him.
She had managed to keep her emotions at bay without making him see how his words had hurt her. She nodded and told him that the night had been fine.
Jemma ran a hand through her hair and sighed.
Nothing had been fine ever since.
It was alright if they were with the Team or in the lab: they were just FitzSimmons there.
It was getting hard to be Fitz and Simmons when they were alone. It was hard to behave as friends while her heart ached for something that was one-sided.
Suddenly the thought of being alone with him in a hotel room and sharing a bed seemed like a horrible idea...
A ping from her phone snapped her out of her reverie.
[0:28– Skye]: Ok... Sorry. But talk to him, tell him. You can't keep your feelings to yourself forever. Goodnight. :)
Swallowing dryly, Jemma mulled over Skye's words before bidding her a goodnight.
The thought of confessing her feelings had crossed her mind more than once but the fear of ruining their relationship was still too strong.
The fear had increased as the years passed and their relationship grew stronger.
She realised that the only things she had ever hidden to Fitz were her feelings and their drunk snog during their first year at Sci-Ops.
Nothing else.
Almost nine years of knowing each other and the only secrets she kept from him were about her feelings.
She realised that a married couple probably had more secrets than they did... All in all, confused feelings aside, they did seem like a married couple.
Jemma sighed again and put her phone away. She had to push away this temptation to change their relationship.
Thinking about it would drive her mad sooner or later and there will come a moment when it would interfere with her interactions with Fitz.
Her only concern now should be to get to know what was bothering him.
That's what friends did.
She reached for her tablet and opened the Pictures folder. She smiled as she rummaged through the oldest images, the ones that they had taken while they were at the Academy.
She traced a finger over a picture of her and Fitz in the Boiler Room: their first time together there, she remembered, and they were beaming at the camera.
They looked so young...
They were happy to be friends at the time. She was incredibly happy to have found a real friend, one that understood her thoroughly.
Fitz confessed her that he had never had a friend before her.
The door clicked and Fitz came out of the loo, freshly showered, barefoot, in jeans and cotton undershirt. He dropped his shoes next to hers and draped his shirt on his chair.
He walked to the left side of the bed after grabbing his phone from the table, checking it before looking at her.
His eyes were clear and calm now as was his face. There wasn't any trace of the emotions she had seen flickering previously. She tried not to notice how his sandy brown curls, still damp with water, went in every direction, shadowing his eyes and face.
Jemma smiled slightly as he sat down on the bed. He looked at her curiously before smiling back.
"Is it alright if I turn off the light?" He asked, turning on the lamp on his bedside table. "With this and the fireplace, we've got plenty."
"Alright," she replied, turning on the lamp at her side.
-:-
The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the fireplace and the mellow lamplight. Fitz walked back to his side of the bed and glanced at Simmons who was sitting on the quilt, with her back on her pillow and legs stretched in front of her. She was skimming through something on her tablet and looked up as he approached.
Her eyes took a golden tint with this lighting, her entire face glowed in a way that made his heart thump loudly in his chest.
He tried to ignore this and settled on his side of the bed.
It had taken the whole ten minutes in the shower to clear his mind and behave normally. The last thing he wanted was for Jemma to notice something or worry about him.
He hadn't however thought about the fact that they would be sharing a bed and be closer than usual. Or that she could knock the breath out of him in every moment without even trying hard, like she did right now.
Why the hell had he suggested to take a room together?
He would have gladly accepted the awkwardness of being with Coulson, Ward, Skye or even May now rather than having to put up a charade with Jemma.
She would notice that something was wrong with him... She knew him well.
He had been careless before. He hadn't heard her and she saw him trying to pull himself together.
Fitz leaned against the headboard, fluffing the pillow at his back and glanced at Jemma.
She was still looking at her tablet and seemed quite calm. He was dreading for the moment when she would question him.
Knowing Jemma, she must have seen through his lie easily and she would want answers for that.
They never hid anything to each other. Never lied.
Years of solitude before their meeting had led them to be honest and frank about anything.
How could he tell her that he was fine and that everything was alright while he honestly wasn't fine? How could he explain that staying by her side as a friend and nothing more, knowing that she cared for him but didn't love him as he loved her, was slowly destroying him?
It would break her. Break them apart.
Swallowing dryly, Fitz shut his eyes for a moment, sinking into the pillow and gathered his thoughts.
He had to be strong and keep his façade.
For his sake and hers.
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