"Valentine's Day. Utter horseshite, 's what that is," Fitz grumbled into his oatmeal. "I wonder what delightful festive decoration the front desk ladies will've thought up this year." Last year they'd decked out all of the reception areas with massive bouquets of air-freshener-scented paper flowers. Just walking into work had left him gasping for air and thoroughly unamused.

"Oh, don't be such a fusspot," Jemma tutted, spooning a bit of jam into her own bowl and watching the raspberry streak swirl appetizingly into the warm mush. "This isn't the Department of Motor Vehicles, after all. The secretaries at Sci-Ops enjoy their jobs; so what if they like to do something nice for holidays?"

"But it's not even a real holiday, Jemma!" he insisted. "It was forced into existence by the greeting card companies and the florists and if you ask me, the only thing Valentine was the saint of was overcharging for chocolate."

Jemma rolled her eyes and went to tidy up their breakfast toppings while she let her oatmeal cool. Fitz, of course, took this to mean she was uninterested in his rant and promptly waved an indignant spoon at her, flicking off bits of soggy oats as he fumed.

"And I should think that, as a biologist, you'd be more offended by the anatomically incorrect hearts!" The year before last, said heart-shaped confetti had burst out of everyone's lockers. Of course it was just Fitz's luck that his thermos of tea had leaked, which meant dozens of tiny, vaguely romantic red-and-pink splotches on the title page of his proposal due that morning. "It's the worst day of the year. I should probably just stay home."

Simmons sighed as she sat back down, pausing with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "Fitz, while I sympathize with how unbearably awful it must be, you being forced to work near a few happy couples and rose bouquets once a year," her deadpan face indicated she did not sympathize at all, "we both need to be there today, remember?"

Seeing that he was still sulking, she pressed on. "I got pulled into that planning committee for the new field kits, so I'll be in the conference room all day—I need you to keep an eye on my samples, and you're meant to be keeping the California R&D lab updated on the new version of the Magic Window. They wanted the specs by close of business day."

Fitz pouted into the sweet creaminess of his bowl. "Yeah, I haven't forgotten." He didn't admit to Jemma that one of the main reasons he didn't like going into work on Valentine's Day was that Joanna, the front desk manager, always asked him if he was finally going to ask Jemma out. Apparently, it was simply unfathomable to the whole of Sci-Ops that two people could be best friends (and lab partners, and roommates) and nothing else. What's more, for the past five years, when he'd insisted on their platonic status, Joanna—matronly, well-meaning Joanna—had taken it upon herself to try setting him up with anyone else who was single on Valentine's Day.

-o-

As they walked toward the huge sliding doors at Sci-Ops laboratories, Fitz groaned at the sight that awaited them past the plate glass. "Oh, well that is just rude. Don't they know there's a helium shortage?"

He waved incredulously at the heart-shaped pink balloon arch rising majestically in the atrium lobby and the large balloon bouquets placed aesthetically around the stark white seating areas.

At his side, Jemma gritted her teeth and clutched the sleeve of his jumper in her fist, pulling him to a stop just outside the entrance. "Fitz." She turned a warning look on him. "I don't want you complaining to Joanna, or any of the support staff," she tightened her grip to make the point, "about this. It's only one day."

"But Jemma!" he hissed under his breath. "You know as well as I do that helium is a finite resource! Once it gets into the air it just escapes, Simmons! We can't make more! It just flies off into space!"

"Well, yes, it's lighter than the other gases, Fitz, that's what happens." She somehow managed to look unimpressed and sympathetic at the same time.

He grabbed her shoulders. "Space!"

Jemma pursed her lips. "I agree with you, all right? Of course I would prefer to see helium used for cryogenics than wasted on funny voices and other such nonsense—"

"Or how about scientific research, hmm? I wonder, is that perhaps what we're supposed to be doing here?"

She leveled him with an annoyed sigh. "In the States, Valentine's Day is important to people! You can't just rain on everyone's fun simply becau—"

"—quantum mechanics, superfluidity and superconductivi—" Fitz began to tick off the scientific and industrial uses of helium on his fingers.

"—Joanna and Salwah really like putting these things togeth—"

"—arc welding, leak detection—" Fitz's eyes appealed to her sense of lab safety.

"—such nice people, did you know Salwah's grandson just lost his first tooth?"

"—MRIs, silicon wafers, solar telescop—"

"Fitz!"

He cut off abruptly, ruddy-faced as one of the waving pink monstrosities caught his peripheral vision. "You know I'm right, Simmons."

"I know," she relented briefly, squeezing his hand in commiseration. "Doesn't matter. Not a word." She raised her eyebrows pointedly as they walked inside and headed towards the elevators. On the way, she lifted a hand in greeting and called out to the woman beaming at them from behind the polished onyx desk. "Good morning, Joanna!" Simmons sent her a supportive grin. "Everything looks lovely!"

"Agents Fitz, Simmons!" The older woman smiled back. "Come, have a cupcake!" She held up a tray, showing off dozens of scalloped confections sprinkled with tiny red candies.

"You can have mine," Jemma muttered under her breath. She didn't believe in that much sugar so early in the morning.

"You're the best," he grinned, making a beeline towards the sweets. Just then the elevator opened, and Jemma hesitated, looking back to Fitz, but he was chatting with Joanna as she handed him his messages and about 1200 calories' worth of baked goods. "Okay, see you upstairs!"

He acknowledged her with a nod, mouth full of cake and white frosting already smeared across his upper lip.

Joanna waited approximately half a second after the elevator doors closed before she started the Inquisition. "So, Agent Fitz, is this the year you finally ask Agent Simmons on a real date?"

Fitz winced internally, but remembered Jemma's admonition. "Oh, I don't think so," he smiled ruefully. "She's a bit out of my league."

Nailed it, he congratulated himself. In one sentence he'd shut down Joanna's line of questioning while still managing a compliment towards Simmons. Foolproof.

"Well," Joanna started, donning her matchmaker face. Fitz swallowed. Here it comes. Who's it gonna be this year? Kavita from HR? Holly from Purchasing? He bit his lip and steeled himself.

"Maybe if you gave her a balloon, she'd reconsider," Joanna schemed, plucking a ribbon from the floating bouquet on the desk and holding it out to him. "She did say she liked them…" she trailed off in a singsong.

Fitz forced his expression to remain impassive. There might not be a worse way to woo Simmons than to remind her that such a valuable resource had been squandered on party decorations. Not that he wanted to woo Simmons. But he couldn't exactly tell that to the expectant look on Joanna's face.

"Ye-esss…" he agreed reluctantly, taking the offending item. "Right, Simmons loves this sort of balloon." Hmph. For gas chromatography, maybe.

Then a thought struck him.

"Actually, have you been handing these out all morning?"

"Oh, yes! People love them. I heard a group from the Accounting Department is going up to the roof at lunchtime to set them loose and watch them fly off into the air! Won't that be pretty?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely." He blew out a whine. Why me? I'm a good person. Love my mum and everything. "Sounds brilliant. Except…"

"Mmm?" Joanna leaned forward conspiratorially, and Fitz put on what he considered his most charming grin.

"As it happens, Joanna, you've given me a great idea. But I'll need your help if I'm going to ask out Agent Simmons."

-o-

A few hours later, Fitz was hovering a bit awkwardly in their shared lab, trying to dodge the bobbing pink obstacles that filled the room from floor to ceiling. With the starry-eyed enthusiasm of a woman playing Cupid, Joanna had enlisted a veritable squadron of die-hard romantics to assist her in mildly ruining Fitz's life. Which was how he found himself staring at an enormous fuschia-and-lavender banner screaming out "Will you be my Valentine?" from where it drooped over Jemma's workstation. Vases of both silk and fresh flowers covered every lab bench and scattered petals marked a trail from the doors to where Fitz now stood, wringing his hands.

"Is that all the balloons?"

One of the switchboard operators, Leticia, nodded encouragingly. "Should be! I rounded up as many as I could from each office." She finished tying a red bow on the back of his desk chair. "They were thrilled to help, you know! You and Agent Simmons are very popular."

"Ah." He grimaced. "Is that why, ah, is that why we've got an audience?" He pointed towards the crowd of looky-loos in the hall just outside his lab, feeling his stomach sink at the implication. There was no way he could just close the doors and explain to Simmons privately. This is shapin' up to be a catastrophe.

"Oh, yes, so wonderful!" Salwah clasped her hands together and ducked her head around the pink hazards, bustling over to plant a lipstick smudge on his cheek before thumbing it off. "We've all been waiting for this day a long time. You two make an adorable couple!"

Fitz tamped down the acid surging up his throat and tried to will away the red flush on his neck. "Yep. That's us!" He laughed weakly. "Couple of blind fools, we are. Who can believe it took us this long to see what was right in front of us?"

"Oh, that's all right, dear. At least you didn't miss your chance!" Joanna swatted away a balloon that had attached itself to her teased hair and patted his hand in what he guessed was meant to be reassurance.

He craned his neck to peer down the hall for his partner, eyeing the red EXIT sign with longing. A collective gasp went up as the elevator doors dinged and opened, and the crowd parted for a visibly flustered Jemma.

"Okay, showtime! Let's give these lovebirds some privacy!" With a broad wink, Joanna bustled the other ladies out of the way, making sure they still had a front-row seat to the proceedings. He supposed they'd probably earned it. He sighed quietly and kept his eyes trained on his feet.

"Fitz? What on Earth is going on?"

He raised his head tentatively and squinted, honestly baffled at the turn his day had taken. "This, erm, it may have gotten a bit out of hand?"

Aware that they were within earshot of their audience, he shuffled forward and lowered his voice to an urgent whisper. "Play along, okay?"

Jemma's eyes snapped wide when he edged back and practically shouted, "Jemma Simmons, it is Valentine's Day and will you go on a date with me?" With a tiny tilt of his chin, he indicated the crowd of onlookers, while the set of his jaw begged her to be cool, Jemma, just be cool. For once.

His Scottish brogue boomed out again. "You are so rare and precious that when you're around me I feel like I could just float away. Also you should definitely say yes because we've wasted so many chances already and time is running out." He held her gaze, brows intense, willing her to understand.

Comprehension bloomed across her forehead, and the next moment a bubbling laugh had turned her shoes to butter and she practically collapsed into him. "Oh my God, Fitz," she chided softly. "This was about the helium?"

"Of course it's about the bloody helium," he whispered back urgently. "I got them to dismantle that ghastly arch and basically hand over every balloon in the building."

"My hero," she teased. Then, much louder. "Yes, Fitz, yes! I've been waiting for this day since I was a little girl!" She pitched forward and gave him a—gross, Jemma—deliberately sloppy kiss on the cheek. "A thousand times yes!" A cheer went up from outside the room.

Fitz put on his biggest smile and walked to the doors, turning to their audience with an exaggerated thumbs-up. Cries of "Congratulations!" and "Well done!" burst sporadically from the group and he held up a grateful hand as he addressed them.

"Thank you all so much for your help! Now if you don't mind," he waggled his eyebrows, feeling like an utter twat, "I think my partner and I might need a moment to ourselves?"

Powering through his blush, Fitz grinned significantly and rested his fingers on the doorknob. Jemma, having long since grown wise to his game, was busy closing the blinds in the lab windows. The crowd began to disperse, now dotted with catcalls and encouraging whoops, and after a long moment they were finally free of their coworkers' gossiping eyes.

"Mother of all things, what an ordeal." Fitz sank into his chair and rubbed firmly at the bridge of his nose. "And honestly, Jemma, 'a thousand times yes'? I know you're not the best at improvisation, but that was a bit over the top." He frowned and wiped the cuff of his sleeve against the spot where she'd slobbered all over his face.

"Oh, Fitz, this was your idea!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Now come on, let's see how much helium we can save before someone comes in to lecture us on appropriate workplace behavior."

Right. Because everyone thought they were now snogging in the lab. Fitz shuddered away the prospect. Kissing in the midst of toxic chemicals and biological samples was not his idea of a Nicholas Sparks novel.

"Sorry you got pulled into this," he mumbled. "I didn't intend for things to escalate that much."

"It's all right." Her tone got a bit softer. "Chances are I would have been having dinner with you tonight anyway, so it's not as if we're being so very dishonest."

She ruffled her fingers through his curls on her way to grab the pressurized tanks. "Besides, I'd much rather salvage helium with you than let those numpties from Accounting infest the nearby countryside with a load of wayward balloons. Do they even know the ecological implications of…"

As Jemma rambled on, gathering the implements they'd need and handing them off to him almost automatically, Fitz barely noticed he'd been watching her the entire time. But he did notice the quiet swell of affection that washed through his chest at the fact that his best friend would throw herself into cahoots with him, no questions, simply because he felt something was important.

They worked smoothly, Fitz murmuring encouragements now that she seemed to have found her own rant to carry on about. After a long while, both of them sweaty from exertion, they stepped back and looked at the pitiful pile of deflated pink latex and the much more satisfying row of heavy metal canisters.

"That's a job well done, then," Jemma nodded. "Ready for our big date, Valentine?"

Fitz groaned and dragged a hand across his face. "I'm never gonna live this down, am I?"

"Aww," she clucked. "Don't worry, Fitz." She batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly. "I'm going to be the most supportive pretend girlfriend you've ever had."

Author's Note:

Hehehe. Oh, fake dating trope, will we ever tire of you? Survey says: no. Hope you guys liked it!

*soapbox*
The helium shortage is a real thing (like "gonna run out within our lifetime" real); it's only cheap because of artificial pricing set by the government. So pass it on and let's save that helium for SCIENCE!
*end soapbox*

Thanks for reading! If you have a minute, check out memorizingthedigitsofpi on tumblr (she created the photo manip that inspired this fic).