Jemma Simmons tightly grips her acceptance letter in her fist, a bright smile fighting its way across her face.

"Be cool," She thinks to herself, "Don't want to embarrass yourself on the first day…"

The steps to the school are a bleak grey, and in her mind, the red-brick building seems to tower over her, diminishing her tiny frame. She straightens up, drawing herself up to her full, nineteen-year-old height, and takes the first step.

When nothing implodes, and she doesn't self-combust, she releases her breath and walks up the rest of the steps more confidently. She swings her bag forward, stuffing her letter into her bag. She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, and she plasters on a confident grin, marching into the building.

She doesn't know why she's so nervous, she did this the first time around with earning her first and second PhD, she doesn't know why she gets butterflies her third time around.

She's not earning a PhD this time, maybe that's why she's so nervous. She hoped to get an actual MD, and perhaps teach at an university or become a doctor. Or maybe work in a crime lab, that's always been a fantasy of hers.

A long, wide hallway greets her, and many women and men, older women and men, are rushing back and forth. She stumbles a bit as she makes her way through the hallway.

"The second right then a left," her dorm floor supervisor had said.

Jemma followed the directions, and soon found herself at her destination.

She pushed open the door hesitantly, grinning when the room was only half-full. She'd have hated if everybody had turned to stare at her because she was late.

She sat down at the front, eager and ready to learn.

The teacher, (Mr. Helm, tall, thin, and white) is followed by a man wearing a black suit and glasses.

"Students," Mr. Helm begins, "I know you wouldn't like to start off your first semester with an evaluation, but it will not count on your grade and is just to see where you are in the class."

He hands out thick packets of paper to each of the students, and Jemma dives into her bag for a pencil.

She's the first to finish.

She hands in her test, and the teacher raises an eyebrow but dismisses her, citing that she could leave and hands off the test to the man in the suit.

She nods, and shuts the door quietly behind her.

She thinks nothing of it, until she gets a call three days later.

FILE #3ACBG Recorded Conversation DATE: 2003 Sept. 10 TIME: 1304

*ring* *ring*

"Hello?"

"Hello. May I please speak with Miss Jemma Simmons?"

" … She's here, hang on. Simmons! It's for you."

*Clatter*

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon. This is the Agency of S.H.E.I.L.D. We request that you please meet with us at 3:00PM today. A car will be by to escort you. The agent escorting you will show you a badge. Thank you."

*Click*

FILE #3BCBG Recorded Conversation DATE: 2003 Sept. 10 TIME: 1500

COULSON: Good afternoon. My name is Agent Phil Coulson.

HILL: Agent Maria Hill.

J. SIMMONS: Jemma Simmons. Er… Dr. Jemma Simmons, I guess.

COULSON: We just have a couple of questions for you Miss Simmons.

J. SIMMONS: Alright.

HILL: Do you know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is?

J. SIMMONS: Sorry, no.

HILL: S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. We are an primarily based in the U.S., but run missions internationally.

COULSON: The test you took the other day – in your class? That was an assessment. We were looking for somebody with your talents. We need more scientists, more researchers, and we think you have the potential to be a wonderful agent. Perhaps not a field agent, but you would have the chance to work in a high-tech lab, with technology that is not even from this Earth.

J. SIMMONS: You mean… Aliens are real?

COULSON: Yes.

J. SIMMONS: *laughs* I knew it. Is the anatomy the same? I have to know. Do they have the same vital organs. Is their DNA even the structured the same way?

HILL: You'll be able to do all the experimenting you want at S.H.I.E.L.D.

COULSON: However, you will have to give up your scholarship and attend a S.H.I.E.L.D. academy. After that, we'd assign you a partner and you'd begin working for S.H.I.E.L.D.

J. SIMMONS: Would I get a chance to explain this to my parents, before I leave?

COULSON: Of course. We'll fly you to your parents and then send you to the academy right away – we want to get you started as soon as possible.

J. SIMMONS: Um. Al-Alright.

Leo Fitz grasps his bags tightly, the building seemingly a ramshackle shack in the middle of nowhere.

This is supposed to be the grand S.H.I.E.L.D. education building? Where, according to the two agents, his "hopes and dreams of adventure were to come true"?

He pushed open the door, and grumbling, but soon pushes away his thoughts when he sees the clean, white interior. A circular white pad is in the corner, and Fitz hesitantly steps on.

He is whooshed away downwards, and he clutches his bag tight to his chest in shock. An agent greets him when it comes to a stop.

"Morning," he says, "You're late. Lucky there's no class today, Vaughn is a pain in the ass when it comes to tardiness. Fury wants the fresh meat to feel 'welcome' so you have two days to settle in. Get your quarters settled and all that."

He slaps a stack of papers into Fitz's already full hands.

The agent taps the paper, "Room assignment, your schedule – everything from when you wake up to when you can go to take a piss – is right here. Rule and regulations underneath that, and a map of the facility is under that," he hands Leo a laminated card with a picture of a stunned-looking Leo on it, a shiny silver clip on it. The agent snaps it onto Leo's pocket, "Nice picture," he snickers, "This is how you get food, towels, toilet paper, check out books from out library. You want to leave the campus – take this with you, it's how you're getting back in. Got it? Good. You've actually got a female dorm mate, which is pretty rare, but good on you, eh?" the agent slaps Fitz on the back, "Have fun," he says, and walks off to greet the next new arrival.

Fitz nods, and looks down.

Leo Fitz; Engineer

LEVEL 4B – ROOM 23A

ROOM 23B: Jemma Simmons; BioChem

Schedule (Mon. – Fri.)

700 Wake up Alarm

745 Breakfast

800 Morning Exercise

820 Bathroom Break

830 Classes

1230 Lunch

1310 Bathroom Break

1320 Training

1500 Recreation

1700 Study Time (Mandatory)

1800 Dinner

1900 Recreation

2300 Lights Out

The hallway was quite large, had a front desk with a rather intimidating-looking agent sitting at it, and six sleek, clear tubes that served as elevators.

"Erm… sir? How can I get to… here?" Fitz asks, pointing to his room number.

The man looks up from his magazine, "Take the second elevator, then count the room numbers until you hit it. Two door, you're in 23A, you're dorm-mates in 23B. Don't bother me."

Fitz nods, "Thank you…" he says, trailing off when he realizes that the guard isn't listening.

He steps into the middle elevator, and presses the button labeled '4.' It whooshes past floors, and Fitz catches glimpses of people playing games, watching telly, eating, studying. He soon arrives at his floor, and the glass door slides open.

Grey doors, and a long green carpet that extends the whole hallway. The rooms start with the letter one, odds on the right, even on the left. Two doors, "1A" and "1B".

Fitz jogs slightly to his room, not wanting to be caught lingering in such an empty hallway.

…11A, 17B…

23A.

He pushes the door open, and is slightly disappointed. No window – they're underground, what was he expecting – a small bed, a bookshelf with a dictionary and a few reference books, along with a dusty S.H.I.E.L.D. manual. A dresser is pushed against the other wall, next to the bathroom.

Fitz pokes around the bathroom, and finds a shower and a door that leads 23B.

A few feet from the bathroom door is a wide, empty doorway that also leads to 23B, giving him a good view of the same accommodations as his room.

Against the adjacent wall is a black desk with a laptop on it, with a cup full on pencils.

He grins at the laptop, and flings his suitcase inconsequentially onto the bed. He sets his precious bag of spare parts onto the desk and begins working, finding the laptop already loaded with the graphing and coding programs he needed.

There is a sudden opening sound in the other room, and a female sigh echoes through the room. Fitz hears a clank and a muttered curse. Fitz hesitantly goes to the other room to investigate, and sees a pretty, brown-haired girl fumbling with the clasps of a specimen bin, which had apparently tumbled to the ground just seconds earlier.

"Need help there?" Fitz asks.

"That would be much appreciated, thank you," she says. When she gets it open, the stench of rotting flesh hits his nostrils and he recoils.

"Argh, what the hell," he whines. Leo likes clean. Clean labs and straight lines and sanitary.

"That was my specimen of Clathrus ruber!" she wails, desperately trying to separate the specimen from the bits of broken glass.

Fitz pulls away, holding his nostrils, "What is that?"

"A rare fungus they discovered in Wales – I managed to get a sample and now it's destroyed," She shakes her head, as if lamenting the loss of a loved one, and flicks away a piece of glass despondently, "I was hoping to distill the manganese it collects and…"

She stops speaking, suddenly, looking up and hastily shoves the fungus back into the specimen box, closing the clasps, and pressing a button on the a small panel he hadn't noticed before by her door that opened the air vents.

In seconds the awful stench was gone, and Fitz released his nose, sucking in a breath of fresh hair.

She stuck her hand out, smiling apologetically, "Sorry for rambling, I'm Jemma Simmons. You're… Leo Fitz, right? I read you're an engineer. I'm a biochemist, but you, erm, probably knew that."

Leo takes her hand, shaking it and picking up her suitcase and another light brown messenger bag.

"What's in the bag?" Fitz asks.

"Some notebooks – some of them are filled and others aren't, I…"

Fitz interrupted her, knowing what she was about to say, "Always keep a pen and paper handy?"

Simmons nodded, beaming.

Fitz set down her suitcase by her dresser, then placed the other bag on the desk.

"What are we supposed to do tomorrow?" Jemma asked, sitting on the bed while Fitz took her desk chair.

He shrugged, "Bond, watch movies, run experiments."

She grinned, "Sounds like a lot of fun."

A/N: I think this is going to be a three-shot, going the three days before they actually have to 'learn'. I really like this pairing, they're really cute together, and I like how in the show Fitz seems really protective of Simmons.

This, is an "origin" story, I guess. I'm trying my hardest to keep it canon-compliant but it's probably AU.

Anyways. Thank you for reading, tune in for the next chapter, maybe.