Author's Note: It's been awhile since I posted anything (but on the bright side, I'm officially done applying to colleges!), and I know this isn't my usual sandbox, but I've completely fallen in love with FitzSimmons. They are my complete reason for watching AoS. And I can't be the only one, right? Who else is hardcore shipping these two, whether romantically or as Science Bros? Title comes from Coldplay's "The Scientist" which is fitting, no? This will probably be shorter than my other stories because I'm mostly just testing the waters with this fandom. Let me know what you think, please! I, as always, do not own these characters, but I wish I did.
"Freedom at last! Finals are over!" exclaimed Simmons as she and Fitz made their way through the not-very-freshly plowed sidewalks of campus. The slush was almost ankle-deep, splashing onto the thighs of her khakis, where her pants were unprotected by boots.
But Simmons didn't care and, despite all his harping on about the cold, she doubted the weather could ruin Fitz's mood either. It was a beautifully sunny (albeit freezing) New York day, their last semester exams were snugly ensconced in their professor's hands for grading, and they had three weeks of uninterrupted leisure time ahead of them.
"I don't know about you, but the first thing I'm doing is taking a nice long nap. I'm absolutely knackered and after tomorrow, I'll be completely jet-lagged, too. And a worn-down, overstressed Jemma is no one's idea of a merry little Christmas."
Fitz smirked at her, rubbing his arm where Simmons knew a nasty bruise still lingered from days ago. "Don't I know that firsthand," he commented dryly. "At least your family doesn't have to deal with no-sleep, no-caffeine, three-exams-to-go Jemma. She's dead violent."
Simmons rolled her eyes. Sure, she'd felt guilty when she saw the bruise the first time, but for heaven's sake, the boy's skin was like a peach. She couldn't help that he was so, ahem, delicate.
"What are your plans, then? Heading home to the family for the holidays?"
Fitz grimaced, shoving his hands into the deep pockets of rumbled overcoat. It wasn't a good idea; Simmons knew he was liable to keep all sorts of bits and bobs on his person at any given time, and sure enough, he immediately swore and withdrew a slightly bloody finger.
"Dunno what I'll be doing over break. My parents are going through their third midlife crisis on a cruise somewhere in Barbados. Probably won't be back until after Christmas, so I'll just be kicking around the house by myself."
Simmons stopped walking abruptly and Fitz, with his wounded finger in his mouth, turned to her with a quizzical look. "What's wrong?"
"Fitz, you can't spend Christmas alone! That's positively criminal!"
Fitz shrugged, unconcerned. "Even if I'm alone, at least I'll be alone in Embra. It'd be worse to stay over here for the holidays, I think."
Simmons shook her head. "No one should have to be alone on Christmas! It's the season for family and friends and – and goodwill towards men, and all that. You can't be holed away by yourself for that. You can't even cook properly!"
Fitz blushed, perhaps remembering, as she was, the Great TV Dinner Fire of '09. He shrugged the memory off, saying, "I would've gone with my parents, but they left before finals were over. I wanted to make sure I had enough time to study – I don't want anything to jeopardize this thing with…"
His voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulders conspicuously, before hissing quite loudly, "You know. SHIELD."
Simmons nodded, understanding completely. Only a month ago, they'd been offered lucrative positions with the agency after their graduation from Cornell next spring; after their eager acceptance, both Simmons and Fitz had found their tuition paid and their student loans erased, and neither one wanted to risk the amazing opportunity they'd been offered.
What exactly they'd been recruited for, they didn't know. They were only told that they'd have the chance to study under some of the most brilliant minds in the world, and that SHIELD believed their skills could "help make the world a safer place." They'd even been selected together, as a pair, which was perhaps the best part; after stumbling into a friendship with Fitz during the first year of her undergrad program, Simmons wasn't sure she could leave him behind for any job, no matter how well it paid.
And she certainly wasn't about to leave him behind now. "I'm leaving for Newcastle tomorrow night. Why don't you come with me? You can spend the holidays with my family and we'll drive you up to Edinburgh once your parents get home. If you can't spend Christmas with your family, you should at least be with friends."
Fitz frowned slightly, his eyebrows crinkling in what Simmons recognized as his "deep in thought" face. Through a series of unfortunate circumstances, including a quarantine, a minor explosion, and an escaped monkey (Fitz's fault, but don't ask), Fitz had never met her parents. It was odd, she knew, as they'd been close friends for almost 7 years now, and she was eager to introduce him to her family. She knew they'd love him, and perhaps then they'd stop hinting in their letters that they didn't believe Fitz was real (no matter how many pictures of the two of them Simmons sent, her mother always commented on how lonely she must be in New York all by herself).
"Come on, it'll be great! My mum always makes too much food anyhow, and she adores guests."
Fitz grinned, then frowned again. "I don't want to be a burden, having you drive all over the UK."
Simmons scoffed. "It's about two and half hours to drive from Newcastle to Edinburgh. Come on, Fitz, we've never spent the holidays together before and my parents are dying to meet you. And furthermore, I can't stomach the thought of you ordering takeout and singing 'White Christmas' all alone like the world's most off-key one-man choir."
"I hate that song," muttered Fitz. "Snow isn't even white; it's translucent – "
"– I know, Fitz – "
"– it only looks white on account of the dispersion of the crystalline structure refracting the light photons equally across the spectrum like a prism. Like a polar bear's fur isn't really white either, it's trans-"
"As true as that may be, Fitz," interrupted Simmons quickly, before he really got a good rhythm going, "'Translucent Christmas' just doesn't have the same ring to it."
"I don't think it's too much to ask for a little accuracy, is all…"
"Fitz. I know. You're avoiding the bigger issue here." Simmons held back a smile even as she scolded him. She'd been around him long enough that even some of his more annoying quirks – like his compulsive need to explain and correct any inaccuracy – were charming to her.
Fitz pulled a jumble of metal and wires out of his pocket, fiddling with them as they walked on. They were almost to their dorm, where the raucous celebrating of their fellow classmates would render this conversation inaudible. Simmons could hardly begrudge them the chance to celebrate, but she did wish they could be a bit more discreet with it – she could already see two boys hauling a keg wrapped in coats through the front door.
"I guess that would be fine, then. If it really wouldn't be a bother. I'd love to get your feedback on this." Fitz held up the handful of parts for her to inspect. "It's going to be a short-range tranquilizer gun, causes temporary paralysis without any cell damage. You-know-what mentioned something about it to me; I think I'm going to call it the Night-Night gun."
Simmons beamed and threw her arms around him. "That's excellent! And that name is terrible! I'll go let my mum know – you go order your plane ticket and pack. I'll meet you in the lab in about an hour to tidy up our equipment there. Oh, this is so exciting!"
She jogged up the stairs to her dorm room, whistling the tune of "White Christmas" as she went.
"Mum said she and Dad were driving down to get Nan, so she sent someone else to pick us up. She has some weird vendetta against cabs that's really not worth exploring further."
Fitz glanced at Simmons, a small, fond smile curving his lips. She'd been like this all day, bubbly and excited with the prospect of going home. He understood the feeling, of course, but he was less adept at expressing it. Simmons, on the other hand, had practically danced off the plane, grabbing his hand so she could swing their joined arms in a wide semi-circle as they walked to baggage claim. She was humming under her breath, and her smile seemed permanently etched into her cheeks.
She looked beautiful, in a purely platonic way.
Because no matter how in love with Simmons he was (which, yes, was a lot), they would never be more than friends. They'd shared one drunken kiss at their first (and only) college party sophomore year, and Simmons didn't remember it at all. He followed her lead in ignoring the infraction, content to love her from afar, as long as he got to keep his best friend.
"Who do you reckon is coming to pick us up?" he asked casually, scanning the conveyor belt for his suitcase and not noticing the way her face paled.
"Bloody hell," she groaned. "Of course Mum sent him."
"Who?" asked Fitz absently. He'd gotten good at reading tones over the years (or at least Simmons' tones) but he was too concerned about his luggage to notice; after all, the Night-Night prototype was in his bag, wrapped in about three layers of bubble wrap.
"My ex boyfriend," grumbled Simmons. "Mum is a notorious match-making addict and she never knows when to give up."
"Are you still on amiable terms?" Fitz asked. Where is it, where is it…if his suitcase had gotten lost…
"We were barely on amiable terms when we dated! Quick, we can call a cab and hide until he – oh, he's spotted us!"
Fitz barely had time to look up before he was jostled none too gently from behind by a huge, fast moving body. He went sprawling to the ground as the goliath figure tackled Simmons.
"There's my Jems! Sure am glad to see you!"
"For heaven's sake, Adam, put me down!"
Fitz peeled himself off the floor, assessing the situation with his usual clinical objectivity. "Adam" was a man of about six feet in height, with a disturbingly vibrant tan and wave of dark blonde hair. He was muscular, as exhibited by the fact that he was still easily holding Simmons' weight in the air, and he was dressed casually in jeans and a beat-up motorcycle jacket. All in all, a decent male specimen, if one was into that sort of thing.
And apparently Simmons was – she had, after all, dated him. Fitz could feel his metaphorical hackles rising as he got to his feet, Adam finally lowering Simmons to hers.
"Sure has been awhile, eh, Jems?" Adam gave a throaty chuckle, flashing a set of perfect teeth that instantly made Fitz hate him (more).
"There's a reason for that," grumbled Simmons, all traces of her earlier good mood gone. She smoothed her ridiculously puffy reindeer sweater and primly tucked back her hair before turning to Fitz. "Leo, this is Adam Ackley, a friend of the family. Adam, this is Leo Fitz, my friend and colleague at Cornell."
Adam looked less than thrilled at the lukewarm introduction, and Fitz knew his face probably echoed his new sworn enemy's expression. After all, "friend and colleague" had a distinctly impersonal connotation.
"You mum said you were coming alone, Jems."
Simmons threw her hands up in frustration, like she did when her chemical equations didn't balance nicely. "Of course she said that. And of course she sent you to pick me up. Honestly, Adam, even you had to see how transparent this whole plan was!"
"Maybe I did, Jems," said Adam in a low, gravelly tone that less intelligent women probably found sexy. Not Simmons, though. She was far more evolved than that. At least, Fitz hoped so. "Maybe I just missed you."
Simmons looked slightly taken aback at that, and Fitz was terrified she might say something sweet and sentimental in typical Simmons-fashion, when suddenly he caught sight of a familiar chartreuse bag trundling down the conveyor belt. Saved by the conveniently-timed luggage!
"Simmons! There's our stuff!" Fitz shoved through the crowd of people before any harm could befall his infant invention, reaching to grab the pale red suitcase with the off-white polka dots he recognized as Simmons'. Before he could grasp the handle, a large, tan hand tugged it off the belt.
"Reckon I'd recognize this trunk anywhere. Are you ever going to buy a new bag, Jems?"
Simmons yanked the bag away, looking flustered. "It's a perfectly suitable bag, thank you very much. Serves its purpose perfectly, so why would I need anything more posh?"
Adam gave his smarmy little grin again (and Fitz wished he was the type of man who could threaten to wipe the smirk off his face) before a look of realization clouded his plastic Ken doll features. "Oh, bloody hell, Jems. I thought you were coming alone – I brought Charlie up here."
"Who's Charlie?" asked Fitz quickly, hoping against hope it was Mr. Perfect-Teeth McStupidFace's androgynously named girlfriend.
Simmons' face was a dark as her mood. "It's his bloody car. He named it like an idiot." Fitz decided it was not the time to point out that he and Simmons named almost all of their inventions.
"Well, one of my cars, at least. But point is, it's a two-seater. Sorry, mate, looks like you're hitchhiking."
Fitz threw a panicked glance at Simmons, who sighed and patted his arm. "He's kidding. Adam, that's not funny. Fitz is terrified of hitchhiking." Which was true, and had been ever since he'd seen A Ride from Death as a kid, but jeeze, wasn't anything sacred? She didn't need to tell this baheid everything.
"It's fine," continued Simmons, "and we appreciate that you came to pick us up, but we'll just take a cab. There's no reason for you to take either of us to my house when you live so far away."
Adam gave her a purely surprised look, making his face look even more vacant than usual. "But, Jems, didn't your mum tell you? I'm staying at your place for the holidays."
In perfect unison, Fitz and Simmons groaned, "Oh, bloody hell."
A/N: I am 100% American and therefore do not know any Scottish or English slang. All these words came from Internet searches. If I overused/misused/generally abused your language and you're offended, I apologize, and please let me know so I can correct it!