So, even though I haven't started my annual rewatch of the show because I don't feel strong enough for season 5 yet, a lot season 2 Fitz pictures have been popping up in my social media timelines these days. Which, of course, means lots and lots of fluffy cardigans. So I thought I'd write something fluffy about cardigans! Also, obviously, the title comes from having that song stuck in my head after writing the word cardigan so many times it started losing its meaning!
The first time, Fitz thought it was an honest mistake. They were still in their first year at the Academy and had only known each other for two months. They'd been working together in his room all evening and had lost track of time. Well. Working AND talking about Doctor Who just a little bit. But still mostly working. Anyway, by the time Jemma decided it was time to go to bed and even though it was still only the beginning of autumn then, the night was rather chilly and she didn't think to bring something to wear over her light blouse. Which in itself should have told Fitz it wasn't such an honest mistake after all since, if there was one thing Jemma Simmons was most proud of, it wasn't her encyclopedic knowledge of Doctor Who or even her impressive brain but how she excelled at preparation. But their friendship was still young then and he didn't know her as well so when she told him she had a ten minutes walk back to her dorm, it seemed like the nice and gentlemanly thing to do to lend her one of his cardigans.
When he met her for class the next morning, she was wearing it on top of a light sundress. He didn't know if he was more annoyed that she decided to wear it as her own or flattered that she found his cardigan nice and comfy enough to wear it instead of her own clothes, but what he did know was that he was way too shy and awkward to ask a girl to take off even the outer layer of her clothes. So that was how his first cardigan was sacrificed in the name of his friendship with Jemma Simmons.
-0-0-0-
The next time, she'd just learned about her grandma's passing and came to his room for a hug and a friendly shoulder to cry on. He did his best to comfort her all evening, telling her that he was sure her grandmother knew she loved her and was never mad at her for not calling as often since she started at the Academy and trying his best to lift her spirits. In the end, Jemma fell asleep on the tiny armchair he'd managed to fit into his dorm room, her head pillowed on the armrest. He'd considered waking her up, afraid that she would hurt her neck if she slept like that all night but she looked so deeply asleep that he decided not to. And so, for lack of a blanket, he just put his cardigan over her so she wouldn't be cold and went to sleep in his bed. The next morning, the cardigan had somehow moved around her shoulders and she looked so tiny and exhausted with her skin paler than ever and her red rimmed eyes, that he didn't feel like taking away what little comfort the cardigan seemed to bring her.
-0-0-0-
After that, the excuses seemed to get more ridiculous every time and, in retrospect, Fitz felt a little stupid for not seeing them for what they were. Once, she even managed to practically take one of his cardigans directly from his back. She kept insisting that it was getting too tight across the shoulders where he'd supposedly gained a little muscle. Deep down, Fitz knew it was basic flattery but he still fell for it in the end. He gave her the bloody cardigan and proudly went to the store to buy another one one size up. Of course this one ended up too big. Fitz went to the gym for almost a month to try and fit into this new cardigan before he gave up and it ended up in Jemma's closet as well. She seemed to believe that the oversized piece of clothing looked really cute over a delicate little dress. And he had no choice but to admit that it was true. To be fair, she looked cute in pretty much anything but he wouldn't tell her that or she'd be unstoppable.
But Fitz only realized the depth of the problem one morning when he opened his closet to grab something to wear over his shirt, and was faced with only two choices: his blue Doctor Who sweater and that one cardigan he only wore at home since it was irrevocably ruined by the sauce stain that just wouldn't go away. Since neither of those were acceptable options to go to work, he decided to take a look into his dirty laundry basket and see if one of them was maybe not that dirty and wearable for just one more day. But the main problem wasn't really that the two cardigans he found there were definitely not wearable even for one more hour without being washed, it was that there were only two. Which meant that despite it being the piece of clothing he bought the most (except for underwear and basic undershirts of course), it seemed that he only had three cardigans left and that was it.
So wondering if maybe he could still wear one of the supposedly few Jemma claimed as hers, he went into her room. He hesitated for a moment because even though they were roommates and he'd already been in her room, maybe there were things in her closet he wasn't supposed to see. But well, the idea of going to the lab wearing something that smelled like a wet dog appealed to him just as much as being mistaken for a teenager again if he wore the Doctor Who sweater. So he slowly pulled the door to the closet, ridiculously holding his breath like he was expecting to find a skeleton or zombies hiding in there. What he found though was (almost) equally shocking.
On the middle shelf, conveniently stored at eye level and not even hidden behind boxes of scandalous lingerie or at least her own cardigans and sweaters, laid what he estimated to be 90 percents of all the cardigans he bought in the past five years. What could she possibly do with all those? Who needed so many cardigans? No wonder that he felt like he kept buying cardigans but still needed new ones all the time as he never had more than one or two that were clean enough to wear. Did she sleep in it? Maybe she just pretended to go to bed in her pretty flowery sheets and the moment Fitz was asleep, she crawled into the pile of his cardigans like a cat in a basket of fresh laundry.
Argh no! Bad idea. The mental image was just way too cute and that would just give her another argument to snatch all his remaining cardigans, leaving him to freeze to death in their exaggeratedly air conditioned lab.
Obviously, an intervention was in order.
-0-0-0-
"Honey I'm home!" Jemma cried out as she closed the door behind her and stepped into the living room. She'd been out of town for the past three days for a conference in San Fransisco she couldn't convince their superiors that Fitz was needed for as well. So, as always when they were separated for more than a day, she looked extra happy to see him and even though he could hear the mischievousness in her tone and see the mirth in her eyes that meant she was just having a bit of fun by acting like they were an old married couple, the words still warmed his heart somehow and he couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips.
He never minded being on his own before, he never really got bored and had always been able to take care of himself. But since they graduated from the Academy and started sharing an apartment, he'd gotten used to spending his evenings with Jemma as well as his days. Sometimes it was no different than having a cat, the both of them crossing paths in the apartment as they went about their own activities but never without exchanging a smile or a encouraging touch if one of them was swamped with work. But sometimes they'd also watch TV together or cook or engage in one of those lengthy conversations that lasted well into the night. And when she was away, he missed all of it, the small gestures as well as the hours spent even closer than they did at work, and he loved that she seemed to feel the same. It made him feel more important and cared for than he ever did.
No! he chastised himself. They had a serious issue to deal with and he wasn't going to let her get away with it just because he wanted to tell her about the progress he made about the night night gun, and her enthusiasm to see him was adorable and contagious. His resolve was strengthened when he noticed that she was shamelessly wearing another one of his cardigans over her patterned blouse, they grey one he'd bought because it reminded him of the Hogwarts uniform. He squared his shoulders and turned around to look at her severely from where he was seating on the couch.
"Is there something wrong dear?" She joked again, probably thinking his attempt at looking serious was part of just another one of his weird jokes. He really had to do something to be taken more seriously. Maybe he should grow a beard or something.
"Well, dear …" He started, sarcastically emphasizing that last word. "I fear we're facing a problem. And by we I mean you. YOU have a big problem." He said and she finally seemed to catch up on the relative seriousness of his attitude. She came to sit next to him on the couch, a little frown creasing her forehead as she turned around to look at him.
"What is it Fitz?"
"You, Jemma Simmons, are a cardigan thief" He declared and she rolled her eyes all the way to the back of her head as she flopped down further into the couch.
"Ugh Fitz!"
"You think I'm kidding? I'm dead serious Jemma! This morning I only had three options left, two were dirty, and really old anyway, and the third one is the one you don't let me wear outside!"
"Oh I'm sure there are at least ten others hidden all over the flat, under your bed or maybe even behind those cushions …" She said as she moved to stand up and most likely start rummaging through the apartment. Soon this would turn into another conversation about how he didn't take good enough care of his stuff. He took perfectly good care about everything that was also hers and always did his chores on time. His stuff was his own business thank you very much! And he was certainly not going to let her change the subject like that. she was going to answer for her crimes tonight!
"No no no!" He cried out, grabbing her hand to force her to sit back down and she glared at him indignantly. "There's no hidden cardigan or lost cardigan, I know where they all are. Exhibit A: the one you're wearing right now!" He declared triumphantly. She looked guilty for a whole two seconds before another partly annoyed and partly fond expression took hold of her face.
"Oh no but you gave me that one, remember? 'Cause you grew out of it a few years ago?"
"Nope, we both know that was just flattery, I didn't grow out of anything since my latest growth sprout when I was seventeen!"
"Awwww"
She was gazing at him with a soft expression in her eyes and that really wasn't what he was expecting there.
"What?"
"Nothing, just … we were so young back then, I can't believe you actually grew since we met, that's kind of adorable …"
"Well I don't know about that but … hey hey hey no!" He cut himself off. She really was a minx. "None of that, you're changing the subject again. We were talking about the cardigan you stole!"
"Fitz!" She sighed. "The cardigan IS too small for you, here …" She said, quickly taking it off her shoulders and putting it in his hands. "Try it on you'll see …"
Well of course he was going to try it on, he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to prove Jemma Simmons wrong. So he quickly divested himself of the one he was wearing and slipped one arm into the first sleeve. Which fitted just fine … until he slipped the other sleeve on …
Jemma was looking at him with an extremely annoying shit eating grin and he rolled his eyes at her.
"Fine. It is too small NOW but it doesn't prove anything. I've been exercising a lot these past few months for that field training you want us to take, I guess it's starting to show."
"It certainly is. I noticed how your shoulders and upper body have been filling up quite nicely. Suits you really ... "She said, softly patting his chest with an appreciative smile.
"Stop that!" He cried out, swatting her hand away and trying his best to ignore the cute little pout she was directing at him and that was certainly not going to distract him. "So you can definitely keep this one but …"
"Yes, that one you were wearing fits you much better and …"
"Ah ah!" He cried out triumphantly and she frowned at him in confusion. "That will be exhibit B. Guess where I found it!"
"I don't know …"
Oh she was starting to blush now, she knew exactly where he found it.
"Oh really? Then please let me show you." He said as he stood up. Not leaving her time to do or say something, maybe confess before she was confronted with the ultimate evidence, he took her hand, forcing her to stand up and follow him to her room.
"Fiiitz …" She protested weakly when he let go of her hand and went directly to her closet. She was blushing furiously now and Fitz knew exactly what it meant. She was trapped. And for someone like her who loved rules more than anything, being practically caught in the act of stealing was probably one of the worst things that ever happened to her.
"So?" He asked as she tried to appear uninterested as she looked at the shelf full of cardigans.
"Fine I borrowed a few of your cardigans and forgot to put them back into your closet. Did you really need to make such a big deal out of it?" She said, rolling her eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed, yawning.
She looked so visibly tired that he almost let it go. But he was so clearly right that he just couldn't let her win.
"Borrowed a few? Simmons!" He cried out, coming to sit just next to her so she wouldn't be able to avoid his gaze. "That's like 50 percents of all the cardigans I ever bought, some of them I haven't seen in years!"
"Ugh fine!" She sighed dramatically. "I just … I like your cardigans better, that's all"
"But why?"
"I don't know they're just … nicer … I guess …"
She was blushing again.
"Well just shop in the men's section then!"
"It's not the same!"
"Why?"
This whole thing just wasn't making any sense at all. Jemma was the most logical no nonsense person he knew. Why couldn't she clearly explain her compulsion to steal his clothes?
"I think I would have noticed earlier if you were a kleptomaniac, so I don't think that's it, and I don't know you to be cheap but if it's about money, I could always offer you one for your birthday or something …"
"Don't be ridiculous, those shoes cost ten times the price of that cardigan!" She said matter of factly, lifting her leg up and looking at her foot with as much tenderness as if she was looking at her new born child.
"WHAT?"
"They're worth it! Pretty, sturdy and super comfy, look …" She said defensively as she stood up and actually started jumping up and down for a moment. "They're so … bouncy, I feel like I'm walking on a trampoline all day!" She grinned happily. She really was an odd bird that one. An adorably bouncy crazy little bird who still wasn't going to get out of this without explaining herself.
"So what?" He asked, not completely able to keep the smile off his face. "What's so special about my cardigans?"
"They're just … yours." She finally admitted shyly. "They're just the perfect amount of slightly worn out, they feel nice and they just … they look like you and they smell like you …"
"And that's a … good thing?"
God, the more she explained the more confused he was getting.
"Of course it is, you always smell like soap and cinnamon and hum … when I wear one of your cardigans, it feels like home somehow …"
As she spoke, she'd managed to sit back down closer to him and was now absent-mindedly picking invisible lents from his sleeve.
"So you steal my cardigans because you like how I smell because ... it feels like home?"
Now he was the one blushing. He honestly didn't know how he felt about that. That certainly felt like a compliment and it was kind of sweet, he supposed. And now that he thought of it, he always liked how she smelt as well. Like when she fell asleep on the couch in her big fluffy robe after getting out of the shower and all the cushions smelt like lavender for days. And okay, he might have possibly hugged said cushion to his chest as he watched TV when she wasn't home because it soothed him.
"Yes …"
"That's a weird thing to say …"
"I know …" She said, looking at him through her lashes.
"People just don't do that, they don't feel that for their friend's ... clothes …" He finished sheepishly.
"I know ..." She repeated. And how could she sound so breathless when she said so little words?
"It's almost like ..." He started hesitantly, looking down as it was his turn to pick up even more invisible lents. "That's the kind of things they do with ... I don't know …"
"Their boyfriend?" She finished for him and when his head shot up to look at her she seemed just as surprised as he was.
"Yeah … but I … I'm not … your boyfriend …"
"I know but maybe that's just how it feels like!" She cried out, gasping as if the words had just escaped her mouth without her consent.
How did they go from cardigan thievery to this? What did this mean? Was it all a joke? Was she making it all up as a revenge for calling her out on her cardigan thievery problem? Jemma was his best friend and he loved her more than anyone else in the world but it didn't have to mean that …
"What-what do you mean Jemma?"
"I don't know, it's just neither of us have been on a date in a while and, I don't know about you, but for me it's not for lack of opportunity, I just … everyone else is boring and I never have quite as much fun as I do when I'm with you. I mean …" She let out a shaky breath. "We live together, we work together, we even go together on holidays most of the time and we apparently have no problem going through each other's stuff without asking first, do you know two persons who do that that are not a couple, Fitz?"
"I-I don't know I never I … So what? We have to become a couple because our friendship's a little bit … unconventional?" He cried out, not knowing if his voice going all squeaky was out of panic, annoyance that she just couldn't seem to tell him something clear or … something else.
"I didn't say we had to …"
"But do you want to?" He asked, his voice now no more than a whisper, probably because of how strange and scary and surreal it was to go into that territory.
"I don't know Fitz … I never thought about it before but now, it doesn't feel quite so … I don't know…"
"Ugh Jemma!" He cut her off. "Is there anything you do know? I'll take anything now. Really."
"I know I want to take that cardigan off you" She declared matter of factly, like it was the most casual thing she could have said.
"WHAT?" He cried out as he started coughing. Apparently it really was possible to choke on your own saliva.
"No no no not like that!" She cried out, coming to his rescue and patting his back firmly to try and help the coughing subside. "No it's just really too small for you …" She added once it finally stopped. He could still feel how red his face was. Probably almost as much from the coughing than from what he thought was her wish to tear his clothes off. "Although now that I think of it, I have to admit I already had a few confusing dreams about …"
"OH MY GOD! WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?" He cut her off as he shot up from the bed. He needed to take a little distance from her right now because of course he's had dreams about her too, nice confusing ones that made him feel quite guilty when she crossed her gaze first thing in the morning. But he was a single young male living with a beautiful woman with little to no notion of personal space, of course it was bound to happen. That didn't mean anything should happen between them.
"I don't know Fitz? What do you think is happening?" She cried out, following him and forcing him to turn around to look at her. "You're the one who started this conversation, maybe you could weigh in …"
"Hey it's not like THIS" He replied, moving his finger back and forth between them. "is what I wanted to talk about in the first place. I wasn't more prepared than you are!"
"Well looks like it is now. So what are you going to do about it?"
She was impossibly close now, and breathless, her eyes fixated on his with a fierceness he hardly ever saw in them in all the years they'd known each other. So he followed the only suggestion his brain seemed able to provide at the moment: he slid his hand into her silky hair and kissed her. It took her only a second and a surprised squeal and then she was kissing him back, her lips warm and soft and eager as they glided against his as her arms came around his back to pull him even closer. It was the kind of kiss he thought never happened in real life: perfect and passionate and incredibly intoxicating despite being so unexpected and yet feeling like it was everything he ever wanted in his life and then some.
She pushed him back until his knees hit the edge of the bed and only when she was seating in his lap, her knees straddling his thighs, did she break the kiss, her lips still ghosting his mouth when she whispered: "And I know I want more of that too."
Before he had the time to say anything, she was the one to capture his lips this time. She licked the seam of his lips, prying his mouth open with the tip of her tongue and setting his whole body on fire as she deepened the kiss. How did it take him so much time to realize that it was the only thing missing to make them the happiest couple in the world and, really, the only thing missing in his life. Period. His hands descended to her lower back and he pulled her even closer, enjoying the warmth of her body and the loud thumping of her heart through their thin shirts. She let out a delighted giggle at his actions, her own hands sliding into his hair, and he fell even more in love with her. Which was strange really because he didn't even realize he was in love with her until a few minutes ago.
"So was that your plan all along?" He asked with a dopey smile he didn't think he'd ever be able to get rid of, when they pulled apart once more.
"Oh yeah of course. During that first talk we had about dialectric polarization, all I could think of was taking that cardigan off your back!"
"No!" He protested. "I don't mean about the cardigans, I mean about … this … us …" He said, feeling strangely shy saying that small word about them now that it seemed to have a totally new meaning.
"Well yeah … that's what I meant. Always wanted to see what was under it …" She grinned. Her hands slipped from his hair to the tiny cardigan he was still wearing and started pushing it off his shoulders.
"I know you're lying but considering …" He trailed off as he looked down at where their bodies were impossibly entwined. "… I don't even care!" He finished, taking his arms away from her only long enough to let her take the cardigan all the way off.
She giggled once more as she pressed another kiss to the tip of his nose.
"So why did you even need that many cardigans for? What did do you with them?"
"Oh you know … just spread them on my bed so I could sleep on a Fitz scented sea of fluffiness … nothing weird …" She let out faux casually and he burst out laughing. Could she be anymore perfect?
"Again. I know you're lying but it's just too adorable so that's how I'm going to picture you and my cardigans for the rest of my life."
"Oh really? Cause I've been wearing them with nothing but my knickers on when you weren't at home and considering …" She said, lightly pressing her lips to his. "I thought you might like THIS image even better …"
"Jemma! You're such a-a …" He started but she cut her off with another slow and heated kiss and he couldn't believe how quickly it was becoming the most natural thing in the world.
"A what?" She asked with a wide grin when they broke apart. She'd always liked teasing him but he had the feeling he wasn't going to terribly mind that whole new kind of teasing.
"Don't know … I'll get back to you on that." He said, moving to kiss her lips once more but she stopped him and had the audacity to chuckle at his pathetic little pout.
"But honestly, now that I think of it …" She said, her grin turning to something much softer as she looked down at him, her fingers lightly grazing his scalp. "I think I like them best when they're on you and you're holding me in your arms."
Awww. Now THAT was adorable.
"Well …" He said, wounding his arms around her waist and shoulders and pulling her even closer. "If that's what it takes to get my cardigans back."