This story is set an undisclosed amount of time after the events of 1x22. Fitz is doing well accept for occasional muscle control issues, particularly in his legs, that, for the time being, have him using a wheel chair most of the time. I have no idea if that is actually a condition that could develop from oxygen deprivation—this is by no means meant to be realistic. It's meant to be cute. So enjoy the cute.
"Hey, Simmons," Fitz called, wheeling around to face his lab partner, "you know how my physical therapist is gone this week, right?"
Simmons spoke from her desk, goggles on and a pair of tweezers in her hand. "Yes, I heard about that," she responded, continuing to poke at her specimen in the petri dish.
Fitz looked at her awkwardly, trying to find a way to phrase his next question. Things had been a little strange between them since their time in the med pod. They were still friendly and good-natured towards each other, but conversations didn't flow as easily (unless they were talking about work). With Fitz's confession being out in the open, his compliments of Simmons were more frequent, as he had little reason to hide them. And he barely noticed how uncomfortable these compliments made her. Not that she didn't like the compliments—she just didn't know how to react to them. At first they made her feel guilty—she wasn't sure if she fully returned Fitz's feelings and felt obligated to compliment him back, but didn't want him to take things the wrong way. But at some point, his compliments became nice, and her discomfort stemmed from a different emotion. That emotion was panic.
Panic at the fact she was blushing. Panic at the brush of his hand against hers. Panic at how thoughtfully he looked at her. Panic at the fact she felt panicked. She had an idea what that panic was stemming from, but didn't want to admit it or dwell upon it. It would make things too complicated at an already confusing time. Now was not the time for those feelings to come into the picture.
Fitz cleared his throat and said, "Well, I have sorta an embarrassing favor to ask you…"
Simmons finally looked up at him. His eyes were determinedly focused on his toes, and an embarrassed smile was creeping up his mouth.
"What is it?" ask Jemma, concerned.
"Well, we still haven't figured out a good way for me to get from my chair to my bed. Would—would you be able to help me?" He looked up at her with a grimace on his face. It was clear how much he hated asking for help for such simple tasks.
"Of course!" said Jemma, slightly relived. "I thought you were going to ask if I could help you shower!" She let that slip out before realizing the potential awkwardness, and sure enough saw Fitz's face turn bright red.
"Ah, ah, no—no," he stuttered, turning his chair around to face his desk. "I can get in the shower on my own."
"Right," continued Simmons. "Right I'm sure that's fine. The beds here at this base are particularly high," she added, trying to make him feel better. They really were peculiarly high.
"Yeah, and I haven't had the chance to rig something up. It'll be nice when I can go to sleep on my own." He added a chuckle, attempting to make himself sound less pitiful, but Simmons didn't buy it.
"I'm sure you'll have use of your legs before you rig something up—you've already made so much progress."
"Right, well," he said, packing up some of his things. "I'm going to go eat something. If I don't see you before bed, maybe come by my room around 10?"
"Perfect," she answered. "Maybe I'll bring some tea?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice," he said, smiling at her, and turning to wheel out of the lab.
Simmons took a deep breath as she rounded the corner with her tray of tea things. She didn't know why, but something about this whole ordeal made her feel nervous. There was some sort of substance, some sort of intimacy, connected to helping Fitz get into his bed. And of course the idea of placing her hands around his torso made her stomach flip over, in an oddly pleasant but completely terrifying way.
She managed to balance the tray while she knocked on the door, and soon after Fitz welcomed her inside the small, closet-sized bedroom. Everyone on the team agreed that these bedrooms were plenty spacious, even though they were much smaller than the average bedroom. Anything seemed spacious compared to the bunks on the Bus. Each of them had added their own personal touches—Fitz had added a few posters of Einstein, the Beatles, and the original Star Wars.
"Well, I do love what you've done with the place," Simmons said, as she sat the tea tray down on Fitz's desk. "Reminds me of your dorm at the Academy!"
Fitz smiled at this. "Yeah, it's nice to have a little more space to decorate. Here, I have a chair…" he said as he moved to the corner of the room, handing Simmons the chair over his head.
As she sat down, he wheeled up next to her, and asked, "So what kind of tea did you bring me?"
Simmons smiled at his boyish grin and answered, "I've got chamomile and decaf Earl Grey. Take your pick."
"Well, that's not very fancy," he said, smirking at her, "but thank you—I'll take some Earl Grey."
"Good choice," said Simmons, as she plugged in the electric kettle. "The tea selection might not be that fancy, but I did manage to find these in the kitchen!" She pulled out a bag of chocolate cookies, to which Fitz replied—
"—Yes! I love these! Here…" he wheeled around and started digging in his dresser. "Since you brought me a surprise, I'll give you one." And he turned around with a bottle of whiskey.
"Oh, Fitz! You shouldn't be drinking!" It was true, and Simmons did mean it, but she also couldn't help but laugh. All of this was reminding her of the Academy so much.
"Yeah, yeah, I haven't had that much," he said defensively. "Only a small glass every now and then. Perhaps you would like some after your tea. Or in your tea. Do you still do that?" He asked, chuckling.
"Not since the Academy!" Jemma blushed. "I don't know why that was my drink of choice…"
"I believe you said that it was the healthier option."
"Well, that's true. It is the healthier option…" They laughed and smiled at each other for a bit, and an awkward moment passed where one of them should have started talking but didn't.
Come on Jemma, say something. It's just Fitz. It's just like the old days. Sure enough they both started speaking at the same time—about some sort of experiment they were handling that day. Again, they smiled, laughed at each other, and sighed, awkwardly.
"Here," started Fitz, "I've got an idea. How about, since this is all so Academy-like, you drink some of your choice beverage, I'll binge on cookies, and we'll watch some Doctor Who?"
Simmons couldn't help but smile ear to ear. "Deal. But I'm not drinking that much! I have to be up early tomorrow."
"Oh, where have I heard that before?" teased Fitz, liberally pouring whiskey into her tea and adding a little honey, just as she used to make it.
Simmons was about to playfully smack him, but thought the physically contact might be a little too much. They pulled themselves up to Fitz's laptop on the desk and watched a few episodes with a little conversation here and there. Simmons had perhaps been drinking a little too much whiskey, and soon noticed that Fitz was also adding some to his tea.
"Fitz! I think you've had enough…" said Simmons, trying not to sound so motherly, but as she was drunk, she couldn't really help it.
"I'm fine, Jemma!" Fitz replied. "I haven't been on any pain killers in a while—there's really nothing wrong with me having a night to drink with my best friend." He looked at her purposely and thoughtfully, the way that usually made Simmons feel extremely panicky.
And her chest did fill with panic, but it also filled with warmth and affection for the man in front of her. Yet of course this made her feel even more panicked.
"It's so late! Look at the time!" Simmons pretended she just noticed the clock saying it was well past 1 in the morning. "We should go to bed now."
Fitz's face looked momentarily hurt, and Simmons' heart broke just a bit, but he smiled eventually and said, "You're right. Help me up?" as he motioned to the bed.
"Ah, yes." Don't freak out, Jemma. Don't freak out. But her heart began to race as she bent down and hugged Fitz around his middle, lifting him onto his feet. She hadn't been this close to him since they were in the medical pod. His eyes were tearing into hers, and she momentarily forgot the task at hand. That is until one of them, or both of them, drunkenly swayed and they lost their balance.
It was a very good thing Fitz had laid down a small padded rug on the floor—otherwise Jemma would have had quite the bump on the back of her head. Opening her eyes after the fall, Jemma realized Fitz was sprawled on top of her, and once again her stomach flipped.
He managed to lift up his upper half, so he could look at Jemma in the face. "Well, this is awkward," he said, smiling down at her.
Jemma rolled her eyes at him. "Only because you aren't moving off of me," she teased.
"Well, that's the thing. My legs have frozen up and I can't move. So… You're stuck." He smiled just enough to make Jemma question whether he was telling the truth or not.
Now that he was fully on top of her, she wasn't entirely sure whether she wanted him off or not. But an idea did come to her.
"Well, I'll just have to test whether that is true," she said, as she did the only thing she could think of: she started to tickle him.
Fitz immediately recoiled to the side, laughing, but clearly annoyed. "Simmons! You know I hate tickling!" So he did the only thing he could do: tickle her back.
Simmons couldn't take it much longer—her body was overwhelmed by the tickling and the warm, churning sensation in her stomach that was caused by Fitz's hands being all over her.
Eventually they came to an unspoken truce, stopping the tickling, and slowly realizing they were entirely wrapped up in each other. Once again, Fitz was giving Simmons the look that made her panic, although this time, she fully met his gaze. It was so terrifying, that all she could do was stare back at him and wait for him to do or say something.
It was then that she noticed his eye line drop down to her mouth. Oh god, it's happening, she thought. And sure enough, it happened. Fitz gently pulled her face towards his and their lips met, touching softly. Simmons' mind was racing and completely focused on Fitz at the same time. Their arms wrapped around each tightly, and the kissed deepened, sending all sorts of sensations up and down Simmons' body. When they broke apart, they stared at each other for what seemed ages, as both of them were to shocked by what had just happened.
Jemma was the first to say something. "Ah, well, um, that…" and she faltered.
Fitz simply smiled at her and said, "Yeah, me too."
This time Simmons made the move. She pressed her lips to his so hard she almost chipped a tooth. And they stayed like that for quite some time, before finally going to bed…
And there you go. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I thought we could all use a little cute to add to the chaos.