Jemma jerked upright in bed, the fire alarm screaming at her. Sleepily scrambling about in the darkness, she only stopped to pull on a pair of pants before bumbling to her door. Momentarily pausing to check for warmth on the smooth wood, she hurried to the ground floor and out the front doors. It was only when her foot crunched into the fresh layer of powder did she realize that, firstly, it had snowed that night, and secondly, she wasn't wearing any shoes. A cold chill swept over her and she glanced back, only to find a stream of other people evacuating. No turning back now. Resigned to her chilly fate, she delicately placed one foot in front of the other, making her way to a large pine that towered in front of the residence. The young biochemist carefully settled herself on a protruding root, wobbling a touch as she pulled her feet up onto the thin perch. She watched in horror as a sudden shattering noise ripped through the thick winter air and flames began to lick out of the window. A small crowd was gathering alongside the tenants, a muttering coming from the distressed viewers.
"D'ya live there?" came a voice from behind her, the sudden appearance startling her into the icy layer of white that coated the earth. "Sorry, sorry," the Scottish brogue apologized profusely, the sound of crunching footsteps approaching as she brushed off the freezing flakes. "Oh, I am so sorry. Didn' mean t' startle y' like tha', I'm so-"
"It's f-f-fine," she replied, trying to sound as if she wasn't freezing to death and failing miserably. Glancing up, she found the speaker to be a lanky man with curly hair, extending his arm to her.
"Here, let me…" Grateful, she took it and stood again, wincing when her feet dug into the painfully cold layer of slush. "Oh, god, you're not wearin' shoes. Here- um- I can- er-" he stuttered.
"I'm g-g-good," she stuttered again, cursing at herself for not even stopping to find another shirt before blowing out into the 3 AM chill.
"Here," he said, pulling off his outermost sweater and handing it to her. "An' don' try and say y' don' need it, 'cause you're shakin' like a leaf." Jemma swallowed her protests with a sigh and took the still-warm fabric from him. Slipping it over her head, she used the too-large sleeves to cover her hands and hugged her arms to herself, enjoying the new warmth.
"Thank you," she said, taking a step back onto the root so that her feet were no longer in direct contact with the snow. "I'm Jemma, Jemma Simmons. A-and you are-?"
"Leo, but 'm called Fitz." At that moment, the fire trucks raced in with sirens screaming, cutting off the conversation as teams rushed into the building. As the wails slowly halted, he continued, "Um, so y' live in th' structure, there?"
"Yes," she replied, staring at the tongues of flame. "And you?" she asked turning away from the blaze to look at him. "I haven't seen you in the building before."
"I live the next buildin' over. We got evacuated 'case th' fire spread." She nodded, and they watched in silence for a few moments.
"So how long have you lived here?" Casual conversation had never been Jemma's forte, but she felt the need to fill the silence as she watched the inferno.
"Jus' moved in recently, actually. Finished m' PhD an' wanted t' go somewhere new." Jemma's brow furrowed.
"But you can't be more than twenty-five," she said, puzzled. Sheepish, he reached back to scratch the back of his neck.
"Twenty-two, actually. I, er, graduated early." Now it was his turn to be puzzled as a grin broke over her face, cold momentarily forgotten.
"Oh, so did I! I have a PhD in biochemistry!" He smiled back, understanding how happy she was to have found someone like her. Years of classes with the older group had taught him that being the "genius prodigy" was often more akin to "brainy freak".
"Engineering, here. I thought I'd come t' work in architecture, maybe weapons design for STARK Industries." She nodded and he could see the eagerness reflected in her eyes. It warmed his heart a bit, and he was about to tell her how nice it was to find someone like him, but a firefighter with a megaphone interrupted him.
"This building will be closed for the next few hours while we go over it and make sure there is no threat to the foundation and stability of the building. Residents of the nearby buildings can return to their homes, as the fire is now out." There was a pause of silence, then the muttering of the crowd resumed.
"Well, I guess I'd better- um, well-" Fitz stuttered. Jemma smiled, understanding, and began to pull of the sweater. "Oh, no, you can keep that. I mean, I live the next building over. You need it right now."
"Are you sure?" He nodded and she thanked him with a smile warmer than the sweater. Then, before he lost his nerve, he blurted out what he had been stuttering about before.
"Doyouwanttocomeover?" Confusion laced her brow. "I mean, er, do you want to, well, come over? There's tea and- er- I have a couch- and- it's okay you don't have to and…" His voice weakly trailed off and under the faint light of the street lamps, she could see him turning a furious shade of red. He reached up to rub at the back of his head again and she smiled faintly.
"Sure," she said softly, causing him to look up, wide-eyed.
"Really?" he said, then brought his hand to his mouth as the words of disbelief slipped out. "I mean-"
"Really, Fitz," she laughed. "Just let me tell my neighbor where I'm going. Just in case, you know, you turn out to be a serial killer." Her joking tone made him smile a bit as he watched her walk to an elderly woman and speak softly to her, occasionally gesturing to him. As the grandmother looked over, he gave a sheepish wave and the critical look on her face seemed to relax. She patted Jemma's arm and said something he couldn't hear, then watched as the biochemist returned to where he was.
"Okay, ready," she said with a smile. Fitz couldn't remember the last time he smiled so much at one person.
"Okay, let's get y' inside before y' get frostbite," he said, reaching out and tugging on her hand in a moment of bravery. Her fingers wrapped around his and he pulled her to his building, grins plastered over their faces.