Simmons stood beside Fitz, still irritated with her partner, the pair of them rigid and tense as they listened to their leader's instructions.
"We'll be going on foot from here," Coulson told them before turning his attention to the military scientist beside him.
"Hello," she greeted, far more cheerful and relaxed than Simmons had expected after seeing her curt, serious posture and formal green camoflauge uniform. "My name is Dr. Leaky and this is Dr. Niehaus," she introduced. "At around twelve thrity this morning, flight 463 crashed about half a mile from here," she sobered as she turned her head towards the column of dark smoke still puffing like a grey cloud from just beyond the trees. "We sent in a small team at two fifty five am, we lost contact with them at two fifty seven am and haven't heard from them since. Additionally, we have been unable to establish contact with anyone in the town of Westfield."
"And we're just going to... go on in," Skye questioned skeptically, gesturing with her hands as she spoke, pushing one forward and raising her eyebrows. "Seriously? What if we're lost too and they have to send someone to rescue us and then someone has to rescue them and then-" Ward shot her a look and she stopped abruptly. "I'm just saying," she defended, "maybe we could... I dunno, send in a drone or something first?"
"We've been monitoring the area for around four hours now," Dr. Niehaus informed her, he sounded younger than his somber expression made him appear. He pointed to a line drawn with bright yellow spray paint on the paved black road ahead of them. Beyond it lay scattered pieces of what could have been one large or several small mechanical devices. After quickly examining the pattern of the debris, three distinct clusters of metal and wires, Simmons guessed the latter. "We've been sending in drones to investigate the area, but they lose power and crash once they pass that line."
"Which is why we'll be going in on foot," Coulson explained. "Our vehicles wont work beyond that point, the batteries cut out." His gaze shifted to Simmons and Fitz. "Neither will the D.W.A.R.F.s I'm afraid," he told them.
Fitz grumbled and Simmons felt a tiny flicker of irritation at not being able to use their equipment.
'That's alright,' she thought, attempting to remain positive. 'We'll just have to get creative, think outside our box, so to speak. It could be fun.' She brightened at that and flashed Fitz an optimistic smile before remembering they were still upset with each other. He wasn't looking at her.
"So pack lightly, it's a two hour walk into town," Coulson instructed. "And remember, nothing that runs on electricity is going to work, so leave it here."
Fitz sighed and dragged his feet back to their vehicle where he grudgingly emptied about half his knapsack back into their storage bin.
"It wouldn't have killed anyone to brief us before we packed," he muttered, still clearly disgruntled from their earlier discussion.
Simmons carefully placed the electronic devices she'd stored in her backpack beside his. "Fitz-" she began tentatively but he huffed and stalked away before she could finish whatever it was she was going to say.
"I didn't mean it that way," she repeated to the empty space beside her, frowning as she watched him fall into step beside Ward.
The other agent didn't seem to mind his company, it actually looked as if they'd struck up a conversation, though Fitz was still doing most of the talking and Simmons would have been happy that her friend was bonding with his teammates except that he was walking with Ward specifically so he didn't have to walk with her.
"Can I put my phone in next to your do-dads," Skye inquired, hovering the mentioned phone over the open box.
"You mean our field equipment," Simmons corrected automatically, distracted. "Sure, fine."
"You OK?" Skye wondered, dropping it in and allowing Simmons to close the box. "You and Fitz were going at it like cats and dogs on the way here."
Simmons snapped the lid of the box back on forcefully, causing Skye to jump back, surprised. "That's ridiculous," she grumbled. "Cat's and dog's aren't inherently enemies, a lot of the time they get along quite well. I'm fine, if Fitz wants to believe things about me that aren't true, then there isn't anything I can do about it, so why should I be bothered?" She slammed the door of the vehicle and stomped after the rest of their team.
"You don't seem OK," Skye protested, jogging to catch up with her.
"How could he possibly think that?" She raged, ignoring Skye's comment. "That I would give in to childish nonsense, make light of the situation, when my best friend was..." she grunted and threw her hands in the air, searching for the word, "compromised. Even if he were a complete stranger I'd be worried, but he's Fitz, I..." she hissed in frustration and shook her head before going on. "It's as if he thinks I don't care about him at all."
"C'mon Simmons, that's crazy. Fitz knows you love him," Skye assured her, giving her a nudge.
Simmons' cheeks grew hot and she knew she'd turned a few shades pinker.
'She doesn't mean it that way,' she reminded herself, but the blush remained.
"That's why you're so upset right?" She guessed. "Because your friend was compromised, he wasn't entirely himself anymore, and that scared you."
Simmons realized she was right. Most of her anger had come out of fear, fear at what Lorelei could have made him do, of what she could have done to him. She could have killed him where he stood and he would have remained unresistant, grinning while it happened, his mind no longer his own, not allowing him to defend himself. It was despicable and terrifying. She couldn't stand the idea of him suffering, of parts of him being taken away.
"It probably scared him too," Skye pointed out when she didn't reply. "Maybe you should let him have this one," she suggested. "He did get kidnapped after all... sort of... and he's probably a little shaken up about it."
"If he'll talk to me," Simmons lamented, gaze drifting to the back of him a few feet ahead. He seemed in a better mood at least, laughing at something before good naturedly hitting Ward on the arm. Ward turned towards him and Simmons could see he was amused, maybe even chuckling.
"Fitz wouldn't stop talking to you if someone offered him Iron Man's suit for it," Skye dismissed. "The guy's completely in love with you, he'd stick with you through Armageddon."
Simmons' attention snapped back to Skye. "What?"
"Armageddon? It's a movie," she explained. "You know, a team of oil drillers has to go to space camp so they can drill a nuclear bomb into a giant-"
"No, not that, the other thing," Simmons cut in quickly. She couldn't have possibly heard her correctly. There must have been some sort of misunderstanding.
"What other thing?" Skye wondered. "Oh, that? Are you really surprised?"
Simmons stared blankly at her.
"Seriously?" Skye gasped, disbelief almost oozing out of her. "I thought you knew..."
"There's nothing to... what, no," Simmons shook her head. "Fitz isn't... I mean we're not..."
Skye pressed her lips together, looking as if it had just dawned on her that she'd made a mistake and regret was seeping in. "Never mind, forget I said anything," she mumbled, picking up her pace so that Simmons needed to speed up her steps to stay beside her, bouncing anxiously as she did.
"What are you talking about?" She pressed, hovering around her. "Did he say something?"
"No," Skye answered, sounding as if she didn't really want to talk about it anymore. Almost guilty.
Simmons relaxed. That settled it, this was all in her friend's overactive imagination. It wasn't poor Skye's fault, not many people understood the relationship she'd formed with Fitz, but Simmons did. It was simple, easy, the two fit together like pieces of a puzzle and yes, they were close, but it wasn't like that.
Right?
Absolutely not, Simmons was almost certain (leaving reasonable room for error) that Fitz was not in love with her.
"It isn't like that," she said, but the words came out too forceful and it sounded like a lie. "It isn't," she insisted.
Skye was silent and Simmons couldn't help thinking that there was a chance, however small, that she'd been wrong all these years, that she'd misread what she and Fitz were to each other. After all, every idea had room for reasonable error.
/-/-/
Coulson and May left the rest of the team at a small diner while they went to find the local police station, trailed by Dr. Niehaus and Dr. Leaky. Fitz was glad for the pause, his feet were throbbing and his stomach gurgled and grumbled, complaining about his skipped breakfast.
He was feeling better about his fight with Simmons though, after a long conversation with Ward. The specialist had been sympathetic to Fitz's side of the argument (of course he had, he'd been affected too) but he'd carefully suggest that Fitz 'cut Simmons a little slack'.
"After all," he'd said. "She's probably upset because she was worried about you."
Fitz knew he was right. Simmons wouldn't belittle his feelings, or make fun of him when he'd been hurt, she was his friend and she cared about him and, to be honest, he was already starting to miss her company.
So when she sat down beside him at the square, wooden table and picked up a menu, he didn't protest or move away. Instead he smiled at her and she smiled back, seeming relieved.
"How about I order you some chocolate crepes?" She offered brightly, finding them on the inside of the laminated paper, folded down the middle, that served as their menu. The picture made his mouth water, thin dough with dark chocolate squishing out the front and a swirl of light, fluffy whip cream that looked as if it would taste like a sweet, creamy cloud.
They were about the most expensive thing on the menu though.
"I can just have eggs if it's too much," he assured her, pointing to the price across from the description. "I don't need crepes."
"Oh Fitz," she chuckled, grinning warmly at him. "You were kidnapped, of course you need crepes."
He raised his eyebrows and she blushed, a light pink painting her cheeks the hue of the sky at dawn. Fitz swallowed, momentarily distracted by the way the sunlight made the brown in her hair sparkle, at how the features of her face seemed so familiar, so right.
"I'm sorry," she explained softly, surprising him and pulling him out of his daydreaming.
What was the matter with him? Ogling Simmons like a teenager with a crush. He didn't have a crush on Simmons, didn't like her that way, she was just... really pretty. Of course he'd gotten a bit distracted, what with that sneaky beam of sunlight coming through the window, illuminating her like a spotlight. It didn't mean anything.
He pushed down the tingling in his stomach and nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Me too," he answered, and just like that, all was forgiven.
"Did someone say crepes?" Skye chirped, loudly skidding back a chair to sit across from them while Ward took his out silently, without even a soft thud as the legs touched back down onto the wooden floor. Simmons handed her the menu and her eyes lit as she licked her lips. "Yum, but... they're kind of steep aren't they?" She commented. She turned to Ward. "Did you want to share a plate?" She asked sweetly, her eyes round.
"And pay for half?" he guessed flatly, amused. She shrugged innocently and he smiled. "Sure."
Fitz thought that they had the right idea.
"Did you want half of my crepes?" he wondered, turning to Simmons, suddenly shy, though he wasn't entirely sure why.
He shared with Simmons all the time, but there was something about sharing a single plate of food that seemed almost... intimate.
"Yes please," she answered gratefully, oblivious to any awkwardness which might have followed such a suggestion.
"Have you seen anyone who works here?" Skye asked, looking around the empty room. "I know it's early, but... it's open right?"
"It said it was on the door," Ward commented, though his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"We're open," a man told them, hurrying out of the kitchen. "It's just me today, since all my help decided to stay home." He shook his head disapprovingly. "And the power's out so we're giving a free scoop of ice cream with every meal. Good thing we still use gas or I'd be out for the day." He smiled. "What can I get you?"
"We'll share the strawberry crepes," Skye answered, pointing between herself and Ward.
"And we'll take chocolate," Simmons added, beaming at Fitz and making him feel as if a bird were tap dancing on his stomach while fluttering it's wings in his chest. Stupid sunshine. "Do you know what's going on?" She inquired as she handed the man the menu.
"What do you mean?" He asked. "The power's out, probably from the storm last night."
"I don't think there was a storm in this area," she objected politely, frowning in confusion.
He barked out a laugh. "You must sleep like an old dog kid," he chorlted. "All that thunder and lightening and you didn't notice it? Haven't had a storm like that since 2019."
"Umm..." her eyes narrowed and the rest of the team exchanged a bewildered glance. "It's... it's 2014."
He laughed again. "You're funny, I like you. How's about I add some an extra scoop of ice cream so you wont have to fight over it with your little brother?"
"Little- what?" Fitz gasped, offended. He wasn't Simmons' brother and he certainly wasn't her younger one, he was older than she was!
The man winked at her and returned to the kitchen. What was that? Was he flirting with her? Was that why he'd been so quick to label Fitz as her 'little brother.'
"Why does he think I'm the younger one?" Fitz grumbled when he was gone.
"That was what bugged you about that conversation?" Skye asked, incredulous. She turned to the others and lowered her voice. "What year does he think it is?"
"Maybe we heard him wrong..." Simmons suggested, staring after him.
"I don't think so," Ward said.
"I don't look like your little brother," Fitz muttered, unconcerned with the date mix up. He'd probably been talking about something else, maybe 2019 was some sort of festival, or a movie or even a radio show.
"You do look younger than you are," Simmons pointed out.
He grumbled again and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair, pouting.
Skye tapped his foot under the table. "Hey, Mr. Grumpy, didn't you tell us that was a good thing? That we'd be envious of you when-"
"You were wrinkly old hags," he finished. She giggled at him and he couldn't hold back a smiled.
"There's no need for you to be worried about it," Simmons agreed. "You look wonderful and besides- crepes!" She exclaimed happily, eyes sparkling as the restaurant owner placed a plate in front of each of them.
'And besides what?' Fitz wondered, wishing she had finished. What was she going to say about him? It sounded like it was going to be something nice, but he didn't know how to ask her about it without seeming nosy.
He couldn't smell the chocolate yet, the sweet, tart tang of the strawberries from Skye and Ward's breakfast overpowered it, but the whip cream looked exactly as it had on the menu and he could already taste it melting on his tongue.
Simmons handed him a fork and he cut into the dough, letting bright red strawberry goop run onto the plate.
"Oh... umm, excuse me," Simmons called to the owner. He returned, smiling pleasantly.
"How can I help you?" He inquired, polite.
"Sorry, but we wanted chocolate," she explained apologetically.
He narrowed his eyes. "Where do you think you are the Ritz?"
Simmons tilted her head. "Excuse me?"
"This isn't some high end, fancy restaurant," he went on angrily. "If you wanted chocolate, you should have gone somewhere else."
"But... but it's on the menu..." she frowned, obviously taken aback by his sudden aggression.
"Are you trying to trick me?" He spat and Fitz bristled at the hostility in his tone. Simmons had done nothing to warrant this kind of treatment.
"N-no..." she stammered.
"Yes you are!" Without any kind of warning or apparent motivation, he pulled out a gun, it was small, easy to conceal, and pointed it at her. Her eyes widened in terror and Fitz snapped, bolting to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process so that it clattered on the floor, and placing himself between her and the weapon, needing to put a barrier between her and the danger whatever the cost to himself.
There was a blur of movement to his side just as the gun went off, so close the bang made his ears ring and the sound of Simmons screaming his name seemed far away.
/-/-/
The diner scene is based off a scene in Welcome to Westfield where Walter asks for pie and the waiter keeps forgetting he ordered it then gets mad when Walter tells him he said he could have it for free (which he did)
The Fringe reference is the line 'You were kidnapped, of course you need Crepes.' Walter tells this to Peter in the episode where he is kidnapped by a fourteen year old boy with mind control powers.
Dr. Leaky is named after Aldous Leaky from Orphan Black and Dr. Niehaus is named for Cosima Niehaus from the same show.
