"You're late." Jemma said the instant she opened the door to Fitz.
"A Fitz is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."
Jemma stared blankly at him; she was already fed up with him and it's been mere seconds.
"You didn't get the reference? Really?" Fitz sighed as he walked in.
"I might have understood it had you gotten here on time." Jemma said as she walked up to her room, Fitz following behind.
"I'm only five minutes late, Simmons, calm down."
"A lot can happen in five minutes, Fitz!"
…
"I think it's safe to say we've done enough research; we should probably come together and start writing this report." Jemma suggested as she flicked through her notes.
"If we have to." Fitz sighed.
"Stop complaining; we have to do this so we should get it over with." Jemma said.
"I know, I know, it's not all you. The task is just so tedious and boring." Fitz complained.
"In another rare moment, I agree, but we still have to do it." Jemma said as she set up a document on her laptop. Fitz did the same.
"Though working with you only makes it worse." Fitz eventually added, darting a glance at her. She glared back, though part of her felt like she was holding back a slight smile at his comment. No, that couldn't be right.
"Now, since I'm the better typer I think I should be the scribe." Jemma interjected.
"I'm sorry? You're the better typer? I don't think so!" Fitz protested.
"Oh, Fitz, come on! Your technique is appalling. Who taught you, a monkey?"
"One can dream, Simmons!"
"…Ugh, I'm in no mood to fight with you. I'm the scribe, okay? It's been a long day of lessons and I've got my friends coming over tonight so I'm stressing about hosting duties." Jemma explained.
"Can you send me an email to confirm you're the scribe, then?"
"Shut up, Fitz. Speaking of my hard day at college, where were you today?" Jemma asked.
Mum had a fall; I had to look after her.
"I, uh…I felt a bit off, that's all." Fitz said.
He was greeted by an overwhelming sensation as Jemma squirted something in his face and on his clothing.
"WHAT THE HELL, SIMMONS?" Fitz shouted.
"It's only disinfectant Fitz! I can't afford to get sick!" Jemma said, continuing to spray the liquid onto him.
"STOP THAT RIGHT NOW YOU MAD WOMAN!"
…
"Fitz, will you STOP suggesting improvements for my grammar? It's fine as it is!"
"Oh, well I'm sorry Simmons, I didn't realise you wanted a sub-par report to hand in at Christmas! Forgive me; do carry on with your mediocre writing skills. Better scribe than me? I think not."
"Can we not go just one hour without fighting about something? Why do you always pick a fight over nothing? It's SO FRUSTRATING!" Jemma exclaimed.
"Maybe I just need a little bit of stress release, Simmons!"
"Stress release? Please. You go to college then sit at home. I've never seen you out and about or hanging out with friends. Well, friend…as in one singular friend." Jemma said.
"You don't know me half as well as you think you do, Simmons! Don't you dare judge me when you don't know me!" Fitz said angrily.
"I know you've had it in for me since day one when I did absolutely nothing wrong! I think that's all I need to know about you! I'll have you know I'm a delight; I'm a kind, caring person who loves my friends and would do ANYTHING for them, which is why I have a whole bunch of them coming over tonight while you watch rubbish on the TV and go to bed before 9pm." Jemma retaliated.
"Here's an idea, Simmons; you stop throwing insults my way so we can get on with the work. I wouldn't want to take any time away from you getting ready for your little friends coming over to talk about college work and make fun of me." Fitz said.
"Make fun of you? You think that's how we spend our time?"
"Yes! You think I don't hear people when I walk past them in corridors? Laughing at me, calling me names, thinking I'm this freak who doesn't like company? I've been used to it for years, Simmons, and you're a hypocrite if you think you're not one of them! You're a whiny little gossip who tries to beat me in everything to make yourself feel important and superior because you know deep down how tiny and dull you really are!" Fitz shouted.
Jemma emptied her bottle of disinfectant all over him.
"And you're still filthy, what a surprise! Now get out." Jemma snapped.
"With pleasure." Fitz replied, wringing out his soggy hair over Jemma's desk as he stormed out.
"I'd invite you to my little party later, but I can't stand you." Jemma said as she followed him down the stairs.
"What makes you think I'd even want to come anyway? I'd rather be alone than spend two hours listening to drivel and clutching my ears so my mushy brain doesn't drip out of them." Fitz said, grabbing his shoes and opening the front door.
"You know what? Don't bother ever talking to me again, Fitz! I'll do this report on my own." Jemma shouted.
"FINE." Fitz screamed, slamming the door behind him as he left.
Jemma held back a few tears as she recalled Fitz's words.
She rushed back upstairs and sent an email to Mrs Henderson asking her for a new partner or if she could do the report alone. The reply told her neither option was possible; she'd fail the assignment if she and Fitz didn't work together. Fantastic.
…
Fitz wasn't at college again the next day, and Jemma had no choice but to work with him so something had to be done. He's claimed to be sick, but she thought he looked fine. Well, as fine as such a vile person could, anyway.
Jemma thanked her impeccable memory as she stormed over to Fitz's house after college (she was pretty sure she'd heard Mack mention where Fitz had lived before) and banged loudly on the door.
"Did you forget something, Karen?" Fitz asked as he opened the door. His face turned pale as he saw Jemma stood there angrily.
"Simmons?"
"You're not ill. We have to work together, Mrs Henderson said so. We'll fail otherwise." Jemma stated.
"Okay fine. I'll see you at yours next week." Fitz groaned.
"Can I come in?" Jemma asked.
"NO."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you in here. You're probably armed with more disinfectant." Fitz stated.
"Grow up, Fitz. Let me in."
"Goodbye, Simmons." Fitz said, slamming the door shut.
"OW!" Jemma gasped.
Fitz immediately opened the door and saw Jemma clutching her nose.
"I'm sorry, Simmons! I didn't mean to-"
Jemma smiled as she let go of her completely unhurt nose and rushed past Fitz into the house.
"SIMMONS, STOP!"
It was too late. Fitz rushed into the living room and saw a look of shock and horror on Jemma's face.
…
This story was partly inspired by the song 'I Miss Her' by Jessie J. I'd definitely recommend listening to it.