Interruption [in-tehr-rup-shuh n]: To do or say something that causes a break in the natural flow and order. Especially something that causes someone to stop speaking.

Simmons

I sat in the bathroom stall with my head in my hands. What had I done? That hadn't been like me at all. I'd just been so overwhelmed with the mission and that ridiculous girl, and then Fitz was there and he looked so- and he was- and then we- I closed my eyes, remembering the electricity shooting through me at his touch. My stomach swooped like a traitor.

I banged my head against the stall again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had far more control than this usually. How could I have let my emotions get the better of me? I was stronger than this. Now I had no idea what the state of my most important relationship was. I'd made it rocky and precarious all because I couldn't restrain myself. Stupid!

The hard truth was, I was terrified. My feelings for Fitz had likely always been there bubbling under the surface, but we'd always known never to cross that line – and with good reason!

I'd been in enough situations with other men at the Academy to know that sex made things messy. Feelings and emotions always got in the way of things. What would have once been a perfectly interesting and lively relationship somehow got watered down with incompatible expectations and would inevitably end with someone getting their feelings hurt and walking away. Permanently. As soon as romance got involved, that was always it. The relationship was doomed one way or another. It's just how these things worked.

Fitz was far too important for that. I had never wanted to risk our relationship that way. Even at sixteen it was abundantly clear to me that Fitz was someone I needed by my side. His input to our projects, the discussions we had, they were the best things that had ever happened to me, and they meant far more than any date or chaste kiss ever could. I never wanted that ruined by the dulling effects of hormones or the strain that romance put on a relationship. I needed Fitz. Forever, if at all possible. And I didn't want to lose that to whatever I had just thrust upon him in that supply closet.

A groan of frustration escaped my lips. There was nothing else for it. We would just have to talk. I would have to apologize and hope that our friendship was strong enough to overcome this momentary weakness. I couldn't let this spiral any further out of control.

My eyes opened and I took in a deep breath to steady myself. There, staring right back at me, was the earpiece I'd thrown away earlier. I let a bemused gust of air escape my nostrils. Well, that's technically why I'd come in here, wasn't it?

I knelt to the floor and picked up the communication device. I examined it and brought it over to the sink, giving it a quick wipe with disinfectant. I took a deep breath and inserted it back into my ear, lifting my chin to prepare for what was on the other end.

"-aby, leaving so soon?"

I cringed internally at Fitz's attempt at being suave. This was going to be difficult.

"Fitz, man, relax!" It was Hunter, whispering through a cringe of his own. "She may be a Hydra Agent, but she's still human. Don't spook her."

The Hydra Agent had been attempting to leave the club, which was what had caused Hunter to come fetch us. We couldn't lose our window of opportunity now that Fitz had already wasted his first major chance to get close to her by tagging the wrong girl. He was forced to go in for round two rather immediately. He had to flirt.

"And how's your night going, beautiful?" Had he just put on his American accent? There was a rustle over the comms and I could only imagine what Fitz was attempting.

"For the love of -! Will you put your hands down? You look like you're posing for maternity photos." Hunter was not helping.

"You're in my way," said a cold female voice.

"'course. Sorry."

"Don't apologize! Get in there!" Hunter moaned.

"I mean, yeah, I am in your way. What're you gonna do about it? Missy?"

Missy? I was so glad I couldn't see what was happening.

"Listen kid, I'm sure you're a lot of fun, but here's some advice on your first day. When a girl grabs her wallet and heads for the door, you're not getting a tip from her."

"Maybe you're the only girl I wanted a tip from…" he said. There was silence for several heartbeats.

"Don't follow me out."

"Fitz, just tag her!" I hissed into the comms, unable to stand it anymore.

There was a muffled hrmph and then more silence. I stared at myself in the mirror, noting the heavy shade of red creeping up my neck. One. Two. Three. … Five…

"It's done," he said finally. I released my breath. "She's tagged." I didn't want to know the details. It was over. And I hadn't had to watch.

"Good job, Fitz," Bobbi said, rather surprised. "Hunter, you're with me. Meet me in the alley out back. We're following her."

That was my cue. I adjusted my hair and examined myself in the mirror again. My face was still a bit splotchy, but it was fading well enough for the dim lights of the club. I glanced at my neck and frowned, brushing my hair over my shoulders again to cover it. That's as good as it would get. Time to come out of hiding and face the music.

Fitz was still on the other side of the club when I emerged. He glanced over in my direction, and I turned away quickly, trying to still the swooping of my stomach. I scurried behind the bar and looked around at the chaos it had descended into.

"Hunter! What have you been doing back here? It's a complete mess," I hissed, exasperated.

"Feeling better are we?" Hunter smirked, ignoring my irritation. "All cleaned up, as it were?"

I made a face at him.

"Just had some trouble locating my earpiece, is all," I tapped my ear. "Right as rain now."

He looked at me skeptically, then tried a different tack.

"So... our boy managed it," he nodded across the room to where Fitz was. "Flirted up a storm, that one."

"So I heard." Fitz was currently chatting with one of the other dancers. Angel, I believe it was. I forced my eyes down, focused on collecting the stray glasses and bottles to put everything back in its proper order.

"Surprisingly good with women, that one..."

I stood up straight and rolled my eyes at Hunter. I knew what he was doing, and I refused to take the bait. I shoved a bottle into his hand and pointed to the spot on the shelf where it needed to go. "Don't you have to go meet Bobbi?"

"Fine," he sniffed and placed the bottle back on the counter. "Don't tell me what I walked in on. I can fill in the blanks..." He eyed me hopefully. I blinked once, humorlessly, reaching behind him and putting the bottle away myself. "You know this is exactly how rumors are started," he crossed his arms. "If you just tell me, it'll be between us. I'll have no reason to theorize with the rest of the team!" I continued to glare and spun him around towards the door of the bar. "Or just keep quiet," he swung around and leaned over the counter. "Just be ready to live with the consequences."

"Nothing happened, Hunter," I said, hearing my voice squeak involuntarily. He raised his eyebrow at me, intrigued. I cleared my throat and readjusted my face to look deadly serious again. "And besides, who would believe you over us? We'll just deny it."

He held up a finger and froze.

"Hunter, where are you? She's getting in her car," Bobbi barked into our ears.

Hunter scrunched his mouth together in frustration, and I smiled back sweetly. "Just on my way, love!" He narrowed his eyes at me and tapped the counter with his finger. "Make sure to record his solo. We'll need evidence of that. Forever."

"Go, Hunter."

"And you'll also need something to re-watch before bed..."

I reached over and tried to smack the side of his head before he ran off, missing by a hair.

The bar wasn't nearly as busy as I was expecting it to be. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was able to keep up better without Hunter getting in the way. It was helping, having this to focus on and perfect my bartending skills. Measuring and pouring concoctions always managed to soothe my nerves and get me out of my head.

I had just put the last of the stray bottles back in the proper order when I glanced over to where Fitz had been standing. The spot empty. I craned my neck in a fleeting moment worry until a man cleared his throat behind me. I spun around.

"You must be Jemma," the tall man offered a hand out to me. "Thought I'd officially introduce myself, finally. I'm Angel. I've heard so much about you!"

I shook his hand, somewhat dazed and embarrassed at my moment of concern. There was nothing to be worried about anymore – the Hydra Agent had left and was being tracked. It should all be smooth sailing until our shifts were over. Fitz appeared just behind Angel's shoulder, hands in his pockets, smiling, but looking nervous. Right. Nothing to be worried about at all.

"I'm here to help out!" Angel beamed. "Point me where you need me!"

"Oh! Well, that's lovely," I said, glancing over at Fitz. He looked like he was working out how to say something, and I felt panic surge through me. "You know, I've actually got a lot of it covered. It's not nearly as bad as earlier and-"

Angel stepped through the little doorway, plucked up a bottle and spun it around his back, pouring a line of shots and handing it to the waiting ladies with a wink. I couldn't deny how impressive it was. And efficient. I glanced nervously over at Fitz again who had been staring at me the entire time. I felt my face colour.

"Ah, Jemma, could we…" I glanced around, trying to think of some excuse. Angel had started to put on a bit of a show at the bar and clearly did not need any help from me.

"Right," I conceded. "Yes, I suppose…" I stepped carefully out from behind the bar again and tried to keep a safe distance between myself and my best friend. He moved right in beside me, though, and placed a hand to the small of my back, guiding me away from the crowd. I gulped and focused very intently on keeping my head clear.

We settled into a dark corner, far enough away from the crowd for some privacy, but still public enough that I couldn't lose control again. We stood there for a moment, not looking at each other. When it all became too much, I finally spoke.

"Listen I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have-" "I still have a dance to do and would it be okay if-"

"Wait, what?" We both said in unison.

"No, you first," I gestured politely.

"Okay…" he looked at me cautiously. "I was just… I still have a solo dance coming up and… would it be okay if, that is, Angel offered to cover you at the bar so I could, you know… dance… With you - If that's okay…"

"Ah," I said slowly. I wasn't sure I could trust myself with another dance of his. "Fitz…" His eyes were so full of hope, but the longer I stalled, the more firmly his mouth pressed together, the further his shoulders drooped, like he knew what I was going to say. Which was a marvel because I hardly knew what to say myself.

"Just forget it," he finally said. "Bad idea…"

"I just think it would be a mistake is all," I tried.

He exhaled. "Yeah, no, completely understand," he shrugged, rubbing the back of his head and turning away. I sighed. This was it. This was why we'd never crossed that line. But at least now we could still salvage our relationship. We hadn't gone too far. He would just be sore for a few days and then it would be fine. We could move past this.

"Actually," he spun back around. I held my breath. "No, I don't understand at all, Jemma. What the hell?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? I wasn't alone in that room. If Hunter hadn't-"

"If Hunter hadn't interrupted we both would have done something we would have regretted."

"Regretted?" He took a step back. He clearly hadn't been expecting me to use that word. The look on his face twisted my insides.

"No, you know what I mean!" I tried to explain, "I got carried away, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Fitz. Sex always mucks things up and I-"

"Is that really all that was to you? Just sex?"

A muffled noise burst through our ear drums, then a strangled "Knew it!" Followed by a thud.

We both froze, not sure where that came from. It took us both a second to catch on, at which point I closed my eyes tightly and pushed a finger to my ear. "…Hunter?!"

There was a moment of static, then Bobbi's voice came through the comms. "Yeah. Sorry. We're both here…" She sounded mortified. "Looks like we all left the comms on. Just- we'll give you two some privacy..."

"Are you joking? They said Sex!" Hunter squealed. "We need details. What base are we talking here?" There was another thud and then, "Ow! Bobbi, what the-" and then silence.

Fitz and I both removed our ear-pieces, avoiding eye contact. I worried my hands together uncomfortably as the seconds ticked by.

Finally, I looked up and opened my mouth. "What do you want from me, Fitz? Really?" His expression was unreadable. A split second more, and I might have been able to see what was going on behind his eyes. But then he steeled himself off and returned my gaze, as unsure of what to say as I was.

I took a small step forward and grabbed his hand. "Because I can't lose you. I don't know what I'd do if things changed between us. You mean too much to me. If we get romance involved, we'll inevitably muck it all up. And then..."

Fitz cut me off with a heavy sigh and removed his hand from mine. "I… I better go get ready. Solo coming up soon so…"

"Right. Of course." I waited for him to say something more.

"I…" He stopped for a moment, but then appeared to change his mind and turned back away. "I'll see you after."

I watched him stock off. It took everything in me not to go after him. This was the right thing. We could move past this.

"So what you guys talk about?" Angel nudged my arm as I stepped behind the bar. He took one look at my face and his grin dropped like a stone. "Oh. Not good?"

"Oh, you know. Just pre-show jitters is all," I flicked a small smile up at him and grabbed hold of one of the glasses. This bar managed to feel smaller every time I stepped back here. I'd be very glad to see the last of it as soon as this whole mission was completed.

"Uh huh…" Angel said skeptically. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a terrible liar?" I blinked at him. He cocked his head and smiled. "Well you are."

"I'd really rather not discuss this at the moment," I ducked my head down and grabbed one of the liqueur bottles.

"Right. Totally your call. We won't discuss the elephant in the room. Boundaries: respected."

I tutted and began to pour into the glass. I could feel his eyes on me even as I handed the cocktail to the customer and processed her change.

"Can I just say one thing?" He leaned against the counter.

I closed my eyes. "What is it?"

"You've got balls, girl. Like big hairy lady-balls."

"What?"

"Hun, please," he held a hand up to me. "No one's ever tried taking on that firecracker before. The redhead? Total bitch, right?" Angel's smile was wide and genuine. And rather infectious. I brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "She's here all the time, and so many of us guys would give half our tips to tell her off like you did. And you got her kicked out! Huge balls."

"Oh," I said, surprised and oddly flattered. "Well, thank you."

"So what'd she say? What tipped you over the edge?" He tucked his fist under his chin, leaning forward, ready for the juicy gossip.

"Oh, well…"

"It was something about your outfit? The drinks? The music?"

"Actually…"

"It was about Fitz, wasn't it?"

"I mean…"

"Did she go with the small dick excuse again?" I gaped back, shocked at his bluntness. Angel took that as confirmation and shook his head knowingly. "Girl, if I've heard it once I've heard it a thousand times. Let me tell you, most people are satisfied with what they got. You feel me?" His hand rested on his hip with the utmost sass. "What's homegirl expecting, a footlong sausage? No one's got that. No one wants that." My face was extremely hot at this point. "And okay, yeah, you gotta have something big to be in our line of work, obviously. But that can be personality, that can be muscles, that can be dance moves, whatever. At the end of the day, no one really cares about the size of whatever's getting thrust in their face so long as it is getting thrust in their face. Amiright?"

I stared at him and nodded a little numbly. "Um, yes. Absolutely."

"Sorry," Angel shook himself off. "I really needed to get that out. Did I mention the bitch bothers me?"

I chuckled a little, feeling the tension start to wane. "You may have mentioned it."

"Thank you for getting her kicked out. Seriously."

"My pleasure," I grinned. Angel was really starting to grow on me.

"So you and Fitz, huh? What's the deal?"

My smile faded almost instantaneously. "It's nothing. We just… we'll be fine."

"Oh, Jemma, no! You have to see how mad that boy is about you!" I pursed my lips and gave a stiff shrug. "Please tell me you didn't friend-zone him again!"

At that, I bristled. "Excuse me, but why does everyone use that term like it's such a bad thing?" I tossed my towel down onto the counter with a fair amount of force. This was constantly a problem with people, time and again, and I was sick of it. "The friend-zone as you so gratuitously call it, is a place of the utmost importance, I'll have you know." Angel nodded, surprised at my sudden change in mood. "I would much rather call someone a friend and show them that I value their company as a lasting endeavor as opposed to whatever 'hump em and dump em' culture is so prevalent these days. A friend doesn't get pushed out of your life when a puerile attempt at dating inevitably fails," I spat. "Because that's how it is. No one really remains friends after ending a more than platonic relationship, no matter how much they say they will. He's too important to throw away like that."

Angel stood with his hands up, blinking. He couldn't have been more shocked if I'd pulled a gun out on him. "Damn. You've been needing to get that out too, huh?"

"I'm just… tired of people putting romanticized expectations on us. We're perfectly happy as we are, thank you very much."

"Mmhmm…" Angel hummed sarcastically, making a show of not saying anything. I glared at him. "Sorry, but that's clearly not true," he said, all but bursting.

"It has to be!" I all but shouted.

"Oh honey. I thought you were way more of an optimist than that. Look at you. How long have you known each other?"

"Ten years…"

"Shit!" He put a hand on his waist. "Seriously? New meaning to the term blue balls…" I continued to glare. "Sorry! It's just… why are you so afraid of it ending before it's even begun? You've known each other ten fucking years! What could possibly happen at this point that would make either of you walk away?"

"I don't know. A lot of things…"

"Like…?"

"Well I can't just list things off! It's complicated."

"Nah, it's not complicated. Not really. If he's really as important to you as you say he is, at least hear what he's got to say about it first."

"But what if it all ends?"

"Jemma. Seriously. You've got big hairy lady-balls," he grinned. "Use them for God's sake!"

I chewed on my lip, hugging myself tightly. Angel did have a small point. I had yet to hear what Fitz thought about this whole business. For all I knew, he felt the same and just needed to process it. A mild wash of fear ran through my chest, and before I could stop the thought from forming, I realized that I certainly hoped he wanted more. He was always the more idealistic one. But how could I bring it up again? I'd already said my part and Fitz didn't seem willing to talk about it further.

"I know one thing you could do to start off…" Angel nodded patiently towards the stage. "Go on. What'll it hurt? I know you want to."

"But what if-"

"Okay, no. Just no!" Angel stood up straight, looking rather fed up with me. "How does anyone else handle you two? Stop with the buts and get over there and go get a goddamned lap-dance already! Christ! It won't kill you!"

He pushed me out from behind the bar, ignoring my protests as I scooted along the floor. "Hold on – give me – just a -"

"I gotcha covered here. Have fun!" He winked and locked the bar door behind me.

I stamped my foot on the ground lightly. "I was about to go, you needn't have treated me like a child!" He raised an eyebrow and waved me off. I frowned and turned back towards the room at large.

I took a deep breath as I walked slowly over to the other side of the club. Towards the front of the stage. My heart was hammering in my throat. What was I doing? Was this really a good idea?

Dixie was already on stage, ready to announce the next solo. Fitz's solo. I willed myself to take another step forward so I would be in a position where he would see me. As luck would have it, a chair opened up and I slipped in, blood pounding in my ears. I held my hands together tightly in my lap to keep from fidgeting.

"And for those of you ladies who know our regulars," Dixie boomed, not even needing a mic, "it's my great pleasure to introduce onto the stage tonight a special treat. We have some fresh blood for you, ladies!" The crowd cheered, all but eating out of the palm of her hand. Dixie held up a finger and they quieted. "Now he may not look like it at first, but let me tell you girls that this hunk of a man has moves you would not believe. I had to call the fire department to be on standby tonight, ladies, because this man brings up the heat!" Dixie shouted. Enthusiastic whoops and cries rippled through the audience in anticipation. I clutched my hands tighter together, noticing my fingernails go a bit white with the pressure. This really was all ridiculous. Hunk? Moves? Heat? None of those terms were what I would have ever associated with Fitz before tonight... "So please, ladies, open your hearts, your wallets, and your laps... and give a Big ole' Dixie welcome to Electric Leo!"

The women around me exploded with cheers and roars of delight as the lights snapped off. Music pumped through the room, and I tried to smooth my hands against my legs to keep the blood circulating. What was I doing? He was going to be on stage any second, and there was no way he would miss me. Oh God.

The lights burst onto the stage, flooding it and momentarily blinding me before my eyes could adjust. I squinted and craned my neck.

I'm an outlaw, Quick on the draw. Somethin' you've never seen before.
And I dare a mother fucker to come in my face.

Goodness these lyrics were vulgar! I frowned. Seats right in front of the stage made it oddly difficult to see things at the back properly. He must be by the curtains still, waiting for a big cue to come to the center.

I got somethin' chrome. And I got it from home. And it ain't a microphone.
And I dare a mother fucker to come in my face.

I noticed a slight rustle of fabric at the top of the curtains, but still no Fitz. The women roared louder, hoping to coax Electric Leo out of hiding.

My stomach began to twist with worry. Where was he? Surely he wouldn't miss this? He'd seemed to rather enjoy it before. I turned back towards the bar and Angel was frowning too. Finally, a man skirted on stage and jumped right into a thrust without missing a beat. It was not Fitz.

I stood on shaky legs and was back at the bar before I even realized I was moving. "Angel, pass me that tablet under the bar!" I barked, my mind racing a mile a minute, trying to fit pieces of the puzzle together.

"Ah, there's a call for you," he said, shoving the receiver of the bar phone towards me anxiously.

"Fitz?" I asked desperately.

"Jemma?" It was Bobbi on the other end. "Listen, I think we got the wrong girl. Have you guys seen anything else suspicious? The Hydra Agent's still gotta be there."

"Why? Where are you?"

Bobbi snorted. "Well let's put it this way. Unless her big mission was to break into some guy's house and start tossing his clothes onto the front lawn…"

"Oh God," I said, looking down at the tablet. The map on the screen showed two distinct beacons. One across town, presumably with Hunter and Bobbi. The other was still here. In the club. "...Fitz!"

In that moment my surroundings melted away. I glued my eyes to the tablet and raced through the back door, through the stairwells, tying to get my bearings with the map and hone in on the beacon. My heart was pounding. I had no control. I took the stairs two at a time, descending into the basement as quickly and quietly as I could.

I could still hear the music pounding through the club above, along with the women's cries of joy. They didn't appear to care that their promised 'new blood' wasn't the one giving them their show. What had happened in such a short time?

I reached the lowest landing and stood still. The muffled lilt of a woman's voice was echoing around the corner. A closed door was at the end of the hall, and I knew without question that it was my destination. I placed the tablet on the floor out of my way and crept towards the door as quietly as I could. Of all the times for Bobbi and Hunter not to be here...

I stood carefully with my back against the wall and took several deep breaths, gathering myself for whatever was on the other side of that door. Then, finally, I rushed forward and swung it open. A heavy bang reverberated as I burst through the doorway.

Fitz

I'd never seen Jemma so embarrassed. She nearly ran out of that storage room. Hunter stayed by the door smirking, looking me up and down. I shrugged and pushed myself away from the table, following Jemma back towards the bar and trying to get a hold of myself.

Had we really almost… on a mission? At a strip club? I couldn't even think the words, it was so implausible. What did it mean? Was it just the adrenaline and the atmosphere, or did she actually feel the same way I did? I mean it certainly felt… great, but… I had so many questions. We'd have to find another moment. We definitely needed to talk.

"Great, you found them," Bobbi rounded on us, trying to look professional and not overly concerned. "Jemma, are you okay? What was all that about?"

"Hm? Oh," Jemma flinched away as Bobbi tried to examine a red mark on her neck. I shoved my hands firmly into my pockets. That mark could have been from that scuffle Jemma got in with the redhead... but it could just as easily have been - me… "No, I'm fine," Jemma pushed her hair over her shoulders to cover her neck, glancing at me quickly. "Just a misunderstanding." Growing increasingly more flushed, she crossed her arms over her chest. I caught myself staring just in time and looked away.

Putrid cat liver! Gran in a yellow polka-dot bikini. Internet Explorer. Ikea Allen Keys. Get a grip! We are on a mission!

"Right, well, the girl got kicked out so we won't need to worry about her again," Bobbi said firmly. "I talked with Dixie and smoothed things over, so we've still got freedom to do our thing."

Do our thing. Who had started our thing in the storage room? Had it been Jemma? Or had it been me? I know I certainly had wanted to, in the heat of the moment, but Jemma seemed just as for it. She had encouraged it. Obviously she had been thinking of me that way.

"She just asked to collect her tab, so it looks like the target is on the move. Fitz, we need you in there."

"You need what?" My eyes snapped over to Bobbi and I tried to replay what she'd been saying. "Hold on, you need me to – but my next number isn't for at least a few more songs."

"Improvise," she shrugged. "Flirt. Figure out a way to get close to her."

"Flirt?" I asked dumbly. Jemma turned away, curling her fingers up the back of her neck and through her hair. She looked distinctly concerned. Now - was that concern for the mission? For my flirting abilities? Or the fact that I had to flirt with another woman? These were important questions. "You sure one of you couldn't just…"

"Fitz, you'll be fine, " Bobbi said. "You can be charming when you need to be. You'll do great."

I scoffed and looked over at Jemma. "Go on, Fitz. You'll be fine," she forced a smile to her face. It was obviously fake. Jemma was typically not the jealous type but perhaps now that...

"We'll all be in your ear if you need a hand," Bobbi offered, trying to encourage me.

"Actually," Jemma lifted a finger, "I think my earpiece must have fallen out while I was in the toilets…" She gave Bobbi a pointed look that did not escape my notice.

"Right," Bobbi nodded. "Well, Hunter and I will be with you then, Fitz."

"I hate to cut this pow-wow short, boys and girls," Hunter kept his eyes focused on the back of the club. "But looks like the target's about to be on the move…"

I whipped my head around. The woman was tall and elegant and looked extremely dangerous.

"Now or never, Casanova," Hunter winked.

A hand rested tentatively on my shoulder as the others slipped away to their positions. I turned my head. Jemma opened her mouth and looked up at me with the biggest, most beautiful, most worried eyes I had ever seen. I fitted my face into a grin, exuding confidence with everything I could muster. "I'll be fine," I nodded. She took a deep breath, squeezed my shoulder, then pushed herself away into the darkness without a word.

It was just me now. Me and my mojo. I took a big gulp and squared my shoulders. I could do this. And when it's all over, Jemma and I would… y'know. Talk.

I shook myself off and sauntered confidently across the room.

"Hey baby, leaving so soon?" I said, charm in full force. I had ambled up behind the black-haired target who had just stood. Hunter was right, she was getting ready to leave. She jumped at the sound of my voice. Apparently she hadn't seen me coming. She recovered herself and glared down at me dangerously.

"Fitz, man, relax!" Hunter whispered through the comms. "She may be a Hydra Agent, but she's still human. Don't spook her."

Right. Right. Less leaping out of thin air. She was in heels, so she was quite a bit taller. I tried my best not to be intimidated. On the plus side, she was looking at me, acknowledging my existence, which was a lot further than I normally got with most girls.

"A-And how's your night going, beautiful?" I schmoozed, aiming for a far more approachable charm. To my brain, apparently, that meant sounding like a cowboy. Where had that accent come from? Too late, I had to roll with it. Thank God Simmons wasn't listening to this.

I casually slipped my hands onto my hips, holding my unbuttoned shirt open. Confidence. Confidence is sexy and alluring. The woman looked me up and down, so I assumed it was working.

"For the love of -!" Hunter hissed in my ear. "Will you put your hands down? You look like you're posing for maternity photos." I dropped my hands immediately, swinging them out in front and brushing one up into my hair as casually as possible. I elbowed her in the boob.

The woman stepped to the side and scowled, ready to eviscerate me. "You're in my way."

"'Course. Sorry," I bumbled. I was caught between feeling like a fool and trying to be confident. And not get killed. Can't forget that detail.

"Don't apologize!" Hunter moaned. "Get in there!"

"I mean, yeah, I am in your way." I jerked to a stand-still in front of her again, aiming for cocky, tag at the ready. "What're you gonna do about it? Missy?"

The woman was easily several inches taller than me. She looked down her nose, and in that moment I was reduced to vermin. "Listen kid, I'm sure you're a lot of fun, but here's some advice on your first day," she leaned close, put a sharply manicured hand on the side of my neck and whispered into my ear. "When a girl grabs her wallet and heads for the door, you're not getting a tip from her."

I exhaled. She was far too close for comfort. But I suppose this was a good thing. "Maybe you're the only girl I wanted a tip from…" I said, removing her hand and looking her square in the face.

She raised an eyebrow and after several seconds, a smile quirked up the corner of her mouth. It didn't reach her eyes. "Don't follow me out."

"Fitz, just tag her!" Jemma hissed into the comms. I froze for a millisecond. I had no idea she'd been listening in. I mean of course she would have if she found her earpiece... but… Oh lord, how much had she heard?

No time to dwell, I took two firm strides towards the target, with no real plan, and… I slapped the tag square on her bottom. Full smack. Open palm. Actually made a pretty satisfying noise. She stopped short and turned around slowly, seething with surprise and disgust. The look on that woman's face could have peeled the paint off a wall. Somehow I managed to stay true to character and shot her a cocky wink. She sneered and walked resolutely out of the establishment.

I have never felt so dirty. But I hadn't been killed! So.

"It's done," I muttered under my breath, shaking myself off. "She's tagged."

"Good job, Fitz," Bobbi said, sounding as uncertainly surprised as I felt. "Hunter, you're with me. Meet me in the alley out back. We're following her."

It took me a moment to catch up with myself. It was over. I breathed and took in my surroundings. The club was teeming with women. Screaming, deliriously happy women, of all shapes and sizes and varying levels of made up. And I only had eyes for one. I watched as Jemma slipped back behind the bar, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and smiled at me across the club. I started walking towards her. If this whole silly mission had done anything else, it had shown me that I finally had courage to tell her how I felt.

Half-way across the room though, Angel was waiting against a wall with a pair of shots. He chuckled as he saw me approaching and held one out.

"Please tell me you didn't witness any of that," I groaned, glancing over to the bar where Jemma was bickering with Hunter.

"Here," he nodded to the bright purple drink. "A congratulations and some liquid courage before your big solo."

"Right," I stared dubiously at the offered shot. "I'd nearly forgotten about that." In all the confusion with the flirting and the tagging and the… Jemma… I still had a whole solo I'd been working all day towards.

Angel slapped my back with a big grin. "Bottoms up!"

The sharp syrupy liquid burned down my throat, and I coughed. "What the hell was that?"

"Porn Star!" He seemed rather pleased with himself.

"Now that's vile," I held my tongue out of my mouth, hoping to get the taste out.

"Takes hair off your chest, that's for sure!" Angel laughed. "…So?"

"So what?"

"Please. You shove her into a storage closet and both get dragged out looking guiltier than Pooh Bear with a honey pot. Details."

I looked over at the bar, unable to hold back a slight grin. "No details," I crossed my arms. "None of your business."

He stared and I adjusted the glass in my hand. "Fine. Don't tell me," Angel sighed dramatically, but I refused to take the bait. An idea began to form in my mind.

It occurred to me that Angel may just be of use. If I was going to attempt to hold nothing back, I may as well do it in a big way. Who doesn't love a grand gesture?

"Actually," I turned to face him. "I may need your help with something."

Jemma was wiping the counters and cleaning up the spills when we approached the bar. I hadn't realized she and Angel hadn't been properly introduced yet, but I suppose it made sense. I waited through the pleasantries, doing everything I could to keep my nerves in check. I had just been in close quarters with a dangerous Hydra Agent and survived. I could absolutely do this!

"I'm here to help out!" Angel beamed. "Point me where you need me!"

"Oh! Well, that's lovely," Jemma smiled apprehensively. She looked over at me, just as nervous as I felt. "You know, I've actually got a lot of it covered. It's not nearly as bad as earlier and-"

Angel stepped boldly through the little doorway, ignoring her protests, and spun a bottle around his back. He poured a line of shots and handed it to the waiting customers with a wink. Jemma watched anxiously, but was clearly impressed when all was said and done.

She must still be flustered over what happened in the storage room. She got surprisingly nervous about these things. The old me would have quietly waited for her cue on how to carry on - but then, the old me also wouldn't have had the courage to get into that situation in the first place. I needed to do this now while I was still riding the adrenaline from my success on the mission. She noticed me staring and blushed prettily. Before she could get any more flustered, I jumped right in.

"Ah, Jemma, could we…" I motioned with my head.

"Right," she breathed. "Yes, I suppose…" So far so good.

I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her away from the crowd. The warmth of her skin radiated through the thin fabric of her top. It felt nice. I had to concentrate on my plan so that I didn't steer her right towards the back room again so we could finish what we'd started. I forced myself to stop in a relatively quiet corner where we could have some semblance of privacy. We both stood silently for a moment as I strung together the proper words. Finally, I just spat it out to get the ball rolling.

"I still have a dance to do and would it be okay if-" "Listen I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have-"

"Wait, what?" We both said in unison.

"No, you first," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Okay…" I tried to read her expression. "I was just… I still have a solo dance coming up and… would it be okay if, that is, Angel offered to cover you at the bar so I could, you know… dance… With you. If that's okay…"

"Ah," she said slowly. "Fitz…"

And then I knew. She was stalling. She was running away. Whatever had happened back there, she was going to say it was a mistake. She was going to say I'd misread things. She was going to...

"Just forget it," I finally said, losing my nerve. "Bad idea…"

"I just think it would be a mistake is all," she started.

There it was. A mistake. "Yeah, no, completely understand," I shrugged, rubbing the back of my head and turning away. The bottom was falling out of my stomach. A mistake. We'd tried it and it wasn't what we wanted. Wasn't what she wanted. Wasn't- But that couldn't be all... Now or never, it was time to be bold and confident. "Actually," I spun back around. She looked up at me with sad eyes. "No, I don't understand at all, Jemma. What the hell?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? I wasn't alone in that room. If Hunter hadn't-"

"If Hunter hadn't interrupted, we both would have done something we would have regretted."

"Regretted?" I took a step back. Had I misread things that badly?

"No, you know what I mean!" She said quickly, "I got carried away, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Fitz. Sex always mucks things up and I-"

"Is that really all that was to you? Just sex?"

There was a muffled noise, then a strangled "Knew it!" Followed by a thud.

We both froze, hearts in our throats. Then Simmons pushed a finger to her ear. "…Hunter?!"

"Yeah. Sorry. We're both here…" To her credit, Bobbi sounded apologetic. "Looks like we all left the comms on. Just- we'll give you two some privacy..."

"Are you joking? They said Sex!" Hunter squealed. "We need details. What base are we talking here?" There was another thud and then, "Ow! Bobbi, what the-" and then silence.

I removed my ear-piece immediately and crossed my arms over my chest. Jemma did the same. I looked back towards the bar. Now would be the perfect time for a sink hole to open up and swallow me…

Jemma watched me carefully, pinning me to the spot. "What do you want from me, Fitz? Really?"

I felt my face screw up at that unfair question. I didn't know how to respond. Or, to be more accurate, I was beginning to realize exactly what I wanted to say. Of course. I wanted her.

I looked at my feet. I'd wanted her for so long that the hope of her wanting me too had become so improbable. And those feelings that refused to fade away... It was all clicking into place, now of all times, that it was obviously more than friendship, more than a crush, more than just sex. What if, the reason all those feelings weren't leaving was because I was... There was nothing else for it. I'd actually let myself fall in love with her.

And she – God. She didn't appear to feel even half the same way I did. Could we go back after that? After I finally knew how I actually felt? I wasn't sure if I could. And I didn't know how to say it without pushing her away.

So I did what I always did before. I kept quiet and met her eyes. Jemma took a small step forward and grabbed my hand. "Because I can't lose you. I don't know what I'd do if things changed between us. You mean too much to me. If we get romance involved, we'll inevitably muck it all up. And then..."

I released a heavy sigh, making her jump a little and drop my hand. My ears were ringing and I was beginning to feel sick. I didn't want to hear any more. "I… I better go get ready. Solo coming up soon so…"

"Right. Of course." She just stood there, looking guilty and unsure.

"I…" I wanted to comfort her. But I just couldn't right now. "I'll see you after."

I marched away without looking back. I needed space to come to terms with everything. I walked straight to the back room, the correct one this time, where my costume was waiting.

Cat-calls from the other dancers met my ears as I approached my locker. No luck in getting ready in peace, it would seem. One of the guys nudged my arm and asked about the 'cat fight' between Jemma and the redhead. I turned and saw each face staring back intently, plastered with varying degrees of smirk. I had no patience for any of it. I glowered at them, wadded up my costume and shoved it under my arm to find a different room to get ready in.

Collapsing onto a bench in a small room down the hall, I buried my hands in my hair. God, how was I going to get through this now? Confidence was sexy, they'd said... Well that was all shot to pieces now. Why was I even trying to be sexy anyways? Simmons didn't feel the same way. I'd stupidly convinced myself that she had, and now here I was, suffering the consequences exactly like I should have expected. This was why I'd never said anything before.

At least she still wanted me in her life, unlike her previous 'boyfriends'. I was clearly important. Just no romance or funny business. That was off the table. I sighed. And I loved her. Could I actually do what she was asking?

I picked up the costume and held it in front of me. It was pink. Glitter was everywhere. This was ridiculous! There was just so much Velcro and layers to the damned thing. I held it upside down and angrily attempted to make sense of it. Just as I bent over to take my shoes off, a creak issued from the corner of the room. I looked up, irritated, and the world went dark.

I had no idea how much time had passed when my eyes finally opened again. I was in a small room, I knew that much. Distant cheers and the echoed pounding of a beat told me I was probably still in the club.

"Wakey wakey, little agent." A female voice taunted. I felt so groggy. A light burst on, and I blinked back from the shock of it. My eyes tried to focus. I was sitting in the corner of the small room with my hands and bare feet tied to a pipe in the wall. A female shape began to emerge before my blurry eyes, staring at me owlishly with a cocked head.

"Not you again," I groaned. "Haven't you caused enough trouble?"

"You're the one causing trouble," the redhead squinted her eyes at me. "You and your partner keep getting in my way," she put her hands on her hips. "You get me kicked out. And then you camp out in the room I'm supposed to meet my buyer in! Like, hello!" She flipped her hair. "What's a girl gotta do to throw you off her scent?"

"So you are the Hydra Agent," I said dully. Normally I'd be quite proud that I'd pegged her right from the start, but apparently that hadn't done the team much good this time.

"It's a work in progress, actually," she chewed at one of her long nails. "After this sale, I'll be a full-fledged member."

"Do they give out merit badges for kidnapping too?" I sniffed, testing my wrists against the ropes.

"Don't be a smart-ass," she snapped. "I figure a live Shield Agent will sweeten the deal."

"Live. I like that word," I muttered and she began to pace. "But you know my team is probably already looking for me. I should be on stage right now, so they'll have noticed I'm gone."

She looked momentarily miffed. "Well, whatever. We'll deal with that when we get to it." She continued pacing. "Besides, most of your team's gone already. And I screwed up your communications systems enough that if your pretty little bartender chick notices anything, she'll be on her own. I can totally take her one-on-one."

I frowned. It's not that I didn't trust that Jemma could hold her own again, it's just that this girl seemed to be her own brand of crazy that even May wouldn't be prepared for. She'd be just the type to fight dirty.

And she'd been the one messing up our communications? I suppose it made sense, but it also made me somewhat concerned. She obviously had more going on upstairs than met the eye to have pulled the wool over our eyes for so long. I watched her pace back and forth, trying not to let me see the number of times she glanced at her watch.

"So… how long do we have to sit here then?" Yes, I was complaining, but I think I'd earned that right. My legs were stiff from the hard ground and all the new positions I'd had to force them into all day.

"He should be here any minute," the redhead blinked. "The meet was for 11, but he's probably just tied up or something."

"Ironic," I lifted my tied hands. She rolled her eyes. "But you are aware that it's well past 11:00 by now, right?"

"Of course, I'm not stupid!" She snapped dangerously. I should really stop taunting my tormenters, but it just came out of me. "He's coming," she insisted, sounding for all the world like a spurned girlfriend. She glanced at her watch again. "He's just a bit late."

There was something in how she said it that caught my attention, but I knew well enough that that was a minefield I did not want to walk into. I tested the ropes against my wrists again and found a loop I could just shift my thumb into, if only I could work my hands around it... I gritted my teeth, realizing what I needed to do.

"So... So you know this guy?" I pushed, trying to distract her as my hands worked away.

"Mhmm…" she glanced at her watch once again, and then the door, ignoring me.

"Sure, fine. Don't tell me," I huffed. "I'll just sit here staring at the wall. Nothing else to do."

"Oh stop being dramatic," she leaned over and tightened the ropes around my ankles, then looked off into the distance with a hauntingly wistful smile. It was uncomfortable. "Well if you must know, he's my fiancé."

"Your fiancé?" I blinked, but continued to twist my thumb between the rope as I pressed her for more of the story. That was unexpected. "Why are you selling information to a man you're getting married to?"

"It's a surprise!" She giggled, making me cringe. "And okay, he's technically not my fiancé yet. But that's just semantics."

"How..?!" If I could have smacked my forehead then, I would have. "You know what, I don't even-" I tried to backtrack. Not even freedom was worth the insight into this woman's mind. I sighed. "I'm going to hear anyway, aren't I?" My charm was a curse sometimes.

"See, I figure if I do this," she gushed, "it'll prove how much I love him, and how much he can trust me." She definitely had the crazy eyes perfected. "Then he's bound to notice me and pop the question!"

"The amount of sense this is making is just -" she moved her face towards me in a flash, crazy eyes inches from my face. "I mean, obviously that makes perfect sense," I simpered. "Nothing says true love like destroying people's lives."

"Thanks," she grinned. "I thought so too."

My thumb finally slipped between two layers of the rope and I began to pull at it to loosen it. I just needed a bit more... "One question," I piped up. "If you want to marry him so much, why go to all this trouble? Why not just ask him yourself?"

She shot me the most contemptuous look I'd ever been on the receiving end of. And I'd known Simmons for a decade, so that's saying something. "Why don't you just ask him yourself?" She said in an ear-grating imitation of my accent. "That's what you sound like!"

I frowned. I knew for a fact I didn't sound like that. I had the voice-recorded notes to prove it.

"It's just that you seem a bit frustrated," I said, attempting the sympathy tactic Bobbi had mentioned once. "Shouldn't he already know you're worth being with by now?"

The redhead grunted. "Please! We hardly know each other! And okay, he doesn't know me, know me. Like, we've hooked up a few times, but why would we need to know each other?"

I'd heard a sound out in the hall, which was probably Prince Charming himself. She just needed to keep talking a little longer, then I'd get my hands free of these ropes... God, they were tight though.

"He's got money and connections, and he's totally hot in a non-threatening but totally threatening kind of way, right?" I hitched my wrist to the side, hoping she wouldn't notice the angle I'd managed to maneuver it into. She had pulled out her phone and was showing me a picture of him.

"Oh absolutely," I leaned forward and attempted to look impressed. "A real catch, that one."

"Right? Fucking Jodi and Lee-Anne can suck it!" She stood and wandered over to the door, looking at the photo fondly. There was a rustle out in the hall that caught our attention. We both looked up, then her eyes snapped down at me with my arm twisted and tangled in the rope. "Hold on, what are you-"

And suddenly, the door burst open.

The edge of it slammed right into the back of the girl's head with a loud smack, and she dropped instantly to the ground, unconscious. Her phone went flying, shattering across the floor. I struggled with the rope around my wrists, trying to edge back into the wall in the confusion, but I hadn't had enough time. I was still stuck tight. That's when I actually looked up.

"Simmons?" Jemma stood in the doorway looking wild and breathless.

"Fitz!" She smiled with relief and rushed forward, nearly tripping on the prone figure of the redhead. "Oh goodness. Is that-?"

"Our Hydra Agent," I nodded. God, why did Jemma always have to look so perfect? Despite everything, my stomach still fluttered at the sight of her. "Well, she's sort of Hydra... But do not ask, the tale is way too disturbing to relive."

"Right... A-are you okay?" She knelt down beside me, checking the ropes around my ankles and wrists.

"Yeah, great," I smiled. "Untie me and we'll message in to Hunter and Bobbi."

"Right," she looked both nervous and thrilled. She reached down and began to untie my ankles, warm hands brushing against my skin as she tugged at the ropes. I held my breath and she glanced up at me briefly. When she caught my eye, she blushed and looked back down.

"Goodness, these are tight," she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You're telling me," I braced against the burn as she twisted the ropes to loosen them.

"There we are," she said finally as my feet came free. She patted my foot and looked up, smiling. "Now for the next..." She was much closer than either of us had realized. We both held our breath as the woops in the club above reached a crescendo. She blinked, blushing, and leaned back, cutting the moment off. I chewed on my lower lip. I needed to stop doing this to myself!

Jemma looked to the side where the redhead was. "Actually, hold on a moment," she stood. "Let me just..."

Simmons marched over to the redhead, leaving me there, confused, wrists still tied to the pipe. She lashed the girl's hands together with the rope that had just been around my feet, then began to unceremoniously drag her out into the hallway. There were a number of thuds and bumps, and insincere apologies as I craned my neck to see what was going on.

"Simmons?" I called out after her, confused and alone. She reappeared almost instantly.

"That should not have felt so satisfying," she grinned with a twinkle in her eye. "She may have a few bumps in the morning."

"Everything okay?" I gulped, hoping to get a clue as to what was happening.

"You tell me," Jemma squared herself off in front of me, putting her hands on her hips. "Fitz, you and I still have a few things to clear up."

"We what?"

"You heard me. You never answered my question before."

I felt my face burn, realizing what she was doing. "Is this really the time, Jemma?" I struggled weakly against the rope around my wrists. I should have kept at it...

"Well you can't run away from me here. So go on. What do you want from me?"

"I-I don't want anything from you," I said bitterly. "We're still friends, just as you said, and-"

"But what do you want, Fitz?" she gestured to me in frustration. "I get the distinct feeling that you've been holding back, and we always promised we'd be honest with each other."

I snorted in response. Honest!

She took a small step closer. "Do you want something more? Because I have to admit that, well, before... that was... quite nice."

I rolled my eyes.

Jemma was fishing for a reaction from me, and I was not making it easy for her, I knew. "Well is that not what you want?" She retorted.

"Well I mean, sure," I shrugged. "That's not a bad option, Jemma, but I just-" I shook my head. "Never mind. It'll only make this worse."

"Fitz, please, just tell me what you want and I'll let you go," she pleaded.

I released an excessively long sigh. She quite literally had me in a corner. If ever was the time to be bold and confident, I really had no choice at the moment. I pursed my lips and looked right at her. "Fine. Jemma. I'm in love with you. Will you let me go now?"

She stared at me for a long moment before responding. "You're what?" She looked stunned.

"I know it's not what you want to hear," I grumbled. Her gaze was too searching. I felt so exposed. "But I've been trying really hard to make it all go away for a long time. And it just won't, and, well. There it is. I love you. That's just how it is."

"Oh." She said, sitting down next to me. "Well... Why did you never say anything?"

"Probably should have," I shrugged. The silence stretched on for a few minutes as she tried to piece words together. It was unbearable. "You're scared that this changes things between us," I supplied. "And it probably does, but I can't pretend it's okay to be just your friend anymore," I looked down. "If I can't, if you don't want to, then it's... perhaps we should just-"

"Fitz!" Jemma said sharply, making my head snap back up. "Will you let me speak? I just – I wasn't expecting love," she said, a bit breathlessly.

"Oh..." I looked away, then back, feeling more self-conscious by the second. "W-what were you expecting?"

She shrugged her shoulders and let her hands flop against her knees, grasping for an explanation. "I don't know. Something a little more need-fulfilling perhaps...?"

"For God's sake, Jemma. I'm not some kind of pervert," I rolled my eyes.

"No I know you're not-"

"I may be a man, but not everything is dictated by my-"

"I didn't mean to say that you were only interested in-"

"-have needs, but I've been pretty good at keeping everything in-"

"-never meant to imply that the tension-"

"-just untie me now? We can forget this whole thing-"

"Ugh, Fitz!" Jemma finished loudly in her typically exasperated tone. I closed my mouth to keep from going on. But then she leaned forward. And she did the last thing I expected her to do. She pressed her lips to mine.

She tasted like… sunshine. She moved softly against me, exploring tenderly. It was much different than the heat of the storage room, but somehow more intimate. I leaned into her, and she drifted her hands down, gently untying the rope and giving me a last quick peck on the lips.

"If you must know," she whispered against my cheek. "I feel the same way. Always have."

All I could do was smile like an idiot, wanting our lips to be to be together again. Then my brain caught up with what she'd said. "Wait... What?"

Jemma shrugged, grinning.

"Always?" I asked, finding the concept hard to process. "...Really?"

"Well maybe not during that Halliday Cup fiasco. But yeah. Since the start," she smiled. I could only stare back, dumbfounded. "Sorry it took me so long. I just... I don't think I was ready to admit it to myself in case we ruined it. You really are the most important person to me," she blushed and pecked my lips quickly again. "Besides, I don't think I can resist much longer..." I beamed and leaned in to deepen our kisses.

"Hold on," I held up a finger suspiciously, leaning back. "How do I know you don't just want me for my body?" Jemma snorted. I did my best not to take offense. "Well, just needed to be sure," I sidled closer to her, pulling her in to me.

Then the door burst open again.

"Oh for God's sakes!" I cried, turning to face the door.

"Is everyone okay?" Hunter rushed forward, then skidded to a halt when he saw Jemma and I sitting so close. "Argh, not again!" He tried to back-track as quickly as possible without pulling his groin muscle. It was not graceful.

"What is it?" Bobbi called from the hallway, sounding worried.

"Don't go in there! Shield your eyes!" Hunter yelped as Bobbi dashed through the doorway.

Jemma and I stood side by side with our arms crossed. Jemma tapped her foot impatiently and fixed Hunter with her most piercing glare. "Really, Hunter. There's nothing to see. Get a grip!"

"She's lying," his head swiveled between us and Bobbi, mouth hanging open in defense. "They were-"

"Hunter. Give it a rest, will you?" Bobbi sighed, shooting me and Jemma an apologetic look. "So she was the target after all?" She nodded out to the hall where the redhead lay, unconscious.

"Yeah..." I said, arms crossed. "Don't think she really knew what she'd gotten herself into. Great with tech though."

"Alright," Bobbi shrugged, pocketing the thumb drive she'd taken off the girl. "We'll take her back with us. Do the whole sweep, see if the buyer's close by."

"Something tells me he's not coming," I coughed. "Or if he did, he took one look at her and decided against it."

"They knew each other then?"

"Oh that's a long story," I shuddered. "I'm sure she'll fill you in completely when she wakes up.

Bobbi shook her head, heading out to message in the update to the team. She paused at the doorway and looked us both up and down with a raised eyebrow. "You two okay?"

"Look right as rain to me..." Hunter muttered from the corner.

Jemma and I glanced at each other. I couldn't help but smile. "Shut up Hunter," we said as one.

A/N: Fitz's Solo dance song: Lapdance by N.E.R.D