A/N: I am so very sorry that this chapter is so long overdue. At first I was just having issues with its flow and couldn't quite reconcile it. Then work got busy and I was just exhausted and so this poor chapter got put on the back burner. But I'm back and let me tell you, this chapter is practically a shadow of its former self. It got a massive overhaul about 2 weeks ago and a huge thank you goes out to Anytha84 who offered me some constructive feedback when I was stuck. If you haven't read her fics, go and do so! They're great.
Anyways, on with the long overdue chapter!
SAY SOMETHING
Once Jemma returns to their apartment she's at her computer, pulling up the S.H.I.E.L.D directory. She finds the number she's looking for but her hands shake while she dials and she has to hang up and try a second time.
The phone rings twice before a voice responds with "Deputy Director Maria Hill's office."
Jemma identifies herself and in no time is transferred through.
"Dr. Simmons, what can I help you with?" Deputy Director Hill's voice is icy, yet calm.
Jemma is momentarily panicked. "Agent Hill, I- er, that is-"
"Spit it out, Dr. Simmons."
"Right." She takes a deep breath and continues. "I've reconsidered your offer, Deputy Direct- I mean, Agent Hill," she says, stumbling over her words for a second time. "I'm sorry but I can't accept the job afterall."
"Dr. Simmons, I think you misunderstood me this afternoon," she replies curtly. "It wasn't an offer; you are being transferred. All mission teams require a medical official on board. It is an order."
"What?"
"The agent in charge of the mission is specifically requesting your transfer into the position on his team. He is aware of your partnership with Agent Fitz and has requested that an offer be extended to him as well. But, unlike yourself, he has a choice in the matter."
Jemma can feel her face blanche. "Oh."
"Is that all Dr. Simmons?"
"One last question," she says softly, afraid of the answer to what she's about to ask. "Protocol 8-6... that applies to my new position?"
Agent Hill sighs; it's clear that she's grown impatient. "Yes. It applies to all field agents and you will fall into that category."
"Right."
"Dr. Simmons is there something you'd like to tell me?"
Jemma swallows hard. "No!" She squeaks, her response unconvincing. "Nothing at all."
"Good," she retorts, suspicion in her voice. "Because if there is something going on between you and Agent Fitz and it's discovered while you're on assignment, both of your contracts with S.H.I.E.L.D. will be terminated. The rules are very explicit with regards to Protocol 8-6. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. Er, I mean, yes Agent Hill."
"Good. Your assessments schedule should be forwarded to you shortly." The phone disconnects abruptly, leaving Jemma stunned.
She sits on her bed, her mind racing. Her worst fears have been confirmed; she feels devastated. Fresh tears sting at her eyes. The image of Leo reaching for her haunts her as much as it sends her heart aflutter. She'd always thought they were just friends, that her feelings for him weren't reciprocated.
The front door to their apartment opens and she hears Leo's familiar tread as he makes his way down the hall. She calls out to him, but it's the slamming of his bedroom door that replies instead. She knows she has to explain her reaction, needs to make things right. They have to figure out the next step together.
...
Leo stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, his every thought occupied by the terrible mistake he's made.
He feels like a fool for having taken the chance; he's not entirely certain what had come over him. He'd initially hoped to ask her to dinner to celebrate their achievement. It would've been a simple request considering their friendship, but he'd wanted to make it clear: he'd hoped for the celebratory dinner to be a date.
He'd chosen the moment after their presentation to tell her; felt confident that he would succeed. The variables that his books had suggested to look for seemed to be in his favour.
Then he'd kissed her.
Upon reflection, Leo suspects it was her saying his name. He's wanted to hear his name on her lips for so long that when it finally happened, it was as though his body became possessed.
Somehow he'd misread it all.
The one thought that nicks at the back of his mind, the thought that stops him from fully believing he'd been wrong, is the realization that she'd kissed him back.
Jemma Simmons had pulled at his sweater, tucked herself against him and had batted her tongue against his own. It was a stirring reminder that shed the tiniest of light on the dark memory of her running from him in the auditorium.
His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door and he knows it can be only one person. His heart thumps against his chest and he remains silent, hoping that she'll think he's not home. It's a ridiculous thought as she must've heard him enter the apartment; he's not certain he's ready to confront the host of emotions that have bubbled to the surface.
"Fitz, please. I know you're in there. Can I come in?"
He sighs. He knows that he needs to deal with the fall out, but before he can answer, the door opens and Jemma enters his room.
"Can we talk?" She asks hesitantly, a shoebox clutched against her chest. He recognizes the faded ink against the brown cardboard, it's the same one he'd returned to her room well over a year ago. It's that same box that had given him the first indication that maybe they could be more than just friends.
Wordlessly he moves over on his bed, offering her the space next to him. She places the shoebox on his night table and lies down beside him, her shoulder just brushing his own.
"I'm so sorry," she says at last.
"There's nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who made the mistake. I ruined everything."
She shakes her head. "No, Fitz. You didn't. You didn't ruin a thing." Her hand wraps around his own, startling him. "Deputy Director Hill is transferring me."
He turns his head to face her, bile rising in his throat. "What?"
She nods, unable to face him. "A promotion. I'd be working on an elite team led by a Level 8 agent finding people who need help."
"You're leaving me?" His voice is barely a whisper. He's sick knowing what kissing her has cost him. "What have I done?"
"Oh God, Fitz! No!" Her hand tightens over his and she turns toward him. "She's offered you a job on the team as well. It's everything we've ever wanted," she says, encouragingly. "It's the perfect opportunity to see the world."
"I like our lab," he murmurs, turning to stare back at the ceiling.
"We'd be fools to pass it up, Fitz."
"I like our lab," he repeats.
There's a long pause as Jemma gathers her courage. At last she says, "I can't refuse. It's an order from Agent Hill."
Leo bolts upright and looks down at her. "What do you mean?"
Jemma closes her eyes, measuring herself. She sits up next to him. "Some Level 8 agent has requested us for his team. But because a medical doctor is mandatory for all missions, I've been ordered. I have to go."
"You can't!" He says, panic in his voice. "We're a team."
"Fitz." She shakes her head. "You know what I'm meant to do."
"So you're going to leave me then?"
"I want you to come with me. Take the job they're offering you." Her heart beats into her throat. "There's one thing though: if you accept the job, if you join me on the team..." Her face reddens and she looks down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes. "Protocol 8-6," she adds, simply. "It's why I left earlier."
"You left because of protocol 8-6?"
She nods, her teeth bite at the corner of her lip. "I wanted you to kiss me, Fitz. I've wanted it for so long. But if we go, if I go- we can't..."
Leo sucks in a deep breath, the events of the day suddenly clearer. "Oh."
She boldly reaches for his face and smoothes the stress wrinkles at his temples. He welcomes the gesture; it calms him. With his face in her hands she says, "Come with me, Fitz. I can't do this job without you."
In the years before he'd officially met Jemma at the Academy, he'd loved the solitude of his lab, would relish in the peace that it brought. It offered him protection; the crisp white concrete walls were the physical embodiment of the emotional ones he'd put up long ago. No one bothered him when he was working in the lab. His sketches would litter his desk until it was the bits and pieces of his newest creation. When those bits and pieces became an actual thing he would take it to some open space where he knew no one would bother him and test it. More times than not, it would work. And every time that his newest creation would fly, shoot, detect, protect or analyse he'd want to celebrate with someone.
But not just anyone. He wanted to celebrate with Jemma Simmons. The genius girl from Sheffield that had changed his life.
When they'd been assigned to each other those few years ago, he was afraid. Afraid that he could never match her, that she'd laugh at the creations that existed only in his mind, that she'd think his videos to be the rantings of a madman. But if she had, she hid it well. Her infectious smile supported his every idea and she encouraged him to bring alive his dreams. While the emotional walls he'd put up still existed, somehow along the way he'd let her inside them.
Now the only thing he fears is a life without her by his side.
"I can't," he says mostly to himself.
She nods, as though understanding his ramblings. "Think about it Fitz. I can't either. I can't do this without you." Jemma moves from the bed and heads into the hallway. "They start assessments tomorrow."
"You forgot-" He calls after her, motioning toward the box sitting on his night table.
"No." She says with a small smile. "It's time you read them. It's time you knew."
…
Leo is stunned by what he reads in the letters she's left him; letters that are directed to him.
Jemma had blown out her 13th birthday candles wishing for a friend who wouldn't judge her for her scientific abilities. He discovers that she, like him, had been ostracized by her classmates and had longed to be understood by those around her. She'd wanted nothing more than someone with whom she could just be herself. Her lunch breaks at school had been spent in the washroom, hiding from her classmates. They, she writes, would beg her for homework answers or tease her about her appearances in the local papers.
He learns that that wish made on her 13th birthday had come true a mere month after her mum had found her unconscious in her bedroom, a half spent bottle of paracetamol next to her on her bed.
Leo is floored to read that on the day they'd met, she'd promised her psychiatrist that she'd try to make new friends. The Science Fair, after all was to be filled with similarly minded kids. When Jemma had seen his 13 year old self, all pomp and surety, she knew they'd be fast friends. But then he'd walked off and disappeared into the crowd before giving his name.
She'd spent the next few days scouring the internet for news on a Scottish boy scientist that was bad at physics. Jemma's searches had come up empty and her depression and loneliness manifested anew. Her parents fretted, watching her every move until a package postmarked Glasgow arrived in the post.
While they'd never officially exchanged letters, his videos had made her feel like she'd had a friend, someone who could understand what it was like to be different. Someone, she writes, who wanted to push the boundaries of science like she did.
Hours pass quickly as Leo devours letter after letter. He reads of how she's sent to Cambridge at 15 and boards with flatmates who tease her, calling her Hermoine. It's a moniker she easily embraces now, he knows, but at the time it succeeded only in pushing her toward her old self. But with each of his videos she grew stronger, happier, more resilient. She had longed to see him again, thought that with him at her side, she'd be unstoppable; that her past could finally be behind her.
She writes of her excitement at being accepted into S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, thinks that at last she'll meet the elusive L.F. She knows, even before he probably did, that S.H.I.E.L.D would be foolish to turn him away as a student. His creations impress her and in a few envelopes he finds suggestions of how to further improve his work. Seventeen year old Jemma sends him into a fit of laughter, she's filled with pride; not just in herself, but in Leo.
All along it had felt like he was living on an island, isolated and different from those around him. In his own mind he's a disappointment to his mother, an outcast to his classmates and a fraud to Jemma.
He'd hidden so much from her over the years out of fear, pretending that he's something else, all because he'd thought she was perfect. Yet, all along, he'd been wrong.
She's just as flawed as he is.
Together, he thinks, they might just be perfect.
...
After tossing and turning for several hours, Jemma finally succumbs to sleep. She dreams of Leo telling her he won't go with her, is tortured by the possible reality that he'll leave her. Without her friend at her side, her dream self fails to complete the simplest tasks and her eyes flick to her lock up where she knows deadly chemicals sit. She's struggling with the combination door when she's awoken with a start to the light of her room being thrown on. She blinks away the blindness and finds Leo in her doorway.
"My mother is a seamstress," he says, his voice panicked, clutching the stack of letters.
"What?"
"My mam is a seamstress," he repeats quicker, pacing her room. "She could barely afford our rent when I was growing up. I had to sell most of my creations just to help her out. My da', y'see, he died in an explosion at A.I.M Glasgow when I was barely 8 years old. They never found his body. I have nightmares that he's still alive creating some super villain that kills everyone I love." He swallows hard. "Including you."
Jemma is now sitting upright, her feet on the floor of her bedroom. She stares at Leo, speechless and stunned by his sudden confessions.
"Back in Scotland, I had the lowest maths scores in the whole damn school. That's why you couldn't find me; they were going to put me in a remedial program. They were ready to kick me out of the school but then my mam brought me to London, told me I'd get to see adamantium." He pauses. "She wanted me to meet you. Had read about you in the local papers."
"Leo-"
"Let me finish. That day that we met and you gave me those calculations, gave me that sample of adamantium. It changed my life. You changed my life." He places the stack on the bed next to her. "For every video I sent you I made goal for myself. Pass maths, understand physics, pass my GCSEs, go to M.I.T., get accepted into the Academy... See you again."
Jemma rises to her feet. "Oh Leo… I- I didn't know."
He gives a sheepish smile. "Why would you? What did I tell you about myself? That I liked working with my hands? That I hated doing laundry? That everyone called me Fitz?" He chuckles.
"What?"
He shakes his head. "The point is, Jemma Simmons, I'd follow you to the ends of the earth. In your letters you said that I made you feel not so alone; the truth is that it's you that saved me from loneliness. You've saved me in more ways than I can even count. If you've got to take that job, I will too."
"But what about Protocol 8-6?"
"We'll figure it out. We always do; their contracts are only for a year at a time anyway. Besides," he says with a laugh. "Maybe we'll fail our assessments."
"Fitz," Jemma says, narrowing her eyes. "We've never failed at anything before."
Leo bobbles his head. "Well, there's always a first." His face breaks out in a grin. "Think about it. There's a remote possibility that we'll be so terrible they won't want us." He shrugs, his face reddening. "I did the math earlier. It is entirely possible. Remote, yes. But possible."
"And if we don't fail, we're agreed: one year, then?" She asks.
He nods. "One year."
She throws her arms around his neck, her smile wide against his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her back. He thinks he could stay like this forever. Jemma surprises him when she pushes up on the balls of her bare feet and leans into him. Her lips, when they press against his, are soft and he can already feel his body reacting. Leo deepens the kiss and her back arches into him and he tightens his hold on her. Jemma's fingers slink into his hair and he wonders if there is any better feeling than her in his arms.
This time, when she pulls her mouth away, her arms stay wrapped around his torso. She rests her head against his chest and listens to his heart beat. It's quick and steady and she knows that no matter what, with Leo she'll always be safe and at home.
"I just want you to be happy," she whispers at last.
And he is. More than she could ever know.
...To be continued...
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