Fitz and Jemma spent the first 30 minutes of their drive in silence, just listening to the sounds coming through their comms. Skye lecturing Trip and Lance while she tried to work out a plan to get them out. Lance making sarcastic comments as it sounded like he knocked a few heads into walls. The fire alarm blaring. Trip was relatively quiet though - no quips or conversation with Ward - just a few grunts and plenty of background noise. He was clearly going head to head with the other man on his own.
"Hi, excuse me," Skye's voice came through, sweet as maple syrup over the comms. "This guy hit on me at the conference on the second floor, and I said no, and he's threatening to hurt my boyfriend. Could you send security to find him?"
"Ma'am, all guests are being evacuated. Do you not hear the fire alarms?"
Fitz gripped the steering wheel so tightly, he worried he might pull it right off.
"Skye…" Trip's voice had a warning tone to it.
"Skye what?" Ward asked.
Fitz sped by a gas station and hoped they'd see another one before they came on another stretch of highway. He was trying to focus on the good, and not the sound of things falling apart behind him: they had the merchandise that their clients wanted back, and they had enough extra to frame Ward for grand larceny on top of that.
"Bloody morons," Lance griped. "Not even decent thugs."
Fitz allowed a smirk at that, and it grew when Jemma let out something of a gasping laugh.
"Skye's moved on," Trip said. "You should too."
A series of crunches and cracks followed that made Fitz wince. It was entirely possible that one of his friends just had one of their bones snapped in half.
"Is that all you got?"
Another loud crack and a few crunching sounds, like wood splintering, could be heard, and then static cut in.
"Lance? Did you make it to Trip?" Jemma asked over the sounds of the tires on the highway. She didn't get an answer.
"We're out of range," Fitz whispered as he looked down at the GPS system. Next to him, Jemma's breathing sped up as she made an effort to suck in air, but Fitz recognized an impending panic attack when he heard one. He'd had enough of them growing up to know.
"Jemma, you hafta calm down. I need you - I can't - Jemma - count to five in. And then out." He whipped his head to the side to look at her, and she nodded, sucking in a deep breath of air and letting it out.
"It's fine," she gasped. "I'm fine."
-o-
When they pulled into a space at the rest stop, there were only a few other cars in the parking lot. Jemma had her earbud in her hand, rolling it between her fingers while she stared out. The sun had set, and Fitz watched her as he cut the engine.
"They're goin' to be fine."
"Yes."
"We wait for another two hours and fifty-six minutes."
"I know."
Fitz sighed when Jemma dropped the earbud into the center console and leaned back in her seat. There were streaks on her face where she had been silently crying during part of the trip, and Fitz scrubbed at his own cheeks to make similar marks vanish. He was sure his eyes were red rimmed and glassy, but that could be attributed to a long drive. No one would question that.
"Jemma? Stay in the car, okay?"
"What?" She turned, eyes wide, body taught in alarm. "Where are you going?"
"We're goin' to need caffeine. I'm goin' in to pick up a few things, yeah? I'll be right back."
She nodded uncertainly, then reached up and pulled the visor he was still wearing from his head, tossing it in his lap, before removing her own, along with the jacket. "Get rid of them," she whispered hoarsely.
"Yeah, okay."
She scrambled to turn around in her seat, reaching into the back for a bag, any bag, to put them in. Fitz stilled her movements with a hand on her arm and gently pulled her back into her seat. He leaned between the seats and reached under the front of the passenger side, only realizing once he emerged with a plastic garbage bag that Skye had stuck there in case of emergency that it might have made an odd picture to anyone who happened to walk by. He hoped the windows were tinted enough. They didn't want anyone paying attention to them if they were going to be there for another two hours.
He glanced up at her face again, but she was sitting back in her seat, hands in her lap, staring out the window. Fitz tried to follow her gaze, but all he saw were the passing headlights.
"I'll be right back. I promise. Okay?"
Jemma nodded.
He shucked his jacket and piled everything into the bag, tying the end in a knot, and climbing out of the car. He leaned back in to remove his keys from the ignition and slip them in his pocket. He didn't think Jemma would leave him stranded at a rest stop - she had been the one who kept going so they could leave - but he thought it best to err on the side of caution.
"Fitz?"
"Yeah?"
"I want chocolate," she told him, her face still sad, but her eyes fierce. "Lance always used to tell me it made everything better when we were kids."
"Chocolate, yeah. Can't say I disagree with him there." Fitz nodded quickly. "I can do that."
Shutting the door to the car, Fitz ambled up the sidewalk, trying to look like someone on a road trip who just needed to stretch his legs for a while. That's all this was, he told himself, a couple on a road trip. They were most definitely not two members of a five-person team of criminals. That would be ridiculous.
When he made his way up to the building at the heart of the rest stop, he was expecting grimy tiled floors and trash littering the floor. His experience with East Coast stops on the highway had led him to believe that no one manned these places, but there was a woman sweeping up straw wrappers from the sidewalk, a couple of fast food places, a little convenience store, and vending machines. Clearly, this place catered to the drivers heading to Vegas from the west. He stood in the middle of the space after dropping his bag in a garbage bin and watched a woman doling out burgers and fries to three impatient children. He debated heading into the convenience store for prepackaged food or over to the burger joint for something a little more filling. Jemma might be too nervous to eat, but his nerves alway made him triple his calorie content.
He decided on both.
He nodded at the clerk in the convenience store who was seated at the counter flipping through a magazine as he walked by a display of maps. He grabbed a road atlas for the west coast, just in case. You never knew when your GPS was going to go out, and they didn't have a phone. Remembering that Skye in fact had his phone, he quickly nabbed one of the pay-as-you-go set ups from next to the counter, and then the biggest bag of M&Ms the place had. He pulled a couple of bottles of water from the cooler for good measure.
He tossed everything onto the counter and waited expectantly. He probably could have easily stolen everything he'd picked up, but at this point, he thought it was better to be safe than sorry. He didn't want to get nabbed by a highway patrol officer because he stole $50 worth of crap from a rest stop.
"Anything else you're lookin' for?" The woman behind the counter asked as she dropped her magazine to the side and scanned his purchases.
"Erm. Don't think so." But he threw a pack of gum on top anyway. "Pretty quiet around here?" He tried to keep his voice as flatly American as possible. He was a little out of practice, and it was always good to be careful.
She tossed each item into a plastic bag as she scanned. "Yep. Not a big travel week, I guess."
Fitz nodded politely, then handed her a pair of crumpled up fifties from his pants pocket. He usually prefered one of the fake credit cards he or Skye had created, but emergency cash meant no paper trail. The woman raised an eyebrow at the cash, but Fitz just smiled as she counted back his change.
Carrying the plastic bag with him through the building, he saw a few large trucks pull into the front, men in boots and ball caps dropping down from their high cabs and lobbing jokes at one another as they took a break from their delivery routes. He kept walking toward the smell of burgers and fries, realizing the place's logo was a little green frog.
"Burger Frog? Tha' seems like the worst name for a fastfood place," he muttered to himself as he walked up to the counter. Their menu was standard American fast food though, so he couldn't complain too much. He ordered two large meals and a chocolate shake for Jemma before being told to have a "hoppin' good time in Nevada."
He shook his head and carefully balanced his purchases in his arms as he made his way back to the car where he didn't find Jemma waiting as he'd instructed. Instead, she was sitting at a picnic table in front of it, her face illuminated by the glow of the orange lights in the lot.
"I thought I told you to -"
"Stay in the car, yes, you did." Jemma rolled her eyes. "I wanted some air." She leaned forward and pulled two of the cups from his hands so he could set everything on the table. "It smells like you just exited a grease fire."
"Burgers and chips," he told her coolly before handing her the other cup. "And a chocolate shake for you." The way she smiled her thanks at him made his heart skip a few beats, like one of those cheesy pop songs you always heard on the radio. He pulled a burger from the bag and handed it to her. She looked skeptical, but he just kept waving it in front of her until she took it, unwrapping it and taking a small bite with a shrug. He removed the second and began unwrapping the paper. "Got us a phone too." He took a larger than necessary bite of the burger, savoring the taste of beef and cheese and pickle for a moment before rapidly chewing and swallowing. "See if we can get ahold of anyone."
"Oh, good thinking!" She twisted to look over her shoulder. "They sell phones here? Or did you lift someone's?"
"Bought a burner. Seemed better than having a name attached to one. Just in case we get Grant."
Jemma abruptly set her burger back down on the paper and nodded her head. "Right." She stabbed a straw into her shake. "That is a possibility." She took a long pull from the shake before swallowing and taking a deep breath. "How long do we wait before we call?"
Fitz dug back into the bag and handed her a container of fries, but she shook her head, so he set them on his own wrapper, then reached into the other bag for the phone. The phone that was wrapped in nearly impenetrable plastic, as he discovered after trying to find a way to separate it for nearly ten minutes between bites of his burger and handfuls of fries.
He was red to the tips of his ears when he tried to use a fingernail to edge the corner of the plastic apart, only to drop the whole thing on the table and have to catch his soda from toppling off the edge. It was worth the frustration though since it was enough to make Jemma laugh at his predicament.
When she held out her hand to take the package from him, he noted with something akin to delight that she'd actually eaten most of her burger. It was more than he expected from the fear that had been etched into her face for most of the drive. She placed the package down in front of her and half stood from the bench to reach into one of her pockets, searching for something. When she came up with a capped portable screwdriver, Fitz nearly smacked his own forehead in annoyance. His bag with their tools in it was in the car; he could have just run to get it. He demolished the rest of his burger and both sets of fries while Jemma very carefully worked the point of the screwdriver between the pieces of plastic in the corner that Fitz had tried so hard to pull apart. It only took her a few moments, but eventually, she was able to work into the gap between the spaces and pull the packaging open with a hard thwop.
Fitz wordlessly picked up their trash and walked it to a bin while Jemma activated the phone. As he walked back to her though, he saw a man who pulled up in a sedan eying her suspiciously. With her hair pulled back, her dark clothing, and her having a screwdriver and a burner phone in plain view, he realized that they might not look the most inconspicuous. Anyone who had seen an action movie was probably going to think they were up to no good.
"Jemma," he whispered as he came up behind her at the bench, his hand hovering over her back. "Do we have any clothes in the car?"
"I think there are a few things in the back, why?" Her head was bent over the phone, keying in the code on the package.
"We're all in black, at night, with a burner phone, in the middle of nowhere, an' I paid in cash, an' you jus' opened tha' with a screwdriver."
"I think you're being paranoid." She looked up at him with a smile. But a man on the way back to his car with his son gave them a double take and her smile fell. "But you may have a point." She sighed. "Let's go back to the car for now."
Fitz expected her to climb into the front seat with him when they got there, but instead, she opened one of the back doors and slid inside once he was already half into the driver's seat.
"What're you doin' back there?" He twisted around, trying to see her.
"I'm looking to see what kind of clothes you have back here while you call Skye. I don't know anyone's number by heart." She huffed. "And I don't think we're going to want to sit in the car for another…" She reached forward and grabbed his arm to see what time it was. "... two hours and seven minutes."
"Oh. Erm. Okay." Fitz turned back around in his seat as she pulled up a duffel bag, unzipped it, and began rooting around in it. He flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror after punching in Skye's number, only to see Jemma lifting a pair of boxers with a colorful monkey print on them out of the bag curiously. "Yeah, maybe don't put those on…"
She laughed. "I forgot that none of my clothes are in here. Everything is yours."
"You can have anything you want."
"But not these?"
She blinked innocently at him as she waved the boxers in his direction, and he couldn't help but picture her in them. Having seen her in a towel already, he could pretty well imagine the rest. He just shrugged helplessly and hit the call button on the phone. She laughed again before going back to looking through his clothes, and he was glad she had the distraction because Skye's number gave him a "this wireless customer is not currently available" message. He disconnected and tried Trip's instead, flicking his eyes up after dialing to see Jemma pulling out one of his white undershirts and nodding in approval. Trip's number gave him the same message and he breathed out harshly, dialing Lance's number next. He made the mistake of glancing up again as he put the phone to his ear to see Jemma whip off her black tee, revealing a plain white sports bra and lots of pale skin before she pulled his white shirt over her head. He bit down hard on his lip and closed his eyes, listening to the ringing.
-o-
Jemma made a concentrated effort to not pay any attention to the fact that Fitz was sitting in the front seat when she changed her top. She also made equal effort to not lift the fabric of the shirt to her face and inhale. As she had shrugged into it, Fitz's scent had hit her full force, which was ridiculous because everything in the bag was obviously clean clothing. She was almost certain that it was the psychological effect of going through his clothes. She reached down and awkwardly unbuckled her belt and undid the top button of her pants so she could tuck the shirt in, listening to Fitz's quickened breathing in the front seat.
"Lance!" He said suddenly, stopping her from thinking about the fact that he was watching her change. "Thank God your phone is workin'... I tried to call Skye and Trip to check on them." He hesitated, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. "I heard you were takin' a vacation and uh, I jus' wanted to see how you were. Jennifer an' I are…" His eyes widened comically as he looked to Jemma for help, and she realized a little too late that he had gotten voicemail. She reached a hand out to take the phone from him.
"We're doing so, so, good," Jemma gushed, transferring her voice to the one she had been using when manning the phones for Bakshi's company. "But I really wanted to meet Fitzy's friends! We both lost our phones on our road trip, so call us back at this number when you get this. We're only going to be in town for a couple of hours!" She hung up quickly before she said anything that could lead anyone they didn't want to their location. She thrust the phone back into his hands and he dropped it into the cup holder. She hoped that if they were in trouble, no one had actually found their phones in Skye's tech equipment. If they had, keeping up her cover was moot at this point.
"You find somethin' for me to wear?" Fitz asked her, breaking the silence that had descended over them a few minutes later.
"Oh! Um… yeah." Jemma shifted in her seat, pulling something out of the bag at random and shoving it in his direction.
She watched as Fitz looked back and forth, as though he was making sure no one was walking by the car, before he pulled the black tee he was wearing over his head and dropped it behind his seat, only revealing another black undershirt covering him up. It was a bit unfair that he'd seen so much and she got to see so little. She rolled her eyes a bit and grabbed it, folding it carefully and placing it on top of her own on the cushioned seat. What he pulled on was a wrinkled light blue button down, and he made a dissatisfied sound at the back of his throat as he set about buttoning it up.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Your options are a little bit limited," Jemma informed him. "You only have a few things in here. Is this like… your emergency bag?"
"Yeah, basically. In case I hafta run." He shrugged as his fingers climbed up the buttons. "We all have one."
Jemma filed that information away for future reference. She'd never kept a go-bag before. She should definitely start.
-o-
An hour went by in which they sat in the car and chatted about everything and nothing. Fitz recounted scrapes that he deemed worse that both Trip and Lance had managed to get out of.
"You're pulling my leg," Jemma decided, her legs actually stretched out across the back seat while she leaned back, using his duffel bag as a pillow against the door.
"Nope."
"There's no way Lance talked himself out of a military base. His American accents are horrible."
Fitz chuckled and turned his head to look at her from where he was leaning the driver's seat back just enough to get comfortable.
"What is that look for?" She demanded. "Are you trying to tell me mine are worse?" Fitz shook his head quickly, but he was still smiling. Jemma narrowed her eyes at him and then proceeded to name various regions throughout the states and imitate their accents. When she had made her way through a dozen, Fitz was nearly shaking with repressed laughter. She huffed.
"Please, never try to do Texas again!" He gasped, trying to catch his breath as he started laughing.
"Ugh. Fine!" She nudged him gently in the shoulder with her foot, her shoes discarded somewhere on the floor. "I can admit that you have a better handle on accents." He smiled smugly, and she rolled her eyes in response, but didn't remove her foot from the edge of his seatback. "It seems only fair. You have been doing this longer than I have."
"True." She watched him, his face shifting as though he'd just had a brilliant idea. "Did you really wan' to learn how to lift hairclips?"
Jemma colored slightly, glad he couldn't see it in the near darkness the back of the car provided her with. "I just… liked watching you. I've never seen anyone that good at it before." She stopped just short of telling him that his hands were amazing, though she very much wanted to see the expression on his face when she did.
He shifted slightly in his seat, the orange of the street light falling over his face as he moved.
"Oh."
He chewed on his bottom lip in thought and Jemma sat up fully, bringing her hands up to remove the elastic of her ponytail, wanting something to do again. All of this talking to Fitz was great, but she had the fear that they were never going to see their friends again at the back of her mind, and all of the ways she'd really like to forget about their problems were not appropriate for a rest stop parking lot. She suspected Fitz might be thinking something along the same lines as a silly smile rested on his face while she ran her fingers through her hair, even shaking it out a bit to make it look normal after being up all evening. She was very tempted to tell him to move the car to a more secluded parking spot.
"Fitz?"
"Hmm?"
"When this is done -"
The phone in the cupholder rang, cutting her off and she sucked in a breath. She dropped her foot from Fitz's seat, hooking her toes on the underside of the seatback and scooting forward so that she was sitting in between the two front seats as he shot up and reached for the phone.
"It's Lance's number," he told her as he looked at the display.
"Answer it." She motioned impatiently, despite feeling like her step brother, yet again, had crap timing.
"What if it's Grant?"
"Then we'll know what we're up against, won't we?"
She pretended not to be nervous, giving him a tight smile, but her hands were curled into fists in her lap as he answered the phone. His brows were drawn tight, his jaw working as he brought the phone up to his ear.
"Hello?"
Jemma watched as his muscles instantly relaxed and he tapped the ceiling of the car with his hand in lieu of a victory fist pump. She was almost certain that's what he would have done if he was alone.
"Yeah. Yeah."
His one word answers weren't really giving her any idea of what was actually happening though, and she didn't like that. Not one bit. Especially considering just how he had sobered up when he began listening.
-o-
Fitz kept his face carefully expressionless as Skye, not Lance, spoke hurriedly on the other end.
"I'm draining my Daisy Johnson bank account to bail Lance and Trip out. But I won't be able to get them out of jail until the morning. I've got all my I.D.s as their lawyer. Grant and Bakshi are on the run."
"Yeah. Okay."
"Jemma's right there, isn't she?"
"Yep." Fitz popped the ending 'p' like he had been chewing bubble gum.
"Okay, listen: And don't let her know that something's up, but I also talked to the Mockingbird after the police were done questioning me about the supposed brawl I was involved in. Kara isn't the only member of her group that's gone rogue lately. She's seen a lot of information leak to other people about old jobs. I trust Jemma, but Mockingbird said she's not sure how deep it goes."
Fitz looked out the window instead of over at Jemma, watching a van pull into a parking space and several teenagers pile out of it. "So, wha' do you want us to do?" He had a feeling he knew where this was going and he didn't like it.
"Split up."
"I don't-"
"Listen. You guys are going to give the clients their merchandise back." Skye took a breath on the other side. "Here's what you're going to tell Jemma until I can check everything out."
-o-
Jemma narrowed her eyes in suspicion when Fitz disconnected from the call. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before turning to look at her. And when he started talking, he was staring at a point in the middle of her forehead, not in her eyes. It didn't take a con artist to know that something wasn't right.
"There was a complication with Trip an' Lance."
"What kind?"
"They got arrested for fightin'."
"What?"
"Skye's sortin' it out, but she wants us to go ahead. Where's your client? I can drop you off at an airport or a bus station if you need me to? And then I'm goin' to head to ours."
Jemma pursed her lips together and nodded. There was most definitely something that Fitz wasn't telling her, and she didn't know why, but apparently Skye didn't want them to keep traveling together. That didn't bode well.
"And after that?"
"Skye said to give it sixty days for her plan to frame Grant to go ahead. After that, she'll tell us all where to meet up."
Jemma hadn't known Fitz very long, a few weeks, but she knew that the tone he was using was not his normal Fitz tone. It wasn't his undercover tone or his long con tone or any of the other personas she'd seen him try on. It was more like the tone he took when he didn't want to talk about something. She'd most often heard it aimed at Lance before, and she wasn't sure why he was using it on her.
"Okay."
She didn't know what else to say beyond that.
Fitz reached down to the side of his seat and hit the button to bring the back upright again. "Do you - erm - need to use the facilities?"
"No." Jemma reached over and opened the door though, climbing out of the car, and taking a breath of the cool night air. A dozen different things went through her mind as she tried to figure out what he was hiding from her as she slammed the door shut and opened the front seat instead. Climbing inside and shutting the door, she buckled her seatbelt and sat stiffly until Fitz turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking space.
"Where am I goin'?" He asked as he reentered the highway.
"Apparently, the closest bus station," she informed him crossly. She knew she sounded petulant, but she didn't care. The way Fitz was acting was a complete about-face, and she wasn't sure what to do with it. The awkwardly flirting Fitz was gone and replaced by someone else and it was very confusing.
"Jemma, I -"
"Just drive, Fitz."
-o-
When they reached the bus station, Jemma sat very still in the passenger seat of the car, arms crossed over her chest. She had tried to ask him questions as they drove, but Fitz didn't give her any real answers. She jumped when he reached across her for the glove compartment, but he didn't touch her, instead popping it open and pulling out what looked like a cosmetic case. He unzipped it and shook the contents into her lap before placing the case back in the compartment.
"For - for the ticket - or anythin' else you need."
"I don't need your money, Fitz." Her eyes burned at the thought. This was all entirely different from how she expected their night to go.
"It's no' like that."
"Then what's it like?" Jemma turned in her seat, her hands gripping the armrest between them. "I thought we made a good team. It doesn't - how is it safer to split up? What aren't you telling me?"
"Please, Jemma." He shook his head helplessly.
"Ugh." She grabbed the bills and crumpled them up in one hand as she unlocked her seatbelt and climbed back out of the car, heading for the trunk, stuffing the money in one of her pockets as she went. Fitz popped the trunk open from the controls before she even got there, but he was at her side before she could unzip the bag with all of the stolen merchandise in it.
"You should take a couple o' things, you know, since there's no real payment for the job."
"Oh, how generous of you, Fitz," she muttered sarcastically. "Cash and a present."
Despite her sarcasm, her mind flashed to the antique hair combs she had wrapped and placed in one of her loose cargo pockets earlier. She hadn't added those to the bag when they had emptied their pockets, and she figured what Fitz didn't know wouldn't hurt him at this point. She grabbed the box with all three of the cat figurines carved out of jade before realizing she didn't have a bag. Fitz seemed to have anticipated that though, showing her his previously full duffel that now only held a handful of items. She slipped the box inside, then grabbed the document tube and put that in as well, zipping it all up with a harsh yank.
"Okay. I guess we're done," she snapped, turning away.
"Jemma, wait." She tried to shake off his hand when he reached for her, but she didn't really want to walk away from him, so she turned around to see his eyes, bluer than she'd ever seen them, holding his gaze while she waited. It was probably much easier to get her attention than he expected considering the way his mouth popped open and closed in surprise. A small part of her was ready to yell at him again, but a much larger part of her just wanted to beg him to not make her go alone.
She held up her hands in a what now gesture as his fingers slid down her arm where he'd grabbed onto her elbow. When they reached the palm of her hand, he pressed harder into her skin.
"It's just a precaution," Fitz whispered, stepping in close to her personal space. "I will see you once Skye's plan is done. Just a couple o' months, yeah?"
"A lot can happen in a couple of months," Jemma whispered back as people milled about outside of the tiny bus station. "Maybe you'll forget all about me." Her throat started to close off at the very thought. She liked Fitz. She didn't want this to be it. She wanted to find out just how much she liked him.
"Not possible."
The anger she was holding onto shifted a bit at that, and she found the corners of her mouth starting to turn up in a smile. When he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, she turned her head so that he got one of those upturned corners of her mouth instead, her breath catching in her throat and her heart pounding from that innocent brush of lips that could have meant absolutely nothing if it was anyone other than Fitz. But it was Fitz, and she tried to take a step closer to him as he pulled back and started to turn away.
"I'll see you soon, Jemma."
"No, wait!" When he turned and sighed, opening his mouth to undoubtedly tell her that he couldn't, she shook her head. "Just, one thing." She took another step, and then another, until they were only a breath apart. "Before you go." Grabbing on to the fabric of his shirt with one hand to keep him in place, she looked him in the eye and slowly reached up, placing her other hand on the back of his neck. The duffel bumped awkwardly into her side as she surged forward and up on her toes, but she ignored it in favor of placing her lips squarely over his, no cheeks or corner-of-the-mouth for her this time. That just wasn't enough.
She had intended for the kiss to be soft and sweet, a promise of what was to come when they met up again, but as soon as his lips touched hers, that wasn't enough either, and she found him parting his lips against hers much sooner than she had anticipated, but she took his opening greedily, tasting chocolate and fizzy drinks and Fitz and how was she supposed to walk away from him? Fingers curling into his shirt tighter than was necessary since his own hands had grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him, she just wanted more. She tried to slide her lips against his carefully, slowing herself down, but it was nearly impossible, her teeth scraping along his lips when he started to pull away.
"Jemma," he whispered against her lips, "I hafta -"
"I know." She placed one more lingering kiss on him for good measure. "But don't forget to come find me."
He gave an undignified snort and she grinned.
"The second Skye gives the okay, I'll find you."
She swallowed down her disappointment at having to leave and pulled herself away from him. "See you soon, Fitz."
-o-
