In case you've missed the memo, all characters belong to the good people over at Marvel and AoS and all written mistakes in this humdinger are mine. Thanks to those of you who are reading/have left a review! Means a lot J

Fitz walks into the bar with his head down and his eyes focused on his cell phone. He'd immediately agreed to his roommate's suggestion of a bar night, needing alcohol and Skye's infectious enthusiasm to make him forget about the day's earlier incident with Jemma. After leaving TeaTime he'd wandered aimlessly around the city for the rest of his lunch break before returning to the SHIELD post in front of SciTech and standing in a complete daze for the remainder of the day.

Skye had informed him via text, through the combined use of expletives and emojis, that she had somehow managed to snag some stools at the bar. That text had promptly been followed by a second that detailed all of the ways she would torture him if he didn't show up soon and use his, "impenetrable bubble of pessimism," to repel away the creeps that kept hitting on her.

The bar is more crowded than usual and Fitz has to squeeze himself through more than one overly affectionate couple before he spots Skye chatting animatedly to someone at the bar. He narrowly avoids being sandwiched in a chest-bump between two frat boys and the next time he looks up he sees Skye laughing and waving him over from where she's sitting.

Once he's a few feet away he can finally hear Skye over the loud din of the bar and he's not all that surprised to hear what the conversation seems to be focused on since it's her go-to drinking topic. "… agree it's totally ridiculous. In what world would that ever happen?! Leopold you idiot, come here and listen to two intelligent women totally disprove your dumb Dr. Who theory!"

Fitz rolls his eyes at his friend's antics and slows his approach as he processes her statement and notes the woman that is speaking to Skye. His steps falter for a moment as he observes what little he can see of the stranger and he immediately knows that he'll likely once again make a fool of himself in front of a beautiful woman today.

"God I've been all alone having this same argument for ages. I'm so glad that I finally have someone to back me up on…" Fitz tunes Skye out completely as he gets within reaching distance of the pair and finally realizes whom it is that his best friend is speaking to.

His mouth drops open in surprise as his eyes roam over her body, no longer covered by standard workplace cardigans and properly modest slacks. Instead she's in a pair of jeans that are so tight he worries they may actually be dangerous for her circulation, and a long-sleeve shirt that hugs her torso and leaves him feeling more than a little flustered.

"Jemma?!"

He watches Jemma jump at the sound of her name, whirling around to face him as she chokes on the beer that she'd just taken a swig of. Skye jumps too as the other woman is overcome by a sudden coughing fit, and she shoots Jemma a worried look while motioning for Fitz to do something to help.

He's not exactly sure that he's qualified to handle a situation like this and begins to awkwardly thump Jemma's back in the hope that it will be enough to get Skye to stop staring at him.

Fitz doesn't think he can really take any credit for it but Jemma's coughing doesn't last long, dying out in about a minute as she slowly sips from the glass of water that the bartender had brought over the minute he saw that the pretty girl in the form-fitting top was in need of assistance. Clearly the employee didn't think the awkward bloke thwacking Jemma on the back with a look of utter panic met the standard, "white knight," criteria. Fitz doesn't blame him.

Jemma wipes at the tears gathered in her eyes and it's only then that Fitz realizes his awkward pats had somehow transformed into him rubbing small circles on her back. He pulls his hand away quickly and shoves it in his pocket; ignoring the curious look that Skye is shooting him, and focuses on Jemma's widening eyes.

"Fitz?"

Skye's eyes are moving between the two of them in an astonished confusion and he internally groans at what he's sure will turn into a barrage of questions. "Wait, wait, wait. You know Fitz? How the hell do you know Fitz? No one knows Fitz!"

Fitz can see the intrigued gleam in his friend's eyes and decides that a hasty introduction is the best course of action in order to stop Skye's curiosity from overwhelming Jemma.

"Skye, Simmons. Simmons, Skye." He gestures quickly between the two women, not wanting to prolong their interaction, and leans across the bar with the assumption that Skye will follow their usual routine and use her feminine wiles to help his surly self get his hands on a beer. As is usually the case with the younger girl, his assumption is woefully off the mark and he instead is left waving down the bartender on his own while keeping his ears and eyes on the two women a few seats down.

Almost immediately he regrets his pathetic introduction because he watches as Skye's eyes narrow and then widen in delight as she puts two and two together. "Simmons? As in Jemma Simmons? As in SciTech Jemma Simmons? Oh man this is too great! Fitz never shuts up about you!"

Jemma quirks her head at this, glancing in his direction with a raised eyebrow and a curious expression on her face. There's a small storm behind her eyes and he hangs his head to avoid her stare, not wanting to be reminded of the fact that the last time they'd been together… he'd made her cry. Fitz can feel her eyes boring into him and does his best to keep his own gaze on the bartender that is still successfully ignoring him.

Jemma turns back towards the other girl and Fitz becomes increasingly worried about her and Skye being in the same place at once. "Oh really? Let me guess, he's told you all about how I'm the Devil reincarnated and am single-handedly responsible for all of the terrible things currently happening in the world."

She talks with an easy grin, the standard setting for most people that speak with Skye, but Fitz doesn't miss the way her hand nervously grips the near-empty beer bottle a little tighter and her back straightens as though bracing herself for a physical blow. He has a feeling that she's thinking of their last exchange and he wants to once again hang his head in shame and apologize profusely for making her believe his earlier words.

Instead he opts to let Skye do her thing, the thing that he had come to the bar for, and use her innate eagerness and charm to make Jemma forget whatever it was that had sent her to the bar. Fitz has a feeling that it was actually him that had driven Jemma to drink, so he keeps his distance and fidgets at the bar, watching as the pint meant for him is filled at an agonizingly slow pace ten feet away. He grows increasingly uneasy as he watches each ounce of the amber liquid flow into the glass stein.

His unease is mostly caused by the fact that he knows Skye enough to realize that she's already had enough to drink to go completely rogue on him and disregard her already nonexistent filter for the sake of girl talk.

"What? No!" Skye seems genuinely appalled by the other woman's question and Fitz wonders if she's noticed the same tension in Jemma that he has. "I mean he tried to once, maybe twice. But I'm pretty sure he said 'Satan's Mistress' not the Devil himself. If I'm being honest he always starts talking about how terrible your life choices are..."

Fitz starts gently hitting his head on the bar as he hears Skye mention his opinion on Jemma's life choices and wonders if this situation could truly get any worse.

"…but then he always ends up going on these weirdly descriptive tangents about how your nose scrunches up when you get irritated." Fitz's head lifts at this as his eyes begin to bug out of his head as he realizes exactly which direction Skye has decided to take this conversation.

He would have preferred route A: him as the pessimist who comes home after a long day and complains to his roommate about the unbearable woman that is intent on making his life difficult. Sure, he's become increasingly aware of the sick feeling he gets when he watches the flicker of hurt cross Jemma's face after a particularly harsh jab, but it fits the role he's taken. Skye, however, has clearly decided to choose option B, focusing instead on informing Jemma about drunk and slightly piney Fitz, who tends to lose the gruff persona and instead gets overly chatty and truthful.

"There was also a very detailed breakdown of how the angles of your eyebrows can indicate how you feel about a certain topic or situation…"

Fitz's eyes zero in on the way Jemma's fingers have suddenly stopped tapping against the glass bottle in her hands before flitting to the aforementioned eyebrows, which are raised high in surprise.

"…but I usually stop paying attention at that point, because honestly the calculations just get way too intricate for me. Like, hello! High school dropout here, I can't keep up with that shit! Anyways… Then he usually just talks about how you're a literal genius and how you're doing all this cool stuff with dindomoxin or something…"

Fitz's eyes widen with each word as his ears become filled with the erratic thudding of his own heart. He'd just lied and told Jemma that he thought that stuff was stupid and here's Skye, telling her the truth and making him look like an even bigger idiot than usual. He hastily pushes himself off the bar, ignoring the beer that finally appears at his side, and launches himself at his chatty friend in a desperate attempt to stop her from embarrassing him any further.

Fitz manages to get his free hand over Skye's mouth before she decides to also mention the rather explicit dream he'd drunkenly confessed to having a few days ago while she's spilling all of his Jemma-related secrets, but within two seconds he can feel her licking his palm and, though he tries to stand his ground for the sake of his own dignity, his hand doesn't remain stationary for long. After a particularly slobbery stroke of the tongue, he wrenches his hand away in disgust, wiping his palm on his jeans and glaring at Skye as he actively avoids Jemma's gaze.

Skye remains entirely unfazed, merely smirking at him before turning back to Jemma and hammering the last nail into the proverbial coffin. "Let me tell you Simmons, it sure is fun watching Fitz try to get rid of the heart eyes on his own."

"Skye!" He's not sure if the delivery of the name could be considered a hiss or a yell but he is certain that the emotion behind it is unmistakably a mixture of frustration and anger. With a fair bit of embarrassment as well.

"Oh relax Fitz, Jemma knows I'm just messing around, don't you Jemma?" Skye smiles placatingly at him and ruffles his hair in affection before turning back to Jemma with an easy grin. He can't help following her gaze and lets his own eyes flit towards Jemma for the first time since Hurricane Skye decided to be so utterly mortifying.

There's no way she could possibly believe that Skye was kidding because everything that the girl had said was information that was entirely specific to Jemma. The nose scrunching, the eyebrows, the dendrotoxin. Skye wouldn't have been able to make any of that stuff up, she'd have to have been told about it by someone else. And the only person who could have given her such details was Fitz.

He knows it, Skye knows it, and Jemma likely does too.

But there is an uncertain look on Jemma's face that gives Fitz a brief flicker of hope that his pride is in fact salvageable. He turns his body so that he is blocking Skye's frame from Jemma's gaze and focuses his mind on quickly coming up with a solution, or at the very least a distraction, for Skye's over sharing.

Fitz inhales sharply as he once again takes in Jemma's appearance and is able to fully process how different she looks in such a relaxed environment. Her eyes are a shade darker than usual, pupils blown wide in the dimly lit bar, but her lips are infinitely more alluring as they offset her blushing cheeks. He has to internally count to five before he deems himself calm enough to speak coherently, and he lets out a slow breath before he even attempts to speak. It takes one word to realize that counting to three wouldn't have sufficed, because he's barely able to babble out an intelligible sentence now.

"Never trust a drunk Skye, Dr. Simmons. She'll spread filthy lies to gain your confidence and then, next thing you know, she's tricked you into paying her bar tab."

He faintly hears Skye's, "God dammit Leopold, that was one time! Will you just let it go already?! I mean… come on…" but ignores it in favor of cataloging Jemma's reaction to his bumbling.

His fingers are crossed behind his back and he desperately hopes that: A. Skye will stop repeatedly flicking them and B. Jemma doesn't see through his pathetic attempt at hiding his growing feelings for her.

But then Fitz sees what he thinks is a brief flicker of disappointment cross her face, as though she might have actually wanted to believe the other woman, and he suddenly wonders what would have happened if he hadn't felt the need to deny Skye's words.

The look is so fleeting though that he wonders if he'd imagined it completely.

Jemma tilts her head and gazes at him as though he is one of her research projects, all furrowed brows and squinted eyes, and Fitz feels as though she is trying to solve whatever puzzle she thinks he is. He feels uncomfortable under her scrutiny, not because he minds being the subject of her attention, but because he's worried she might figure him out before he himself does.

There's a small frown on Jemma's face but Fitz chalks it up to her realizing she can't crack him and in an instant it's replaced by a very tentative smile and a brief tilt of the head. He feels his body relax immediately at her acceptance of his white flag. He's grateful to the universe that Jemma had already been drinking, with Skye no less, and was far more forgiving of him than she should be. She had every right to make him grovel at her feet but, evidently, a few minutes with Skye has made Jemma entirely to amiable.

Skye must notice the tension leave his body because within a second she's shoving Fitz aside and jumping at the chance to speak with Jemma again. "In all seriousness I really am excited to meet you. Fitz is a real pain in the ass and now I have someone to commiserate with!"

"You have someone to commiserate with?!" Fitz scoffs at Skye's statement before turning to audibly whisper conspiratorially in Jemma's general vicinity. "She didn't even watch the original Who, only started with the Eleventh Doctor because, and I quote, 'Matt Smith is an utter dreamboat.' Bloody ridiculous reason to watch a show."

Jemma lets out a loud laugh at this and Fitz is struck by how much he prefers making her smile than he does making her scowl.

"Oh Skye, for shame!" Jemma shoots Skye a scandalized look and places her hand over her heart in mock offense. Fitz grins, turning to Skye and opening his mouth to gloat in his ability to get Jemma to join his side when Simmons continues talking.

"Clearly if you're watching for the dreamboat factor, it's the Tenth Doctor you should start with."

Fitz snaps his mouth at this, turning towards Jemma with betrayal in his eyes and groaning as she shrugs and smirks at him before focusing her attention back towards Skye, who is latching on to the debate with gusto. "Tenth? Tenth?! Why on earth would you choose Tennant over Smith?!"

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for a Scottish accent." Jemma chuckles as the words leave her mouth but almost immediately her jaw drops open and her eyes widen. Fitz is too stunned to react but he watches with growing amusement, as Jemma seems to replay what she'd said, cheeks growing redder by the second and head shaking back and forth in denial.

"No, no, no… That's not… I didn't… I wasn't implying that… You… I don't… Not your Scottish accent…" At this point Skye is doubled over in laughter and Fitz himself is trying to hide his own grin behind his pint. He finds that he likes watching Jemma blush so he decides to prolong this moment as long as he can.

He makes his brogue as thick as he can and doesn't stop to question the forwardness of his teasing, instead letting the alcohol do his talking for him. "Are you saying you're interested in seeing my tartan Simmons? All you have to do is ask, I'm happy to oblige."

This draws out another burst of laughter from Skye, who is wheezing beside him and clutching her abdomen. Whether she's laughing at the ridiculous things he's said, how he's said them, or the situation in general he doesn't know, but he appreciates it none the less.

Jemma on the other hand is glaring at him; cheeks still a bright red, with a fiery glint in her eyes. "Oh shove off you complete and utter prat." There's not much bite to her words and her face is still rosy, so Fitz thinks it's safe to wiggle his eyebrows at her and lean against the bar in the utterly ridiculous, 'sexy-casual,' pose that he's seen so many men do.

Jemma's eyes narrow once more. "Bloody Scots…" She shoves Fitz's shoulder and turns to face Skye, "I've changed my mind. Eleven is the superior Doctor."

He and Skye both throw their heads back in laughter at this and Jemma rolls her eyes in exasperation. She proceeds to tilt her head back and knock off the rest of her beer with far more dignity than anyone else in her position would be able to pull off.

Fitz's own laughter dies down as he watches her swallow the amber liquid, leaving him with an easy grin and warmth that he knows has nothing to do with alcohol.

-O-

The remainder of the evening is spent with Fitz serving as both the metaphorical and physical punching bag for the two women as both try to outdo each other with ridiculous stories involving him. Skye has a full rolodex of embarrassing tales but Jemma holds her own, not sparing any details when mentioning her own interactions with him.

"…so after he barrels into me, I offer to help him, and he spends the entire walk unknowingly bashing me and my life's work." Skye's eyes widen and she gasps in an appropriately theatrical manner for someone who's had at least six drinks. "Stop! He did not!"

Jemma's had about four drinks herself and nods enthusiastically at Skye's response. "Yeah! Called me a soulless robot, said I was a waste of funds."

He has to physically duck out of the way to avoid Skye's hand as it comes flying towards his face. "Oy! Bloody hell woman, watch where you swing that thing!"

"Don't you 'bloody hell woman' me Fitz! You apologize to Simmons right now! Soulless robot. That's an awful thing to say to someone!" Skye glares at him across the booth that they'd managed to commandeer an hour ago and they quickly become locked in a staring contest.

"What is happening right now…" Jemma sips at her drink as she looks between the roommates with uncertainty.

"I'm defending your honor Simmons. Fitz is going to lose this staring contest, like he always does, and when the inevitable happens he's going to give you the apology you deserve." Skye's eyes don't so much as twitch throughout the monologue and Fitz knows that she's likely right about the predicted events.

"Oh please, that's really not necessary. He's said far worse things. That one barely phased me."

Jemma is wholly nonchalant with her comments but Fitz blinks as he registers the, "that one." His mind wanders back to the fiasco at lunch, the tears that she'd done her best to hide, and he feels her words echo in his head. Fitz turns towards Jemma and notes that she's distractedly, and slightly tipsily, drawing chemical symbols on the bar napkin lying on the table, seemingly unaware of how much she'd revealed and how much he'd picked up on.

Fitz doesn't need to hear Skye's, "You blinked," to know that an apology is coming from him whether Simmons expects one or not.

He doesn't want to startle Jemma too much so he decides to add some flair and a bit of levity. He slides across the booth until he can snatch the Sharpie from Jemma and grasp both of her hands in his own. She blinks up at him in surprise before she seems to realize what he's about to do and rolls her eyes.

"Jemma Simmons, Doctor, Doctor, Jemma Simmons. Please accept my sincerest apologies. While I may have reservations about the practices utilized by SciTech, you yourself are a sublime creature with a heart that is two sizes too big and an emotional span that robots and humans alike should envy."

He begins with the lightheartedness he'd initially been aiming for but as he looks into her eyes he finds himself becoming increasingly sincere, intent on making her understand that he regrets much of his behavior towards her. "I think you're the smartest person I've met in my life and I have no doubt that you're a true gift to science. You do what you do to help people and make the world a better place. I'm sorry if I've said or done anything to make you question that or yourself."

Jemma's mouth had fallen open during his speech and he swears her eyes are glimmering with moisture by the time he finishes. She blinks quickly, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, and squeezes his hands while giving him a timid smile. He barely hears her soft, "Thank you," before Skye is patting him on the back, jolting him out of his moment with Jemma, and saying, "That was beautiful. Now go buy us drinks."

Fitz quickly puts some space between himself and Jemma, dropping her hands and flexing his under the table in an attempt to get rid of the tingling sensation stemming from his fingertips. He coughs to clear his throat, shooting a glare at Skye who responds with a shrug and a fake look of innocence. "Drinks… right. Same thing?" He points between the downed pink concoction that sits in front of Skye and Jemma's beer bottle with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually, I think it's time for me to call it a night." Jemma scoots her way to the edge of the booth and Fitz finds that he is incredibly disappointed by the movement.

Apparently so is Skye.

"What?! No! Jemma please stay. I've only known you for a few hours but I feel as though I've been wrong about Fitz for years and it is actually you who are my true platonic soul mate." Skye is pouting her lips and giving Jemma the puppy dog eyes that always seem to get Fitz into trouble.

Jemma's much stronger than him though and stands up while draining the last of her drink. He does see her falter for a moment as she catches sight of the other girl, and Fitz decides to use the moment of weakness to throw his arm around Skye and put on his own puppy expression in an attempt to double-team her.

"Yeah Jemma. Don't go! You're our soul mate!"

The blush is instantaneous as Skye immediately falls across the booth in laughter while Fitz's head hits the table with an audible thud and he repeats the motion over and over. He can feel how red he is and groans at his inability to go five minutes without saying something stupid in front of Jemma.

When he picks his head back up Jemma is smiling down at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. Fitz opens his mouth to rectify his statement but she just shakes her head with a grin and waves her hand at him dismissively.

"As tempting as you two are, I really need to get going. Skye, I will gladly accept the role as your platonic soul mate, you have my number so call me anytime you need a break from this one... Fitz…" She briefly pauses to stare at him with a look that he can't quite decipher, "…same goes for you."

Jemma gives them one last smile, paired with an affectionate squeeze of Skye's shoulder, before turning around and getting lost in the crowd of the bar. Fitz gapes after her for a few minutes before turning to Skye, who's already staring at him and grinning maniacally.

"Did she just…"

"Yup."

"I didn't imagine…"

"Nope."

"Both of…"

"Yes."

"Skye?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Will you please give me Jemma's phone number?"

"Maybe… if you go get me another drink."