Drabble 3: Cuffed, Part One

Thanks to Spitfire303 for this idea. I hope you like it! Keep submitting ideas and reviewing!

Jemma walked into the new lab area with a determined stride. Fitz was sitting at his desk and working on his computer. Mack wasn't anywhere in sight, which was exactly what she had been hoping for.

"Fitz." She said softly.

"I'm not in the mood to talk right now, Simmons." He said without looking up.

She looked down. "Please." She hated how weak her voice sounded, but they hadn't talked to each other in days since she got back. She missed him.

"Come on, Fitz." She placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "You can't stay mad at me forever."

He shrugged off her hand and looked up from the computer. "I can try, can't I?"

She was shocked at his tone. Before she could stop herself she let her emotions get the better of herself, and groaned in frustration. "No, Fitz, you can't! I didn't do anything wrong!"

He stood up, anger flashing in his eyes. "You left!" he yelled. "You walked away from the team, from me, and now you want to act as though nothing has changed! I've changed, Jemma!"

She felt tears spring to her eyes and forcibly blinked them back. Fitz was regaining his breath, and he looked a bit sorry for his outburst, but she could see the relief he felt at finally saying something.

He looked down.

"How are we going to get past this, Fitz?" she asked.

He shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know Jemma."

Then Coulson ran in. "What's going on?" he asked. "I heard Fitz yell."

Fitz let the emotion drain from his face. "Nothing important, sir."

Simmons didn't meet his eyes, and Coulson sighed. "When are you two going to get along?"

Neither of them answered, but Simmons glanced hopefully at Fitz before sadly looking down again.

"I see." Coulson said. "Well, it's been too long for this. The team needs you two to be alright again. We need some good with all the trouble we've had lately." He thought for a minute. "I'll be right back."

He walked out and Fitz walked up to Simmons. "I want to be alright again too, but I can't." he said softly. "I don't know why, but I'm trying."

She squeezed his hand once as both relief and pain coursed through her. "I know, Fitz. I know."

He stepped back, and then Coulson appeared again. He walked over and grabbed Fitz's hand, pulling his sleeve to expose his wrist. A second later something metal glinted, and a click was heard.

"What are you doing?" Fitz asked.

Coulson grabbed Simmons by the arm and pulled her closer, fastening the other part on her wrist. "I'm handcuffing you two. It's old-school, but you can't mess with the classics. Now sort your relationship out, and come get me when you can be together without fighting."

"But sir-."

"How do you know we won't just free ourselves?" Fitz asked.

Coulson smiled. "So glad you reminded me, Fitz. He pulled out a small remote and pressed a button. Simmons felt weight increase on her wrist momentarily, the cuff seeming tighter. She saw that Fitz felt it too. "I won't go into the science of it." He winked at them. "I'll leave that to you two. But you won't be able to break them now." He threw it up and caught it in one hand. "Nifty, right?"

He got a sincere look in his eyes again. "I just want you to get along. Whatever it takes." He turned and walked out of the lab.

Simmons looked down at their connected wrists. "What do we do now?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

He woke up and immediately groaned as he felt his head throb. There was dim light coming from the ceiling, and it made him squint. He tried to sit up and found he couldn't. His wrist was stuck. He looked at it and his eyes widened, despite the brightness.

"Jemma." He said. She was next to him, slumped to the floor with her arm extended towards him, their wrists joined by handcuffs. He leaned closer to her and felt her forehead. "Jemma, wake up." He whispered.

She opened her eyes slowly and smiled slightly when she saw him. Then she grimaced in pain. "What happened?"

He helped her sit up. It was awkward because of the handcuffs, but they managed it. His eyes adjusted to the light and he took in their surroundings. They were in a small room with a white-tiled ceiling and a smooth gray floor. There was a water bottle by the sliding door on the other side of the room, and Fitz realized how parched he was. But he couldn't remember what had happened.

He could tell from her expression that Jemma couldn't either. Worry was quickly appearing in her eyes. "What are we going to do?"

The door slid open and a woman stepped in. She had long blond hair and wore a dark suit, a black notebook in her arm. She walked over and smiled down to them. "You can answer some questions, sweetie. We'll decide what happens after that once we've talked."