Drabble 71: Martin

A/N: This drabble was requested by Spitfire303. Hope you like it!

"The only thing I'm afraid of is putrid, decaying flesh corrupting my pristine workspace. Do you remember the last time you brought a dead thing into the lab?"

"Oh, not the stupid cat again. And it-."

"The cat."

"No-."

"Yes, the cat! You left its liver next to my lunch!"

Fitz was driving in the car with Jemma when she saw it.

"What is that?"

He looked over and saw a scrap of fur along the edge of the road. He sighed. "I don't know."

Jemma always asked what the poor animal was once she saw road-kill. She just had to know which type of animal had lost its life on the road. And once she knew she focused on it, her eyes looking so sad as she thought about it and lamented its loss. That lasted about a minute, until the scientific part of her mind took over. Then she told him how numerous most of the animals were, and which scavengers would go after them.

But this time was different. "Fitz, I think it's a cat."

He kept going. "Maybe it's a raccoon or something." From the quick glance he'd given it, it was larger than a rabbit and had long dark gray fur.

"But what if it's a cat?" she asked.

Now she was focused on it. "Jemma, even if it is we can't do anything for it."

"Go back." She pleaded.

"To do what?" he asked. This was dangerous territory. They'd never seen a cat or dog in this situation. Fitz knew Jemma had a fondness for cats, and if that really was a dead cat (which he suspected it might actually be), it might upset her more than usual.

Fitz really didn't want her to be upset, but he knew he would never hear the end of it if he didn't turn around. "Fine." He said, pulling into a parking lot and swinging the car around. He drove back and slowed down as they passed the animal, Jemma looking out the window very carefully.

"It is." She said softly.

He pulled the car over and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. But why would it… never mind."

"It's not that often you see a dead cat." Fitz said. After he said it he regretted it, realizing it probably didn't make her feel any better.

She was quiet for a minute, and then she looked at him.

"No." he said.

She just kept looking at him. He knew that look. The science part of her brain was taking over. She wanted to study something.

"Jem." He said.

Her silence overpowered his protests. "Alright, I'll get the bloody cat for you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Fitz."

"Yeah." He said as he unbuckled. He walked around the front of the vehicle and looked at the motionless cat. "How do I do this?" he asked himself. He did have a blanket in the trunk. Yeah, that could work.

So he placed the blanket over the cat and picked it up, placing the carefully wrapped bundled back in the trunk.

"I'm not getting in trouble for stealing a dead cat." He said as he buckled up again.

"Relax." She said. "No one saw you. And like you said, it's not often you see a dead cat. This is a great opportunity!"

"I can't believe I thought you'd be upset about it." He muttered, pulling back into traffic.

"It's sad, but I can't focus on that." She said. "I just need to think about the science of it!"

"This is incredible." Jemma said.

Fitz looked over and saw her, standing over the dead animal with a scalpel in hand, grinning. "You realize how bad this would look to anyone but me." He said.

"But it is you, and you know me."

Now he smiled. "Yeah, I do. So how much do you know about our feline friend?"

"He died immediately upon impact with a vehicle, and was thrown into the spot we found him."

"Him?"

"Yes. It's a male, probably in the middle of his life. Before he died he had a nice feast of two mice."

"Doesn't sound like a bad last day." Fitz said.

"This is the first cat I've ever looked into, and I have to say it's a fine specimen."

"As long as you keep the specimen over in your workplace I'm happy."

"Oh, Fitz, it's not that bad. He doesn't even really smell yet."

"Yet being the opportune word. It's just starting, but that 'specimen' you have will decay like anything else, and I don't want to have that mess in our lab."

"I only want to take a look inside it. It'll be gone long before it becomes too much of a mess."

She looked at the gray-furred cat on the table in front of her and shook her head. "It should have had a longer life."

Fitz watched her get to work again with a sad smile. Ever the scientist, Jemma rarely shared these thoughts with him when she was in the middle of a project like this.

"We'll give him a proper burial once you're done." Fitz said.

She stopped working and looked up at him. "Really?"

"Really." He said. "As long as you don't make me pick up any more road-kill."

The next morning Jemma continued to look at her specimen. When Fitz protested keeping it in the lab another day, she said, "I just want to look at its organs in depth. By the end of the day I'll definitely be done."

So she separated the organs and looked at them independently.

That was how Fitz found a liver next to his lunch. He came back from washing his hands and stopped short.

"What's that?"

Jemma looked over and laughed. "Silly me. I left the liver out!"

"It's next to my lunch." Fitz said. Even to him his tone sounded empty.

"I didn't mean it."

"A dead cat's liver is next to my lunch."

"Would you like it better if it was a live cat's liver?" she teased.

"Can you- can you move it?"

Jemma sighed and stood, walking over to his area. She grabbed the tray and moved it clear of his view and touch. "Better?"

"A nice sandwich undisturbed by the smell of decaying flesh." He said as he sat down. "Yes, it's better."

"It's really not that bad. You're just being dramatic."

"Dramatic? You made me bring a dead cat into our lab, and you think I'm being mad for seeing parts of it strewn about our clean workspace?"

"Does this mean you won't bury it?"

Fitz stopped again. "Of course I'm still going to bury it." He said. "I just want to eat my lunch in peace."

"These are the things we'll remember." Jemma said.

"Yep." He said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Jemma stitched the cat back up after their lunch, and she and Fitz dug a grave just outside their lab, where they laid the cat to rest.

"Goodbye Martin." Jemma said.

"Goodbye." Fitz said. Then he whipped around to look at Jemma. "Martin?"

"That's what I called him!"

"You named the cat you dissected."

"Maybe don't tell anyone?"

"I think it's only safe if we don't."

They laughed and walked back inside, to the once again pristine lab they shared.

A few years later…

"Not the stupid cat again."

Fitz was quiet for a second. "You called Martin stupid."

Jemma looked shocked. "I can't believe you remembered that." She said.

"How can I forget? It was one of our first adventures in our own lab."

"What was?" Skye asked.

"Nothing." Both said at the same time. Fitz met her eyes and smiled. Some stories weren't meant to be shared. Martin's was one of them.