Drabble 79: Don't Think

A/N: Based on one of the final episodes of season three, that moment when every Fitz-Simmons shipper felt incredibly happy with the couple. It's slightly different from the episode, but the basics are the same. Enjoy.

"Every time we think about this, something goes wrong."

"Then we need to stop thinking," He said. "And just act."

Fitz looked at her and felt the urge to kiss her. He wanted to drop everything – the mission, the stress, the danger – and take her in his arms, and never let her go. They'd kissed a few times since 'starting over'. It had been amazing. But what they had just said, about not thinking. He wanted to try it. And he wanted to try it right now.

Unfortunately, they had a mission. Which could go very badly if he didn't think. So he promised himself that they would try not thinking later.

And then the Hive-controlled Daisy had shown up, and things had gotten serious. He had tried to reason with her, to tell her they could get her back to normal, fix her. That had made things worse. She'd gotten upset and pushed him against the wall with her powers, leaving him trapped there as she kept up the flow of energy. She'd told him she was finally happy, and didn't want to be what he considered cured. And then she'd increased the pressure around his neck when he tried to protest, saying it wasn't her talking. He'd truly been scared for his life, because as she increased the pressure his airways tightened, and he couldn't breathe, clawing feebly at his throat and looking at her with panic in his eyes, pleading silently. She'd let her powers drop and he fell, free again, gasping for air, and watched as she grabbed the doctor and left. But before she did she told him she only let him live because of what he used to mean to her. That next time, she wouldn't stop the attack. And all he could do was take strangled gasps as his body resupplied itself with oxygen.

Once he'd gotten his breath back he's straightened and looked out the way Daisy had gone, but there was no sign of her. He didn't have a way to free her anyway, and he certainly couldn't defeat her. So he headed back to the hotel, walking slowly as his thoughts raced. What could they do now? The doctor had been there one great idea for eliminating Hive's influence. What did Hive want with him? And how had Daisy known she would find him there?

Then another thought crossed his mind. If Daisy was there, what if Hive had been as well? They stayed pretty close to each other, because she fed off of his presence. But if he was there, and Fitz had only seen Daisy… what if Hive had found someone else to keep him occupied?

Jemma.

And all of a sudden nothing else mattered. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He had been so stuck on himself he hadn't checked in on her, to see if she was alright. He had just assumed that she had gotten out first, so she would be fine. But if Hive was there… Oh, God, if Hive was there and tapped into Will's memories when he saw her… would he have hurt her? Messed with her head?

There was a chance he was just imagining things, of course, but he felt certain that Hive had been there with Daisy. And that he had run into Jemma as she tried to leave.

As he processed this he ran back to the hotel room, sprinting through the street he had been strolling on a moment before. He had to see her.

And then he got to the hotel room and she was standing there, completely safe, and his panic left him, replaced by a type of weariness. Which faded almost immediately of course, once she saw him and ran over, embracing him.

"Where have you been?!" she demanded, and he was slightly shocked and slightly pleased to hear the fear in her voice. "We said to meet immediately at the rendezvous point!"

"I was on my way, I just got caught up…" he stopped, looking at her beautiful brown eyes, so completely focused on him, and realized it wasn't important at the moment. They could talk about it later, he knew they would talk about it later, probably extensively. Now he wanted to do something that shouldn't wait.

"Where's Mack?" he asked.

"He's stepped out." She replied, her voice different, her tone… lighter, in a way. She was thinking the same thing he was.

"Can we really do this?" she asked. And he knew she wasn't asking because she didn't want to, but because she was worried about it being complicated.

He answered by closing the small distance between them and crashing his lips against hers, a roaring sound filling his ears. As soon as their lips touched an electricity seemed to jolt all thoughts and fears from his mind. He was aware of one thing: the need for his body to be as close to hers as possible, to feel her next to him, touching him, and never stop. They kissed intensely, breathing heavily, and he moved his hands to her body searchingly, one on the small of her back, keeping her close, the other on the back of her neck. And her hands were on him as well, taking off his jacket, touching his shoulders and neck with so much power but never force.

He was in heaven, he had to be, and he wasn't thinking about anything except her. Her lips moved to his jawline and tickled him, and he sighed and started walking them towards the bed. They sat down on it at first, not really stopping kissing, and then it lessened as her hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, undoing them, and she helped break him free of it. He lifted her shirt off as well, and then lay back on the bed, their hands roaming down below their necks, feeling how solid and real the other was, unable to believe it was happening and not able to believe it hadn't happened sooner.

They did pause at that point, not speaking but looking at each other, desire plain in both their gazes, but also hesitance. And when their eyes met in that instant, both relaying the exact same feeling, a thousand thoughts could have been said, half telling them to proceed, half to not do anything.

They smiled, their eyes still locked, and started kissing again, with renewed vigor. And this time they didn't stop. They got under the covers and fully undressed, and then they finally broke that dam of sexual tension, that had stood between them so long and that simply kissing had never satisfied fully.

While it happened, they didn't have coherent thoughts. They were able to think of the other's name, but not more than that. The only thing they were aware of, truly, was the feeling of the other person, the warmth between their bodies; the absolute rightness of what they were doing, a feeling so profound it didn't require a thought to be known. It just was.

And when they were done, looking at each other on the bed and getting their breath back, Fitz looked at Jemma and smiled simply. "I like not thinking."

Her eyes held a sparkle of amusement, thinking of their earlier conversation, as she looked adoringly back at him. "Me too."

They had finally done what had hours ago seemed incredibly complicated, and, even though they were thinking about it now, it didn't seem complicated at all anymore, because they had finally just done it, not overthinking.

And now it seemed like the simplest thing in the world.