Jumping to conclusions
The water is freezing, but hopefully they won't have to wait long for the team to rescue them. After he's successfully taken off his parachute harness, Fitz makes a couple of stupid Titanic jokes while they swim away from the canopy to avoid getting tangled, and she pretends to sigh each time.
But the truth is, she's very glad he's behaving like everything is fine.
Like they aren't drifting in the middle of the cold Atlantic ocean, or like they didn't just jump off a plane, or like one of them didn't just get almost killed by an alien virus.
It helps her stay grounded, in a way. It would be all too easy to just give up right here and now. She figures she's on the verge of a meltdown – all signs point to it –, but to be honest, who could blame her?
It would be a perfectly natural reaction to all of this.
Having to let go of Fitz when they hit the water almost triggered it. Without the warm, safe embrace of his arms around her, she instantly felt lost and desperate, and it took all her willpower to get her limbs moving to keep her head above the water. She felt drained, like a shadow of herself, but when Fitz got rid of his harness and swam towards her, one brush of his fingers on the back of her hand melted all of these dark feelings away.
After that she's only left with very conflicted feelings, the impression that she will forever be cold, and a best friend that seems deeply intent on taking her mind off of everything – which she would have found sweet in any other circumstances, but which actually only seems to be messing with her brain at the moment.
She cannot believe she almost kissed him.
Not that it's a thought that's never occurred to her, or that repulsed her or anything. Fitz's always been handsome, and yes, she probably had a small crush on him during her first few days at the Academy, she's not gonna lie. But getting to know him, realizing how compatible they were, how their brains seemed to align and work perfectly together, it all kind of pushed away that tiny crush of hers – which was absolutely fine by her, because the friendship they built from there was so much better than anything she could have imagined.
But now he's jumped off a plane to save her.
She'd been ready, ready to die to save them all, but especially him. She knew the risks coming into the field. She knew what she was getting herself into. Granted, she'd wished it hadn't come so soon – or at all really. But she had made up her mind. That's why she'd taken the decision to knock him out with the fire extinguisher. She knew he'd try to stop her, she knew he'd never lose hope until the very last second. She couldn't afford to put his life and the others' at risk like this. She knew what she had to do.
She thought knocking him out would protect him from the raging pain she felt at the idea of leaving him. She hadn't done that good of a job though. He'd woken up just as she was about to jump. She knows now that she'll never forget the look of utter desperation and panic in his eyes when he'd realized what she was about to do.
Thinking back, it's the one thing she regrets the most. She never meant to hurt him. She knew her death would probably be hard on him, but what she definitely didn't want was for him to watch her go.
She really needs to work on her abilities to knock people out. Maybe she could ask agent May for some advice.
She is pretty glad he actually woke up to realize the anti-serum had worked though. She wouldn't be having this discussion with herself if it weren't for that.
Everything about this is so crazy it's ridiculous.
They've been in the water for ten good minutes now. She's always been a good swimmer, but she definitely notices that Fitz is in more difficulties than he lets out. When they hear the Bus still high above their heads, she turns to him, reaching for his hand under the water. "You should go first," she tells him, brushing his wrist in a shy gesture.
He instantly frowns at that, which doesn't surprise her. "And why is that?" he scoffs, and she tilts her head to the side with a closed-lip smile.
"Fitz, we both know I'm a better swimmer than you."
"Ha, yeah, well, that's not, I mean–" he mumbles some nonsense in his beard for a while, and she can't help her fond smile. Some things will never change. She must say, she's deeply relieved to not be gone for good. To still be here to witness her best friend get all cranky when she points out one of his weaknesses. To still be able to watch him pout like a small child, watch his blue eyes go round and deeply offended, watch him attempt to stammer out everything he's thinking all at once.
A hard lump slowly grows in her throat at this thought. Suddenly it gets a little harder to breathe and her eyes start burning. She takes a shaky breath, hoping against all senses she won't start crying. She wouldn't be embarrassed to cry in front of him, of course not, but she isn't sure if she'd be able to stop anytime soon if she does. The aftershock is close, which is a natural response to such stressful events, she knows it. She would love to be able to avoid that particular part though.
"Jemma."
She looks up to meet his gaze, her throat so contrite it hurts. There is concern in these oh so familiar blue eyes, and her heart jumps at this sight. Of course he'd notice the shift in her mood, it must read all over her face. He's closer than a few seconds ago, she can feel his hesitation over whether or not to touch her. This is all too much, she thinks. If she stops pretending that she's okay, she'll lose herself, she knows it. "I'm fine," she tells him with what she hopes is a reassuring nod, but she instantly knows from his expression that she doesn't fool him one bit.
"You're a terrible liar, Simmons," he points out with somewhat of a smug expression, and she makes a face at that, because he's right. She is a terrible liar. Always has been. "You're going to be fine though," he adds with a serious nod. "You have to."
She smiles, shaking her head at the determination she feels in his words. He's still looking at her intently though, so she bites her lip and just nod. He's right. She's going to be okay, thanks to him. His fingers brush her forearm, and it's probably just by accident since they're still very close, but the contact helps to ground her once again. A shiver runs through her, and she isn't sure if it's from the cold water, or from his touch.
She doesn't get to ponder much on an explanation, because the Bus is suddenly above them, the ramp open, agents May and Ward ready to fish them out of the ocean. They send down a harness and when it reaches them, they both look at each other with hesitant faces. She doesn't want to have to argue with him, and he apparently feels the same way. People sometimes tell them it looks as if they can read each other's mind, and sometimes she admits that she kind of thinks so too. So it's no surprise to her when they both blurt out one word after a few seconds of staring at each other:
"Together?"
Fitz' satisfied smile makes her heart leap in her chest, and she nods with a small smile of her own. They both grab the harness in the same motion, securing their hands, and when he opens his arm she doesn't hesitate. Feeling his body pressed against hers is somehow a huge relief, and when the team starts to raise them up, she nuzzles her face against his neck, ignoring the painful pull on her arm and the exhaustion in her entire body. He's holding onto her tightly like earlier, and that's the only thing that matters.
She closed her eyes, and she might have blacked out for a few seconds because when she opens them again she's lying safely on her side next to the spiraling staircase of the Bus. May is kneeling beside her, frowning, and helps her sit up when she starts trying too. "Easy there."
"I'm okay," she assures weakly, her eyes instinctively looking for Fitz. He's standing near the glass doors of the lab, wrapped up in a thick blanket. Ward is standing beside him with his arms crossed, a pained expression on his face, but she doesn't linger on that fact. May wraps her up in a blanket too, and helps her to her feet. It definitely feels weird to walk after falling from the sky into the ocean.
Not much is said, except that Coulson is waiting for them in his office, and that they should change before meeting him. May helps her up the stairs, and presses her upper arm for a second before leaving her to change. It makes her choke up just a little. To May, this is probably the equivalent of a big hug and two kisses on each cheek, so it definitely means a lot.
When she emerges from her bunk with clean clothes, Fitz is waiting for her. She walks to him, meeting his hesitant eyes with her own, and they walk side by side to the stairs leading to Coulson's office. She's never seen the agent in such an agitated state before, and listens in surprise as he rambles angrily about how it wasn't either of their calls to do something like this. She doesn't even dare looking away from him to chance a look at Fitz, who must be particularly embarrassed – if she had to guess.
"Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again," the man spells out, clearly pissed. His gaze moves from her to Fitz, then back to her, and he adds in a quieter voice: "We'd hate to lose either of you."
And, just like that, they're dismissed. As they get out of the office, she meets Fitz' unsure gaze, and she lets out the smallest chuckle of relief. It makes him smile, and then he's opening his mouth, and she finds herself very anxious to hear what he has to say, for some reason. He's stopped by Skye though, who runs to them and wraps them both in a tight hug, complaining and laughing in relief at the same time.
"You two idiots scared me to death," Skye scoffs when she finally lets them go, turning her gaze to her with a frown. She gives her an apologetic smile, and her friend's expression softens. After that Fitz excuses himself and goes back to his bunk, and all of a sudden she feels lost again. Skye interprets the change in her expression as exhaustion – which, to be fair, is a good interpretation – and she leads her back to her bunk, telling her to get some rest. Then she's left by herself, her head filled with a lot of rambling thoughts.
The main one being how much she craves for Fitz' arms to be around her again.
It's a very new feeling for her. She's not sure she can explain it. Well, that's not true, of course she can. On a biochemical level, it makes a lot of sense. Jumping off the plane to her death released a surge of adrenaline in her system, creating a flight or fight kind of reaction in her body despite her decision to end things. It also created a spike in noradrenaline, which works in pair with adrenaline to mobilize the brain and body for action, and is known to enhance formation and retrieval of memories, focus attention, increase alertness… and arousal as well. Having Fitz catch her the way he did, feeling his body pressed against her in a way it never had before, it all probably triggered said arousal to higher level, which means her reaction, her desire to kiss him, was totally natural, biochemically speaking.
But the thing is, she's not sure this is just a biological reaction. If it was just that, she wouldn't crave for his touch as much now that they're safe. Except she does. She wants to hold him again, she wants to feel him breathe against her, she wants him to wrap her in his arms and never let go. She wants to feel safe again, and being flushed against him while they fell from the sky is somehow the safer she's ever felt in her life.
Which is definitely not a logical thing, at all.
She's still in shock, she knows it, but she's pretty sure it's not just that. She's known for a long time that Fitz is a very important part of her life, but almost dying today made her realize that there might be more to it than she previously thought.
Especially now that he's jumped off a plane to save her.
She lies back on her bed, her heart pounding. Thinking about what he did is almost overwhelming, like a wave of something incredibly warm crashing through her. It's soothing and scary at the same time, and she really doesn't know where she's standing.
Because it's not just anyone.
It's Fitz. Her best friend in the whole world.
Fitz, who helped her figure out how to create the anti-serum that saved her life.
Fitz, who braved quarantine despite knowing she could infect him.
Fitz, who didn't falter when it seemed like all hope was lost – when she lost hope.
Fitz, who kept fighting, Fitz, who jumped after her when it turned out the anti-serum worked.
He risked his life for her, jumping off a plane when he hasn't even passed his field assessment. She knows for a fact that he's never been skydiving before either. He could have waited for Ward, could have given him the anti-serum and let him dive to rescue her, because obviously that's what operatives do.
But he didn't.
He didn't even hesitate.
She definitely cannot ignore what this means about him – what she apparently means to him. She cannot forget the anger in his voice when he asked her what she was thinking. How hard he held onto her, pressing her tightly against his chest. How he looked down at her lips a few times, how his hands balled up into fists when she'd leaned her forehead against his.
She had been about to kiss him, and he hadn't shied away from it.
Actually, she's pretty sure he'd moved even closer.
She's not sure what any of this means. In a way, she's kind of amazed by how trivial it all seems to be, especially compared to almost being killed by an alien virus. Yet that's the one and only subject she has in mind right now. She should be excited about going to the Sandbox and handing in their report on how they managed to create the anti-serum. Well, she is excited about this, obviously, but it's definitely not her main concern at the moment.
No, somehow, her main concern at the moment is determining if she should knock on Fitz' door and kiss him.
That would be a bold move.
She's not especially bold, at least she doesn't think so. Definitely not as bold as May, or even Skye. That being said, she thinks she could be.
But it's scary.
Because, once again, it's not just anyone.
It's Fitz.
Her best friend.
She keeps getting back to the same arguments over and over again. She's a mess, and the funny thing is, she knows that seeing him would untangle the mess of her thoughts. Because that's what they are to each other: they're each other's enabler. He makes things possible for her, and she does the same for him. That's why it's always advantageous to pair them up together, they manage to get so much work done that way. They complement each other. Everyone in SHIELD knows that. Even Director Fury knows about 'Fitz-Simmons'.
They're already a thing, aren't they?
Oh wow she's really getting confused. She just needs to get in there and see. Gather information on where he's standing, and adapt from there. Yes, that's a good plan. Well, a good enough plan. To be honest it's not much of a plan at all, but she's sick of pondering in her room alone like this. It's not leading anywhere. She needs to figure out if what she's feeling is a situational type of thing or not. And she needs to ask Fitz what he thinks about it, too. After all he is the main recipient of this whole mess she's stuck herself in, right?
She should thank him too. She already did, back when they were still flying above the ocean, but she thinks it would be good to thank him again. She owes him her life, after all.
She probably should apologize for hitting him in the head with a fire extinguisher too, now that she thinks about it.
Before she can talk herself out of it, she springs up from her bed, opens the door of her bunk and makes her way to Fitz'. She takes a sharp breath before knocking gently, and smiles to herself when she hears his familiar voice telling her to come in. She opens the door slowly, forcing herself to grin casually – despite not feeling casual at all. Her heart is definitely beating a little too fast for her liking. He's sitting on his bunk, fiddling with another project of his, and when he looks up to meet her eyes, his eyebrows move up in surprise.
"Hi Fitz."
"Hey, Jem– um Simmons, hi."
It feels like her heart is falling deep into her chest. From his body language and his voice, she instantly figures he's embarrassed, and nervous, and it's definitely not helping her own nerves. This was a huge mistake, she thinks, but she can't quite back out of it now. It would probably seem really weird. Why on earth is this so difficult? "Can we uh," she takes a shaky breath, gesturing to the bed without really intending to, "can we talk about what happened earlier?"
His blue eyes widen in surprise, but after a couple of second he nods nervously, moving his stuff around so she can sit next to him. "Yeah, sure."
So she does sit, and for a minute they sit there in an awkward silence that is in no way representative of how they usually are. She's looking down at her hands, and when she eventually looks up Fitz looks down instantly, and she thinks she might catch a slow blush on his cheeks before he hides his face by scratching his temple. Everything is so painfully awkward her hands are shaking a little – a lot. Why is it so hard?
She opens her mouth, very intent on getting out of this deeply awkward silence, but he does so at the same time, and they end up talking over each other like they often do:
"You jumped off a plane to save me."
"You almost kissed me."
Fitz' eyes widen even more, shock written all over his face, and she's pretty sure she's mirroring his expression. She doesn't know what she expected, but him mentioning that was definitely not it. She wants to say something, she's not sure what, but his mortified expression is so evident, like he's definitely beating himself up for what he just let out, that she somehow ends up pretending she didn't hear what he said.
"What?"
His expression swaps from horrified to deeply relieved – with a hint of embarrassment as well – in a split second, and then he's letting out a small, nervous chuckle, playing with a loose thread of his pillowcase. "Nothing? Ha, uh, yeah, so the plane thing."
He's avoiding her eyes, wrapping his arms around his pillow, his gaze lost in front of him, and she gets the sudden urge to grab his face and make him look at her – but she doesn't do it, obviously, because that's just… not a good idea. "I just, I just wanted to tell you that I'm," she pinches her lips, looking for her words, desperate to meet his eyes but finding that it's somehow easier to talk when he's not staring back. Everything is so weird. "I'm, I'm very thankful for what you did Fitz." He vaguely shrugs in response, and somehow with that she realizes there's something else she's been meaning to tell him. He was angry at her earlier, but she's just now seeing that she might be a little mad at him too. "Despite the fact that it was very reckless of you, I mean you should have let Ward do it or–"
That definitely does grab his attention, and suddenly his deeply offended eyes meet hers. "What?" he rasps, disbelief obvious in his voice, "wh– why?" He's frowning, and she can feel the anger bubbling inside him. "Because he'd have been so much better at it than me, is that it?"
He's being unfair. "Of course not, that's not what I–"
"I mean that's just–" he interrupts her again, tossing the pillow behind him and facing her fully now, "that's just rubbish really, 'cause I apparently did a pretty good job since you're here right now, didn't I?"
"You could have gotten yourself killed!"
It comes out in a yell, a lot louder than she ever intended. She's jumped to her feet, looking down at him with tears in her eyes, her hands clenched into fists to prevent them from shaking. She can't believe any of this. All this time spent reflecting on whatever feelings she has for him and she didn't even realize how angry she was at him. It's an irrational sort of anger, if she's being honest with herself, but that knowledge doesn't prevent her from feeling it all the same.
It definitely takes him by surprise. He's staring at her with wide eyes, and all his anger seems gone. She watches as he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, apparently looking for an answer, and just like that her own anger subsides, leaving her standing in front of him like an idiot, chest heaving and barely a few inches away from his face. "Um, well I um," he stammers for a second, craning his neck up to look at her, and somehow he seems out of breath too, and really she has no idea what on earth is going on. "You, you could have gotten yourself killed too."
She plops back down on the bed next to him at that, hands covering her face for a second. "Well that was the plan," she sighs, a lump forming in her throat.
"Yeah, and it was a stupid plan," he retorts, nudging her lightly, and she can hear the tentative smile in his voice.
"I know," she sighs again, glancing at him for a second before looking back down at her hands. "My point is… I know how you feel about all this, I know you're into the field only because of me and I'm…" she takes a sharp breath, taking her chance and meeting his eyes for good now. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this… this 'flying circus' or whatever." She looks away, not entirely sure if she wants to know his feelings about this after all – because what if he's actually mad at her for getting him into this? What if he wants out? She's really not sure what she'd do if that was the case.
"Well I'm not sorry about it," Fitz says after a few seconds of silence, and she glances at him in surprise.
"You're not?"
"Nope," he shakes his head, his knee bumping hers lightly – which sends weird tingles up her leg for some reason. "I mean, who would've helped you figure out how to make that anti-serum if I hadn't been there huh?" She can't help her smile at that, and it seems to please him because he almost looks at her smugly. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Simmons."
"You know that's not what I want," she retorts, tilting her head at him with a small smile, and this time she definitely does not imagine the blush on his cheeks in response. It makes her own cheeks grow hot too, but somehow emboldens her to keep going at the same time. For a second she thinks about telling him to ask her what she wants, but she chickens out entirely and instead looks down at where their knees are still touching. "Thank you Fitz," she whispers after a moment, "for everything."
"You're welcome, Simmons."
Their gazes meet, and she can't help herself and glances down at his lips after a few seconds. And he sees it, she knows he does because his lips part slightly, mirroring the surprise she knows has settled in his blue eyes. She doesn't leave herself the time to ponder. She leans in, and presses her lips to his. They're warm, and soft, and her heart is pounding so hard in her chest she can't hear anything else. She doesn't let it last for more than a second though. She has no idea why. She stands up from the bed, hands a little shaky.
"That erases the 'almost'," she tells him quietly, without looking back at him because she's not sure she wants to know what's in his eyes right now. She takes a few steps, reaching for the handle of the bunk's door, but then he grabs her wrist and holds her back. A shiver runs up her arm, originating from where his fingers are wrapped around her wrist, and her breath catches in her chest. She feels him stand behind her, and her heart is pounding even harder than seconds before.
"Jemma…"
He so very rarely calls her by her name. The occurrences before today could have been counted on the fingers of one hand, in all the years they've been friends. It means something. It has too. It means, it means… no, she really needs to avoid jumping to conclusions, just like he said earlier. It might mean something, but it also might not mean anything at all. She knows she has to turn and face him, but she's deeply afraid of what she's going to see when she does. The 'what ifs' are so numerous they're almost making her dizzy.
When she does turn around and meet his eyes, she's surprised to discover him so close to her. His face is serious, but his gaze uncertain, and her scientific brain tries to come up with a hundred of possible explanations for that in the thirty-second span of time where they just stand there staring at each other in silence.
Then he speaks again, his voice low and hesitant. "You kissed me."
It's not a question, but she still feels the urge to answer nonetheless. "I did." She cannot explain or even comprehend the shift she witnesses in his eyes at that, but when he doesn't reply anything to that she feels like her heart just droops sadly in her chest. This was a mistake. "I'm so sorry Fitz I just–"
But then his lips are on hers again, muffling the sound of her surprise, and he's grabbing at her waist in an almost desperate gesture that makes her heart skip a few beats. She moves her hands up to his face, her fingers skimming across his soft skin, and it all feels so right. His lips feel incredible moving with hers, sending shivers up her spine, and it's absolutely nothing like any of the other kisses she had before. It feels so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Innocent and shy at first, burning and desperate the second after.
Like neither of them can believe they're actually doing this.
Kissing each other.
She grabs at the collar of his shirt to keep him close, and he blindly backs her up to the closed door, pressing his entire body against hers. His hands are soft and careful on her waist, but his eager mouth betrays him. She definitely doesn't mind. She never really thought much about it before, but she really wouldn't have thought he'd be that good at it. Oh, but who is she kidding, of course it makes sense that he is, it's Fitz. Amazing, wonderfully smart Fitz. He's probably charting every little thing he does that gets a reaction out of her as they kiss. Yes, he's definitely doing that, she thinks. And he's definitely getting reactions out of her too, which she's not ashamed of in the slightest.
One of his hands move to cup her cheeks and she sighs against his lips. His tongue eagerly meets hers and she slides her arms over his shoulders to hold him even closer. He lets out a low moan when she does, and it sends a delicious wave of something warm through her entire body. She smiles and he does too after a second, and the intimacy of that small action is so wonderfully overwhelming she just has to take a second to draw a shaky breath. He presses his forehead to hers as she does, and from what she gathers he seems thankful for the opportunity to pause for a second. She gets it, she feels it too. This is all so new.
"So that's, that was, ahem, yeah–" he stammers out, his hand falling back from her cheek to her waist, and she shivers because of his touch. There's no denying it now, and she's okay with it she thinks.
"That was new," she nods with an amused grin, pinching her lips when he scoffs a little.
"Understatement of the year," he mumbles, but she knows he's not annoyed because when she chuckles he gives her a bright, albeit still a little unsure smile.
"Was that… okay?" she asks quietly after a second of silence, biting down her smile when he nods instantly at that.
"Yeah, yeah definitely okay."
"Okay," she nods too, and they share a shy smile.
"Touchdown in five minutes," May's voice comes from the speakers above their heads, sharp and to the point as always. "Get ready."
Fitz instantly steps back from her at that, and she admits it, she feels a little disappointed. But the shy smile he's still giving her is enough to make her heart skip a beat again. "We should go," she tells him, hesitating for a second before rearranging the collar of his shirt. She wants to kiss his fond smile but she refrains herself. They've got time.
"Um, should we, um–" he's hesitating again, and she finishes his sentence for him without even thinking.
"Keep this between us for now? Yeah."
"Right, okay."
"Are you nervous?" she asks him with a curious look, and he rolls his eyes.
"No, everything's fine, we're just about to keep something secret from a bunch of secret agents, is all."
"It's just until we figure things out," she reassures him with a soft smile, her breath catching when he absentmindedly runs a finger on her left cheek.
"I know."
He's very close now, his nose almost brushing hers, and a flock of butterflies erupts in her stomach to the knowledge that he definitely wants to kiss her again. She does too, very much. She cannot believe they're doing this. "We have to go," she reminds him reluctantly, and he runs a hand through his hair with a small chuckle.
"Right."
So they get out of Fitz' room together, careful not to be too close to each other, not noticing that Skye is siting on the couch on the other side of the room, giving them a curious glance. They don't notice her knowing, almost triumphant smile either, and it's probably for the best.
Because Skye is definitively jumping to conclusions.