May decided that hand-to-hand combat was high priority for Fitzsimmons. Neither one of them had had any significant experience, nor did that have many physical advantages. Like size, or muscle.

They started with a brief warm-up (well, May considered it 'brief'. Her students may have disagreed), followed by some stretches and 20 minutes of boxing.

'Keep those hands up!' May kept saying. Honestly, for supposed geniuses, these two sure had short memories.

By the end of the boxing segment, both Fitz and Jemma were sweating profusely. May gave them a short drink break, during which time she cleared the floor and laid out mats for sparring.

'Okay, Fitz, you first. Let's see what you can do.' May beckoned with her hand, and Fitz reluctantly stepped up onto the mat.

'Hit me,' May commanded.

Fitz had seen this sequence play out before. Usually, the agent in question would be reluctant to raise a hand against May. Eventually, she would goad them into a half-hearted attempt, and she would painfully flip them onto their backs before they could figure out what was happening. Fitz wasn't going to be tricked. He lunged out immediately with a straight punch.

It wasn't a bad attempt. In most opponents, he would have landed a sharp hit to the jaw with enough speed and spontaneity that his opponent was unlikely to react in time.

But obviously, that didn't work for May.

May sidestepped, and Fitz lost his balance, reeling forwards. It only took a gentle shove for Fitz to go sprawling to one side.

Ignoring Jemma's cry of shock, Fitz rolled over and got to his feet. Immediately, he dove for May again. This time, she brought one knee up, using Fitz's own momentum to send him flailing and doubling over in pain.

'Fitz!' Jemma moved forward to check on him, but Fitz waved off her concerns.

'I'm fine, Jemma,' he panted.

May nodded approvingly. 'Not bad at all.' She went on to correct his movements, instructing Jemma to listen carefully. They repeated a few drills, committing the moves to muscle memory, a bit like a dance. Jemma commented on this comparison, and May almost smiled. 'Exactly. It's supposed to be like a dance. Smooth. Each movement flows into the next. It's about flow and balance.'

Soon, it was Jemma's turn to spar with May. She knew she had to go all in, and she did. She fared slightly better than Fitz, having received a little extra coaching, but by the end, she also knew that she would emerge with a plethora of bruises the next day.

'Good work so far,' May said as she gave them another drink break. They leaned against each other on the bench, sipping water and dripping with sweat. 'Now, final exercise before lunch. Up on the mats.'

They reluctantly dragged themselves back on on the mats, but May didn't follow. Both of the cottoned on at exactly the same time.

'Oh, no.'

'May, please-'

May threw up her hands in a gesture of 'you know you have to'. But Fitzsimmons still didn't budge, and she was forced to use her words. 'Look, if it were twenty years ago, I might buy the argument that you'd never fight each other. But now we've seen aliens and Inhumans, not to mention mind-control parasites. Besides,' she added. 'It's the ultimate test of control.'

Rationally, Fitz knew that she was right. But he still wasn't going to hit Jemma. He crossed his arms and glared at May like a toddler, a stubborn set to his jaw. May rolled her eyes at him and turned to look at Simmons.

The same cogs were turning in Jemma's mind. She really didn't want to hurt Fitz. But maybe she wouldn't. Fitz was stronger than her, and a better fighter. He was more likely to hurt her.

May could practically see the thought appear in Jemma's eyes. She smiled a little, then a frown of concentration appeared on her brow.

'Come on, Fitz,' she said encouragingly, stepping back into a fighting stance.

'No, Jemma, Jemma, please-'

But Jemma had already started. She knew May would make them spar, sooner or later, and she didn't want to wait around to see May's persuasion techniques. Jemma's fist shot forward.

Fitz had good reflexes, a fact that was very comforting to Jemma at the moment. He dodged easily out of the way, and half-heartedly grabbed Jemma's wrist and rather slowly twisted it behind her back, like May had shown them. They both rolled - painfully slowly - onto the mat and sprang back up.

May sighed. 'Pathetic,' she spat out. 'Fitz! For goodness sake, she's not made of glass. Don't do everything in slow motion.'

Fitz shook his head angrily.

'Go again,' May commanded.

They tried again. Fitz made the first move this time, a sluggish sidestep and lunge, with an admittedly pathetic attempt to grab Jemma by the waist and push her to the floor.

She stepped back to dodge his movement and dove over his arm, completing a forward roll and ending up on Fitz's other side. Fitz turned and was about to try again, but May's voice stopped him.

'No, no, Fitz! Good strategy, but you have to actually spar with Jemma. Imagine she's infected by Hive and wants to kill you!'

This scenario did not sit well with Fitz. 'Jemma's not an inhuman.'

'Just use your imagination!' May said. She noted the expression on Fitz's face, and decided she'd better change tack. 'Jemma hasn't got an issue with sparring with you.'

'That's because she knows she won't actually hurt me!'

Jemma had to admit this was mostly correct, but not entirely. 'No, Fitz,' she said softly. 'I might actually hurt you. Fitz, I'm stronger than you think.'

May nodded approvingly. 'Think about it Fitz. She swam up from the bottom of the ocean while dragging you with her. She went undercover at Hydra and survived. She almost killed Ward. And for goodness sake, Fitz, she survived Maveth.'

Jemma's face was glowing red, and Fitz's was redder. He evidently did not like being reminded of the suffering that she had endured. He was supposed to protect her. She wasn't supposed to be this strong - to need to be this strong.

'Fitz, come on,' Jemma said. She lowered her voice further, even though she knew May could still hear her. 'Let's just get this over and done with, otherwise May will surely think of something worse.'

'What could be worse that hitting each other, Jemma?' Fitz hissed back.

'I don't know, maybe she'll make us shoot each other or something.'

'She wouldn't.'

'With ICERs, she would.'

This made Fitz take pause, and he had to admit that Jemma was right.

'Fine.' May took one glance at the look of reluctance and loathing etched across Fitz's features, and decided that getting Fitzsimmons to spar each other might well be the greatest acts of persuasion she had ever performed.

'Good,' May said, hiding a smile. 'Ready - and - go!'