May had her two students set up in adjacent booths, both wearing heart-rate monitors that sent real-time information to the tablet that May was holding. They were completely focused, pistols up, goggles on, ears covered. May stood several feet behind them, watching their progress. Occasionally, she would walk up for a side view to get a better sense of their technique, but they were under strict instructions to completely ignore her.

Fitz finished first, laying down his weapon and pulling off his ear protection. He reeled in his target for May's inspection.

Jemma finished only a minute later, mirroring his movements.

'Not bad,' May said, surveying the results. Their accuracy was far from anything May or Daisy or Coulson could achieve, but it was acceptable.

Both her charges seem to relax visibly at this assessment, and Jemma even began to smile. But her smile faltered at May's next words.

'Accuracy is okay. Technique and speed need work. A lot of work. Fitz, you keep forgetting to exhale when you pull the trigger.'

Fitz frowned, trying to remember if this was true, but Jemma cut in. 'It's just like cannulating a vein, Fitz. Remember? That's exactly was I keep telling you.'

Fitz frown deepened, and consideration gave way to annoyance. 'I'm sorry, if I'm not a biologist, Jemma. I haven't spent half my adult life jabbing rats with needles.'

'I don't spend all my time doing that,' Jemma argued. 'And it's not just rats, we do it to humans all the time to save their lives.'

May realised she needed to get ahead of the situation before it descended into the classic Fitzsimmons bickering over nothing. 'Fitzsimmons,' she said quietly.

They both shut up promptly.

'Now,' May continued. 'Control. Didn't I tell you two to ignore me?'

Fitz exchanged a look of confusion with Jemma. 'Yes? And we did. Didn't even look at you.'

May passed him the tablet. 'Maybe not, but your heart rate increased drastically when I approached for a better view of your technique. You too, Simmons.'

They hovered over the tablet and quickly took in the graphs and charts that showed their heart rate over time, overlaid with one indicating May's proximity to each of them. May was right.

'Well, you made us nervous!' Fitz protested. 'If-'

'No ifs!' The sheer volume of May's voice took them both by surprise. May usually channeled an air of quiet intimidication. She rarely raised her voice, and only did so by choice. Even now, her voice was only minutely louder than regular conversation, similar to how loudly one would speak in a noisy restaurant. But it still sent the heart rate monitors of Fitz's and Jemma's wrists into overdrive.

'No if's,' she repeated in her normal voice. 'Both of you know as well as anyone that we cannot have room for if's. You need to learn control. Control your emotions. You cannot let them take over and cloud your decisions. Not nerves, not fear, not pain.' Her voice trailed off a little, and she added quietly, almost as an afterthought. 'Not guilt.'

There was a stagnant silence that seemed to smother the room.

Jemma connected the dots a second before Fitz did. 'May,' she said as gently as she could manage. 'We're not Daisy.'

May's eyes, which had been gazing at the air somewhere towards her left, snapped back up at her. 'No,' she said darkly. 'Daisy is far more competent that you. Get some new targets, let's do that again.'

There was very little conversation for the rest of day, other than both women constantly reminding Fitz to exhale when pulling the trigger. May eventually had them switch to paintball guns and practice shooting at moving targets while also running from cover to cover, which completely smothered the possibility of further conversation. Still, as she tiredly followed Fitz back to their bedroom after May had finally dismissed them, Jemma made a note to talk to May properly in the near future. For now, she wanted nothing more than a hot shower and some sleep.