A/N: I have read several fanfics that take place during or after this episode that have very similar themes as this story does. I just have thought about it a lot from every angle, and it seems to be the logical direction a Fitzsimmons conversation would take after the events of this episode. So, if you see any similarities in this story to anything else you've read, please know this is not meant to be a copy-cat story by any means, it just means that a lot of writers saw this as the obvious next step or felt the episode needed this. Maybe in another dimension this scene was filmed and even made it onto the show. :) Enjoy
"Ugh!"
Simmons jerked awake, hearing a loud thud resound from the wall behind her head. After quickly scanning the room for intruders, she relaxed her grip on the Night Night Gun she had automatically grabbed out of her bedside drawer upon awaking.
Shortly after she and Fitz had completed their work on the gun prototypes, he had knocked on her door late one night and handed her a smaller version, specifically designed to fit her hand. He hadn't said much, just walked her through its features and use, even though she of course knew everything about the gun.
"Just, Jemma, could you…" He had said quietly, ducking his eyes to the ground as he left her room that night, "Uh… Keep it somewhere nearby, yeah? Just in case."
His eyes had been so piercing and serious, so unlike Fitz's usual demeanor that Simmons had immediately nodded, remembering his comments after Dr. Hall's death, and the subsequent promise she had made to herself to make sure he always knew he made her feel safe.
"Thank you, Fitz," she had said quietly, squeezing his hand and smiling.
The nod and tight smile he had returned showed her she had reacted satisfactorily.
Another thud and grumble of anger behind her wall jolted Simmons back to the present and made her resume her tight grip on the gun, rushing from her room into Fitz's next door, where the commotion was coming from.
"Fitz?" She asked, bewildered.
The engineer froze at the noise, turning from where he seemed to be methodically pulling random books from his bookshelf and throwing them on the floor or across the room. "Simmons?" He asked, his voice equally bewildered, staring at her with a look Simmons didn't recognize.
After a moment, Simmons understood. She had pulled the gun when she ran into Fitz's room to investigate the disturbance and was still standing in firing stance, both hands on the gun with arms raised. And, Simmons realized, flushing, she was wearing her favorite ratty tank to sleep in paired with some very short pajama shorts.
Swallowing her embarrassment, it's not like Fitz wasn't a scientist just as she was and hadn't seen the human body before, Simmons focused on what was most likely actually capturing Fitz's attention - the gun pointed at him. She slowly lowered the gun and placed it on the desk near the open door.
"Sorry, I just," she shrugged, trying to play off her overreaction to what was Fitz clearly just have a mini temper tantrum. "Got a little carried away, I suppose." She smiled at Fitz again, trying to diffuse the tense situation. "In my defense, I thought you were fighting someone in here or something."
"Oh," Fitz said, looking at the pile of books against the wall between their rooms and winced, "Oh, Simmons, I'm really sorry, I wasn't even think-"
"It's okay, Fitz," Simmons cut him off, hurrying over to him and laying a hand on his arm, smiling gently. "What's wrong?"
Fitz shot her another apologetic look before frowning and kicking at the ground. "It's just," he grumbled, eyes downward, "I can't believe Skye would betray us like this."
"Aw, Fitz," Jemma said softly, rubbing her hand along his arm comfortingly, "I'm sorry. I know you liked her," she said, mentally cursing herself the moment the words passed her lips. She should not have used this vulnerable moment to verify her own hypothesis.
Fitz's head shot up, alarm in his eyes, "No!" He exclaimed loudly, then glanced at the open door and brought the volume down. "No," he said again, whispering this time.
Jemma eyed him, her soothing motion paused.
"Well," the engineer started to crumble under her all-knowing look, "I mean, I'll admit that at first I was, ah…" He paused, ducking his eyes and rubbing behind his ear in embarrassment as he tried to find the word, "Intrigued, maybe, but it's become clear she has no scientific prowess, so it would never have amounted to anything," he admitted, flushing slightly.
Simmons just nodded and smiled understandingly, encouraging him to continue and trying to ignore the twinge of something that had shot through her stomach at Fitz's confirmation. She reminded herself that he was speaking in the past tense and relief replaced most of that feeling.
Pushing aside the uneasy feelings, telling herself she would revisit what all of that meant later, Simmons spoke again. "Then what's this all about?"
"I just feel... betrayed." Fitz finally said, looking at his partner. "I thought we were part of a team. It was starting to feel like we were almost a..."
"Family?" Simmons prompted, knowing exactly what Fitz was thinking, as usual.
"Yeah," Fitz nodded.
"I know," Simmons said, her face reflecting his disappointment. She, too, had felt the harsh sting of Skye's apparent betrayal when they discovered the truth about her connection to Miles. She walked the pair over to Fitz's bed so they could sit on the edge. "But then I realized... They have a history together."
Fitz snorted, "So?"
"Well..." Simmons started, releasing her grip on Fitz's arm and clasping her hands together in her lap, bracing herself for his reaction, "Imagine you were on a mission your whole life to find out what happened to your father -"
"Why would I ever care what happened to that bast-"
"Just imagine it, Ftiz," Simmons cut him off, barreling through the scenario she had constructed in her mind earlier that day to deal with the afternoon's events, "Imagine that was your life-long mission. And along the way your life went on as it always has, and you met me, and we became best friends. And since I've become your partner on nearly everything, I would partner up with you on your mission to find your father, as well."
Fitz remained unconvinced, still watching her suspiciously.
"And then one day you have the opportunity to join the team of people who are directly related to your fathers' disappearance," Simmons continued.
"He didn't disappear, he left," Fitz interjected. "I watched it, remember - yeah, yeah, I'll be quiet," he said, waving off Simmons' look of frustration.
"So of course you would join the team, because that would be the logical next step to find information," Simmons continued. "And lets say you've finally found the information you've been searching for. What do you do? Reach out to me to continue the mission, or stay with your new team and drop contact with me?"
"Contact you, of course," Fitz said, his eyes widening in understanding. "I would never drop you, you know that, right?"
Simmons sighed, "Obviously. But you see my point?"
"Yeah... I guess so," Fitz relented. "But you and I never dated," he said, pointing out the one flaw in Simmons' logic.
Simmons gave him a peculiar look. "Yes, I'm very aware of that Fitz."
"But I suppose, since they did - were - ah... they dated," Fitz said, tripping over the words that hinted at his embarrassment, "That's all the more reason not to drop contact."
Simmons nodded.
The two pair sat in companionable silence for a moment, then Fitz rose and walked towards his desk, picking up Simmons' gun.
"You like it then?" He asked hopefully, a self-satisfied grin breaking through his glum exterior.
Simmons laughed, glad for the change of subject. "Of course, Fitz! It's perfect! I was actually even thinking... When I woke up because I heard you hitting the wall-"
"Sorry about that."
"It's fine," she dismissed, "I grabbed the gun immediately because I was disoriented from just waking, and wasn't able to identify where the sound originated. Wouldn't it be great if there were some way for me to identify where a sound came from, instantly?"
Fitz placed the gun back down and joined her back on the bed, crossing his legs and grabbing a pencil and well-worn notepad from his bedside table. "Yeah, that would be great, some sort of glasses or something that helped you see sound instead of just hear it?"
"It would be perfect! Think of all the applications it could have in the field - agents rushing into rooms hear gunfire but can't properly identify where it's coming from, or if someone is kidnapped and they hear screams but it's hard to tell what door they're behind, or," Fitz rambled, quickly flipping through the notepad's pages until he came to an old sketch of heat signature glasses he had worked on months ago.
"Yes! Something like your heat signature glasses, but they indicate to the wearer sound and heat since sometimes heat signatures can't travel through so many walls and certain metals," Simmons added excitedly.
The pair got absorbed in their work, throwing ideas back and forth for hours, breaking only when Fitz's phone beeped for his morning alarm. They smiled at one another, the night reminding them of so many successful nights of invention at the academy.
Simmons took it as her cue to leave. "Well, I should probably go. I think I may have to skip a shower this morning in favor of a quick cat nap," she whispered jokingly.
"I won't tell anyone if you don't," Fitz agreed, smiling as she stood. They walked to his door together and he handed her the gun. His eyes widened in sudden panic, "Oh no! We got so caught up in the sound glasses we didn't solve the initial problem - you can't sleep wearing glasses." The scientist looked crestfallen and Simmons opened her mouth to reassure him that it was fine, but then he continued, "Oh, wait, no, it's fine. I can just install the same material in the lens as a sheet on your walls so you can just see noise reflected on the walls."
"Perfect," Simmons agreed, taking the gun from him and heading out.
"See you at the meeting soon," Fitz said smiling, going to shut his door, but Simmons stuck her hand out to catch it quickly.
"Fitz?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"You know... What you said earlier. We are family, you know that, right? Even if SHIELD falls down around us?"
Fitz looked at Simmons for one achingly long moment with such affection in his eyes that the biochemist almost blushed.
"I know, Jemma."
