"Simmons?"
Jemma heard Fitz's tentative voice calling to her from outside her bunk room door, accompanied by a soft knock. Frowning, she quickly saved the notes she was typing up on her laptop.
"Come in?!" She called, a question more than a statement. Since when did Fitz knock or ask permission before barging into her room?
"Yeah, I ah - .." She heard Fitz mumble as something bumped into the door. "I might need some help with that."
"Oh!" The biologist cried, jumping up and running to the door. She opened it to see her partner struggling to hold numerous grocery bags and free up a hand to reach for the doorknob. "Oh, Fitz!" She admonished, grabbing two of the bags closest to her in an effort to lighten his load.
She led them in the room, depositing the plastic bags on the side of her desk. Fitz followed her in, setting his bags next to hers and then turning her back to her, quickly emptying their contents onto her desk.
"And can I ask exactly what it is you're doing, or would you just like me to sit back while you commandeer my desk for your own use?" Simmons asked, amused. She perched on the edge of her bed, just behind where he was standing, and peered over his shoulders. "Fitz!" She gasped, seeing him pull her very favorite, and very expensive, bottle of wine out of the bag.
"What are you…" She trailed off, watching as he continued to pull out some fruit, some cheese slices and crackers, and a package of her favorite cookies. The engineer narrowed his eyes in concentration as he painstakingly began to organize all the bite-size snacks on a plate she recognized from the Bus's kitchen set.
"Okay, Fitz!" She finally said, loudly, standing up again and resting her hand on Fitz's arm, stopping his worrying over the food. "What is going on?" She asked, her stare drilling into his eyes when he finally looked at her.
His glance was fleeting, though, as he ducked his eyes almost immediately after making eye contact with her, and turned to cross her room. Nestled between a handful of her favorite fiction books, framed photographs, and various momentos that Jemma had held on to over the years was a decorative wine glass Jemma had received from one of her girlfriends for her 21st birthday. It was one of those hand-painted ones covered in sequins and bright colors, and not particularly Jemma-like at all, really, but the memories associated with the friend who got it for her made her hang onto it.
Fitz swiped the glass off the shelf and wiped it clean of dust with a napkin he produced from his back pocket, then set the glass next to the wine bottle, situated behind the tray of food.
"Is it my birthday?" Jemma joked, crossing her arms uncomfortably. Behaving oddly was so commonplace for Fitz that it was no longer odd to her - it was just part of her partner's personality. And he was such a romantic at heart, he had occasionally gotten carried away for birthdays or other celebrations. Though she would never say it out loud, Jemma suspected that since he wasn't great with words, Fitz chose to show his affection with gifts like this and spending time planning surprises he knew his friends would enjoy. So it wasn't the first time Fitz had surprised her with a delicious array of goodies or presents. But it was the first time she could recall that he had done so without any reason. And it was especially disconcerting how he was moving so mechanically and still refusing to meet her eyes.
"Fitz, are you… Is something… What's wrong?" She stuttered, her concern now growing into worry. Fitz busied himself with sticking his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, then took a deep breath as though stealing himself to deliver bad news.
Her heart suddenly plummeted.
"Are you… Are you leaving?" She whispered, eyes wide and already starting to water.
He couldn't do that. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave SHIELD, not after all the years and years of work he'd put in, how could he?! He never would! SHIELD needed his brain, he knew that! And forget SHIELD, he couldn't leave her! How dare he even consider it! They were a team, they were together till the end, he couldn't possibly think she would be okay with him leaving, why would she? What was she supposed to do now? Where would she go? Would she leave too? What would happen to their work? Who would she bounce ideas off of? Who would she talk to about her day? Who would she… Who would be her… Fitz was her… He was…
"Jemma!"
Fitz's voice, suddenly loud and harsh, broke through her thoughts, "Calm down, I'm not going anywhere." He dropped the hands she hadn't even noticed bracing her shoulders. He ducked his eyes again once her attention was back on him and started playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. "I just wanted to say… Um, well… I'm sorry."
Jemma stared at him, confused again. "Sorry?"
"For listening to Lorelei," she heard him quietly mumble.
"I'm sorry?" The biochemist asked, still confused. What was Fitz talking about?
"For listening to Lorelei," he repeated, louder this time and more sure of himself, looking up to once again meet his partner's eyes. "I'm sorry. For listening to Lorelei and letting her influence me." He stared off into the distance for a moment, almost talking to himself. "I mean, it's unbelievable, really. I truly can't believe that I let her take over my brain like that."
Finally catching on to what was going on, Jemma incredulously stared at Fitz for a long moment before bursting into laughter. When he flinched in guilt at her reaction, she tried to reign in her laughter, but it just increased the hilarity of the situation to her. Soon enough she was laughing so hard that tears started to escape out of the corners of her eyes.
When she was finally able to get it together and the laughter started to wind down, Jemma reached out to her partner and laid a hand on his arm. "Oh, Fitz," she sighed, lovingly looking at her best friend. He really was the most adorable genius. "You know as well as I do that there was absolutely nothing you could do to resist! And stop saying you 'let her' take over your brain - you did no such thing! She just took control, whether you let her or not. I mean, really. Ward - who has been trained for years to resist torture and brain control - not only couldn't resist but went so far as to help her escape!"
Simmons smiled sweetly, lightly rubbing Fitz's arm in comfort. "If anything, it just proves once more how much stronger your brain is than Ward's. She was barely able to manipulate you - just asking you for a small favor, really."
Fitz snorted, still not buying it. "Yeah, but just the idea of how she took over my brain. She had me going on and on, spouting her praises like some lovesick fool! Like my entire world revolved around her!"
Simmons rolled her eyes, not seeing what the big deal was. "So? That's what she does!"
"Yeah, but I… She shouldn't have been able to do that. My entire world does not revolve around her."
"I certainly hope not."
"No, no! I mean… Ugh!" Fitz practically growled, frustrated.
Simmons crinkled her forehead, confused. Fitz usually had no problem communicating with her. Most of the time, she knew what he was going to say before he said it. But lately, it seemed as though there was something she didn't understand about him.
"What I mean to say is… My entire world doesn't revolve around her, it… You…" He huffed again, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. "She shouldn't have been able to block out my thoughts of everyone else, is what I mean. I didn't like it. I wasn't myself and I didn't have control of my thoughts and I rely on my brain more than the average person and I really didn't like it."
Simmons nodded, finally understanding.
"She blocked out all thoughts of you. And of - of the team. I put you in danger. I can't believe I put you in danger," he says, softly swearing and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm so sorry, Jemma."
Simmons' eyes widened, shocked by the seriousness of his tone. "Oh, Fitz, I was never in any danger! Not really, I mean. I was just temporarily quarantined - but it was in a safe environment and I still had full control of my facilities! There weren't even any men around, so I was extra safe. It was mostly the men who were immediately threatened, of course.
"I suppose," she continued, lost in thought, "I was in danger in the sense that the entire planet was in danger, should Lorelei have succeeded in her plan. But there were still several layers of SHIELD teams, and then ultimately the Avengers would've been called in, including Thor himself, that would almost have certainly prevented that from ever happen-"
"Still." Fitz's voice was firm, interrupting her. "I know Lorelei taking over the world was a near impossibility. But still," he insisted. "I put you in danger. I chose her happiness over your safety. Over all of our safety," he corrected quickly.
Simmons cocked an eyebrow at his statement, finally starting to understand. Ever since her very close brush with death and resulting impromptu skydiving exercise, Fitz had been slightly different around her. She realized now it always had to do with her safety. He must still feel a little guilt - completely unnecessary guilt - about not being the one to grab her after she jumped.
Jemma opened her mouth, about to set him straight, when Skye walked past her bunk, spying the tray of food and wine spread out on her desk.
"Ooh, throwing a party without me?" She teased, poking her head in.
Simmons laughed, trying to relax the seriousness in the room a bit. "Fitz feels bad for letting the team down," she explained to Skye, grinning broadly as she looked at her partner. "Even though I told him he couldn't possibly be held responsible for his actions."
Skye looked from Simmons' too-innocent smile to Fitz, seeing the engineer shifting uncomfortably and crossing his arms. Oops. She had definitely just interrupted something.
Seeing an opportunity to tease the most easily embarrassed member of their crew, Skye smiled. "Oh! So when's my apology wine party, huh Fitzy?
Fitz started, his face quickly flushing red as he ran a hand behind one ear. "Ah - I, ah… Well, you can of course help yourself…" He stuttered, but Skye was already laughing as she walked down the hall.
"I like beer more than wine, Fitz!" She shouted, her voice echoing back into the room. "And none of that snooty European stuff you all drink, or hipstery craft beer. I like good ole American Budweiser. You hear that, Fitz? I expect my apology party to have Budweiser!"
