Hey everyone! Sorry it took a while to update, but I'm super proud of this next chapter, so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!

And now onto the story...enjoy!

I own none of the characters from SHIELD.

"On three," she confirmed

"1...2...3," they said together.

And they jumped.

Two loud thumps were heard, then a crunch, and some loud cursing by a Scotsman.

"Ah bloody-" Fitz complained loudly. "Jemma, are you ok?" Fitz said, turning around to face her. She had slowly started to pick herself up. Luckily, she had just missed the gravel, and was not injured, just most likely very, very bruised.

"I'm ok, I'll be hurting tomorrow though, you?" she said, as she picked herself up.

"Well, I've been better," he said in a pained voice, "I landed on the gravel with one hand," he said, as he lifted up a bloody hand.

"Oh Leo!" Jemma said, jumping up to examine it. "You poor thing. I can clean this up for you."

"Not now, we need to move. Later—when we put some distance between us and this train."

They quickly started speed walking towards a small town in the distance. It was very late, or very early, depending on how you looked at it. It was around 5am, the streets were deserted, but luckily Jemma was able to find a small pharmacy, where she bought some medical supplies. Then, they checked into a tiny bed and breakfast, which was luckily open all night.

Simmons set to work on Fitz's battered skin. She worked in the dimly lit room, and Fitz tried to keep as silent as possible as she picked out the tiny pieces of rock that had embedded itself in his skin.

He made a pained sound as she dug out a larger piece, and she flinched upon hearing it.

"I'm so sorry Leo, I'm being as gentle as I can." She said, feeling his pain.

"I know Jems, it just hurts like a-OW!" he yelled as she extracted the final piece. "Bloody hell!" he yelled again, his face twisted in agony.

Simmons pulled out the rubbing alcohol and looked at Fitz with a gentle look in her eye. "I'm not going to lie, Leo. This is really going to hurt. It's a deep gash. It's going to be worse than that time at the Academy." Fitz shivered upon hearing this, remembering when one of his experiments had gone awry and Simmons had to patch him up as well.

"Shit," he mumbled. "Do it."

She opened the container, took a deep breath, and poured it over his open wound. Fitz was surprisingly quiet, but had made a fist so tight with his other hand, that his knuckles had whitened, and he looked as if he could punch through a brick wall. His eyes were closed and he realized it hurt way more than at the Academy. His eyes popped open when he felt a coolness amongst the burning, giving him some relief. Simmons was lightly blowing on the wound, and Fitz felt himself completely mesmerized by the woman in front of him.

Simmons looked up at him, "better?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah..." he said, his eyes glued to her face.

She finished cleaning the wound, and proceeded to lightly wrap his hand in gauze. When she finished, she brought her lips to his patched hand, and gently pressed a kiss to it, sending shivers down his spine.

"All done," she said, as she tried to read his face.

"You're the best Jems," he said tenderly, memorizing every speck of color in her eyes, as she gave him a million dollar smile, that smile he cherished so much.

The situation was this: they didn't know where they were, Fitz was injured, they had no means of getting to Paris, no way to contact the team safely, and they were completely and utterly in love with one another. The weight of all this crashed down on them at the same time.

"Jemma," Fitz said, so softly, that she wished he would say her name like that forever. She looked deep into his eyes and she saw...love? Simmons wasn't sure about much in her life anymore, but the way he looked at her made her feel like her feelings for Fitz weren't one-sided after all, but she couldn't be sure.

"Leo..." was all she said, and they stared at one another, not realizing that they had been moving towards each other, like two opposite Magnets, inevitably meeting, absolutely no point in resisting.

Neither of them were thinking anymore, their bodies were moving of their own accord, until they were merely a breath away from each other, their hearts hammering in their chests.

Their breath was heavy, no turning back now.

Both their eyes fluttered closed as their lips met. So softly, they brushed against one another. They were both confused, and scared, and is this part of the cover? I don't care, ran through their minds. Then, their hands were on each other's faces, pulling each other close. They kissed each other like they had been starved of one another for centuries, trying to make up for lost time. They captured the others lips in their own, over and over again, trying to satisfy the deep need they had repressed for so long. Neither of them knew what to think, all they cared about was how right it felt to hold each other.

They were interrupted by a knock at their door, and they sprang apart, neither of them looking at each other.

"Damn interruptions," Fitz cursed under his breath. "Every single bloody time."

Simmons ran to the door, flustered, embarrassed, lips slightly swollen, and opened the door.

"Um...yes?" she said, very awkwardly.

The host responded with a thick accent, "breakfast ready."

Fitz and Simmons made their way downstairs for breakfast and didn't look at each other. They were partially embarrassed, and partially worried that they'd jump each other if they did. They weren't ready to have that conversation, now was not the time.

Breakfast was awkward. Neither of them spoke the language, but their host did his best to create conversation.

"How many year married?" he asked with a smile.

"Uh," Fitz said, trying to remember their cover, "a year and a half."

"Ah, early marriage," he exclaimed, "It good, yes?"

"Yes, it's fantastic," Simmons said, trying to appease the man. All she wanted to do was get away from the table and run away from Fitz, or kiss him senseless. She wasn't sure which one she wanted more.

Things had changed between them, they were both very aware of that now. They had just kissed-very passionately too, in the confines of their bedroom, where their cover should not have been present. A million questions raced through their minds.

Later, after breakfast, when they thought it best to take a nap, and were both pretending to be asleep on opposite sides of the bed, Simmons compared their kiss to that of someone dying of thirst, and finally having access to water – complete and utter bliss.

Simmons woke first from their nap. They were not cuddling, but instead facing each other, with Fitz's arm thrown lazily over her hip. She took a moment to let her eyes wander over Fitz's sleeping form, taking in his deep breaths, his long eyelashes, and the way that he looked so utterly perfect in her eyes. After taking more than a few moments to stare at him, she discreetly detached herself from him, not wanting to wake him and have another awkward situation.

She now understood her feelings for him, there was no denying it now. Even if she did, she would only cause herself pain in the process.

I love him. I love Fitz, she thought. I'm in love with my best friend. But there was no way she would admit it now. There were far too many difficulties that came with that, and they had far too much to worry about at the current moment, namely, getting back to the team without getting killed. After, she thought. I will tell him how I feel when all this is done.

Her hands touched her lips, remembering how Fitz had caressed them with his so passionately, earlier that morning, and how his hands, even his injured one, had held her face to his so tightly. Her heart quickened at the thought.

After Fitz woke, they quickly got ready to depart, but neither mentioned anything about the kiss. It was like an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't discuss what happened, even though all they wanted to do was grab the other, and kiss them for the rest of their lives.

They left the bed and breakfast hand in hand, cover fully intact, with too many emotion and questions to comprehend, so they opted for silence instead. They wandered the small town hoping for some direction, then finally sat down on a small bench, feeling defeated.

Simmons looked down at their intertwined hands, seeing how perfectly they fit together, and her gaze followed the curve of his arm up to his face.

"Leo...what are we going to do?" She asked earnestly.

He knew she was referring about how to get to Paris, but he couldn't help but imagine she was asking about them and the interesting turn their relationship had taken that morning.

"I don't know Jems," he said, feeling down. "These guys seem to know an awful lot about us, and I'm worried. That guy from the train could be in this town for all we know." He looked down towards their linked hands as well. "At least we have each other. And together, FitzSimmons are unstoppable," he said with a small smile, and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

"Ok!" Simmons said, jumping up from the bench. "We need to get to Paris. How?" she said, trying to bring the enthusiasm of working in the lab, to the present situation.

Fitz jumped up too, "you're right. No more moping. Think Fitz," he said to himself as he paced. "Think," he paced some more. "First of all, we need to find someone who speaks English," he paused for a moment, "Or Romanian," he said, giving Simmons a wink, with her face reddening in the process, "to help us out. Also, we need more cash," he said, feeling guilty. Neither of them wanted to steal from the cash machine, but they literally had no other option. They agreed that once they were back on the BUS, they would find a way to anonymously reimburse the bank in Romania, and this small town.

After Fitz hacked another cash machine, they set to work trying to find someone who spoke English. That proved to be difficult in a small rural town, but they were eventually pointed in the direction of someone who could help.

A young woman brought them to a bus stop that would bring them to the closest major city, where they would be able to arrange transportation to Paris.

Since the kiss, they were both very aware that they were no longer the same FitzSimmons as before. Yes, they had been wrapped up in the moment, but there had been genuine love behind their actions. Even though neither of them would admit it to each other at the moment, they were anxiously waiting to return to the BUS and finally have a normal chance at being together, without the pressure and intensity of a dangerous situation.

Two hours later, they were on a bus and had fallen asleep on each other.

The train they fled had emergency stopped in a small town outside of Belgrade, Serbia, and they were now on a bus that would bring them to the Serbia/Croatia border. Ideally, they would be in Paris by now, but apparently Sharon and her men had different plans. They had to throw them off their trail, and going a direct route to Paris was not an option. Not if they wanted to get attacked again. Sharon surely had her men waiting at all the logical routes. They could not get caught again.

"Sir, we have confirmation that FitzSimmons were in Romania," Ward said, walking into the meeting room.

"Where?" Coulson said, jumping up from his chair.

"Skye has been running a facial recognition program, and there were seen in Bucharest," he said, "they were...hacking a cash machine..." he added slowly.

"I taught Fitz that," Skye said proudly as she strode into the room.

"That's a federal offense, Skye," Coulson said, as the smile fell from Skye's face. "However, knowing FitzSimmons, they would only do that if it were absolutely necessary," and he gave her a small smile, which Skye mirrored.

"We need to find a way to contact them." May said, as she rounded the corner.

"Well," Coulson started, "They know protocol. They are SHIELD agents, and know they can't call from an insecure line. They'd probably head to the closest SHIELD headquarters."

"That's in Paris," said May, as she pulled up a map.

A small beeping sound filled the room, and Skye jumped to the computer. "That would be my search!" she said, looking at the results. "They were also spotted getting on a train to Paris!" she said, excitement filling her every pore.

"Fantastic!" Coulson said, as he clapped his hands together, "May, bring us to Paris, and –" Skye cut him off.

"Problem," she said, suddenly serious. "I just looked up their train schedule, and the train they were on had an emergency stop. According to the report, two British people destroyed a train compartment." and she moved to show them a picture of the shattered window frame, then continued, "One Scottish male, and one English female escaped."

She took a breath before the next part.

"There's a warrant for their arrest."

The whole team fell silent. It was Ward who broke it.

"Where did the train stop?" Ward asked.

"The countryside in Serbia, a ways out from Belgrade. No major cities in the area, all small villages." She said, fear increasing by every passing moment.

Ward shook his head, "This is bad. They could be anywhere. Sir..." Ward said, as he looked up at Coulson, "any ideas?"

Coulson thought for a moment before speaking. "Well, it sounds like they're being chased. What other reason would they have for pulling the emergency stop and breaking out of a train? They're being chased and trying to throw someone off their trail. That has to be it." He said.

May spoke up this time, "They won't take another direct route to Paris, they're too smart for that. We most likely won't be able to determine their route, but we have to be ready for them when they show up. Skye, keeping running facial recognition."

Skye nodded and began typing at her computer, when she suddenly stopped. "Guys...they have a picture of FitzSimmons boarding the train in Romania. The warrant is live."

Coulson sighed, "all we can do for now, is keeping running facial recognition. They're smart. They'll keep their heads down. Everyone be ready to act when it's time."

The team started to dissipate from the room, except for Skye and Ward. Ward watched as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She looked upset.

"You ok, rookie?"

"No. No I'm not Ward." She said plainly, with tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to fall.

He moved towards her, concern crossing her eyes, "what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she said in disbelief, "what's wrong? Really Ward? FitzSimmons!" she exclaimed loudly. "Am I the only one who's terrified for them?"

Ward froze, then calmly spoke. Skye was visibly upset, and he wasn't the best with words. "Skye, they'll be ok. They're SHIELD trained, they can make it through this."

"But Ward-!" she started as he cut her off.

"But nothing Skye. Listen to me." He said as he moved closer, placing his hand on hers that was resting on the table, "FitzSimmons are geniuses. Literal geniuses. They might not be the best with people, but they will take care of each other and get out of this," he said as gently as possible, looking her in the eye. "Those two would go to the ends of the earth to protect each other. You know that. They'll be ok."

Ward may have not been good with words, but this was one of the rare times that he said the perfect thing at the perfect time.

Skye looked at him for a moment, then rushed forward and threw her arms around him, tightly hugging him. He momentarily froze. He couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged, and he realized now that he missed this feeling. He slowly brought his arms around her, comforting her.

"It's just that—" she started, as she spoke into his chest, "they're like a brother and sister to me. The brother and sister I never had."

"It'll be ok Skye. Don't worry, they're smart." He said as he rubbed her back lightly and hugged her tighter.

Fitz woke when the bus hit a bump, but Simmons was still asleep. He wove his fingers through her hair and thanked Darwin that they were both still ok. They had far too many close calls and dangers for his liking, and was worried that their luck would run out soon.

When Simmons woke, she angled her head to look up at Fitz, and found he was already looking at her. Brown met blue, and swirled in a dance of emotion.

"Morning beautiful," he said with the most sincere look in his eyes.

She beamed up at him. This isn't for the cover, she thought, this feels real. Please be real, she begged, not sure who or what she was begging to.

"Morning handsome," she replied, and she meant it. The wild/backpacking look suited him. He didn't look so proper as he usually did, his Scottish stubble had risen, and he looked absolutely stunning in her eyes. She felt as if she had lost control of her hand, as it moved to caress his cheek and moved down to his jaw line, where her fingers slid over the rough patch of hair. Fitz couldn't take his eyes off her. So much intensity passed through them that he felt as if he would explode.

Kiss me Fitz, oh please kiss me, she thought, desperately wanting to feel his lips on hers again, even though she knew it was a bad idea.

Fitz leaned over and placed a firm kiss on her cheek, and let his lips hover there for longer than necessary. They breathed each other in, their breath lighting the other's skin on fire. She thanked God that Fitz hadn't gone and kissed her like she hoped for, because she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself.

Soon, they both thought, soon.

They firmly held hands, hoping it would give them some respite from the burning in their hearts and the desire to break down the barrier that had been in place for so many years. They discussed the plan.

"So we get to the Croatian border," Simmons started.

"Then get to the coast of Croatia somehow," Fitz said.

"Take a ferry from Croatia to Italy-"

"Get to Rome-"

"Take a train from Rome to Paris."

They both took a moment to think about all the variables of their plan, and all the things that could possibly go wrong.

"That's really complicated," Fitz said

"At least it should keep us out of harm's way. Hopefully." Simmons said,

"This is so crazy," Fitz said, shaking his head. "How did we get into this?"

"By pretending to be a married couple?" Simmons said, lightly elbowing him in the shoulder. "Apparently we're really bad at it."

Fitz looked up at her in disbelief. "Both you and I know that's not true Jemma."

She looked his square in the eyes, "What do you mean?"

"We make a perfect couple." He said, then quickly added, "married couple," then quickly added again, "pretend married couple."

Simmons' heart leapt at his admission, and even though he was stumbling over his words, and trying to cover his tracks, she knew he meant every word.

Shit Fitz, what is wrong with you? He mentally scolded himself. Might as well tell her you love her while you're at it, you idiot!

Simmons could see that Fitz was having an internal battle, and so she let it be. Now was not the time anyways.

A while later, Fitz and Simmons arrived at the Serbia/Croatia border and got on the fastest transportation to the coast. They had lost track of how many days they had been separated from the team, was it five...seven? More?

During their bus ride to the Croatian border, they brainstormed how they were going to continue forward.

"Jemma, they're looking for us. I know they are. Remember when Coulson went missing? We didn't sleep. We need to contact them somehow." Fitz said.

"But how? How can we contact them? It'll be at least a few more days before we get to Paris, and we haven't made contact." Jemma half asked, half stated.

"Well, Skye is probably running facial recognition. They may have spotted us already. But since we got off the train, none of the towns have had CCTV cameras on the streets, so they wouldn't have been able to follow our trail. We're on our own right now."

"What if—" Simmons started, but then shook her head, "no that's stupid. Nevermind."

"What Jems?" he asked, "You're never stupid, don't say that."

"What if we...contact the Rising Tide?"

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