"He implied that I was getting preferential treatment at the station, Skye."

"Yeah, that asshole!" Skye hummed distractedly in agreement, fingers flying over her laptop keys as she tapped at her earpiece. "You can't help it if you're awesome and popular."

"He thinks I'm only popular because I showed my bum on television!"

"You do have a pretty great ass." At Jemma's annoyed look, Skye put up her hands. "Not the point, I get it."

"He accused me of flirting with him."

"Ugh, of course he did. You know, the minute girls say hi, guys are like," Skye crossed her eyes, stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and wobbled her head. Jemma succumbed slightly to her friend's attempts at cheering her, and Skye, seeing her smile, turned off her Bluetooth and leaned forward with a conspiratorial look. "Okay, about Fitz? I heard he was trying to make it as an inventor when his work Visa ran out, and Mack had to offer him a job just so he could stay in the country. Okay?"

"I'm not sure I understand what..."

"I'm saying, he might think he's this big fish who's better than everyone because of some fancy degree, but actually, he's just another small-town guppy who couldn't hack it once he got to the ocean." Skye paused, a tiny frown wiggling in between her brows. "Or something. Marine life metaphors aren't my thing- anyway." She was back to staring at Jemma. "Don't waste your energy on him."

Skye was right, she decided - she should be focusing on other things, other people. Seeing that Skye was once again engrossed in putting out various fires, Jemma took the opportunity to pull up the MoreThanThat app on her phone, browsing the list of potential candidates and their pictures. The dating service had never really worked out for her - most of the men she met simply couldn't hold her interest after a few dinners - but since she'd moved, there was a host of new possibilities to explore in Treehouse Falls and the larger nearby city, Triskelion Heights.

Hmm… Kenneth Turgeon, Sunil Bakshi, Truman Shaw, Grant Ward… Jasper Sitwell. That last one looked promising - stocky, confident, absolutely gorgeous head. She blew out her cheeks, however, when she saw their compatibility rating: only 46%. And on closer inspection, he seemed to exhibit a strange predilection towards elbows. Probably for the best, Jemma sighed, and closed the app.

"Fitz, what did you do?" Mack hung up the phone and turned disappointed brown eyes on his friend.

During his life, Fitz'd had more than enough reasons to master the innocent-but-offended look. "I haven't the foggiest."

"You mouthed off to the executive manager at the TV station? I gotta see those people again, man."

With a defensive scowl, Fitz pushed back from the desk where he was tinkering and started gesticulating. "Well it isn't as if I had a choice! That Jemma's a devil woman. We've got to stop her."

"Whoa, there, Turbo. Hit pause for a second." Mack moved to stand in front of him, brow slightly furrowed and one hand out. "Why you getting so worked up about this girl?"

"She's ruining our business, Mack, that you started! I should think you'd be more concerned!"

"Our business'll be fine, man, I told you. We just gotta lay low, not get into any fights," he gave Fitz a significant look, "and do a good job, same as we always do. Last I checked, she doesn't rent out party equipment, right?"

"Yes, but the biggest edge we have over our competitors is that they can come to us for the whole experience - setup, entertainment, break down. The start-to-finish party bundle. If they start hiring Captain Chemistry to do the show, what's to stop them going to Rent-a-Center for their tables and chairs, or getting some kids from the Theater Department at the high school to wire their lights? I'm tellin' you, we've got to do something about her."

Mack sighed. "So maybe she does a few more birthdays than you. What's the big deal? I thought you wanted to focus on your drone project; you're always saying this whole magician gig's just temporary anyway."

Fitz looked at him as if he'd grown antlers. "Well I can't just let her win, Mack."

Jemma sat on the park bench, letting the wind ruffle her hair. The day was mild, and, like a happy lizard, she let herself bake decadently in the midmorning sun. Skye was right, she'd been letting this rivalry get to her, and she deserved a break. Tipping her head back and closing her eyes, she jolted a bit at the feel of a wet, whuffly nose in her palm.

"Oh, hello, sweetheart! Aren't you a cute one!" Jemma looked around for the dog's owner, but didn't spot anyone who seemed particularly concerned. "Let's just get a peek at your tags, shall we? Quinoa, that's an unusual name… Well, Quinoa, do you want to sit up on the bench with me? Yes you do! Yes you do!"

Jemma clapped her hands on her thighs, encouraging the terrier mix to hop up next to her. The pup wasted no time settling himself on her lap and pushing his head into her midriff, tickling.

"What do you… oh, you smell the wrapper from my breakfast, don't you? Hmm," Jemma regarded the little dog in mock thoughtfulness. "I don't know, Quinoa, I'm fairly sure your owner wouldn't want you eating a bacon croissant. It might ruin you for all other foods."

The cuteness of Quinoa's imploring gaze was matched only by his head tilt, ear quirk, and the long-suffering wheeze he let escape through his underbite.

"Oh, go on then, you little mountebank." She broke off a crumb and let him lick it delicately from her fingers. "Not too much, now, you're already a bit portly."

"Hey!" Jemma's head whipped at the sound of an angry Scottish protest. "You! Hands off that dog!"

She rolled her eyes. So much for avoiding Leopold Fitz. "That dog came over because he was clearly being ignored. And you shouldn't just let him run around like that - what if something happened?"

"Is that a threat? Christ's sake, I know you don't like me, but that's low, even for you."

Jemma flung exasperated hands upwards. "Fitz! I was not threatening your dog."

"She's not my dog, all right?" Fitz bent to pick up a discarded soda bottle, mumbling, "And I honestly don't know what you're capable of." He chucked the trash into a nearby bin with a bit more force than might have been strictly necessary.

"Fine. Suit yourself." She picked up the creature and returned him - her - unceremoniously. Quinoa didn't seem too upset by the hand-off, judging from the way she licked Fitz's face, thoroughly and enthusiastically, as soon as it was in range.

Fitz inclined his head in what might have been a grudging thanks. Yet, when he walked away, she could hear him start up a peevish ramble, the volume fading as he moved farther on. "C'mon, Quinoa, let's get you away from her before she tries to use you in an experiment. Honestly, who does she think she is - portly; don't listen to that, you're perfect. She's portly. And jealous. She's a jealous, portly, wrinkly old hag..."

Author's Notes:

Sitwell's elbow thing is a reference to my beta amandajbruce's fic "Law & Order: MCU" - it's awesome, and you should check it out!