"Okay, so y' just- careful!" Fitz's hand reached quickly to steady hers. "This is a prototype, mind, it's not that durable." Though, it wouldn't really bother him if she broke it. Then she'd have to owe me another favor, which… could be good. Maybe they'd rebuild it together; she could make some more suggestions. She'd be a perfect beta tester. Okay, he needed to stop that line of thinking before he ended up breaking his own drone and framing her for it.

Jemma startled a bit when his fingers landed on hers, glancing over. "I am being careful. Excuse me if I didn't spend my formative years flying remote control aeroplanes."

"No, you were probably far too busy doing your homework and thinking up extra rules for everything." Fitz gave her another sideways smile and watched her swallow, as their joined hands jiggled the joystick. Some yards away, Quinoa had joined forces with a small pack of assorted townspeople's dogs to chase down every wayward kibble.

"Gentle grip, now," he cautioned, letting his words blow across the fine hairs at the back of her neck - Is that glitter? - and making a mental note of how she shivered and stilled.

This was fun. He congratulated himself again on the brilliant notion of throwing Jemma off guard by flirting with her. A classic strategy, and one that would surely stack the odds in his favor the next time he needed the upper hand. Of course he hadn't planned on seeing her today, had simply meant to tease her over the phone in their usual way, but teasing Jemma in person was turning out to be a lot more entertaining. And it's so embarrassing for her!

It was becoming a bit of a game, to learn exactly what kind of responses he could coax out of her, how many times he could make her voice catch and her hands shake. Fitz was nothing if not thorough, and at the moment, he was curiously, methodically cataloguing the evidence of just how "cute" she found him. Cute, pffft. If by cute she means a Tazmanian Devil of raw sexuality.

"All right, give it a bit of a nudge. Y' can go faster than that. Might want t' get your hand all the way around." He was on a roll.

Jemma darted a quick look over, mildly scandalized. Oh, fine. He'd give the poor girl a break. Fitz stepped back and flopped back onto the bench. "You seem to have the hang of it. So, are you all set for next week?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, not taking her eyes off the drone. "It's going to be the best finale the Children's Day Spectacular has ever seen."

She'd only just moved to town that year! "How would you know?"

"Well, you didn't have me in charge before," she smiled.

This woman, I swear. "Was that your pitch when you begged Mayor Coulson to let you take it on?"

"Please, Fitz." She shot him a saucy grin. "The mayor called me."

Fitz shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Either way, if you're doing this, at some point you're gonna need a few pointers from a seasoned Children's Day veteran."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far."

He watched her flying the copter for a handful of seconds, lightly tracing his finger on the arm of the bench. "I'd be happy to offer you some tips. Maybe teach you a couple magic tricks, give y' some stage presence."

She narrowed her eyes in mock condescension. "I'm fairly sure I've got it." She angled the drone back and plucked it from the air before turning to him. "Although, I do have a two-year-old neighbor who's easily amused. You could show me a trick for her."

Whoa. Jemma "I know everything" Simmons was actually asking him to teach her something? Fitz's mind blipped through the possibilities at lightning speed before landing on the perfect choice. Assuming he could get through it without getting distracted, of course.

Come on, Fitz. Confidence. Right. "Get out your quarters." He pointed at her purse with his chin. "And prepare to be amazed."

"See, I've got four coins in my hand." He held them, palm up, so Jemma could see. Yes. She was definitely looking at the coins, despite the twitch in her thighs calling her a liar.

Fitz flipped his hand over and dropped the small stack of quarters into his other hand, opening his fist once so she could see the change still there. "Now I'm gonna put them in my pocket. Although in this case, we're gonna have to use your pocket."

He leaned forward and carefully slipped his hand into the pocket of her zip-up, and Jemma focused on keeping herself steady while he dropped the coins with a heavy clink. God, he's even more handsome up close.

Fitz had been uncharacteristically attentive that morning, even suggestive at times, and she would have loved to sit back and enjoy it. If only I weren't feeling so foul. As it was, though, her brain kept turning over reminders of her missed shower, ratty hair and coffee breath. Of all the luck, honestly. Jemma didn't believe in Murphy's law, but it did explain why Fitz would decide to invade her personal space the one time she saw him at less than her clean-and-pressed best. His scalpel-blue scrutiny, which might have been flatteringly welcome under different circumstances, only made her feel naked, and not in the nice way. Not in the way she'd perhaps like to be.

When Fitz plucked at the material on the front of her hoodie, pretending to pull out a coin despite their being no opening in the fabric, she could barely focus on the sultry smile he was sending her way. He was simply too close for comfort. And - a horrifying thought invaded - what if she'd started her period since that morning? If the smell of blood could attract sharks and bears… well, okay, that was a ridiculous argument, but Fitz was incredibly detail-oriented nonetheless. Dear god, no. Jemma needed a minute to herself. Now.

Fitz had known for some time that he enjoyed winding Jemma Simmons up, but armed with his new outlook, he was finding out just how much fun it was to make her turn red from blushing rather than anger.

At least, so he thought until he brushed his fingers against her jacket pocket, completing the magic trick, and Jemma coughed uncomfortably. Fitz's gaze immediately flew to her face, searching, but it was hard to read her expression behind the sunglasses and hat.

People cough. She'd asked him to show her this. It was fine. "Right," he carried on, "so now that you've seen it done at full speed, I'm going to break it down for you step by step, okay?" Fitz reached for her hand, dropping the quarters into it and curling his own around hers. "We start by-"
This time there was no mistaking it. Jemma flinched, shrugging her arm away and wriggling her hand out of his grasp. Shoulders hunched, she slapped the change onto the bench and mumbled out a hurried "Excuse me!" before jogging off towards the water fountain.

What in the seven Hells? Fitz's rib cage contracted like a salted slug as he began to calculate exactly how horribly he'd misinterpreted the entire situation. He'd assumed she was reacting to him based on attraction, but all at once he remembered her other voicemail, talking of the complete lack of dateable men in town. Was she including him among her options when she said that? Did she think of him that way at all? She certainly hadn't seemed to think they were compatible. Oh, God. She'd said she thought he was cute. Past tense. Oh, no. I've cocked this all up, haven't I? Retreat!

Fitz had been so sure he had the advantage in their little power dynamic, but if she really didn't think of him like that, then he'd just spent the last hour making an absolute fool of himself. Damn it. He dropped his face into his hands for a beat, then grabbed the drone control pad and started packing up. He needed to regroup, figure out the best way to save face after this fiasco.

"Fitz?"

He looked up to see her striding back, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm.

"Are you leaving?" She sounded… he didn't know.

Bugger all. Why had he ever thought he could read Jemma's signs well enough to tease her about them? Fitz shrugged, scratching at his jaw, and didn't look at her. "Just gettin' a bit too warm out here."

She stayed standing, brushing off a bit of oak tree debris that had landed on her yoga pants. "It is warm… and the drinking fountain reeked of old pond water." Her lips pursed in distaste.

Fitz grunted something noncommital, and clapped his hands, whistling to coax Quinoa back.

Her movement from the side of his vision caught his attention, and he turned his head to see her bent down, tying her sneaker. Oh, for the love of- Why in blazes was she doing that? His mind took an express train, unbidden, back to a certain dream, and he all but staggered under the déjà vu.

She had to know what she was doing, bending over like that. She definitely knows. Fitz's breath came out of him in staccato thunks. She also literally just ran away from you, you pervert. But if she found him so awful and didn't want to be near him, why was she presenting her bottom like a mating baboon? Unable to tear his eyes away, it took his mind a second to catch up to the fact that she'd just spoken. "Sorry, what?" Get it together, man.

"I was just thinking of getting us something cold from the corner store, if you don't mind waiting." When he turned, she'd picked up the drone and was carefully inspecting it from all sides. "I never really got a chance to look at the new design. Is that all right? I don't want to bother you if you've got somewhere to be."

Wait. So she'd found an excuse to escape his company - probably disgusted by the way he'd been mooning at her - but at the same time she was offering to buy him a drink? Women are impossible. Thankfully, Jemma didn't sound as if she'd noticed anything strange about his behavior either. She just sounded… normal. Well, if she was going to be normal, so could he. Of course, for Fitz, normal meant one thing.

"Hmmph," he scoffed, teasing. "Don't want to bother me? That'd be a first."

Fortunately for him, Jemma simply rolled her eyes in amusement and reached for her wallet. "What did you want from the store?"

If he said an ice cream sandwich, would she get him an ice cream sandwich, or would she try to make him eat something terrible, like vegetable jerky or bran? "You know what? I'll go. Then you'll have plenty of time for a peek at the drone while I'm gone."

Jemma raised her head to peer at him over the top of her sunglasses. "You would leave me here alone with your dog and your prototype? My, my, how trusting we've become."

He chuckled and started counting off on his fingers. "First off, still not my dog. And second, I think you'll want to hang around till I get back."

"Oh?" she challenged. "And why is that?"

Now I play my ace in the hole. Fitz flicked up a smug eyebrow. "Check your voicemail."