"Oh, Fitz, really?" she laughed when he appeared in her bedroom doorway holding up a bag of crisps and a large bar of chocolate. "That's your idea of a post-workout snack?"

"Y'know, I went to great lengths to get these for you-"

"Mmm, for me, I'm sure-"

"Yes, for you, in order to correct the terrible oversight in your snacking experience." Fitz ripped open the bag. "It's a travesty, that is, and there I was, traipsin' all over creation, at great personal inconvenience, the least you could do is say-"

"Thank you. It's a nice surprise." As a still-surly Fitz climbed back under the sheets, she reached over to break off a square of chocolate and muted her inner neat freak shrieking about crumbs in bed. "You're very sweet." She brushed her nose against his. "And cute. Adorable, really." She ruffled his hair, her eyes dancing when he frowned suspiciously beneath her fingers. "And snuggly, too. Like a friendly chinchilla."

"Stop that," he grumped, not quite ready to let go of the apron strings of his peevishness. "I'm very imposing." He swatted her hands away. "Quit- none of this chinchilla nonsense, you." His tornado face reddened at her giggle. "Hey!" He shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth and pointed accusingly at her. "You're supposed to be overwhelmed with passion right now."

"Oh, Fitz," she relented. "It's not that I don't appreciate your great lengths," she looked down tellingly, "but I'd much rather have woken up with you in my bed." Jemma sat back and pushed her foot against his thigh. "I like having you here. You know that, yeah?"

"Wow." Fitz sucked his teeth in mock judgment. "Clingy. And after you changed your contact in my phone to Doctor Girlfriend, too." He wagged his eyebrows. Adorably, the berk. "Bit presumptuous of you."

She threw a pillow into his chest. As if he hasn't gotten attached, Mr. Drinks-Then-Breakfast.

"Right," she narrowed her eyes in gentle ribbing. Jemma knew her value. "Because you could do so much better. In fact," she tossed a crisp into her mouth and cocked a brow, "shouldn't you get going?" She gestured expansively towards the door, smirking. "That field's not going to play itself."

A second later, Fitz had her pinned against a mountain of cushions, his hot breath fogging up her neck as he kissed a path along her collarbone.

"I think I'm good right here."

-o-

"Mmm," Jemma moaned, smacking her lips. "That really is fantastic."

"I can't decide what's sweeter: this," he sucked his fingers clean, "or havin' you admit I'm right." Fitz's smug grin was interrupted by his tongue darting out to lick a streak of chocolate off the corner of his mouth. "They make brownies and ice cream with crisps in them too. It's a whole culinary movement."

"Ah, yes, what a shocking discovery." She rolled her eyes. "Sugar, fat, and salt all taste good. Call the papers, we'll be rich!"

Fitz's chuckled at the sarcasm, but his face fell upon seeing both packages empty. Pouting, he balled up the crinkly foil and binned the bags in the small can next to her bed.

"Still, I suppose," she stretched, arching her back before brushing a few grains of salt off her blanket, "we did end up needing the carbs."

"Hey, anytime you want to eat junk food, in bed, and burn it off, also in bed," Fitz started, flopping onto his stomach and throwing an arm over to tangle their fingers together, "I'm your man."

-o-

"I didn't actually mess with your phone, by the way." Jemma's face was tucked in between his shoulder and his neck, trying to remind herself why, exactly, it was important that she leave the flat at some point that day. "Just the name change. That's it." She bit her lip. "Well, and I listened to my messages. They were far more humiliating than you let on." She wasn't sure if she should yell at him for lying or thank him for sparing her.

"Well, that's because I can actually lie convincingly," he muttered into her hair.

She squinted, pulling away slightly to watch his face. "You are aware that's not something to be proud of, aren't you? If I'm a bad liar it just means I haven't had much practice. Because I'm honest."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." His nose seemed to curdle as he conceded the point. "Even your flaws are qualities in disguise."

Her mouth split in triumph. "Oh, don't feel bad, Fitz. Really, all magicians deceive people for a living. You've never known any other way. We scientists, on the other hand," she twisted out of reach as he tried to catch her in a kiss, "are paragons of knowledge and tru- mmph."

His lips were barely on hers before she was pressing back, wondering if she'd ever tire of Fitz's hands sliding around her waist to haul her close, that warm-pyjama feeling that made her want to burrow into his arms and leave the dishes in the sink. Her head started to swim, and she let Fitz topple her back into the pillows, smiling against his mouth.

There was a new and very tolerable sort of strangeness that came from grocery shopping with Fitz: his shoulders brushing hers as they pushed one trolley, the juvenile barbs aimed at each other's impulse buys, that distracting urge to shove him against the freezer case and snog him silly. For his part, Fitz kept using sleight-of-hand to sneak junk into the cart and seemed to think the mere fact that she'd tried chocolate crisps meant she now considered Pop-Tarts a viable meal replacement.

"I'm happy to keep a few things on hand to satisfy your sweet tooth-"

"You satisfy my sweet tooth," he declared gallantly, turning a bit pink when she rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness.

"-but just because it has a sticker that says 'A Low Fat Food' on it, that still doesn't make licorice a food." She plucked the one-pound bag of candy out of his hands and eyed it with distrust. "Well, at least it's not the sugar free variety. You'd never leave the bathroom." She put it in the cart. "Now, please help me pick out a few things we can actually eat for dinner. Possibly foods with one ingredient?"

"How can someone so short," he said, amusedly watching her reach for a bottle of olive oil on the top shelf, "be so bossy?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Before he could come to her rescue, she stepped up onto the trolley, balancing on the rack between the wheels, and used the extra height to grab the oil.

Fitz grabbed her arm on her way down, helping to steady her, and when she glanced over she found him staring, lips quirking like a new take on a classic fairy tale. He put his hands on the cart handle on either side of hers and circled his arms around her while his chin fell to her shoulder, and she felt his smile on her neck. Jemma looked around, grateful that no one seemed to be paying them any attention, as Fitz's whispered words tickled her ear. "Let me take you out to dinner."

The baffled laugh that came out of her was sharp and quick, and he stepped back with a muttered, "It's not that funny."

She whirled and grabbed his hand before he could get all Fitz about it. "No, no, of course I'll go out with you. It's just," she kept snickering, but tried to tamp it down. "Bit late to be asking, isn't it?"

His face bent in a blushing grin, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. "Hey, that's- I was tryin' to be respectful, and you-"

She traced small circles on the inside of his wrist with her thumb. "You were very respectful," she reassured him quietly.

He met her eyes, looking at her the way Wall-E might look at a newfound videocassette, and it was all she could do to hold in the things she wasn't quite ready to say. A second later that wide smile she loved was back. "Yes, well," he crowed smugly. "Best boyfriend ever."

"Mmm," she went up on her tiptoes, kissing him briefly - they were still in the middle of the supermarket - and jumped when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. "All right, then, boyfriend, do you want to talk to Skye, or should I?"

He held out his hand with a small gimme crook of his fingers. "Hello, Skye? Yeah, it's Fitz." Jemma bit her lip in commiseration when she saw Fitz's face turn an alarming shade of crimson. "Erm, ah, so… I was just wonderin' what brand of ginger-beer it is you like? No, nothin' like- I thought I could get you a sixer?" His tone had gotten a bit desperate, but he nodded. "To make up for last time." He coughed then, pummeling his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "Yep. No problem," he wheezed.

Fitz practically threw the phone back at Jemma with a swallowed "I'll just… go find that."

Jemma kept her eyes on his retreating form and lifted the device to her ear. "Do I even want to know?"

"Jemma!" came Skye's delighted squeal. "So that was fun. Probably not as much fun as your night, though, huh? Tell me- did he set a fire in your pants with nothing more than his big brain? Did he levitate your bra off of you?"

"Again, Skye? Really?"

"Did he make you have to presto change-o your underwear? Did he handcuff himself to your bed and then totally not escape? Did he saw your special lady in half?"

Jemma wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, Skye!"

Skye sounded inappropriately proud of herself. "That last one was pretty gross." Only that one?

Jemma sighed heavily. "Okay, if you must know-" A small smile bloomed on her cheeks. "It was…" She sighed. "He just has the biggest-"

"Whoa, I do not wanna hear about Fitz's magic peen," Skye laughed over the line. "I gotta work with that guy."

"Heart! I was going to say, he has the biggest heart, he's just so considera-"

"Biggest heart-on, maybe." There was an indistinct thump and the sound of something spilling. "Oh, crap, I gotta go. Later, babe!"

Jemma twisted a curl of her hair around a finger as she tucked her phone away, looking up when she saw Fitz bounding back in her direction.

"Found it!" He held up the ginger-beer victoriously. "I hope it's enough to make Skye forget what a twat I've been."

"I told you, she's already on your side." Jemma looped her arm through his and made for the front of the store. "And it's not as if either of us were always the perfect model of civility."

"You could be," Fitz mumbled.

"What?"

"You could be a model," he raised a rather rakish eyebrow.

It was difficult to look stern when he was so pleased with himself. "I think you're missing the point."

He spread his hands innocently. "Just sayin'."

It wasn't long before they were back in her car and Jemma was reaching over to tug his face forward, fully conscious of the way he was staring at her and loving every minute.

Because Fitz looked at her like an art student examined a painting at the Met, and his hands moved over her as if she were marble and he meant to carve a statue. When they kissed, the leisurely stroke of his tongue in her mouth was a paintbrush, carefully swirling out her watercolor name. Jemma relaxed into his hold, knowing that it had only been a weekend but feeling like it had been a decade, and trusted that between the two of them, they would make something beautiful.

Author's Notes:

Doctor Girlfriend is a character from The Venture Bros. (I couldn't help making the reference.) Seriously, watch The Venture Bros. What am I saying, you all know that already.

Also good knowledge for life-ing successfully - DO NOT eat too many sugar free gummies or sugar free candies. You will poop forever.

This is sort of the ending. It's like the pre-ending. The rest is going to be time-jump stuff, and that's not all written yet, so I'll do my best to get it to you soon, but I'm going to aim for Wednesday. Thank you for bearing with me!