Jemma sat on the couch reading the latest publication in Bioforensics Daily. It had been years since she had been in the lab and even more years since she had published, but she still enjoyed keeping up with the field.
Her husband, Leopold Fitz, sat next to her tinkering with some gears. Like Jemma, Fitz had been retired for years, but even at eighty-six years old he still had the dexterity and mind of a younger engineer.
Music played softly in the background and a warm fire crackled in the fireplace of their cosy little cottage. It was the perfect place for the SHIELD scientists to retire, a quaint little village to finally settle down and leave their action filled life behind.
A small smile passed Jemma's lips as she heard the song change. It was one of her favorites. The song she and Fitz had danced to at their wedding.
A movement got her attention and she pulled her focus from the article and looked up. Fitz had moved and was standing in front of her, hand outstretched.
"May I have this dance Mrs. Fitz-Simmons?" Fitz asked with a smile.
Jemma took Fitz' hand and stood. He pulled her into him, holding her hand in one hand and wrapping the other around her back.
The couple gently swayed around the living room, laughing and singing as they danced, not caring if they looked silly, not caring that their hair had gone grey or that their joints creaked of arthritis. All that mattered was after over fifty years their love was still just as strong.
Jemma placed her head gently on Fitz' shoulder as they continued to sway. As always she felt comfortable and safe in his arms.
"Thank you for the dance," she said, moving her head to look at her husband.
"My pleasure," Fitz said, lightly kissing his wife's forehead. A last dance for Fitzsimmons.
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