"I haven't been able to dress up like this in ages," Jemma says, clasping Jasper's hand as they stroll down the sidewalk.

"Then I'm glad to give you the opportunity," Jasper replies with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "Have I mentioned you look amazing?"

Jemma has to try not to laugh, if only because he had. Nearly a dozen times, in fact. It seems like every time there's a moment of silence between them, she looks over and finds him staring at her. It's nice to be looked at the way he looks at her—as though she honestly is the most beautiful thing he's seen and not just saying so. As though he's looking at her like this, not because he knows it's what she wants, but because it's how he feels.

"If you don't stop saying that, I'm going to get quite the inflated ego," Jemma says with a smile.

"I can live with that," Jasper says with a smirk. "Seeing as I'm not going to be stopping it any time soon."

"Very well. Two can play at that game," Jemma declares. "And you should know that I think you look very handsome in what you're wearing."

"Nice try, but you've seen me in a suit more often than not," Jasper replies.

"Precisely. If I think you look handsome in what you're wearing, it would then stand to reason that since you're always dressed in a similar fashion, then I always find you handsome," Jemma says triumphantly.

Jasper rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Now you're just being ridiculous," he says.

"Oh, you stop that. You're not allowed to compliment me if I'm not allowed to do the same to you," Jemma says. "I'm afraid you're just going to have to suffer through my compliments."

He's laughing as he gets her coat, but he never agrees or disagrees.

"I feel like I should be whispering," Jemma says under her breath.

"Why?" Jasper asks, looking up from his menu curiously.

"It's very quiet. Like a library," Jemma replies. "And everyone here seems very… posh."

"You mean rich and snobby."

"Yes, that's what I've just said, isn't it?"

"In British-speak, sure."

"English, duck. English."

"Did you just call me a duck?" Jasper asks, his tone colored by laughter.

"Yes. No. I mean… not exactly the way you think. You see duck is… well it's rather like calling someone a dear. I suppose it's just something I picked up from my parents," Jemma admits. Realizing what she's just said, she colors and hurriedly adds, "Not that I picture us like my parents, you understand."

"I think it's cute," Jasper assures her. "Although, I don't think you've ever told me about your family."

"I must have at some point," Jemma says with a small frown.

"Not beyond mentioning three brothers that talk over you and your parents," Jasper reminds her.

"Oh. I suppose I must have overlooked that somehow," Jemma says.

"So," Jasper says, resting his chin on his knuckles, "tell me about them."

"Really? Now?"

"Unless you don't want to."

"Well, I just assumed you wouldn't want to spend tonight talking about something like that."

"You've said yourself that your family is important to you. And if you're not joking about taking me home to them, then I'd like to know a little bit about them," Jasper points out. "Learning more about you is exactly how I want to spend tonight."

"I certainly wasn't joking," Jemma declares, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. She wonders if he knows just how serious she is about the whole thing. "What would you like to know?"

"Let's start with names first and you can tell me," Jasper says.

"Alright, then. Let's see, ehm… My mum and dad have been married for almost forty years. You can just call them Nancy and Greg when you meet them. They won't want you calling them 'Mr. and Mrs.,'" Jemma tells him. "My dad is a baker and my mum is a barrister who practices in civil liberties and human rights. She does as much pro bono work as she can, which is usually quite a bit considering Dad has his own bakery and it's rather successful. But he's got a bad back so my older brother Russell has mostly taken over these days."

She pauses to sip at her wine, cobbling together all the information she thinks will be relevant and noting with no little pleasure that Jasper seems to be listening intently.

"Russell is the oldest at thirty-five; he and his husband, James, have two children. Then there are my older brothers Todd and Terry, who are thirty. Twins, if it needed to be said. Todd and his wife Amelia have four children and he works as a Detective Sergeant at New Scotland Yard. Terry is divorced, has shared custody of his daughter with his ex-wife and works as a journalist," Jemma reports.

"And then you. The only girl and probably the apple of your dad's eye," Jasper teases.

"Don't ever mention that in front of him. He says that's where my name came from; because I'm his gem," Jemma says with a huff. "Likely he won't need any prompting with you around, but please do what you can to spare me from his efforts to embarrass me in front of you."

"I wouldn't be too worried about it," Jasper says with a broad grin. "A lot of dads are like that with their daughters."

"You say that as though you know what you're talking about," Jemma points out.

"Just someone I know," Jasper says with a small smile. "So, your brothers have kids. Does that make you Auntie Jemma?"

"No, it makes me 'Jemma, when are you going to find yourself a nice lad and settle down?'" Jemma says.

"This is a thing, then," Jasper says, eyebrow raised curiously.

"I'm not exactly known for bringing anyone home," Jemma warns him. "My parents seem convinced that I'll end up old, grey and alone. And they aren't the only ones."

Really, just because she'd focused on a career instead of settling down doesn't mean she never would. And besides, what was wrong with being alone? Some people aren't looking for a romantic partner to spend their life with. Or children. Well… She wanted one of those things (at least) but what was the hurry? Alright, so her brothers had all gone and been married and had children. She was the youngest of them, she still had plenty of time left for that sort of thing.

She's surprised, though, when she sees that Jasper is no longer looking at her. He squints as he stares at something across the restaurant before his lips quirk up in a smile and he raises a hand in greeting. When she tries to turn to see who it is, he places a hand on hers, drawing her attention back to him.

"Just act natural and follow my lead, alright?" he advises her. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

"A-Alright," she agrees.

"Well, well, well, imagine running into you here, Agent Sitwell."

Jemma stands as Jasper does, noting the comfortable smile on his face before she turns to see who they're greeting. One of their guests she recognizes easily—Andy King, dressed in a standard S.H.I.E.L.D. suit and tie, offers her a bright smile. The speaker, however, well, she can see now why Jasper had advised her to act natural. It's not every day one runs into Secretary Alexander Pierce. She tries not to gape like a fish as he and Jasper exchange a warm handshake.

She's never seen him in person, but he's a name that carries as much weigh as Director Fury. He's got an outwardly gregarious and engaging aura, like your favorite grandpa, all while maintaining a bearing of undeniable power. He instantly owns the space and she imagines that's likely the same wherever he goes. To her great alarm, after a quick greeting with Jasper, he sets his sights on her.

"And this must be the lovely and talented Agent Jemma Simmons," Pierce says, reaching out to shake her hand also. "I've had my eye on you and Agent Fitz for some time now. Needless to say, your files are most impressive. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Mr. Secretary," Jemma says with a small smile and a polite bob of her head as she shakes his hand.

"You know, I'd been wondering what's had Jasper here so distracted lately, but I think I'm starting to get the idea," Pierce says with a teasing wink. "I'm glad at least some of the good ones find a way to have a life outside S.H.I.E.L.D. Now, if only our little Andy here might take her partner's lead…"

"Sir, please," Andy intones with an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, come now, there's nothing wrong in wanting the best for our best," Pierce says. He reaches out, laying a hand on both Jasper and Andy's shoulders, like a proud father might. "You know, Jemma—I'm sorry, may I call you Jemma?"

"Certainly, sir," Jemma replies.

"Well, Jemma, you can certainly be proud of our boy Jasper. These two have done some amazing work for us," Pierce says, visibly squeezing the two agents' shoulders. "From what I understand, your spirit is second only to your smarts. We can always use an agent of your caliber, Jemma, and with the way you're headed, I can say that I look forward to being able to work with you in the future."

"Thank you, sir," Jemma says, cheeks flushing pink under his praise. "You're really too kind."

"Too kind? Not for one of the brightest young minds in S.H.I.E.L.D. But we won't spoil your evening by overstaying our welcome," Pierce says, flashing them another smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Secretary," Jasper says, shaking his hand once more. "Enjoy your evening."

"A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Secretary," Jemma adds.

"If I could have a moment, sir?" Andy asks, head tilting slightly to the side.

"Of course," Pierce says, clapping her on the back. "You kids have fun."

The three of them thank him in unison as he retreats back to the other side of the restaurant. Once he's out of earshot, Andy sputters with pent-up laughter, drawing a scowl from Jasper.

"You should've seen your faces," Andy giggles.

"Oh, real funny, Bambi," Jasper snorts. "Can't a guy have one night to himself?"

"Relax," Andy says, rolling her eyes. "We're here meeting with Senator Stern and I saw you two across the restaurant so of course we had to come say hello. You know how much he wanted to meet Jemma."

"Yeah, well, a little warning would have been nice," Jasper says.

"Sure. Next time I'll just have the waiter leave a note in your bread basket," Andy snorts.

"Jerk," Jasper says, flicking her ear.

"That was Secretary Pierce," Jemma says numbly. "I just shook hands with Secretary Pierce. Who knows my name. And has read my file."

"I'm starting to see what you meant about giving you a little warning," Andy says. "Now I feel a little mean."

"No, it's fine. It's fine," Jemma says. "I'm just… That was not the sort of thing that I was expecting from this evening."

"It can be a little intimidating meeting him the first time," Andy says, nodding her head in understanding. "But I wouldn't worry about it too much. Anyway, I'm gonna split. Lots of fun and exciting business to attend to, wining and dining politicians. I'll see you Monday, Jasper?"

"Yeah. Your turn to get coffee," Jasper reminds her, pulling her in for a hug.

"Like I'd forget," she says, pulling away to hug Jemma as well. "Sorry for crashing your date. How about the next time we all go out, it'll be on me to make up for it?"

"I think that's agreeable," Jemma says, smiling. "Hopefully it will be sometime soon."

"I have a feeling it will be," Andy says, smiling broadly.

The wave her off as she departs to return to the other side of the restaurant, where some sort of business is transpiring that is no doubt far above Jemma's pay grade. As they take their seats again, she finds she's still a little off kilter from meeting undoubtedly one of the most powerful men in the country, but that Jasper seems oddly affected as well. He's quiet as they resume their meal, seeming distracted and unsettled, as though the meeting had robbed him of his good humor. She reaches out, resting her hand on his.

"You're quiet all of a sudden," she points out when he looks up.

"Sorry," he sighs. "I wasn't expecting to see them here."

"I don't mind so much," Jemma says. "But it seems that you do."

Jasper hesitates, as though he doesn't really want to talk about it. He buys himself time by pouring a little more wine into both their glasses before settling back in his seat.

"I'd just like to leave work at work once in a while," Jasper admits. "But this job… you never really clock out. It's always there."

"We both know that," Jemma says. "But that doesn't mean having a relationship is impossible. Harder than it is for most, yes, but not impossible."

"I want to believe that, but everything I've seen seems to say otherwise. I mean, none of Phil's relationships have lasted. I don't think Blake ever leaves that surveillance room other than to get more coffee. And did you know May used to be married?" he asks.

"No. I didn't," Jemma answers softly.

"She was. Until Bahrain, at least," Jasper says. "Whether it's the job itself or what the job does to you, it just seems that nothing good can last. And you can't blame people for not wanting to stay, for not wanting to be a part of this. We all made this choice, coming into this, but you can't expect other people to do the same. This life isn't for everyone and it's not fair to ask them to live it."

"All those things are true," Jemma says. "So I suppose it's a good thing that neither of us have any intention of going anywhere."

"Jemma—"

"No. Just listen for a moment," she says, cutting him off. "You're right. About all those things. But in this case, this is a life we've both chosen. There are no surprises, no one of us being left to an empty house after we come home from our nine-to-five, wondering if the other will be coming home this week. Yes, it's been difficult and I'm sure it's going to remain to be difficult, but I know it will get easier as well. Over time, we'll figure this out. And for now, the time we've had together is more than I could have hoped for. Whether or not this doesn't work out down the line isn't something we can know; but it's working now and I think that's what matters. So we can waste time dwelling on it, or we can enjoy the here and now."

Jasper looks down, his fingers tapping the table rhythmically, as he digests what she's just said. In the end, it seems whatever unpleasant thoughts had been plaguing him are being shelved for the night as he smiles and squeezes her hand.

"You're right," he tells her. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Jemma assures him. "I've had those same thoughts myself."

"But I shouldn't be bringing them up now," Jasper says. "So, that's that. No more talking about it for the rest of the weekend."

"Good," Jemma says, picking up her wine glass. "That's what I like to hear."

Still, he does have a point. It seems that S.H.I.E.L.D. is nearly inescapable. So much of their lives seem to revolve around it that she wonders if they really will be able to make it work. But she catches herself before thinking too much on the subject and, clinking her glass to Jasper's, decides to take her own advice.

As they head home for the evening, Jasper says he's got a little something planned. No matter how much she pries, however, he won't tell her what it is. She spends the entirety of the car ride guessing at what it could be, but by the time they arrive at his apartment, she finds she's no closer to coming up with a feasible idea than when she'd started. They make their way up and are greeted enthusiastically by Baxter once they step foot inside.

"Did you save any room for ice cream?" Jasper asks, hanging their coats by the door.

"There's always room for ice cream," Jemma answers, kneeling to scratch behind Baxter's ears. "Is that the little something you had planned?"

"What? No," Jasper laughs. "Granted, this is really good ice cream."

"Oh? No doubt from some interesting, independently owned locale that you've stumbled upon in your travels," Jemma says with a smile.

"Are you making fun of me?" Jasper asks with a smirk.

"I just think it's interesting," Jemma says, sitting on the sofa and patting the seat beside her until Baxter jumps up. The bulldog obliges, curling up beside her comfortably, content to have his belly rubbed by someone who is clearly an expert in the subject. "You always seem to have some little place on-hand no matter the occasion. I find your abhorrence towards all things big-business to be charming."

"I like trying new things," Jasper says, scooping ice cream into two small bowls. "You're only going to get that if you go off the beaten path. Chains become chains for a reason; because they can please just about anyone. Independent and small businesses aren't bound by that. They can be as free and unique as they like because they're really only looking to cater to a specific audience: people like them."

"I bet you're everyone favorite lunch companion," Jemma says.

"Well, I don't like to brag, but yes. I am," Jasper says.

She laughs quietly to herself, watching him lick ice cream off the side of his hand as he puts the tub back in the freezer. They'd been speaking in a lighthearted manner, but she really had meant it when she said it was something she found charming. Jasper has an easy smile, quick wit, and a penchant for walking the path less traveled that draws her in time and again. And then, for all his suave demeanor, his posture, his confident aura, she's able to undo him with a sly remark or a few offhand words. It's an ability that fascinates her.

The two of them winding up together is still something of a mystery to her, but she has to admit that having a man like Jasper trip over himself in pursuit of her is more than a little flattering. She's not used to that kind of attention—despite the fact that she's been told it's something she deserves. Skye has become something of a best friend of sorts, different than Leo. The two of them can talk about boys—or girls, even—and gossip and do all of those fun, ridiculous things that Leo wouldn't be able to appreciate.

It was Skye who had told her—after a little too much alcohol, admittedly—that anyone would be lucky to have her. She had stressed the point, saying that if a guy wasn't head over heels in love with her, then he wasn't worth her time. If a man wasn't willing to treat her like she was the world to him, then she shouldn't waste her time.

She likes to think she's found that.

"Alright, a little ice cream and I'll get us set up," Jasper says, walking up behind the sofa and handing her a bowl.

"And just what are we setting up for?" Jemma asks, pushing Baxter's nose away as the bulldog rises up from his slumber at the prospect of food.

"Since I don't know when both of us will be able to make it out there," Jasper says, pulling his laptop from its case and setting it on the coffee table, "and since he's dying to meet you, I thought we could Skype with my cousin so I could show you off."

"I would love to meet him," Jemma says. "You said he has a boyfriend? Will we be meeting him as well?"

"I'm guessing Cecil's finished with his radio program for the day, so I should think so," Jasper says, booting up his laptop. "And if we're lucky, we may just catch a rare sighting of the infamous Clint Barton. He has a habit of hanging around their apartment on the weekends."

"And Hawkeye as well," Jemma says. "I don't know if I can handle all these important people in one day."

"Unlike Secretary Pierce, there's no reason to care what these guys think," Jasper assures her. "They're just a regular bunch of guys. Mostly."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that 'mostly,'" Jemma hums, taking a bite of ice cream.

"It's kind of hard to explain," Jasper says, tapping his spoon on the side of his bowl as he logs in. "But maybe I should take a crack at it before we get started. See, Night Vale is… a little odd. Actually, really odd."

"How odd, exactly?" Jemma asks, eyebrows raised.

"Night Vale is sort of an oops," Jasper says slowly. "And what I mean by that is that, what we discovered was that Night Vale and its neighboring city, Desert Bluffs, the surrounding area… well, they're here and they're not."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"You won't find them on any road map. You won't find them on Google Maps or any GPS or anything. From most surrounding points, you won't even see them," Jasper goes on to say. "Night Vale exists within a dimensional tear. A hiccup. The people who find it never do so on purpose and it's rare for people to stumble upon it. It exists between our world and some other, stranger world, inhabiting both and neither simultaneously."

"A dimensional tear," Jemma echoes slowly, her tone light and incredulous. "And… S.H.I.E.L.D. is aware of this?"

"Some of S.H.I.E.L.D. is. Director Fury, Phil, myself, Barton, Romanoff, Andy, a select group of scientists. That's about it," Jasper reports. "Andy was stationed there for about a year after we discovered it. She's the one who recommended Carlos be assigned there once he was finished with his work on the Captain America project."

The implications of this were enormous and yet he's just handed her the information as casually as if he were giving her a recipe for his mother's cookies. A million and one questions buzz through her head, so that she's practically vibrating in her seat with a need to know, to experiment, to discover for herself. But now isn't really the time, she knows.

"I have more questions than I think you can answer, so I'm going to attempt to accept that as it is for the time being," Jemma says slowly. "Somehow."

"I'm sure Carlos will be glad to answer any questions you have," Jasper says, looking amused at the way she attempts to keep herself in check. "He's a scientist."

A few moments later, Jasper is dialing and they scoot closer together to make sure they're both in the frame. After a few rings, the call connects and their screen is filled with the image of a man in a plaid shirt. He has dark, curly hair that is greying at the temples and the barest bit of scruff on his chin. When he catches sight of them, he smiles brightly and Jemma can see his teeth line up like a military cemetery.

"Hey, you made it," he observes.

"Hey, Carlos," Jasper greets fondly.

Carlos turns to look over his shoulder, calling, "Guys, they're on!"

Not a moment later, the screen is decidedly more crowded. Beside Carlos is a man who is neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin. He's very well dressed, in a shirt, tie and vest, and she can see a number of tattoos along the length of his forearms. Just to the back is another man, well built and wearing a purple t-shirt. He has short, sandy hair and a scruffy complexion. As he raises his beer bottle in greeting, she gets a view of arms so muscled, she's half-tempted to blurt out that she'd not bought a ticket for the gun show.

"Cecil, Clint. Nice to see you," Jasper says.

"Always nice to see you, Jasper," Cecil says in a voice so smooth you could spread it on toast. His eyes light up as he nearly squeals in delight. "Oooh is this your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, this is Jemma," Jasper says sounding like he's holding back a laugh. "Jem, this is my cousin Carlos, his boyfriend Cecil, and sulking in the back is Clint."

"You'd be sulking too if you were getting your ass handed to you in Scrabble. Again," Clint argues.

"Well, I am a scientist," Carlos says, straightening his glasses.

"And I'm a successful radio host," Cecil adds. "You were doomed from the start, Clint, you silly hawk."

"Well, at the very least I'm drinking them both under the table. I'm winning at something," Clint declares. "Nice to meet you, Jemma."

"Jasper tells me you're a scientist as well," Carlos says excitedly.

"Yes, I'm a biochemist. And my partner Fitz is an engineer. Jasper's just told me a little bit about Night Vale and I have so many questions," Jemma says, matching his excitement ounce for ounce. "What's it like? It must be fascinating."

"It is! It's truly the most fascinating project I've had the privilege of working on," Carlos declares. "Did you know time doesn't work here? Or at least not the same way we're used to. I'll have to send you my report on clocks, I'm sure you'll be as intrigued as I was."

"I would love to read it," Jemma says, her eyes lighting up at the mere thought. "Here, let me just type my email address in chat… there."

"You'll have to come visit sometime," Carlos says. "I would be so happy to have a fellow scientist to discuss my work with. And we could even conduct experiments together. Can you imagine?"

"We have to go," Jemma says to Jasper. "As soon as possible."

"Aren't scientists adorable?" Cecil says, squishing the sides of his face. "Oh, you have to tell me how you met yours."

"She shot me," Jasper says.

Clint laughs so hard he starts choking on his beer. Jemma tries not to flush as Cecil joins in and Carlos sports a knowing smile. She's learning not to be as embarrassed by it as she used to be. Eventually, they all seem to calm down, though Clint is wiping tears from his eyes.

"Oh, man, I don't really know anything about you, Jemma, but that's enough for me to decide I like you," Clint declares. "Thank you for doing something all of us have only dreamed of."

"También te quiero, pendejo," Jasper says, flipping him off.

"In my defense, I was doing it for my team's sake," Jemma explains.

"I can respect that. You got a good team? Anyone I know?" Clint asks.

"Oh, well, I don't suppose you know Fitz. Skye is a new addition, but we've got Agent Ward and Agent May. And then—"

"Bet you never expected May back in the field, huh?" Jasper cuts her off.

"Usually when May says she's never going to do something, she means it," Clint notes with a hum. "What got her to change her mind?"

"Things changed. You know, after New York, with Phil and everything. I don't know what Fury said specifically, but it was enough to get her onboard," Jasper explains, his hand resting on Jemma's knee.

It doesn't escape her notice that he'd stopped her from mentioning Phil and she recalls that the Avengers aren't to know about his survival. But based on the way Clint's face falls when Jasper brings up New York and Phil, she's not entirely sure it's the wisest choice.

"Yeah. I get it. Listen, I'm gonna cut my losses while I can and get some sleep. I'll see you guys later," Clint says, seeming like he's in a sudden hurry to be anywhere but there. "Jemma, it was nice meeting you."

"It was nice to meet you as well, Agent Barton," Jemma answers.

"Just 'Clint' is fine. I'm not doing a whole lotta agenting these days," Clint says with a lopsided smile and a half laugh. "But come pay us a visit some time. We'd be glad to have you."

As he gathers his things, they all bid him goodnight, but Jemma can't shake the sinking feeling in her stomach. Carlos looks concerned and shakes his head.

"You know how Clint feels about that, Jasper," Carlos says. "Especially with Agent Coulson…"

"I know. I guess I wasn't thinking," Jasper admits with a sigh.

"He's been doing so much better, though," Cecil says. "And he's been such a great help out here. We've been lucky to have him."

"Maybe let him know once in a while," Jasper suggests.

"We try, but it's not easy," Carlos says. "I wish Agent Romanoff would visit again. She always seems to be able to talk to him in a way that we can't."

"I'll see if I can get a minute with her," Jasper promises. "I'm sure she'd want to know."

"Well, for now let's leave him alone for a while. Tomorrow he might be a little better, but we'll call him before bed just to check in," Cecil says. He leans forward on his elbows. "For now, though… Let's get back to this video double-date since we probably won't get another chance until the stars align themselves. And that's not going to happen for at least another three months."

They chuckle at the joke—or at least, Jemma thinks it's a joke—and get on with their conversation. She learns a great deal about Carlos and Cecil, about Night Vale, and finds herself absolutely charmed by the pair. Carlos isn't really anything like his cousin; he's far quieter, much more shy and soft-spoken, but every bit as driven. That they seem to have in common, dedication and loyalty. He and Cecil seem utterly devoted to one another and the story of their courtship brings a broad smile to her face. It's terribly romantic, if a bit strange, but by the time they've got to say goodnight she finds herself hoping they can visit sooner rather than later.

"I'm really glad we got this opportunity to talk," Carlos says. "And I'm glad you and Jasper are happy together."

"Likewise," Jemma says, inclining her head. "I'm looking forward to meeting you in person."

"Well then, until next time, I suppose it's time to say… Goodnight, Agents. Goodnight," Cecil says with a toothy smile.

"Goodnight," Jemma and Jasper say in unison, waving.

The two Night Vale residents wave back before the feed cuts out and they disconnect, leaving them alone in the apartment.

"So, what did you think?" Jasper asks, beginning to power the laptop down.

"Jasper," Jemma says quietly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "Why did you stop me from mentioning Agent Coulson?"

She hears a slow, measured sigh from him. "You know why."

"But why? Why does it have to be a secret? Why specifically can't the Avengers know?" Jemma asks as she gestures towards the laptop. "Just because it's an order doesn't mean it's the right thing to do, and if you ask me it's doing a great deal more harm than good. Agent Barton is clearly still blaming himself. Don't you think it would help him to know that Agent Coulson is alive? Don't you think it would help both of them?"

"Jemma, I understand what you're trying to say. I do," Jasper assures her. "But we keep secrets for a reason. Yes, sometimes those secrets will hurt people and sometimes we wish we could just tell the truth to the people we care about, but we don't. We don't because we know that even if the secrets hurt, the truth would hurt them a lot more. To protect the people we care about, sometimes we have to hurt them."

Jemma takes a long look at him. She knows precisely what he's doing. It's that agent double-speak where he's referring to the topic at hand and simultaneously trying to tell her about something he can't talk about. With a sigh, she reaches out and takes his hands in hers.

"It scares me when you talk like that. I know you can't talk about what you're referring to and I know you have to keep more secrets than you're comfortable with," Jemma says, squeezing his hands. "I know I'm just flogging a dead horse, but I really do wish you would talk to me. I wish you didn't have to carry this alone, whatever it is. But I also know that the time we have left together, like this, is very short and I don't want to waste it talking about this. So let me just say one last thing: I forgive you. For whatever is going on, whatever you think is going to hurt me, I forgive you."

It startles her to see how shaken her words seem to leave him. As he sits beside her, she can feel his hands begin to tremble, just slightly. He leans in and kisses her and there's something desperate about the action, something that makes her afraid to let him go. He pulls away and kisses her forehead.

"Not yet," he says quietly. "Don't forgive me just yet."

She has to fight back a shiver as a tingle travels down her spine. She wants to know why, why he thinks she shouldn't forgive him. But she knows pressing him for answers won't lead them anywhere and will only serve to frustrate them both. She doesn't want that. She wants their last night together to be filled with something other than fear and uncertainty. So she shakes her head and tips her head back to kiss him again.

"Come to bed," Jemma says. "This isn't how I want to remember tonight."

The empty bowls won't make it to the sink until the following morning. And after they've made love, she lets him hold her close, like she's the only thing keeping him anchored. Her fingers travel up and down his back, gently soothing him towards sleep. She lies awake and listens, waits until his slow, even breaths leave her sure he's asleep before she kisses him on the head.

"I forgive you," she whispers.

Jasper won't hear it, but it's important that she say it. With the words heard only by Baxter at the end of the bed and the four walls of his bedroom, she cozies up to him and does her best to stave off sleep. The sun will rise soon enough and when it does, she'll have to leave him. But if she can lie here just a little longer, if she can get just a little more time with him, then a sleepless night is a fair price to pay.