Momentarily Stolen

(Aka the Fix-it)

Disclaimer: Yep, I don't own anything here. I am really just playing in this schoolyard for the time being.

So . . . yeah, the winter finale was sad and made me cry. *sniffles* My ship, so tiny and so fragile and now so lost! Trimmons . . . Strip . . . it wasn't the ship we had, but it was the one that we loved.

But, at any rate, this is not the last time you will see me write for this ship. So far as I can tell, AUs and fanfictions exist for this particular reason. After all, our ray of sunshine can continue to shine and I hope that, if you are reading this, you want this thing to continue!

Okay, enough of me going on, you all obviously came here for story time (and not me being all sad because canon decided to happen).

They were failing and falling and the only thing keeping her steady as the cave crumbled around them was Fitz and his arms around her. Jemma saw the worry on his face, reading as clear as day. Hell, she was sure that her own face read similar fear.

Only the knowledge that they had their team kept her from completely falling apart.

With everything that had happened in the last months – last year or more, really – she was surprised that she wasn't a complete trembling, crying mess. But then, being labeled a terrorist and effectively going rogue in effort to rebuild that shattered image would toughen anyone up.

Hours and hours later, when the dust settled and the team shakily reconvened, she saw the pain in Skye's eyes, the fear on Mack's and Coulson's face, the steely resolve of Melinda, and the genuine worry from Hunter and Bobbi. Fitz was quick to comfort Skye, who leaned on him heavily. The weight of the day was heavy on her shoulders and she fell so easily into his arms. For just a moment, Jemma was happy at the sight of Mack, newly restored to them, as he gave Fitz a brotherly smile. The friendship between the two men was so good for both of them and she could not begrudge them that.

But whatever brief warmth she felt faded all too quickly when she realized that she did not see the one person she so desperately needed to see.

The universe closed in around her and she put the dots together. A thousand tons landed firmly on her chest and she suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. Skye took a step towards her, mouth open to say something, but Jemma could not bear to stay.

Instead, she turned on her heel and bolted.

Something had happened down there in that city and whatever it had to do was not good. Her gut told her that it revolved around Antoine. If her fears and suspicions were correct, then she would be a widow long before she intended to be one.

Behind her, she heard their voices calling her name, trying to beckon her back. With Hydra still out there, it was stupid for her to be doing this, but Jemma didn't care to follow reason. She just needed to be back on the Bus, back in their quarters, back somewhere safe and where he had been.

It felt like a millennium before the door to their – her – quarters slid open. Jemma heard it, but she couldn't bear to turn and face the rage that she knew was waiting for her. Upon returning, she had realized just how reckless she had been and how much danger she had left the whole team in. Rashness had won out over rationality in that moment and, eventually, she was going to have to face the inevitable due justice for that.

Right now, to put it as delicately as possible, Jemma did not give a flying flip about that. Instead, she pulled the blanket further over her shoulders and hugged herself, relishing in his cologne that still clung to the sweater she had slipped on. She was going to need that comforting armor when they dragged her out of here.

But that dragging did not happen.

Instead, a weight settled down on to the bed next to her. A long, strong, so-warm arm slunk around her middle, gently guiding her back against a chest. Instinctively, Jemma looked down at the hand on her middle and had to blink at that sight.

That hand was all-too-familiar and the ring on the third finger was a match to the one on her own hand.

Lips found her neck.

"I had hoped you would patch me up again, Jems," Antoine said quietly.

And she gasped in surprise, twisting some to face him, dropping the blanket as she did. In her rush, she brushed against him a bit too roughly and he winced, clutching his abdomen.

That was when she saw the blood seeping through his shirt and the hasty bandages that he been wrapped around him.

"I thought you were dead," she replied, just as quietly.

Now, it was his turn to blink in surprise.

"Dead?"

"You didn't come out of the city and no one said anything."

Despite his pain, Antoine pulled her in for a tight embrace. "Oh no, Jemma," he whispered. "I was just going a lot slower than the rest of them!"

"What happened?" she asked at last.

He gave her a weak smile and recounted what had happened after he had gone back down to disarm the bombs. Skye had gotten trapped in a room with Raina and the Obelisk. Despite his best efforts, he had been a moment too slow to get into that room and had been cut off. But, in the resulting debris and wave of energy from the activated device, he had gotten some shards of falling rock impaled into his chest – far deeper than he had initially realized. Luckily, Coulson and the recovered Mack had been able to do immediate first aid to stop the bleeding.

Once the temple room had reopened and they had recovered Skye, he had told Coulson, Mack, and Skye to get out of the underground city first. He would follow.

Honestly, Jemma didn't care about what else had happened. Tears of joy slipped out and she held him close, crying at the near-miss that they had had. Antoine wrapped his arms around her, his lips pressing to her ear, whispering words of comfort to her.

Oh, she patched him right up as soon as she gotten control of her emotions.

Her hands were steady and she was able to focus on treating his wounds, both the ones that he had gained down in the city and the ones that he had received days and days ago. The latter ones were healing up nicely and, luckily, had not been ripped open in the city.

When the dust was settled and May got the Bus into the air, there was the inevitable fallout from Coulson.

Jemma understood her Director's anger, mild and surface as it was. She had been upset and hadn't thought clearly. But, once that rage had settled, Coulson had pulled her into a hug and pressed a kiss to her temple. When she pulled away, she saw the small smile on her lips and knew that he understood what she was going through.

If it had been Skye or May, the Director would be inconsolable. Hell, if any of them had died down there, no one would blame Coulson for the emotions that had (briefly, falsely) coursed through her.

Antoine didn't leave her side, even when Coulson had called her into his office. (The Director had glared at her husband, but didn't say anything to make him leave.) When that had finished, he grabbed her hand and held it tightly, giving her the warmest smile, as they went down to the lab.

Bobbi and Hunter were off doing . . . God knows what. Jemma wasn't going to ask about it until she was sure that Bobbi was ready to talk. That being said, the fallout from the two was going to be explosive and possibly catastrophic.

That being said, the two found Skye, Fitz, and Mack, down in the lab. The two men were completely befuzzled as Skye shook from her new, unexpected power surge. Turns out her father, monstrous as he was, was right that she was special. Fitz had fired up the machinery still in the lab to run some initial tests. Jemma jumped in after a few moments, giving Skye a little smile of encouragement.

No one really knew what to say, but, soon enough, Mack appeared with tea and passed it around. He might be a new member of the team, but the mechanic understand the necessity of stability after such a horrible mission. Antoine pulled Jemma onto his lap, the doctor careful o avoid jostling his wounds and their cups of tea.

Later, so much later, when they were back on base, Antoine and Jemma made quiet, gentle love, exploring one another and reaffirming their love.

As she dozed off to sleep, Jemma draped an arm over her husband's chest and smiled. It might have been temporary, but the emotion that ran through her had been hard. She knew that facing these sorts of situations was definite possibility, but, God, it hurt so acutely and so painfully – which is why she was so glad that it had been a false moment.

Antoine whispered words of love to her as sleep claimed her – and Jemma knew that the same thoughts had been going through his own mind.

Fluffy, but we needed that after the sadness that was the winter finale.

Please review and let me know what you thought (good, bad, etc.). I hope to have another installation of this up as the Muse allows – because God only knows that I don't want the amazing relationship of Trip and Simmons to go away!

Until next time!