WARNING: SERIOUS SPOILERS FOR S2E10! After "Ye Who Enter Here" and "What They Become" I feel a glimmer of hope is in the air for our beloved nerds. The fact that I'm fixated on them when they are clearly not the focus of the plot right now just goes to show the depth of my devotion and hopefully goes some way to explaining why I must continue to write stuff like what follows. We catch a glimpse of Fitz and Jemma clinging to one another in the dying moments of the episode. Here's what I like to think might happen next.
Be warned: I felt that this was getting pretty cheesy so I went the whole hog and turned it into a By My Side Fitzsimmons Christmas Special mid-way through. I hope that lets me off the hook for the total shift in mood that suddenly surprises (and probably horrifies) you.
It hadn't escaped Fitz's attention that though they had initially clung to one another in that Oh No, We're About To Die sort of a way, an hour later, finally walking safely up the ramp of The Bus with all present and accounted for bar the tragic loss of Tripp, Jemma still held tightly on to him and seemed to require him to reciprocate. Despite the hammering of his heart reminding him how much his whole being revelled in her closeness, he was starting to feel a little self-conscious now the others were gathered around. He was sure he'd even seen Mack wink at him.
What a relief it was to see Mack alive, returned to his old self. But what a wrench to watch a distraught Skye trying to explain the circumstances of Tripp's death to the team. Fitz had seen Tripp as a threat from the start, but the guy had grown on him. How could he blame Tripp for simply loving the same amazing woman that he loved? And in a way, he owed Tripp a debt of gratitude. Fitz knew that without being shocked into jealousy by Tripp's open flirtation with Jemma, he might never have admitted his true feelings to himself, let alone to her.
Why was it always the near death experiences that threw them together? he found himself musing. Was this just going to be another moment he'd look back on with longing once reality had settled back in? Well, there was no point in being self-protective, he reflected. He'd put it all out there and there was no going back – if Jemma needed him, he would be there for her until she didn't need him any longer.
He felt her hesitate as they entered the body of the plane. Fitz determined to lead her to her bunk. He knew she'd be exhausted after all they'd been through. Her body relaxed as he moved them forward, trusting herself to his confident lead. What a reversal, he thought to himself. He who had been so reliant on others for direction for so long, being lent on and needed by Jemma of all people.
As they approached her bunk he finally felt he needed to face the truth. What he was seeing in Jemma's behaviour here had very little to do with him. For all he knew, Tripp and Jemma had secretly been together all this time. For all he knew, this semi-catatonic state she was in was due to her grief at the loss of her lover or at least someone she'd hoped might someday be. How would he broach it with her? How could he communicate to her that he was there for her anyway, as long as she needed him? How could he ensure she knew that he wasn't in it for himself?
He stopped outside the black glass sliding door of her bunk and waited. She didn't move.
"Do you want me to open the door for you?" he asked gently.
She nodded.
He disentangled himself from her embrace to get his good arm free so that he could slide open the heavy door. All the parts of his body that she'd been pressed against felt suddenly cold. He stood to one side so that she could enter. She didn't move.
"Jemma?" he whispered.
She raised her eyes to his.
"Can I get you anything? Can I do anything for you?"
She contemplated him a moment.
"Well… Goodnight," he started to say, stepping backwards, but she reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Fitz," she whispered urgently, the first sound he'd heard her make in what seemed like eons. "Stay?"
He was sure he'd misheard her. He looked back at her uncertainly.
"Will you stay with me?" she repeated. "Please, Fitz?"
He glanced quickly over each shoulder to see if anyone was watching. It seemed ludicrous to him that he was even conscious of anything but Jemma, but he didn't want anyone to think that Tripp didn't matter to him. He looked into her pleading eyes. Jemma mattered more.
He nodded, gesturing for her to go in ahead of him. "Of course."
She fleetingly shot him a grateful smile and slipped into the bunk.
Their quarters were relatively cramped on the bus. They each had room for a narrow bed, a built-in table with drawers and some overhead storage space for clothes and personal effects. Jemma's bunk spent a long time empty during her stint with HYDRA and she had only just moved back. In contrast to Jemma's stark living quarters, Fitz's well lived-in bunk was a pigsty. He had diagrams and notes scribbled on scraps of paper and stuck all over his walls, most of his clothes lay on the floor – all cardigans – his bedside table was covered in used teacups and he was fairly sure he'd lost a plate of toast and marmalade in there sometime in the last week.
Jemma plonked herself onto the bed and Fitz, after sliding the door closed and hesitating a moment, sat himself down next to her. She immediately rested her body weight back against him, resuming the posture the two of them had held most of the afternoon. Before his brain kicked in and stopped him, Fitz's reflex was to wrap his arms back around her and hold her once more against him. She sighed, almost contentedly.
Fitz thought it was probably as good a time as any to have his heart completely crushed. "I should have realised that you and Tripp were together, Jemma. I'm so sorry that he's gone."
She shook her head.
Fitz didn't want to invite her to talk about her feelings for Tripp. He didn't want to know anything about it. But he did want to be there for her. There was a long silence.
"All the thoughts swirling around in my head are abominable," she whispered suddenly. "I couldn't trust myself with the others tonight – I'd be bound to blurt it all out."
"You can say anything you want to me, you know," Fitz offered.
"Well, you have to hear it," she said matter-of-factly, turning to look into his eyes. "And I know I can trust you."
Fitz steeled himself to hear all about Tripp.
"You're going to be horrified."
"I won't Jemma. It's ok."
She looked unconvinced but charged ahead. "You know what I thought when I heard that Tripp was dead?"
"What did you think?"
She looked down. "I thanked the God I don't even believe in for what Ward did to you."
Her words hit him like a knife. He stiffened, loosening his hold on her.
She turned and saw the hurt shock on his face. She started explaining, the words pouring out of her. "Fitz, I know that if you had been fully confident in your abilities, and you heard that Skye and Coulson were down in those tunnels, you would have disappeared back down there with Tripp to disarm the explosives." A sob escaped her. "We wouldn't just be mourning for him tonight, we'd be mourning for you too, and my heart would be broken."
It took a moment for the implication of her words to filter through his initial hostility. "But I thought you…"
"I was never in love with him, Fitz."
"You weren't?"
She looked down at her hands. "Tripp was an amazing man, and, of course, I'm devastated that he's gone, but losing him has made me realise how much I couldn't survive losing you."
"We've been through this before, remember?" Fitz smiled sadly. "I'm your best friend in the world."
Jemma shook her head, smiling. "You're more than that, Fitz."
He looked back at her, hearing the echo in her words, but not fully computing their meaning.
"I told Bobbi just this morning that I was confused, that when you said those words to me I'd never thought of you beyond who you were as my friend but that I couldn't imagine my life without you."
Fitz smiled hopefully.
"We lost Tripp only hours ago and in those hours, some things have become very clear. I know now that losing you would kill me, and not just because I'd be losing my best friend. If it had been you…" Jemma broke down at the thought, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing.
"Shhh, Jemma," Fitz whispered, stroking her hair. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"I don't want you to be a hero, Fitz. And I don't want you to go to the garage. I want you with me, leading the Science Division. I need you there. We can still work together. We did this morning, remember?"
"Hang on, Jemma," Fitz interjected. "Can we just go back a step?"
"Back to when I told you I was in love with you too?" She twinkled at him through her tears.
"So that was what happened just then?" he asked, smiling.
Jemma nodded. "I loved Tripp like a brother, but realising my feelings for him were sisterly meant I had to work out how to understand my feelings for you." She looked away a moment. "My feelings for you aren't sisterly, Fitz."
Fitz didn't fail to catch the intriguing emphasis on the word "aren't" – he looked forward to experiencing how that might work itself out in practice.
They were already wrapped tightly in one another's arms. Leaning in so that their lips could meet was the easiest, most natural thing in the world, though the simplicity of the movement couldn't hope to minimise the fireworks that exploded in each of their nervous systems.
The biologist in Jemma was utterly unprepared for the rush that was her first personal experience of oxytocin. Even Fitz, who'd been in touch with his feelings for so long, was stunned by the intensity of the sensation of finally getting to kiss her. He felt almost drunk with it.
But the pain of losing one of their own forced them back into reality. The sadness on the plane permeated the entire atmosphere. They broke apart.
Fitz stroked her face. "I better just go and see if anyone needs us for anything, hey?"
Jemma nodded. "But if they don't," she added, "Remember that I need you here."
Fitz smiled. "I'm not very likely to forget that, am I?"
"Do you think Tripp would be happy for us, Fitz?" Jemma asked.
Fitz shook his head. "If I were him and I had to see you in someone else's arms, "happy" would not be the word I would choose." He thought for a moment. "But if I were him, and there was any sort of afterlife in which I'd be conscious of what was going on here, I'd like to think that I'd be happy to see you happy, however it came about."
"Well, as you've probably gleaned," Jemma sighed, "I am the most mixed-up mess of emotion right now, mainly because I feel guilty about how deliriously happy I feel."
Fitz chuckled. "I second that emotion."
Jemma looked at him quizzically.
"Sorry, that was a little hard to take seriously, wasn't it?"
She nodded, grinning.
"Speaking of things that are a little hard to take seriously, have you noticed today's date?"
Jemma rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have picked you as the sentimental type, Fitz. Surely we can worry about when to celebrate our anniversary later."
Fitz chuckled. "I hadn't given even a thought to anniversaries! I like the idea of it though." He punched a few buttons on his eighties-style computer watch and held it out to her. "No, look.!" He was showing her the calendar function. "What I meant was, it's the 24th December."
"Christmas Eve!" Jemma breathed.
"Precisely," he nodded, smiling.
She looked suddenly miffed.
"What is it?"
"I've never had a boyfriend before, let alone a boyfriend on Christmas Eve. Had I known, I would have showered you with gifts."
Fitz smirked. "I'm suddenly a boyfriend, am I? And your boyfriend at that. That's more than enough of a gift for me, Jemma. Perhaps if we get to have one of those anniversaries you mentioned, you can shower me with gifts next year?"
Jemma beamed. "And I have all this time to plan!"
Fitz stretched himself out on Jemma's bed, resting his arms behind his head. "I can't see S.H.I.E.L.D. caring how many shopping days there are til Christmas, can you? How else did we get to Christmas Eve without even noticing?"
Jemma snuggled herself next to him. "I suppose you're right. We're too busy trying to avoid death and destruction to even get to the sales."
Fitz was silent for a moment, then he sat up. "I better just go and see…"
Jemma nodded. "See, I told you there were terrible thoughts swirling around in my head. I'd better not come with you."
Fitz maneuvered himself off the bed and made as if to slide the door open but seemed to think better of it. He turned back and kneeled beside her. He stroked a strand of hair away from her face. "I can't believe you love me, Jemma."
She smiled. "I do, though. Quite passionately."
He leant forward and kissed her. "And you already know that I love you," he murmured against her lips. "That's been out there for a while now."
"But I don't mind hearing it again," she murmured back. "You should probably tell me every hour or so."
He chuckled. "I thought I was the one with the memory issues."
She gave him an affectionate shove. "That is not why you should keep telling me."
"I know," he whispered, smiling. "I'll need you to tell me every hour or so too." He got to his feet and then leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon."
"With tea?"
He nodded emphatically. "Absolutely. With tea."
"And see if Skye needs me, won't you?"
"I think I saw her follow May and Coulson to his office," Fitz replied. "And anyway," he grinned, "I need you, remember?"
"Are you going to tell the others about it being Christmas Eve?" Jemma asked, her face uncertain.
Fitz thought for a moment and then shook his head. "I don't think it's really the time, do you?"
"Probably not." She suddenly found herself humming the tune of a carol. She had been quite a good singer at school. The words came unbidden.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices!
Oh night divine, Oh night, when Christ was born.
Oh night divine, Oh night, Oh holy night.
Fitz squeezed her hand. "Maybe it's just the right time."
FIN
Well, have a lovely Christmas, all! May you know that thrill of hope in this weary world, and rejoice!
Not sure how long I can keep up this sorry pastime. I think this story is in definite decline. There are only so many ways these two can get together without me just cutting and pasting one story straight into the next! Let's hope the writers will take over and do the hard work of getting them together for me and letting me off the hook! ;)