"Swapsies"

"You have way too much time on your hands," Bruce said, looking at Steve and Johnny. They were wearing each other's costumes, and would be arriving at the charity gala separately, with each other's respective teams.

"More a screwed up sense of humour," Tony muttered. "Good thing their costumes are made out of stretchy material. Not your levels of stretchy material, of course…"

"I don't know who's a worse influence on the other," Clint said.

"Close call," Bruce agreed.

"You've collected all the betting pool details, right?"

"Winner gets the satisfaction of being right, charity gets the money."

"The concept of capitalism really doesn't appeal to any of you, does it?" Tony asked.

"Shut up, Tony," Steve said automatically. "You sure we'll fool everyone?"

"Absolutely," Natasha said as she walked into the room. "Now get going, Storm. I mean Steve." She grimaced. "I hate you both for doing this. Even spies have limits. St… Steve, go join the Fantastic Four. Storm, you're with us."

"Good luck," Johnny said, shaking Steve's hand.

"You too," Steve said.

Skye's smirk was very nearly audible.

"This is so worth having to wear formal clothes," she said as the young agents all stared up at the front of the convention centre. "Where are the adults?"

"Back here," Coulson said. "Go on. We'll be right behind you."

"You should be going before us," Jemma said, trying to stand aside. But Skye latched onto her arm.

"You heard the man," she said firmly. "Let's go. I got us the tickets—"

"Illegally," Coulson muttered.

"The least you can do is make a good entrance with me," Skye continued.

Jemma heard Fitz sigh on the other side of her. Skye virtually had to drag them up the stairs, while all the older agents followed more sedately. Jemma was glad that at least her dress wasn't long enough to risk tripping on it, and May had excellent taste when it came to nice shoes a woman could still run in. Fitz kept wanting to fiddle with his tie, did fiddle with it every few minutes, so that there was always someone having to bat his hand away from it.

"This'll be great," Skye said. "A night where we can just drink champagne, have caviar on crackers, and meet up with the Avengers."

"Don't you dare jinx us," Jemma admonished.

"Hey, I'm the last person to want that." All three, arms still linked, wandered into the ballroom, and Jemma felt Fitz tense beside her. She had feared that a situation such as this may overwhelm him, but a glance reassured her that he wasn't too bad at the moment. However, she made a mental note to keep an eye on him. "Okay, team. Let's split up and work the room."

"Split up?" Fitz replied in a sort of squeak.

"Well, I'm going over here," Skye said. "You can stay joined at the hip if you want, but I figured that with your soulmarks…" She trailed off, and Jemma noticed the way Fitz's shoulders slumped.

"You're right," he muttered. "I know you're right. We should be taking every chance we have. And it's not like we're not surrounded by super powered people."

"Exactly," Skye said. "So I'll see you later. Fly, my pretties. Fly." She immediately headed towards the buffet, and Jemma remembered that Skye never would have seen opulence like this as a child, not until she joined SHIELD. And certainly not the kind of opulence a man like Tony Stark could afford. She squeezed Fitz's arm, and he nodded at her before wandering off. Jemma twiddled her thumbs, and then made her way in the opposite direction. There were plenty of people around, and they were wearing trackers which would vibrate if any of them were more than a block away from each other at any given moment. It was a big room, but well within the distance Skye and Fitz had allowed in the design.

Jemma dipped a finger into the glass of wine she picked up, and the nail polish didn't change colour, so she presumed that the drink was safe. She took a few sips, taking in her surroundings, and observed a few members of the Fantastic Four. One of them, the Human Torch, was engaged in an animated conversation with someone, about space travel she could only assume, but when their eyes met she glanced away. It felt intrusive, and she drank a bit more wine. There was movement out of the corner of her eye, and she realised that staying in one place would look rather suspicious. As she began to move towards one of the tables of food – she needed to eat something to absorb the alcohol – someone stepped half in front of her. She pulled up short, and opened her mouth to ask Johnny Storm what he thought he was doing, when he nearly bowled her over.

"What's a beautiful lady like you doing alone at a party?" he asked, and he grinned winningly. Or perhaps he thought it was charming. Jemma was suddenly not in the right frame of mind to decide. She gripped her glass, grateful that she hadn't dropped it, and inhaled slowly.

"Waiting for someone to ask me why," she said, proud of how steady her voice was.

"…Oh," he said, and he blinked. "Shit. Wow, I'm…"

"You're?" she prompted, her heart sinking. His smile swiftly returned.

"The luckiest guy in the room," he said, and he held out his hand. "Hi. I'm st… so happy to meet you. S-stunned, I mean. You're stunning." Jemma shyly offered her hand, still trying to work out why Johnny Storm was her soulmate. "I'm usually more eloquent than this. But you only meet your soulmate once, and… I'm doing really badly, aren't I?"

"On the contrary," she said. "You're doing very well."

"Wow," he repeated. "I must have a type. I m-mean, my first love… uh, crush, she was English. And brunette. And pretty as a picture."

"Huh." She sipped more wine. "I'm surprised. I never really thought of the Human Torch having a first love. Any sort, really. From your reputation…"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Say, you haven't told me your name yet."

"Dr. Jemma Simmons," she said, and she realised that they were still holding hands.

"A doctor. Really? You're so young."

"So are you." She reluctantly let go of his hand. "I really would have thought your skin would be warmer."

"…Wouldn't wanna burn you."

"Oh." She beamed. "That's sweet of you."

She never thought that Johnny Storm could look bashful – again, judging by what she'd heard of him, which really wasn't fair – but his cheeks definitely had a pink tinge to them.

"S-so," he said. "You never answered my question. Why you're here by yourself."

"I'm not," she said. "I came with other people. My friends are… well, they're somewhere around. I must introduce you to them."

"I need to introduce you to some people, too," he said, looking around. "Uh… oh! Let's start with… Captain America. Since he's just over there."

Jemma brightened when she saw where he was pointing. "That's Fitz with him! He's been my best friend for years." She entwined the fingers of her right hand with his left. "Two introductions out of the way at once."

"Lucky for me," he said faintly.

Fitz skilfully avoided conversation with strangers he didn't recognise, and went straight for the desserts. He could see Skye's look of amusement, but she was hardly one to talk. Admittedly, she went to savouries first, but sweets went better with champagne. Everyone knew that. Not that he intended to drink; any excuse for sweets, though. They were tiny, which meant that he could feel less guilty about trying one of everything which looked appetising, and they all looked appetising.

"I'll save regret for the morning," he told himself, and he popped a mini cherry chocolate tart into his mouth. Yum. Then again, it would look odd if he skulked around the table all evening, not to mention extremely antisocial. He grabbed a few more sweets, resolved to come back later for more – unless these proved rich enough to put him off chocolate for three months – and tried not to look suspicious as he wended his way around crowds. He'd just popped some caramel concoction into his mouth whole, when he saw Captain America talking to some admirers, with possibly the most earnest expression Fitz had ever seen.

Steve Rogers was a soldier, so Fitz knew he wouldn't be as wholesome as so many Americans liked to think. That was more Jemma's type, the good-boy-with-sad-depth image, but no one could've denied that he was pretty to look at. Fitz hadn't found his soulmate yet, so there was no harm in looking, was there? And there was definitely something more magnetic about Steve Rogers in person than there was in video footage and photographs. Even better than the way Coulson talked about him, and he talked about the captain as if he'd hung the moon.

One of the… okay, the only reason they were at the gala was to make contact with the Avengers in a setting where they'd have to continue to be polite and professional, no matter how pissed off they were at Coulson. It was for charity, after all. The space would have been swept for bugs, the guest list would've been ruthlessly checked, which made it safe neutral(-ish) territory. Enough for an exchange of contact information, at least.

It was not for Fitz to ogle superheroes, especially ones he never thought would appeal to his appreciation for the bad boy types. (His instincts were a little too spot-on with Ward, not spot-on enough with Mack, though he'd been forgiven for the whole thing with 'real' SHIELD.)

Oops. He'd been caught staring. Fitz blushed as he looked away, and shoved the last of the mini desserts into his gob, something covered with coconut, and it sat in his cheek for a few seconds while he sucked bits of coconut off his fingers. He saw that the captain was staring at him with a wicked grin. Okay, perhaps Steve Rogers was even less innocent than Fitz had supposed. He chewed hurriedly on the coconut thing which was creating a less than innocent bulge in his mouth, and wondered whether he should get a drink to wash it down, when he noticed the captain approaching. Oh God.

Wait. Perhaps the grin was meant for someone else? He turned his head, but there didn't seem to be anyone behind him looking in their direction.

When he turned back, Steve Rogers was right there, smiling down at him.

"I wasn't staring, I promise," Fitz said. "At least not for the reasons you think. Not that I know what you were thinking."

He clamped his lips shut, glad that it was just them. If one of the team had been there, he never would've lived it down. The captain's eyes widened for a few seconds, and then his smile turned even more sly, and Fitz wondered whether that kind of smile was even legal in public.

"Please tell me you came here alone," the captain replied, and oh. Oh. Okay, Fitz had not been expecting that, and he'd have to thank Skye for getting tickets for the whole team, not just Coulson and May.

"No," Fitz said. The smile dimmed. "I mean, I didn't. Come here alone. I'm with m-my team. Friends. But no, I mean, not… only alone in that… uh…"

"Date?"

"Yes, please!" He frowned. "Oh, no date. I don't have one. Never do. Is that… What were you asking?"

The captain chuckled lowly. "You're here with a group?" Fitz nodded. "So you don't have a date?"

He swallowed. "Not at the moment." Time to be brave. "W-would you like to change that? Or… or d'you prefer a… a platonic—"

"No!" He sawed his hands in front of Fitz. "No. I've waited too damn long, and you're so cute I wanna eat you up right the hell now. Definitely not platonic."

Fitz could've swooned with the relief. "Good. I'm Fitz. Leo Fitz, but most people use my last name, so I'm used to Fitz."

"I'd make some God-awful joke about how it 'fits' you, but I'm scared you might punch me," he said seriously.

"Yeah, right," Fitz muttered. "I'd probably break my hand against you. I'll try to keep my friend Simmons away from you. She'd want to examine you, bloody bio-scientist. You're safer with me. D'you know much about engineering?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes, I do! A hell of a lot, actually. You can talk engineering?"

"More than talk. Better at building than talking, really, you might've noticed." He cocked his head. "I suppose you've learnt a lot since waking up in this century."

"What?"

Oh. Right. He probably thought Fitz was a civilian.

"I-I just meant, with everyone thinking you were dead, but you're obviously not," he said quickly. The captain relaxed again. "T-that's all."

"Of course," he said. "Uh… Maybe I should introduce you to people? My family… uh, my team—"

"No, I understand the concept of team as family," Fitz said. "Trust me."

"I'll just see… oh, look! Ca… uh, J-Johnny Storm—"

"Is with Simmons!" He grinned at his soulmate. "I have to introduce you to her. Come on." He grabbed hold of the captain's hand, which was extremely warm. Was it something to do with the serum? That was more Jemma's field of expertise, not that he was allowing her to cut up Captain America.

Steve was overcome with guilt as he led Jemma to Johnny and her friend. She thought her soulmate was the Human Torch, and he could only hope that she wouldn't be disappointed when the truth was revealed. He'd been doing a good job at 'being' Johnny Storm up `til then. Then he'd seen her, and she'd said his words, and it was hard to remember who he was supposed to be when all he wanted to do was kiss his soulmate, who thought he was someone else.

What a damn mess. They had to get this straightened out as soon as possible. He hoped that the look he gave Johnny conveyed that message. Then again, Johnny seemed to be trying to give him a significant look as well.

"Fitz, you'll never guess!" Jemma said as soon as they were only a couple of yards away from each other.

The curly-haired youngster beside Johnny glanced between them. "That's statistically impossible. Ah, hell, when have statistics ever meant a damn thing?"

"You're joking," Jemma said. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my gosh, I'm so happy for you, Fitz!"

"You too, Simmons," he said, and they hugged. "Both of us meeting our soulmates on the same night. Who'd have thought it?" They stepped back from each other, and Steve's jaw dropped as he met Johnny's widening eyes.

"The hell?" Johnny said.

"Really?" Steve said.

"I suppose it was meant to happen," Jemma said. "We're FitzSimmons, after all."

"And our soulmates look almost exactly alike," Fitz said. "Twinsies!"

More like 'Swapsies', Steve thought, trying to make his grimace look like a smile.

"It's uncanny," Jemma continued, and really, it wasn't going to be long before they figured it out. These two seemed to have their own language which just sounded like English. "Of course, I don't know how different they might be without costumes."

"And yours is probably unnaturally warm," Fitz said. Steve lowered his eyes, and wanted to kick Johnny when the Human Torch's lips quirked at the corners. "Mine feels warm, from the serum I'll bet, but yours—"

"We're right here," Johnny said. Quite frankly, Steve felt they didn't have any grounds for indignation.

"Actually, he's the temperature of an ordinary human being," Jemma said. "I was quite surprised."

"Huh." Fitz snickered. "Funny that you're the one with the Human Torch, but I'm the one whose soulmate is several degrees warmer…" He trailed off, exchanged a look with Jemma, and they both turned their full attention on Johnny and Steve.

"Uh…" Steve never said he was eloquent in social situations.

"You didn't," Jemma said in a flat tone.

"You did, didn't you?" Fitz added, looking at Johnny.

"Kind of?" Johnny said. "There's a betting pool involved now."

"So who is my soulmate?" Jemma asked, crossing her arms as she stared at Steve, arching an eyebrow. He squirmed.

"The guy… who usually wears that," he said, gesturing at the Captain America uniform with his eyes.

"Y'know, some things are starting to make sense," Fitz said.

"They are indeed," Jemma said, still eyeing Steve and making him feel uncomfortable (in more ways than one, goddamnit).

"I'd love t' go shoutin' to everyone that I've found my soulmate," Steve said, "but they'd all think you're… someone else's soulmate, which isn't fair to any of us. And it takes a hell of a long time to get in and out of the Captain America suit, I swear, it seriously isn't worth the effort when I… I mean, Johnny's gotta make a short speech, and I don't know whether he… I mean, whether I have to say something to everyone on the behalf of… of his team, and we're never doing this again, I swear to God, it's too confusing."

"So we got out soulmates around the wrong way when we met them," Fitz said.

"Hardly our fault, Fitz," Jemma said.

"Look," Johnny said, and crossing his arms like that made him appear more like Steve, especially when he dropped his voice. "Leo Fitz, I have your words on my body. They're not on… on his. You're my soulmate. This is just a stupid costume."

"Says the guy who wears the same blue lycra as the rest of his team," Steve muttered.

"At least my name isn't cheesy," Johnny countered. He shook his head. "We're getting off-track here. Look, if you want us to change in the bathroom, we can. It'll make it easier for you to tell us apart out in the future, when we're out in the field."

"I don't always wear this in battle," Steve said. "This is more for events. And you're usually on fire and flyin' around."

There was a pause, and then Fitz whispered something into Jemma's ear. Steve felt that flare of jealousy again, especially when she smiled.

"What a good plan," she said. "Very well, gentlemen. Keep up the charade for as long as you can. You will be judged on how well you do. The better your performance this evening, the better the rewards shall be. I hope you are amenable to our suggestion?"

"I'm not gonna ask where your soulmark is located, `cause it could make the rest of tonight extremely uncomfortable, if you know what I mean," Johnny told Fitz.

"Well, perhaps I'd better not tell you the kind of reward you'll get if you keep this up for another two hours," Fitz said, unblinking. Johnny looked like he wanted to devour his soulmate, and the only thing holding him back was Steve's hand.

"We're not sullying anyone's reputation by carrying on with them in public while we're wearing each other's clothes," Steve murmured. He felt Johnny's sigh more than he heard it, and didn't let go until he felt it was safe.

"Soon as tonight's over and we're in private, all bets are off," Johnny said. "Clothes, too, I hope."

"I'd never be able to look at Simmons' soulmate again if his doppelganger fucked me in his suit," Fitz said, and Steve heard Johnny's quiet whine.

"I quite like the suit," Jemma said, trailing a finger down Steve's arm. He was pretty sure his and Johnny's soulmates were trying to kill them.

Anything I tried to write after that felt clunky and awkward, so I discarded it in favour of the humorous ending, especially after the drama of the previous chapter.

Fitz/Johnny was for Anon. I was inspired by the Johnny/Phil/Steve chapter 'Mistaken Identity': what if they were pretending to be each other when both met their soulmates, only they didn't want to reveal what they were doing in a public place? Good thing FitzSimmons are geniuses.

Please review!

Fun fact: my mother once bought me a chocolate muffin which was so damn rich – chocolate batter, chocolate chips, chocolate syrup, icing sugar – that I was put off chocolate for three months as a consequence. Literally felt ill every time I thought about it. Good thing that wore off. :D Perhaps not so good for my waistline, but chocolate is chocolate.