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Fitz makes an offhand comment about her crush on Melinda May, and it bothers Jemma on a couple of different levels—first because it’s not true, it isn’t, Fitz thinks he can read her, and usually he can, but he’s wrong this time, but second because Ward is right there.

And it bothers her that it bothers her.

Because he’s going to say it, his big-and-brawny, S.H.I.E.L.D.-puppy eyes are going to go adorably confused (and if he has even a shred of bi-curiosity beneath the ‘super-secret secret agent’ façade, she is definitely going to shove Fitz in his direction. At least one of them needs to take advantage of that jaw-line and those biceps) and he’s going to say “But I thought you two were—” and Jemma will have to read him the riot act about assumptions of heteronormativity, because apparently that’s her purpose in life, and then Ward will never want to work with them again.

They’ve lost a lot of agents and been reassigned to a lot of new teams that way.

Generally Jemma doesn’t mind, but then generally generic secret agents with super secret jaw-lines don’t stick around to get Chinese takeout after the mission, especially after they’ve watched Fitz smash their tech with a mallet (it’s definitely abrasive, but it gives him so much joy she doesn’t really mind) and it’s possible that she’s gotten a little attached.

She looks up at Ward and waits, but the brow-furrow of concern never comes. Instead, he smiles a little and asks Fitz, “Oh, like you don’t? She’s Melinda May.”

“Exactly,” Jemma says, smiling a little more than the comment warrants.

Fitz looks up from the wrist watch he’s been tinkering with in his downtime, crooked smile on his face, and says. “Not really my area,” and then, to Jemma, “You know that. She’s bloody terrifying, though, so I get it—just your type.”

Jemma snatches the last egg roll before Ward can reach it take that, field agent training she thinks a little viciously, and thinks that maybe it’ll all work out after all.