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When he saw her, he just kind of stood there, stunned. So that was his co-star. Jittery with nerves, he walked up and offered his hand. "Hi. I'm Fitz. Well, Leo Fitz, but only my mum calls me that." She smile and took his hand, shaking it with a smile.
"Oh, you must be the other lead. My name's Jemma, Jemma Simmons," she introduced herself. "Skye's told me loads about you. This is your first big break, too, right?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Been on a few shows as one or two episode characters, done a YouTube web series, but this is my first biggie. You, as well, then?"
"Yeah. I'm relatively new to acting- I was working in biochemistry until Raina, my classmate, heard about my hobby and made me audition."
"Oh, wow. Yeah, I work engineering, this was more of a side job, generate a little extra money on weekends, that sort of thing. My roommate’s Skye’s boyfriend, and since he’s is running security and Skye’s does about everything physically possible around here, he told me I should try out."
"Oh, really? Engineering..." Suddenly, her eyes brightened and she perked up. "Hey, is it possible you could help me out with something? I'm trying to make an administration device for this formula, see, and..." She let her voice trail off, slowly looking up with new uncertainty. "Um, only if you want to, though. You don't have to, it's-"
"Oh, no, I'd love to help!" he cut in, watching as a smile broke over her face to match his own. "But I do have to ask- if I help you with this, can you help me with mine? See, I'm trying to make a gun that won't kill- it'll only paralyze or put to sleep or something. I've created capsules like bullets and stuff, but now I need a solution to-"
"Dendrotoxin!"
"What?"
"Dendrotoxin. I've been working with the dendrotoxins of jellyfish recently, and-" As they began throwing ideas back and forth, Fitz couldn't help but feel a warm familiarity, like he had known her a lot longer than the ten, encroaching on twenty minutes they had been talking. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he began throwing around theories of application methods for her serum, exchanging ideas and theories as if they had worked together for a lifetime.
“… Did you two already know each other?” Both scientists quieted at once, turning to face a puzzled Skye.
“No,” they answered together. Skye raised an eyebrow.
“You answered in unison.”
“Your point?” Jemma quipped.
“That’s irrelevant,” Fitz snapped at the same time. The light smirk on Skye’s face slowly grew into a grin as she glanced between them.
“You two are the leads, right?” The engineer’s brow furrowed.
“… Yes…” The grin grew wider.
“Well, that’s fitting. I helped Raina write this thing, you know. And, well, the leads were originally based off of… you two,” she finished, hyena grin complete. The stopped and looked at each other, then back at Skye.
“Really?” they chorused, glancing between each other.
“Well, the basics. Brilliant biochemist doctor who can figure out how the victim was killed,” Skye said gesturing to Jemma, “and a loveable idiot who can build and use weapons to take the guilty guy down,” she said gesturing to the other scientist standing next to her with a grin splitting her face. “Seriously. I always thought my two idiot adopted-siblings-but-not-really would be, like, a dynamic duo or something. And look at you!” she cooed, hands on either side of her face. “You’re even more couple-y than I thought you’d be!”
There was a long pause. Then, in complete sync-
“What?!” Immediately the two were off rambling, and Skye could only catch bits and pieces as their words and sentences layered and wove around each other.
“You did what now-”
“-and of all nerve, saying-”
“-what is this-”
“-some giant scheme you cooked up or something-”
“-set this up-”
“-set us up-”
“-the hell, Skye-”
“-completely irrational.”
“-utterly idiotic.” They both stopped mere seconds of each other and then froze as Skye started to crack up. By the time the blatantly red scientists had gathered their bearings, she was doubled over, trying to breathe through the bursts of laughter. The two met eyes, Jemma gave a large sigh, and they turned as one towards the set, kicking off another conversation within seconds and ignoring the wheezing noises behind them.
“I’ll make a y-incision here and extract the bullet so we can find the gun it matches.” As the scalpel made sticky, moist noises through the fleshy prop, Leo cringed and turned away.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” With that, he walked off the scene and watched as Jemma continued her work for the transition montage. He cringed as she poked tweezers into the flesh, making more of the noises that made Fitz flinch back, even though Skye had taken him through the prop-making process and explained twenty times over and that no, Fitzy, it’s not real flesh, stop being a baby.
“And… cut!” called the director. Jemma looked up and removed her gloves, sticky red with corn-syrup blood.
“Was that good?” she asked him, beaming.
“Definitely… well, gross enough.” Her grin bubbled into laughter at his disgruntled expression and she waved the sticky gloves teasingly in his face.
“Oh, Fitz.” After a momentary pause, she threw the gloves into the trash and continued, “Well, do you want to meet up after they clear this shoot? The first batch of dendrotoxin’s about ready for small-scale testing on mice.”
“Sounds good,” he responded, a light smile pulling at his lips.
“Alright, that one’s good! We’re wrapping up for today,” a voice called over the set. Jemma’s head turned towards the sound, then back to him, eager eyes and lips turned up at the edges.
“When and where?” she quipped.
“Umm, d’ya want to come over to my place? You can bring the mice and stuff, right?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, in… a few hours maybe? I should probably tidy up a bit, so…” Fitz’s brow furrowed with internal calculations. “An hour and a half should be about right. Sound good?” he asked, eyes focusing on her again.
“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then!”
It was exactly one-and-a-half hours later when Fitz heard a rap at the door.
“Hey,” he breathed, suddenly nervous as he opened the door and found her standing there, one arm clutching a large metal briefcase and the other folded nervously over and grasping the other.
“Hey,” she said in turn, flushing a touch and shifting in place.
“Come in,” he offered, moving aside to let her through. She smiled and headed for the couch, so he closed the door behind her. When he turned back from re-doing the latch, he found her setting up what appeared to be a mini chemistry lab, complete with two lab rats squeaking in their cages.
“You recognize my building has a strict “no pets” rule, right?”
“Your point?”
“The, well,” he said, gesturing to where the rodents were scurrying around, trying to get their minds around this strange new location.
“Ah. They’ll be leaving with me, no worries.”
“I mean right now.”
“Nobody saw them coming in.”
“And what if someone knocks?”
“We stick them back in the briefcase. Honestly, Fitz.”
“If we get caught I blame you.”
“Deal. Now seriously, are you going to come and work?”
“In a moment. Tea?” Absentmindedly, he started up a pot on the stove, eyes still glancing back at the rats in the living room.
“Yes please,” she replied, finishing up setup. “A touch of milk and a half-spoon of sugar?”
“Sure,” she said, getting out two mugs as the kettle started to whistle. As he finished prepping the drinks, he walked over to find her staring at him in utter horror.
“What?”
“Would you like some tea with that milk and sugar?”
“Oh, be quiet,” he sighed as he handed her his mug. “You and my mum, I swear.” Jemma just smirked at this and took a sip, closing her eyes with a warm smile on her face. She looks so peaceful… Shaking himself back to reality, Fitz realized he was staring and quickly turned away to grab for the Night-Night gun prototype.
“You’re awfully red, Fitz,” commented Jemma as he turned back to her. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, fine,” he said quickly. She scrunched up her brow a bit, but let it pass.
“Okay, so how large can the bullets be? I need to test the ratio of liquid used to the body mass to see if this concentration will work.” Flipping through the design papers he had brought out, Fitz handed her one with the dimensions and layout of the bullet capsules.
“Haven’t had time to make them yet, unfortunately. Is that alright?”
“Mm-hmm…” she hummed, eyes affixed to the paper and hardly acknowledging she’d heard him. The edges of his lips curled up in amusement and he waited for her to finish as she grabbed a pencil and started scratching out calculations in the margins. Mere minutes later, she looked up and immediately began to fill a small syringe with blue liquid from a vial.
“Uh- wait- what are you-”
“Testing. I have a ratio that will work on the rats, and I shaved their bellies earlier, if applied, then it should knock the poor thing out. Open the cage please?” Looking up with a quarter-full syringe, she watched as he unlatched the cage and slipped a hand inside to hand her one of their test subjects. “Thank you,” she said, now holding the poor creature so it was belly-up in front of her. With a quick motion, she squirted all of the liquid onto the squirming creature’s body. Almost immediately, it was absorbed and Leo could see little blue streaks disappearing on the skin. As soon as it was absorbed, the creature went limp.
Leo stared.
Jemma did, too.
“Is it… Is it still alive?” asked Fitz in a slow voice tinged with nerves. Quickly, Jemma pressed the little body into his hands and rummaged around for a stethoscope, taking it back from Fitz’s horrified, frozen hands in another heartbeat and pressing the circular end to the chest of the small rodent. Her expression softened as she listened and a relieved breath flew through the engineer’s lips.
“Vitals are steady.”
“Thank god.” Jemma smiled at him and Fitz reveled in the moment, smiling back and getting a little lost in how pretty her eyes were. Finally, they darted away from where he was and she paled, fixating on the rat cage.
“Fitz.” Her voice was tense, strung tighter than a piano string. He followed her gaze to find… an empty cage and an open door. There was a pause.
“Shite.”
“…You know what I said about taking responsibility for the rats?” she whispered.
“Yep.”
“I take it back. This is 100% on you.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem, mister I-leave-cage-doors-wide-open-so-grade-A-lab-rats-can-run-free.”
“Oi, you gave me no time before you put that one there to sleep!” he protested loudly.
“It takes five seconds to close a cage door! Actually, less than!”
“Well you-” Suddenly, he was cut off from a clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. The partners locked eyes and in a half-second Jemma had the sleeping rat tucked away in the cage, door safely shut, and was racing towards the kitchen, Leo hot on her heels.
Long story short, the night ended with eleven bruises, ten occasions of Fitz and Simmons tripping over each other, six loud screams as the rat popped out from unexpected places, eight instances of the impromptu rat-catchers slamming into various pieces of furniture and counters, two exhausted and banged-up scientists, and one deeply irritated, but finally caught, rat.
“Agreement to never, ever bring rats here again?” groaned Fitz as he flopped on the couch. Jemma mimicked his groan as she stuck the third padlock on the cage door and flopped down on top of him, using his chest as a pillow and absent-mindedly curling into his warmth.
“Agreed.”
When they woke up the next morning to the sun poking its head through the curtains, Fitz just groaned and used one hand to pull Simmons closer to him and the other to his eyes to block out the sun. Jemma snuggled further into the warmth, hardly noticing that she was snuggling closer to her partner and falling back asleep instead. Fitz followed her rhythmic breathing into sleep once more, pushing off the inevitable awkwardness for at least another hour of blissful rest.
When they actually woke up, Jemma was the first to actually realize what position they were in. After about ten minutes of indecision- he was warm and cuddling was very, very lovely but then what about the awkwardness and the implications and the- she cut herself off and decided the best plan of action would be to disappear. Now. Carefully, very, very carefully, she tried to pull herself out from under Fitz’s arm without waking him. Of course, half-way out, he woke up.
“Wha-” he mumbled as she darted the rest of the way out of his arms.
“Uh, Fitz, we passed out after the fiasco last night, don’t worry, it’s about eight in the morning on a Saturday, you can sleep in, I just should probably be getting home-” He cut off her rambling by blinking himself awake and sitting up. Almost immediately he flushed red and looked away.
“Oh, yeah, just let me help you clean up, yeah?”
“Sure,” she said off-handedly, moving to clean up the test tubes of dendrotoxin.
Twenty minutes of awkward cleaning later, she waved goodbye as he closed the door behind her.
Five minutes later, her in her car and he on the couch, both Fitz and Simmons put their heads in their hands and let out long groans, letting the mixture of strange feelings out through clenched teeth and spinning minds.
On Monday, everything was back to normal. Nothing beyond the chaos with the escapee rat was mentioned. And both Fitz and Simmons wondered if they should bring it up, but neither of them ever did.
Sometimes preserving a friendship is more important.
A week and three days later, Skye approached them during a break in filming. Not even bothering with pleasantries, she immediately said, “I have a name for you two.”
“What?”
“Pardon?” Skye sighed and rolled her eyes at their synchronization.
“It’s not like I really talk to just one of you anymore. So you guys have one name now.” There was a pause as the two stared at her, brows furrowed and eyes puzzled. “What? Completely justified,” she protested against the scrutinizing stares.
“Prep for the next shot!” called a voice over set. Skye smirked and turned to leave, throwing one last comment back before she did.
“Alright, see you later, FitzSimmons!”
As she walked off, she could practically hear the confusion behind her. Then, a single question from two mouths.
“FitzSimmons?”
Three weeks later, they were sitting at the table as Coulson, the director of the entire project, finished looking over the footage and called it a day. Fitz was playing with his folded hands on the table, fiddling his fingers over each other, undoing them and re-doing them over and over again. His partner was sipping a cup of chamomile next to him and let out a little sigh of relief as the director approved the last scene, muttering "thank god," under her breath.
"So do you want to come over and work on the Night-Night gun? I think it's almost ready for full-scale testing," he offered. "I have everything ready to fill the capsules in my apartment."
She beamed at him, nodding even before she said, "I'd love to. You have a stove that I’m allowed to finish brewing another batch of the formula on, right?"
"Of course. Just don’t spill."
"Perfect. What time should I come over?"
"Is an hour enough time?"
"That sounds lovely," she said with a smile and a gentle hand on his. "I better get back to my place and get everything ready before I head over. See you in an hour!" With that, she stood, gave his hand a squeeze, and left.
"You're completely moony," said a voice next to him, snapping him out of his trance. Turning, he saw Skye sliding into the recently vacated seat.
"Am not!"
"Little Leo's in lo-o-o-o-ove," she sang.
"Bugger off."
"Fitzy and Jemma, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
"Skye."
"Admit it- you're totes into her."
"You're the annoying little sister I never wanted."
"Awww, love you, too," she laughed. "Anywho, you better get on home. Don't want to miss your date!"
"You're the first person we're testing the Night-Night gun on," he grumbled in response, getting up and walking out.
"Bye-bye, Leo!" she called after him, laughter lacing her words.
Six hours later, he held the gun out in front of him and took a deep breath.
“You sure, Jemma?”
“Absolutely,” she said from across the room. “I’ve calculated everything. I tested the quantity of dendrotoxin at home, even. I’ll wake up in ten minutes.”
“I still can’t believe you did that.”
“It was perfectly safe.”
“But what if I did something wrong and you get hurt or something?”
“You’ve shot placebo capsules at dummies. We know it doesn’t even break skin, Fitz.”
“What if I did these wrong, though?”
“I trust you and your work.”
“But what if?” Jemma sighed and walked across the room so she could stand in front of him as he lowered the gun to his side and stared at his feet.
“Leo.” He looked at her in mild surprise, their eyes locking. “Leopold Fitz, I trust you. I know that you have created this and I trust in your design and your brain and the fact that you would never hurt me. Now either we have to go and find somebody who will stand up and let us do this and sign a bunch of forms and stuff or we can do this right here, right now. I’ll be fine.”
“But-”
“No. No ‘buts’ or I’ll just take it out of your grasp and shoot myself at close range, just to prove you wrong.” He took a deep breath. Slowly, she put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine. Now I’m going to go over there and you’re going to shoot me, okay?” There was a pause. “Okay?”
“Can’t you shoot me?”
“I can’t shoot a gun, Fitz.” Another pause.
“Fine,” he said tersely, clenching his teeth. Smiling, Jemma went up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. As she walked back to her spot he thoughtlessly put his free hand where her lips had met his skin. She turned back, and smiled softly at him. A reassurance.
“Alright. Go for it.” He could tell her voice was laced with nerves, though she was keeping it under control. Slowly, he took a deep breath.
And pulled the trigger.
The capsule hit her in the belly and she went limp, collapsing on the pile of pillows and blankets they had prepped. Almost immediately, he dropped the gun and raced over to her, crying her name in immediate panic. He slid into a sitting position next to her and pulled her up into his arms without thinking. “Jemma?” he repeated in a panicked voice, quickly checking the spot where the bullet had struck her. There was no blood, but a significantly red spot that definitely looked like it’d bruise. Quickly, he pressed an ear to her chest and let out a sigh of relief as he heard her heart beating and the slow rise and fall of her breath. Sitting upright again, cradling her in his arms, he checked his watch. Nine minutes.
Eight and a half minutes later, she moaned and turned over in his arms, pressing her cheek to his chest.
“Hey, Jems,” he whispered softly, pulling her a bit more upright and rousing her from her sleepy state.
“Mm-hmm?”
“Time to wake up,” he said softly. Finally pulling herself upright, she rubbed her eyes and looked at him.
“Did it work?”
“Nine and a half minutes.” A grin broke out on her face and energy seemed to return to her with the news.
“Perfect!” she cried, bouncing upright and settling on her knees, eyes filled with excitement. “I can up the actual dosage to a half-hour and then we can patent it! Imagine, Fitz, there needn’t be any more death! People can always be brought in alive! War casualties could go down by the thousands!”
“Mm-hmm,” Fitz replied, running a hand through his curls.
“…Fitz?” Jemma asked, her enthusiasm slowing and tilting her head to the side. “Fitz, what’s wrong?” There was a long pause as her partner sighed.
“Never make me do that again.” Understanding passed over her face and she leaned forward to put a hand on his cheek.
“Fitz, I’m okay. Look at me, Fitz.” He brought his eyes up to hers and she let a small smile edge its way onto her face. “I’m fine, Fitz. Hardly left a mark.”
“Never make me do that again, Jemma,” he repeated, intensity in his words.
“Fine,” she said, bringing her hand down and instead leaning forward to hug him, tucking her head into the space between his neck and his shoulder.
“Promise me.” His arms looped around her, pressing her close to him.
“I promise.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“Good.” He didn’t say anything else, but clung to her so tight she didn’t even think of letting go. Instead, she murmured little comforts to him, reminding him “I’m right here”, and “I’m fine”, and “You didn’t hurt me. I know you’d never hurt me” over and over again. A hand absent-mindedly played with the curls on the nape of his neck and he breathed in the scent of her, the warmth, the comfort and let out a soft “thank you”, barely a whisper as he loosened his arms. She leaned back, arms still around his neck and smiled a little.
“Of course.” Her arms dropped to her sides and they sat there awkwardly for a moment.
“It’s- It’s getting late,” she finally said. “I should be getting home soon.”
“It’s almost midnight,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Do you want to stay over? I can sleep on the couch.”
“…You sure?”
“Of course,” he replied with a smile.
“Thanks,” she said, “but I’ll take the couch.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course,” she said with a grin. He smiled and helped her move the pillows and blankets from the floor to the couch instead, turning on a movie for them to watch while they worked.
And, well, if they fell asleep on the couch together again, letting The Avengers play in the background, then, well, at least this time Jemma was able to slip out unnoticed.
The next week, Leo learned a new way that a Monday could be hell.
“So, for this scene we need it to be deeply emotional. Your reunion is going to be just charged with the stuff. Now, you’ll end the scene in each other’s arms, relieved that they’re safe.” There was a pause as the director thought over what his next words. FitzSimmons exchanged glances, as he did so. It’s okay, Jemma’s smile told him. We’ll be fine.
“Now, we want you to tease, here,” Coulson said casually, not noticing the immediate tension in the actor’s stances as he spoke, or the way their eyes were immediately affixed to him with a mixture of worry and confusion. “The fans of the show have expressed their love for you two being a couple- shipping, I think they’re calling it. Anyways, we want them to go nuts. Get as close as you can without actually doing anything, yeah?”
“O… okay…” Fitz said with furrowed brow. With that, the director turned and walked off to go speak to the cameramen about the shot he wanted. “You ready?” he asked, turning to where his partner was touching up her blood splatters.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked. He nodded, letting the thin strain in her voice pass over without comment.
“Let’s get going, guys!” called Skye as she shifted the camera to face Fitz’s starting point. “Haven’t got all day for your science-y chitter-chatter!” A deep breath sucked its way into Fitz’s lungs.
Here goes nothing.
“Bones!” he roared, running around the corner, breathless from the cross-set sprint he was just finishing. “Bones, where are you?!”
“Booth, I’m-” she was choking, crying a little bit in a mixture of shock and fear as she crawled away from the murderer she had just shot. “Booth, I’m over here!” He was running to her in a second and she crashed into him, hugging and holding and not wanting to let go.
“You’re okay,” he breathed, and she was clinging to him, hands grabbing his upper arms and clinging like he was her lifeline, like she thought he was going to disappear from her arms. They were both breathing heavy from the running and she pulled back to gaze up at him, eyes filled with the beginnings of tears. Her gaze traveled over him and her hands ran up and down his arms.
“You’re okay,” she whispered in return.
They were so close. He could feel her breath on his lips, could see those beautiful eyes staring back at him with love and emotion and- she's just acting, it's just acting, it's not real- and he felt himself lean in a touch closer, their faces almost touching. A hand reached up to caress her face, slowly moving to tangle itself in her hair. He was just about to pull closer when-
"Cut!” Leo fumbled back, quickly pulling his hand from her hair and flushing red as he quickly pulled them both behind his back. "Perfect, guys, we'll cut to the transition shot of the lab from there. That's good for today, great work here," added the director, standing up and walking off set without as much as a glance behind him.
"I-um-good- I mean, yeah, good work today. I have to- um, I have to go, I promised someone I'd do something and other- er, see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah," she said softly, a small smile on her face tinted with- was that disappointment?- no, no, couldn't be- as he awkwardly nodded and walked away.
"But Skye, what do I do?" he cried, turning to walk another oval in front of her couch. "I shouldn't be in love with her! I shouldn't! She's acting but it feels real and I want it to be real and it's wrong because this totally violates the whole co-workers thing and-"
"Woah there, slow down, gun boy. Do you love her, or do you love her character?" There was a pause as Fitz stopped pacing.
"Her."
"So you do not have the hots for her while she's acting?"
"Only when we're- like, well- you know. When she's not completely in character and we're just- er-"
"Being freakishly intimate?"
"Yeah. That thing."
"Then you're fine." Casually, Skye sprawled across the couch, kicking up her legs and resting her head on the armrest. "You're just over-thinking things, Q."
"What? How could you say that? I'm in love with a co-worker that I'm constantly forced into intimate relations with when we aren't even ourselves!"
"Yeah, but you could, you know, just tell her." At Leo's stunned face, she let out a long, exasperated sigh and swung herself upright. "Dude, have you seen the way she looks at you?"
"We're actors!"
"Off-camera!"
"Yeah, like every other human being in the place!" At this, Skye threw up her hands in exasperation and let herself fall backwards on the couch.
"That's it. I'm taking you to a doctor. You're officially blind." Leo just groaned and sat down next to her, planting his face in his hands. "Cheer up. Could be worse. You could have a sex scene in there. One of which I could very easily talk to Raina about..." she added mischievously, leaning over and nudging her friend. He just groaned into his palms and the sneaky grin fell off her face with a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. "Seriously, though. I snuck a look at the filming schedule and you don't have another intimate scene until Friday."
"That's three days away!"
"Still. That's some time, right?"
"Ugh."
The next day passed with relative ease. Everything was action, action, action, but thankfully, there was little to no romantic focus. At most, Leo's character was clearly over-protective of Jemma's. And if Fitz noticed the brush of her hand a little more, the way her touch lingered, then, well, so sue me, he thought.
Everything went smoothly, and he even managed to avoid a prolonged conversation with Jemma afterwards. And then the second day laughed and backhanded him in the face.
“Okay, guys, so remember that scene you did a few days ago, right after Bones shot the serial killer?” asked Coulson, glancing between his leads. Leo flushed and blatantly kept his eyes off of Jemma, nodding in affirmation. “Well, there was an issue with a few cameras, and the recording was lost about half-way through. We’re going to need you to re-do it, alright? Last time was gold, just make sure it’s the same, alright?” There was a long pause. Nobody moved. The director shifted, brow furrowing as he looked them over. “You two okay?”
“Yes- yes, sir. We’re fine,” confirmed Jemma. Fitz tried to glaze his mind over the stammer, but the thoughts ran rampant before he could stop them. What if she doesn’t want to? What if she was creeped out last time? What if she hates me? What if-
“Fitz?”
“Wha- oh, right, yeah, I’m fine. We’re good.”
“Right. We’ll start shooting, Jemma, after you get the blood splatters from make-up, so hurry on over there. Fitz, just go wait at your cue, alright?” With a nod, Fitz walked off, too nervous to even glance at Simmons.
“Bones! Bones, where are you?!” He let panic creep into his voice as he ran, listening for the choking, crying noises from where Jemma was crawling away from the body-prop.
“Booth, I’m-” He was always impressed by the way her voice broke, the way she could make her trauma so realistic- “Booth, I’m over here!” And then they were crashing into each other, hugging and holding and grasping at each other. She was so small in his arms. He never wanted to let her go.
“You’re okay.” His breathy whisper was echoed by soft half-breaths, half-sobs from her, and she was clinging to him, holding his upper arms tight like he was her anchor, like she thought he was going to disappear from her arms. Little puffs of exertion left his lips as she gazed up at him, the beginnings of tears pooling in her eyes. He watched as she ran her gaze up and down his body, hands following the movement, making sure he was safe.
“You’re okay,” she whispered in return.
They were so close. There was a small smile on the edge of her lips as she looked up at him, something that was half-way between you’re okay and I love you. Little puffs of air were leaving her lips and delicately brushing his, and he could see her eyes glimmering with emotion and warmth, and love, and- she's just acting, it's just acting, just acting, it's not real- and he felt himself involuntarily lean closer, the edge of his lip almost brushing hers. He raised a hand to cup her face, running a thumb over her cheekbone as it continued moving to tangle itself in her hair.
In the back of his mind, he heard the director yell, "Cut" but he didn't really pay much notice. Breathing still heavy, he leaned forward and kissed her, soft and lingering against her lips. When he pulled back, all he could take in was the look of shock playing over her features. And then realization came crashing down.
"Oh my god- I'm- Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I just- I- I-" he stuttered, backing away. "I'm sorry, just- I'm sorry." With that he turned and started to walk off set. Stupid, stupid, stu-
"Leopold Fitz!" snapped a voice behind him. Hardly registering the fact that she had somehow known his full name, he stopped and turned to see a very frustrated Jemma Simmons staring him down. "Don't you dare walk away from me." Her voice was almost a whisper now, somehow holding that same sternness, but he could see the tears forming in her eyes.
"Jemma-"
"Has it crossed your mind that your feelings could very well be reciprocated?" There was a pause.
"Oh, you idiot," she sighed, exasperation dripping from every word. And then Jemma strode up to him, pulled him down by the front of his shirt, and pressed her lips firmly against his.
The studio went almost dead quiet, but as he melted into the kiss, Fitz found he didn't care. He was kissing Jemma Simmons and she was responding very positively. His teeth caught her bottom lip and she sighed into his mouth, her hands moving up his chest to loop around his neck. He pressed closer, deepening the kiss and was rewarded by the little satisfied hum she let out. His hand splayed over her back, thumb running back and forth while its twin cupped her hip. It was only when he heard Skye wolf-whistle did he realize that they had an audience. Red as a beet, he pulled back to see her just as flushed as he was, a beautiful smile curling the edges of her lips. Skye let out another long whistle, this time accompanied by clapping, and Jemma buried her face into Leo's shirt in embarrassment.
"I'll get her back later," he murmured to her as the director began to order people to stop gawping and get back to their jobs. Slowly, the hustle and bustle of the set returned and the two finally separated.
"I hope this won't affect your work," commented the director as he passed. Still red, Fitz shook his head and assured him it wouldn't. Then Skye approached.
"I told you so."
"What?" the pair blurted in unison.
"That one there," she said, nudging Fitz, "is completely blind."
“Is he, now?” asked Jemma with a smile and a raised eyebrow, turning towards her partner.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, flushing red and shifting in place. Laughing, Jemma went up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips.
“Dork.”
“Gross!” cried Skye, scrunching up her nose and making a face. “C’mon, lovebirds, wait until you’re home, or maybe in a broom closet somewhere.” Fitz rolled his eyes at her wink, ignoring her and bending forward to kiss Jemma properly.
“Lovebirds,” Skye muttered as she turned and walked away, leaning them entwined and grinning so hard they were having trouble kissing properly.