“It’s not what it looks like,” he says innocently. Far too innocently.
“My car does not need an ejector seat, Q,” Jemma replies. Technically, his name doesn’t even have a Q, but that’s what the head of the tech division is always called. There’s been many Q’s before him, just like there’s been many 007′s before her. However, there haven’t been many that were as good as they are. “It’s terribly retro, don’t you think?”
“It’s a classic!” Fitz protests. “I’ve got the knock-out lipstick ready as well, plus the knives in the boots. We’re going old-school for this one. But I’ve embedded a GPS tracker and communicator in your necklace, just in case.” He frowns slightly and as Jemma realizes that he’s worried about her, she feels a massive surge of affection for Fitz sweep through her. They’ve been a team ever since they first met in MI6 training and she’s never considered what it must be like to be the one watching rather than the one doing.
“I’ll be careful, Fitz. Promise,” she says and gives him her real smile, sliding her hand over until it just covers the top of his.
“There’s avalanches in Switzerland, Jemma, and poison’s quite easy to hide in fondue and what if what’s-his-name isn’t as quite as easy to seduce as you thought?” he blurts out.
“Well,” Jemma murmurs as she steps closer to him. “I was actually thinking that maybe I could practice on you.”