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“Jemma Simmons!”
“Oh! Hello, Skye. What can I do for you?”
Skye shook her head as she hopped onto the stool next to Jemma’s bench. “I can’t come say hi to my new best friend?”
The smile Skye followed that up with was far too innocent. Jemma narrowed her eyes. There were at least three red flags in the whole exchange. She might not have known Skye for very long, but she knew her well enough to know she was up to something.
“What do you want?”
Skye laughed. “OK, fine. What are you doing this weekend?”
“Oh, Skye. No. Whatever you have planned, please, no. It’s been such a long week, and I still haven’t finished unpack – ”
“You’ve been here a month, Simmons! How long does it take to unpack?!”
Jemma shook her head. “I’m trying to make a home for myself, Skye, not just empty out boxes.”
“And,” Skye responded rather leadingly, “don’t you want to have someone to share that home with?”
Jemma’s eyes widened as she realized what Skye was hinting at. Here she thought the plan would be a movie or karaoke or something. A girls’ night out. But no, she had some kind of scheme. Some kind of dating scheme. All Jemma could imagine was extreme awkwardness and possible public humiliation. Plus, whenever anyone tried to set her up, they always introduced her to these…look, just because Jemma was academically inclined didn’t mean she couldn’t do any better than guys who seemed like they spent their school years eating paste or something. It wasn’t like Skye knew her that well, either. How could she possibly know whether someone was Jemma’s type?
The expression on her face was apparently enough of a response for Skye.
“No, no, no! Hear me out! Have you met anyone in Engineering yet?”
“No, I’ve barely met everyone in Biochem yet. But Skye – ”
“This guy is perfect for you! He even has a little what-do-you-call-it phone booth thing on his desk, just like you!”
Jemma furrowed her brow for a moment, then realized what Skye meant. “A TARDIS?”
“Yes! That thing!”
It wasn’t like being a fan of Doctor Who was that special among nerdy scientists (and was in fact a good sign that he was in the too-nerdy category as she feared), but Jemma supposed it did indicate at least one common interest. She sighed. “What’s his name?”
Skye scoffed. “I’m not telling you that! You’ll go investigate him or something, just to find something wrong with him so you can say no.”
Aha! So there was something wrong with him. “Skye, I really don’t think – ”
“Jemma, one date! You’re new to the area, you haven’t made many friends yet – besides me, of course. What harm could it do? If you don’t like him, then you at least got a nice dinner out of it.”
Jemma sighed loudly. To be honest, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been on a date. And Skye had been truly wonderful, taking Jemma under her wing and helping her feel at home since her transfer to Sci-Ops from the Treehouse. Eventually, she shrugged and nodded.
“All right, yes. Fine. One date.”
Skye raised both fists in victory. “Trust me, you won’t regret it. I have a great feeling about you two.”
**
“Bawk bawk bawk bawk.”
Fitz glared at Trip. “I am not afraid.”
Trip just repeated the noise, adding in arm movements as well.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But I’ll hold you personally responsible for everything that goes wrong.”
“Just as long as you remember to give Skye and me the credit when you’re giving the speech at your wedding.”
“Wait, Skye is involved in this too? Oh, no. No, no, no.”
“Too late, you already agreed.”
**
“This is Bobbi; she’s gonna do your hair.”
Jemma gaped a bit at the Amazon standing next to Skye and then stepped back to let them both into her flat. After closing the door behind them, she turned to face the other women.
“Why do I need someone to do my hair? No offense, Bobbi, but – I can do my own hair.”
“Mmm, yes. I’ve seen your repertoire. Ponytail in the lab, loose outside it,” Skye replied.
“What’s wrong with that?” Jemma asked, offended.
Skye rolled her eyes and turned to Bobbi in an apparent request for support. Bobbi reached out and lightly tugged on a few strands of Jemma’s hair.
“I’m thinking up, with a few tendrils framing your face and dropping lower. I’ve seen F – ”
Skye cleared her throat loudly, and Bobbi snapped her mouth shut. After a moment, she began speaking again, “The gentleman in question has been known to lose several IQ points when presented with a bare neck and shoulders.”
Jemma rolled her eyes. “So he likes seeing a little skin then. You’re right, Skye, he’s nothing like other men.”
Skye snorted. “Guys will be guys, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t play up our strengths. Excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Jemma felt rather worried as Skye disappeared down the hall towards her bedroom.
“Raiding your closet to decide what you should wear!”
Jemma looked down at her clothes. She had swapped out her slacks for a pair of dark, nice but casual jeans and had removed her suit jacket after work, leaving just the light shirt she’d worn underneath it.
“I’m – I thought – you said the reservations weren’t anywhere fancy. I was planning on wearing this…” she replied timidly.
“No,” Bobbi responded immediately. There was a very loud scoff from the bedroom.
“You promised you’d actually put forth a good-faith effort on this date!” Skye reminded her. “And that means – whoa, Simmons! I’m impressed!”
With what, Jemma wondered, feeling even more worried.
“Bobbi, check out this dress!”
Skye came back into the room, holding out a red dress Jemma had bought on impulse shortly after she’d moved to town. It was too low-cut in the neckline and too high-cut at the hem and too clingy everywhere else. But it had looked exceptionally good on her and it was on sale and maybe she kind of hoped that she’d have occasion to wear it someday. On a date with a man of her own choosing…
“Oh, no, Skye, that’s – ”
“Perfect,” Bobbi interjected, nodding once.
“Not that you need all this, of course,” Skye pointed out. “He’s gonna be butt crazy in love with you by the time you’ve finished the appetizers, regardless of what you’re wearing. You two are made for each other.”
“You keep saying that. It sounds less and less credible each time.”
**
“Do I know this girl?” Hunter asked as he took a swig of his beer.
Fitz tried to ignore the other guys’ conversation, preferring to put all his focus on deciding on a tie. Should he even wear a tie? Who wears a tie anymore? God, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been on a date. Did he wear a tie on that one? Bloody hell, why did he agree to this?
“Nah,” Trip said. “She came to Sci-Ops while you were out in the field.”
Movement caught his eye and Fitz watched surreptitiously as Trip held out his phone towards Hunter. Hunter leaned forward to check out what Fitz could only imagine was a photograph of the mystery woman. Hunter gave a low, impressed whistle and glanced at Fitz; Fitz looked away quickly to pretend he wasn’t paying attention.
“Completely out of your league, mate.”
“Oh great,” Fitz muttered, giving up the pretense. “That makes me feel – ”
Mack’s chuckle interrupted them, and they all glanced over at the sound. Mack paused his game and lowered the controller.
“How long’s it been, Turbo? Since you’ve gone on a date?”
Fitz wouldn’t have given an exact number even if he could recall it. He shrugged instead.
“Do people still wear ties on dates?” he asked, suspecting that might have been enough of an answer anyway.
Trip grinned at him. “Go with a jacket, no tie. And people do still wear these, so...”
He tossed something at Fitz, who fumbled to catch it. It took him a moment to process what was in his hand.
“Good Lord, Trip! Did you get me a date or, you know, a date?”
“Better to be prepared,” Trip argued, smirking.
Fitz only continued to gape, and Hunter snorted at his expression before taking one last drink from his bottle and standing up. He nodded his head towards the door in a message to the others. They stood and began to make their way out.
“On that note, we should get going. If it’s been that long, you’ll probably want to…you know, prepare.”
Fitz furrowed his brow, feeling like he was missing something.
“You’ve seen that movie, yeah? Something About Mary or whatever it’s called.”
“Yeah,” Fitz said slowly, and then he remembered. If anything, he got more offended. “Jesus, Hunter, I’m not going to do that. I’m not an animal.”
Hunter walked out the front door, then twisted around to lean on the frame. He shot Fitz a smile. “If she’s half as beautiful as she is in that picture, you’re gonna be sporting a stiffy all night. Tame the beast a bit, and I guarantee you’ll still be able to use that condom if the opportunity…arises.”
Fitz looked over to Trip and Mack, seeking some kind of help. Unfortunately, they had varying degrees of amused agreement on their face.
“You’re horrible people, all three of you,” he declared, shooing them out and shutting the door behind them.
Fitz sighed, shaking his head. He slowly stilled. A moment later, he looked at his watch, then down at his crotch.
“Better safe than sorry,” he told the empty room.
**
Fitz was pretty sure he was going to throw up on the hostess’ desk. Why had he agreed to this? Why? The restaurant employee gave him a wide, fake smile in welcome and Fitz sighed. No backing out now.
“I have a 7:30 reservation. I think it’s actually under Triplett? I know I’m early; I can wait at the bar – ”
“Actually, sir, that table is ready now. And the other member of your party is already here.”
“She…is?”
So much for getting there early.
**
Jemma’s hand shook a little as she reached out for her water glass and took a sip. She had arrived her customary fifteen minutes early – proper preparation was so important – and had simply gotten more and more nervous with each passing second that she waited for her date to arrive. She just hoped that the evening wasn’t a complete – she heard footsteps approaching and twisted in her chair.
She couldn’t see him behind the hostess at first, thanks to needing to look up at just the wrong angle. And then she did see him and blinked in – well, not surprise, exactly. Relief, perhaps. Maybe a healthy dose of attraction, if she were being completely honest.
The hostess gestured and her date stepped around the woman with a nod of thanks. As he moved closer to the table, Jemma stood up to greet him. She couldn’t help but notice the incredibly unsubtle way his eyes traveled over her dress, and she hoped she was meeting or even exceeding his own expectations.
“Hello,” Jemma began, holding her hand out to shake his.
He closed the distance between them and took her hand in his own. “Hi. Sorry, am I late? It was 7:30, wasn’t it?”
“Oh!” Jemma waved her free hand dismissively, even as she registered his accent in surprise. “I just – I prefer to get to places early, that’s all. You’re not late.”
“Good,” he said with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”
Jemma smiled at the implicit compliment, then realized their hands were still clasped. She blushed and pulled it away, reaching up instead to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You know, this is going to sound strange, but – Skye never actually told me your name. She said – ”
“Probably the same thing Trip said to me when I asked. I’m Fitz.”
“Jemma.”
They smiled at each other for one more beat, and then Fitz shook his head slightly, as if he were trying to snap himself out of a daze. But that seemed rather vain. He was probably just feeling nervous or something. The way he hesitantly gestured towards the table was adorable though. Jemma turned back towards it, starting to sit down again. She had a little jolt of surprise when he suddenly stepped right behind her and helped push her chair back in. It was rather old-fashioned and gentlemanly and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, felt like maybe – as an independent, feminist woman – she really shouldn’t but…she caught a trace of his aftershave and felt the brush of his shirt against her bare shoulder and all she could think was how grateful she was that Skye and Bobbi forced her to wear this dress.
He sat down across from her, leaning forward eagerly and…there was something about him…something about the way the light from the candle danced across his face, something about the awkward friendliness and boyish charm and… Jemma’s eyes widened.
“Fitz,” she asked, feeling breathless, “that’s not your first name, is it?”
He grimaced, then shook his head. “No, ah, no. It’s Leo. No one calls me that, though.”
“Leo Fitz!” she practically shouted. He sat upright in his chair, startled and confused. Before he could speak, though, she added, “It’s me, Jemma Simmons.”
There was a long pause, and then recognition dawned. “From Camp – ”
“Camp Hammond!”
**
Jemma waved cheerfully the entire time her parents’ car drove out of sight. And then the smile fell off her face. She turned towards the camp entrance, about to puke from nerves, and hoisted her duffle bag higher on her shoulder. It wasn’t the camp, per se; Jemma was super excited about the prospect of doing science nonstop for weeks. It wasn’t being away from home by herself for so long, either; she had always wanted to go on more adventures that never seemed quite possible between school and her parents’ work. It was, well, it was the fact that she probably wouldn’t make any friends. She was used to that, certainly. She had just finished her first college degree at 12 years old, after all. Her parents had actually objected to the idea of the camp, at first, thinking it was a waste of her time. Really, it was. A science camp for gifted adolescents… She’d probably be able to do most of the experiments in her sleep. But she wanted, just once, to do something fun with kids her age, and they’d finally agreed.
It wasn’t until the night before that Jemma admitted to herself that kids her age probably wouldn’t like her any better than the 20-somethings she’d just graduated with.
She sighed, straightened her shoulders in determination, and walked under the arch welcoming her to Camp Hammond.
**
The next morning, after the interminable ice-breaking activities and much more enjoyable campfire the night before, marked the first day of their activities. Jemma walked eagerly into Cabin Curie for her chemistry block. She looked around, smiling, trying to seem as friendly as possible. All the girls in her bunk were experienced campers back for another year and had their own little clique already, but surely there were other girls from other cabins who’d want to – or even boys, really. She’d worked with boys in her classes many times. They tended to tease her a lot, act a little big brotherly, but it was fine. She certainly hadn’t started to wonder about what it would be like to meet a boy here her own age, someone who liked science and didn’t see her as an annoying little kid but as a…well, as a…girl. Jemma had read all the current research on puberty and sexuality when she noticed the tenderness where her breasts had recently started to grow, and then she read all the current sociological and anthropological research on intimate relationships, so she knew all about those kinds of things now.
She’d quite like to kiss someone, actually.
She blushed and nearly dropped her notebook at the mere thought. Goodness, no. She couldn’t imagine how embarrassing it would be to partner up with a boy. Better to find –
There were no empty seats at any of the lab benches except one. And the boy sitting there, turned away from the rest of the class and – for lack of a better term – pouting, did not seem particularly welcoming. Jemma groaned inwardly and made her way to the bench.
“Hello!” she greeted him, maybe a little too cheerily.
All she got in response was a grunt. Her smile faltered and then she redoubled her efforts.
“I’m Jemma Simmons!”
He turned to her then and for a split second she saw a rather annoyed expression on his face. Then it turned almost – stunned, maybe, and he nearly fell off his chair.
“Hi. Hi, I’m Fitz,” he said. “Just Fitz, please.”
“May I sit here, Fitz?”
“Yeah, um. Yeah. Go ahead.”
Jemma placed her notebook on the bench and climbed onto the stool. She took a deep breath, thinking desperately for something else to say to the boy who was now looking at her intently.
“Hey, Leopold, who’s your girlfriend?” a boy on the other side of the room called out.
Jemma’s brow furrowed as she realized the comment was directed at her bench mate. He turned away from her, ducking his head in furious embarrassment.
“Don’t mind them,” he said through gritted teeth. “The boys in my cabin are all idiots. I can’t believe I have to spend four weeks living with them.”
“You didn’t want to come to camp?”
He glanced at her, seeming hesitant. “No,” he replied, his tone sounding confessional. “I’m just here because my parents are ‘having problems’ and they didn’t want me around this summer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, then shook his head quickly. “Where are you from?”
Jemma smiled, graciously allowing him to change the subject. She had just started to tell him all about Sheffield when the counselor walked in.
“Everybody ready for some chemistry?!”
“Leopold’s got some chemistry brewing already!” the same boy from earlier shouted.
Fitz looked straight ahead with a loud sigh. Jemma fought her own embarrassment and a sharp bolt of anger. Fitz was the first person there who’d been nice to her, and she hated that he was being teased so much because of her. She whirled on the other boy.
“I guess gifted doesn’t mean mature!”
It maybe wasn’t the best insult in the world but Fitz beamed a smile at her. Jemma felt something flutter inside her chest, and she felt a little curious about that whole kissing thing again. But thankfully, before she could do or say anything truly embarrassing, the counselor hushed them and began to describe the lab. It was quite remedial actually, something Jemma remembered doing almost four years ago. But! She knew this camp wouldn’t be very challenging intellectually, so she’d just grin and bear it.
“Good grief,” Fitz muttered under his breath as the counselor wrapped up the presentation and directed them to start.
“It’s not that difficult,” Jemma reassured him. “It’s just – ”
“It’s child play. Even Davies can manage it,” he grumbled, nodding in his tormentor’s direction. “And he’s barely made it to year 10.”
“What year are you in?”
He glanced at her quickly, and the blush seemed to return. “Um. Ah. I’m at university. Engineering.”
“Really?!”
He grimaced. “Well, you don’t have to sound surprised. I know I’m young but – I mean, I told you I didn’t even want to be here and – ”
“No, I mean…I am too. Just finished, actually. I’m starting my Ph.D. in the fall. Biochem.”
Fitz gaped. “I’m starting my Ph.D. too,” he breathed out. Then his brow furrowed. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted…an adventure,” Jemma explained with a smile.
“And Camp Hammond is an adventure?” he asked skeptically.
“I’m beginning to think it might be,” she confirmed, the fluttering inside her returning as her eyes dropped involuntarily to his mouth.
A cute boy, who liked science and who might actually understand her. He seemed a little shy, so it might take some planning. Thankfully, Jemma excelled at preparation.
**
“I really don’t see why we have to do this.”
“Oh, Fitz!”
“No, really. What does this have to do with science?”
“It’s a summer camp, Fitz! We do have to do some typical summer camp activities!”
Fitz shook his head argumentatively, even as he trudged down the pier next to her. “I don’t agree with that logic.”
“You agreed with it just fine last night, when you ate four hot dogs at the campfire.”
Fitz stopped and sighed. He looked at Jemma with a sheepish expression. “I’m just not a very good swimmer,” he confessed.
Jemma smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand in support. “I’ll be right next to you. I won’t let you drown.”
“Yeah?”
Jemma smiled even wider. She had started to get used to that puppy dog look in his eyes, and she was beginning to think that, if she threw caution to the wind and just improvised, any attempt to kiss him wouldn’t fail. But she just couldn’t work up the courage. It was actually, somehow, getting worse the closer they became. She didn’t want to ruin the first real friendship she’d ever had.
“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “And besides, I’ll need you to stay close to me. I’ve put a lot of sunscreen on, but I burn really easily. If you see me start to freckle, warn me!”
He nodded rapidly, apparently eager to be of assistance. Jemma wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that the assistance would involve keeping a close eye on her skin. She decided to test the hypothesis and dropped his hand to remove her t-shirt. She arched her back as she did so, trying to push out the small bumps of her chest. Her one-piece suit was functional and quite plain, unfortunately. Some of the other girls, the older ones especially, were wearing frilly bikinis and their chests were not quite so small. Jemma’s only consolation was that Fitz hadn’t even seemed to notice them.
She risked a glance at him as she threw her towel and t-shirt onto the pier. He was staring – very obviously – at her body. So obviously, in fact, that she actually felt a little self-conscious, afraid her experiment was about to backfire on her.
“Fitz?”
His head darted up and his eyes widened. The puppy dog look was gone, replaced with a mix of fear and something else she hadn’t seen before. Jemma lifted a nervous hand to tug at the end of her ponytail.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Fitz shook his head quickly, twin red circles forming on his cheeks, distinct against his otherwise pale face. And then he looked down in alarm. Jemma was about to follow his eye line to see what the problem was when he abruptly jumped into the lake.
Moments later, he surfaced. “Cold! So cold! Oh my God!” he shouted, splashing about in a way that would exhaust him very quickly and was barely keeping his head above water.
Jemma rolled her eyes, confused by his antics, then moved to enter the lake in a more controlled fashion. She should get over to him before he really did drown.
**
Jemma held the trophy out in front of herself to admire it.
“I mean, is it a surprise to anyone?” Fitz asked, swinging his arms widely, his own trophy becoming a bit of a menace.
The camp had even hired an engraver to put their names on it. Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. Their first names were etched smaller and above their surnames, which were large and a little too close together. FitzSimmons, it seemed to read. Jemma’s heart felt a little strange at how right their names looked together like that.
“Really, they shouldn’t have let us partner up. Wasn’t fair to the others,” Fitz continued to gloat.
Jemma looked over at him, smiling indulgently. And then, she reminded herself it was the last day of camp, they had just won the end-of-camp science fair, and it was time to start putting her plan into action. Hints now. The big moment later, by the campfire. Carefully, she reached down to grab his hand.
He seemed surprised but didn’t let go. In fact, he tightened their grip, sending her a bashful smile.
“Fitz,” she said slowly, “I – that is, I hope you’ll write to me. I know we’ll both be busy, starting our new degree programs, but…you’re my best friend in the whole world.”
He stopped walking, and it took Jemma a moment to realize they were standing in front of her cabin. He turned to face her and nodded in agreement.
“You’re mine too,” he confirmed, before ducking his head. “More than that, actually.”
Jemma felt her breath getting shallower. Maybe he’d beat her to it. Maybe he’d kiss her now. She squeezed his hand in encouragement and started to lean closer, letting her eyes close.
“I mean…um, my only friend, really.”
She stopped moving and tried not to sigh in disappointment. He was too shy for his own good.
**
Jemma looked around her bedroom, taking in the sight. She wouldn’t be back for a while, at least not until Christmas. It had taken some convincing, but her parents finally agreed she could be allowed to stay in graduate student housing while she worked on her Ph.D. It only made sense; she couldn’t spend so much time commuting when she might need to be in the lab at all hours of the night and weekend. They’d had to sign about a dozen legal forms before the university would approve it, but it was worth it in the end.
She took a deep breath, realizing the summer was finally over. It had been about eight weeks since camp ended – and eight weeks since she’d heard from Fitz. She’d sent him several postcards and one long letter. He never responded. Today was it, she decided. If she didn’t receive anything from him in the post today, then –
“Jemma,” her mother called out with a knock to her door. “You’ve got a card.”
She hurried over to the door, pulling it open in breathless excitement. Her mother smiled at her and handed her the envelope.
“Come down soon. We’ll have to leave right after lunch to get you all moved in before dark.”
Jemma nodded, willing her mother to leave so she could read the card. Finally, she did, and Jemma lifted the envelope, too focused on opening it to even read the return address. Hands shaking, it took her some time to finally tear it open.
It was a good luck card from her grandmother.
Jemma felt tears spring to her eyes. She looked around the room, angry with him and upset with herself for ruining everything. Her eyes landed on the stupid trophy. Three large steps took her over to the desk. She grabbed the trophy and threw it in the bin.
**
“I…I wrote to you, and you never wrote back,” Jemma said, surprised at how it still hurt just a little. She hadn’t thought about Fitz in a long time, but seeing him again brought it all back – that first friendship, closer than she’d ever known possible, and the first boy she’d ever…
He ducked his head, staring at his hands as he wrung them awkwardly on the table. “I know. I know, I’m sorry, I – ” He cleared his throat. “My parents split that summer. I knew it was coming but – but it was still hard. I had never made life easy on them either, always…blowing stuff up in the garage and…”
Jemma reached out, almost unconsciously, and placed her hand on top of one of his. He was silent for a long beat, staring down at where they made contact. Then, he turned his hand over, interlacing their fingers.
“My dad made things very difficult for all of us,” he continued, slower and calmer. “My mum had decided to move with me, and he wouldn’t sign off on the custody agreement so she could go out of the country with me. I thought I wouldn’t be able to – and she was worried about money and it was all just… By the time things were settled, I…well, it had been so long and I figured you hated me. I’m sorry; I was a stupid kid; I should have – ”
“Fitz,” Jemma reassured him. “It’s OK; it was so long ago now. I admit, I wasn’t happy about it. I thought it was something to do with me and that hurt my feelings.”
He looked up at her, stricken, opening his mouth to apologize again. She smiled, squeezing his hand to silence him.
“I’m happy to hear it wasn’t that, but I’m sad about what you went through. How are things with your parents now?”
Fitz shrugged. “My mum’s back in Scotland; I see her as often as I can. My dad…we don’t talk much.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head quickly, then inhaled. Fixing his gaze on her, he smiled. “How are you? Tell me everything that’s happened. You’re with S.H.I.E.L.D.!”
Jemma laughed. “I am,” she confirmed, before launching into her own story.
The dinner passed quickly, both of them only half-paying attention to their food as they talked like old friends, rapidly spanning an array of topics. Old friends who had grown into quite attractive people. Old friends who had held hands as long as possible, and when the food came and they had to let go, separated reluctantly but replaced that contact with gentle pressure of their feet against each other under the table. Old friends who couldn’t stop staring and smiling at each other.
**
“This is me,” Jemma announced, a little breathlessly.
She turned to face Fitz, who had been very gentlemanly about seeing her home, even though it was well out of his way. Jemma hadn’t objected too much, though, because she wanted to prolong the night as much as possible. Walking to her flat had been strangely reminiscent of the last day at camp – the memory had resurfaced vividly – when he’d walked her to her cabin after the science fair, and yet different in important ways too. They didn’t hold hands this time; instead the backs of their fingers brushed against each other every so often as they walked much slower and closer than absolutely necessary. And Jemma was pretty sure that this time, she wasn’t the only one planning ahead to a kiss. She did wonder, though, if, like her, he was planning ahead to more than that – either in terms of that night or an even longer future.
“It’s nice,” he observed.
Jemma shook her head quickly to bring herself back to the present. She was confused for a moment until she realized he was talking about her building. She forced a little smile past her nerves and tilted her head in the direction of the door.
“Want to come inside for a little while?”
He nodded immediately. Jemma smiled, turned away so he wouldn’t see her blush, and led him to the front door. His body was warm and close behind her as she unlocked it. Leading him across the threshold, she turned to look over her shoulder.
“Something to drink? Wine?”
“Sure.”
She nodded at the door, indicating he should close it, then she made her way to the kitchen.
“Have a seat,” she called out. “I’ll be right there.”
“Still unpacking, huh?” was his only response.
She smiled, aware of the numerous half-empty boxes still strewn around the living room. Then she blushed as she remembered Skye’s question. No, Jemma hadn’t really considered the possibility of sharing her home with someone. Until now.
Jemma shook her head at herself at the thought, stepping away from the counter to open her freezer door and try to cool the blush off her face. She didn’t want to move too fast.
Years after they’d first met, however, seemed intolerably slow.
Grabbing the wine glasses off her counter, she hurried back into the living room. Fitz turned to her eagerly, sitting up a little straighter, even half-standing as he reached for the glass she offered him. He sat down again, scooching a bit to the side to make room for her, resting one arm along the back of the couch as he turned to face her more fully.
She sat down, perhaps too close if she were being honest. His eyes dropped lower, taking in the sight of her practically on his lap and then darted back up again. He cleared his throat, smiled, then moved to clink his glass against the one she held out.
“I still can’t get over it,” she announced. “Leo Fitz.”
“Jemma Simmons,” he countered, grinning.
There was a charged silence then, their smiles fading as they continued to look at each other. Fitz’ tongue darted out to lick at his lips, and Jemma decided to take a chance.
“Do you – do you ever think about – do you remember that last night at camp?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out, holding her gaze. Then he ducked his head briefly before looking back up at her. “Yeah, probably have thought about it far too many times, really. It’s a…very fond memory.”
**
Fitz felt sick to his stomach.
He tried telling himself it was because he’d eaten 12 s’mores (a personal record). Or because he’d swallowed some lake water while swimming earlier in the day – who knew what his campmates did in there to contaminate it? Or even because he’d have to go home tomorrow and listen to his parents fighting again.
None of that was the truth. The truth was he was devastated about leaving Jemma and probably not seeing her again for a very long time, maybe ever. They’d already agreed to write, but it wasn’t the same. She was his first real friend, and he’d be heading off to do his Ph.D. all by himself after spending virtually every waking moment by her side for the last four weeks.
It had felt like a lifetime, in a way. Mostly because he had never truly felt alive until he met her.
Perhaps that was a little too world-weary for a person his age to say, but it still felt true. Jemma was amazing; she was the smartest person he’d ever met. She was kind – to him, at least, if not to the idiots who still teased him far too often – and she was funny and, yes, possibly even more socially awkward than Fitz himself was, prone to forgetting important things – like lunch – when wrapped up in an experiment, and perhaps a little ruthless in her quest for knowledge. They complemented each other so well, though, with Fitz reining her in, making sure she thought through how things might sound to other people before she said them, and Jemma helping him control his temper with the older boys and stay grounded in the reality of the scientific process when he started to daydream too much.
He didn’t know what he’d do without her, and he didn’t know how he’d managed to make it so long without knowing her. And, he had realized about a week ago, he’d fallen in love with her. Again, maybe a bold statement for an adolescent to make, but he had never been more certain of anything.
But what to do about it? Should he actually do anything and risk their friendship, or just suffer in silence while knowing he’d always have her in his life? He had run out of time to decide. Camp was almost over, and he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her goodbye.
They were sitting close together now, a little away from the rest of the group like usual. Light from the fire was flickering across her face, and he imagined it was doing the same to him. He wondered if it appeared as hypnotizing, if his eyes sparkled like hers did, if she too wanted to lean closer to see the parts of him hidden in shadow.
“Fitz.”
He nearly jumped at the sound of his name, wondering if he had been distracted too much and missed something she’d said. But she didn’t seem annoyed with him so he suspected not. Instead, she seemed nervous. She was biting her lip and not quite meeting his eyes, and Fitz started to feel very panicky.
“Jemma, is everything OK?”
“Yes.” And then she repeated, firmer, “Yes. Fitz…”
“Jemma, what is it?”
She exhaled sharply. “Oh, just – ”
She leaned forward quickly, practically toppling into him when she lost her balance on the log they were sitting on. She caught herself with one hand to his chest and…and…and her lips pressed to his. Fitz made a squeaking sort of noise and felt frustratingly, terrifyingly paralyzed for a long beat, and then he moved one hand to her elbow. Holding her in place, he pushed back hard against her lips with his own – maybe too hard considering the way it felt like their mouths were being jammed together and pinched between their teeth.
Far too soon, Jemma pulled away from him. Fitz stared at her, eyes wide, breathing fast, and feeling very much –
“Was that OK?”
Fitz nodded rapidly, surprised she even felt the need to ask. He had never experienced anything quite so – oh God, what if she asked because it hadn’t been OK for her?
“Yeah,” he answered. “Are – was it – OK for you?”
Jemma smiled. “Yes,” she replied, nearly causing Fitz to collapse in on himself in relief. Her follow-up was too invigorating though. “But I think it would be even better if we tried again. At least as many times as needed to support my hypothesis.”
“What’s your hypothesis?” he asked weakly.
She scooted a little closer, wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. Their mouths connected, and Fitz breathed out shakily against her lips. Jemma backed away just barely.
“That you’d be an even better boyfriend than best friend.”
Fitz’ heart soared and the only answer he gave her was by kissing her again.
He never managed to put into words exactly how he felt, exactly what he hoped for. He felt like they had a bit of a psychic link though, so he knew she’d understand. It wasn’t long after that, though, that the counselors sent everyone back to their cabins. The next morning, her parents were there bright and early and all Fitz could do was wave goodbye, not brave enough to kiss her again in front of them.
Just about every positive thought slid out of his mind, though, when his mom came to pick him up but only managed to drive a few kilometers before pulling over again and breaking into tears.
**
“Do you ever wonder if maybe you embellished it?” At his eyebrow raise, Jemma explained, “Perhaps we should see how well the memory holds up?”
And then he clearly understood what she was hinting at. He blinked and swallowed and stared at her lips, but otherwise he seemed frozen. It appeared she’d have to take the initiative this time as well, just as she had so many years ago. But as she started to lean in, he moved to meet her halfway. Their lips pressed together softly, rather chastely but with a hint of a promise. He had learned sometime over the years not to jam his mouth quite so hard against the poor defenseless woman opposite him. She wondered how many other first kisses he’d had, and how this one would compare. For her own part, it was definitely shooting to the top of her list.
He pulled back slowly. Jemma kept her eyes closed, smiling, and it took her a moment to realize that she’d brought her free hand up and was pressing her fingers against his jaw. His breath steamed against her lips when he sighed.
Jemma blinked her eyes open, sat back just a bit more, and looked up at Fitz intently. He was staring back at her, the look in his eyes as equally pleased as it was apprehensive. Jemma’s smile grew wider.
She reached out then, taking Fitz’ wine glass out of his rather lax grip and placing it along with her own on the coffee table. When she faced him again, he was beginning to grin.
“Let’s try that as grown-ups, shall we?”
He nodded enthusiastically but the movement was cut short as Jemma leaned into him, resting her hands on his chest as she closed the distance between them. Fitz brought his hands up, wrapping his arms around her. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth, and Jemma moaned, allowing it in.
The kiss heated up fast – Jemma slid her hands up from his chest to wrap around his neck, while Fitz pulled her even closer and began to test his luck with where he let his hands go wandering. Jemma smiled against his lips, not planning on stopping him anytime soon. In fact, she might just give him better access.
She shifted around as best she could without actually ending the kiss. Awkwardly twisting and lifting up and tugging at the skirt of her dress, she finally managed to – yes, just like that. It was then that Fitz broke away in surprise. He looked down, apparently almost confused about how she’d ended up straddling his lap with his hands resting half on the bunched up fabric and half on the revealed skin of her thighs.
“Is this too fast?” Jemma asked, a touch of worry lacing her tone at his lack of movement.
“Um…no. No, this – is it?”
“I never do this, really.”
“No! No, me neither.”
“I know it’s only our first date.”
“Yeah.”
He looked so dejected that Jemma both wanted to laugh and felt completely certain when she added, “But it’s really kind of a very delayed second one.”
“Good point!” Fitz declared, looking up at her with a relieved expression. “You’re so smart.”
Jemma laughed, ducking her head for a moment. She sat back up again and drew a hand down Fitz’ neck to his chest. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, the mood becoming intimate and less hurried.
“I really like you, Fitz. As much now as I did back then. I want to keep seeing you. If – if – ”
“I want to keep seeing you too,” Fitz rushed to assure her, placing a palm to her cheek to hold her still as he looked in her eyes. “No matter what does or doesn’t happen here tonight.”
“Oh, good. That’s settled then.”
The mood shifted again immediately as Jemma pulled him closer by his lapels and began kissing him again. Fitz groaned, sliding his hands up under her skirt and around to her bum. He moved his head downwards, running his lips and tongue over her neck and shoulder and clavicle and ultimately to her cleavage.
“You did not have these 15 years ago,” he mumbled.
Jemma threw her head back and laughed. Once she’d calmed, she smiled down at the top of his head.
“You know, Fitz,” she teased. “I went to all the trouble of sprucing up for this date and you never complimented my dress.”
His head popped up, and he gave her an alarmed, apologetic look. “Didn’t I? I guess I didn’t want to seem – it’s stunning. You look – ”
“You really like it?”
He nodded. “I do.”
Jemma fixed him with as serious a look as she could manage under the circumstances. “It unzips in the back.”
Fitz was nothing if not a genius and his hands were fumbling with the pull within seconds. The bodice fell open and down, prompting Fitz to stare at her and lift his hands to her breasts. Jemma didn’t let him stay there for long, though, and regretfully gave up her place on his lap. He seemed disappointed too until he watched her stretch out on the couch and rather gracelessly flop around while pulling off the dress. Once it was gone, she gave him a come hither kind of smile and he slunk between her legs, settling on top of her and sliding one hand under her thigh. He pulled it up, encouraging her to wrap it around him. Jemma tilted up to meet him, seeking out the best angle for friction, even as he leaned to kiss the side of her neck.
Leaned too far as it turned out, especially combined with her own force. They both let out sounds of alarm, fumbling for something to hold onto. And then Fitz landed on his back on the floor in the narrow space between the couch and coffee table and Jemma landed on top of him and they were both laughing hysterically.
“Maybe that’s a sign to head to the bedroom?” Jemma finally observed, once she could speak.
“Something wrong with right here?”
She looked down at him, intrigued by the twinkle in his eye and contemplating just how many rooms in her new flat needed to be christened still. But she needed to be responsible.
“No, it’s just – I have…you know. In there is where I unpacked…” Oh good Lord, she wasn’t a child. “Protection.”
“Oh!” Fitz shook his head. “It’s OK. I have a condom.”
Jemma raised her eyebrows about as high as they could go and propped herself up more.
“Expecting tonight to go well, were you?”
Fitz’ eyes grew as wide as saucers and he shook his head frantically. “No, it’s just – no, I – my friend – oh God, I really – wait. You just said you have – ”
Jemma laughed, letting him off the hook. “Yes, well, I excel at preparation.”
**
“Well?!”
Jemma feigned confusion as she tossed her empty take-away tea cup into the bin. “Well, what, Skye?”
Skye rolled her eyes. “How was the date? Obviously.”
“Oh, fine. Turns out we already knew each other.”
“Really?!”
“Mm,” Jemma confirmed, staring straight ahead as she led Skye away from the break room and towards the lab. “We went to the same science camp as kids.”
“Nerds.”
Jemma smiled just as they reached the door. She faced Skye and absent-mindedly reached up to pull her hair into its customary ponytail. “He was my first kiss, actually,” she said, deciding to give Skye one little tidbit of information in return for all the things Skye had given her.
Skye snorted. “Most recent one too, from the looks of things.”
Jemma tilted her head in confusion.
“You’ve got a hickey, just there,” Skye informed her, pointing.
Jemma slapped her hand to her neck, feeling a furious blush spread. She was going to punish Fitz severely.
That thought made her blush even more.
Honestly, what was wrong with her?!
Jemma sighed, shaking her head as she accepted that literally everything was going to sound like innuendo to her for a while. And as embarrassed as she wanted to feel about that, as annoyed with Skye as she wanted to be about the teasing, she found that she couldn’t really feel anything but extreme happiness.
“I have more than one, Skye,” she insinuated, before turning away and walking into the lab.
“Jemma Simmons!”
**
Trip took one look at Fitz and just seemed to know. Fitz tried not to be too mortified about that.
“Just remember,” Trip said with a wink. “I get the credit in the wedding speech.”
“Trip,” Fitz replied, feeling very magnanimous. “You can be best man.”