Fitzsimmons

Part Three

Quick Note: Sorry this took so long! I'm definitely not much of a historical fiction writer.

I'm so excited for the premiere tomorrow!!! I'm hoping nobody's getting separated from the team this episode. That's my only wish.

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Jemma awoke to the squeals of children, and sluggishly dragged herself out of bed, slipping on wool socks before standing up. Needless to say, she forgot about Leo being present in the house as well, and she only just realized she was still in her nightgown when she happened upon him already in the kitchen making breakfast. As she scurried back upstairs to his embarrassed blush, she briefly considered feeling sorry he was doing all the cooking.

"I was never that good at cooking anyways," Jemma murmured as she passed Beth and Emily's room. Beth stood in the doorway, her hair tangled from sleep and nightgown tugged to her knees from the heat.

Jemma continued quickly past, hoping the little girl wouldn't ask for anything before she could get dressed properly. When Jemma reached her room, she pulled on a plain brown work dress and pinned her hair back into a tidy bun. She placed the newsies cap formerly laying on her night table onto the head of the marble bust, just to add character to the blank room, then took a deep breath and skipped down to the kitchen.

Lily and John were sitting at the table, both already dressed in summer clothes, and eating the eggs Leo had cooked. When Jemma reached the table, Leo offered her the bowl, and she scooped some onto a plate with a thankful smile, barely avoiding blushing from their earlier interaction.

Before Jemma could say anything, John asked, "What are we doing today?" then shoveled more eggs into his mouth.

Jemma glanced at Leo for ideas, then returned with nothing. Brushing a strand of hair out of her eye, she suggested, "We could go outside. I think this house has a garden."

"There's a creek about a mile down the road," Leo added, then finished his eggs.

"Sounds like an excellent idea," Lily commented. Lily, always the gentlewoman, was wearing a lilac spotted dress with her hair in perfect braids. She was usually reserved and quiet, choosing a cup of tea and a book over dances.

"Yeah, and I can run the trails there," added John through a mouthful. John was the total opposite of Lily. He was his boarding school's star athlete, and the least favorite of all his teachers. Jemma was uncertain exactly how his parents were still letting him be involved in athletics, when his grades were suffering so much.

Mentally shrugging, Jemma announced to the house that they would al be walking down to the creek, and bid them to get their play clothes on for the day. All gathered at the table scattered in preparation.

"I can pack us a picnic," Leo offered, already pulling out a wicker basket from the pantry.

"I feel bad I haven't done any cooking. I can at least pack a lunch."

"No. Women are already so pressed to be the ones that do housework. I disagree with that intensely. I'll be doing all of the cooking and cleaning and child-watching."

"Really?"

"Not entirely. You're doing the cleaning. I hate cleaning."

An hour later all of the kids were assembled for their trip to the creek. Jemma carried the basket of sandwiches, and Leo carried Beth on his shoulders. When the group reached the destination a mile away, Emily was complaining about her feet hurting abc half of the children wanted to go home already.

"Listen," Jemma began breathlessly with a stern tone. "We walked all the way here, and you're going to enjoy it!"

To a chorus of groans, Henry and Beth splashed into the water and started catching tadpoles together. Ron and William eventually climbed trees near the creek, and Lily settled in an isolated tree with some book. John started with his run, and the rest of the children sat giggling in the grass a few yards away from Leo and Jemma.

"So, I hear they've begun drafting men," Leo said seriously, glancing towards Beth and Henry. Jemma took a deep breath and settled herself, then replied.

"I certainly hope none of the family will be pulled up." Jemma sighed subtly. "Do you have a family, Leo?"

"Everyone has a family," Leo remarked, then readjusted himself on the grass. "Mine just isn't blood related to me." Jemma watched him until he elaborated. "Your brother has sort of adopted me into the family. I was supposed to go to your last Christmas feast, but alas, my birth mother was ill."

"Is she okay today?" Jemma inquired cautiously.

"Yeah. She rests in Heaven now."

"I apologize."

"There's no need. She died in her sleep."

A silence passed between them.

"Do you have a father?" Leo nodded.

"He fought in the First World War. Came back very different."

Jemma decided to leave it at that. Leo seemed as though he didn't want to be pitied.

"How did you get a job at the print shop?" Jemma asked to break the silence.

"I was in London, looking for work, and your brother was kind enough to give me some. That's about it."

Jemma nodded. "I had a job there once a few summers ago. I was staying with George's family, being a bother to all of them, I suppose, so he brought me to the shop with him one day. I couldn't hardly stand it, all the ink and the noise."

"I find it quite soothing, actually," Leo commented with a laugh.

"You're surely a mad man," Jemma replied, a smile also breaking over her face.

Just as she finished, Emily marched up to where they sat wearing a crown woven from various field flowers. "I hurt my knee," she whined with a pouty lip, then pointed to the scrape.

Jemma looked through the picnic basket momentarily. "I'm sorry, Emily, but we don't have any bandages here. You'll have to walk it off." Emily's lip began quivering now.

"Hey Emily," Leo said as soon as Emily had turned away. "Let me see the scrape." Emily scrunched up her nose in confusion, but returned to where Leo sat in the grass and showed her knee.

"Oh, it looks very bad, doesn't it?" Leo said with mock worry.

"What is it?" Emily asked, concerned.

"Well, that cut here may leave a scar. Not only a scar, but a witch mark." Emily's eyes widened in fear. "Emily, I'm really sorry, but, you might become a witch."

"I can't!" Emily protested, then jerked her leg away.

"Well, the only way to prevent a witch mark from occurring is to not pay too much attention to the cut, you see. Do you think you can do that for me?" Emily nodded earnestly, then ran back to join her cousins.

Jemma watched the girl until she was far away. "Did you get that from the print shop as well?" she asked, amused.

"Nope. I made that one up," Leo replied with a grin.

After lunch and before all of the children began to fall asleep, Jemma and Leo hurried everyone home. Lily stumbled a few times on the way, for she was too concerned with her book to be bothered with watching her step. By the time they had all reached home, Jemma had to bandage both of the girls' scrapes as Leo started cooking a soup.

The group decided to eat outside, on the stone patio, since it was a beautiful and breezy day, and the kids were all too tired for chattering. There was no trouble putting all of the children to bed this night, and Jemma and Leo were too tired themselves to hear the radio call announcing the fast-approaching air strike.