Fitzsimmons

Daydreaming

Quick Note: this whole thing has me going "awwwwww" in my head. Enjoy.

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Simmons blushed when she realized what she was thinking about. This definitely hadn't been the first time she had caught herself in the act. Hell, it probably wasn't even the tenth time. These thoughts were originally alarming, but now they came to her as naturally and easily as freshmen chemistry class. How could they be wrong?

It would start with just a glance his way. He would usually be fiddling with some screwdriver and an assortment of metal pieces, unconsciously making that concentrated face that she loved to watch. The one where he bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows together into a straight line. The one where his jaw clenched tight and she desperately wanted to run her mouth up the slant to the crevice between his neck and his ear.

That's when it transformed into picturing the many different ways they could be together. She could walk up to him while he worked, hunched over the bench. Wrap her arms around his torso and lean into his back. Whisper sweet nothings in his ear, then pull away just enough to trace her lips down the side of his neck and back up, to monitor his pulse point. Place a hand over his heart and track his heartbeat as it began to race out of his chest in time to her own.

"Jemma," he'd say in that beautiful way of his, and she'd have the breath swept out of her. She'd reach for his hands, trailing her fingers down the veins in his forearms and lacing them into his own.

"Fitz," she'd say with a genuine smile, then turn him around in her arms, keeping them close.

Fitz would stutter a bit before she'd drop his hands and sweep her arms around and up his neck, forcing eye contact while Fitz jittered and fumbled with his newly opened hands, eventually settling them shakily on her waist.

"Oh, just try to enjoy it," she'd chide him teasingly before threading her spindly fingers into his curls, tugging his head forward. He would reach his arms up higher on her back to anchor her to him, and his eyes would close instinctively. She would be able feel his faltering breath warm on her face before pulling him down to finally kiss him.

Jemma would usually startle herself out of the daydream by how intensely she mentally kissed him. Now she'd smile and shake her head at herself, and her amazing ridiculousness, and the pink tinge and her pale cheeks. This was not her first crush, but this one reminded her of it. Her stomach flipped when she recalled that he returned her feelings, or at least he had.

That thought made her unusually sad. Fitz had admitted to loving her, she was certain of that. But after all of their fights and the terrible miscommunication, had his feelings survived? She liked to think they did, no matter how bad things got, but that was fairytale thinking. This was real life, and in real life you don't always get second chances at this sort of thing. So Jemma would just settle with daydreams and fantasies. Lord knows it would only save her from further heartbreak.

"Jemma," Fitz spoke, and Jemma internally sighed. She was honestly convinced she was still in a daydreamy haze.

"Jemma," he repeated, and she jumped, frightened out of her mind.

"You're staring," Fitz commented, giving her a weird look before going back to his work.

Jemma held in a laugh, turning back to her station. This was by far the worst she'd ever handled a crush.