Fitzsimmons

Fitz is Adorable

Quick Note: Sorry this is so short. I promise I'll update the AU soon. This is a one shot about Fitz being a nuisance to his 'real shield' trackers.

Should I change this border thing?
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Fitz lay in a hotel room on the third night out of HQ. He was thinking a lot of things all at once, like he used to do before his injury. It was sort of exhilarating, all of the thoughts rushing steadily through his mind.

His tracking team requested a room next to him, and he thought they could not be more obvious. He thought of the small black box flung between his hands carelessly, and he thought of how they had almost been killed because of the important secrets it held. He thought of the scratchy discomfort of his over-worn clothes. But mostly he thought about Jemma.

Was she okay? Were the people at HQ believing her story? Was Agent May there to comfort her? Jemma could not be alone through this. Had she told anyone else? Was she remaining loyal to Coulson?

Those were all important thoughts Fitz probably should've made his first priority, but instead he was thinking about the lipstick she wore and the particular brown shade of her beautiful eyes. Fitz thought of how he wanted to be able to graph the wave of her hair, and formulate her handwriting of her single word 'love'. How he wished to be curled into her, in the safety and ignorance of her dorm at the Academy.

Unfortunately, that was impossible because Simmons needed to stay undercover. Also, their dorm room had been thoughtlessly destroyed in the Hydra takeover. Not to mention the thick tension between them. Even if circumstances were mostly correct, she would still be carefully rejecting him.

He still thought about her eyes, though.

She had written 'love'. His heart skipped a beat every time he re-read the note attached to his special sandwich. He kept it in his front pocket, the one closest to his heart. It kept him steadily going, knowing a piece of Jemma was near and chiding him to 'be safe'.

He just wanted to get this bloody mission over with so he could get back to her. He couldn't understand the mechanics of the cube yet (which was annoying as hell) but once he did, he would open the little sucker, get in contact with Coulson, and return to HQ and immediately embrace her. Only if she was comfortable with it, of course.

The minutes passed were filled in awe of her cleverness. How would he ever measure up to her at all?

"Jemma Simmons, I love you," Fitz said aloud, just to test the way it sounded. He was fairly satisfied with the sentence, so he continued on. "I guess I've already told you before, but I wanted to make it as clear as possible. I am in love with you." He had to smile to himself before continuing. "I love the way your eyes flicker around when you're examining microscopic samples. I love the way your voice raised an octave or two when you lie. I love the way you treat people in general. You're always putting others before yourself, and you go about it in the smartest way possible. Please, let me put you before anyone else. You sure as hell deserve it."

Just then, Fitz's tracking team next door pounded on the wall, telling him to shut up. Fitz laughed loudly before tucking the cube into his sock and double-locking the door. Some 'S.H.I.E.L.D.' he was dealing with. Couldn't even take a bit of embarrassingly passionate late-night talk. He laughed again as he settled into his bed, then turned off the lamp.

Before he let himself fall asleep, he managed one final annoyance.

"I love Jemma Simmons!" he shouted loudly, then held his breath for the response.

Sure enough, someone on the tracking team was pounding on the wall and yelling again, using very colorful language that Jemma would never approve of.

He barely caught a "what a looney" before he burst into a laughing fit, content in his empty love profession and light pranking of the enemy. Fitz succumbed to the darkness with a lingering thought of Jemma cuddled up against him.

Unsurprisingly, he dreamt of her again that night.