Fitzsimmons

Can this happen?

Quick Note: I wrote this pretty carelessly and now I want it to happen in the show. There are parallels. It might be sad.

---------------------------------------------

"They didn't make it back," Jemma said for about the fifth time that meeting.

"Yeah, we got that, Simmons," Coulson replied, narrowing his eyes slightly as he leant over the table where blueprints were strewn. May's eyes flickered with worry for a moment before settling to a shady suspicious stare. Skye grabbed her friend's hand under the table, not knowing the extent of what she had said, but showing support nonetheless. Fitz would've done the same, but he was unfortunately seated on the other side of the table, so instead he tried to catch her eyes. She wouldn't meet his gaze, and he suddenly knew something was extremely wrong.

"Er, Bakshi was at the end of the pack. Maybe he got caught by a guard as we walked out."

"Mr. Bakshi is not the concern here," Coulson said sternly, addressing Jemma specifically. She swallowed and looked away. Skye's hand clenched around Jemma's.

"Maybe Agent Simmons really doesn't know, Phil," May butted in, drawing Coulson's eyes off of Simmons. "She was focused on getting Mike and Lincoln out. It makes sense that she wasn't keeping track of anyone else."

"Yeah, nothing happened," Fitz chimed in, forcibly relaxing back on the chair so as to not look suspicious. Hunter nodded at Coulson assuringly.

"Okay," said Coulson, and Jemma breathed out. "If I find out otherwise..." May shot him a stern look. "I trust you to do the right thing, Jemma. Meeting dismissed."

Everyone filed out of the room, Skye looking once over her shoulder as she stepped through the door. It seemed to be an unspoken rule among the team. When one of the scientific pair was obviously troubled, they spoke with the other first. And the entire team respected that, so Fitz and Jemma were left alone in the meeting room to talk things through.

As soon as the door closed, Fitz eased out of his chair and took a seat closer to Jemma. He tried not to look too eager, but Jemma could see right through it.

He was about to say something. In fact, he had rolled in his lips in preparation for a conversation, but then he noticed her slight cringe. She contracted her face, tightening her jaw stiffly, and leaned back an inch. So instead Fitz brought his fidgeting hands to hers, brushing his calloused fingers across the back of her soft hand.

Jemma stared at their intertwined hands and thought of her failure to the team. She should never have gone after Ward like that. Now he was gone, and the team was fractured again, and it was all her fault. After all, if traitorous scum like Ward could be disappointed in her, she must have sunken low. Tears welled in her eyes as she pictured Bakshi's eternally shocked face. He was staring at her with eyes so pained she could barely breathe. A guilty tear escaped her.

Fitz continued stroking her hand gently, in the soft silence of the abandoned meeting room. It reminded him of nights in the lab back at the academy, nights when they slept off of coffee and stressed over trivial science projects. He would hold her hands back then, too. But it was so different now. A drop thudded to the floor, and Fitz stole a glance at Jemma's heartbreaking face.

"I didn't mean to," she uttered, then cleared her throat and pulled away a hand to dab at her eyes. Fitz took her hand again as soon as she was done. He smiled, sadly yet encouragingly. "I was trying for Ward, and he just stepped in the way..."

"Jemma," Fitz started in response. The single word seemed to convey everything she needed to hear, and she finally met his gaze. "I forgive you, and the rest of the team will, too. C'mere." He opened his arms, and Jemma practically leapt into them, pressing her face into his neck. His pulse pounded next to her ear.

"You're gonna be okay," Fitz whispered through wisps of her hair. Jemma shivered, as if in protest of his promise. Fitz gently nudged her into a sitting position and straightened her out, then caught her eyes yet again. "We're gonna fix this. Together."

Jemma nodded, and reached up to clear her tears, but Fitz's shirtsleeve got there first. Things seemed to slow down, and he kept his hand where it rested on her temple. She leaned into the touch a bit, suddenly determined to finally ignite something between them. Fitz stole a glance at her mouth and tensed up. His breath rushed out quickly and brushed across her lips. Fitz's expression flickered with worry and he started to pull back, but Jemma caught him and tethered him close.

"Jemma," he blurted softly, both as a warning and a beckoning. He loved her so much, and he wanted this so much, but what if she didn't? If something were to happen between them, would she later regret it?

Simmons, with a gentle smile, secured her long fingers to the locks behind his ears. He had gotten away from her too many times. She wouldn't let life separate them anymore. Fitz's eyelids closed first, as if bracing for impact, and Jemma's stayed open just long enough to see him finally relax.