Homework Buddies

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"This is absolute shite!"

Fitz watched the pencil he threw across the room roll under his door and out to the hallway. He rolled his eyes and flopped onto his bed, frustrated to infinity.

Biochem. It was always biochem.

At least it wasn't due until after the break, but even if he was moderately alright at it, there is always this one girl with the smuggest smile in the entire Academy that raised her hand before his, got better marks than his, and finished the exam quicker than he did. What's worse was that she was in every single one of his classes other than engineering, which is where he really shone.

Fitz set his jaw in what his mother would call a 'childish pout'. If she was in his engineering class... that would really show her. She wasn't the only genius at the Academy. Far from.

He sat up suddenly, drumming his fingers on his thigh. It was close to the end of the term. His engineering class was the same slot as hers. And his was emptier.

Fitz grabbed the phone and dialled the main office. "Hello? Leo Fitz here."

"Cadet Fitz! Wonderful to hear from you, as always." He could hear the secretary grinding her molars from the phone. "What can I do for you?"

Fitz let out a breath. "Yeah, I was wondering if I could get one Jemma Simmons moved to my engineering class next term? She's-"

"Of course, Cadet Fitz," the secretary interrupted him smoothly. "We'll update her schedule accordingly. I assume you want to stay anonymous?"

"Yes, please." Fitz grinned. Campus genius had its perks, definitely. "Thank you, Miranda."

"Anytime, cadet," she sighed. Which loosely translated to 'don't call again for another month and we'll call it even'.

Fitz put the receiver down and got up. He needed to pack now. He could get his mother to help with his biochem. For now, at least.

•••

"So, how's school been, darling?"

Fitz watched his mother sit down at the table across from him before he picked up his fork. "It's been fine. Biochem's got me down." He paused at her look.

"Say grace, dear," his mother reminded him.

Fitz sighed internally as he clasped her hands. "May the Lord bless our meal and the hands that prepared them, amen." He opened his eyes and tore apart his buttered roll. "Anyways, yeah. Biochem is a monster. How've you been?"

His mother tore apart her roll with slender fingers. She could've been a surgeon. Or a cellist. "I've revisited moving into the city," she told him. "It's closer to the airport so I don't have to make the drive to retrieve you."

Fitz swallowed down his soup. "You could move to America with me. SHIELD can guarantee you a visa for as long as you like. And I can visit over the weekends instead of just term breaks." He fiddled with his spoon. "You could go back to school."

His mother snorted. "With what money? I barely have enough to move if I sell the house. It's old, Leo. I'm old." She stabbed the meat on her plate. "I can't go back to school. I don't even have a diploma."

"We can get you one." Fitz reached over the table to hold her hand. "It'll be a fresh start. And you're not that old. You're barely double my age. You're not even forty."

"Thirty-six is old to everyone, son," his mother replied tartly.

"No! It's not!" Fitz chewed on his carrots with a little frustration. "Some thirty-six year olds don't even have kids yet!"