the academy ➢ fitzsimmons

➢19

July, 20th

➢

Fitz woke up before I did, I knew this because when I woke up He way playing with my hair and the sunshine streaming through the window lit up his hazel eyes. I almost didn't want to wake up but I knew if I didn't now, the kink in my neck would last a few days.

I rubbed Fitz knee before slowly pushing myself into a sitting position, "good morning, Fitz."

"Good morning Simmons." He said with a small, faded smile. He put his hand up to my head once more to fix my hair which I could feel was matted at one side.

"Your leg truly does not serve as a very good pillow." I laughed and my hand tried to rub out the ache in the left part of my neck.

"Why did you come over to the couch?" He looked over at me with a smile still in his face, "I mean, I'm not complaining but why?"

"I don't know actually, you usually talk in your sleep but you didn't last night." I looked over at him, "at least until I fell asleep you didn't say anything, so I just came over and feel asleep here."

"I think you left a bruise on my leg," he got up and faked a limp over to his bag on the floor, "we have a couple of post-classes this week, are you ready?" He asked fumbling through his bag for a shirt.

"Yes of course I am!" I said excitedly jumping up and making my way to my closet to get changed for the day. My post-classes were the same as Fitz's so it kept our schedule easier and we can go in to town during the week.

As we were finished getting ready, our walk through the main hall started. While walking through Fitz and I had been looking up at our awards. Our impact in this academy was incredible; both of us had gotten more awards than either of us could count with hands combined. 'Grace Murray Hoppers Award', 'L'Oréal-UNESCO Awards for Women in Science', 'Massry Prize', 'National Academy of Sciences', and 'Niels Bohr International Gold Medal' we're just few of my achievements.
We were both so proud, and the feeling of having my name up on a plaque where everyone that goes through the main hall could see it was all I had ever dreamed of. My dreams have expanded further since then and I'm not stopping now and neither is Fitz. Fitz and I seemed to never want to actually graduate so we continued our small classes through the academy, which was allowed by our beloved professors.

"Hey Simmons I have to ask you about something." Fitz said stopping my right in front of the fireplace, just a few few from the exit.

"Okay–"

"What did you mean, in your letter, about settling in that small town in Scotland? Perthshire?" He asked and my stomach dropped because I completely forgot I even wrote that in there.

My face reddened with embarrassment, "I thought the context was quite clear, we work so well together and I'm not saying getting married right now or anything around those lines," I was not helping my case but I continued, "I just mean that I want to have some type of career, some type of life, where you are just down the hall."

"Oh that makes sense now." And then he started to laugh a little bit, "but I would like it better if you were just on the other side of the room."

We walked into Vaughn's class, awkwardly, and found our seats in the front of the classroom. But it wasn't even a minute in until we were asked to talk to Vaughn. I could feel Fitz's heart beat and I bet he could feel mine too.

Fitz leaned over as we walked up to the desk, "pranking was your idea."

"Shut up, will you?"

"Fitz and Simmons, so lovely to have you back. I have some great news for you two. Would you please follow me." We were taken practically by the hand into the conference room. We had been in here multiple time throughout our days at the academy but this time it seemed different. The door shut and Vaughn was no longer in the room, which gave me a very uneasy feeling. Fitz and I just looked back and forth from each other, to every other part of the room. Neither of us said anything as we both say in the leather chairs, our hands figuring with peeling arm rests. But that when we heard the glass door from the other side of the room open. A man, probably in his early fifties, wearing a suit, walked in and sat across the large table from us.

"Jemma Simmons. Leopold Fitz. My name is Phil Coulson."