Aftermath

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And here is where the plot pace begins to pick up! Hope it's worth the mini-wait. :)

So, I'm not a huge StaticQuake shipper, but it fit, so I'm going with it. Prepare for lots of Lincoln, as I enjoy his character though he could be much further developed in the show . . .


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"I'll go home, to Sheffield,"

Fitz's face broke. "Jems, you can't be serious-"

She nodded, looking down sheepishly. It had played out better in her head over the past few days, but now that it was out there it didn't seem quite so simple.

"I . . . I just," her hand did a dance in the air as she searched for the right words. "I can't do this anymore, Fitz. Be a Mum when it's quite obvious that -"

"She loves you?" He bit back. "That she hasn't complained once through all of this? She's trooping through it, Jemma. For you. The least you can do -"

"- is try?" She snapped back at him. "That's all I've been doing, Leopold. Trying to -"

Lincoln let his gaze dart between the two of them. It seemed he or some other poor agent was always getting caught in the middle of these things.

"- can't remember -"

"- not my bloody fault -"

"- shouldn't have let you go into -"

"- if you would get your head out of -"

"- we're all just -"

"-and listen to me -"

"Enough!" Lincoln slammed his fist down on the table. Both scientist's mouths snapped shut. Lizzie peeked back out from where she'd taken shelter behind the desk.

"This is not the time or place," he muttered finally. "I'm sorry, but you need to put aside whatever this is and shelve it for some other time. We're under attack, in case you've forgotten,"

Jemma bit her tongue, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. Her cheeks were on fire.

"M'sorry," Fitz mumbled at last. "That was wrong,"

Lincoln nodded, turning and stalking off to the door. "I'm going to do a sweep of the area. Keep your talk for another time,"

Jemma winced when she heard the door slam. Fitz let out a heavy breath, running a hand through his curls. "I'm sorry,"

Jemma raised her eyes to his hesitantly. "It's alright. I'm sorry too, for what it's worth."

"S'not your fault," he muttered, walking around the desk separating them to pick Lizzie up. "We're all jus' under a lot of stress,"

His brogue had returned heavily in his upset. Despite herself, she couldn't help but find it rather handsome.

She had - or at least sixteen year old her - already pegged her type to be stronger, more manly than Fitz. But every day she spent with him, she began to realize why she'd fallen in love.

Fitz was unlike anyone she'd ever met. He was beyond intelligent, caring to a fault, loving to the point it hurt. He was an open book, a warm favorite whose pages she could read again and again and never tire of. He -

She stopped herself suddenly. This wasn't her. This couldn't be. Fitz was just a man, like all the rest. He wasn't any more than appeared on the cover, she consoled herself. Oh, and she was supposed to be mad at him.

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