The Best Friends

They're seven years old, sitting on swings and absently swinging their legs through the air. The other children run and laugh and play, all so naïve and average and normal.

But while the others scream and talk about superheroes and dolls, they're considering what the correct amount of sodium bicarbonate would be to create optimal flow on their baking soda volcano.

It's simple, easy and them. No one else cares, and they themselves had long since given up trying to associate with their peers. The others didn't understand them like they did.

That is, until the pretty girls flock around Jemma whilst Fitz looks on nervously.

Raina steps forward first, tugging the popular boy Trip so he's next to her. He shoots them an apologetic grin, wincing at the smirking girl next to him.

"What's wrong, Jemma?" She asks, sugar-sweet voice dripping with mockery. "Why are you so alone?"

Jemma hesitantly lets her gaze dart between Raina, Trip and Fitz, who looks bashful. She swallows. "I'm not alone. I have Fitz,"

Raina lets out a puff of breath. "But he won't hold your hand. Not like my Trip, or Grant, or Lincoln."

Jemma pushes down the urge to correct her grammar. "Well, what's so great about holding hands?" She huffs back. "No woman needs a man. Unless he's holding her purse while she kicks the bad guy's butts."

A small grin blooms on Fitz face. Of course Jemma wouldn't hesitate to talk about her idol Peggy Carter.

"That's true," Raina smirks. "But that doesn't make you cool."

A few of the other girls snicker, making Jemma look abashed. A light blush coated her cheeks, but she didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." She turned on her heel. "Come on, girls!"

Trip mouths a "sorry" over his shoulder before he's disappeared into the crowd.

Jemma sighed, scuffing the toe of her sneaker into the dirt. Fitz didn't miss the way the excitement that lit up her eyes as she talked about science had diminished after the girls attacked.

"It's not fair that they talk to you like that," he whispered softly.

Her eyes flicked to his before retreating back down. "Mum says they're just jealous."

Another silence lapsed between them, Fitz sadly watching the other children play. No one wanted to hang out with them except Bruce, and that was only when Tony wasn't convincing him to help build another haphazard invention.

"I could hold your hand," he offered quietly. "It's what friends do, yeah?"

Her head shot up to look at him. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

He grinned at her burst of liveliness. "I'd be honored."

The bell rang shortly after, and Jemma excitedly slipped her palm into his. Her pigtails bounced merrily as she pulled him across the school yard and into the hallway.

She stuck her tongue out at Raina's slightly shocked face before ducking into their class room with Fitz.

Somehow, their hands fit together snugly. But when Jemma tried holding the new boy Will's hand later that day, it didn't feel as right as Fitz's had.

So if she held Fitz's hand all the way up to his doorstep, she was just expanding her range of data.

--

Five years come and pass, and all too soon middle school has begun. It's a brand new territory with lockers and bells, but somehow she doesn't feel too lost when Fitz is holding her hand.