Begin Again

Day twenty-eight

She felt giddy and breathless, like a lovestruck teenager sneaking stolen kisses when everyone else's back was turned. And she had to admit, even without full control of his motor skills and a distinct lack of experience, Fitz really was a brilliant kisser.

The sweet kiss yesterday had blossomed, turning into a series of long, searching kisses and then short ones peppered along her collarbone. He'd even found the strength to sit up and tangle his calloused fingers in her hair, with her hands wrapped in his hospital shirt next to the napkin with her heart on it.

It wasn't the first time that she'd done this, but she suspected that the scrap of paper she had entrusted to him had been left behind in the pandemonium of the past. Last time the heart had meant something different, this time she was truly offering herself up to him for him to mould her like putty in his own hands.

And she was sure that she wouldn't regret even a second of it.

~*~

"Hey, Fitz," Simmons said, placing a light kiss on his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered and his mouth curved into a weak smile that made her doughy at the knees.

"Hey, Jemma," he replied, his blue eyes finally opening and she found what she had been searching for all along: recognition.

She was no longer a stranger to him, and in twelve short days had opened up a door in his normally so guarded heart and invited her to walk straight inside. It didn't matter anymore that he had no recollection of their time together, she meant something to him now and that was all she ever wanted.

"I brought you another sandwich." She set it down on the table next to the soft toy monkey. Laughing, she held up its arm and waved to the still sleepy Fitz. "Did you ever give me a name?"

"Nah," Fitz muttered. "D' you wanna think of one?"

Simmons' laugh turned to her stern teacher face, and he grinned at her seriousness. "No, I'm your monkey. It has to be you who names me, not Jemma."

"Alrigh' then. Girl or boy?"

"Boy, I think. You always wanted a male monkey," Simmons said thoughtfully. "Come on, we haven't got all day."

"What's the male form of Jemma?"

Simmons frowned for a moment. "I don't think there is one. Do you want me to look it up?"

"Nah, I've made my choice. How does Phil sound?" Fitz asked, and Simmons' eyes widened.

"Phil, as in..."

"I think I used to have a friend called Phil. I'm not sure though, did I?"

Simmons' voice was barely a whisper. "Yes."

~*~

It was starting to come back to him now, piece by piece, little by little. She didn't think that he'd ever fully remember who he used to be, but at least he would fill some of the gaps in the jigsaw.

Simmons hated jigsaw puzzles. They always used to irritate her, especially if all of the pieces looked the same. She always loved solving things, but a jigsaw always got on her nerves because most of the time it just didn't work.

Fitz was always happy to help though, trying on different ideas, putting this piece here and this piece there until it all matched up. Together, they could solve any puzzle.

They needed each other now, and Simmons wasn't going to let him down.

Story Recommendation

He's Alive (A Fitzsimmons and AOS Story) by beyoungandbeautiful

After Season One finale, different perspectives of the team (mainly focusing on Fitzsimmons).

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