Jealous

Chapter 2

Taken from the Oxford online dictionary:

jealous. Pronunciation:/ˈdʒɛləs/adjective. Origin. Middle English: from Old French 'gelos', from medieval Latin 'zelosus'.

Definition #2: feeling or showing a resentful suspicion that one's partner is attracted to or involved with someone else.

Bloody Hell.

Bloody Buggering Hell.

When he and Simmons had left the lab -later than predicted, but that prototype they were working on needed to be finished- he had hoped to take a good, hot
shower, get something for dinner and maybe relax a bit watching a movie.

And doing all of this together with his partner would have been perfect.

Well, not all. Not the shower part.

Not that he would have actually minded if it had happened but -No. He really had to shut down that stream of thoughts. Immediately.

This was happening too often lately...

...Anyway..

Fitz didn't really envision his night to be like this.

He had come out of his bunk ready to make something for dinner. He wasn't that much of a cook -not as Jemma was- but he thought that making some simple sandwiches were enough.

He didn't expect to find Skye and Ward by the bar, drinking and talking. Rather amiably, he had to add.

He didn't expect them to be talking about the mission in Ossetia. He didn't imagine to be invited to sit and then find himself on the armchair with a beer that he hadn't even started since he hadn't dined and Skye laughing at the whole Martha/Vladimir/Little Bear incident.

He was hoping(praying) that Ward hadn't talked about anything else previously.

Like him talking about Jemma the whole time.

Really, what was he thinking? Talking about your so-called partner 24/7, recalling amusing stories about her, telling how she calls his inventions... Seriously, even Ward with his teaspoon-sized emotional range, could wonder about it... Beside being annoyed and all.

He was trying to find a way to leave when Jemma arrived. And joined them.

And he suddenly felt a combination of dread and elation all together. It was a constant whenever he saw her and was with her. Which meant..always.

He had to do something about these feelings. But even his analytical mind couldn't come up with a quick solution to the problem: What to do when you realize that you're probably(surely) in love with your best friend/partner.

He couldn't even meet her stare when he felt all these emotions drowning him. How the bloody hell was he supposed to talk to her about them?

Tonight the dread was doubled because of Skye's source of hilarity: himself. He just wanted all of this to end. Now.

But no. He had to endure this torture of Skye laughing and Ward pointing out how he..fraternized with the Russian mobsters. He started to ignore the brunette talking, making it sound like a buzz in his ears now.

At least, Jemma wasn't laughing with them. He stole a glance at her and saw that she just looked mildly confused: her brows were slightly scrunched, eyes adorably puzzled and a half smile dancing on her lips.

'Fitz, get a grip..' He chastised himself.

His hold on the beer bottle tightened. He had to stop doing this. Observing her every move and feature to the point that he could trace it out blindfolded.