Fitzsimmons

I Lied

Quick Note: Can you all see the video I attached in the previous Author's Note? If you can't, just search 'Fitzsimmons the movie' on YouTube. It's a pink thumbnail, if that helps.

Sorry it's been so long! Wattpad wasn't saving my chapters!

This will probably be a really short one-shot, as well. It's a continuation of the one-shot I wrote awhile ago about Jemma going to a party and Fitz rescuing her.

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Jemma sat next to the hospital bed. Fitz had woken before, of course, but only briefly and never long enough to have a serious private conversation. Around ten, when Jemma was about to unwillingly fall asleep in her chair, Fitz rustled under the crisp hospital sheets.

"Jemma?" was his first word. The room was only lit by the television playing whatever late night show, so neither could see.

"Right here, Fitz." she said sleepily. Fitz shut his eyes again.

"Anyone else?" he whispered.

"No, the team's out on a mission." Jemma sat up, forcing herself to awake. Fitz let out a breath.

"Can we talk about...?" he asked hesitantly, and Jemma, despite all the arguments she could come up with against it, found herself nodding. Although she knew he couldn't see it, she knew he would understand.

"Listen, I was under a lot of pressure down there," Fitz reopened his eyes, but avoided her gaze.

"Nice pun." Jemma replied with a gentle half smile. She caught a twitch of the corners of Fitz's mouth before he returned to his reasoning.

"I was stressed, and I wasn't thinking about what I was saying or what I was doing, and I got caught-"

"Fitz," Jemma cut him off before he could ramble on any farther. Fitz stared at where he thought Jemma was sitting, and Jemma used the natural pause in their conversation to select her next words carefully.

"Remember that time at Sci-Ops when I went to the party in the Boiler Room without you?" she started.

"I'm surprised you do," Fitz answered with a bashful grin. Jemma didn't echo his amusement, though. She was going to do it now.

"I lied." she confessed simply, searching Fitz's face for signs of understanding.

"You weren't drunk?" Fitz questioned, utterly perplexed. "But why did you try to..." he stopped talking, and Jemma observed his face contort in thought.

"You liked me?" he concluded in a whisper.

"Yes," Jemma replied sincerely.

"Do you, still?" Fitz spoke eagerly. Jemma didn't want to ruin the glimmer of hope in his eyes, so she altered her next answer slightly.

"It's possible," she said, managing to keep her tone neutral. Promise-free, but still good enough to keep Fitz's spirits up. Jemma took in the joy on his face as she told him, and tried to take a mental snapshot to remember this Fitz.

Fitz didn't speak again for awhile, and Jemma eventually heard him snoring. Typical, whether he was in the hospital or not.

Now Jemma was left to think about where she currently stood with Fitz. She couldn't keep herself from remembering the giddiness she had felt when they were so close that night Jemma had faked her intoxication. She made note of the recurring feeling, resolving to let her new feelings come freely.

After all, there was no time to selfishly spend effort on controlling her feelings when her Fitz was still recovering.