Begin Again

Day thirty-five

The evening was long and sultry, and Fitzimmons decided to compensate for the overwhelming heat by sitting outside on the grass, watching the sun drift slowly down towards the horizon.

"What were my plans in life?" Fitz asked, resting on his side with his chin propped up against his elbow. "Did I ever tell you?"

Simmons shrugged. "Not really. Some things we didn't talk about that often, and one of them was where we would end up in another fifty years or so. I guess we just liked to live in the present, solve today's problems, and worry about tomorrow when it comes."

"Did you ever think about it, though?" He pressed on, intrigued.

"Yes. But I never pictured this," Simmons said, gesturing to him. "The incident in the ocean, your amnesia, the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Fitz smiled sadly. "Of course."

They were silent, and watched the sun complete the day's journey.

~*~

It was dark the next time they spoke.

"We should probably go inside," Simmons began, but Fitz cut her off.

"No, there's something I want to do first."

She looked over at him questioningly, her face illiuminated in the moonlight, and Fitz thought she'd never looked so beautiful. He got up slowly, leaning heavily on his arm as he pushed his body upwards.

"Dance with me."

Simmons frowned. "Dance? You never dance."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess," he said, and she nodded before standing up beside him. His hand rested securely on her waist and their fingers intertwined, feet only a few centimetres apart and noses side by side.

Simmons faltered for a second, saying, "There's no music."

"There's music everywhere, in the wind, in the trees, the crickets chirping in the grass and the rhythm of your breathing. Just listen, Jemma, and you'll hear it," he said softly, and she breathed in deeply, letting the soft scent of his shirt and the breeze playing with her hair infiltrate her senses.

He took a step forward and she copied him, letting him lead her left and right. She was sure that the hand twisted in the fabric covering his shoulder was trembling slightly, but ignored it as she fell deeper into the dance.

It was awkward and clumsy, their noses bumped and their feet trod on each other, but she let the giggles escape her lips as they moved. His sparkling blue eyes never left her face, the pale tone of her skin and long, black eyelashes framing amber irises. There was no beat that they danced to, and they let themselves go as the stars shone above them and the wind picked up and carried away their laughs and elated voices.

It felt like hours that they swayed together, lost in time. As the wind changed their dance changed; as it picked up their pace quickened and as it died they slowed. He lifted his arm and she spun around, skirt fanning out around mid-thigh, and she couldn't care less that the heat was dissolving into a nippy chill, the warmth of his body was enough.

He lowered her down, hand on back, and she gazed up at him. Their eyes connected for a moment and then his lips had captured hers. She responded passionately, standing up on tippy-toes, her hand cupping his stubbly cheek. The world stopped spinning as his tongue explored her mouth, and they moved seamlessly, almost as if they'd been doing it their whole lives.

When they broke away they were out of breath. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the way she bit her swollen lip, and shivered from her fingers sliding gradually down his biceps.

"We should go in now, as much as I never want this to end. The doctors won't be too impressed with us," Jemma said quietly.

"I don't care what they say," he replied, but let go of her waist and walked hand in hand with her back to the compound. "All I care about is you."

~*~

When she lay down to bed, Simmons thought about the distant future for the first time.

She saw a suburban house, brick walls and red roses, a neatly trimmed lawn and white fence. There were children's toys on the lawn, a large green ball and little playhouse. Fitz was there, a smiling little girl holding his hand and a boy with his arms around his father's legs.

She was there too, the lines around her eyes more defined, a few grey hairs on her scalp, but she looked happy.

It was a scene full of love and she hoped that the cards dealt to her in the game of life would point her in that direction.

Hey guys!

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