Begin Again

Day forty

Skye drove, leaving Fitzsimmons in the back seat. He had his legs stretched out onto Jemma's lap, his seatbelt probably useless. Jemma didn't have the heart to scold him, instead watching him stare out the window with a slight smile on her face.

Skye had put in a CD and was singing extremely loudly and terribly, nodding her head to the music and dancing as well as she could at the same time as driving. She had the windows down too and attracted more than a few strange looks from fellow motorists, although she seemed to either be oblivious or not give a damn.

"You two are quiet," she commented after a particularly raucous chorus. "Join in."

Jemma laughed. "I would, but I don't know the words."

"Look through my case, I'm sure there's something in there that you'll know," Skye said and handed her a case packed full of discs. "I always used to listen to CDs when I lived in my van, it just brightened the place, and I never chucked anything out. Do you know Mat Kearney?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry."

Skye gasped loudly. "What? Where's your head been for the past couple of years? Under a rock? Stuck in your -"

"I do know The Fray, though," Jemma cut in before Skye's rambles got any worse. "Can you put them on?"

"Sure." She grabbed the disc from Jemma's hand and inserted it in the player, giving her the previous on in return. "Can you put this one back in the case?"

Fitz blocked his ears when Jemma joined in the - can you call it singing? - and she and Skye got right into it.

"She is everything I need that I never knew I needed, she is everything I want that I never knew I wanted..."

Jemma smiled at Fitz. "If you don't know the words, you could at least dance. Come on, it's fun."

"Jems, this is your solo!" Skye called from the front seat and Jemma started singing again before he had a chance to reply, but the ecstatic expression on her face and the way her eyes lit up as she sang was enough to convince him to join in.

~*~

They pulled up in front of a pale blue house. The garden was neat, roses lining the white picket fence and the grass tidily trimmed. Skye bounced out of the car and went straight to the boot, but Fitzsimmons didn't move, happily looking at the house that had become their new home.

"Guys? Are you getting out?" Skye yelled and Jemma went to move but couldn't.

"Fitz, your legs - I can't move."

He blushed and twisted so that his legs were off her lap, but he was shaking and she steadied him, almost carrying his legs. "I've got you, it's okay."

Fitz got out of the car on his own, however, managing to open the door and swing his body out. She watched him with pride before joining Skye at the boot and taking Fitz's bag first.

"No, you don't need to," Fitz began before Jemma cut him off.

"I've got it -"

"Please let me. I hate feeling useless."

She hesitated, then handed him the bag and pulling the wheels out from the bottom. "If you have any trouble, just call."

"I'm not made of porcelain, Jem. I'll be okay," he said gently, then gripped the handle. Jemma turned back to Skye and grabbed her own bag from the boot, following Fitz up the narrow stone path.

The inside was just as beautiful as the exterior. The walls were the same pale blue as the outside of the building and the furnishings were pale wood and cream. She put her bag down and took Fitz's hand.