Chapter Text
Jemma took a deep breath and sighed. It wasn't Mack's fault that he was in charge of keeping the monolith secure. She understood that, of course, but she was having a difficult time just now not being irked by it. She had research to do, and all of these safety precautions he had in place were slowing her down. And frustrating her to no end.
She winced slightly as her abdomen twinged but tried to focus on the monitor in front of her. Time enough for that later. There was work to be done.
The door at the side of the room swung open with a creak and soft footsteps padded over to her. Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she tried to indicate with her face and her body language that she didn't want to be disturbed just now, but whoever it was was ignoring her signals and coming closer to her anyway. She stared even harder at her equipment in the hopes of discouraging the interloper.
Her face softened slightly when she recognized the soft cough. Fitz.
"How erm-" he started, swinging his arms awkwardly and not looking at her. "How're you, ehm... Y'know? Getting on?"
She swallowed the flutter of hope that crept into her gut every time they had a conversation and tried to concentrate on her work. "I'd be doing a lot better if I were allowed to take samples instead of having to rely on sensor data," she grumbled, frowning at her keyboard.
"Yeah," Fitz nodded, head bobbing up and down more than necessary. "That's, ehm," he swallowed, swinging his hands together in a clap before swinging them apart again. He licked his lips and took a breath. "So, um, there's..." He cleared his throat. "I mean, for food, we... That is, you... and me?"
"Not that I don't think your sensors are good enough, of course," Jemma continued, not really hearing him. "It's just that they can't give me all of the information I need to know, is all." She sighed again and shook her head. "Do you think you could talk to Mack? Get him to ease the restrictions, just a bit?" She squinted at the monolith, as if by looking at it with a penetrating enough stare she could reveal its secrets.
"Sure," Fitz nodded. "Of course," he agreed absently, still nodding. He slid his hands up inside his cardigan sleeves until just the tips of his fingers poked out. "But about the other thing..." He brought his arms up to his chest, almost covering his face with his hands. "I was hoping we could... you know?"
"No!" Jemma replied, her frustration clear in her voice. "I don't!" She was under orders to get this monolith figured out yesterday, and with the total lack of cooperation she was getting from anyone at all, it was a wonder she'd been as polite as she had been. She winced again as the pain in her gut increased. Stupid bloody cramps.
"You keep rambling on and on, and I still don't know what you mean," she said, still staring at the monolith. If he wasn't here to help her, she'd really rather Fitz go back to the lab. At least that way, he wouldn't be distracting her. Or making her anxious.
She understood now why he'd waited until the last possible moment before he'd said anything to her about his feelings. This dreadful uncertainty about what he might be thinking after her admission was driving her mad. If he didn't feel the same as he had last year, she wished he'd just tell her already.
"Dinner." Fitz said, and from his tone he'd probably been trying to get that word out all along.
Now Jemma was feeling guilt on top of her nerves, anxiety, and frustration. Add in the increasing discomfort of her uterus, and she was anything but her usual polite self.
"Fast approaching, yes," she said impatiently. She needed him to leave before other, more maudlin, emotions surfaced. "And we'll eat it, I'm sure!" She'd apologize to him later, but right now she was doing her damnedest to make him turn tail and run.
"Yeah," Fitz nodded and the started shaking his head. "No, no, no, but-" he looked down at his shoes and put one hand on his hip. The other he kept raised, almost like a cue for his speech. "Uh," he took a breath, gathering his thoughts. Then he pointed from himself to her. "Me and you," he said, looking at her and stepping a bit closer.
Jemma blinked and looked at him, frowning in thought.
"Maybe we could eat," he continued. "Somewhere else."
She squinted at him as he leaned one hand against the monolith case. Where else would they eat? Unless he meant somewhere other than this room, in which case-
"Y'know..."
He was still looking at her, and there was an electric buzzing in her chest that was growing with each half-step closer he took. She tried to breathe normally and focused on the equipment in front of her rather than on him because every time she looked at him, she wondered-
"Somewhere..."
She wished he'd hurry up and say his piece because if he stayed in here much longer, she feared she might just cry. He was being so nice about the whole thing, nicer than she had been she had to admit, but it was fairly obvious that he'd gotten over her now and only wanted to be friends.
She'd only just realized how she felt for him, and already it was too late.
"... Nice."
Jemma stopped what she was doing as that last word sunk in. Nice? As in... nice?
She finally allowed herself to look at him again, her eyes rising a bit hesitantly to his face. He looked as hopeful as she felt at the start of every conversation they had these days.
Was it possible?
Her mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. Was Fitz...? She looked down, realizing how horrid she'd been to him and how she hadn't made this easy on him at all. There he was, getting up the nerve to... to... She swallowed hard. And there she was, trying to shoo him out of the room.
She looked back up at him, mouth opening and no sound coming out. Her mind was awash in a panic of wanting desperately to say the right thing and not knowing what that thing might be. Her heart was beating faster in her chest and there was a rushing sound in her ears and she seemed to have forgotten to breathe all of a sudden. She needed to say... to tell him... to tell him...
"Oh," she managed, nodding shakily. That wasn't at all what she wanted to have come out of her mouth, but it was all that she could push out past her lips.
Her mouth quirked in a nervous half smile and she fidgeted slightly, hoping against hope that enough of their "psychic bond" remained for him to understand everything she didn't know how to say.
Fitz smiled back at her, and she knew that he did.
Then his hand shifted on the monolith case and the moment was broken.
"Good," he said, inspecting the case rather than looking at her. "Okay," he said, turning with a nod.
Jemma pressed her lips together again, but this time rather than expressing her frustration it was to stop the mad grin from taking over her face. Dinner. With Fitz. Someplace nice. The electric buzzing that erupted in her chest any time Fitz was nearby had expanded outward to all of her limbs, and she was wondering if she might not start to fly if she weren't careful.
"Uh, well..." Fitz continued, and he was so adorably distracted that it was all she could do to keep from laughing. The relief that washed over her as soon as she understood what was happening was making her a bit punch drunk.
"Y-uhh... You should come find me when you're finished here, and, and I'll- I'll start working on options to run by you," Fitz clapped his hands together in front of himself again, "For that." She suddenly realized that she wasn't alone in her feelings of awkwardness and anxiety. He must have been feeling this way all year.
How had he managed to cope?
Placing his hands on his hips, he turned to leave the room.
He was almost to the door when she finally found her voice.
"Fitz!" she called after him.
He about-faced so quickly he almost lost his balance. "Yeah?" he asked over the squeak of his trainers. He was looking at her like he wasn't sure if she was about to kiss him or call the whole thing off.
Jemma's mouth twitched into a semi-smile again, and she looked down at her equipment one more time. She didn't want him to leave, but how to get him to stay?
"You could-" she swallowed quickly and took a breath before looking up at him again. Smiling a bit more naturally, she tried to get her voice to behave itself. "You could call up that Italian place that Bobbi was telling us about the other day?"
... Telling us about how romantic it was.
Jemma closed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line again. Presumptuous. What if he just meant as frie-
"Good uh, good idea," Fitz nodded, looking down at his shoes with his hands still on his hips. "I'll ehm," he looked up and fished in his back pocket for his phone. "I'll give them a call, shall I?" He was wandering closer again.
Jemma nodded and felt her face flush. "Mmhmm," she agreed. As a biologist, she knew that her heart hadn't just skipped a beat and yet that's certainly what it felt like.
"Seven o'clock, d'you think?" Fitz asked as he googled the number.
"Eight," Simmons squeaked. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with embarrassment. She was so nervous her voice had actually cracked.
Fitz looked up from his phone in surprise and stared at her for a moment. A smile just started to form at the corners of his mouth, and then he quickly looked down at his phone again. "Right," he nodded. "Eight."
He had just hit the green phone to dial when the monolith case suddenly sprang open.
Jemma opened her mouth to scream but the sound was immediately drowned out by liquid rock.
She was overwhelmed by a strange floating feeling and then a sharp tug in her gut. Her mind seemed to swirl like water emptying out of a basin, and she wondered if she might vomit. Then, as quickly as it had covered her, the molten monolith drew itself back into its case and stood as a solid pillar again.
Jemma slammed her hand against the case door and shouted, "Quick, Fitz! Lock it!"
But her voice was deeper than it should have been.
And her hand was larger.
And her sweater a different colour.
And she was standing on the wrong side of the case.
With a feeling of horror creeping over her, Jemma tore her gaze away from the monolith's case and looked over to her left.
She saw herself staring back at her.