#thefitzwishlist

[crowley-anthony]

@teamengineering ‘the fitz wish list’ birthday project →  #wish 10: just for once, he wants to be the hero

[dilkirani]

speak: they’re only words

Written for the “having the courage to talk to Jemma for the first time” prompt for Team Engineering’s The Fitz Wish List. Academy-Era and post-Framework.

many thanks to @itsavolcano for the beta!

Read below or at ao3.

-----

i. then

Fitz knows he and Jemma Simmons will get along. He can tell by the way she eagerly raises her hand in lecture, by the way she fidgets when she’s chapters (books, really) ahead of the rest of the class. By her accent, which isn’t home, but it’s home-adjacent, and since he’s thousands of miles from his mum and his city, home-adjacent is more than enough. He can tell by the fact that she’s his age and has two PhDs, by the way their classmates seem to like her but don’t confide in her. She’s warm and friendly, but decidedly an odd bird, and underneath the surface she seems as lonely as he is. She has a Doctor Who sticker on her notebook and a fondness for his favorite kind of tea. In the same way he knows the laws of thermodynamics and that if he takes a machine apart he’ll be able to put it back together again, he knows, without a doubt, that she could be his friend.

When she answers a question in class, he helpfully adds on. Her ideas are dazzling, and he can’t contain the excitement he feels when imagining how his work could complement hers. His suggestions only spur even wilder possibilities from her, until inevitably their professors are forced to shut down their debate and their classmates look like they’ve had front row seats to Wimbledon.

But she always packs her things into her bag before Fitz can close his book, and in the library he’s too scared to make conversation.

“Hello,” he practices in front of the mirror, when his roommate is out. “Can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned? It’s so easy, right?” He raises an eyebrow and immediately cringes. He was aiming for disarming but thinks he landed on lecherous instead.

“Jesus Christ, man,” his roommate groans, stumbling into the room and somehow surmising, despite his inebriated state, what Fitz had been up to. “Why do I always get stuck with the children? Do you need your mummy to come make friends for you, too?”

Fitz’s face burns bright red and he rushes out of the room. When he nearly runs over Jemma Simmons in his haste to exit the building, he thinks how in the movies, this would be the moment she notices and comforts him. Instead, it’s the moment he decides to give up, because he’s wearing pajamas with monkeys on them and his eyes are watery, and maybe that angry voice in his head, the one that’s usually drowned out by his mum’s, really was right this whole time.

The day he finds himself paired with Jemma Simmons in chem lab, he can’t find the courage to even say hi. She might be having an off-day, because she seems annoyed when she sits next to him, and she doesn’t bother making polite conversation.

The longer this goes on, the more dejected he feels. There are so many things he wants to tell her, but if he stumbles over the words in his head, he has no hope of speaking them aloud. Every day he hears an irate, drunken voice telling him he’s stupid and worthless. Every day, he does nothing to disprove the accusations.

When the professor hands back their first lab assignment, she gives them each a genuinely warm smile. “Outstanding work, Fitz, Simmons. I knew pairing you two up could produce fascinating, creative results. I’d love for you to continue with this project on your own if you have the time. Why don’t you drop by my office hours sometime this week?”

Fitz and Simmons both nod mutely, matching wide eyes and stunned expressions. It’s certainly not the first time their work has been praised, or even the first time a professor has wanted to mentor one or the other outside of class. But it’s the first time a partnership has yielded a better outcome than solo effort. Fitz suddenly remembers all the times he’d thought his work could benefit from Simmons’s expertise and now it has, almost without him noticing.

Maybe, he thinks, as their professor leaves them to consider her offer, it’s not too late for a friendship after all. Maybe together they really could be twice as smart.

He licks his lips and shoves his hands beneath the table to hide the shaking. “So,” he says, smiling bravely, “can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned?”

++

ii. now

Fitz doesn’t have the courage to talk to her, not to really talk. At this point, he has spent over half his life confiding in someone who’s become his partner in every sense of the word. He can hardly remember what it felt like to be so afraid.

But now he has a monstrous guilt churning his stomach and squeezing his lungs. He has whispered confessions that should have been only for her, but she was never there. At the time he had thought he was the world’s biggest coward, but now he wishes, more than anything, that he had the courage of his youth. Or perhaps it was naiveté.

One night, months into their space confinement, Jemma turns to him and smiles. It’s sad but also gentle. Jemma has always had an almost unimaginable strength, but right now she has softened all her edges, as if she realizes Fitz is just one cut away from falling apart. He has already fallen apart, over and over and over again, but he appreciates her care all the same.

“Do you remember,” she asks, sitting next to him on their bed and leaning her head against his shoulder, “the first time you really spoke to me? After all those months of ignoring me and all you said was, ‘Can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned?’”

Fitz laughs sharply, so unaccustomed to a feeling of mirth that he shocks himself. He clears his throat. “Well. It wasn’t a particularly scintillating assignment.”

He can feel her smile, the side of her face pressed against his shirt. “That’s the first time I thought you might not hate me.”

Fitz tenses, pulling away to look at her and immediately regretting the loss of contact. “What? I never hated you!”

She rolls her eyes in the same way she’s rolled her eyes at him for years and years and it cracks his heart a little bit more. “You were constantly trying to one-up me! And the rest of the time you wouldn’t even speak to me.”

He doesn’t know what to say, reliving their first interactions and seeing it all from her perspective. Any other time, this kind of information would have made him laugh, but now it makes him a little queasy. “No,” he finally says, “I was just shy. I could never hate you.”

“What about now?” she whispers, and he glances at her in confusion. She picks at invisible lint on her trousers. “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t gone into the field in the first place. Do you hate me for that?”

“No,” he breathes out, incredulous. “No, of course not.”

“Why not?” Jemma’s voice, like her smile, is soft and sad. He wants, more than anything, to protect her. But this is where that desire has gotten them.

“How can I answer that?” he asks. “Maybe we would have died at the Academy when Hydra took over, who knows? And anyway, it was my choice to come with you. And I couldn’t...I could never hate you.” He turns away as he says this, not brave enough to tell her the real truth, which is: I could never hate you because I’ve always loved you. I loved you until I didn’t, and I don’t know how to live with that betrayal.

She places a hand to his heart and he worries she knows what he’s thinking anyway. “Then why don’t you believe me when I say the same thing?”

He sighs, leaning his head forward and rubbing a hand across his face. “Jemma, you deserve—”

“Fitz, stop,” she cuts him off. “Don’t tell me what I deserve. I know what I deserve and I know what I want. I just...I want us to talk again. I don’t know if that’s even possible and I don’t want to push you, but I miss you. I miss you so much.”

He looks at her and wonders how his heart can expand and shatter all at once. He opens his mouth and still, he cannot speak.

Jemma runs her fingers through his overgrown curls, and instinctively he melts into her touch. “I thought you hated me,” she says. “All those months I thought you were trying to belittle my ideas and prove you were smarter than me. I thought you found me annoying. And then you joked about Professor Vaughn’s assignment and it sounds so silly now, but somehow I just knew we would be the best of friends. I was right, but I was also wrong, because you’re my best friend but you’re also so much more than that.” She presses a kiss against the throbbing of his temple, feathersoft and achingly shy. “And you always will be, Fitz. I promise.”

When she smiles at him, he sees their entire history written across her face, and it’s such a deeply tragic history. But it’s also the countless victories, the comfort, the breakthroughs, the lives they’ve saved together, the times they laughed so hard they cried, the shared holidays as if they were married at twenty, and above everything else a love he could never even have imagined at sixteen years old. A love he still can’t believe he found.

Maybe, he thinks, it’s not too late for them after all. Maybe together they really could be twice as strong. Maybe this unbearable weight that breaks him more each day would be a little bit lighter, if only he could tell her everything.

He licks his lips and shoves his hands beneath his thighs to hide the shaking. “So,” he says, smiling bravely, “can you believe that work Generic Guard Number Three assigned?”

[jemmafitzsimmons]

Written to kick off @teamengineering‘s Fitz Birthday Project - the Fitz Wish List! We’re granting Fitz 30 wishes to celebrate his 30th birthday. :D This also fulfills the @thefitzsimmonsnetwork‘s Fanwork Friday Prompt “Surprise.” 

Wish #1: Chocolate Banana Cream Pie

Read below or on AO3!

~

Post S4 in Space 

“Jemma, we’re going to get caught.”

“No, we’re not. I called in a few favors. And it’s not like we’re doing anything scandalous. We’re just going to the rec room.”

She felt a bit silly pulling him along by his arm, making sure he didn’t knock into any walls or stub his toes along the way. It was nearly curfew, so they really shouldn’t be out this late, but Jemma was determined to make the most of the day even with the few moments of freedom they were allowed by their captors.

“Can I at least open my eyes? I’m not going to walk out into space, am I?”  

“Hilarious, you are,” she replied. “But not yet,” she added, squeezing his shoulder in encouragement. “We’re almost there.”

When she finally managed to guide him down the rest of the hallway and into the rec room, she positioned him in front of the card table at the center of the room and moved to his side, her hand lingering on his shoulder.

“Okay. Open.”

Hesitantly, he cracked one eye open, and then the other. Jemma watched closely as he took in the sight in front of him – a small cardboard box with a tiny blue ribbon tied on the top.

Fitz gave her a half chuckle. “Why’d you make me close my eyes if the surprise is wrapped?”

“Oh, shut up,” she scolded, nudging him playfully in his side. “It made it more exciting. Just sit, would you?”

“You didn’t have to do this – get me anything,” he said as he pulled out the folding chair on his left for her before sitting down in his own.

“But I wanted to. You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?” Pulling her knees up to her chin, she tilted her head to the side with a sweet smile.

“No, I just… I didn’t want to say anything in the small chance you did. And I didn’t want to make a fuss or anything.”

“Fitz,” she pleaded, reaching out to grasp his forearm. “You’ve been doing the opposite of making a fuss the entire time we’ve been here. You deserve something special just for you. But don’t get your hopes up. It’s nothing that spectacular.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s brilliant.”

For a moment, she thought of all the things she really wanted to get him for his birthday – a new lab, a trip home. Unfortunately, given the current situation of being nowhere near Earth, none of those ideas were possible. But he didn’t seem to mind. Simply being with each other on his birthday seemed to be enough to lift his spirits. That, and something sweet wouldn’t hurt.

Running her hands through her hair, she let out a short huff. “Alright, I can’t take this anymore. Open it!”

Fitz waited a few seconds, hesitantly looking between Jemma and the small box, but then he seemed to not be able to contain his excitement either. After untying the ribbon, he placed his hands on either side of the box’s top and lifted it up slowly to peek inside. To Jemma’s delight, his eyes lit up and his lip curled into a small smile.

“Happy Birthday,” she said softly. “I know it’s not much, but I just thought…”

“Chocolate banana cream.” Carefully, he took the small pie out of the box and placed it in the middle of the table.

“I know it was sort of the last decent memory we had on Earth, and the last time we had an actual meal together, so it was unfortunate it had to be interrupted. I’m sure the diner’s pie is much better, but I tried.”

Shaking his head, he kept his beaming eyes on the pie. “No, it looks amazing.” He then looked up and tilted his head slightly in her direction. “So, this is why you were being so nice to the cook for the last few weeks. I thought you were going mad.”

“Fitz, only a fool would call what they serve us food. But I figured the supervisors were being better fed, so there were bound to be ingredients of some kind that I could make work.”

“You made this all by yourself?” he inquired as he stuck his finger in the chocolate drizzle topping and took a satisfying taste.

“It’s not the best. Couldn’t really get the crust right, but I didn’t really have much time. It was nice of the cook to let me use the kitchen in the first place.” Fitz was about to dip his finger back into the pie, this time going for the whipped topping, so Jemma frantically reached into her back pocket. “Here. This might help.”

Fitz nodded as she handed him the plastic fork, but then he scooted away from his table and started quickly walking towards the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jemma asked as she craned her neck to follow his movements. He didn’t reply and disappeared, but came back a short moment later carrying an additional utensil.

“We need two forks,” he explained, holding it out in front of her.

Jemma waved her hand in front of him. “No, it’s fine. It’s for you, not me.”

“Oh, stop. You went to all this trouble, so you deserve to at least have a taste.”

Looking longingly at the pie and remembering the hours she spent trying to make it as perfect as possible, she sighed reluctantly, knowing he was right. “Alright then.”

Together, they dug their forks deep into the pie and each took a large bite, their eyes widening in sync.

“Wow,” Fitz mumbled as he continued to chew.

“Oh my god. It’s so good,” Jemma agreed. “Much better than I imagined.”

“I don’t care what that diner pie would have tasted like – this is far better.”

Jemma’s smile widened as she watched him enjoy his dessert. “I’m glad you like it.”

They continued to eat in silence, Fitz too preoccupied by his pie to make much of a conversation, so Jemma had to settle with her own thoughts. And as much as she simply wanted to enjoy this moment of him appearing the happiest he’s ever been in ages, she hoped he wasn’t just playing up his emotions just to make her feel better. The last thing she wanted was for him to downplay his own recovery. But the last few weeks, he’d seemed to be progressing in a positive fashion. He was talking more, as Jemma often found him chatting with Mack in the mornings during the short breaks they were given during their shifts. And he always seemed to be in a good mood whenever they retired to their shared bunk at the end of each day.

But she also didn’t know what was going on inside his head.

She knew keeping these thoughts to herself wasn’t helping either of them, so she quietly placed her fork down and leaned in to touch Fitz’s arm. “Are you feeling better?” she asked rather hesitantly.

Fitz hummed without meeting her eyes as he continued to devour his slice of pie. “Yeah, I was bloody starving and this is probably the most edible meal I’ve had in a while.”

Jemma bit her bottom lip. “No, I mean…”

When he looked up, she could tell he understood her meaning as his face fell just slightly. “Oh,” he uttered quietly.  

Shaking her head, she pulled back her hand. “I’m sorry. It’s your birthday. We don’t have to talk about—”

“No, it’s okay.” Shrugging his shoulders, he gave her a slight smile. “It’s probably a better time than any, to be honest.”

“Okay.”

Before continuing, he scooted his chair closer to the table so he could lean closer towards her. “I am feeling better. But I won’t lie to you. I still… I still see things that I want to rip from my memory forever. I think for a moment that I’m getting better, and then the next, all I can think about is that place. And what I did.”

“What he did.”

Letting out a single huff, he looked down at his hands. “Right.”

“Fitz, it wasn’t you.”

“I know, I know. I tell myself that every day, but it doesn’t make it any easier.” He took a deep breath before meeting her eyes again. “But I think I’m finally starting to believe it.”

“That’s good,” she said encouragingly as she scooted her own chair a bit closer to his. “And it’s not supposed to be easy. What it…what happened to you was so…I–I can’t even put it into words.”

“You don’t have to.”

Leaning forward, Jemma placed her hand carefully onto his shoulder. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what you’re going through. Only you know that. But you have to know that if there’s anything you need from me, anything at all, you can tell me, okay?”

“I know. I promise.”                                                                            

“You look like you’re feeling a little better. What seems to be helping?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. “And Mack and Daisy. Just everyone, really. They all seem to be getting on okay.”

“Yeah, I think they are.”

“And sometimes realizing that they’re okay makes it a little easier.”

She moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek. “You’re always so hard on yourself. And I think you need to remind yourself of how far you’ve come. Remember when you couldn’t even look at me? Look where you are now.”

“Yeah, I know. I have you to thank for that.”

“It’s not just me, though. I’m proud of you – I hope you know that.”

“I do,” he said softly as he pulled her hand down from his cheek, intertwining their fingers. “And thank you. Not just for this, but for…you know. Everything.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, she shrugged. “What else was I gonna do?”

When she noticed a small glimmer in his eyes, Jemma knew he recognized the familiar words. But before she could get lost in his kind eyes, something seemed to shift behind them – like he had something important on his mind. And then he started laughing.

“What is it?” she asked, perplexed by his sudden change in mood.

Still chuckling lightly, he shook his head. “I’m just calculating how much time I have left to plan your birthday surprise.”

“Oh, really?” No longer able to stay so far away from him in her own chair, Jemma moved to climb into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Fitz welcomed her into his space earnestly and wrapped his arms around her, but managed a glance at his watch. “What is it…21 days and 2 hours now?”

“Well, technically, I was born at 5 a.m., so you have a little bit more time to work with. And it’s not much of a surprise now that I know about it.” As she nuzzled into his neck, she released a content sigh. “But you don’t have to do anything. Just you being here is enough. I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Thank you in advance.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Leaning in at the same moment, their noses brushed gently before they captured each other’s lips in an achingly slow kiss. After a few blissful moments, Jemma pulled back, unable to stifle a chuckle herself.

“What?” Fitz asked,

“You taste like chocolate.”

“Hmm, so do you.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Jemma took a peek at the forgotten pie on the table. As she turned back to Fitz, her face softened. “Would it be absolutely horrible to have another slice?”

“Well, considering we don’t exactly have a place to store it, I reckon we should probably finish it off.”

“Fitz.”

“Wouldn’t want to waste it after all that work.”

“You’re right. But if we get sick, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, and have to spend an entire day in bed? Sounds absolutely miserable.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she teased as she dove back into the center of the pie with her fork. It tasted wonderful before, but now with the knowledge that Fitz was truly finding his way back to himself, it somehow tasted even sweeter.

[florchis]

Y si quieres decir “sí” cada vez que abres la boca,

que te hace muy feliz que sea el día de tu boda. (x)

(And if everytime you open your mouth you wanna say “I do”,

you should be so happy that is your wedding day.)

A Fitzsimmons’s Wedding Aesthetic

Made for @teamengineering‘s Fitz’s Birthday Project - the Fitz Wish List! We’re granting Fitz 30 wishes to celebrate his 30th birthday. For the wish: Marrying Jemma.

[unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot]

A Bit of Home

Written for @teamengineering‘s Fitz’s Birthday Wish List. I’m so sorry it’s so late! Based on the prompt: A visit with his Mum

Takes place pre-season two

Title changed from A Visit Home to A Bit of Home because I realized I had another fic titled A Visit Home

Read on AO3

Fitz sat on the couch in the common room. A single lamp was on, giving him just enough light to see. It was late. Everyone else was in bed. Fitz should be in bed too, but he wasn’t.

Everything was different. Everything had changed. Fitz didn’t like change. They’d turned his old lab on the Bus into a garage without even asking him. Now he had to work in a new lab. With people he didn’t know. Without Simmons. ‘Cause Simmons had left without even asking him.

She’d stayed through his birthday, and then she’d told him she was going away for awhile—to see her parents. Fitz understood why she wanted to see them; but he didn’t understand why she couldn’t—wouldn’t—take him along too. They’d begun visiting each other's families together while they were still going to the Academy. He liked visiting her parents. Nothing ever changed at the Simmons’ house. And Glasgow was a lot closer to Sheffield than it was to America.

Homesickness rushed over him like a tidal wave. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision, and he pressed his arm against his eyes as he began to cry quietly. He wanted to go to Glasgow. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his bedroom that hadn’t changed since he left at 16 because his Mum knew better than to change anything without asking, and he wanted to see the park he’d played at as a child with the climbing frame where he’d spent so many hours pretending he was a monkey. Most of all, though, he wanted to see—

A mug was placed on the coffee table in front of him. Fitz swiped his arm across his eyes and looked up to see May standing next to the couch, holding her own mug.

“I want my mum,” he blurted out, and he didn’t care if he sounded like a child. “Simmons—Simmons went to see her parents; I want to go see my mum.”

“Okay,” was all that May said.

Fitz gaped at her. “Okay?” he echoed, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“Okay,” May repeated. “I’ll make arrangements.”

Fitz picked up the mug, not quite believing that she actually would follow through. May typically meant what she said, but Fitz still didn’t want to get his hopes up only to be disappointed. He took a sip and found that it was tea, exactly as sweet as he preferred. “Thank you.”

Several days later, Fitz was on a plane to Scotland. May came too, which he thought would bother him, but it turned out he didn’t mind the company.

“Too bad we couldn’t use the—the Bus,” he commented not long after takeoff. “We’d get there faster and more—erm—more com—comfor—more—” he stopped, unable to get the word out.

“Yes, the Bus would be more comfortable,” May agreed, “but we can’t use it until we figure out the cloaking.”

Fitz tapped his fingers against the armrest as his insides twisted in a guilty reminder of his failures. “I’ve almost got it. I just—I just need more—more time.” He sighed and dug around in his backpack for his headphones.

~*~*~*~

It had been decided that Mum wouldn’t meet them at the airport for safety reasons. Fitz was rather glad for that because he knew there would be no way to stop from crying as soon as he saw her, and it was less embarrassing to cry in the privacy of his childhood home. Those walls had seen plenty of tears from both of them over the years.

They took a taxi from the airport. Fitz fidgeted in his seat the entire ride, legs bouncing, fingers tapping, eyes looking out all the windows as they passed by familiar and unfamiliar landmarks. There was a Starbucks that hadn’t been there the last time Fitz had visited, and the Chinese restaurant he’d eaten many meals at was closed. His house looked the same, though, so that was a relief. The bushes and trees and flowers had grown. Fitz took a picture to send to Jemma while May got their bags.

The front door opened and his Mum ran out, straight to Fitz. They wrapped their arms around each other, clinging tight, and that’s when the tears came. “Oh, my boy,” his Mum cried, “my beautiful boy!”

“Mum.”

May had them move inside after noticing nosy Mrs. Keller peeking through the curtains from across the street. They went to the kitchen where Fitz’s Mum had tea ready for them along with a plate of Fitz’s favorite chocolate digestives.

“You must be Agent May,” Fitz’s Mum said as she poured the tea. “I’m Ellie; it’s so nice to meet you.” May gave her a small smile as she accepted the cup handed to her.

Neither Fitz nor May were feeling very talkative after their long flight, so Ellie filled the silence, talking about the lives of various friends and neighbors while Fitz ate too many of the biscuits and May listened politely, instinctively filing away any bits of useful information Ellie shared.

“Oh, how I’ve been nattering on,” Ellie said as they finished their tea. “You two must be tired after that long flight. Leopold, you’re in your old bedroom, of course, and Agent May, you’ll be in the guest room. I’ll show you where it is.”

There were pictures lining the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Most were of Fitz as a child; some were of what May assumed were other relatives such as grandparents. May stopped to look more closely at a picture of a young Fitz, probably about 5-years-old, standing in front of a monkey enclosure at a zoo. He wore a somber expression and there was a blur around his chest.

“He was so excited to see the monkeys,” Ellie commented when she saw which picture May was looking at. “I couldn’t get him to stop flapping his hands long enough for me to take a picture.”

May gave her another small smile and they continued on to the guest room.

~*~*~*~

Fitz began taking the tea things to the sink to start washing up while Mum showed May to the guest room. One of the mugs fell from his hand and shattered on the floor. Fitz froze, staring down at the evidence of his damaged, broken body. He couldn’t even do something as simple as washing up, or get his body to move and go find the broom. He just stood there. Staring. How useless was he?

Ellie entered and took in the broken mug, and how Fitz was standing there, not moving. “Did you get stuck, love?” she asked. Fitz didn’t respond. “I’m going to bring you to your bedroom, where your weighted blanket is,” Ellie told him. She took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. Fitz laid down on his bed and she covered him with his weighted blanket. “Is that better?” Fitz still didn’t respond, so she went back to the kitchen to clean up the mug.

~*~*~*~

Fitz blinked, staring up at the ceiling. He was slowly becoming aware of what was happening around him. There was pressure on top of him. That was good. He could hear someone in the kitchen. Mum, probably. He hoped. He wasn’t sure what May would think if she saw him like this. She’d seen him have a meltdown before, but he hadn’t had a shutdown in front of her that he could remember.

He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. He looked around his bedroom, eyes landing on the poster hanging on the wall across from him.  It was a picture of space. His mum had got it for his 15th birthday. I’m gonna take that back to the Playground he decided. Maybe having a bit of home there will make the change easier.

Mum entered with a glass of water, which she placed on the bedside table next to him. “I brought you water,” she said. Fitz brought his fingertips up to his chin to say thank you. Technically he was supposed to move his hand away from his chin too, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Can I stay with you?” Mum asked.

Fitz managed a nod. She sat down on the bed next to him and began running her fingers through his hair.

“Agent Coulson came to see me,” she told him, “after your—” she paused, trying to figure out the right word, “—injury. I wanted to come see you, or have your transferred to one of the hospitals here, but he said it was too dangerous because of the Hydra threat.” She was quiet for a moment, and Fitz closed his eyes, soothed by the feeling of her hand on his head. “I’m thankful you were able to come to me.”

Me too Fitz thought to himself. At some point over the next couple days, Fitz would talk to his mum: tell her about Simmons, and how she’d gone, and how things kept changing around him, and how frustrated he felt all the time. But for the moment, they were quiet. They just existed together in a comfortable, familiar way. They were a mother and her son. He was home.

[ifwehadamonkey]

written for @teamengineering‘s the fitz wish list project. and again, the happiest of birthdays to my son, leo fitz.

wish # 7: Prosciutto and Mozzarella 

“Fitz.”

Fitz looked up from the chem notes he'd been studying. Jemma Simmons, his lab partner of the past year, and the only student at The Academy capable of keeping up with him intellectually, stood in the open doorway of his dorm. She was staring him down with one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Simmons.”

Jemma stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind her with a soft snick. She held a bag in one hand and her phone in the other.

“I can't believe you didn't tell me,” she started to say as she stepped around the small kitchen island separating the kitchen from the living area, “and considering the time of year, this means you were going to let it happen all over again.”

Fitz couldn't see what she was doing over there, but he heard her bag rustling and the ding of silverware hitting glass.

“Let what happen, exactly?”

Jemma stopped what she was doing long enough to hold her phone in the air, shaking it around a few times.

“This is your phone, by the way. Imagine my surprise when it started ringing during my biometrics review and I found it in my coat pocket. I must have picked it up by mistake, but that’s irrelevant, because it was your mum calling. I couldn’t let her worry, so I stepped outside and answered and do you know what her first words were? ‘Happy Birthday, Leopold!’ Imagine my surprise, Fitz.”

At this, Fitz decided to go on the offensive.

“So, it’s my birthday. No sense in getting up in arms about it. I still have to study for chem lab whether it’s the anniversary of my birth or not. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? When I turned 16 last year, you programmed all of the security scanners to say ‘Happy Birthday, Jemma’ whenever I walked through, and we didn’t even like each other back then.”

“What? That was a prank, that’s all. Basically a S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned rite of passage. It didn’t mean anything.”

There was silence throughout the small room, and Fitz thought for a moment he’d gone too far. It’s not that it didn’t mean anything, necessarily. She wasn’t even supposed to have found out that it was him to begin with, but that slimeball of a new recruit, Milton, had taken the first opportunity to tell her all about it. Fitz really despised that guy.

“Be that as it may, we’re friends now, Fitz. You should have told me.”

“Well, now you know. Did my mum say anything else?”

Fitz glanced over his shoulder to find Jemma staring at him strangely, and he honestly couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But then she sighed, turning around to fiddle with the sink.

“She just said to tell you to call her, and that it didn’t matter what time it was.”

Fitz nodded, realized she couldn’t see him, then said, “Okay.”

At the sound of a match striking, Fitz whirled around in his chair.

Jemma stepped around the kitchen island, a plate in her hands. Placed neatly in the center, with a burning candle atop it, sat a sandwich.

“I didn’t have time to bake a cake, but I am rather good at sandwiches. Prosciutto and Buffalo Mozzarella with some of my homemade pesto aioli, just a hint anyways. Happy Birthday, Fitz.”

Fitz had never been taken so far aback in his life. He could only sit there, mouth hanging open rather stupidly, watching that flickering flame.

“Well? Make a wish, Fitz, before there’s wax all over your sandwich.”

Fitz stood up from his desk slowly, and walked to meet her in the middle of the room. His eyes flicked up ever so briefly to meet Jemma’s before he quickly blew the candle out. Through the wafting smoke, he met Jemma’s eyes, unable to stop a crooked grin from forming on his face.

He didn’t tell her about how often he’d wished for the kind of friend he was learning that she could be. He didn’t tell her how often he’d wished to finally meet someone that could understand him here at The Academy. And he most certainly didn’t tell her that he’d just wished for a hundred more birthdays just like this one.

All he said was, “Want to split it with me and study for chem lab?”

Jemma flashed him one of her trademark blinding smiles.

“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll just grab another plate.”

When they settled down on his small twin mattress, cross-legged with knees pressed close, Fitz decided this was the best sandwich, and best birthday, he’d ever had.

[theresalwaysaway]

Forgiveness

Fitz tries to unravel the framework in his mind and make sense of it all. Some ideas inspired by this meta by @agl03. Part of EVB Team Engineering Fitz’s Birthday Project: Fitz’s Wish List 

Wish: Forgiveness

Mack’s bulk barely fits behind the compressor, so he can’t see who has entered the mechanical room without backing out entirely from where he had been working. “Hey Fitz. Something on your mind?”

Fitz’s brow was furrowed as if he were puzzling the nature of the universe. He broke away from his thoughts and asked, “Your religion. Does it help you find forgiveness?”

“We all are granted forgiveness. All you have to do is ask.”

“I’m asking. Do you forgive me?”

“Sit down.” Mack pointed with his wrench to a elevated block of concrete about two feet off the floor. It supported various tanks and electrical panels but still had a few open spots.

Fitz sat, but Mack leaned against a metal ladder leading up to the next level of equipment. “She was a beautiful little girl. I taught her to ride a bike. She’d fall and we’d get up and do it again. In the real world, she was so tiny and helpless. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. Both versions. But it doesn’t bring the same kind of pain anymore. Elena got to meet her. It was my own secret pain for so long and now, it’s good that it’s out. Mostly.”

“Wait...are you saying you’re better off?”

Mack tilted his head. “I could’ve gone to therapy a long time ago, but I didn’t, did I?”

Read the rest on AO3!

[stillnotapepper-blog]

For the prompt

Fitz gets to meet Tony Stark

for the 30 wishes in 30 days event to celebrate Fitz’s birthday!

[the-nerdy-stjarna]

Written for @teamengineering‘s Fitz’s Birthday Project - the Fitz Wish List! We’re granting Fitz 30 wishes to celebrate his 30th birthday.

Wish #4: Starting a family with Jemma

Big thank you to @popsicle86​ for the beta!

Banner by me! [Banner without title viewable here... ‘cause it’s so pretty]

The Perfect Present

[Read below or on Ao3]

Fitz never cared much for his birthday. Maybe it was because he had few friends to celebrate with. Very few, in fact. The fewest.

His birthdays weren’t bad. Far from it. He especially liked the cake. Very much so. It was good cake. His favorite. Every time.

But then again, his mum baked that cake almost every other week. Because it was his favorite and because his mum seemed to have a hard time saying no to Fitz’s request to make one to see if his latest improvements to the oven had decreased the cooking time. Although his mum swore it was his puppy dog eyes that she couldn’t resist.  He didn’t use the power of his puppy eyes very often on her, because after everything they had been through with his Dad he knew she needed his support as much as Fitz needed hers, but when it came to cake, those puppy eyes (and Fitz’s oven experiments) really brought no harm and a bit more light and sugar into their lives.

So, yeah, Fitz liked the cake his mum baked on his birthdays, but the only difference to all those other times she made the exact same cake was a bit of decoration and a candle on top. And what was with candles on birthday cakes anyway? (once the wax started dripping it ruined a piece of perfectly fine cake).

Of course there were also birthday presents. Well, one present usually. His mum couldn’t afford much, so it was usually just one. She always put a lot of thought into what she got him though. But even though she meant so well, and it came from the heart, and she always gave it to him with a big smile that suggested that she was more excited about him opening it then he was, Fitz always felt a tad guilty that his mum felt like she had to spend money because society dictated that this one day of the year was somehow something special just because he’d been born. (Especially as he often still heard his Dad’s voice ringing in his ears about how very not special he was.)

So. Yeah. Fitz never cared much for his birthday.

It wasn’t that he hated it. Not at all. But he didn’t really like it either.

It was a perfectly fine day, and he liked spending it with the people who seemed to care about him (first mainly his Mum, then later Jemma, then later his colleagues at S.H.I.E.L.D.). He didn’t need the fuss. He didn’t need the presents. He didn’t need the… okay, yes, he wanted the cake, but all-in-all, Fitz would have been perfectly happy not celebrating his birthday, not receiving presents, and it would have been just like any other day.

So no, Fitz never cared much for his birthday.

Until their baby decided to arrive seven days early. On Fitz’s birthday.

Fitz held this tiny, squirming, pink human being in his arms while tears streamed down his face, marveling over the fact that somehow the combination of his and Jemma’s DNA had created this little living, breathing, kicking miracle…

And suddenly, the very day that Fitz had thought shouldn’t be considered special just because it was the day his mother had given birth to him, became the most important day of Fitz’s life, because it was the day that Jemma had given birth to their child.

Suddenly Fitz loved his birthday, not because it was his, but because it was theirs.

Not because it was a day to celebrate himself, but because that day became the perfect opportunity to celebrate their child (and shower their baby with love and presents and cake of course).

Jemma teased him when he started planning the first birthday party, down to the tiniest little perfect detail.

She teased him when he bought half the toy shop.

She teased him when he invited everyone they knew.

And yet, her eyes always sparkled with love and adoration at Fitz’s newfound love for birthdays, knowing how much his love for his child had changed him forever (and in the best possible way).

And when Fitz’s Mum came all the way from Scotland for their baby’s first birthday party, with two simple gifts—one for Fitz and one for her grandchild—two gifts that she’d clearly thought long and hard about, Fitz hugged her tighter than he maybe ever had before, because now that he was a parent himself, he now finally understood why his Mum had always made such a fuss about him and his birthday.

[accio-the-force]

#TheFitzWishlist | A @teamengineering project celebrating our favorite engineer’s 30th birthday with 30 wishes in 30 days! 

↳ wish #17- a monkey in the lab 

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ for @teamengineering’s Fitz Wish List, celebrating the birthday of our favourite engineer! This one is for the prompt, “a picture of space”, and looks through this lens at Fitz growing up, from the known past to the near future. It gets a little angsty in the middle but is pretty sappy fluffy either side, so enjoy!

Cosmos is a Greek word for the order of the universe... It implies the deep interconnectedness of all things. It conveys awe for the intricate and subtle way in which the universe is put together. - Carl Sagan.

tw: some canon compatible internalised ableism in part iii

Read on AO3 (~2800wd)

-

Something Magnificent

i –

Despite all the troubles in his household of late, ten-year-old Leo Fitz was still young enough that Christmas was a snow-shrouded wonderland of peace, happiness and joy. In socked feet, he raced across the cold wood floors to the carpeted lounge and dived for the tree, thrilled by mystery, excitement, and the sense of reward that came from tearing the packaging off his gifts.

This particular Christmas, his father was absent, but his mother was side-stepping through a litter of toys to bring them each a cup of hot chocolate. As always, she was there for him – although, today, she pressed her lips closed, her smile disappearing for a moment as Fitz ripped open the biggest package at the back, and cried out in delight.

“Mum!” he yelped, because of course he assumed that she had not yet seen it. “It’s space! Look, look, it’s the Milky Way –“

He stumbled, trying to drag the relatively large frame over toward her. She picked it up to help, and a letter slipped out from where it had been wedged into the back of the frame. Fitz saw it straight away, his eyes caught by the movement, and scooped it up with a curious frown. His mother already knew what it held, but held her tongue as he read out the words.

Dear Leo,

I am sorry to tell you that I was unable to arrange for you to go to Space Camp with the older boys and girls next year. I hope you will accept this picture for your wall as a placeholder and a promise that I will do my best to get it for you next Christmas instead. Also, remember that sometimes things do not always work out how we might want them to, but might come to us in unexpected ways.  

Merry Christmas. Love, Santa.

Fitz frowned down at the page. Sadness and anger flooded through him briefly but he stayed still, letting the tears fill his eyes and repeating to himself that it was important to stay still and not throw things when he was mad. Especially when people meant well. He didn’t want to be ungrateful, even though he was.

His mother pulled Fitz in for a hug, and took the paper from between his fingers so that he’d focus on her instead.

“I’m sorry, love,” she murmured. “How about we go out to the hill this weekend and you can tell me some of the things you know about space?”

“Okay,” Fitz agreed reluctantly.

“This is a nice picture too, isn’t it?” his mother reminded him. “And I know just where to put it. Just by your door there, don’t you think? Then you can always look at it and remember where you want your life to go.”

“I want to go to space,” Fitz declared.

“Do you want to be an astronaut?” his mother asked.

“Hmm.” Fitz pouted thoughtfully. “No.”

Apparently satisfied with that answer, Fitz cast his eyes to the next package, which turned out to be a kit for the assembly of a clockwork spider. Proud and confused – which was a common combination when it came to her son – Fitz’s mother settled for watching him play, and trying to follow along with the instructions while Fitz tipped out the box’s content and raced ahead with the construction, free-hand.

ii –

The dormitory was small, but its paint and bed linen were fresh and it smelled, if a little dusty, like success. Fitz beamed as he set his bag down inside the door. It was nothing special to look at, but he was a poor boy from Scotland with a fistful of the biggest burrito he had ever seen, and an MIT acceptance letter burning a hole in his backpack. He felt more special and more proud than he could remember feeling in his life. And it helped that, as the youngest student here by a good few years, he had this room all to himself.

(It helped even more, the privacy, when the pride faded and he realised that while he’d never made it to Space Camp, the United States felt just as far from home. He and his mother had scraped together every penny they could muster to get him here. There was no going back. There was probably no seeing his mother again either, not before he started earning real money – and who knew how long that would take).

Gangly, baby-faced teenage Fitz curled up on his bed and cried for a while, as all of that sunk in - but then he remembered the picture of space. Blessings in unexpected places. A reminder of where he wanted his life to be going. And now, a piece of home that he could carry with him into the unknown. He took a deep breath, and unfurled to look for it.

His suitcase had been brought in already, by a well-meaning RA. It sat in the corner waiting for him. The picture of space was rolled up in a cardboard container inside, with its frame carefully deconstructed to save space. With love, and meticulous care, Fitz put his precious picture back together and searched for the best place around the room that he could keep it. In the end, since he was not allowed to screw or stick anything to the walls themselves, he settled for propping it on top of a low bookshelf, where he could see it well from the kitchenette if not the bed. He leaned back against the small bench and smiled at it. The room was barely two meters wide, and everything in it was a kettle, a picture of space, two small bags and a small boy, but it was his, and it was him, and here they all were.

“One day,” he said, turning the words over on his tongue and in his mind. “I’m going to go to space.”

It had been a strange, abstract dream of his, ever since he was a kid. Now he was living in the hallowed halls walked by some of the greatest minds the world had ever seen. Maybe he was foreign, maybe he was young, but something about him belonged here. Something about him was taking the first steps to turning his abstraction into a reality. Maybe he wouldn’t go to space after all – he was scared of heights, and was not a fan of high G-forces or terrible food – but maybe he could send a part of himself. A piece of his work: a rocket, or a satellite, or a space station.

The possibilities seemed endless, now that he was on his way.

iii -

“Have you seen – have you seen my – “

Fitz turned this way and that, but most of the others had been taught to ignore him. His hands flapped desperately, stress and exasperation rising and rising at the ceaseless movement and invisible words around him. He tried to gesture what he meant, but a square could mean anything. Where was his – why were they touching his things? Where were they going? Where was space? Space! The picture of space. That’s what it was called. Picture, picture.

“This one?” Skye offered it to him like a treat to distract a dog, but it worked. She was a familiar voice in an unfamiliar sea, and for once, her eyes were keenly focused on him. Bright and shining, hopeful – perhaps a little too hopeful, putting on a show for him - but curse it, it worked. Fitz noticed her body unclench with relief as he took the picture from her, and she led him away from the crowd of technicians and troops, who were marching all of their belongings out of the Bus in endless streams.

Hugging the picture of space to himself as best he could, Fitz whined.

“Why?”

“Well, we live here now,” Skye explained, gesturing around the base. “It would be silly to go all the way in there and back out again every time you wanted to go to your room, wouldn’t it?”

I’m not five, he wanted to remind her, but there were so many more important things. Like why, and why, and why had Jemma left and not taken her things and not said goodbye and not been here to build their lab and fill it how she liked and why did everything hurt? And why, and why, and why?

“Why.”

He whispered it this time, and Skye thought he must mean something that she did not understand. She pursed her lips. Should she move away?

“I’m sorry, Fitz,” she said, hating that neither of them could find the words when they needed them most. “This is how it is now. But it’ll be okay.”

Fitz took a deep breath and looked down at the picture of space. Usually, it brought light to his dark thoughts, expanded his mind, helped him to see his own possibilities. Now all he saw was a fading canvas, purchased years ago by a well-intentioned but under-resourced single mother who had thrown everything she could into making her son’s dreams come true, and he’d wasted that. He’d wasted his possibilities by trusting someone who should not have been trusted, and by going and getting himself blown up, so that his brain stopped working and everyone stopped listening and he’d never get anywhere now. He’d stalled mid-flight and was falling backwards, and there was nothing he, or anyone, could do to stop it.

“Hey, Fitz?” this time, it was genuine concern in Skye’s voice. Real softness, real heart, for the friend she’d once known. “Are you alright? Do you want some help?”

“You can’t help me,” Fitz growled, and before Skye could think of how to react, he stormed off to the room they’d given him, and shoved the canvas into that thin gap between the desk and the wall. Like him, it was worthless now. A faded, battered, hollow version of itself. It deserved to go unseen, unheard, and as far as he was concerned, it could rot in the dust and darkness forever.

iv -

Fortunately, the cosmos had other plans for Fitz and his picture of space. He found new friends, and a new sense of self. A new set of possibilities. He was different now, and didn’t want all of the same things he once had, but not because he felt like he didn’t deserve them. He simply had to accept how much he’d changed now, not just since the Pod, but over the course of his whole life. His eyes were not set to the stars anymore but rather, on the things that rained down from said stars every day. He wanted to help – people, Shield, the planet, the world - space or no. And so the picture became, to him, a symbol of the expansion of the mind. Of discovery. Of aspiration. He pulled it out of hiding and it presided over the steps he took toward other dreams in his life.

Like toward Jemma.

She’d always liked space, even more than he had. She’d continued with stargazing and constellation studies into adulthood, and still kept up with news from NASA and the Bureau of Meteorology in what spare time she had. She’d even had a go at studying solar and stellar patterns on Maveth and that, Fitz thought, was dedication. Plus, he still liked to think of her as a light in the darkness of his life. Perhaps not his only light – that he’d had to realise the hard way – but a light nonetheless; radiant and inspirational and breathtaking. She was his star.

(Funny, he thought, the way these things lined up.)

And they’d sat before the picture of space any number of times before. It had hung above the television in their shared flat during their Academy years. It had been propped up in a bookshelf on the Bus that had become filled with mementos of Peru and Beijing and Manila and them, them, them expanding their horizons together, just as Jemma had promised. It had been hidden when she had gone, and it had risen again in time for her return, and now it shone its wisdom and blessings down upon them and Fitz bumbled over the many ways he’d failed to tell her how he’d felt, and she kissed him. She kissed him with a smile on her lips, and a promise in her hands and her eyes and her heart, that this time she was here to stay. That here, now, this was their best first kiss. Their real first kiss. The start of something.

(“Though I suppose you have been to space now after all, haven’t you?” Jemma pointed out not long after this, and elbowed Fitz playfully. Fitz frowned at the fading canvas, as if studying it carefully, and then turned a sappy smile on Jemma.

“Didn’t do much for me, to be honest,” he replied. “I’ve got everything I need right here on the ground.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, but for the rest of the night they worked with their hands linked together under the sheets of the bed they shared).

v –

“… Happy Birthday to you!”  

Obligingly, Fitz leaned forward and blew out the candles. The audience applauded and snapped their pictures, and cheered; Happy Birthday-slash-housewarming! But it was Jemma who stepped up for the first gift-giving.

Her parcel was long and tall and laid flat, and Fitz frowned at it curiously. Today was not Fitz’s actual birthday; that day, Jemma had already blocked out with him to go somewhere special. Anywhere away from here, he’d assumed. He hadn’t been expecting a second gift from her, especially not with the costs of moving on their minds (and wallets). Perhaps it was a gag gift? If so, the mature plain-silver wrapping was a little misleading.

The sound of Elena’s huff of amused frustration alerted Fitz to the fact that he was taking his sweet time to open the present. He smiled at her and Mack, and ripped the paper obligingly, and then his jaw dropped at the beauty of the picture frame beneath. It was not a gag gift at all, but a wedding photo. Was it one of the professionals? He couldn’t remember having it taken, but it certainly looked the part.

It was a beach scene. At night; calm dark water reflected the stars above and around them. Two figures sat on the end of a jetty, their feet dangling over the edge, looking out over the ocean: one being himself, and the other Jemma, in her wedding dress, leaning against him as the long day and the chill of the evening sunk in. They’d been eating chips, if he remembered correctly.

“Okay everybody, party’s over,” Daisy declared, choking up a little. “Jemma wins the gift game, thanks for your entries but it looks like we can all go home.”

“No, no,” Fitz shook his head, and wiped his eyes just in case he had teared up too. “It’s beautiful Jemma. I love you.”

“I thought it was a bit of a risk,” she confessed. “I thought it could hang above the mantle or… maybe by the dresser? But I didn’t want you to think I was trying to replace… “

He shook his head again. “Jemma, it’s perfect.”

For a moment, everyone in the room disappeared but the two of them. They kissed; a soft and sweet and lingering kiss that made the world seem to spin around them. When they parted, it was to smiles and admiration, and even tears in the eyes of a few onlookers. Coulson raised his glass of champagne in a toast to them.

“I couldn’t be prouder of these two,” he declared. “And I couldn’t be happier that through all that they have endured, these fine young agents came out the other side to be here today. So even though the Daisy in me is telling me to say ‘get a room’, I’m reminded that well… they have, and that’s why we’re here. So, happy birthday-slash-housewarming, FitzSimmonses, and – hey, I couldn’t get the moon to shine just right on a Kodak moment, but I did get you one of those fancy blender things, and hopefully that’s pretty close.”

He gestured to a large, irregularly-shaped contraption that was very conspicuously wrapped, and Fitz and Simmons laughed along with the crowd. The gifts that came down the line after that were somewhat more mundane, but they received each with joy and gratitude. Just like the original picture of space, Fitz thought, Jemma’s represented a galaxy of love and commitment and opportunities in his life that was only possible because of everybody who was here today. Though a humble toaster and a spanner and an iron didn’t seem like much on their own, his friends were helping him build a life with a woman he loved, and really, he couldn’t have dreamt of anything better.

[lizimajig]

My entry for the Birthday Wish Challenge as part of @teamengineering, with my apologies and compliments. The original prompt was “the cottage in Perthshire” but it sort of became an amalgam of a few different prompts.  They Say It’s Your Birthday (Read on Ao3) --- Fitz had never been a morning person. It was just not a thing that happened. Even though society dictated that he be a functioning adult at an absurd hour, it doesn't mean he had to like it, or do it unaided. Coffee and caffeinated tea were not options, they were necessities. He had never been a morning person, but having children had trained him to be able to pull himself into wakefulness at a moment's notice.  Like when he heard what sounded like a pan crashing onto the kitchen floor. His eyes flew open, he started, and his heart was beating just a little bit faster. Jemma also started awake, her head lifting from his chest. She seemed to have slowed, taking just an extra minute to come around to full consciousness. "Maisie remembers she's not to use the stove, right?" Jemma sighed and blinked heavily. She didn't answer right away, and in fact looked as though she might not remember. "Yes?" she guessed.  "… Right, I'll go check, shall I?"  "No, no." She stopped him from sitting up, then leans down to kiss him on the mouth. "Go back to sleep. 40-year-olds need all the rest they can get."  He smirked, and turned over as Jemma pushed herself up. She was probably expecting some indignant remark in return, but he certainly wasn't going to argue when the opportunity for a little more shut eye was handed to him. Continue on Ao3

[inevitablefan-ne-girl]

Written for @teamengineering‘s The Fitz Wish List to celebrate Leo Fitz’s 30th birthday! Also fulfills @thefitzsimmonsnetwork‘s Fanwork Friday Prompt “Surprise”.

~2600 words (Title from Fall Out Boy’s “Immortals”) Set post-canon.

Wish #3: A Visit to Their Original Chem Lab ~ Read Below or on AO3!

When Jemma got the news, she knew exactly where she needed to tell Fitz her little secret. What better place to tell Fitz about the next chapter of their lives than the place where it- where they- truly began.

Jemma wasn’t even sure the exact condition of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Science and Technology in light of the events of the past several years. But, after a few phone calls, and not to mention her pull as a very prominent past-student, Jemma was given permission to bring Fitz to the Academy in the late dusk of a cool August evening. The halls were deserted, with not a single student or professor in sight, but everything seemed to be exactly as Jemma remembered it.

As she led Fitz down the quiet Academy hallway, she could tell that even though he was blindfolded to keep their destination a secret, he knew exactly where they were. As soon as they had entered the Academy, Fitz’s grip on her hand had tightened, his fingers wrapping more securely around her own and the cool metal of his wedding band pressing into her palm. Even without seeing it in front of him, the building was so familiar to the both of them that he knew exactly where he was based on smell and sound alone.

The entire way to the Academy, Fitz had whined about how it wasn’t fair to keep where they were going such a secret. He had even used the Jemma, you’re my best friend-not to mention my wife- don’t we tell each other everything card. But, Jemma was determined to keep it a surprise for him. She had merely smirked, rolled her eyes, and told him to sit back, keep his mouth shut, and my goodness, if you would just learn to be patient for once in your life, Fitz, we will be there soon.

When she handed him the blindfold, he had looked at her questioningly, but eventually acquiesced and permitted her to tie it around his eyes. But once they arrived, and he realized where she was taking him, he had finally shut his mouth and allowed her to lead him through the familiar halls.

Once Jemma reached her destination, she slowed her steps and turned to Fitz. Reaching forward, she tugged off his blindfold.

“Surprise” she whispered, as he blinked a few times while his eyes adjusted to the light.

Once he registered just exactly where they were standing, a smile widened on his face.

“You brought us to our old Chem lab?” he asked, smiling at her as she could see the memories flooding back into his eyes.

“Mm-hmm.” Jemma grinned back. “I thought it would be special to see where our story began.”

“Jemma, this is so great,” Fitz responded with a smile. “I’ve been hoping we could come back here someday. See the ol’ place once more. Thank you.” He leaned forward, about to kiss her, before he suddenly straightened back up and quirked an eyebrow. “Are we allowed to be in here? Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes, Fitz, I’m positive,” Jemma answered, an eyeroll accompanying her giggle. “I got all the necessary permission. Do you think that I- Jemma Simmons- would break a rule? And at the Academy of all places?” Jemma said, a smile forming on her lips, and her hand coming up to her chest in a gesture of mock offense.

“Okay, you’re right. I know you would never break a rule.” Fitz responded sarcastically. But, then his face became serious, his eyes staring deeply into hers. “Thank you, Jemma.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Jemma leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Fitz’s lips. “Shall we go in?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Fitz smiled and reached down to grab her hand again as Jemma turned the knob and opened the door to the first year Chemistry lab.

Alright, everyone. Quiet down, quiet down. If everyone could gather around, it’s time to announce who our lab teams will be for this semester. Now, before I begin I would just like to say a couple things about the team pairings. First, the partner that you are assigned will be your lab partner. No amount of begging to switch pairs will be tolerated. In fact, it will be greatly frowned upon. Second, I suggest that you come to realize that your new lab partner will be your greatest ally for the rest of this year at the Academy. You need to learn to trust your partner, to work well with them. This person that you are paired with will help you to either succeed or to fail during this first year. But, remember, you will not be guaranteed to get along with your lab partner. In fact, most people walk away from this semester being glad to be done working with their partner. However, I wish you all well, and- if you are lucky- you might just find a new friend in your lab partner. Now, I will read each lab pairing and team number. Once called, you will find your partner and make your way to your numbered lab bench. Okay, let’s begin.

Team 1. Carter Andrews and Tiffany Sloane.

Team 2. Matthew Prescott and Sarah Williams.

Team 3. Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons.

Team 4….

Stepping slowly through the lab door, everything was almost exactly as Fitz remembered it. Looking around, he saw the rows of numbered lab benches, clustered in groups of two, stretching back to the far end of the room. Each pair of benches was separated by a small sink, with separate faucets for hot water, cold water, and deionized water. Spread around on each of the benches were a couple of laboratory instruments- a burette, a hot plate, a Bunsen burner, and a separatory funnel. On one side of the room, three hoods were positioned, a couple of larger lab instruments contained in them. And, at the very front of the room, sat the spectrometers and the computers.

“Wow, it’s exactly as I remember it,” Fitz breathed, leading Jemma around the front of the familiar room in awe.

“I know. It really is, isn’t it?” Jemma responded, squeezing Fitz’s hand.

Together, they walked over to the bench labelled “Team 3” that was positioned in the front corner of the room.

“Our old lab bench,” said Fitz.

“Hey, look at that! The burn mark from when you placed that Erlenmeyer down on the lab bench- after I told you it still needed to cool- is still there. Isn’t that ironic?” Jemma laughed, pointing out a circular ring of discolor on the shiny bench top.

“Ha-ha, Simmons. Yes, everyone knows you were always right about everything, even as a freshman.” Fitz responded sarcastically, his eyes lighting up with a smile.

“Well, hey, I guess this means that you really left your mark here at the Academy, huh, Fitz?” Jemma questioned, another laugh filling the quietness of the lab as she leaned into his arm.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” That first memory launched them both into a string of Do you remembers? causing them to laugh so hard that by the end they were nearly gasping for air, leaning forward on the familiar lab bench.

“Do you remember the time that we could not get our solution to come to boil, so we had to switch out hot plates four different times? Then, we were almost late for Professor Vaughan’s first test, so we had to run just to get to class in time? Still aced that test though.”

“Do you remember when Sally Weber dropped that $200 piece of glassware? She was okay, but her face… Oh, it turned bright red, she was so mortified. The poor girl. Then she had to walk up to the lab supply room and pay for it out of pocket.”

“Do you remember when Andrews played that prank on us- he always was one for pranks. He switched out our chemical for Sodium Hydrogen Carbonate, which caused that giant foam explosion. Man, that was horrible. We would have been in so much trouble if we hadn’t of already proved ourselves as two of the best students in the class, which was a good thing because that foam made a terrible mess over the whole lab.”

“You are right, though. We proved that we were a great partnership from the start.”

Cadet Fitz. Cadet Simmons. I called you both into my office today because I wanted to say how impressed I have been with your work over these past two weeks. Every assignment and experiment that you have completed has been exemplary. Kudos to you both for your excellent work.

Thank you so much, sir.

Yes, thank you, sir. We have enjoyed working together so far.

Well, I best advise you to keep it up. Have a good day, Cadet Fitz and Cadet Simmons.

Good day, sir.

Good job, Fitz. It’s been great working with you so far in the lab.

Good job to you as well, Simmons. We work well together.

That we do. Hey, what do you say if we carry over this partnership to some of our other classes. We could work on our Chemical Kinetics project together too. Professor Hall did say that we could work with a partner.

I think that would be a great idea, Simmons.

Good! Let’s head back to the library and start brainstorming. I’m sure that together we can come up with something magnificent.

Becoming serious, Fitz stated with a shake of his head, “It’s amazing to think that this is where our partnership started. I mean, if it wasn’t for this room- this lab class- we might not have been ‘FitzSimmons’. We could have just been Fitz and Simmons.”

“That’s a horrible thing to think about isn’t it? To never have found each other here at the Academy? To never have found each other at all?” Jemma responded, a frown on her face.

“It sure is,” Fitz said, as he pulled Jemma into his side and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m thankful every day that we found each other and became a team.”

And so, sir, we have determined that based on the IR spectrum and the mass spec of this sample that the unknown molecule that we were given is riboflavin.

And, you, Cadet Simmons? Do you agree with Cadet Fitz’s analysis?

Of course, sir. We performed both tests together and we both agree with the conclusion that we have given you.

Excellent work, you two, as always. You both correctly identified the molecule, and in record time. I’ve never seen a lab team work as quickly and as efficiently together as you two do.  It takes most teams the entire lab period to complete this experiment, and you have done it in almost a quarter of the time. Great work, Fitz and Simmons. You know, a lab partnership as effortless and cohesive as yours needs to have a name that reflects that natural unity. What do you say, FitzSimmons?

As they both grew serious, Jemma decided that now was as good a time as any to let Fitz in on her little secret.

“Hey, Fitz?”

“Hmmm?” Fitz responded, his fingers drawing light circles on her shoulder, where she was nestled under the crook of his arm. His eyes still had that far-off look as though he was still lost in a sea of memories.

“Do you ever think about taking over the Academy? Maybe running it together, as directors?” Jemma asked. This was something that shortly after their engagement, they had talked about- a possible way that they could still be closely involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. without the daily worry that their lives would be threatened by a randomly liquifying rock or a psychopathic robot.

Her question seemed to have gotten his attention, as he quickly turned his head down to meet her eyes, his eyebrows quirking up questioningly.

“Ummm, yeah, sure. I’ve thought about it a couple times.” Fitz said. “I mean, who’s to say that we can’t start up a new Academy in Scotland? Once we settle down, move to Perthshire- maybe even start a family- we could consider it more.”

“Start a family?” Jemma questioned, trying to keep her face neutral, not wanting her excitement about where his train of thought was taking him to be evident on her face.

“Yeah, start a family.” Fitz smiled, his eyes looking steadily into hers. “You know maybe in a couple years- two, maybe three years.”

“What about in,” Jemma breathed, unable to keep a smile from forming on her face, “thirty-five weeks?”

Fitz’s eyes immediately widened, his mouth opening slightly in shock. Jemma could see the wheels turning in his brain, the realization dawning on his face. After a few moments of stunned silence, Fitz replied, “Wait. Jemma, are you saying…”

“I’m saying, Fitz, that you and I are going to be parents.” Jemma said, a wide smile filling her features.

As her words sank in, Jemma watched Fitz’s face light up, his smile growing to match hers. “Really?” he questioned.

“Yes, Fitz, really,” Jemma responded, rolling her eyes fondly. “I just took the test this morning. And, then just to be sure, I even ran a blood test on myself in the lab while you were meeting with Coulson. I wanted to be positive before I surprised you.” Jemma responded, unable to keep her giddy smile from her face. “So, surprise!”

Fitz responded by chuckling lightly and pulling her tighter against him as she could practically feel him smiling against her forehead. They stood like that for a few minutes and when Jemma pulled away to meet Fitz’s eyes, she could see that they were slightly misty. She could tell he was excited, but also slightly nervous. In the past couple of months, they had talked together many times about becoming parents and she knew that Fitz had some doubts about becoming a father- especially considering his own childhood. But, Jemma did not have a single doubt in her mind that Fitz would do everything in his power to love and protect this little baby that they had been given. Just like he had always done everything in his power to love and protect her.

“Fitz, you are going to be the most amazing father. There is no one else that I would even think about doing this with. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jemma. And, I am nervous about being a dad, but, you know, as long as I’ve got you by my side, I think I can do just about anything. I mean, look where we are standing, Jemma. It’s here where it all started. And, I couldn’t be more grateful for those memories or for the memories that we are bound to make in the future with this little one,” Fitz smiled, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears as they flicked down to her still flat stomach. Jemma could see an overpowering amount of love in his eyes- love both for her and for their unborn child. The sight of it nearly made her heart burst in her chest.  

Fitz leaned down to kiss her then. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers, their smiles lighting up both of their faces. The love for each other and for their baby shining in their eyes. They stood in the dimly lit Chemistry lab for several moments after that, swaying against each other as they whispered hopes and plans for their life ahead of them. And there- amidst the memories of their first partnership, the very beginnings of their friendship- their dreams for their future began to unfold.

[teamengineering]

hey, bugs! how is everyone? we’re gonna do things a little differently this week and add in a roll call to the wrap-up. we want to make sure everyone is getting these updates and reminders, especially since we have our first event coming up this week.

@ifwehadamonkey * @mrsdecaestecker * @accio-the-force * @agentlukaofshield * @agl03 * @cardb0rdeaux * @dilkirani * @doteleven * @eclecticmuses * @english-fitz * @fitzsimmonsforlife * @fitzsimmonsftw * @florchis * @for-within-the-hollow-crown * @idecaesteckers * @inevitablefan-ne-girl * @itsavolcano * @jemmablossom * @jemannesimms * @jewishfitz * @leggypeggys * @leopoldfitzsimmons * @leopoldjamesfitzs * @memorizingthedigitsofpi * @plentyofmalk * @popsicle86 * @reymanova * @shes-an-oddbird * @stillnotapepper * @finns-roses * @superirishbreakfasttea * @tashonix * @the-nerdy-stjarna * @theboyfallsfromthesky * @theclaravoyant * @thedaisyjohnsons * @theresalwaysaway * @unbreakablejemmasimmons * @unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot * @whatlighttasteslike * @youdovethroughaholeintheuniverse

is that everyone? are we all here? great, now keep reading for important news and updates :)

This week’s masterpost has been released, and as usual, if there are any missing links or works, please message us and we’ll get that taken care of.

MASTERPOST WEEK 5

MASTERPOST WEEK 4

MASTERPOST WEEK 3

MASTERPOST WEEK 2

MASTERPOST WEEK 1

TEAM SPREADSHEET: please make sure that you are logging in both your points and a link to your work when filling in the spreadsheet. weeks 2 and on have been pulled directly from the #engineering vs biochem tag, so please make sure you’re tagging appropriately as well so your work can be included.

we also want to be careful that our posts are following the guidelines set up in the EvB point system, as for what counts and what doesn’t. remember, this is a fitzsimmons-centric challenge and they must be the focal point, either together or separately. the point system breaks it down like this:

The following will receive points:

Romantic FS content

Gen FS content

Content focused on Fitz

Content focused on Jemma

Content with Elizabeth Henstridge and/or Iain De Caestecker (Note: this applies to photoshoots, social media edits and AoS related content. Works for their other projects, e.g. The Fades for Iain, won’t count!)

The following will NOT receive points:

Anti-FS content (duh!)

Content with FS as the background (e.g. a fic focused on Daisy where Fitz and/or Simmons appear for a tiny scene)

Romantic content focusing on Fitz and/or Simmons with someone else! (Obviously, if it’s part of a work where Fitz and Simmons get together in the end, that’s fine. But if it’s just a romantic Jemma x Ward gifset, that will not count.)

TEAM CHATS: after monitoring the participation for our chats, i’ve decided to change the chat day to ONLY FRIDAYS. in the interests of simplicity, and to make it easier to remember, we’ll be having our team chats on fridays only, at 3pm and 9pm EST. the link is here or it can be found on the @teamengineering home page.

TFSN is still taking a small break until Maggie can catch up, so there is no new fanwork friday prompt, although if you haven’t yet fulfilled one of the prompts, there are no time limits and you can still participate at any time. for those of you who don’t know, maggie is recovering from a concussion, so if everyone could reach out and send her some love and virtual hugs, that would be the bees knees :)

THE FITZ WISH LIST: we kicked off our first team event last week, one i hope everyone will enjoy and have fun with. you can find all of the information here, although i realized i forgot to give you guys a hashtag to use with the event, which begins this saturday, on august 19th. once posting starts, tag all of your works with #thefitzwishlist. can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with! and just as a reminder, team members can do multiple prompts, especially since we lack all 30 wishes/days. come on, this is for fitz! our very own little lion man! let’s give him the 30th birthday he deserves.

as always, if anyone has any questions, please feel free to send in an ask.

#Team Engineering, Biatch!

[ao3feed-fitzsimmons]

speak: they're only words

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2vURNkM

by dilkirani

Written for Team Engineering's Fitz's wishlist birthday project. Prompt: “having the courage to talk to Jemma for the first time” In two parts, at the Academy and after the Framework.

Words: 1681, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons

Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons

Additional Tags: Academy Era, also post-framework, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, teamengineering, thefitzwishlist

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2vURNkM

[the-nerdy-stjarna]

Written for @teamengineering‘s Fitz’s Birthday Project - the Fitz Wish List! We’re granting Fitz 30 wishes to celebrate his 30th birthday.

Wish #14: Spend it with Jemma (Academy Era)

Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta!

Banner by me!

see (not), hear (not), speak (not)

[2500w]

Sneak Peek:

It had been almost one year at the Academy, and Fitz sometimes still couldn’t quite believe how quickly time had passed and how much his life had changed. He’d barely turned seventeen when the academic year had started last year, clearly one of the youngest students. He’d celebrated his birthday in Scotland with his mum, then flew to the States days later to attend the orientation for new cadets.

This year, school had started slightly earlier, so Fitz was now faced with celebrating his birthday in the States. He didn’t really care. He’d never much cared for birthdays anyways.

Cake. Yes. Birthdays. Oh well.

But his mum had been disappointed she wouldn’t be able to celebrate with him and worried that he’d be by himself. To top things off, his present hadn’t fit in his already overstuffed suitcase, so they’d agreed that his mum would send it right after he left for the airport. She’d called him every day for a week asking if the package had finally arrived (it hadn’t), and to remind him that he should be sure to ask his friends to celebrate his birthday with him (he only had one friend really and he hadn’t asked her… yet).