AN: I've never done one of these 5+1 fics before and I thought I'd give it a go and with AoS FINALLY *sends a cheering parade down the street* airing in the UK I thought I'd post another FitzSimmons fic (though my feels about this season's FitzSimmons storyline have been DESTROYED ALREADY *shakes fist* DARN YOU, WHEDONS!).
Ahem. So anyway, here is Part 1 of my first ever 5+1 fic; I plan on adding another Chapter that will be from Simmons' POV and what she does/doesn't know when it comes to Fitz :) Enjoy!
The first time Fitz met Simmons, he knew everything about her in a heartbeat.
He could tell that she dressed to impress, but not in the way most girls did; Simmons wore clothes that suggested her intelligence, which told him that she cared about what people thought of her but only when it came to the things that truly mattered.
He could tell that she had people she cared about from the locket hanging around her neck that she twiddled with when she was nervous or under pressure and the ring on the third finger of her left hand (the hand she used less often so that the ring would be safer) with the engraving that he couldn't quite read.
He could tell she was smart and outgoing from the way her first words to him were criticising his methods and telling him that he'd be much better off doing it this way instead of that way. He could also tell that she was from England because, in a country full of American people, you could pick out an English accent from ten miles away.
All things considered, Fitz knew that Jemma Simmons was probably an alright kind of person.
He also knew that he despised her because what she was saying about his methods was completely right and if there was one thing Leo Fitz hated in life it was someone criticising his methods.
When Fitz and Simmons became friends, he knew they would be friends for life.
Maybe it was the way she finished his sentences or how she always knew what to do when he was having a crisis (be it making him a cup of tea, suggesting an alternative method – which she had done even before they were friends so she evidently wasn't going to stop any time soon – or simply encouraging him to persevere). Maybe it was the way she had bizarre ideas that actually had potential making them a lot less like 'bizarre' and a lot more like 'an unorthodox use of initiative'.
Maybe it was the way he felt like he needed her. When he achieved something, she was the first person he wanted to share the news with. When he was upset, she was the one who could comfort him (usually because she knew the passcode for his door when no one else could get past the lock but that was a different point entirely). When he was angry, she was the one who would talk him around to looking at things rationally.
Maybe it was because he felt whole when she was with him. He knew, as did everyone else, that FitzSimmons just worked.
When Simmons suggested going into the field after their third year at SciOps, Fitz knew it would be a bad idea.
The labs were safe. The labs were controlled. Good things happened in the labs. Why on Earth she wanted to leave was beyond him but at the same time he knew that if she left, he would follow but it would still be an incredibly bad idea.
Lo and behold, he was proved right within the first two weeks, being provided with the experience of being held at knifepoint by a Peruvian soldier to aid his case that going into the field was a death wish in the future. And then again, not two months later, when Simmons herself had been literally on the brink of death (be it from Chitauri virus or from jumping out the bloody plane, either would work as evidence in his favour); Fitz would never forget that feeling of complete and utter despair that managed to settle in his stomach as he watched her topple from the edge of the ramp, nor the feeling of helplessness as he waited to hear if Ward had saved her.
Going into the field was literally like walking into their deaths with open arms as far as he was concerned, but Simmons refused to see it that way.
Fitz knew it was 'the most perfect opportunity' to see the world; it was the security of their lives that he was doubting.
Fitz always knew where Simmons would be.
If she was upset she'd be curled up in her bunk, wrapped in the patchwork blanket her grandmother had made for her when she was a toddler, with a cup of tea in one hand and an early 20th century novel in the other. Almost any other time, she could be found with him, which was probably why he had become quite so good at knowing where she was when she wasn't with him.
So when they landed somewhere in California on their way back from picking her and Ward out of the Atlantic Ocean and Simmons disappeared, Fitz appeared to be the only one who wasn't panicking. Coulson was talking about getting people in helicopters out looking for her, Skye had already set up two laptops and a tablet and was searching the internet, Ward was pacing whilst loading, unloading and reloading his gun, and May was... well, May was nowhere to be seen, as usual.
When Fitz told them that she'd gone for a run because she needed to clear her head they'd all frozen and looked at him like he was mad because obviously she'd been through a traumatic experience and there were going to be consequences and she was probably out of her mind and suffering from PTSD (which was possible, of course, but Fitz knew Simmons! Did they not see how unlikely that scenario was?). He'd simply rolled his eyes in response to their panicking and asked if they'd expected her to aggressively solve a math problem to vent her pent up energy instead.
Fitz knew that Simmons was as far from suicidal as she was from being stupid; in fact, she was possessed by a kind of intense vitality that led to her trying her absolute hardest to live every day to its fullest. Fitz also knew that she wasn't one to run away from her problems (well... she was running, but not away from anything).
So when Simmons returned an hour later, Fitz had simply looked smug as the rest of the team let out a collective sigh of relief and went back to their previous activities.
Fitz knew that the only time the team needed to be worried was when he didn't know where Simmons was.
Most of the time, Fitz knew exactly what Simmons needed.
There was one occasion whilst they were at the Academy when she hadn't turned up to their chemistry class (they'd been partnered together six weeks previously and he'd had to admit by that point that she was good at the subject when he was considerably not-as-good). Their entire lesson had been based on partner work so the professor sent him off with some other work and told him that he and Simmons would have to catch up.
He'd been thoroughly annoyed at his friend (she knew how much he hated being behind...) and had stormed to her room and knocked loudly. He'd heard shuffling on the other side before a bleary-eyed Simmons appeared in the doorway. Her nose was bright red and her voice croaky as she asked him to please talk quietly because her head was protesting anything louder than three decibels (he hadn't bothered to correct her that her voice was already well over three decibels so that really just defeated the object).
His annoyance had dissipated immediately and he ushered her back into her room, closing the door as quietly as he could behind him. He made sure she was tucked in bed before going to her kettle and setting it to boil, making her a cup of tea and then some toast. His mother had always told him that nothing was better for curing the flu than a good cup of tea and some hot buttered toast. He'd been ill too many times in his childhood to start doubting her methods.
Simmons had looked up at him with an undeniable amount of gratitude when he passed her the mug and the plate he'd prepared. Her voice was barely audible as she thanked him, even though the entire building was silent with everyone else in classes. He'd just smiled and told her it was nothing, sitting down on the bed next to her (carefully, mind; it wouldn't do to spill her tea) and reaching for his laptop from his bag.
Fitz knew that what Simmons really needed was comfort food, tea, company and classic Doctor Who episodes. They spent the rest of the afternoon marathon-ing the adventures of the fourth Doctor, getting through several cups of tea and almost an entire loaf of bread between them.
From that day onwards, whenever she was sick, Simmons would appear at Fitz's door. More often than not, Fitz would end up catching whatever Simmons had and they were just sick together, Simmons apologising for infecting him every time (for some reason, she was always the one who got sick first).
Fitz knew he'd never accept her apology because, in his opinion, she had nothing to be sorry for.
Fitz knew it was ironic that the one thing he needed to know about Jemma Simmons was the one thing he didn't know.
He wasn't sure when it hit him (but of course he was sure, it was when she'd returned to the plane after Ward had caught her, her hair still damp and her normally impeccable appearance slightly dishevelled from her impromptu swim in the ocean. It was when she'd kissed him on the cheek and called him a hero. It was that exact moment when she left him alone and he'd wished he'd said something more). One minute she was Jemma Simmons and she was his best friend, his partner, the smartest woman he knew.
The next minute she was Jemma Simmons and she was so much more.
He knew that she loved him but he also knew that if asked she'd always finish the phrase 'I love Leo Fitz' with 'as a friend' or something similar. He knew that, for the most part, that was enough. He didn't need to have a relationship, he didn't need her to hold his hand and kiss him, he didn't need to wake up lying next to her every morning (though he wanted it, so badly, so close to needing it but not quite there because he had to consider her feelings as well. It was fine to want what you can't have but there was no point in needing something that you'll never acquire).
And there laid the problem. Leo Fitz didn't know what Simmons felt for him. He didn't know if his love for her was, or would ever be, returned. He didn't know if he would ever be able to allow himself the privilege of needing Jemma Simmons.
He needed to know. He just didn't know how to ask.
Ta-da! I hope you enjoyed the first part of this fic and I will (hopefully) be posting Part 2 soon, so long as my college work doesn't drown me before then! Reviews are my life, follows and favourites are like the stars in my universe (pretty and sparkly ^-^) and I thank you ever so much for reading! :)