A/N: Too short to be one shots, too long to be drabbles. But either way, everyone needs a little more Fitzsimmons. So that's why there's this. Enjoy, and also I own nothing.
He's been acting strange ever since this morning and all throughout the day and every time she tries to ask him about it, he brushes it off and says he's fine. But he's not fine. She knows him like the back of her hand and he is definitely not fine.
So she decides to approach him again, telling herself that if he still refuses to confess, this will be the final time she asks.
She finds him in the kitchen area. He's got a mug of tea next to him, but he's toying with one of his newest inventions which is still in the early, simple stages of design. He's assembling it and then taking it apart. She watches him do this twice before she finally says something.
"It's unhealthy to distract yourself. If something's wrong-"
"Nothing's wrong. I'm all right."
"Fitz, you can't expect me to believe that. It's half past midnight and you're still awake. Are you having trouble sleeping?"
This seems to provoke a feeling of uneasiness from him because he drops the pin and the gear he's been holding in his hand. He pauses for a moment, staring intensely at the top of the counter.
"I have to tell you something," he says, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "It's completely ridiculous and it really doesn't even matter because technically it's not real, but it felt real and I can't stop thinking about it, so I have to tell you."
"What is it?"
"Dreams are nothing, right? They stem from nothing, they're made of nothing, and they mean nothing, yeah?"
"Actually, dreams come from your subconscious, so in most cases they're a direct representation of how you feel about something," she says. "Why?"
"I had this dream and I was there, but you were there too and maybe it's not a big deal. Maybe it was just all the chocolate I had before bed and I'm over analyzing this, but I can't get it off my mind."
She notices how he's stumbling through words and how he can barely form a sentence and that concerns her because their communication has always been as easy and natural as breathing.
"Well perhaps if you talk about it, you'll be able to overcome it. What was it about?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Of course you can," she says sincerely, giving him a small smile.
His face turns a light shade of pink.
"All right, we were in the lab, going over a blueprint, which that's fine. That's normal and that's not the part that bothered me. But then we started arguing because we were trying to figure out who came up with the best design and then…"
She's waiting for him to keep going, but he never does.
He's blushing furiously. She can tell he's trying to formulate his response into words, but it's not happening. Just when she thinks he's going to wave a hand and tell her to forget it, he stands his ground and takes a deep breath.
"Close your eyes," he says.
She frowns out of pure confusion, but her eyelids flutter shut nonetheless and she waits for him to tell her what happened next because maybe it'll be easier for him to tell her when she's not staring at him and putting him under the spotlight. You know, too much pressure and all that.
But that's not the case at all and she suddenly knows what's going to happen before it even happens. She feels him move closer and his hand gently slides to her neck, which sends shivers through her entire body. But her eyes are still closed which is part of the thrill and her heart is racing because she can't see anything. She knows what he's going to do and now she can feel something; his lips are on hers.
She doesn't know how to react, which is just unacceptable because she's had all the bloody time in the world to think this through while he was leaning in. But her logic shuts down and her instincts kick in and take over, which she's grateful for because this is one thing she's not familiar with. She's not used to instincts and going with her gut. She's used to calculations and formulas. But this isn't science. This is more.
The first thing she does is press her lips the slightest bit more against his because if she didn't do something soon, he'd stop and she's not having that.
But suddenly she falls into this quite easily because it's them and she's so used to that; that connection, that synchronization, that understanding. And suddenly they're kissing, actually kissing. He's even got her pressed against the counter and everything. Her hands slide up his chest and latch onto his collar, pulling him closer to her until she can feel his heart beating against her own chest.
It's definitely the perfect mixture of everything she's been missing in life and she's glad she finally found that because it's probably very good for her sanity. It's something to keep her grounded while she floats through midair.
But then he's pulling away and she wants to bring him back to her and never stop kissing him.
He hasn't moved away from her yet and she can still feel his beating heart and his warm breath on her face and she's curious as to what her instincts will tell her to do if he stays like this within arm's reach of her.
Before she gets the chance to find out, he lets go of her and she looks at him. She wishes she hadn't because his eyes are burning into hers and now all she wants to do is finish what he's started.
"Goodnight, Jemma," he says.
She can't speak. Her voice has fled from her throat and she is unable to say anything, despite how much she wants to.
But after he leaves and goes to his bunk she is surrounded by silence, and the silence allows her brain to function properly again.
"Goodnight," she says quietly and much too delayed by this point.
She's not even sure why she said it; it will most definitely not be a good night because she will probably not be able to sleep now or maybe ever.
A/N: How was it?
Each one is going to be completely unrelated to the next, unless otherwise stated. I also have a list of ideas, but if you have suggestions, I'm ready to listen.
So feel free to review and follow and yeah all that wonderful stuff.
Thanks for reading, lovelies.