Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Jemma, stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry Fitz.” Her amber eyes danced merrily, as she slapped her hand over her mouth. At least that is what Fitz had to assume she was doing, considering. “It’s just so ridiculous.”

“If we didn’t have to resort to all this sneaking around, we wouldn’t be in this bloody vent in the first place.” Fitz grumbled loudly, rattling the thin metal of the vent as he jostled his legs back and forth below. “If Coulson had just stayed in his position--”

Jemma had stopped laughing. “Yes. Well, we know that wasn’t exactly the best idea, considering.”

Fitz sighed. They did not need to have this discussion again, particularly where it didn’t solve anything. And, if he was being fair, Coulson had made some tremendous mis-steps, especially where Daisy was concerned. “If you could just find something to get me down…”

“I’m not really sure that he have anything tall enough in here, Fitz.”

Fitz knocked his forehead against the vent shaft floor. “And of course the step stool would be next door. Do you supposed you could sneak over--”

“And haul a 6 foot step ladder from your room into mine? Not without being spotted,” she muttered. “Or filmed. Either way it would only serve to make both our lives more difficult.”

Fitz was silent, mapping out his room in his mind. He’d had such a clever plan to slowly and strategically place some very low grade explosives that

“I blame myself,” Jemma spoke, clearly starting to pace. “I should have put us both on a highly regimented diet. We’ve been indulging in take out far too often. This never would have happened even two months ago.”

Fitz grimaced. Jemma was probably right, but her idea of a diet was stringent beyond belief and almost entirely unpalatable. He’d rather try out the workout Bobbi had recommended to him almost a year ago, and even that was quite telling.

“Well, there has to be another way.”

Jemma sighed. “I suppose I could call Mack.”

Fitz winced as he wriggled a bit more and only knocked his against the top of the metal sheet. “Yeah. No other choice.”

As Jemma picked up the phone to call, Fitz mulled his options. The problem really was the ridiculously thick brick walls. Considering the era of construction, so much of it half functioned as a bomb shelter. The walls weren’t actually drywall. They were actually brick covered by plaster covered by drywall.

If he still had the Mouse Hole, he could make quick work of it and automatically create a short throw projection to show a door to any other guests that might decide to visit.

Fitz was only vaguely aware of Jemma rustling around the room below, trying to clean house a bit before Mack arrived to help.

The critical problem arose with the Director’s new accountability initiatives, which were many and varied. In cleaning up Shield’s image, the he was demanding absolute transparency, which in turn required a tremendous amount of paperwork and triple lock out protocols. You couldn’t check out a weapon without filing a bloody form.

The new Director was a stickler for rules, which is probably why Jemma looked like such a good fit to provide him with guidance. But regardless of any disagreements they might have on the new Director, there was one thing for which they both were in perfect accord: Section 17 was likely to be back with a vengeance.

Any whiff of lack of propriety in their direction and the Director would probably be inclined to shut down their quite lovely and new well policy of fraternizing behind closed doors. Fitz set his jaw. The damned man could bloody well try.

But for her sake, he could avoid giving the Director the opportunity.

Mack’s booming laugh broke through his silent reverie. “Simmons was right, Turbo. You are pretty well and stuck up there.”

“I think I need a bit of leverage backward to break me free.”

Fitz felt two hands grab his shoe. “I’m pretty sure I can manage it.” 

Jemma watched the whole interaction with a smile. She could hardly not. Mack was barely stifling a snicker with a solid grin as Fitz called out echoing directions from above.

Fitz wriggled his hips experimentally. “A little to the left, I think.”

Mack tugged a bit more towards the left.

Fitz groaned. “Gently, please. But a little more should do it.”

Jemma frowned. Fitz really had managed to wedge himself in rather tightly. It was probably just as well that they had held off on any more amorous activities until after he’d done his initial evaluation. He’s surely have been all scraped up. At she might be able to make the evaluation a bit more enjoyable...for both of them.

“There we go,” Mack rumbled, bringing Jemma back to Earth, as he anchored Fitz’s legs to his chest.

Fitz maneuvered slowly back out of the vent until his head cleared, and Mack lowered him back down to the ground. “Finally.”

“Thank you, Mack.” Jemma spoke warmly before slipping into doctor mode, checking for any obvious signs that needed to be more readily dealt with.

Mack cleared his throat, not so subtly reminding everyone that they were not alone...just in case. “You know, Fitz. All you had to do was ask for help.”

Fitz countered wearily. “I can hardly just sign out a sledgehammer and risk advertising to the Director that I’m trying to put a door in between my room and Jemma’s. Not with the way he’s been on about things.”

“True,” Mack mused. “But Daisy did leave a fairly big present for you to use.”

Fitz’s brow furrowed for only a moment before he and Jemma both echoed in chorus. “The wall strength.”

“We could use concerns standing from her--” Fitz started.

“Attack--for lack of a better word--to reassess and re-build the wall.” Jemma smiled.

“And,” Fitz grinned, ”the Director won’t possibly want you at risk, so I can bring Mack in to “re-build” and sign off on it.”

Mack smirked at the pair of them, looking half amused and half on the verge of getting cavities. “And it means I won’t be getting called out of bed in the middle of the night.”

“Oh,” Jemma smirked, before covering it up with a more bland smile and prodding for details. “And were you--otherwise occupied?”

Mack rolled his eyes. It was amazing how fast the entire unit had clung to the idea that he and Yoyo were an item.

Fitz crossed his arms. “No reason that we should be the only ones to benefit from improvements.”

Mack shook his head in disbelief, crossing the room to put his hand on the doorknob. “Let me know how you want to proceed with those plans in the morning, Fitz. I need to be back in bed for a 5 am workout.”

“Goodnight, Mack!” they waved.

Fitz stared at the door. “I really am surprised that he doesn’t see it.”

“I’m not even sure that improvements would be necessary with her powers. Elena can certainly keep off the cameras if she felt so inclined.” Jemma quirked a brow at him, not even bothering with subtlety as she unbuttoned his shirt for a far more thorough exam. “I think she’s just waiting for him to catch up.”

Fitz’s eyes had darkened a bit, staring at her meaningfully. “I suppose things do go a bit more smoothly after everyone is finally on the same page.”

With a grin, she pressed her lips to his, tugging the rest of his shirt off and tossing it on the floor.

He hissed slightly as her colder fingertips clinically traced the long red mark at his left side.

They--and he--grew quite a bit warmer as their lips broke apart and she started to unbutton his pants and chase the red mark to the edge of his hip.

Jemma’s lips followed the path traced by her fingertips, pressing a series of tender kissed to the raw red line that ended at his hip bone. “It looks like you’ll probably need to take it easy with that side for a bit, but it is thankfully just bruised.”

He looked at her tenderly as she stood back up and pressed her forehead to his. “Do you think I’ll live?”

She rolled her eyes, shooting him a smirking grin. “It is quite likely if you follow your Doctor’s orders.”
Fitz chuckled.

“Which means,” Jemma chided, as she lightly butted her head against his, “cutting down on the reckless behavior. Neither one of us is without friends here. There is no sense for either of us getting into a position of injury.”

Fitz focused on her eyes, tugging lightly at his lip with his teeth. “Not sure I’ll be particularly good at following that one at times.”

“You do have an awful track record on that mark,” she whispered, nudging him over towards the bed. “But an attempt to cut down on that will only benefit us both.”

“Noted.” He raised a brow suggestively. “Anything else?”

She grinned, pulling him along with her the rest of the way. “Let’s see what I can come up with.”