My plan was to answer the next prompt on my list tonight, but I ended up having a busier day than I’d planned for - so in exchange, here’s an extra long fic I wrote quite some time ago. Enjoy!
*Set in a non-SHIELD AU
(Ao3)
-
It was late, and Jemma knew she should’ve left the lab ages ago, that right now she should be at the party Daisy was throwing that she’d made Jemma double and triple swear that she’d attend. But, then she’d realized just how close she was to a breakthrough, and well, everything else just kind of…faded away.
But, then, she was startled out of the fog that tended to take over her while working by the shrill sound of her phone in the otherwise still and silent lab. Surprised, she fumbled for it, nearly dropping it twice before she could lift her goggles to see the name on the screen. Fitz. Of course.
She indulged in a little eyeroll as she peeled off one glove to answer the phone. Fitz was her best friend in the world and had been since they were sixteen, but he was horrendous when it came to any of their other friends half the time, not quite sure how to connect with people who didn’t speak science. Likely, he was just calling to nag her into getting the hell to Daisy’s party already so he didn’t have to socialize on his own.
Really, she’d thought he was getting better about this; she’d even assumed it was gone for good when he’d started hanging out with the guys on his own.
“Fitz? I’m almost done, I promise,” she answered immediately, a sigh following her words as she looked longingly at her microscope.
Much to her confusion, she didn’t hear Fitz’s whiny response, and instead heard muffled laughter. Frowning, she pulled the phone away to peer at it, but yes, that was Fitz’s name on the screen.
“Fitz?” she repeated, her brow creasing. “Are…are you there?”
“But seriously, mate, you’ve got to get your bloody act together.” Jemma recognized that voice, even slurred with intoxication and muffled by distance. It was Lance Hunter, one of Fitz’s guy friends and the on-again off-again boyfriend of her friend Bobbi Morse.
“I know,” Fitz sighed in response, and Jemma could hear just from those two words that he was also drunk, and that he was currently depressed rather than relaxed and excitable, as alcohol sometimes made him. She could also tell that he hadn’t planned to make this call, and she’d been butt-dialed.
Shaking her head in exasperation, she mentally set a reminder for herself to talk with Fitz about ways to prevent these sorts of incidents while preparing to end the call. But, then Fitz’s voice stopped her.
“It’s just, how d’you tell someone they’re your whole world?” he asked, his tone a bit desperate and rather downtrodden.
Jemma frowned, clutching the phone a bit tighter because why hadn’t Fitz asked her for advice if he had such an intense crush on someone? Why had he never even mentioned it to her – his supposed best friend?
“Well you can start by not talkin’ like a bloody bird, Fitz,” Hunter replied, clearly exasperated, and Jemma rolled her eyes at that because he really was an idiot. “Girls don’t wanna hear all that frilly stuff from ya, they’ll think you’re some kinda girl.”
“I dunno, I think she’d appreciate somethin’ like that,” Fitz argued, if a tad half-heartedly, and Jemma mentally applauded him for sticking up for himself.
“You’re wrong,” Hunter immediately disagreed, “Girls want a man who’ll take charge, a man that’s all action and no frills, alright?”
Fitz let out an almighty sigh then. “I guess I’m screwed.”
“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll help you get screwed.” Jemma made a face at Hunter’s comment, pulling the phone away to glare at it, as though Hunter could feel the heat of it through the line. She knew that she was likely going to have to pull some major damage control after this conversation, and she reasoned to herself that that was the only motivation behind her continuing to listen to this clearly private conversation.
“Hunter,” Fitz groaned, and Jemma smiled in amusement at the exasperation in his voice. “It’s just a stupid bloody crush, alright? I’m gonna get over it eventually.”
“Well that hasn’t worked in the past, what, eight bloody years, what makes now any different?” Hunter shot back, and Jemma nearly dropped her phone because there were only a handful of people Fitz had known eight years ago that he still saw on any kind of regular basis, and she didn’t think he was carrying a torch for old Professor Vaughn, who they never could seem to get rid of.
“I don’t know!” Fitz cried in clear frustration. “But she’s my best friend, and I’m not mucking that up just because I can’t seem to fall out of love with her! God Hunter, Jemma can never know, okay?”
With an undignified squawk, Jemma violently hit the ‘end’ button, throwing the phone away from her as though it had burned her. For a long moment, she just stared at the deceptively innocuous phone with wide eyes, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.
-
At some point the next morning, Jemma woke up to the sound of her phone going off on her bedside table, and she peered through burning, bleary eyes at it, wondering who the hell had decided to interrupt her much-needed sleep. She’d spent the rest of the night after leaving the lab agonizing over what the revelation of Fitz’s feelings for her meant for their friendship, which later turned into tossing and turning, and only eventually fell asleep when she’d become too exhausted to fret any longer.
Now, she reached out for her phone with a groan, blinking a couple times before checking the name on the screen. As effective as a bucket of ice water, Jemma was suddenly wide awake when she saw Fitz’s name shining back at her.
Bolting straight up in her bed, she eyed it warily, as though it was a bomb about to go off at any moment, her thoughts running a mile a minute. What do I say to him? Should I tell him? Does he know? How the hell am I supposed to talk to my best friend now that he’s in love with me?
Before she could figure out the answer to any of those questions, the call ended, and she breathed an audible sigh of relief. However, then it immediately picked up with another call, Fitz’s name reappearing in an instant, and Jemma huffed in annoyance because he just wasn’t going to give up – she knew him too well.
So, with a resigned sigh, she answered the call, and asked in her most grouchy, ‘don’t-trifle-with-me’ voice, “What?”
The line was silent for a moment, then Fitz’s hesitant voice came through, “Uh…sorry. Just…um, you weren’t at the party last night, and Daisy said you never texted her to say you weren’t coming, so I was worried. But I guess you’re okay, so…sorry for bothering you.”
Her heart melted at the concern he had for her, and she closed her eyes with a soft sigh because it had always been obvious how much he cared for her, and she’d always felt so fortunate to have him, but now it was all polluted with the harsh reminder that he was in love with her. Had all of his care and concern just been because of his feelings for her? Was their friendship just a way for him to get close to the girl he was crushing on?
But, she knew immediately that that wasn’t the case, because Fitz was a bit slow when it came to social situations, but not that slow – he wouldn’t have decided against making a move for eight years unless he thought that he had something to lose if he did.
“Jemma?” Fitz prompted, and she realized that she’d been silent too long.
“I’m still here,” she promised, “Sorry for snapping at you. I went home straight from the lab last night, and I just had…other things on my mind.”
“No, no, that’s fine,” he hastened to assure her, and an involuntary smile tugged at her lips. “I get it. So, are we still on for tonight?”
Jemma swore silently as she remembered that it was Saturday, and they always spent Saturday nights eating takeout and watching movies. But, she just didn’t think she could spent time alone with him right now, not after what she’d heard last night, so she cleared her throat and stumbled through an excuse. “Oh, um, I forgot to mention, but I…well, I…” She searched desperately for some reason why she wouldn’t be able to spend that night with him, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I have a date.”
Fitz was silent for a long moment, and she could’ve smacked herself. God, he was in love with her, and here she was, throwing some non-existent date in his face. Then, it occurred to her that he must’ve suffered in silence for the past eight years through her parade of boyfriends and flings, which she usually talked about in detail with him, and the urge to smack herself grew stronger. How often had she crushed him over the years, unknowingly putting him through such torture?
However, when he spoke up a moment later, his voice sounded deceptively normal. “Ah, okay. That’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Jemma rolled her eyes at herself, because of course Sundays were when they had brunch together while discussing their latest projects, and then almost always ended up spending the rest of the day together. Why had it never occurred to her before just how unhealthy it was, the amount of time they spent together?
She was quite sure she wouldn’t have everything figured out by tomorrow, so she cringed and closed her eyes and sent a silent apology Fitz’s way as she replied breezily, “Oh, well, I think we should just skip brunch as well, because I’m quite sure the date’ll go well, if you know what I mean.”
“Of course I know what you mean, Jem,” he answered, his tone exasperated and completely distanced from her love life, like any friend would be, and Jemma marveled at how good he was at hiding how he felt. But, she reminded herself, he had had eight years to work on it. “That’s fine; I’ll see what Hunter’s up to, maybe Mack too.”
She felt an immediate surge of guilt, but forced herself to remain firm, and simply replied, “Alright, good. See you soon, Fitz.”
“Bye, Jem,” he murmured, and there it was, just at the end of her name, the hint of softness, of affection, that she somehow had missed for almost a decade, but now was as glaringly obvious as Hunter’s disgusting innuendos.
He ended the call then, but Jemma remained holding her phone to her ear for a long moment afterward.
-
Much to Jemma’s shame, it went on like that for some time. She began to dodge his calls and skip out on their plans with half-assed excuses until he just stopped trying. She felt awful and sick to her stomach each time, and the guilt only grew worse with each passing day that she didn’t see him. But, she had no bloody clue how to act around him anymore, was terrified that she was going to blurt out that she knew how he felt and it would ruin their friendship. She was scared that everything was going to change, and she couldn’t even stand the idea of losing Fitz, let alone it actually happening.
For the first time, it occurred to her that she would be lost without him, that he’d somehow become an integral part of her life, and she just couldn’t imagine it without him.
So, for lack of a better way to deal with the truth of Fitz’s feelings, Jemma just continued to ignore him. She wasn’t proud of it, and knew it wasn’t a long-term solution, but it was working for now and that was all that mattered.
At least, it was working until Bobbi showed up at her door late one night, arms crossed and an eyebrow arched accusingly.
“Bobbi,” she greeted in surprise, automatically stepping back to allow her friend into her flat. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Bobbi replied cryptically, striding into the flat and spinning back to face Jemma with her hands on her hips, her interrogation face on.
Frowning, Jemma closed the door and leaned back against it. “I…I think everything’s fine?”
“Well, then why did Fitz spend last night on my couch, drunkenly crying about how he was losing his best friend and he didn’t even know why?”
Jemma couldn’t help her horrified gasp as she stood up straight, her hands flying to her neck anxiously. “Oh no. Is he alright? Oh, I didn’t mean for this to happen!”
“What did you mean to happen, then?” Bobbi asked pointedly. “What’s going on, Jem?”
Groaning, Jemma lifted her hands to run her fingers through her hair in frustration, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s all just a mess. I just needed a bit of space to try and figure out how to deal with everything.”
“Everything?” Bobbi repeated searchingly.
With a heavy sigh, Jemma launched into an explanation, “While Fitz was at Daisy’s party, he accidentally called me, and I overheard a rather…personal conversation between him and Hunter about…about his rather intense feelings for…for me.”
Bobbi’s eyes widened, and her hands fell to her sides as she whispered under her breath, “Shit.”
“You knew?!” Jemma gasped, unable to help but feel betrayed. Did everyone else know?
“Of course I did! I have eyes, Jemma! He worships the ground you walk on!” With a groan of her own, Bobbi ran a hand over her face. “God, no wonder you’ve pulled a disappearing act. Can’t be easy, hearing that your best friend is head over heels for you.”
“It’s not,” Jemma assured her with an exasperated sigh. “I’m just so confused and suddenly I’m seeing everything so differently and…and it’s simply far too much, so it’s just easier to avoid it and…and well, unfortunately that means avoiding Fitz as well.”
Bobbi dropped her hand to give her a sympathetic look, but then she sighed and it morphed into a knowing expression. “You’re going to have to talk to him at some point, Jemma. You can continue avoiding him afterwards, but he at least deserves to know why.”
“Well, it’s not as if I’m angry with him, or blame him or anything!” Jemma insisted. “I’m not trying to…to punish him or something. I’m just trying to come to some kind of solution.”
“You can’t quantify love,” Bobbi warned her softly, “Honey, it’s not that easy. You’re not going to wake up one day and suddenly everything will go back to the way it was. I’m sorry, but there’s only after.”
“I won’t accept that,” Jemma replied firmly, shaking her head in rejection of the idea. “It’ll just take some time and thought.”
Bobbi frowned in concern for a moment, silently studying Jemma, who began to squirm a bit under her gaze. Finally, she asked gently, “Have you thought about how you feel?”
“About what?” she asked in confusion. “I mean, I’m quite understandably shocked, and terrified of this changing everything.”
“Not about the situation,” Bobbi elaborated with a shake of her head. “About Fitz.”
Jemma recoiled a bit in surprise, her eyebrows darting up her forehead. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, now that you know how he feels, do you feel any differently about him? About your relationship?”
“Are you asking me if I have feelings for Fitz?” Jemma asked in disbelief, and without giving Bobbi a chance to answer, she immediately went on, “Because that’s ridiculous. He’s my best friend, and I’ve never thought of him as anything else. Of course, that being said, I can’t imagine my life without him, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head in frustration and spreading her hands helplessly.
Bobbi took a few steps to close the distance between them, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Hon, I’d advise that you figure it out soon, and talk to him. Because even though he loves you, you’re still his best friend, and he’s just as scared to lose you. Don’t put him through this.” With that and a parting squeeze to her shoulder, Bobbi showed herself out of the flat, leaving Jemma with a whole new host of problems to struggle through.
-
It had been a week and a half since Jemma’s impromptu conversation with Bobbi, and she still hadn’t come any closer to puzzling out answers to the dozens of questions now hovering over her relationship with Fitz. He’d continued to allow her space, even if he had no idea why, and her heart was rather full with affection for him and his wordless understanding, though she was still wracked with guilt.
But, he had broken his pattern that morning, as Jemma realized when she woke up to find that she had one missed call from Fitz just an hour previous. He must’ve left a message, given the one voicemail she hadn’t had last night, but it hadn’t been prefaced or followed by any texts, so she brushed it off and decided to deal with it later.
However, then her phone rang not long after that, while she was in the shower, and she was almost disappointed when she saw that it was Daisy rather than Fitz – though she told herself that she wasn’t, and was in fact relieved even if she didn’t feel like it.
“Hello Daisy,” Jemma answered, feeling a bit ridiculous peeking out from behind her shower curtain to keep her phone dry.
“Jemma,” Daisy started, her voice shaky and so quiet that she was nearly drowned out by the shower spray behind Jemma.
“Daisy, what’s wrong?” she demanded, beginning to feel her heartbeat pick up speed and her hands shake.
Daisy released a long, unsteady sigh, then went on, “I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but drop it. Just…get to the hospital.”
Jemma immediately reached out with her free hand to shut off the water, hastily wrapping a towel around her body and stumbling out of the shower. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Are you okay?”
“It’s not me, it’s…it’s Fitz.”
And that’s when Jemma’s world stopped turning.
-
Jemma had gotten dressed and driven to the hospital in a daze, and it only cleared once she burst into the waiting room and found Bobbi crying into Hunter’s shoulder and Mack pacing the room as Daisy stared blankly at the swinging doors leading further into the hospital. However, as soon as Jemma appeared, she blinked and stood, crossing the space to throw her arms around her.
“What happened?” Jemma demanded, though it came out low and broken.
“Car accident,” Daisy answered with a shuddering breath, shaking her head against Jemma’s shoulder. “He was unconscious when they found him and pretty banged up, maybe a broken arm.”
Jemma sucked in a sharp breath, pulling back to meet Daisy’s watery eyes. “How…how long ago? When did this happen?”
“I don’t know, pretty early this morning, I guess,” Daisy answered, shaking her head. “No one has any idea what happened, the police are pretty sure there was another driver involved, but they probably took off.” She clenched her jaw, her eyes temporarily blazing with hatred, but it quickly fizzled and her shoulders sagged as she whispered, “I can’t imagine how scared he must’ve been.”
“I thought you said he was unconscious,” Jemma reminded her, though she couldn’t quite believe that she’d retained any information when all she could think was of a bloody and unconscious Fitz lying somewhere in this hospital.
“Yeah, when they found him, but the doctor said he probably passed out from the pain at some point between the crash and when he was rescued,” Daisy explained, “And who knows how long that was.”
Abruptly, Jemma was reminded of the unexplained call from Fitz she’d woken up to, and the voicemail she’d yet to listen to, and her stomach filled with icy cold dread. Trying to remember to breathe, she excused herself to a nearby empty hall, and lifted her phone to her ear with a trembling hand.
“Hey Jem,” Fitz’s shaky voice came spilling from her phone, and she raised her free hand to smother her desperate sob. “I…I um…don’t wanna worry you but I’m in a bit of a…jam right now and…well…I just wanted to tell you something. I…uh…well, I know you know. Don’t be mad with Bobbi, ‘cause it was Hunter that spilled the beans. I’m sorry, I never meant…it was never supposed to happen, Jemma, really. But, you’ve gotta admit that you’re pretty perfect and it’s hard not to fall for you. I understand why you’ve been ignoring me, and I hope…well, I hope that eventually we’ll work everything out. I hope we’ll get the chance to. But, if we don’t, and well…even if we do, I just wanna say it once. Jemma, I lo –”
Jemma let out a cry of distress when the voicemail cut off unexpectedly, and she yanked the phone away from her ear to scan the screen for the problem, but it simply told her that that was the end of the message, meaning that the problem had been on his end.
Ignoring the tears steadily making tracks down her cheeks, she hastily replayed the message, closing her eyes and sobbing silently at his voice – her favorite voice in the world – as it washed over her. She’d been his last thought, the last person he’d wanted to speak to, and she hadn’t even been there to pick up the damn phone. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him in weeks, and yet he’d still thought to call her in what could’ve been his last moments, and Jemma felt sick to her stomach. She’d wasted so much time all because of her stupid fears. Yes, Fitz being in love with her did change everything, but it was only now that Jemma realized that she was only afraid of those changes because it forced her to see the truth.
She was in love with Fitz.
-
When Jemma finally managed to tear herself away from the voicemail and return to the waiting room, she found Mack now sitting with his head in his hands, and Daisy with fresh tears on her cheeks, while Bobbi and Hunter had disappeared at some point. A bit unsurely, Jemma crossed the room to sit beside Daisy, and contemplated for a moment if she even wanted to know what had happened in the time she’d been gone.
But, Daisy took the choice away from her, turning to her with haunted eyes and reaching out to grip Jemma’s hand with her own as she explained hollowly, “Fitz’s doctor was just here. He’s…he’s in a coma, Jemma. They…they don’t if he’ll…”
Jemma wasn’t sure if Daisy ever finished that sentence, or if she just never heard the end of it because all the sound had been sucked out of her world as the very idea of Fitz being in a coma and possibly never waking from it sunk in. In fact, all she seemed to be able to remember after that moment was the sight of Daisy’s chipped blue nail polish, glaring against Jemma’s pale skin. It was a shade of dark blue that she couldn’t bring herself to wear, let alone look at, for months afterward.
-
Nine agonizing days later, his coma finally broke, and even though Jemma had told Daisy just hours earlier that she was all cried out, she broke into relieved tears as his eyes opened and met hers, and he mumbled out a soft, broken, “Jemma.”
Of course, she was promptly kicked out by the doctors and nurses, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care, because he was alive. Fitz was alive, and she was never going to let another moment pass without him by her side.
After what seemed like hours, Jemma was allowed back into the room (and the others so graciously offered to let her see him first; though she hadn’t told anyone what she’d realized, she assumed that they all somehow knew anyway), and when she laid eyes upon Fitz, sitting up in the hospital bed and with a little color back in his cheeks, she nearly burst into tears again. “Fitz,” she sighed lovingly, snatching up the hand of his not in a sling and pressing it against her cheek as she perched on the edge of his bed. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
He was staring up at her in awe, his mouth hanging open a bit, and Jemma just knew that he probably thought she hated him for his feelings, and perhaps her avoidance of him hadn’t been sending the right messages, but she promised herself that she’d set him straight soon enough. After a moment, he cleared his throat and replied almost evenly, “I’ll try, Jem. Sorry for scaring you.”
“You should be.” A little bit of anger bubbled up, and she freed one hand to give his shoulder a little shove. “What the hell were you thinking, leaving me some sort of goodbye message? My god, Leopold, what was I supposed to think?”
He winced a bit at her use of his first name, but wisely didn’t object, and instead gave her a sheepish look. “I wasn’t really…thinkin’ at the time. I mean, I was concussed.” He gestured toward his head with his other hand, made awkward by his sling and broken arm.
“Don’t joke about that,” Jemma snapped, and he immediately looked remorseful. He opened his mouth, likely to apologize again, but she beat him to it, blurting out, “I’m sorry.”
Fitz’s face screwed up in confusion, and he tilted his head. “For…what?”
“For…for ignoring you and freaking out about something that isn’t even your fault, for making you suffer when you didn’t deserve to, for being a blind idiot, really, you can take your pick.” His mouth was hanging open in a gape, and Jemma gave a little sniffle as she added tearfully, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if I’d spent so long pushing you away and then lost you. I’ve wasted all this time, and for no good reason. I’m so sorry, Fitz. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Jemma…” Fitz trailed off, shaking his head slowly in dazed disbelief. “Jem, there’s nothing to forgive. You had every right to avoid and ignore and push me away. I made everything weird with my…my stupid feelings,” he spat the words out as though they were something awful, and she flinched slightly. “It’s all my fault.”
“No,” Jemma argued instantly, but he didn’t seem to be listening.
“I’m supposed to be your best friend, for god’s sake, I’m not supposed to be putting you into these situations –”
“You’re more than that,” she interrupted, desperate to make him see what she’d only just realized and come to terms with.
Fitz immediately stopped talking, his brow furrowing in confusion. “More than…what?”
Jemma fought the urge to roll her eyes and reminded herself that he had just woken from a coma after sustaining a serious concussion. He got a pass just this once. “More than my best friend, silly.” When he once more gaped wordlessly at her, she gave an affectionate little sigh and explained, “I only just realized it as I was listening to that message, because suddenly there was the very real possibility that you’d no longer be in my life and…and I just couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine what I was possibly supposed to do without you. I’ve missed you to the point of ridiculousness these past few weeks, and well…that’s just not normal best friend etiquette, is it? My life without you is…well, it’s just…empty. And I know now that it’s because I’m in love with you too, Fitz. I’m sorry I was so…thickheaded in figuring it out.”
He stared at her in shock for another long moment before he stuttered out, “You…you don’t have to…to say that…just ‘cause…‘cause of how I feel. We can forget I ever said anything, we can go back –”
“I don’t want to forget, and I don’t want to go back,” Jemma assured him firmly, a little smile tugging at her lips. “I want to remember and I want to go forward. I want us to…to be together. If that’s what you still want.” She hastily tacked on the last part, because there was still that niggling doubt that he’d changed his mind at some point during her unintended cold shoulder.
“Of course I do,” Fitz hastened to reply. “But, I just…wanna know if you’re sure it’s what you want.”
This time, Jemma couldn’t suppress her eye-roll, or her groan of, “Ugh Fitz! Isn’t that what I just said? Multiple times? Honestly, how thick can you be? You’re supposed to be a genius, for god’s sake!”
“Hey!” he cried, but it was half-hearted and teasing, and there was an awed little smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the one who took eight years and a coma to figure out what I knew from the moment I met you.”
Jemma’s expression softened, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I guess you’ll have to forgive my social incompetence just this once.”
Fitz made a show of thinking it over, but after a brief moment, he replied softly, “For you? Anything.”
With that, Jemma leaned in to fit her lips against Fitz’s for the first time, and she couldn’t believe that she’d ever been afraid of something that could feel so utterly right.
The two ladies simultaneously cautioned a glance in Mr Fitz’s direction and found his eyes already on them. His countenance brightened considerably at their attention.
When Jemma turned back to Audrey she once more found her friend’s face a mask of concern.
“Please, Audrey,” Jemma sighed. “You need not worry yourself.”
“I am sorry, dear,” she replied, “but do allow me one final question on the subject. Do you specifically recall the conversation in which you explained to Mr Fitz the reasons you intended never to marry?”
Jemma’s brow furrowed as she struggled to remember. She distinctly recalled explaining it to Mr Sitwell in no uncertain terms. She waved her hand dismissively. “I do not happen to remember the details, Audrey, but I am positive we have discussed it.”
“You are quite certain?”
Jemma nodded, though in truth she felt more uncertain than ever. She glanced back up towards Mr Fitz, sitting in state at the front of the church, sandwiched between Daisy with little Jemima and Miss Triplett in the crowded front pews.
It would be unkind of her to assume, simply because her friend was a single man in possession of a good fortune, that he must be in want of a wife. If anything, Mr Fitz had been the one speaking regretfully about the single women constantly and insensitively foisted upon him by his parents.
She shot him a brilliant smile across the cold stone church and he blinked rapidly in response. She could at least do him the favour of being the first of those single women as sensibly disinterested in the state of matrimony as he.
What a breath of fresh air Mr Fitz would find her!
The Master and the Midwife - The Austen-lite midwifery-themed Regency Era AU you never knew you needed.
Being in the lab again - somewhere clean, bright, not windy, loud, full of things she can’t quite remember and people who expect too much of her - must be so difficult for her. And Fitz’ heart is breaking because this used to be their home, their place, everything they were and had together and it’s been taken from her.
