hi! do you know of any fics where Mickey isn’t in prison in season 6 or 7? Like ones where he’s basically written into the canon for those seasons instead of in prison or the escape plot??
Hi! :) Here you go, four great fics:
Joy of rediscovering you - Mickey never went to prison and he is completely written into the canon of S6.
to stop our hearts from drowning - Mickey gets out of prison six months after being arrested for a crime he didn't actually commit.
to think that we could stay the same - Mickey gets out in a few days after the break up, because there's no evidence.
when the party's over 'verse series - they let Mickey out of jail after 12 hours and he doen't want to run back to Ian. Mickey is written into the canon of S6.
Bonnie Prince Charlie dies in France of natural causes.
Jamie leaned a bit harder on the porch railing, shifting his feet on the floorboards he and Ian had hewn, watching his children and grandchildren race each other in the field.
Claire wordlessly appeared at his side, offering him a clay mug of hot cider. He clinked it against hers and sipped.
It was an unseasonably warm afternoon for October - and Jem and Germaine and Marsali and Joan and Fergus and Roger had abandoned their chores to chase and tumble.
He didn’t mind. It had been such a hard year - such a hard month. But Claire was slowly on the mend. Back to seeing patients in her surgery. Back to reaching out for his hand, and pulling him close to her in bed. Back to smiling every once in a while.
“Can I ask ye a question?”
He didn’t need to see her face to know it would have a puzzled expression. “I’d think that by now we would be past the point of asking.”
He set down his mug on the railing, watching Germaine let Jemmy tackle him to the ground, giggling.
“You ken that I often think on the nature of change. I change one thing in my early years, and I trace what may have changed in my later years.”
She cleared her throat. “I know. We’ve talked about it before. God knows I think about how my life would have been, had I not seen those forget-me-nots at the stone circle. Or had I not seen the notice in the paper of Reverend Wakefield’s death.” She paused. “You’ve told me that you’ve often thought about what if your father had been home and not off to a funeral when the redcoats came to Lallybroch.”
“Aye.”
She sipped her cider. “So what are you thinking about now, then?”
He straightened. “What if Charles Stuart had dropped dead in Paris. Natural causes or otherwise.”
She let out a deep breath. “I see. Not what we’ve talked about - had we killed him at Culloden.”
“Aye. That’s my question to ye, Claire - do you think that that would have been a big enough change?”
For a long moment, Claire watched Brianna and Marsali quietly speak to each other while their sons ran around them like wildcats.
“Big enough to change the course of history? Or big enough to change our own history?”
Gently he reached for her right hand, and protectively curled his fingers around it. “We would have been able to leave Paris earlier, or to stay there longer. I could have continued working for Jared. From what ye’ve told me, we still may have lost our lass...”
Claire nodded, eyes suddenly filling with tears.
“...But we could have built a life there. No matter what, there wouldnae have been a Rising. We would have had Bree, and she would have grown up speaking French. Ye would have stayed here, in this time.”
She pursed her lips. “I don’t disagree. But why are you thinking about this now, Jamie?”
He turned to face her. Released her hand. Raised his palm to her cheek, his thumb gentle on her still-bruised skin. “It would have been a simpler life. I - we - would have had more. But we would have had less, too. You wouldnae have been to medical school. I...I wouldnae have served in prison, but I wouldnae have met John. Willie - he wouldnae have been born. Bree wouldnae have ever met Roger. Fergus wouldnae have ever met Marsali. We wouldnae have our grandbairns. We wouldnae be here, right now, in North Carolina.”
His eyes were so full of love, she could hardly bear looking at them.
“We drive ourselves mad looking back. Can we not look forward?”
He closed his eyes.
“We have so much to look forward to, Jamie. Don’t we?”
Gently, carefully he leaned down so that his forehead touched hers.
“Aye,” his whispered. “Every day we have is a day we never expected to have.”
In the field, Brianna watched her parents embrace on the porch.
Roger appeared at her elbow, heaving deep breaths.
“Warms my heart,” he panted, winding an arm around her.
I actually am really excited for the finale, but I feel like the show has been not as good lately as it had been from 5x01 through 5x05. So, this fic takes place pretty much directly after 5x12, but Clarke wakes and everything post 5x05 had all been just a dream while she was unconscious.
I wrote this at like 1am and didn’t really edit it much, so sorry if this is a mess. I was a mess while writing it.
Just a Dream
When Clarke wakes, it’s to the soft hum of machinery -- almost as if she’s back on the Ark. She stirs at the sound, a crease in her brow before her eyes are fluttering open. Her first thought is that she really is back on the Ark when her eyes are met with a stark white ceiling, and she’s convinced she must be dreaming.
But then she feels the warmth of a hand over her own. How had she not noticed that? Her eyes flick to the right and that’s when she sees him.
Sees Bellamy.
His lips are parted, a relieved smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, you’re awake.”
“Bellamy?”
Clarke tries to sit up, but he reaches out his free hand to stop her. “Easy, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
“What the hell is going on? Where are we?” Clarke absentmindedly realizes he still hasn’t let go of her hand.
“Eligius III.”
Clarke arches an eyebrow at him. “Three? There are more than just one?”
Bellamy nods. “I’ll explain everything in a minute, okay? How are you feeling?”
Clarke ignores him and pulls her hand from his to start working the IV out.
“Hey, stop that.” Bellamy gently grabs her hand to keep her from doing so. “That’s keeping you alive right now.”
“Bellamy, I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“Yes,” she says stubbornly, but there’s no heat in it. “I am.” Bellamy rolls his eyes at that, somewhere between annoyed and fond. “Now, quit stalling and tell me what’s going on. Where’s Madi?”
“I’m not stalling.” She gives him a look. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Forgive me for caring.”
Clarke rolls her eyes. “Bellamy.”
“Madi’s fine. She’s asleep in the next room over.” Clarke lets out a breath of relief at that. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
She shrugs. “I think we were on our way back to the bunker. Everything’s…” Clarke furrows her eyebrows. So much of what happened lately must have all been a dream. “A little fuzzy after that.”
Bellamy nods, swallowing. “You fainted.”
“I fainted?”
“I mean, seems pretty logical considering you don’t remember what happened.”
Clarke weakly smacks at his arm, and Bellamy’s lips twitch with a smile. “I’m just processing, okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice going soft. “Yeah, I know. You always are.”
Before Clarke can allow herself to think too much on it, she shifts the conversation back a bit. “So, um, how does me fainting end with us on Eligius III?”
“Their ship landed in the middle of the desert on our way back to the bunker. You were still out and--” Bellamy looks away. “You weren’t doing so good. The people on board offered to treat you.”
“I’m guessing they’re a little bit nicer than Diyoza.” She cocks her head to the side, voice teasing. “No shock collars?”
Bellamy huffs out a laugh. “I cannot believe you’re joking about that.”
“Morbid humor that’s not funny,” Clarke says. “That was our thing.”
“Our thing,” Bellamy says, going soft again. “Yeah, guess it was, wasn’t it?” The amusement fades in Clarke’s eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just,” Clarke shakes her head, “I had a nightmare.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“More like just ignore it completely.”
“That bad, huh?”
Clarke nods, swallowing. “Everything was broken. Wonkru. Eligius.” A beat. “You and me.”
“Well, Wonkru and Eligius are likely still a mess, but…” Bellamy rubs a thumb across the back of her hand. “We’re good, right?”
A tear slips down Clarke’s cheek at that. Bellamy’s eyebrows furrow in concern and he removes his hand from over hers to wipe it away. Clarke shuts her eyes.
“Hey,” he says.
Clarke sniffles, eyes opening back into his. “We’re good.”
“Clarke.”
“I mean it. We are. We’re on the same page. We’re--” Clarke hesitates.
“Together?”
Clarke purses her lips to keep them from trembling and nods. Together.
A few days had only passed in the dream, but so much had happened between them. They’d barely had the chance to get to know each other again before the world was tearing them apart. Before they were forced to betray one another. Bellamy for the survival of everyone. Clarke for the survival of her child.
Maybe it had been selfish, but it had seemed to have been the only choice at the time. She’d just been so scared.
So scared that she wound up alone, fighting for the enemy just to keep Madi away from the war. So scared that Bellamy had to die because of it. Or, at least she thought he was dead.
The feeling, though it was only part of a dream, resurfaces. The relief that had washed over her, the tears that had gathered in her eyes when she learned that he was alive.
She hadn’t allowed herself to process that he was dead before finding out he never had been, so it had been a lot to take in. She had felt something in her shift.
Because now she could save him.
And she’d told Echo to do just that.
Go save him, she’d said, and that’s when she’d awoken to Bellamy holding her hand.
That’s when she realized none of it had been real. They had never been separated since their reunion, never betrayed one another. They had never been broken.
And as Bellamy had said just now, they were still together.
He had moved on of course, and was with Echo now. That part hadn’t been a dream, and neither had the world falling apart the second her friends returned to her.
But Clarke really doesn’t care.
Because right now, she’d holding her best friend’s hand, and she just knows everything’s going to be okay.
She’s looking right at him when she says it back, a watery closed-lip smile on her face. “Together.”
the most worthwhile of journeys (is taken with you)
Hello, yes, it’s May 15th again, which means I’m posting another birthday fic - though, this year, it’s from Jemma’s POV. It’s also a bit different from the fic I wrote last year, Rising of the Second Sun, but I think that’s the point?? I’m not sure anymore, this was finished a lot later than I planned and it’s two am, bear with me.
Also, I guestimated when Fitzsimmons got married, since we don't know the actual date and the MCU timeline is a mess.
Also also, I'm not completely happy with the title, but I've been trying to think of one for almost an hour and this is the best I've got - it's my birthday, I should get a free pass anyway.
Anyway, set Academy Era through post Season Five
(Ao3)
-
“I’m hungry – can’t we go get something to eat? It’s nearly dinner time!” Fitz complains with a groan, breaking abruptly into the silence of Jemma’s dorm room, where they’ve been spending their Saturday lounging on her bed and studying for their upcoming finals.
Darting a glance at her watch, Jemma rolls her eyes and tells him sharply, “Ugh Fitz, it’s only two-thirty!”
It’s been almost six months since Jemma had found herself paired up with Fitz in chem class, and a little over five months since Fitz had given up their rivalry and stopped ignoring her, finally starting to talk to her instead. Though she had enjoyed the bit of healthy competition, she very much prefers being Fitz’s partner and friend to being his rival – even when he gets on her nerves.
“I’m wasting away!” he insists, closing the textbook he’d been scanning through, tucking his notebook in between the pages to save his place. “Seriously, I think my imminent death by starvation is more important than studying for finals that we aren’t taking for another month.”
With an exasperated sigh, Jemma leans over the side of her bed, rooting around beneath it for a moment before coming back with a box of granola bars that she’d stashed there with this exact scenario in mind. “Here. And as I keep telling you, Fitz, you can never start studying too soon!”
“Oh yes you can,” he argues, digging through the box until he’s plucked a granola bar from it. He makes a bit of a face at the food (which is probably a much healthier snack than he’d been searching for), but ultimately tears open the wrapper and takes a bite. She only gives an irritated little huff in response, and around the granola in his mouth, he teases, “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me – I forgot that you were in a committed relationship with all things academic.”
Narrowing her eyes at the playful dig, Jemma draws her right foot back to kick him in the shin – which is, conveniently, right by her feet – delighting in the yelp it draws out of him. “There,” she says satisfactorily, offering him a winning smile, “now eat your granola bar and be quiet, Fitz.”
But, Fitz does nothing of the sort. Instead, he drops the granola bar entirely, reaching out to cover his shin protectively with both hands as he whines, “Ow! Simmons, you – I think you’ve broken my leg! I…I…” Then, he drops dramatically back onto the mattress, holding a hand to his forehead. “Oh, my poor, poor leg!”
Though Jemma thinks that Fitz is being absolutely ridiculous, his theatrics have a huge smile spreading across her lips as she delivers another little kick to his leg, warning him a lot less firmly than she’d intended to, “Be serious, Fitz!” He lets out a pathetic little moan in response, and she has to press her lips together to stifle her laughter.
And, it’s at that moment, with her heart swelling with absolute affection for him, that Jemma realizes that she can’t quite remember what her life was like before her came into it, even though it’s only been six months. There’s something about being with Fitz, about the way that he makes even the simplest things so much brighter, so much more fun, that she’s never experienced with anyone else before.
When Fitz finally pops back up, leaning on his elbows for support, she prompts him seriously, “Fitz?”
“Yeah?” he questions, his little grin fading into a frown, no doubt at the look on her face (which is most likely a cross between determination and anxiety).
Jemma inhales a short breath, then blurts out without a single ounce of finesse, “You’re my best friend.”
The room falls silent in the wake of her confession, and Fitz spends a handful of moments just gaping at her, obviously not sure what to say in response.
Chewing at her bottom lip nervously, Jemma gives him another, weak little kick as she asks softly, “Fitz?”
Finally, he sucks in a shaky breath of his own, and stutters out, “You’re – well of course – Simmons…” Then, he clears his throat and pushes himself up to sit up fully, hunching his shoulders and dropping his gaze to stare down at his lap. It’s only for a moment, though, and then he looks back up to meet her eyes, an intensity and sincerity in them as he tells her, “You’re my best friend too.”
Jemma had suspected as much, of course – it’s not as if either of them spends any sort of regular time with anyone else at the Academy – but the words being put so plainly have her breath catching slightly in her throat, her heart beating just a bit quicker in her chest.
“Um, good,” she replies, the words coming out strangely breathlessly, and she hastily drops her eyes back to her textbook.
“Yeah. Good.” She can hear him reopening his own book then, shortly before his pencil begins to tap out a steady rhythm against it.
Confident that he isn’t paying attention to her, then, Jemma allows herself to indulge in a wide, excited grin.
And fittingly, that day is the birthday of Peggy Carter (which Jemma, of course, knows because she became fascinated with SHIELD’s founder upon doing her research before attending the Academy last fall), a trailblazer if there ever was one, where Jemma takes her first true steps onto a new path for her life to follow.
But, of course, she won’t recognize the significance of the moment for years to come.
-
“And you’re sure that you’ll be busy all day? I could even take you out for breakfast, or a late lunch or something,” David, Jemma’s current boyfriend, presses once more.
Shifting to hold the phone between her ear and her shoulder, Jemma finishes buttoning up her shirt as she explains once more, “I’m sorry, but I already have plans. I told you this two weeks ago, David.”
“I know, I know, but – it’s your birthday, Jemma. Can I at least see you?”
Pursing her lips, she lets out a silent sigh and takes the phone in her hand once more and leans up against the sink in the bathroom that she shares with Fitz. “I just don’t think I’ll have the time. But, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”
Even over the line, she can hear his less-than-happy huff, but he eventually replies, “Yeah, sure. Happy Birthday, Jemma.”
“Thank you. Goodbye, David.” She waits until he’s said his goodbyes as well, then ends the call, tucking her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans and stepping out of the room and into the hall.
When she’d passed Fitz’s bedroom door earlier on her way to the bathroom, it had been closed and he’d likely still been asleep. Now, it is open as she goes by once more, and sure enough he’s waiting for her in the living room when she enters it. The TV is already on, and he’s in the process of queuing up the first of her favorite movies that they’d scheduled to watch for the day.
At her entrance, though, he pauses and turns to face her, a grin curling his lips as he greets, “Hey, Happy Birthday!”
Laughing, Jemma plops down on the couch beside Fitz. “Thank you, Fitz.”
Fitz holds the remote out, as though he’s about to start the movie, but then pauses and turns to her, “And now you’re sure this is what you wanna do instead of going out and getting drunk?”
Shifting to curl up a bit more comfortably on the couch and tucking her legs beneath her, Jemma replies, “Truthfully, yes. I think I’m still recovering from last year’s twenty-one bender; spending my twenty-second birthday at home watching movies all day sounds heavenly in comparison.”
Fitz affects an exaggerated shudder, nodding in agreement. “Okay, yeah, you’re right; I don’t need you puking on anymore of my shoes.”
Jemma rolls her eyes, throwing an elbow into his ribs as she tells him, “Just start the movie, Fitz.”
“Bossy, bossy – but, I’m going to let it pass, since it is your birthday,” he teases in reply, finally pressing ‘play’ on the remote.
And, that is exactly how they spend the day; lounging on the couch together, with the occasional trips to the kitchen for food and the few times they have to pause for Jemma to answer a phone call from a family member. But, it is an absolutely perfect day, and by the time that it’s dark outside their windows and the only light is coming from their TV, they’re on their last movie of the day.
Jemma has her legs slung over Fitz’s lap and her head resting on his shoulder, and she can feel the beginnings of exhaustion just beginning to tug at her. She’s just so warm and comfortable there…
“Hey,” Fitz says suddenly, startling Jemma out of the half-sleep she’d been slipping into, “do you have plans with David tonight? Because if you do, you can go if you want – it’s not my birthday, you don’t have to stay here with me.”
Lifting her head from his shoulder, Jemma turns to look at Fitz more fully, noting his understanding smile. “No, I…” Truthfully, she does feel badly about skipping out on a date with David to spend the day with Fitz – but, she’d justified it to herself with the reminder that it was her birthday and, well…he was dreadfully dull compared to Fitz. However, to him, she says, “Fitz, there’s no else that I’d rather spend my birthday with.”
The words have a flicker of relief crossing his face and his smile growing a bit wider, but he simply nods in response, replying, “Oh, okay.”
And, though Jemma knows what she said is true and that Fitz is more important to her than any of her boyfriends ever had been or ever could be, she’s a bit taken aback to realize that she has never meant anything more than those words in her life.
-
It’s still rather early when Jemma tiptoes out of the bunk and into the hall, quietly closing the door behind her before hurrying through the corridors of the Playground until she reaches the commissary. Fortunately for her, it’s early enough that she doesn’t run into anyone else as she moves as quickly as possible through getting what she needs to ready.
Once she’s finally finished, she piles it all onto a tray, and (carefully) hurries back the way that she’d come, slipping back into the bunk and smiling at the sight of Fitz still fast asleep in their bed. He’s rolled over onto his stomach in her absence, his face buried in his pillow with his cheek crushed against it, and he’s so adorable that her stomach flips with affection.
Jemma sets the tray down on the desk, and slips out of the robe that she’d donned to leave their room, crawling back into bed with him and slipping beneath the covers. “Fitz,” she whispers, sliding one palm along his naked back and leaning in to press slow, lingering kisses over his shoulders and the back of his neck. “Fitz, it’s time to get up. Fitz.”
He grumbles something incoherent, shoving his face more fully into his pillow.
She lets out a little laugh in response, trailing her fingertips lightly over his side, and dropping another kiss on his shoulder. “Fitz, come on, it’s morning.” But, when she doesn’t even get an attempt at a reply that time, she shifts up onto her knees until she can straddle his back. She feels him stiffen slightly beneath her, then relax, before she slides her arms underneath his in a hug, the entire length of her front pressed against his back. “Wake up, Fitz, wake up,” she sing-songs, tilting her head until she can find the hinge of his jaw with her mouth, nibbling lightly at the skin there.
“M’up, m’up,” he mumbles out, and it’s her only warning before she finds herself suddenly on her back, Fitz rolling until he’s above her and kissing her lazily, one hand cupping her cheek and the other gripping her hip.
Jemma responds eagerly to the kiss, burying the fingers of one hand in his curls to keep him close, and against his lips, she whispers, “Happy Birthday, Fitz.”
His lips pause against hers, then he pulls back just enough to catch her eye, and the way that his are shining has her heart filling with warmth. “Best one I’ve ever had, without a doubt,” he murmurs, beginning to lean back into her.
But, she wiggles out from underneath him, hopping out of bed and ignoring his groan of loss. “Wait!” she calls over her shoulder as she crosses the room to grab the tray from the desk, bringing it back over to the bed with her. “I’ve got tea and pancakes!”
Fitz, having rolled onto his back, drops back against the headboard then, eyeing her for a moment before releasing a great sigh and rolling his eyes skyward. “Alright, now I don’t think any birthday could ever compare to this one – I mean, naked Jemma Simmons bringing me pancakes in bed? What could possibly top that?”
“Oh hush,” Jemma snaps lightly, climbing back into bed and handing him the tray. They’ve only taken a couple bites of pancake, however, when she says contemplatively, “This really is different from how we’ve always celebrated birthdays in the past, though, isn’t it?”
Fitz freezes, fork halfway to his mouth. “Uh…good different, or bad different?”
Giving a little roll of her eyes, Jemma curves a hand along his cheek and pecks his lips reassuringly before answering, “Good different, of course.”
It’s true, though; this is the first birthday that they’ve celebrated as a romantic couple, and the reminder has a little thrill passing through Jemma. Sure, things aren’t great around them at the moment – Daisy has taken off in the wake of Lincoln’s sacrifice and has so far evaded any and all efforts to bring her home, Coulson is being forced to step down as Director in the coming months, and they’re all still coming to terms with the government being more directly involved in (and scrutinizing) their affairs.
However, today is all about them, and about making the day as good as she possibly can for Fitz, so Jemma forces herself not to think about all of that, to not feel guilty about this little indulgence. Instead, she teases, “Being a couple certainly would’ve made for interesting birthdays these past twelve years, you know. Though, I’m sure it would’ve gotten old eventually.”
“Never,” Fitz argues immediately, finding her lips with his to press in for more kisses, made sweet and slightly sticky from the syrup.
She isn’t sure if it is the conviction in his voice or his lips against hers or just him in general, but Jemma is abruptly (and not for the first time) overwhelmed with a rush of utter love for her best friend. When he goes to pull away, she lifts a hand to hold the back of his head and draw him back in (and it’s not as if he puts up a fight).
After a long moment, she finally breaks away, resting her forehead against his and holding his beloved face between her hands as she murmurs, “I love you, Fitz.”
His own hand comes up to cradle her cheek, and his thumb strokes her skin as he replies softly, reverently, “I love you, Jemma.”
And, even though everything around them is so wrong and Jemma has the feeling that it’s only going to get worse, it is the best birthday that they’ve spent together in a long time.
-
The day that Jemma marries Fitz is one the happiest that she has ever experienced – which is incredible in and of itself, given that there’s a dimensional rift in their basement threatening to break open at any moment with their worst fears made real, and they’ve just returned from a trip to an apocalyptic future that they have to try and stop from happening.
But, it’s simply a testament to how strong their love for each other is that it can temporarily outshine the worries in her mind, leaving only wedded bliss and the joy of finally marrying her best friend and the love of her life.
After the wedding itself, their little team gathers in the common area with a few of the other agents that have joined them at the Lighthouse, and they drink and talk and laugh, celebrating their unity as though the world isn’t getting closer and closer to ending every minute.
Jemma has spent much of the time either curled up against Fitz or perched on his lap, but after awhile, she rises to stretch her legs for a bit. He catches her hand as she steps away, and she bends over to press a kiss to his forehead, assuring him, “I’ll be right back.”
She meanders over to the little table set up with some snacks and sandwiches, and is nibbling on a couple of crackers (and being careful to keep any crumbs off of her wedding dress) when Daisy approaches her with a beaming grin.
“I can’t believe you guys actually got married,” she says excitedly, giving Jemma a little nudge in the side with her elbow.
“Neither can I,” Jemma admits.
“I mean, it’s such a long time coming.” Daisy shakes her head, grabbing a handful of pretzels and munching on them. Around the mouthful, she goes on, “God, I just never thought that those two nerds I met on the Bus all that time ago would get married – to each other.”
Jemma can’t help but laugh at that, giving a little shake of her own head. “I know – we would’ve never thought it either, I can tell you that much.”
“I know I’ve asked this before, but…you guys really never thought of each other like that before?” Daisy gazes at Jemma imploringly, her eyebrows raised.
“No,” Jemma confesses, folding her arms over her chest and shrugging slightly. “We were always very firm in the belief that we were best friends, completely and utterly platonically.” She glances over her shoulder, spotting Fitz – her husband – chatting with Mack, Davis, and Mike about something that has them all laughing, and the sight of happiness on Fitz’s face has a smile automatically curving her own lips. “It’s the only thing we’ll ever admit to being ignorant about.”
Daisy snorts out a laugh at that. “Well, lemme tell you, for as long as I’ve known you both, you’ve never acted like completely and utterly platonic best friends; I always knew there had to be something else there.”
“So we’ve heard.” After all, Daisy is far from the first of their friends to say they saw something between her and Fitz before they saw it themselves.
“Well, no matter how you got here, I’m so happy for you guys.”
Jemma’s smile widens, and she catches one of Daisy’s hands in hers to give it a grateful squeeze. “Thank you, Daisy. Though, I truly doubt that anyone’s happier than Fitz and I are just about now.”
“Oh, so do I,” Daisy agrees easily, chuckling – which quickly turns into full-blown laughter as Jemma crosses the room and tugs Fitz up from his seat. They say their goodnights to everyone before she begins to lead him toward the door, and Daisy calls after them, “Whoa, I guess you really are happy about this wedding!”
In response, Jemma simply shoots Daisy a wink over her shoulder.
And it isn’t until much later that night, when Jemma’s thinking back over the day, over the wedding, and her conversation with Daisy at the reception, that she realizes abruptly and very much out of the blue; it’s Sigmund Freud’s birthday.
To herself, Jemma can’t help but think dryly then that the psychologist certainly would have a lot to say about her relationship with Fitz – after all, he is the one that first stated the significance of unconscious behavior, that the choices that people make are determined by hidden reasoning in their minds. And, well, if that didn’t describe their friendship, the way that they had always wanted to be together, the way that they’d grown so close but never saw it as unusual simply because they weren’t aware of their feelings, she doesn’t know what does.
Daisy had been absolutely right earlier; she and Fitz had never acted as traditional best friends, but their draw toward each other and the physical and mental closeness that had grown out of it had been completely unconscious to both of them. While outsiders had always read it as a romantic interest in one another, they’d simply brushed off the notion and explained the intimacy away with their close friendship.
Rolling over in bed then to face Fitz, who is already fast asleep, Jemma reaches out to lightly trail her fingertips over his cheek, before finding his left hand to stroke her thumb over his wedding ring (which she’s been caressing off and on for hours, but the feel of the metal against her skin still makes her stomach do a little flip).
The notion that they hadn’t realized their romantic love for one another for a decade feels ridiculous now, lying in bed together and wearing wedding rings, but Jemma can still remember the days when Fitz was her best friend and her partner, and she was convinced that her desire to spend every waking hour with him was because he was the most interesting person that she’d ever met, that he understood and shared her love of science, that he could read her mind and finish her sentences so effortlessly.
And though she knew now that it had been all of that, plus a deep connection that eventually and without their notice turned to love, she wouldn’t give up all those years as friends for anything – they are just as important and dear to her as the time that they’ve spent as a couple.
So, though Freud might have a lot to say about the wedding that occurred on his birthday, Jemma doesn’t pay it anymore mind; all that matters is that they’re fully aware of it all now, and that they’re married, moving forward in their lives together.
Though, however, that doesn’t last very long at all (and, without a doubt, Freud would also have quite a bit to say about what happens next).
-
“Hey, do you think we have enough balloons?”
Noting the dry tone of her husband’s voice, Jemma rolls her eyes and throws a sharp look at him over her shoulder after she’s finished carefully placing the cake in the fridge. “It’s her first birthday, Fitz; it should be special.” He opens his mouth, but she continues before he can speak, “Yes, I know she won’t remember it, but that’s not the point.”
“Alright, alright,” Fitz says, holding up his hands in surrender, then swooping down to pick up Evelyn from her seat on their living room floor and sitting her on his hip. “I can agree that our little Evie deserves the best.” He drops a kiss on top of her head, grinning at the delighted little squeal he receives in response. “So, what time did you tell everyone to get here?”
Jemma throws a glance at the clock on the wall in their kitchen. “Actually, they should be getting here any minute.” She presses her lips together a bit anxiously, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as she peers at their front door.
After much debate, they’d agreed to invite the team to their Perthshire home for Evelyn’s first birthday (and to throw a separate party later that day with their families – though, if all went well, they’d invite their SHIELD friends to stay for it as well). Though they’d left SHIELD amicably the previous year, things still hadn’t quite been healed from the cracks that had begun to form between them while they’d been trying to break the time loop they’d found themselves in.
As such, Jemma isn’t quite sure if today is going to end up being a disaster or not; after all, without a world to save as a distraction, things might only serve to be worse than they had been before.
It’s at that moment that a knock sounds through the cottage, and Jemma takes a steadying breath before going to get it. The very moment that she opens the door, though, to the sight of Coulson and May arguing in whispered voices about where they’d parked the cloaked quinjet, Elena and Daisy chatting about a new training regimen the latter had just begun with Deke offering his two cents every so often, and Mack simply looking exasperated with the others, a brilliant smile spread across Jemma’s lips.
“Hey,” Daisy is the first to greet her, “sorry we’re late.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Jemma assures her immediately, stepping back to let them all in.
Fitz steps closer to greet them, but Jemma notes in concern that he has become more subdued as he says simply, “Hey.”
But, then Mack claps him on the shoulder with a, “hey Turbo”, and Daisy plucks Evelyn directly from his arms and coos, “oh my god, your baby’s adorable”, and she notices the tension in his body begin to ease.
They all gather in their cozy little living room, Daisy and Deke ending up on the floor playing with baby Evelyn (with only a few of the usual comments from Deke here and there about how weird it is that she’s his mother), and they catch up on everything as though nothing has happened.
Or, perhaps that isn’t right. It’s all still there, of course; it can’t be taken back. But, now, it’s as though what happened isn’t what’s most important anymore, that it’s been forgiven, it’s been dealt with and left in the past, and it’s been allowed time to heal.
And that feeling is prevalent throughout the day, as they sing Evelyn ‘Happy Birthday’ and have cake, as they watch her open presents (or, watch Jemma and Fitz open her presents for her), and as they celebrate the birthday of the littlest member of their family.
That’s what it is, Jemma realizes, that’s what feels different. It’s the first time that their team has come back together as more than a team, but as a family since everything that happened between all of them.
Though she’s so, so happy to have started a family of their own with Fitz, it finally feels whole now that their SHIELD family is there with them, and is able to enjoy it with them. She and Fitz have been each other’s family for almost fifteen years by now (in fact, likely since that first day she realized that he was her best friend), and for some, she’d thought that that was enough. Then, they’d joined Coulson’s team, and she’d slowly come to realize that maybe it didn’t have to just be them against the world.
But, things ended up falling apart, they left and had Evelyn, and though she loved her daughter fiercely, she didn’t – couldn’t – replace the family that they no longer had with them. Now that they’re all together, though, it is the first time that Jemma feels like nothing is missing.
She thinks then, of how far she’s come with Fitz on the journey that began all those years ago in a chem class, of how they found each other and held on tightly to one another through life’s many ups and downs. Then, somehow, they’d fallen right into a group of people just like them, who understood them, and ultimately ended up helping to build this sorted little family that surrounds them at that moment.
And today, with Evelyn now in their lives and their SHIELD family back in them as well, it’s finally complete.
Could I request a sequel to the Momma!May and Jemma wedding fic??? It was so amazing!
“Have you told him yet?” Mayasked, coming up behind Jemma and making the younger woman jump slightly, hereyes going quickly from her tablet to the specialist’s face.
“Um… no,” Jemma admitted, feelingher cheeks heat. “We got a bit distracted.” May rolled her eyes at theresponse, leaning against the counter.
“Jemma. What’s going on?”
“It was our wedding night. We hadother things on our minds,” Jemma rushed, not meeting the older woman’s gaze. “AndI’m still responsible for Elena’s care and then we’re attempting to figure outthe rift and if there’s anything we can do for Coulson and –”
“Jemma.”
“I’m… worried. About hisreaction,” Jemma confessed after a few moments of tense silence, tapping onefinger against the frame of the tablet, knowing that May would get the truthout of her sooner or later. When May didn’t say anything else, Jemma sighed,moving until she could sit down in one of the office chairs.
“What are you worried about?” thespecialist queried after a beat, watching how Jemma wrung her hands, the tabletdiscarded on the table. She hadn’t seen Jemma so insecure since after Hydra,the younger woman often withdrawn and hesitant, fear and sorrow simmeringbeneath her skin at how dismissive Fitz had been with her.
“What if he doesn’t wantchildren?” Jemma blurted, unable to stop the tears that immediately pooled inher eyes. “We… we never really talked about it. About the possibility of havinga child. I know he doesn’t hate children but after the way his father was… bothhere in reality and in the Framework I just… what if he doesn’t want this?”
“How Fitz’s father was isn’t a determinantof what Fitz is going to be like as a parent,” May started.
“I know that, but what if Fitzdoesn’t think that way? He’s… we’ve still not really had time to talk aboutwhat all happened in there. Or in space. The future. Whatever. I just… what ifhe’s not ready?” Jemma rushed, trying to wipe the tears from her face butfailing miserably, more continuing to fall with each breath she took. May movedover to her then, taking the other woman’s hands in her own.
“If I know one thing about Fitzafter all this time is that he will love anything if it has to do with you. Noone is ever ready to become a parent. Not really,” May said.
“The timing is horrible,” Jemmasighed.
“It might not be the best, but itgives you something both to fight for. Something to look forward to,” Mayinsisted, stroking over Jemma’s knuckles. “I know it seems almost impossible,but you have to talk to him about it. The only way you’re going to know how hefeels if talking. Fitz loves you more than anything. He’ll be shocked, yes, buthe’s going to be happy.” Jemma sniffed, nodding as she looked down at thefloor.
“I… maybe next week –”
“Simmons.” May’s hard tone madeJemma blush.
“Right. I… um… I should tell him.Soon. Sooner than next week.”
“Tell me what?” Fitz’s voicequeried, concern laced around the words as he came into the room, his eyesscanning Jemma’s tear stained face and flushed cheeks. May gave Jemma’s hands asqueeze before she got up, heading for the door, a soft touch against Fitz’sshoulder her only communication with him as she moved into the hallway.“Jemma?”
Jemma looked over at her husband,seeing the worry etched on his features as he moved to kneel in front of her,cupping her cheek with one hand while the other stroked her hair back and outof her face.
“I… I have something to tell you.And… and I don’t know how you’re going to react,” Jemma breathed, a fresh waveof tears overtaking her.
“Jemma, Love, what’s going on?You’re scaring me,” Fitz admitted. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“I wanted to tell you last nightbut – but I was scared. We… we haven’t talked about it and I want it Fitz, somuch. And I’m terrified that you don’t-”
“Jemma, please.”
“I’m pregnant.” She said thewords on an exhale, hiccupping the moment the were finally out. Fitz blinked upat her, mouth working but no sound coming out as he tangled his fingers in herhair, wedding band warm from his skin where it pressed against her ear.
“We’re…. we’re having a baby?” heasked, voice so hopeful that Jemma’s heart seized in her chest. She bit herlip, nodding, watching as he started to cry. Within seconds he was kissing her,laughing through tears. “We’re having a baby!”She couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, arms banding around his neck.
Deke is the last one to congratulate the couple after the ceremony.
A bottle of Zima in his hands, he looks at them from afar as all the members of the team queue up to hug them and kiss them on the cheek. Daisy especially seems to take a lot of time to offer her congratulations - she has been hugging both Fitz and Simmons at the same time for a solid minute – but Deke doesn’t mind waiting, and it’s not like he has much to say to them anyway. He doesn’t even know them, after all.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons
Characters: Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons
Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, post 5x12, post-episode, Post-Wedding, Canon Compliant, post-wedding fluff, Post-Framework Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, someone had to talk to fitz about this, no one better than his wife
Summary:
"Nothing around her felt unusual. The Lighthouse was silent at this hour, aside from the eventual cracking of the walls; the bed was comfortable enough and she felt warm under the blankets.
The only thing out of place was the lack of an equal warm body beside her."
Jemma wakes up alone in the Lighthouse the night after her wedding and gets up to find her husband, only to find him alone and defeated, consumed by his own thoughts.
