It feels strange that our adventure comes to an official end next year. What I loved most about the show was that it felt like a family. Sometimes difficult and painful to handle, but always bringing us back to somewhere or something that felt like a shred of normalcy. Starting this blog seemed like a no brainer, I remember being so thrilled to see these two brilliant characters be a central part of the show, and the show time and time again showed that not all problems can be solved by punching walls or speaking diplomatically. Science and pushing the limitations of technology to serve others was also at the forefront.
But I loved that outside the show a family was created too. The entire cast, and not just the main actors all felt apart of this family. And they shared with us their talents behind the scenes throughout the whole way. Watching everyone’s Instagram stories and Twitter posts about the ending of filming on the show was so bittersweet. We were there all along. These people who I’ve rarely had an interaction with felt familiar.
I think the saddest thing about the ending of the show is the way the community will slowly dry up. With no new content, there won’t be much reason to be here after next year. And that deeply perturbs me as I have enjoyed the entire time I’ve run this blog, despite being a little quiet this past year. I remember when I excitedly made this blog because believing in Fitzsimmons spoke to my love of curiosity. And I’m glad that I’ve leaned into that this whole way.
I hope to keep this running for as long as I can, but if you’d like to reach out to me on other forms of social media, I can be found at:
Fitz knocked on the window of the toolshed before poking his head in the doorway. "You okay?"
Jemma, seated on the edge of a counter with her elbows on her knees and a frown on her face, glanced up, surprised. "What? Oh, yes, I'm fine."
"Your da sent me to check you'd not accidentally cut your hand off with a saw or something."
"As opposed to unaccidentally cutting it off?" Jemma snapped, then shook her head and scrubbed at her cheeks. "Sorry. I'm just a bit on edge. Needed a moment alone, away from everyone."
Fitz, who'd been halfway across the tiny shed with the purpose of comforting her, halted and pivoted away a bit, unsure. "Oh. Then I'll just --"
"Not you, silly," Jemma sighed, grabbing his cuff and drawing him to her. "I can still have a moment alone with you around."
Fitz's eyebrows shot up in mock offense. "Wow, glad to know my girlfriend doesn't even notice me anymore."
"You know what I mean," she grumbled, chucking a few half-hearted punches at his middle before wrapping her arms around him. "I can still be at ease when you're there."
Fitz smiled into her hair. "I do know what you mean."
Hey there, @jemannesimms I was your Fitzsimmons Secret Santa. Sorry about it not being fully comeplete but the last few months have been crazy (finishing school, anxiety about having a brain bleed, traveling etc) but I really hope you enjoy this first part. Also, this is unbeta-ed so all mistakes are my own. Happy Holidays!!
Summary: Jemma and Fitz get snowed in at a hotel where they were attending a science convention for the weekend when someone gets murdered. Now they are stuck in a hotel with a murderer and they are on the case.
Fitz stared out the window, frowning. Outside angry winds howled blowing gusts of snow around like clouds of dust and shaking the window frame with such force he wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered the glass. He hadn’t witnessed a storm this bad since he was a young boy.
“I don’t think it’s letting up anytime soon.” He mentioned, turning to Jemma who was finishing packing the rest of their belongings away.
“Then we’ll have a well deserved hot cuppa when we get back then.” Jemma grunted, struggling with the massive suitcase on the bed in front of her. She let out a sigh. “Fitz, would you mind helping me with this?”
Fitz wandered over to his work associate and girlfriend, holding the bag down as Jemma guided the zipper along. “There,” she said once the zipper had clicked into place. “Ready to check out!”
She swung a few bags over her shoulder, letting out a breath before hauling the massive bag up by the handle, before waiting for Fitz to gather up the various bags of equipment and gadgets before heading into the hall.
The pair had been spending the weekend in a hotel high on the mountaintop for a science convention both had speaking engagements at. The event had gone off without a hitch and the scenery up there was breathtakingly beautiful but both of them couldn’t wait to get back to their cozy apartment in the city. Although Jemma had to admit she would miss the peace and quiet.
When the double doors of the elevator parted at the main floor the lobby was unusually packed. People who clearly attended the convention gathered in groups along with their luggage and snowboarders and skiers all bundled up with their gear in hand. Even people waiting for their tables to be cleared at the hotels restaurant gathered around where the lobby met the restaurant.
“Excuse me,” Jemma asked, walking up to a brunette who was leaving the front desk, a snowboard tucked between her arm and goggles pushed to the top of her head. “Do you happen to know what’s going on? We were about to check out but –”
“Yeah, you won’t be doing that anytime soon. The road’s been shut down because of this crazy blizzard. No one in or out until it’s all cleared up. I’ve been told they’re working on it as fast as they can.” She rolled her eyes.
“Thank you –”
“Daisy.” She shifted her board to her other arm, reaching her free hand towards Jemma. “But the rest of my team call me Quake.” She finished with a laugh, looking over to the group all clad in winter gear hanging off to one side engaged in what appeared to be a quite comical conversation.
“Well, I won’t detain you then. Thanks again Daisy!” The two women exchanged parting smiles before Daisy reshifted her board and turned away to rejoin her friends and Jemma went off to find Fitz, who had made himself comfortable on one of the nearby sofas to wait for her.
“I have good news and bad news.” Jemma said, sitting down next to Fitz on the rather hard sofa.”Bad news, you were right.” Jemma barely paused to take in Fitz’s expression. “The blizzard has blocked up the roads. Good news, it shouldn’t take too long until it’s all cleared up and we’ll be on our merry way. Back home before–” The power shut off then, leaving the lobby in utter blackness. “Dark.” Jemma finished.
Panic rose throughout the crowd, the voice of someone, probably the manager of the hotel, broke through trying to calm everyone down but the overlapping harried conversations drowned them out. Fitz and Jemma got to their feet making their way over to the voice as their eyes adjusted to the dimness.
“Uh, excuse me,” Fitz began, getting the manager’s attention. “Would I be able to check out the power box. I’m an engineer and could probably suss out the issue here.”
“And there’s no need to worry. I’ll do my best to calm everyone down in the meantime.” Jemma added. She instinctively placed her hand on the small of Fitz’s back, assuring him as much as the manager that things would be taken care of in their absence.
With a nod, that Jemma and Fitz could just make out, the manager left with Fitz down a nearby hall.
Once alone Jemma told the gathered group that her extremely talented and intelligent engineer boyfriend was on the case. It was only a few minutes until the lights flickered back on.
“Ah, see extremely talented and intelligent.” Jemma beamed. A sigh of relief went through the crowd.
Fitz came back down the hall, looking proud of himself. “It was only an unplugged wire. Simple.” He said, a small crooked grin on his face. “A toddler could do it.”
Suddenly a scream erupted from somewhere in the crowd and Fitz’s grin fell as he and Jemma quickly weaved through the people. As they got closer to the source of the sound they could see a man laying on the ground near the staircase, his neck kinked to one side and his arms and legs splayed out at odd angles. Ignoring whispers of if he had been pushed or had fallen passed through those that were nearby Jemma pushed through, breathlessly explaining she was a doctor, to assess his condition.
“He died from asphyxiation,” Jemma said, kneeling beside the man as she examined the black and blue marks around his neck.
She got back to her feet, a grim look cast over her face as she surveyed the many scared people around her. “This man wasn’t pushed neither did he fall.” She paused, gathering as much composure as she could. “He was murdered.”
“Like what?” Fitz asked innocently, though his hand slipped a bit on his pool cue as Jemma bent over the table, the neck of her shirt draping obligingly open.
Her strike was true, sending two of the striped balls into a pocket, bringing her tied with Fitz. She smiled in satisfaction – people always forgot that thought Fitz was an engineer, she herself had on occasion out-performed him in physics seminars and examinations – and sidled over to him, accepting the glass he’d been holding for her. “Like you want to ravish me on the felt.”
She gave him credit – he didn’t choke on his beer, though his cheeks flushed prettily. “Is it that obvious?”
“Well, probably only to me. And probably only because I was projecting.”
Fitz shook his head, not following.
“I was thinking about ravishing you,” Jemma explained patiently. “Go on, then, your turn.”
As she’d expected, he missed his next shot, rather badly.
“I should know better than to play with you,” he muttered.
“All’s fair in foreplay,” she said cheerily.
\\“Jemma,” he groaned, for well on the sixth time that weekend, as she sauntered over to make her next move.
It was her extended family’s last night in Perthshire, so everyone of legal age had gathered at the nearby pub – nearby being a half hour drive, in this case; it was the countryside – for a last hurrah. The adults were at a table in the corner, snorting into their drinks at Uncle Robbie’s pantomimes, which were even more elaborate and absurd than normal, even though he as designated driver was drinking only soda water.
Jemma’d promised herself she’d be good, sitting on the other side of the table from Fitz, tucking her feet under the seat so she couldn’t find his to play footsie, focusing on speaking with her aunt rather than becoming hypnotized by the way Fitz’s jawline stood out sharper as he chewed on the free corn nuts. But the tight, loud, raucous, friendly atmosphere of the bar and the heady warmth of the ale she was drinking quickly put her inhibitions at risk. She couldn’t stop glancing at Fitz, her eyes drawn to him even amidst the ample goings-on around them. Her fingers tingled, wanting to spider across the table to him; she kept licking her lips, wondering what he’d taste like tonight, maybe of wheat and hops with an undertone of lime and salt.
Eventually, it’d been nearly too much, and she’d needed to distract herself from drinking and from her failing efforts to play it cool. She’d put the notion of billiards out to the table at large, to maintain appearances, but the adults waved them off.
Now, with them both well towards tipsy and prowling around the pool table, brimming with competitiveness and denied desire and the strain of the clandestine, the tiny bit of Jemma still capable of worry wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to remain at the table with the others, or perhaps to have taken a walk to clear their heads.
Mostly, though, she was alight with the reality of playing and flirting and drinking with her gorgeous, brilliant, cocky, easily-embarrassed, secret boyfriend.
Jemma eked out the win in the end, only using her breasts and sticking out her bum to distract Fitz a few times. She’d never have done it with anyone else, having too much pride in her abilities and a need to prove herself, but Fitz already knew she was damn intelligent and manipulating him a bit wouldn’t change that. Besides, she thought, as she brushed behind him as he set up a shot and saw the back of his neck redden, she didn’t think he minded that much.
As agreed before the start of the game, Fitz, as the loser, bought them both shots. They linked elbows and threw back the gin, which they chased with a local, fruity soda.
“Wish we could go to a movie theater or something,” Fitz sighed as they lounged at the bar, letting other patrons use the pool table for a bit.
“Mmm?” Jemma traced the condensation on the wood of the bar, pretending to be watching the game but really studying the curve from his forehead to his eyebrow, down his cheek, into his lips— “Is there something good out? One of those superhero summer hits?”
“What? Oh—” Fitz blushed again; she really enjoyed making that happen. Her loosened animal brain wondered if his cock and balls would show the same rapidity of blood flow. “I didn’t actually mean – I just thought, where do kids go when they’re trying to snog but can’t do it in front of their parents? And that’d be the movies.”
“There really is nothing out here,” Jemma agreed grimly. “I love it, don’t get me wrong, I’ve always thought you and I could—” Now it was her turn to blush, and she quickly shook her head and avoided Fitz’s searching gaze. “Point is, it’s lovely here, wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, but it’s all fields and trees and wide open spaces with nowhere to be alone.”
Fitz glanced towards the corner, checking that the adults were still fully involved in their conversation, and shifted on the bar stool so his body was mostly obscuring Jemma’s. He slipped his hand over the surface of the bar and under hers, stroking her palm with his fingertips.
“Just another week,” he murmured, eyes focused on the billiards game, though they didn’t move to follow the action, just sort of rested there abstractly. “In another week we’ll be back at Sci-Ops.”
“Alone at last,” Jemma concurred. Following his lead, she slid her free hand into her lap, then over onto his knee and up his thigh. The hand on hers on the bar convulsed at the tracing touches. “One more week.”
Jemma’d been trying to get a rise out of him, letting her fingers drift closer over his jeans towards the crotch, making his leg twitch, but despite the inebriation his gaze was steady, soulful, hungry but controlled. If she was getting a rise out of anyone, touching him like this, it was herself – her chest was getting strangely tight and there was an insistent narrowing of her thoughts and sensations.
“Excuse me, I have to use the loo,” she squeaked suddenly, not trusting herself to stay there a moment longer, and she hopped off the stool and dove through the crowd to the washroom in the corner, hoping Fitz wouldn’t be too put out.
The ladies’ was blessedly empty, so she sat for a moment on a closed toilet, practicing the meditation techniques she’d never really mastered as she stared at the faded red stall door, before she got up and wiped her face down with a wet paper towel. She was as bad as a stereotypical horny teenage boy, for goodness’s sake. She’d always needed porn of some sort, before, to get her going, but now just being near Fitz seemed to be enough. She wondered if she’d be able, from now on, to get herself off just by closing her eyes and imagining his touch—
She glanced at the empty stalls again, considering. It certainly wasn’t the most sanitary of places to masturbate, and she’d have to be quiet in case anyone came in, but she couldn’t very well do it back at the cottage, and it was becoming a rather pressing issue. (Not for the first time, she was glad female arousal didn’t reveal itself quite so… prominently.)
The main door swung open, but Jemma’s initial frustrated disappointment was swept aside as Fitz strode in, as if drawn by her long-distance pheromone call for relief.
“Fitz!” she hissed, suppressing her spike in arousal as he entered in favor of focusing on what was clearly the more important question at hand, “what the hell, this is the ladies’!”
He didn’t answer, but rather strode to her in a few steps, grasped her about the waist, and spun her up against the door, lining their bodies up completely. He flipped the latch next to her hip, locking the door, and brushed her hair from her shoulder so he could mouth at her collarbone. “You were saying?”
She gasped, pure heat rushing from his lips on her skin to her lower abdomen. Satisfied at their privacy, and frankly unable to care about anything but the man against her, she grabbed his face in both hands and dragged him to her, desperate for his kisses.
He did taste of lime, and salt, and gin, now, and Jemma lapped into his mouth a bit messily, chasing the flavors of Fitz. Perhaps it really was best for everyone if they kept their relationship private; this sort of kissing wouldn’t ever be appropriate in public, and she couldn’t imagine kissing him in any other way, she wanted him so badly. Kissing him was just like teasing him at billiards, or their never-ending academic rivalry, or arguments over favorites from their various television obsessions: heated, affectionate, all-in; the moment one of them gained the upper hand, the other would come up with some new, nibbling at the inside of lips or licking the roof of a mouth or drawing away so the other had to chase.
“You know,” Jemma panted, on one such of the latter occasions, dipping her head out of the way so Fitz ended up moaning against her ear in frustration, “this puts me in mind of something I saw on a show once—“
“This is what you want to talk about now?” he growled, stepping his feet outward so his legs bracketed hers.
“I think you’ll find it informative,” she promised, pressing her hips forward so she could feel his erection. Her breath hitched, and she heard Fitz inhale as well; they both glanced down, mesmerized by the contact. Jemma began to swivel her hips, almost imperceptibly, as she went on. “As I was saying, in this show, this man and this woman were engaging in a compelling flirtation, and they were at a bar, separately, and the woman went to the bathroom and the man came in, dropped to his knees, and went down on her, just like that.”
“Went down, as in—”
“Ate her out,” Jemma murmured, letting her hips fall back against the door so Fitz’s stuttered forward in loss. “Licked her until she came. Just like that. Right there in the bathroom.”
Fitz mumbled something hoarsely and dove back in to kiss her. “Do you want me to do that, Jemma?” he whispered, pupils blown wide, obviously getting hard from the idea of licking her pussy. “The door’s locked, after all.”
There was nothing Jemma could imagine wanting – needing – more, at that moment, but someone banged against the door, calling drunkenly for them to open it.
“You’re sweet,” she sighed, kissing Fitz hard, three times quickly. “But we’ve already been in here too long. You run along and I’ll just… take care of things myself. But I’ll hope you’ll keep it in \\mind,” she added, and she slid her hand between his legs and palmed him through his jeans. “For next time.”
“I’ll keep it in mind alright,” Fitz said faintly, stepping back to let her out as he unlocked the door. A woman pushed in, not even noting the presence of a man in the ladies’ as she hurried to urinate. “I’ll keep it in mind tonight, as I’m wanking in the shower. Bloody hell.”
“Good.” Jemma glanced through the open door, but the Simmons party wasn’t in view. She snuck a last bite at his earlobe. “Give you some time to brainstorm. I’ll do the same.”
Fitz grinned at her like a dopey, lovesick dog in heat and backed out of the restroom, tugging his t-shirt down over his crotch.
