Chapter Text
Jemma’s voice was quiet in the pre-dawn light, but it carried through the hallways just far enough to catch Fitz’s attention. He’d been sleeping at odd hours since their return with Skye, waking often to check on her, but he hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake yet, and least of all Jemma.
The gentle clip of the spoon against her tea mug provided a metronomic effect, tapping along with her voice as he peered around the mess hall entryway. She was wearing the same blouse she had the night before, and he wondered if she’d been monitoring Skye all night; in theory they all took shifts, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d insisted on staying while another agent slept. The tune was soft, and he realized at last that it was a children’s rhyme.
Her curls shone in the fluorescent glow, face shadowed, and he pressed his thumb into the center of his left palm to stop the tremor that started. Something at once cold and warm settled in the pit of his stomach while he listened to her sing, and he tried to remember if he’d ever seen her like this before. Course you haven’t, he scolded himself. It was never like this before.
"Hi."
His voice broke the peaceful spell she’d created and she jumped, a spoonful of tea splashing all over her blouse.
"Oh my God, Fitz!” For half a second, Jemma reacted to his disturbance exactly as she had for almost a decade, her tone equal parts surprise and exasperation, and he almost wanted her to reproach him solidly for sneaking up on her. But then her eyes met his face and she morphed back into new Jemma, the one who tiptoed around him like he would disintegrate before her at any second, and a sliver of resignation slid through his chest.
"S-sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you - I can…"
He reached out with both hands, intending to go for the paper towels, but she gave him a thin smile and waved him off.
"It’s alright. I’m on my way back to my bunk anyway."
"Stayed up with her all night?"
Jemma tilted her head in genuine surprise, and he almost wanted to scoff; they may not talk much these days, but he still knew her better than anyone else. Possibly even than herself.
"Actually, I was in the SSR file room again. I thought there might be something more about the obelisk, but…"
His eyes widened and a slight flush crept up the back of his neck. So much for knowing her - anymore, certainly, if he ever had at all. He really thought he had, once.
"Oh. Right. Anything…?"
"Not yet."
Fitz gave her a small smile and nod, and his thumb worked its way back into worrying at his palm. He half-turned, then tilted his head towards where she was dabbing at her blouse.
"I didn’t know you could sing." Her brows furrowed as she glanced up at him in genuine confusion, a smile teasing at her lips. "I don’t mean at karaoke or w-with the radio, y’know. Heard that plenty. Not like…" He waved his hand vaguely in her direction, and his pulse sped up as the awareness that she probably didn’t care began to consume him. She had other things to think about, important things, and he made her uncomfortable just by being here; he could see it in her eyes, and the way her lips thinned ever-so-slightly whenever she looked at him. "It was just - it was nice. That’s all."
As Jemma opened her mouth to reply, he turned abruptly away and strode into the hallway, cursing his own stupidity. She didn’t care what he thought about her singing, for God’s sake - she wasn’t doing it for him, not that she should.
He was so caught up in berating himself that he didn’t catch the small “Thank you” that came shortly after, followed by a quiet, regretful sigh.