“What about SHIELD?” she asks, and he’s grateful that she’s at last asked a question that requires and answer more than “How did you get in here?” or “Who are you?”
He glances towards Beth. She still sitting on his desk, back straight, but he can tell from the way her lips are just barely open that she’s scared.
“What about SHIELD?”
“You never went?”
“Of course not,” he says, and then, without meaning to, “My father and I–”
And she nods. "How funny is that?“ She whispers. "It’s not fair that you only get to be loved by one of us in each life. I suppose he didn’t think things through.”
He doesn’t bother to ask who. Instead he repeats his first question. "Who the hell are you?“ and it makes him sick with how much she wants to cry.
"It’s not real,” she says, for not the first time. "In the real world, a hole once opened. A portal to another planet no one new existed. And you still tied a rope around your waist and jumped straight into it, just because I might have been on the other side.“
He wants to ask "Were you?” but walks to the desk instead and says “For fuck’s sake, tell me who you are or I’m calling security.”
“Oh, Fitz,” she sighs, and his hand hovers over the call button. "Please wake up.“
"You’re crazy.” It’s the first time Beth has spoken, but the girl doesn’t look at her. She only laughs and it’s the saddest thing Leo Fitz has ever heard.
“I’m dead,” she says, half hysterical. "I’m dead here and you’re not there to care.“
He knows it sounds impossible cruel, but he feels Beth’s hand on his and, pressing the security call button, says "Why would I?”
“I’m not surprised,” she says. “You’re the first thing that ever made me want to live.”
Leo shakes his head. “I don’t know you,” he tells her. He’s done with her game.
The door opens and several security guards walk in. At first, she seems like she’ll let them escort her out.
But she fights. It surprises him, the strength with which she fights and an odd part of him, a part he doesn’t recognize thinks, “That’s my girl.”
“Fitz!” she screams. “Fitz! You have to wake up! You have to come back to me!”
The guard hits her hard and she falls. In his head, he’s screaming her name.
It’s only when they’ve carried her away that he realizes she never told him what it was.
Jemma says he doesn’t care anymore, but this is Fitz, and
Fitz always cares.
Daisy chews on her lip, mulling over all the words she could
possibly say over and over again in her head before finally choosing which ones
she feels are right.
“And you believe him?” She brings the steaming mug to her
nose and inhales the sweet smell, keeping her focus on Jemma and the knot in
her stomach that just keeps on growing.
Jemma sighs and stirs her tea absent-mindedly. “Well, I
mean. Of course he still cares, on some
level. This is Fitz, after all.” She
shakes her head and puts down the spoon, meeting Daisy’s eyes. “And I can
listen, and I can comfort. I can even make him forget it for a little while.
But I can’t know.”
Ah, Daisy thinks,
pursing her lips and taking a sip, letting the tea burn her tongue. Jemma
can’t know what it feels like. Can’t know what it’s like to grow up wanting a
father. Wanting a father even if you already have one and wanting a father even
when the one you have isn’t really one at all.
(She just wishes that she didn’t, and that Fitz didn’t
If you are still taking prompts: FS + 068: "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years"? Thank you!
AN ~ thank you so much for your consistent love, support and patience! you’re amazing @florchis and it’s an absolute pleasure to write for you! I hope you, and the rest of this poor troubled fandom, enjoy this fluff set ~10 years in the future.
FitzSimmons, Bus Kids, Rated G/light T for a little bit of mild innuendo.
“You’re working late, ma’am,” Crawford remarked, amused but not surprised. Doctor Simmons looked over at her with a similar expression.
“So are you,” she pointed out. Crawford smirked.
“Well, I don’t have an incredibly attractive and romantic husband waiting at home for me.”
Doctor Simmons blinked at her. Crawford’s smirk drooped a little.
“Sorry, I just meant - You aren’t going home? I’d have thought you and Doctor Fitz would have something special planned. It’s your anniversary today, isn’t it?”
Doctor Simmons laughed.
“Oh! No. That’s next week. And I can assure you, unless the sky is falling down I will be out of here by 5:01 on that day.”
“So what are the chances of that?” Crawford teased, and Doctor Simmons grinned.
“About fifty-fifty I’d imagine.”
“That sounds about right,” Crawford agreed. “Well, sky falling in or no I think I have to get home before my eyes droop closed on the road. Happy anniversary for next week, I guess!”
“Thanks! But, um, where did you hear that it was today? Just out of interest?”
“Oh, the Director mentioned it. You’d think she’d be right, she’s pretty close to you guys, isn’t she?” Crawford shrugged. “Guess I could have misheard.”
“Possibly,” Doctor Simmons agreed. “Although you’re right, she is close to us… and it is possible that she and my husband dearest are planning something. You may have given me a foot-up in an epic romance battle for the ages, Doctor Crawford.”
How that woman’s cogs could still be turning with such fervor at this hour, after such a long day, both inspired and baffled Agent Crawford. She smiled and nodded, her eagerness to get home outweighing her desire to unfold the leads of the trail she had apparently just set her boss on.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor,” Doctor Simmons insisted. “Good work today.”
Crawford left gratefully and Jemma Simmons cut her workday off just as it was going on ten hours, and snuck up to the Director’s office. It wasn’t really sneaking, of course; the night staff were about, and she had plenty of forms of permission to be going up there, but there was always something a little secretive and exciting about visiting Daisy’s swanky office for private reasons. And she was sure that Daisy would still be there – for work, or for helping Fitz plan out the details of a beautiful and intimate evening, she would be there.
Jemma was almost disappointed when she found out it was work. Daisy let her in nonetheless.
“What can I do ya for?” Daisy offered. “Wine?”
“No thanks, I’m driving,” Jemma waved her off. “And I probably will head off soon, but ah, Crawford told me you said it was mine and Fitz’s anniversary today?”
“Oh yeah. I ran into her after the newbies’ fitness exams. Did she wish you happy anniversary from me.”
“She did,” Jemma said. “I just thought it was a little weird, that’s all. We’re going to see each other before next week, after all.”
“What does next week have to do with anything?”
“Our anniversary. It’s next week.”
“No, it’s today.”
“No…it’s next week. Friday.”
Daisy shook her head.
“Babes. You got married on May 21st. I remember. That date is like. Burned into my brain forever.”
Jemma scoffed, but Daisy did not waver. Frown deepening, Jemma pulled her phone out of her pocket and put it on speaker.
“Jemma?” Fitz answered.
“Fitz,” Jemma greeted. “Are you at home?”
“What are you doing?”
“Am I on speaker?”
Daisy bit her lip and Jemma glared at her, and answered: “Yes.”
“Making dinner,” Fitz said – truthfully, probably, given the sound of crackling and bubbling in the background. “Why? Are you not coming home?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” Jemma explained, “just trying to get something settled. Our anniversary… it’s next Friday, right?”
“Funny thing, Daisy swears it’s today.”
“Well, she’s wrong. It’s always been the 28th.”
“Do you want to bet on that, Mr Fitz?” Daisy challenged. While Fitz and Jemma had been talking, she had been searching her photos and pulled one down from the wall of the moment after Fitz and Jemma’s first kiss as a married couple. Sunlight and confetti whirled around them and they were smiling at each other, and on the back, Jemma’s own hand had written 21st May 2018.
Fitz, of course, could not see this though, and so he accepted Daisy’s bet.
“Sure, bring it on,” he challenged. “2019, Seychelles. 2020, Paris. Then there was the year I built that bloody armchair, remember that? When was that? Ooh, 2021 we went a few days early to see the lunar eclipse. 2022 – we – hang on –“
On the other end of the line, the phone crinkled and rustled with the sound of rapidly turning pages. Then a pause. Then turned back.
“Hang on,” Fitz repeated. “I just pulled out our wedding one. Jemma, she’s right. It’s here in gigantic letters – look – one of us must have learnt calligraphy just to write this.”
Jemma’s phone buzzed, and a photograph came through of one of the scrapbook decorations, which read: 21st May 2018 in a larger, more elaborate font than on the photograph, but Jemma recognised her own hand. Still, her jaw dropped a little.
“How bizarre,” she remarked. “Why would we move it like that? Did something bad happen on the 21st?”
“I mean, probably,” Daisy remarked. “But bad things happen every other day around here, and if it was that traumatic, it probably would have come to mind.”
“Perhaps it was just more convenient that way. Can’t imagine why, now.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Fitz put in. Jemma crooned silently and Daisy pretended to gag.
“Never change, you cheesy ass,” she praised him fondly. “Besides, it’s not like the date really matters, does it? Maybe May 28th is the date you two got your Hogwarts letters, or the day you first kissed, or the day you finally got the ring fitted. Maybe Fitz just got super excited and decided to have a one-week anniversary and you stuck with it!”
“Oh, ‘Fitz’ got excited did he?”
“Well, you did,” Jemma insisted. “Which…made for a very entertaining night for me.”
“And that’s where I’m going to pull the plug on this conversation,” Daisy interrupted. “But I am going to send your wife home to you very soon, Fitz, so if you want to take advantage of finding out you have two anniversary dates now, might I suggest some candles?”
for @the-cuddleslut who shouted this prompt into the void and me, being Bus kids obsessed, heard. I hope you enjoy.
She’s had worse.
She’s had worse and she definitely
doesn’t need anyone telling her that she has a few bruised ribs and a
dislocated shoulder when she clearly knows she has a few bruised ribs and a dislocated shoulder.
if that someone is Jemma, whose voice filters in and out of Daisy’s
ears and deserves to be heard. Daisy’s shoulder burns and every breath
she takes burns but she can’t bring herself to follow Jemma and leave the hospital bed.
She can’t bring herself to leave May.
(Not ever again.)
sedated for now, lying so still and so silent, while Daisy thinks she’s
probably had enough of that. Coulson sleeps besides the bed, head
cradled in his hands and finally able to rest now that she’s back. But
Daisy can’t rest. She can’t stop staring at the woman in the bed and
Daisy herself cradling her own shoulder and trying not to grimace as
Jemma stands besides her.
“Daisy.” Jemma whispers.
“Daisy.” Jemma says.
“Daisy!” Jemma shouts, and then lowers her voice when Coulson stirs.
Daisy can’t leave May, not now, not again, not ever again. She shifts
in her seat and grinds her teeth as she reaches out and takes May’s
callous hand in her own. Yep, definitely a dislocated shoulder. But
she’s had worse than a few bruised ribs and a dislocated shoulder, and
she needs to be by May’s side when she wakes up.
It’s the least she can do, really.
In his seat, Coulson snores.
Don’t go to the doctor. Be that way.” Jemma huffs, throwing her hands
up towards the ceiling. Daisy watches out of the corner of her eye as
Jemma leaves, opening the door with force but then carefully shutting
the door behind her quietly.
Because no matter how much Jemma is furious, she won’t risk waking up Coulson.
that’s that, at least for a little while. Daisy holds May’s hand and
ignores the pain and the guilt of ignoring Jemma, and Coulson stays
asleep for the first time in weeks. It stays that way for seconds and
minutes and maybe even hours until Daisy lets go of May’s hand to lean
forward, stifling a moan, and brushing off a piece of hair that somehow
fell into May’s face. And that’s when the door opens again.
sighs, and looks towards Fitz who looks at her with such care and love
that Daisy still doesn’t know how she deserves to be looked at.
Jemma stands next to him, her arms crossed, looking at Daisy with the same exact expression.
“I can’t, Fitz.” Daisy whispers.
“Why not?” Jemma whispers back.
Daisy’s shoulder burns and every breath she takes burns.
Because she’s had it worse, but she’s never felt worse.
Because she deserves to feel the pain.
(Because she left and everyone noticed and May left and nobody did.)
because they know her so well, she doesn’t even have to say it aloud.
And she knows them so well, she knows that they feel the same.
Fitz and Jemma step towards her and Fitz touches her uninjured shoulder and Jemma takes her hand.
“Please, Daisy.” Fitz murmurs, gesturing with his head towards the door.
“We don’t want to see you hurt more than you need to.” Jemma adds, rubbing Daisy’s hand with her thumb.
blinks, and nods slightly. She gives May one last glance and gives
Coulson a quick gaze. Then she lets them help her out of the chair, and
out of the room.
She’s had it worse.
And she’s always had Fitz and Jemma to help her though it all.
so yesterday night I was texting @insomniz about hers and @cirilee‘s space pirates au, and I wrote this as a bonus scene taking place in her fic, The Golden Dawn.
I think this should be fairly easy to understand, especially if you’ve read tgd already, but basically: Fenton is a rookie soldier and Donald a First Lieutenant on the same spaceship. Daisy is the ship’s AI. This is a quiet moment taking place between Fenton and Daisy some time after chapter 1
So I totally just failed my math exam but on a brighter note you’re posts make me feel better! Can I request Daisy trying to figure which plants to buy/grow and florist Reader eventually has to help her choose. Daisy gets all flustered when Reader hands her a rose with her number when she buys the plants.
Oh darling, I’m sorry you failed your math exam. But I’m super glad my fics and things are cheering you up!
*slams fist on desk* LISTEN I’M A SUCKER FOR ANYTHING TO DO WITH FLOWERS AND I LOVE THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS SO I DECIDED TO USE THAT. Ahem, since roses are a symbol ‘love’, I decided to change it to ‘orchid’ because orchids mean ‘beautiful lady’ AND LET’S BE REAL, DAISY REALLY IS A PRETTY LADY
Prompt: jemma is pregnant and fitz leaves on a mission, and she's all worried about him, and maybe the team is trying to comfort her?
Anonymous said: Prompt: fitz is away on a mission while jemma is pregnant and she’s all worried. Then, the team (but mainly Daisy) starts coming in with all of these crazy ideas on how to make her feel better.
I felt these were pretty similar, so I ended up combining them - I hope that’s alright. Thank you for the prompts!
“How do you think she’s doing?” Mack asked in a hushed
voice, crossing his arms over his broad chest and nodding in the direction of
the kitchen. Jemma’s back was to them where she sat at the island, bent over a
tablet and seemingly quite focused on whatever was on the screen.
“How do you think you’d
be doing if you were six months pregnant and your husband had just left on a potentially dangerous mission?”
Daisy hissed back under her breath, arching her eyebrows pointedly.
Mack held up a hand to placate her, raising his eyebrows in
surprise. “Alright, alright, I get it. But, other than getting that quinjet to
turn around and bring Fitz back, what can we do?” He glanced around, but when
Coulson shrugged helplessly and May simply shook her head, he turned to Daisy.
“We need to…” Daisy pursed her lips as she thought it over,
darting a glance back over at Jemma to see her shoulders shaking just slightly.
What could possibly hold Jemma’s attention long enough to get her to stop
worrying about Fitz? “Oh! We need to come up with something really crazy that’ll keep her mind off
of the mission!”