Quick Note: I wrote this months ago and forgot about it, whoops.
Did you all see the bloopers and deleted scenes? FEEEEEELS.
Also, who's excited for more dubsmash battles?!
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The incessant bouncing of Fitz's physical therapy-provided stress ball against the countertop only two feet away from Jemma's microscope was increasingly getting on her nerves. Fitz had finished work twenty minutes ago, and while deadlines were flexible down in engineering, here in the lab everything was run on a strict schedule. She needed to finish observing the last stage of mitosis in the algae cell sample she'd collected from the Atlantic, and take notes on the above-average rate of cell division, but Fitz kept distracting her. Well, to be fair, Fitz was always distracting, especially while he was doing work with his hands, but this needless thumping was rattling her slide around, so she couldn't get a clear reading on any of the physical properties of the cells.
"Fitz, could you please just stop?" Jemma burst, almost tempted to steal away his toy, but knowing she wasn't coordinated enough to do so.
"I thought we were gonna have dinner in my bunk tonight," Fitz replied, as though that was explanation enough for his annoyance. He stopped tossing the ball, however, instead leaning on the counter while Jemma tried to remain focused on the algae cells.
"We will, but I need to finish my journals first. Could you fetch them from the cupboard?"
Fitz begrudgingly pushed off the counter before proceeding to drag his feet towards the glass cupboard where Jemma stowed her binders of experimental write-ups. Honestly, sometimes he felt as though Jemma put petty science before relationships. He'd seen what happened with the boys she'd dated back in their academy days. Then again, Fitz often found himself immersed in blueprints and CAD software throughout the day, and he supposed his gleeful obsession was the same thing for her.
"What if I brought dinner in here?" Fitz asked as he set down the newest binder. Jemma huffed a laugh as she effortlessly flipped to a blank page without tearing her eyes from the microscope.
"No food in the lab, Fitz," she reminded him, and Fitz glanced around the lab for something else to do so that Jemma could get her work done faster. Finding nothing to entertain himself, he turned back to her.
"What if I set up a picnic in the hall over there?" Jemma laughed before picking up a pencil and scribing something on the page beside her.
"Can we rewire the monitors to pick up Doctor Who?" Fitz tried, stepping closer to the nearest screen and beginning to analyze the sides.
"Fitz, I'd really like to be alone right now, thanks," Jemma called, her tone slightly angrier than before. Fitz hardly noticed, however, because bickering in a lab was something they'd done frequently in the past.
"C'mon, Jems, can't you take a little break?" Fitz crept up behind her and used his height advantage to lean over her shoulder, so that his mouth was rather close to her face. Jemma remained stoically staring into the lens, her pencil haphazardly scratching away at the journal.
"Bite me, Leo," Jemma replied, sounding mostly annoyed. Fitz could pick up on her the little smile spread across her face, though, and suddenly he was struck with an idea.
Fitz lowered his head from her cheek to her neck, exhaling warm air as he descended, and Jemma twitched away slightly before steadying a hand on the neck of her microscope. Then Fitz pressed his lips to her pulse point and slowly tugged the skin there between his teeth, smirking all the while. Jemma laughed lovelily, and Fitz bit down a little harder before Jemma's hands were swatting his grinning face away.
"You've got to stop taking everything so literally, Fitz," Jemma teased, and he pulled away, instead taking his place beside her, staring at the side profile of her beautiful smile. She looked away from the microscope to say, "Give me five more minutes and I'll be done here."
"I'll go make sure everything's set up, then," Fitz replied before heading towards the doors, pecking her cheek as he passed.
"Stay safe, Scottish Vampire," Jemma called as he exited, then turned towards her journal to the sound of his faint chuckle. Once she finished her report and redeposited the cells in the refrigerator, Jemma brought a hand gently to her neck, fingertips tracing over a fading red spot. As she shut off the lights and closed the door behind her, she laughed to herself.
"My Scottish Vampire."