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"Two weeks isn't forever, Jemma," Fitz rolled his eyes as he checked for traffic over his shoulder and signaled his intent to change lanes.
"It might as well be!" she protested, arms crossed over her chest. "Do you know how much I could accomplish in those two weeks?" She blew out a frustrated breath and stared out the window on her side as the motorway scenery buzzed past.
"Do I ever," he muttered, reaching over to turn on the radio.
"What was that?" she asked, one eyebrow rising up in inquiry.
"I said, 'Of course I know'," Fitz groused, sparing her a glance from the road. "And it's not like I couldn't do a lot in a fortnight as well, you know."
"Oh, I know, Fitz," Jemma offered him a slightly patronizing smile and rubbed his knee briefly before turning back to the window. "It's just..."
"Just that you can't relax for more than five minutes at a time, I know," he laughed.
"That's patently untrue!" Jemma pouted, turning the radio back off again. "What about that trip to Hawaii I just took?"
Fitz's face had disbelief written all over it, and she didn't need him to turn to look at her to see it plainly. "You mean that conference in Hawaii where you presented two papers and moderated a debate?" He shook his head and cursed, casually flipping off the driver who had just cut him off. "You believe some people?" he asked rhetorically, gesturing impatiently at the Renault that was now in front of them.
Jemma pressed her lips together even as her eyes widened with the effort of not saying anything about Fitz's driving. "I'll have you know, I spent at least a full day, if not two, relaxing on the beach and working on my tan," she informed him triumphantly.
"Tan?" Fitz snorted. "And where's that then?"
Jemma straightened her back and tossed her head, opening her mouth to set him straight. Unfortunately, she caught sight of her own hands before she said anything, and they were practically the same colour as the the white cardigan she was wearing.
Not to be stymied, she forged ahead. "It's faded," she said in a voice that brooked no argument.
"Uh huh," Fitz nodded. "And I'm thinking about going back to school for a PhD in Philosophy."
Jemma smiled sweetly at him and squeezed his thigh. "Oh, congratulations, Fitz!" she enthused. "I always knew you could get as many doctorates as me!"
This time Fitz did take his eyes off the road long enough to glare at her for a moment. "Why are we friends again?" he asked before moving over to the exit lane.
"Because we're the only ones who'll put up with each other?" Jemma laughed.
He grinned back as he followed the road towards Sheffield. "Right. How could I forget?"
"Must be that feeble, single-PhD mind of yours," she teased.
"Miracle I can even operate a motor vehicle, wouldn't you say?"
"Surprised you're able to tie your shoe laces, really."
"Can't. They're velcro."
"It all makes sense now."
They eased into the kind of comfortable silence they often enjoyed together, each wrapped up in their own thoughts as the hired car wound its way towards Jemma's home.
"Two weeks," Jemma said quietly when they were a few blocks away.
"What's that?" Fitz asked, distracted by the GPS. The last time he'd been here was almost three years ago, and he hadn't been driving at the time.
"It's just," Jemma hesitated, watching his profile as he scanned the streets in front of them. "Two weeks is a long time."
"It's hardly that long," he replied absently. "Ah, there we are," he smiled at her in triumph as he spotted her street. "I knew we were close."
"Longer than we've spent apart since the Academy," Jemma shrugged, looking at her hands in her lap rather than at him.
"Which one is it?" he asked, driving slowly and peering at the doors and numbers on each house.
"That one there," Jemma pointed, strangely less excited about visiting home than she had been just that morning.
Fitz pulled into a spot across the street and pulled on the handbrake. Turning in his seat, he finally looked at her properly. "Korea," he said succinctly.
Jemma shook her head, "Ten days."
Fitz frowned. "When I was on loan to Stark?"
"Eight."
"What about your friend, what's-her-name's wedding?"
"Muriel?" Jemma laughed shortly. "Four days, but only because of time zones."
Fitz stared at her, squinting, and tried to think of another time in the last five years when they'd been apart for longer than a weekend. He couldn't.
"Two weeks?" he asked, suddenly feeling like it really was a bit long for a vacation.
Jemma nodded, quirking her lip in resignation. "Two weeks," she nodded, opening her door.
"Here," Fitz said, quickly opening his door and getting out too. "Let me help you with your things."
Jemma smiled and shook her head. "Best not," she said. "You've still a long drive ahead of you, and if you bring my bag in my mum'll insist you stay for dinner."
As if on cue, his stomach grumbled.
He pressed a hand against it and smiled back sheepishly. "Yeah, that'd be a hardship it would." He sighed melodramatically, "I'd miss out on the wonders of petrol station cuisine!"
"Oh hush," Jemma rolled her eyes as she pulled her bags out of the boot. "I packed you a sandwich and some crisps in your bag."
"You did?" he asked, face lighting up like a kid at Christmas.
"Don't I always?"
"Yeah, you do."
They stared at each other over the boot of the car for a moment, but then Jemma's mother opened the front door.
"Jemma!" she called, waving enthusiastically before calling over her shoulder to her husband to let him know their daughter was home.
"I should-" she stabbed a thumb over her shoulder, half turning away from him.
"Yeah," he nodded, still staring at her.
"Well, anyway, I hope you-"
"-nice holiday, yeah."
She turned away from him slowly and pasted a smile on her face for her parents. Hitching her bags tighter in her hands, she crossed the road, looking over her shoulder at him every few steps. He never stopped watching her leave.
"Oh, Jemma," her mother sniffed, giving her a hug. "It's so good to see you!" She waved at Fitz. "Isn't Fitz going to join us for dinner?" she asked.
Jemma sniffed in return and shook her head. "No, he has to... to go," she said, blinking her eyes and smiling wide.
"Well, aren't you going to give him a proper send off?" her mother asked.
"What do you-?"
"You know exactly what I mean." Her mother gave her the kind of significant look she hadn't given her since she was 7 years old and had tried to lie about using the good towels to mop up after an experiment. "You just go say goodbye to Fitz, and I'll bring your things inside the house."
"But-"
"He's still staring, you know."
"He is?"
"And judging by the look on your face, you're happy to hear it." She leaned down and gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek. "If it doesn't work out, you'll have two whole weeks to get past it."
Two whole weeks.
Two whole, Fitz-less weeks.
Two weeks when she wouldn't see him or tease him or laugh with him or argue with him or share ideas with him or just be quiet with him.
She was breathing quickly now and blinking even faster as her eyes prickled and her cheeks flushed.
"Right," she nodded, staying rooted to the spot.
"He won't wait forever you know," her mother observed.
Jemma knew she meant just now, that he'd get back into the car and start on his journey to Scotland, but she couldn't help but think that he wouldn't wait forever for her. For her to make up her mind. For her to stop being afraid. For her to take him up on all of the silent offers he'd made over the years without ever really expecting her to accept them.
"Oh bollocks," she said a bit desperately, and then she turned on her heel and dashed back across the street.
Fitz frowned at her as she panted in front of him, full of emotions and adrenaline and something else she couldn't quite define.
"Forget something?" he asked, confused.
She nodded and gulped, staring at his familiar face and admitting to herself that it was her favourite face in the world.
"Well, what did-?"
"This," she said, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, her face asking him a question that her voice refused to ask.
"Really?" he breathed, and his eyes gave her the answer she was looking for.
Her right hand moved up to tangle in his curls as his hands came out to rest on her waist, and then she was standing on her tiptoes and he was leaning forward and she kept her eyes open because she didn't want to miss a moment of it.
