Chapter Text
Jemma raised a bunch of flowers and inhaled their delicate scent with a smile. Lilies were her absolute favorites, and she always made sure there was an entire row of the various types at the front of her shop.
It was a Friday, and Fridays meant pulling rose petals for the weekend brides to scatter along their isles. Melinda from SHIELD Weddings came by every afternoon like this and picked up the shipments, usually bringing cash payment along with her. Until then, it was bunches of flowers for anniversaries, birthdays, lovers, and all sorts of reasons. Usually, nobody would step foot inside her shop until the afternoon hours, so when a man with sleeves tattooed up and down his arms rang the bell opening the door, her head shot from her work so fast she nearly toppled back off her stool.
“Hello?” she asked hurriedly, brushing baby hairs from her forehead as she stood, making sure not to step on the half-full box before her.
“Hi. ‘m Fitz.” Jemma smiled and stuck out a hand, and he grasped it with a calloused grip.
“Hi. Jemma.” Taking her hand back, she gave him a warm smile and asked, “So what are you looking for?”
“Oh, I’m not looking for anything. I just moved in next door. I run a tattoo shop,” he said, pushing his hands in his pockets and shifting a little bit. Oh my god he’s cute- no Jemma. No. “I just thought I’d stop in and say hello.”
“Oh, hello then!” she beamed. “I’m just getting the wedding shipments ready,” she said, settling back down on the stool. “There’s another stool over there if you’d like to join me.” Casually, she sat back down and hoped he wouldn’t notice the blush coloring her cheeks. He nodded and pulled over the chair, grabbing a flower and delicately tugging off the petals.
“So how long have you been a tattoo artist?” she asked as she started on a new flower.
“About five years,” he replied. “I dual-majored engineering and art a bit back, and a couple people told me they’d like my designs on their bodies. So I built my own needles, practiced on oranges, and did enough on my own to earn the money to get the shop a couple weeks back. Just moved in to the loft above yesterday, and my permit to legally open my shop should show up in a half week or so.” She nodded slowly, tugging off the last petal and setting the stem in the growing pile beside her. “How about you? How’d you end up with the shop?” She smiled and ran her fingers over another flower.
“Nothing very interesting, I’m afraid. I have parents who live out a while from here. They’ve always grown flowers and have a little shop set up outside the house, but since there was a freeway built recently, nobody really stops by anymore. I’d just finished my biochemistry major and was looking for a job, and since they need somewhere to sell them, I borrowed a bit of money from them and set up here. I get shipments every morning, and send them some formulas I cook to speed the flower growth sometimes.”
“So when’d you move to Sheffield?” she asked. “You’re from Scotland, right?”
“Yeah. Accent and all kind of gives it away,” he replied with a smile. “Moved here about a year and a half ago to apprentice to one of the tattoo parlors across the city.” A smile curled up the edge of his lips as he glanced up from the flower, and Jemma felt the sudden need to shake herself. You literally just met him, and odds are he is not boyfriend material- her eyes flicked over his sleeves and she couldn’t help but admire the intricacy of them before physically shaking his head and turning back to the petals falling from her fingers. They worked in silence for a second, and as Fitz finished his most recent flower he glanced at the clock.
“I should probably head out- it’s almost noon,” he said, putting down his last stem and standing, hands running nervously down the front of his jeans. “Can I ask- um, where’s a good place to eat around here?” Jemma smiled warmly and put down her own half-picked flower, turning on her seat to face him.
“There’s a good sandwich place around the corner. I’ll be heading there in a bit, if you’d like to, um-” she said, suddenly blushing with her eyes fixed on the ground, “-if you’d like to join me, that is.” When she looked up, a smile was nervously creeping up on his lips.
“I’d like that, yeah.” Something about the look on his face made her wonder if he’d been just as lonely as she was. You’re just projecting. “Maybe we could talk more? I just have to make sure the rest of my stuff isn’t coming until later and lock up.” Jemma nodded, smile on her face, which suddenly flashed to a momentary panic.
“Oh, wait!” At near light-speed, she rushed around the room, pulling together a bundle of wisteria, starwort, and gloxinia and tying it with some ribbon around the base of the stems and handing it to him, half-breathless.
“Here. Consider it a house-warming present.” He looked down at the purple-and-white blossoms in what seemed like shock, glancing between the petals and her eyes and she hoped he couldn’t see the color on her cheeks.
“Oh. Wow. Th-thank you,” he stuttered, still glancing between the florist and the gift pressed in his hands. In a half-second of realization, Jemma noticed her hands were half-clasped on his still, and quickly withdrew.
“So I’ll come back here when I’m done, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The smile on her face when he awkwardly waved goodbye was too large to be logical.