Chapter Text
Unusual bustling in the Academy hallway outside distracted Fitz and Jemma their psychically linked concentration. Their heads rose from their most recent invention in unison, foreheads creasing at the commotion.
“They’ve proven Arthur Aaron’s work!”
“The New York Times just published an article on Mandy Len Catron’s essay.”
Jemma stood first, crossing her arms, and Fitz soon followed her motions while the same thought passed through their minds. Since when were seemingly famous names celebrated in any S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Academy hallway—not to mention within their own department, that neither Fitz nor Jemma had heard of?
By the time she had reached the door frame and flattened her back to the adjacent wall, she realized the complete unnecessary foolishness that her tiptoeing had been—no one could hear over the ruffling of newspapers and laptop clicks.
Nevertheless she felt Fitz sneaking up behind her. His towering height over her soon dropped two inches, forcing Jemma to smirk at his copied tip-toe. The pair curved around the door frame to listen in on the chatter.
“It suggests that romantic intimacy can be achieved and accelerated by having them ask each other a specific series of personal questions. Thirty-Six to be exact.”
“Accelerated intimacy?” One male student gave his friend a friendly slap. “Sign me up! I’m all for getting to the sex sooner.”
“Anything that gets me out of the long-drawn out process of wooing women, man!”
While Fitz glued his cheek to the doorframe, Jemma rolled her eyes and dropped her shoulders. She turned back to their work in the lab and regretted any time wasted to psychological nonsense.
“Hey!” A female student’s voice called out. “We should make Fitzsimmons test the New York Times’ new theory.”
Jemma’s head spun around. Her jaw dropped. Fitz unstuck his cheek from the side of the door, and flipped over to replace Jemma’s position, straightening his backside against the wall.
For the first time since the excitement, the hallway fell silent. Paper ruffles and laptop clicks came to a halt as every student looked up at the announcement.
“Fitzsimmons?” another female student chimed in. “I thought we gave up that experiment. If they haven’t fallen for each other by now…”
“All the more reason!” the first male student responded. “Guys, come on. It’s a win-win. Either Fitzsimmons proves The New York Times wrong—which they will love, or they finally fall for each other—which we will love. It’s a stupid psychological experiment. Whatever could go wrong?”
Jemma heard Fitz pounding his head against the wall and mistakenly confused it for the throbbing inside her own head. Once she realized its source, she sunk into the nearest chair.
“Well, there’s the matter of actually getting them to agree to do it,” the female student offered.
“Nah,” someone else responded. “That’s easy.”
“Really?”
“How?” The male’s friend asked. “We’re just going to lock them up in a classroom and say, ‘Hey, we know how much you guys love testing hypotheses out. Try this one!’ I mean, that’s ridiculous!”
“No, no it’s not.” The male student started down the hallway towards the classroom where Fitz and Jemma had claimed as their personal favorite a year ago. “That—my friend—is your first stroke of genius!”
Squirming around the room didn’t help Fitz and Jemma escape it. They knew they were doomed, for if they left the room, they would surely be caught and if they stayed they would be locked in until further notice, forced to test a theory they wanted nothing with.
Before they could decide in which direction to run—or hide—the looming voice appeared before them. “Fitzsimmons. Isn’t so nice that you two are always together? Your predictability makes all of our lives just that much easier.”
“Milton,” Jemma said his name as if dragging it through the mud. “Come on. Don’t do this. This is ridiculous.”
“No, Jemma.” He approached his ex-girlfriend and extended the article for her to take. “As I’m sure you heard me say in the hall, this experiment is not ridiculous—it’s a stroke of genius. Perhaps so much so that even the two of you can’t figure it out.”
Jemma’s eyes turned to slits. “So this is…what? Punishment for breaking up with you?”
“Punishment?” Milton pulled back in confusion. “Honey, I’m doing you a favor.” He reached for Jemma’s forearm and forced the article in her palm. She gave him a piecing stare. “All thirty-six questions are written within the article.” He pointed up. “Remember there’s a video camera in all academy classrooms recording video without audio—” He glanced at Fitz, who crossed his arms and shook his head in disgust. “—I know we’re all torn up about it…my point being we’ll know if you’re actually doing the experiment or not and when to let you out.” Milton smirked as he looked from Fitz to Jemma. “Happy love-experimenting, Fitzsimmons.”
Without any more dramatic flare, Milton left the room and locked the door behind him. Slowly, Fitz and Jemma’s eye lines met—anger in one and mortification in the other—as they realized the article in Jemma’s hand might be scientifically proven to change their relationship forever.
Thud.
Jemma’s grey hair whipped around her as she turned to look for the source of the noise. She hated being in their Scottish cottage’s old attic alone. If only Fitz were here, but of course some things she had to do alone—gathering items for his birthday present was just one of those things.
Her gaze darted around the wooden boards, still searching for whatever had dropped and cursing herself for forgetting her glasses downstairs (and the fact that she needed glasses at all). An old framed newspaper article on the floor caught her attention, and she reached for it, bringing the text closer until it came into view.
The 36 Questions That Lead To Love
Jemma’s heart swelled in her chest. She sunk her back into one of the attic’s pillars and let her hand brush over the dusted glass.
For a day permanently etched in her memory, she couldn’t remember the last time she had thought about being locked up in that room with Fitz by…what was his name again? She shook her head. It didn’t matter.
All that mattered were the answers that followed and the fact that after that day, their lives were never the same.