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She’s out of the office and running down the hallway before anyone can say a word. Agents clear a path, jumping out of her way as she sprints for the hanger doors. She’s got to see Fitz in person. She heard his voice and could see him on the screen but she needed to know for sure he was safe. Needed to feel for herself that he was breathing and his heart was beating and know that there was a very secure door between him and those things that were trying to attack him. Those things! He could have been turned into one of those things. She rounds the last corner, nearly mowing down the agent Fitz just barely managed to drag to safety as he clutched at the wall, being very, very sick.
She sees Fitz. He’s propped up against the hanger door, breathing heavily but otherwise appears fine. A fact that doesn’t stop her from throwing herself on to him, arms wrapping tightly around him, as she loses all her composure completely in favor of sobbing into his neck.
His arms encircle her slowly and he pulls her into him. His rapidly beating heart eventually slows down, as does hers. She pulls away enough to see his face and new tears start falling from her eyes because he looks so scared and he shudders with every scream and groan that travels through the hanger door.
Those are agents. Their colleagues and friends. And he had tried to help them but only managed to keep the one man safe.
She leans forward to pepper his face with kisses and whisper reassurances in his ear that he had done everything he could and how proud she was for how brave he had acted. He nods and she knows it’s just to placate her because she’s done the same thing a million times.
She gives him a sad smile and presses a kiss to his lips before pulling back and looking him over once more. There is still too much tension so she tries to break it. “Is this your way of getting out of Seychelles, because we can pick somewhere else if you’re so opposed,” Jemma watched a smile inch its way across his face, “or have you already got somewhere in mind, I’m sure you do, you being the romantic one and all, what is it, Paris, Venice-“
He leaned forward and cut her off with a kiss, clutching her as though his life depended on it.
They had almost been separated again. But she had made good on her promise. She wouldn’t let it happen again. Not ever, she thought as she sank into his embrace.
When they’ve finally broken apart, both gasping for air once more, he looks her in the eye holding her gaze until he can speak. “When does the next plane for Seychelles leave?”
She grins back at him. It’s terribly inappropriate timing wise but she knows she can’t waste another moment so the words spill from her lips, in their simplest and purest form so he’d know with certainty that she means it. “I love you.”
He looks shocked for the briefest of moments. Just a second of disbelief before his entire face lights up because he can surely see it, how much she means it, how much he means to her and oh how her heart races when she can see it mirrored back at her. His feelings running just as strong and deep. Then he says it, “I love you too.”