A/N: So, I wasn't going to start another story until I'd finished Glimpses, but this one caught hold of me and I had to get it out. I watched a film yesterday called 'In Fear', starring the lovely Iain De Caestecker (it really freaked me out), and it inspired me to write a Fitzsimmons fic based around the same idea of getting lost and going round and round in circles, with their situation getting creepier and creepier. If you've seen the film, you'll recognise certain elements I've taken from it.

Set in a nondescript part of England. The name 'Avonbury Woods' is made up.

Disclaimer: I don't own or have anything to do with Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., or In Fear. I am simply inspired by them.

The sun hangs low in the sky and dapples gold through the trees and onto the dusty, foliage-littered ground below, patches of light that are gently fading as the Earth tilts away from the giant, fiery star and into night.

It's peaceful here, even with the calls of the wildlife. A stream glistens as it bubbles over small rocks, and a thirsty squirrel scrabbles down the side of the shallow bank in order to drink from it, its tiny tongue lapping at the water, until it is startled and chased away by the sound of twigs snapping and the rumble of distant chatter.

"This has been the most perfect day, Fitz - I wish we could do this more often."

"It's been a while, hasn't it? Pass me the water bottle, would you?"

"Do you think we have enough samples?"

"Jemma, we - and by we, I mean you - have more than enough." Fitz takes the bottle from her hand, unscrews the cap and then sips from it. "Will we ever have an outing where you don't grab something to take back to the lab?"

"I like to analyse, you- Oh, look, a deer!" she whispers excitedly, not wanting to scare it.

Fitz rolls his eyes, but his expression is affectionate as she takes out her camera and lines up the perfect shot before pressing the shutter release. It's only the hundredth photo of a deer she's taken that day. All right, so that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but Fitz is certain that it's more than he can count on his fingers.

"She's a beauty," Jemma breathes, staring at the deer with a look of enchantment.

"Yep, a regular Bambi".

"Bambi was a stag, not a doe."

"Don't be picky, Simmons."

Jemma's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. She splutters. "It's... it's biology!"

Fitz snickers, and Jemma narrows her eyes at him and then bumps him with her shoulder. Joker.

They walk on a little further until they reach a small dirt track, and, to Fitz's relief, their rented car. His feet are killing him.

He opens the boot, and they dump their rucksacks inside and change out of their hiking boots into more comfortable footwear. The day has been extremely warm, bordering on hot, which isn't completely unheard of in late September in England, and they both sigh with relief as they free their feet and let them dangle for a minute in the cooling air as they sit on the edge of the car.

"Your shoulders are a little red," Fitz notes, as Jemma leans back on her hands.

She turns her head to inspect the one closest to him. "Oh, no," she tuts. "I've been so meticulous with reapplying the sun lotion. And you'd think with all the trees around..."

"Must have been when we stopped in that clearing for lunch. We were more exposed. How's my face?" He asks, thrusting it closer to his partner.

Jemma places a hand to his jaw and turns his head this way and that. "All fine. Although..." she runs a thumb across the tip of his right ear, "your ears are a little pink."

Fitz huffs. "Off all the bloody places. Oh, well, at least it wasn't my nose." He pulls on his trainers. "We should get going if we're to make it back to the Bus for nine."

"Yes," Jemma sighs. She quickly slips on her Chucks and then slams the boot shut. They've been working so hard, lately, and this rare, free day before they had to fly back to the base after their latest mission was a blessing. But even Coulson had needed a break, so they'd taken advantage of it to its fullest. They'd even just made it in time for dinner with Jemma's parents the night before.

Fitz opens the driver's side door, and then recoils as a wave of cloying heat washes over him. "Jesus," he says, coughing. "Give that a sec. Even I don't fancy sitting in that until the air-con kicks in. Open yours."

Jemma does, then walks round the front of the car and leans against it. The metal is warm, but thankfully not scalding, not now it isn't in direct sunlight. She idly examines a small scratch on her thigh near the edge of her shorts, which she received when she stumbled over a large tree root and fell into the trunk of it, then a shadow looms over her, and she looks up with a smile as Fitz stands between her legs and leans down to kiss her. She sighs into his mouth as she takes his face in her hands, letting him tip her backwards onto the bonnet as he hooks one hand around the back of her left knee, drawing her leg up, the other sliding into her hair.

"Do you think Bambi's watching?" Fitz murmurs against her lips, and Jemma snorts and whacks him lightly on the the arm. He grins, and then kisses her thoroughly.

He stops when his hand comes into contact with something sharp in her hair, and he opens his eyes and pulls his lips away from hers so he can inspect it further.

"Ow! What are you-"

"Sorry, sorry." He holds up what he's found. "Twig."

Jemma puts a hand to her hair, fussing with it. "Are there anymore? I thought I'd got them all."

"Nope," Fitz assures, helping her check. "That's it. Worth it, though," he adds, with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a cheeky smile.

"Mmm..." Jemma hums, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him again. "Definitely."

"You do realise we probably traumatised some wildlife with our little floor-show."

"Oh, they'll be fine."

"Want to traumatise them again?"

Jemma smacks him on the arm for a second time. She sits up a little, forcing a laughing Fitz to move back. "Weren't you just saying we had to leave now in order to get back in time?" She can't help but smirk.

Fitz sighs, and presses his forehead against hers. "Yeah. Don't want to be on the receiving end of May's wrath if she misses our take-off slot." He stands straight and pulls her up. "Still, it's not my fault I can't keep my hands off you."

"Oh, and it's mine?" Jemma questions, walking to her side of the car.

Fitz grins at her across the roof. "Well, you are looking quite irresistible today. Not that you aren't normally," he adds, quickly.

She breathes a laugh. "Nicely saved. Get in the car."

They both slide in, grateful that it's now a little cooler inside. Fitz starts the engine and turns on the air-conditioning, and they set off, turning onto the main road through the woods. The sun is a little lower now, a pale wash of colour against a sky that is slowly darkening.

Jemma opens her window and stretches her arm out, her fingers catching the last shreds of light. She closes her eyes. "I'm so relaxed."

"Well, you would be - you're not driving." Fitz steals a quick glance at her. Her beauty still takes his breath away after all this time. Her English-rose complexion is a pearlescent glow in the blue of the on-coming twilight, and she looks almost otherworldly.

"I can if you want me to."

"Don't be daft, driving on this side of the road is a novelty, now. I'm going to take advantage of it. I've missed the left."

Jemma chuckles. "As if you can miss a side of the road."

"I do!" He peers down at the GPS for a second. "'No satellite signal'. Typical."

"Well, I'm sure we won't get lost - it'll be signposted. It can't be that hard to find our way back."

"Nope, not with my keen sense of direction. Did I tell you I was a Boy Scout for a while?" Fitz asks, in a way which suggests that yes, he has.

Jemma rolls her eyes playfully. "Yes..."

The dense trees soon give way to fields, and they turn onto a bumpy, narrow lane. Fitz wrinkles his nose.

"Mmm, the smell of the countryside."

"That's nothing when you've had your nose inside a cadaver."

Fitz shudders involuntarily, grimacing. "We're still on our romantic-woodland-countryside adventure - no dead body talk. What did we say? No mission talk, no talking shop, just you, me, and the great outdoors. Plus the sample pots you snuck along. Cheeky mare."

Jemma mimes zipping her mouth shut, then leans forward to switch the radio on. "Oh!" she exclaims, happily, as the familiar strains of Blur's Country House filter through. "I haven't heard this in ages!"

"Ah, nineties Britpop. Can you believe we were seven when this came out?"

They sing along loudly, the memory of every single lyric still intact, until static interferes with the reception and turns the music into white noise. Jemma fiddles with the tuner, but can't pick the signal back up. In fact, the radio isn't picking up anything at all, on any station. She turns it off.

"Well, that was short-lived."

"Want me to have a fiddle with the aerial?"

"No," she sighs. "I guess we'll just have to talk to each other."

Fitz sticks his tongue out at her, and she laughs.

The road bends, curving this way and that for a moment before straightening back out again and leading to a T-junction. Fitz slows to a stop, peering at the sign in front of them, which is pointing left and says 'Avonbury Woods'.

"That's odd. Why is only the woods signposted?"

"Well, that's okay, we just have to go right, then."

But, as they soon find, turning right doesn't seem to be leading them to where they want to go, the trees getting thicker again.

"Fitz, where are we?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to your "Keen sense of direction"?" she teases.

Fitz pulls the car over. "Hush. There's a map in the glove box."

Jemma reaches forward and snaps it open, but there's nothing in there apart from the car manual. Eyes knitted together, she looks at him. "It's not here."

"What?" Fitz leans over and inspects the compartment for himself. "But I put it in there, I know I did."

"Hang on, I'll check the boot." Jemma opens her door and slips out, the 'door open' alarm sounding. Fitz presses the button to pop the boot, frowning to himself. He knows he put it in the glove box. He can remember quite clearly. After a few moments, Jemma's voice floats round.

"It's not here, either!"

Fitz worries his lip between his teeth as she slides back into the car and shuts the door, thankfully cutting off the annoying, repetitive dinging.

"I put it in there, Jemma, I'm absolutely certain." Fitz taps his hands against the steering wheel, agitated. He always went out prepared.

Jemma puts a hand on his wrist to calm his worry. Then her eyebrows shoot up as she has an idea. "Our phones! How could we have forgotten?" She digs hers out and unlocks it.

Fitz brightens a little. "Good old Google maps."

Signal lost. Emergency calls only.

"Oh, for goodness sake." Jemma flashes Fitz her phone screen. "No signal. Check yours."

"We're on the same network."

"Well, check anyway."

So he does, and then shows her the same message. He opens his mouth, but is quickly cut off.

"Don't!"

"What?"

"You know what. You were going to say "I told you so"."

Fitz puts his phone away. "I was not." He couldn't have said that anymore unconvincingly if he tried. He turns and leans towards her, crooking a finger under her chin to tilt it up and dropping a kiss on her lips.

Jemma smiles. "Mmm, that's much better." She slides a hand round the back of Fitz's neck and holds him there, her fingers toying with the hair at his nape as she kisses him back for a few seconds before releasing him. "We really should make a move."

"Yeah." He grins at her.

She can't help but return it, even though her eyes are questioning. "What?"

"I love you."

Jemma leans her forehead again his. "I love you, too. Now, drive."

"Yes, m'lady."

A couple of minutes go by in comfortable silence. Jemma stares up at the sky and notes the clouds that are now rolling in.

"Looks like it's going to rain."

But Fitz isn't listening. Instead, he's staring at a spot just ahead of them, looking puzzled. He slows the car to a stop again. "Jemma?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't that the track we were parked down? And I'm only asking to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me, because I know it's the same track because there's that tree you said-"

"-looks like an old wizard. But how..." Jemma starts, staring incredulously at the spot they'd left only quarter of an hour before. "Maybe... Maybe we missed a turning. It might have been hidden. You know what these country roads are like, all overgrown hedgerows and barely enough room to swing a cat."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Damn countryside."

"You were loving it, earlier."

"That was before it sent us all topsy-turvy." He presses down on the accelerator. "Let's try this again."