Written for Perthshirekisses as part of TFSN's Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine event on Tumblr.
Huge thanks to RaptorLindsay, LetterToElise and AmandaRex for beta-reading and offering invaluable input at various stages of this project.

Jemma squared her shoulders and took a deep, anchoring breath before she knocked on the makeup trailer's door. Today would be different. Today would be the day Leopold Fitz started liking her. Whatever this nonsense between them was about, it had been going on for long enough.

And if he really couldn't find it in himself to at least be civil and quit antagonizing her constantly, well… she could give as good as she got.

Fitz was already seated in the makeup chair, his eyes squeezed shut and a bunch of tissues tucked into his collar as Kara liberally dusted his face with a large powder brush.

Jemma greeted Kara with a wide, genuine smile before she slid into the chair next to Fitz, schooling her features into an expression of pleasant neutrality.

"Hello, Fitz," she said in her most cordial tone, silently praising her own restraint‒ the use of his first name never failed to make his face twitch, which she found oddly entertaining. But she had committed to being the bigger person, and Jemma Simmons was no quitter.

His eyes fluttered open for a moment, briefly meeting hers in the mirror.

"Simmons," he said cautiously, his posture stiffening.

"You're quite the early bird today," she continued with a smile while mentally congratulating herself. Positive reinforcement always makes friends!

"Yes, because I definitely had a 4:30 wake up call by choice," he replied gruffly. "Is this what we're doing now?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are we gonna talk about the weather, next? Don't know about you, but it doesn't really feel like spring without the constant drizzle."

"So," Kara cleared her throat before giving Jemma an appreciative once-over. "You're looking good, Jem. I love this shade of blue on you."

Jemma beamed. "Thank you. This is one of the things I like best about this character," she said, gesturing to her button down shirt and tie, covered with a navy blue V-neck sweater. "She's valued for her brain and skills, not just her physical appearance. They didn't even ask me to drop 5 pounds, I don't know when that last happened," she added, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "And she's an actual scientist! It would be nice to be a positive role model for young girls for a change."

"So, that's why they hired a petite, classically beautiful 25-year-old for the part?" Fitz scoffed. "Because feminism?"

Jemma squinted at him. "I can't tell if you're insulting me or complimenting me."

"Neither, really," he shrugged stiffly, eyes darting away. "I'm just saying, this is Hollywood, not a suffragette movement. I think you're being a tad magnanimous, is all."

"I see," she muttered, chastened. "Sorry about that. I'll do my best to be more cynical in the future." So much for creating an amicable atmosphere on set.

"Look, Simmons," he rushed to say, his smug expression faltering. "That's not what I‒"

"We're all done, Fitz," Kara said pointedly before tearing the tissues from his shirt collar. "Be careful with your lab coat today, okay? Jiaying is going to lose it if you ruin another one with foundation stains."

"Alright, but donut frosting is still a go, yeah?" he asked innocently, pushing his Scottish brogue a few notches.

"I swear, we need to hire a child wrangler for you. How old are you again?" Kara rolled her eyes, grinning in spite of herself as Fitz made his way out of the trailer. She turned back to Jemma with a knowing look.

"Sometime soon, I'm going to get you drunk and make you spill those beans," she said, biting back an amused smile as she started working on Jemma's face.

"There are no beans to spill," Jemma replied vehemently. "Not a single one. But if you ever find out what his problem with me is, I'll be happy to pick up your tab for the night."

"I refuse to believe that," Kara tutted. "It's much more fun to live vicariously through your unsubstantiated drama."

Jemma snorted then, shaking her head. "Then I'm sorry to say you've chosen the wrong outlet. My life is desperately drama-free." She shot Kara a look that she hoped would translate to 'this conversation is over' and was thankful when the makeup artist launched into a story about a difficult actor she'd worked with recently. I suppose Grant Ward is as much of a jerk as everyone says, Jemma thought absently before allowing her mind to wander.

She couldn't figure out when or why Fitz's hostility toward her had taken root. As far as she could tell, he'd disliked her from their first audition together. It was disappointing, and frankly, quite infuriating. People usually liked her‒ she was, by all accounts, a smart, engaging woman. As far as she could remember, she'd never met anyone as contrary as Fitz, and his stubborn refusal of every offered olive branch frustrated her to no end.

Excuse me for wanting to have an amicable working relationship! Jemma thought. There's no reason we shouldn't get along famously. If anything, she should be the salty one‒ she and Fitz had both started out around the same time in the late 90's, achieving semi-stardom in the UK before they were out of their teens, but Fitz's American career was developing patently smoother than hers so far.

Cosmic Curse was her biggest project yet this side of the Atlantic, and her first foray into science-fiction, a genre she'd always felt drawn to. After years of filming low-budget indie movies and failed sitcoms, she truly believed in the pilot's chance to be ordered to series. The script kept a good balance between action, humor and world-building, and the producers seemed truly excited about the story they were telling. And on top of that she'd been dreaming about working with Victoria Hand, the show's creator, for years.

The only problem was, well, Fitz. Their characters, Abigail and Trevor, formed a duo of idealistic and quirky scientists aboard a rocket ship with world-weary and cynical space travellers. While the rest of the team explored previously undiscovered planets and fought armies of ruthless space aliens, the two of them usually stayed behind on the ship. Which meant they had to play every single scene opposite each other. With no buffer.

But we shouldn't need a buffer! I'm a perfectly nice person. Ask anyone who bothered actually talking to me!

"Is that why you haven't been listening to a word I've said, huh?" Kara's bemused smirk alerted Jemma that she had indeed voiced her thoughts aloud, and she groaned.

"Oh Kara, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just… I have a lot on my mind."

Kara smiled knowingly as she applied a light dusting of finishing powder to Jemma's face. "No worries. You two sure know how to keep things interesting around here."

On set, Fitz tended to either ignore her unless they absolutely had to interact, or gratuitously antagonize her every chance he got. This pattern of behavior was most noticeable at the pilot's wrap party. Although she would come to regret matching Daisy shot for shot the next morning, Jemma was having a great time laughing, drinking and silly-dancing. Meanwhile, Fitz was apparently determined not to acknowledge her presence in any way. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him chat animatedly with Bobbi and Hunter and tried not to feel irked that he could act so open and friendly‒ as long as she wasn't near.

Jemma and Daisy had struck an easy friendship on the first day of shooting. In essence, Daisy had walked up to her and informed her point blank they would be best friends from that moment on. She'd then launched into a sometimes hilarious, sometimes disturbing tirade about the year she'd spent living in a van after her agent had dumped her, hacking her way into castings under assumed identities to mixed results‒ while surviving on instant soup, and within minutes, Jemma would have sworn they had known each other since childhood.

Bobbi was a different story. Jemma found her so intimidating, she might have kept her distance if Daisy hadn't insisted otherwise. The most intriguing thing about her was her relationship with Hunter, who played the obligatory morally ambiguous rogue. If Jemma hadn't caught then making out outside Bobbi's trailer one evening, she would never have believed the two of them were a thing.

"Don't pick a side when they break up," Daisy warned Jemma when she caught her looking in their direction. "They always get back together, and they totally keep score."

Completing the cast was Phil Coulson, captain and de facto father of their little crew, and his right hand woman, played by Melinda May. The two of them seemed to be just as chummy off screen as they were on the show, even though their temperaments couldn't have been more different.

"She and AC go way back," Daisy told Jemma. "But whatever you do, don't ask her about her love life."

"How come you always know everything about everyone?" Jemma asked with a pout of envy.

"I have my sources," Daisy shrugged, her face splitting into a blinding grin. "Speaking of, it looks to me like there's something interesting going on between you and Broody MacFitz. Wanna tell Aunt Daisy about it?"

Jemma almost choked on her drink. "I assure you there is nothing going on between us, interesting or otherwise."

"Come on, spill," Daisy begged, elbowing her ribs. "What was it? Hook-up gone wrong? An on-set affair? Did you break his heart?" She paused to gape at Jemma with a comical expression of shock. "Oh, I bet you did, you hussy!"

"Nothing happened, I swear!"

"Why the hell not? You're both attractive and giant nerds, you look so cute together that a major studio is paying you to interact on camera, and with the hours we're working, you're each other's only shot at an active sex life for the time being. It's clearly meant to be!"

Jemma rolled her eyes. "We just‒ I don't know, rub each other the wrong way, I guess."

"Have you considered rubbing each other the right way?" Daisy asked, wiggling her eyebrows. "It might not solve all your problems, but at least you'd be working out your aggression in a mutually beneficial manner."

"Daisy!" Jemma gasped, half laughing, half scandalized. She was about to launch into a proper admonishment speech when the sound of an awkward cough made her freeze in her tracks. She didn't even need to turn to know it was him.

"Err, Simmons?" Fitz cleared his throat a second time, and even though his face was tilted down, Jemma could see it was flushed bright red. He scuffed the toe of his shoe across the carpet distractedly, and she had to strain to hear him when he mumbled, "Pictures."

"I'm sorry?"

"We're needed for pictures. They want photos of us together. For social media. Bloody Instagram," he added under his breath.

"Right. Yes. Sure. I'll‒ I'll be right there." Jemma winced before muttering, "Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure," Daisy called after her with a toothy grin.

"The readings make no sense," Trevor groaned in frustration. "And the data isn't processing as quickly as it should. Any luck on your end?"

Abigail shook her head. "Nothing yet," she admitted, biting her lip. "This is unlike anything I've seen before. I can't sequence the nucleic acids or determine the secondary structure‒"

"We're running out of time!" Trevor stressed, massaging his temple.

"I need another hour," Abigail countered, clenching her fists in frustration. "Or adequate equipment! I may be good, but I'm not a miracle worker."

"We don't have either," Trevor said urgently. "I think it's time to come up with a contingency plan."

"Trevor and Abigail lock eyes anxiously. Slow fade out of lab, end scene 7."

The director continued reading stage directions for the next scene, but Jemma barely noticed. She took a gulp of water before she glared in Fitz's direction across the table. Their eyes met briefly and he rose an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

He'd done it again. He'd changed his lines‒ just a few words here and there, but it was enough to throw her off balance. Jemma may excel at preparation, but she shouldn't have to expect surprises when it came to reading lines that were printed in black and white before her eyes. Why did he insist on making everything unnecessarily difficult?

A lot had happened in the past 8 weeks. The network had responded enthusiastically to the pilot and ordered a 13-episode series, strongly hinting that an additional 9-episode order was on the table if the ratings were good.

Everything had escalated very quickly from there. Within the next three weeks, they'd negotiated contracts, shot promotional photos‒ an awkward experience in which the photographer insisted that she and Fitz stand uncomfortably close to one another‒ and now there they were, back on set to read the script for the second episode.

The vibe was different than the pilot's‒ not as action-packed or fast-paced, but Jemma thought the writing was stronger overall. And of course, it didn't hurt that her character had more ample screen time. Unfortunately, all that time was shared with Fitz, who seemed to think he was above learning lines and doing scene prep. It was only the second time they'd seen each other since the wrap party a couple of months earlier, and already she was exasperated with his so-called work ethics, impressively short temper and incessant snacking. Still, for better or for worse, they were in this together.

Jemma let out a resigned sigh before she turned the page of her script, as she prepared to read her lines for scene 10 with exact, spiteful faithfulness to the text. She may have been determined to make their partnership work, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to do this her way.

"Jemma!" Daisy bellowed. "Hurry, it's about to start!"

"Coming," Jemma yelled back. Buzzing with nervous excitement, she poured the microwave popcorn into a bowl and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge before dashing back to the living room. "Did I miss anything?"

"Just the longest commercial break in history." Daisy glanced up from her phone. "They'll be here any minute. LA traffic," she shrugged.

The next moment, the doorbell chimed and Jemma's small living room erupted in greetings and excited chatter.

"Thank you for having us," Bobbi told Jemma as she pulled her into a tight hug. "Sorry we're so late! I swear Hunter insulted every single driver on the way‒ good thing no one can understand a word he says."

"I do. He can be pretty creative. Especially when someone enables him," Fitz deadpanned, before stage-whispering to Bobbi, "I'm never getting in a car with you again."

"You love us," Bobbi replied with feigned sweetness, ruffling the curls at the top of his head.

"It's starting," Daisy shouted. "Everybody shut up!"

They all managed to cram onto Jemma's 3-seat sofa as the opening credits rolled, clapping and cheering effusively as each of their names appeared on the screen in bold, white letters.

As the most social media savvy member of the group, Daisy had volunteered to live-tweet the premiere. She hadn't let go of her phone for hours, and kept busy entertaining viewers from the East Coast.

"SciFiNerd42 thinks you're equal parts hot and scary," she informed Bobbi.

"Oh, mate, you don't know the half of it," Hunter grinned.

In the show's first episode, their misfit crew of space travellers crash-landed on a hostile planet at the end of the galaxy. While the rest of the team rescued Bobbi's character, "Abigail" and "Trevor" teamed up to repair the ship's faulty engine, bickering and bantering the entire time.

"Hey," Daisy exclaimed, slapping Jemma's arm. "You guys have a musical theme!"

Jemma bit her lip and nodded, her eyes still on the screen. She hadn't noticed the swell of strings and synths immediately because she was too busy scrutinizing her own performance, but now it was all she could hear, and she felt a flutter of unease in her stomach.

"It's a romantic theme," Bobbi piped in, her innocent tone contrasting sharply with her mischievous smirk.

It could be interpreted as such. The executive producers had told them broadly about the overarching plot for the season, but not much in the way of developing relationships.

Craning her neck to catch Fitz's eye, Jemma asked, "Did you know about this?"

"Not a clue," Fitz muttered, the tips of his ears growing pink. "They don't really need my input when it comes to the soundtrack."

"Well, people are definitely picking up on it," Daisy provided helpfully. "They say you'd make a cute couple."

The two of them groaned in unison. But for all his faults, Jemma had to admit Fitz held a certain appeal on screen. He could even be charming, in a bashful, almost juvenile way. In real life, he was too grumpy and irritable to retain those qualities‒ with her, anyway. He seemed to be getting along just fine with everybody else.

On the screen, Bobbi‒ and her body-double‒ were now fighting alone against four evil goons in the episode's longest and most sensational action scene. As the cast clapped and hooted, Bobbi stood up and did a little bow.

"I'd like to thank my personal trainer…" she said through a wide grin.

"We're trending on Twitter!" Daisy shouted, brandishing her phone in triumph. "We did it! We're on people's radar!" she cheered, pulling them all into a slightly awkward group hug. Fitz's palm burned like fire as it made contact with Jemma's arm, but she was too happy to even think to shrug it off.