A/N: Hi guys! So big news - this is my fiftieth fanfiction! I had to make it a Fitz-Simmons romance. They're my OTP. This is partly inspired by the song "Broken" by lovelytheband. Anyway, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!

He hadn't moved since the last time she'd checked on him. He glanced up almost fearfully at the sound of the door, the skin around his eyes crinkling in guilt and timidity. It softened when he realized it was her. She saw him barely perceptively lean forward, his shoulders moving a fraction of an inch back from their hunched position. He kept his gaze steady on her, waiting to see what she would do. His lack of confidence was a barrier between them. This wouldn't do.

She walked over to him and silently held out her hand. Once he took it and stood she moved his hand to her waist. She saw his flicker of confusion and felt herself start to smile as she reached into her back pocket with her free hand and pulled out her phone. She opened it and selected the first song to show up on her playlist.

"Jemma – what are you…?"

She tossed the phone onto the bed and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's been too long since we had a proper dance."

"We've never had a proper dance."

He was right. She twined her fingers between his. "Then it's about time we do."

I like that you're broken; broken like me. Maybe that makes me a fool.

He waited for her to start swaying before moving, his body taut like a bow string. She applied pressure with the hand on his shoulder, rubbing it to work out those kinks. If he could just forget his troubles for a few minutes, she knew he would feel so much better. His shoulder dipped under her ministrations. She moved her hand to the back of his neck and felt the tension melt away as he let out a low, relaxed breath.

His hyper-expressive eyes were locked on her. She'd always loved that about his eyes. Whatever emotion he was feeling was so clearly written in them, especially to someone who knew what to look for. Now she could see the devotion that primarily defined them whenever he looked at her (and had for as long as she'd known him), bordered by a hesitancy that was much newer. Flashes of guilt, warring with a shine of happiness. Everything that marked him as Fitz was contained in those beautiful blue eyes.

I like that you're lonely; lonely like me. I could be lonely with you.

He was becoming more limber as the song went on, his hand more confident around her waist, his hips moving more freely as they swayed. She started moving their hands back and forth, extending their arms out and pulling them back in. The hesitancy was disappearing as he moved his hand too, equal force pushing and pulling in a rhythmic motion. He even took it a step further, and started moving side to side instead of just swaying in the same spot.

She started to smile, letting him take the lead as their movements became a dance.

Life is not a love song that we like. We're all broken pieces, floating by.

He took a step back and extended his arm, directing her with the hand at her waist. She spun out and slowly back in to his waiting arm, his other wrapped around her. They stayed tucked up close for a few breaths, her fingers gripping at his shirt. She couldn't see his eyes, but could tell from his grip that they had lost those flashes of guilt. He wouldn't hold her so tenderly otherwise.

He reached for her hands again and pushed back, their arms a bridge between them before they stepped together again. He did this a few times, studying her, and then broke the pattern with a step to the side, letting go with one hand so they stood almost in a line, their faces turned towards each other.

A laugh escaped her as she wobbled in the movement, and she saw a gleam of pride as he smiled at what he'd done; not a little upturn of his lips, but a true smile that charmed its way past his unshaven cheeks and right to his eyes. It stayed as he spun her out again, evolving into a chuckle when he pulled her back in and started again with a pattern she wasn't privy to.

She could see that he'd forgotten everything else for the moment. It wouldn't last past this dance, but she wasn't worried about that yet. She'd selected a playlist, not a single song.

She didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.

Life is not a love song; we can try to fix our broken pieces, one at a time.