A/N: This is an introductory chapter, or a Prologue of sorts, setting up the events which ignite the plot of this fic. The two characters which pop up here I borrowed from the Marvel's Agents of SHIELD series due to convenience. You wouldn't have to follow the show to understand this story since it's not technically a crossover. All you really have to know is that both characters are very very smart (AKA a bio-chemist and a weapons/tech engineer,) young, and simply adorkable.

PS. Many thanks to sudoku for helping to inspire this idea during one of our many enjoyable PM conversations.

Agent Hill had quickly keyed in her security code before entering one of the many laboratory workstations at SHIELD Headquarters. She finds both technicians- Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz- with heads buried in their work.

Hill clears her throat. "Dr. Simmons, Fitz," She begins with a curt nod.

They both acknowledge her with a glance upward and cordial salutations.

"I won't keep you long, but I'm here for the progress report on Project VT300."

Hill steps closer to their station to observe their scattered workspace while both Simmons and Fitz remain absorbed by their research.

"That's not the project, is it?" Maria finally asks, eyes taking in the various filled beakers amongst Simmons' microscope and the disassembled pieces of what looked like a tranquilizer gun spread before Fitz.

"Hmm?" Simmons asks distractedly. "Oh no, this is a bit of a side project actually." She mentions smiling.

Fitz abandons his former task in favor of joining the conversation. "Right, see we've been developing a chemical substance that can be used in the field, but tailored specifically for interrogations."

"Oh? What will it do?" Hill inquiries, her original duty being momentarily forgotten.

"Technically speaking, it alters how the brain reacts to aggressive stimuli by bypassing such reactions from the amygdala." Simmons explains.

Hill looks unimpressed. "And for the layman?"

"It would make hostile subjects more compliant and less temperamental toward their captors." She translates.

"Even a bit friendly, perhaps." Adds her partner.

"Well, that's still to be worked out. It's only in its early stages, so the emotional reactions have been kind of… sketchy." Simmons mumbles apologetically.

Hill shrugs a shoulder, "Ah, well either way it sounds beneficial."

"Exactly, and since Jemma decided against a gaseous form and refocused her efforts on creating an injection, I've been working on the accompanying tranq. gun."

"That reminds me," Simmons begins, turning toward Fitz, "You could probably integrate this into an arrowhead for Barton later."

"That's a…" Fitz's exclamation gets interrupted by a loud explosion from a nearby area. The shock from it jars the room, causing Simmons to shoot a hand out to still her wobbling test tubes and Maria to brace herself on a desk.

"What on earth is that, by the way?!" Simmons directs at Agent Hill.

Fitz steadies a swaying light fixture above him. "It's dreadfully disruptive and we've experienced it twice already in this wing. Jemma spilled her formula and everything."

Maria rolls her eyes at the forthcoming thought. "That's just Stark in 112 doing some sort of demo with his new tech."

"Stark's doing a tech demo in 112!" Fitz asks eagerly, practically beaming at the knowledge one of his engineering idols was showing off in the near vicinity.

"Yes, and from the explosions I gather it's either going extremely well or fairly terrible… it's hard to tell with Stark." Maria says with a wry smile.

Fitz puts down his forceps and leaps from his seat, "You don't need me right now, right Jemma?"

Simmons gives him a knowing look, but then grins, "Get to it, Leo. Go forth and drool at new tech."

"Thank you!" He says, zipping past Agent Hill without another word.

As Simmons shakes her head at her coworker's rushed exit, Agent Hill takes on a more business like tone.

"It seems I've gotten off task here. The progress report on VT300, Simmons?"

"Oh …right," She remembers absentmindingly, going back to her microscope. She waves Maria toward a tabletop to the right. "I believe Fitz moved it over there."

Several Minutes Later...

Fitz returned to the lab only to find his partner alone.

"Back so soon?" Asks Simmons.

"Yea, Stark was done with his exhibit and had already left. Then no one would let me in while they were doing clean up."

"Oh. Sorry about that."

"It's okay." Fitz says resigned, " I've got more than enough tech to keep my hands full right here."

Simmons offers him a warm smile as he passes her.

After a beat, he asks, "So I'm guessing Agent Hill got what she came in here for?"

"Mmm Hmm. She only wanted the progress report we filled out for VT300."

"Wait...WHAT!" Fitz almost shouts, his eyes bulging out.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"The folder I put over there?" He questions, motioning at the table to her right. "Because I moved that folder over there after you spilled the interrogation formula. Several pages had gotten soaked with the stuff!"

"Oh No! I splattered the very potent and non-diluted version. Fitz, she already handled the folder!" Cried Simmons as a distressed Fitz scrubs his face with his hands.

"I know, I'm sorry...I forgot to tell you it had been contaminated... I should have just destroyed it."

Simmons sighs and then takes a calming breath. "Look, we are probably over reacting anyway."

Fitz peeks at her from between his fingers. "You think?"

"Sure. I mean... I created this formula to be an injection, so it's not likely to enter her blood stream by merely soaking through pores."

"Right, you're right. And it isn't like it's lethal or anything. Plus the effects are temporary." Fitz concludes rationally.

"Exactly. Like you said before , even if by some small chance it does reach her system somehow, the least it could do is make her friendlier."

"Heh yea... what's the worst that could happen?" Fitz says with a shrug, joining Simmons in her nervous laughter.

Meanwhile...

Maria is at her desk looking through said progress report. She notices several pages are blurry around the edges as if they had gotten wet, but she dismisses this, only concerned with the legibility of the text. As she thumbs through it, she slices her finger on one of the pages.

The wound immediately gushes red and she pops it into her mouth to forestall getting a Band-Aid.

"Damn it." She mutters to herself, "I hate paper cuts."