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Simmons has been scarce lately in the Science lab and in SHIELD HQ. It's as if she has been elsewhere for awhile. Those on high put her on forced rest a little while after the attack during the autopsy, something she did not approve of and attempted to fight. At each turn, however, she was denied. Her clearance was pulled and only has recently been restored. Her attempts to speak her outrage to Fitz was met with pained silence. She knows when Fitz is hiding something from her and this is one of those times. It is only now that she is able to be back in the Lab that things feel on the road to normal.
However, not exactly. She is still incredibly upset at Fitz and has yet to explain this to him. The anger builds almost to rage when she starts to hear the rumors of an op that she was involved in. One that she certainly had no part in.
If possible, the sound of clinking glass is angry as Simmons starts to sort specimens in the lab. Her lab coat is pristine, she is wearing goggles and gloves, she ignores any other sounds around her.
*
Fitz has been engaging in alternative facts as of late. And, because he's not REALLY a spy, truly terrible at it. With his hands tucked into his pockets, Leo Fitz trials into the lab. The tinkle of glass catches his ears. He freezes. And then slowly begins to back out of the lab.
*
Simmons, however, hears that noise. The sound of the door opening is one for which she has actually been waiting. The quickness of her lifted face may just got to show that. "Leopold Fitz." The tone of her voice is not a yell, but there is a seriousness there that he will certainly know. She is angry. She only uses his full name when things are dire. There is nothing else, but she is almost certain that alone will stop him in his tracks.
*
And it does. He freezes. No one calls him Leopold. Barely anyone calls him Leo. Most folks just call him Fitz. He sighs heavily, and his eyes train on his feet. Suddenly his shoes are undeniably interesting, and his hands remain firmly tucked into his pockets.
*
"I was locked out of SHIELD." Simmons stands, pulling off her gloves deliberately and setting them down on her work station. "You wouldn't speak to me." Then, her goggles are raised over her face and set down on top of her gloves. "And now I hear that I was part of some form of undercover operation." Jemma crosses her arms, not approaching him, content at the moment that she was able to halt his retreat. "I believe I know something about why." There's a shake of her head, a disbelief. "Why?" It's a repeat of her same statement, but this is now a question. She believes now that Fitz had a hand in having her taken off active duty and with her clearance revoked. But, she has no idea what he would do that to her.
*
Fitz presses his hands to his forehead as the words are aimed at him. He doesn't exactly react besides having a very pained expression with each of the thoughts. His shoulders tighten considerably. His lips purse. Finally, his hands draw downwards, elongating each of the features of his face as he lowers them. "So you were safe," he finally offers as his eyes turn up to the ceiling. "Because they wanted you and we had an opportunity and so it made sense to — they don't want — " his eyes clamp shut.
*
"Safe?" Jemma Simmons' arms clutch tighter around herself as she shakes her head. This is unbelievable to her. "So, you don't deny it. You contributed to my revoked clearance? You let them keep me on forced rest?" The shaking of her head stops and she looks at him, wounded. "I thought — we're partners, Fitz. I thought you trusted me. I thought you believed me. I could have—-I could have done this. I could have helped." There's a puff of breath exhaled. "What don't they want?!"
*
"Jemma it's not — you're not — it's not like that! There was an opportunity to take advantage of a position I would've suggested you go undercover, but tracking would've been problematic, and I would have lost you." Fitz's lips purse. "I don't have anything that strong. Not the radiation, not the mechanics, nothing that could've kept up with you, but these fellows could find each other!"
*
"I could have done it!" Simmons tells Fitz with a frown. "I could go undercover!" That is debatable, actually. Simmons gets nervous about lying. "Perhaps I might have gone radio silent, but I would have returned." There's a shake of her head. The real hurt starts to make itself known. "You didn't —- you didn't talk to me. You shut me out when I needed you, Fitz."
*
"Jemma…" Fitz inhales a long slow breath. "…it wasn't like that. It wasn't radio silent. I couldn't… I can't lie to you. It's not… you were too important an asset." He emits a long sigh. "They could've made anyone else seem like a Skrull. They could've made it so that they could make anyone they wanted seem that way. You are too valuable to lose. I couldn't handle that."
*
"You know me Fitz," Simmons retorts, response immediate. "You would have known if they turned me into a Skrull. Just like I know I would have known if you weren't you. We've been together since the Academy. I trust that you'd know if it were me or not." There's a betrayed shake of her head and she takes a step back - away from Fitz and closer to her work bench. "You could have at least told me. Talked to me. I felt…I felt so alone. Like I had done something wrong."
*
"That's not it," Fitz objects. "You know that's not it. Do you think a Jemma-replacement would've kept me around long? This place wouldn't have been able to function. It would've been madness — and it wouldn't have been a stretch either. As it stands we're barely keeping things together." He frowns. The last has his eyes narrowing, "And you're right, I do know you. You never would've let me do it. You would've insisted on being the one to be put in the op. I know you."
*
That is entirely true. Simmons would have fought him, would have defied him, would have gone to the top in order to ensure someone else didn't go in her place. She wouldn't have wanted someone else to risk themselves in her name. However, she is angry and stubborn. And she feels as if she is certainly in the right on this occasion. It's difficult and dangerous territory for Fitzsimmons.
"If she was supposed to act like me, she would have to! Everyone knows that we come as a pair, that I wouldn't be able to finish my work without you." It's a hard conversation. "Yes, I would have insisted. I don't like the idea someone else put themselves at risk for me. We would have managed it! I believe that! You — you lied to me. Maybe not to my face, but by omission. I thought we were never going to lie to each other."
*
"It wasn't like anyone knew," Fitz offers in turn. "Captain Danvers is already angry about not being brought in." And the Acting Director isn't likely pleased. "It was… covert. I couldn't tell you everything. And geez, Jemma, it isn't like I kept lying. It was one op. One opportunity. And only because I do know you. And it wasn't just for you. It was for the world. For… all of us."
*
There's a quick flash of something that crosses Simmons' face. It's a mixture of something like surprise and pain and then more anger. "I see." At that, Simmons turns from Fitz to move to be behind the table. Her arms uncross and she sets them very gently and deliberately on the surface of the table. "I thought — " she stops herself, tone no longer angry. In fact, it's very even keeled. It doesn't sound much like the passionate and kind scientist that Fitz knows so well. "I understand what covert means. But, they're not—" agin, she trails off. Captain Danvers, the Acting Director? They're not her. She never expected for Fitz to do something like this to her. To take this action, to cut her out. It hurts far more than she could have imagined. "Yes. It was one op. The end results are what matter, hm? I was merely a part in it. A part that didn't work for its intended purpose." She shakes her head. "I'm glad it was a success, Fitz, truly I am. But…I feel like…I don't know. I just don't know."
*
And Fitz doesn't miss the expression. Or the ire. He emits a soft breath and presses his hands to his face. His jaw tightens. He wouldn't choose a different path. He wouldn't go a different direction and he wouldn't change his mind. But he hates that she's angry. There's a horrible sinking feeling in the centre of his chest. His heart aches. His stomach churns. He feels ill. And so, when he speaks, he is entirely sincere, "I'm sorry."
*
It's a difficult situation and one that doesn't seem to have an immediate solution. Neither of them would change their actions in the situation. However, the end results are both things they wish were different. There's a long pause after Fitz's apology. Simmons looks down at her hands without replying. Finally, she looks up and when she does, her eyes are slightly glassy, as if she is holding back tears. "I don't think you are," she tells him, voice lilting at the end. "You have to regret what you've done to be sorry."
*
There's another long pause after Simmons's assertion. Leo focuses on her at length, his own eyes feeling painful as he manages that not-at-all cool expression. He inhales a sharp breath and then replies with a vague shake of his head, "That's not true." His lips edge downwards. "I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm sorry you're unhappy. I am sorry." But no, he wouldn't change what he'd done.
*
"You're regretful," Simmons tells him. Her hands work the table, for want of something else to do. She can only look at that painful look that Fitz is giving her for so long. Despite her anger, despite her own pain, she can't stand to see Fitz's own. But, she is someone who is not going to bow to this simply because she feels bad. No, this is important and she needs to make that known. "You're not sorry. There's—-there's a difference." She takes a quick breath, an intake that seems a bit stuttered.
*
The phrase causes Leo to stiffen. He inhales a deep breath and shakes his head. "We disagree on the semantics then," because that much is true, but so is the rest of it, "as well as everything else, it seems." His chin drops to his chest and his hands clasp behind his back, and the floor becomes the most interesting object in the room. "I… I am sorry. I know you don't agree. I know you think I'm wrong in all of the ways…. but I am. I am."
*
A small breath escapes Simmons. This is a difficult situation. She can count on one hand the amount of times she and Fitz have fought. And the finger would only be one were she to count how many times a fight has been this bad. "I — I know." It takes her something to say that, to acquiesce on a subject she feels so strongly about. "It's not everything…it's just — it's just this."
*
There's another long pause that has Fitz continuing to stare at the ground. Silently, his weight shifts from one foot to the other. His shoulders tighten. His body tenses, and he inhales a long breath. "I… " his gaze finally lifts and he rubs the back of his neck, "…we're going to go around in circles." His frown deepens. "…I'll leave you to your privacy…" he takes a step back, shifting his weight again, and turning towards the door.
*
It seems as if this conversation between the two of them is the opposite of a FitzSimmons conversation. Instead of a room filled with scientific babble without a space of silence or mistrust, the two now face nothing but silence and judgement on either end. After Fitz takes a step back, she looks up at him again. She watches his retreat with a very intent look. "Maybe that's best." It's not what he wants, it's certainly not what she wants him to want. However, if he thinks that is best, perhaps that is what is best. "We'll — I'll — " she pauses. "I'll see you later, Fitz." It's certainly not the proper end to that conversation, but it is all she has.
*
And that statement is enough. "…right." Fitz turns on his heel. He pauses as he stares at the door, but he takes another long pause before treading through it. This is new territory.