Fitz really should've known better. He should've known better than to agree to watching this kind of movie with Skye. It wasn't just that she had her powers, because she could control them—most of the time. No, it was the genre that was a pain in his ass. Not a romantic comedy as one might think, because after living with Simmons for so long, he'd learned to appreciate some of them. No, it was a horror movie. Really, best idea ever.

Not only did he not like them in general, more often than not they bored him to tears. Or, well, in this particular case, to sleep. People always had to trip, people always had to make out in weird places where some creep was most likely watching them from a dark corner. Most of the characters seemed to have had the common sense knocked out of them when they were kids.

But of course, he'd said yes when Skye had asked him, all giddy excitement and pleading eyes. She deserved a break, and well, if watching something that made you a little scared of the dark—for, like, five minutes, of course—would make her happy, he'd do it. He was such a big sap sometimes.

At first it had been just the two of them, but as Skye was turning off all the lights and closing the blinds "to get the full experience", people had begun filtering in. Actually, he noticed that the only team members still working were Bobbi and Jemma. Coulson had simply walked in, slumped on the couch and exclaimed, "The arm needs rest!", and no one had dared to comment. May had joined them soon after and had promptly put in a DVD while the others had been arguing over which one to choose.

And so now a group of adults were sitting in a dark room with a horror movie on and about a thousand pillows and blankets strewn about, and Fitz was asleep.

To be fair, he'd really made an effort. The movie—something with ouija boards—wasn't that bad; the main character was likeable if a bit naive, the actors were good. However, Skye had made one terrible mistake: she'd forbidden him from making sarcastic comments. That really took the fun out of the whole thing.

So he had kinda played the Grinch and sat there grumbling, which had earned him a couple of Skye's pillows to the face. Soon after, however, his eyes had drooped closed and, well—he'd let them.

He really should've known better.

Fitz shot up in alarm when a scream suddenly pierced the air. Still sitting beside him, Skye had nearly melted into the couch and was sporting a look of amused terror on her face—if there even was such a look. He could feel something begin to shake on the couch, quickly realising it was the bowl of popcorn. Before he could do something, the bowl sort of exploded, kernels of popcorn flying everywhere, but mostly on him.

"Skye!" he exclaimed, more out of surprise than anything else, and Skye paused the movie.

"Sorry! But really, Fitz, you were asleep. I had to do something!"

He scowled. "So you just thought, 'Oh, why don't I use my powers on this helpless human'?!"

She shot him an exasperated look. "Fitz, I'm supposed to tell you when you're overreacting, remember? Well, you're doing it. And besides," she continued before he could argue, "I didn't use my powers on you, I used them on corn."

Fitz opened his mouth to reply, but again she beat him to the punch. "And what's more, you have been the worst pretend horror movie fan tonight. In fact," she drove on loudly, which had Fitz rolling his eyes, "you're not allowed to sit next to me anymore. Trip, kindly switch places with Fitz."

Fitz scoffed loudly, which made everyone around them snigger. Traitors. He grabbed what was left of the bowl with whatever popcorn remained and stalked over to the other side of the room, which in the end, turned out not to be such a bad thing, as he now had a whole couch to himself.

And maybe he couldn't help but soften slightly when Trip dropped down beside Skye with a blinding smile to match her bashful one. Goddamn sap.

"I can't believe you banished Fitz, Skye. That's cold," Hunter interjected, placing a mock-comforting hand on the engineer's shoulder. Fitz played along and nodded emphatically. "Our friendship is definitely under caution right now."

Skye actually stuck her tongue out at him and plucked a kernel of popcorn off the couch, eating it with a sly grin.

Fitz narrowed his eyes at her. "My Uncle Patrick was right. Girls are not to be trusted."

A familiar voice coming from the doorway startled him momentarily. "Really, Fitz? Your Uncle Pat always seemed to rather like me," Jemma countered, smiling brightly at him, her features illuminated by the light in the hallway.

Fitz forgot to reply as he was too occupied taking her in—definitely not staring, how dare you. With that soft, golden light on her she practically glowed and he had to physically shake himself out of his reverie. It was clear that the feelings he'd had for her in those months leading up to the med pod had returned in full force and with a vengeance; ever since they'd been on good terms again and he'd stopped repressing the stirrings in his chest.

"That's because you're Tiny. I think you could trick anyone into liking you," Lance replied, while Fitz still had his mute button on.

Jemma scowled at her fellow Brit, taking offence to the word 'trick'. Mack jumped in before she could respond. "Please, let that one slide, before he goes off on another 'all women are tricksters' rant," his voice was almost pleading, and Fitz pondered that he'd probably been subjected to those rants more times than anyone could count. And he'd probably listened to all of them. He was once again struck by how such a large man seemed to have a matching big heart.

"But all women are—"

Hunter quickly shut up when May turned around and gave him a warning glance.

Jemma grinned and gestured toward the TV, where a girl was currently mid-scream. "What are you guys watching?"

"It's Ouija. This evil ghost made a girl hang herself and now her friends are attempting to contact the ghost, which we all know is a horrible idea. The chair just moved on its own," Coulson supplied, and she just noticed the Director reclining in a La-Z-Boy next to May.

"It's just about to get good. Sit, Jemma, join us!" Skye encouraged her, nodding her head towards the empty spot beside Fitz. He resisted the urge to scramble upright to fix his appalling posture, as Jemma had often planted her foot on his back in the past to warn him about his possibly deteriorating bone structure while watching movies. "You can sit next to Fitz, who I banned from sitting next to me because he was being Grumpy," she added in an attempt at a dismissive tone.

Jemma plopped down next to him and nudged him with her elbow. "Did she veto the sarcasm?"

Fitz' smile instantly grew larger. Sometimes he marvelled at how well this woman knew him. "Yes, and you know that's the only enjoyment I get out of these films."

She nodded in agreement, grabbing a blanket and draping it over the both of them, before whispering conspiratorially, "You can relay any and all comments to me. Now hand me some popcorn, please."

Out of the corner of his eye, Fitz could see Trip laughing quietly at the gag reflex Skye was feigning, and he shot another glare her way for good measure. May looked around the room once more and then decided everyone were calm enough to resume the movie.

Despite Fitz' plan to call out every horror cliché, soon he found that watching Jemma watch this film was much more enjoyable than speaking. She had the tendency to disappear entirely into the plot, much like Skye did, but maybe a bit more low-key. She'd gasp and duck her head at times, but she rarely screamed, though she'd left a number of bruises on his arm from gripping it so hard.

The group was sitting at the table with the ouija board again when he managed to tear his eyes away from Jemma, and were they really going to summon that evil spirit again? Only this time they had some magic glasses with them so they'd be able to see it? Fitz sighed inwardly, but a few seconds later, he froze when Jemma scooted closer to him so that she was now pressed up against him, and there she was again, gripping his arm.

The brown-haired girl on screen was now putting the glasses on, ready to scan the room. Skye and Hunter were throwing warnings at the screen from behind their pillow ("You cow, you're going to unleash hell on all of you!" "No no no no no, just no!") while Trip and Mack were daring to look up with their heads down. Jemma was making distressed sounds beside him as she started shaking his arm.

As the magic glasses went around the room, Fitz braced himself for the inevitable scare. As soon as a demon-like face of a child flashed on screen, Skye screamed again, which made Jemma jump forward, nearly into his lap. She was curled up into a ball and around him and he was momentarily at a loss what to do. When he looked across the room, he could see Skye had done one better and had straight up spread herself across Trip's lap, her head tucked into his side. Well, she had never been one to beat around the bush.

"Is it gone?" came Jemma's muffled question after a few seconds, and at his affirmative response, she turned her head to the screen, just when a rather terrifying-looking hellbeast-slash-woman appeared taking up the entire TV, roaring furiously. This time, Jemma's and Skye's screams were a perfect harmony and Hunter had thrown his pillow at the screen. Jemma burrowed herself even closer against him—he could get used to that. He tentatively put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed a bit. The group of friends finally had the sense to get the hell out of that house, effectively making the tension dissipate for the time being. Coulson exhaled and stated matter-of-factly, "So that was pretty gross. I like this movie."

The girls rose up from their hiding positions; Skye nudged Trip's shoulder with a defiant grin when he sat there laughing at her and Jemma scrunched up her nose again in a self-deprecating manner, squeezing his arm lightly. "Thanks for shielding me, Fitz. Never was too fond of ghosts."

"No problem," he replied easily, shooting her a teasing smile. "Even though we actually faced one in real life and he ended up being a tortured soul loving a girl from afar. Way from afar."

She giggled cutely, and then he realised that maybe the words 'loving a girl from afar' hit just a bit too close to home. He hoped she didn't notice the deer-in-headlights expression on his face, but to his delight, she was too busy rearranging herself to sit closer to him—abandoning all pretence of being on opposite sides of the couch.

Before too long, the group of teenagers on screen were looking for trouble again. Jemma's eyes were glued to the screen as she reached for the bowl of popcorn. Her fingers brushed his and she smiled brightly at him and sometimes, he loved it when his life was a cliché. (That wasn't some kind of spark he felt, right? Because that stuff was just not possible in real life.)

He was pretty much a goner after that, his mind running a mile a minute as he kept glancing at Jemma beside him. Apparently, he had also lost all sense of discreetness, because at one point Mack actually cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look.

The final act of the movie was soon upon them and he feared that his arm would be bruised again the next day as a result of Jemma squeezing his arm. People had been killed and creepy old women had appeared, but to end their ordeal, the two remaining girls had to destroy a corpse. Fitz thought that Jemma would be able to handle that, but just like he had forgotten how to not be smitten with her, she had seemingly forgotten she had come across corpses more times than he cared to mention.

The climatic moments of the film were accompanied by the girls' screaming match and Hunter's string of curses, and maybe Fitz would be deaf the next day, too, because Jemma was screaming right into his ear because her head was tucked against his shoulder and her arm had wrapped around his waist as if she was trying to brace herself. But Fitz wasn't complaining because he was too busy collecting his courage. If Skye could be brave (even if she was the queen of being obvious), then so could he. He was going to get the girl. Or, you know, at least try.

On screen, the two girls return home and the tension was once again leaving the room. Jemma relaxed against him and exhaled; Coulson and May sounded like they were quietly discussing the movie already.

As the credits started to roll, the room seemed to awaken: someone turned the lights on and the spell broke. Skye sighed happily and proclaimed proudly, "This was a great idea! We should do this every month, you guys, as a way to boost morale. I enjoyed it."

"I bet you did," Fitz couldn't help but blurt out, and if looks could kill, the engineer would've been dust on the floor. Trip chuckled lightly and Fitz could see him shoot a wink at Skye. Hell, as far as Fitz was concerned, she could be grateful to him and his sarcastic comments.

Coulson picked up his jacket from the armrest of the La-Z-Boy and swung it over his shoulder. "Well, I certainly had a good time. Thanks, Skye."

May sent her a knowing grin when she passed by. "We'll see about next month."

Meanwhile, Fitz had been picking up popcorn from the couch in the slowest possible manner, hanging around while Jemma put the room back in order with Trip and Mack. He had to seize the moment. This was the perfect transition—now or never.

Trip, once again being ever so perceptive, picked up on Fitz' stalling and glances and lured Mack away from Simmons by proposing they lock up the garage for the night. The engineer could tell Mack saw right through that as his eyes fell upon his fumbling friend, and both men clapped him on the back as they left. Seriously, guys, be more subtle. Those two had way too fun teasing him.

Skye slipped out of the room as well and when Jemma turned around to face him, he just dove right in. Now or never.

"Jemma?" he began, quickly realising he was probably looking at her a bit intensely, and he immediately tried to make his face more neutral—and failed.

"Would you maybe... like to—uh, see a movie with me sometime? You know, alone... With dinner first?"

He hoped his eyes conveyed what he struggled to put into words. Even though Fitz could facepalm himself for that excellent butchering of asking someone out, he looked at his best friend expectantly, putting his hands in his pockets and trying not to shuffle his feet.

Jemma bit her lip and he tried to keep his nerves at bay. Oh God, she was going to say no, she was going to—

But then she smiled hesitantly and he could have sworn that she was blushing.

"Are you... asking me out?"

In spite of himself, Fitz chuckled. "Yeah, maybe that wasn't all that clear," he admitted, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

Her smile only grew when she saw how bashful he looked, having shifted his gaze from her to the ground. She stepped closer and touched his forearm, making him look up at her. "I'd love to."

The smile he gave her then was radiant and he rubbed at his neck, hoping to stop the blush from taking him over as well. "Really?"

"Of course, Fitz," she assured him, her eyes shining.

"Great," he managed to say, still not believing she was saying yes.

"Great," she agreed, "Tomorrow night?"

He could do nothing but nod vehemently and she scrunched up her nose in that cute way he loved. "Just let me know when and where, okay?"

"I will. Tomorrow, yes. Alright."

"Alright," she concluded, before leaning in to kiss his cheek. Butterflies erupted in his stomach and for once he was glad when Skye came running by, asking Jemma to come help her with something. Now that he thought about it, maybe that hadn't been so coincidental after all.

Just before rounding the corner, Jemma turned her head and shot him another brilliant smile, and Fitz thanked the heavens that horror movies existed.

Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea after all.