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“Leopold James Fitz!” Crap. Even through the long hallway of the Shield dormitory, Jemma’s sharp and angry voice cut through the closed door of Fitz's room. Maybe if he had taken a P.E. class instead of all those engineering courses, he’d have a chance. But now, he couldn’t outrun the madness coming for him. Heavy footsteps pounded the floor as Fitz frantically looked for a place to hide. Three loud, piercing knocks echoed through his doorway.
“Aye?” he asked timidly, knowing she was only knocking as a warning.
“Fitz, if you don’t open this door right this instant, I’m going to barge in there and drag you out!” Jemma, known for her calm demeanor, was at her wit’s end. Fitz may have pushed her too far today.
Jemma had been working on her late-night projects in their lab when a screeching sound pierced her ears. Starting softly at first, it quickly built to a loud, unbearable pitch that forced her to cover her ears and destroy the source. After examining the remains, she knew it was Fitz’s handiwork.
The door opened to a crack, Fitz’s face peeking through. Jemma gave him no time to respond.
“What is this?” Jemma held up a tangled mess of wires and circuits, glaring at him.
“Uh, it’s an alarm clock,” Fitz stammered, plastering on a fake smile. “You were talking ‘bout needing one, so I made it.”
“One that goes off at two in the morning?” Jemma’s scowl was harsh against her usually kind face.
“Well, I don’t know when you sleep!”
“Fitz!”
They stared into each other's eyes. One filled with fear (and maybe a little love), the other with the look of a murderer. Their tense moment was interrupted by another screeching sound from down the hall.
“How many more are there?” Jemma asked cautiously.
“Loads.”
They broke into a sprint, racing to find all the alarm clocks before the faculty found out.
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Fitz went down to their lab that afternoon, starving for the sandwich Jemma had asked him to try: prosciutto, mozzarella, and a hint of pesto aioli. As he swung the fridge door open, a small container next to his sandwich caught his eye. His curiosity turned to disgust as he opened it and a foul smell hit him. Inside was a small, pinkish-grey lump. He immediately closed it and put it back.
“EW JEMMA! What’s in the fridge?!”
“Oh, don’t be such a wuss, Fitz. It’s a cat liver. I needed a place to store it.”
“Did you need to put it next to my lunch of all places?”
“Yes, consider it payback for your earlier prank,” Jemma said smugly.
“Oh, it’s on.”
fin.