Leo Fitz Gets Lucky

July 22, 2015:

Felicity Smoak and Leo Fitz take their relationship to the next level, in an epic Marvel-DC TV crossover of nerd-dome, complete with a work-appropriate fade to black before things get real saucy.

Smoak's Pad


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

It has been a whirlwind of things for Felicity and for Fitz in the past few days. While dates have been few and far between, the pair of geeks have decided to hunker down in Felicity's apartment for the time being and relax while they can. There hasn't been much planned other than take out and possibly watching something on Netflix. It may just be good to get some downtime in a safe space for the two of them.

While Felicity has normally done herself up right for their dinner dates, tonight she's a bit more subdued. Always fashion forward, her skirt is short and a bright blue that matches her eyes, her top is a white and has a triangular keyhole right at her chest. Her glasses are on, but her hair is down and slightly curled. She's ready for an evening in.


As is usual, Fitz isn't allowed to speak of his work. As a member of Operation: Wand, there are only three people aware of what he's been up to; Director Fury, Agent May, and to a lesser degree, Jemma Simmons. To say the least, he's been putting in some serious OT.

When Leo shows up, he is barely past punctual; two minutes late, but May has trained him well. His predilections carry over into his personal life, so when he comes in, complete with a goodie bag (that was clearly acquired at a liquor store), he's a bit flushed.

"Liss! Sorry I'm late. There was a delay on both the N and the Q, so I got - oh, you look nice."

Blushing, the young Engineer walks over, smiling warmly at Felicity. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a short sleeved, vintage collared shirt, he clearly made time to change after 'clocking out'.

Sitting down, he leans over to place a hand on Felicity's cheek before kissing her. "Do you have any idea how splendid it is to see you? Agent May has me pulling doubles. And she's present, which makes it all the more dreadful."


Felicity is used to working with people whose idea of punctual is a bit more flexible than Fitz's is. Two minutes late is not at all bad to the blonde woman and she smiles as he sits down and kisses her.

"It's fine. There's been construction on that line; it's been the bane of my career lately. I'm just glad we got a chance to get together without worrying about work!" She's had her own bits of insanity that she can't talk to with him, strangely enough. Helping Oliver Queen with whatever it is he is getting himself into and promising not to talk to anyone about that has been a strain on Felicity's predilection to spill beans.

"Oo, what did you bring? And, you know, all these stories about Agent May and I'm going to think she's made up, Leo. I'm not sure anyone could be quite as terrifying as you've made her out to be." If only she knew. "I've been having to work overtime at work, too. The CEO is trying to make me his personal assistant and it's just a mess."


"Blimey," answers Fitz. "Does he plan to pay you for doing two jobs? Doubt it! America, I swear. Back in Scotland, we respect our employees. Mostly."

Talk of Agent May has him smirking. "She's like that drill sergeant from Full Metal Jacket, only replace all the 'you're a fairy, Private Pyle' with a quiet stare that means 'you really messed up, big time.'"

Fitz reaches over to set down the bag. Something within the brown paper bag clinks on the coffee table. "Open it."

Expecting the worst, he drapes an arm around Felicity's shoulder and smirks, knowingly.


"I think he's thinking I'll be an assistant instead of an IT person, to which I told him I have a degree from MIT and I'm nobody's assistant. I think he took a bit of offense to that." Felicity sighs and rolls her eyes.

At the clink in front of her, she grins and takes the bag to open it. "Well, silence is always terrifying." She tends to talk far too much to compensate for it. "So, maybe she is as bad as you say." Or not bad, so much as scary.

The bag falls away and a bottle of expensive Scotch is revealed. Her eyes widen. "Leo!" she gasps, pulling it up by the neck to inspect it. "This much have cost you a fortune." She leans back into his arm and grins. "Obviously, we're drinking this tonight."


"Bollocks." It's a simple answer to Felicity's work woes, but it speaks volumes. "She's actually quite amazing. I trust her with my life, and I think - well, I hope she feels the same. The silence is really more intimidating than anything else. She's… good. Like, the perfect SHIELD agent. Straight out of the bloody handbook."

With the bag revealed, Fitz grins widely. "Well, no. I mean, no. OT is time and a half, even in SHIELD. Plus, I've racked up loads of hazard pay, and I -" A pause, an awkward one, but it's short lived. "I kinda wanted it to be special. S'why I brought it here."


"I meant scary. All your stories make her seem scary," Felicity tells Fitz with a grin. She's teasing. She knows that he thinks that world of May. And of his SHIELD team. She doesn't know anything about WAND, but she'll assume it all is similar. "My handbook tends to have a lot of acronyms and ways to reboot systems, so I'm hoping she's not out of that one."

Grinning, she puts the bottle back down on the coffee table and stands up. "Well, a special occasion means special glasses!" she declares. Moving to the kitchen, she picks up two nice crystal cut tumblers. Putting them down on the table, she blushes a bit. "I've never used them. They're apparently my fathers. I took them from Vegas when I moved here. So, now it'll be special for both of us." His special booze, her special glasses.

Sitting back down next to Fitz, she leans over for a gently kiss. "Thank you. This was really thoughtful."


Fitz is halfway through the process of uncorking the scotch - it's an elaborate process for something so expensive and not quite unlike an Apple product unboxing - when Felicity returns with her father's stemware. His mood shifts at this, from his usual boyish grin to something far more meaningful. The significance is not lost on him.

"I, uh… you're welcome."

Off comes the cork at last, and he pours them each a small measure, no ice. "Have you had scotch before?" he asks. "Don't shoot it. You sip, and enjoy. Irish whiskey is for shooting."

He raises the glass next, offering a toast. "To… uh… to us, then, awright?"


Felicity smiles when she sees the change in Fitz's expression. While she didn't want to make a big deal out of this, she is glad he realizes the significance her bringing these out tonight for his special scotch.

Delicately, she picks up her glass and then moves the glass forward to gently knock it against his. The crystal 'pings' in a loud and clear resonant sound - it is clearly well made. Coming from a family where she was raised by a single mother who waitressed double shifts, there was a very specific reason neither of them pawned these glasses in the hard times. "To us, yes."

Taking his advice, she doesn't shoot the whiskey, she takes a small sip of it and coughs a bit. Clearly, the answer is no, she has not had scotch before. "It's…phew, it's strong!"


At the fine sound, Leo's eyebrows shoot upward. Impressive, most impressive!

Following suit, the Scottish lad, born and raised, takes a small sip from his own glass. His response is quite different, for he was far from a novice scotch drinker, but the flavor is nearly overwhelming at first. The after touch, though… that's where the money is.

"… Bloody hell, that is fantastic!"

The glass is perched then upon his knee. He'd loaded her Netflix with a couple of options, but the idea is suddenly and quietly set aside. "Tell me more about your pa?" he asks.


Felicity is not Scottish. As far as she knows she doesn't have any Scottish blood in her veins. But, she'll keep drinking the Scotch that Fitz brought! She'll try at the very least. Putting the glass on her knee, much like he does, she thinks a bit as his question.

"Honestly, I don't know much about him." She says, sighing. "He left when I was just a kid." Leaning back against him, she looks at the Netflix screen as she thinks. "We used to build things together: computers, machines. He was always pushing me to learn more. It's because of him I got into programming. And MIT." A head leans against his shoulder. "I don't know why he left. He was…" she frowns. "He was the one that knew me better. We could talk about stuff. All my mother ever cared about was who I was dating or what I was wearing." The disdain is clear in her voice. "The two of us never had anything in common."

Unlike, it's clear, she and her father - she thinks. With that ringing clear, she takes another small sip of scotch, still coughing as she does so. "Wow. Man, this is strong."


Hearing Felicity speak of her father paints a vivid picture, while also shedding light on some of his girlfriend's mystery. An eyebrow hooks upward, though, when she speaks of her mother with veiled disdain. It also prompts him to consider his own upbringing, a thing that, he realizes, is not often dwelled upon.

With a rueful smirk, he lifts his glass again and puts the accent on thick. "She'll put the hair on ye chest, even if ya be a striking lass!" Another sip is taken, sans cough. Like we said, he's experienced.

The humorous tone fades though, and with his free arm, he draws the woman a bit closer. "I never knew my father," he admits. "Mum never spoke of him, told me to put it out of my mind. So, yeah… I never asked. Mum was great though. Not at all scientifically motivated, but she encouraged me. Helped me study, hounded the damn schools until they put me in the right programs. Regular class was, uh… well, it was…"

He doesn't want to be rude.

"Not working." He looks down toward Felicity's face with a soft smile. "I bet your mum would've been happy to see you develop a fine career as a casino cigarette girl."


Her family history is something that Felicity does not often bring up. It's a thing that is just there, unto itself. Most people don't ask her about her parents and she doesn't bring them up for obvious reasons. Perhaps she should have realized that bringing out her father's glasses would bring in this line of questioning, but it still strikes a chord in her.

The thicker accent is met with a bit of a giggle and she takes that hand that isn't holding her glass and reaches out to take Fitz's. Then, her voice turns more serious. "I'm sorry you never knew your father. Sometimes, I wish I didn't know mine. Then I wouldn't have to wonder why he left me. Why he never came back." She sighs. It's hard to talk about, even now.

As for her mother, she frowns. Her mother worked double shifts to put her into MIT. Even with her scholarships, it wasn't a free ride. "My mother worked to put me into college," she says, begrudgingly admitting that. "But…she never really understood me. And she would have been happy if I just stayed in Vegas and been a waitress."

Fitz's classes, though, she smiles. "Well, those teachers didn't know what they were doing. Because you're a genius, Leopold Fitz. And if it was the kids, well, kids are jerks." She had her fair share of bullies.


Fingers entwine with Felicity's, and Leo smirks. "Sometimes I wonder, but… what if he was some kind of drunken bastart? Mum's probably right, if she told me not to ask, you know?"

Yet when she opens up further about her father, Fitz frowns. He feels for her; sadness for her plight, anger at the man for hurting her. So, his fingers tighten just so, and he sets his glass down so that he might wrap an arm around her chest, holding her more closely. It would probably be easier if they were lying down,or something.

Fortunately, the whole casino girl thing is a safe derailment. "Ach. I can see it now, you'd look great in a sparkly leotard and fishnets."

The compliment has him blushing. Blushing fiercely.


"Of course." Felicity agrees with Fitz, she's not about to argue that he should try and seek out his father if he doesn't want to. That's not her place and, after all, maybe she could have attempted to seek out hers after all this time. She's a hacker and a damn good one. She could probably have found him by now if she truly wanted to look for him. But, she hasn't.

As Fitz puts his arm around her, she puts her own glass on the coffee table, not wishing to waste good Scotch, even if it is is pretty strong for her. She smiles, tilting her chin up at him as he does so, grateful for his kind happy presence there.

The derailment is taken with a grin and she picks her head up, looking at Fitz as he blushes so fiercely at his picturing her in fishnets. "Can you now?" she laughs, picking herself upward just a little so she can move him just slightly. "Normally, I'm the one making off color commentary that has people blushing," she tells him with a smile. Then, she moves in for a kiss.


By comparison, Leopold has the assets of SHIELD at his disposal, and he hasn't sought out his father. Sometimes, it's best to let sleepingdogs lie.

Expensive scotch is also very good at getting one tipsy quickly, without hastening one into mad drunkenness off one glass. When she rails on him, the blushing gets even more pronounced. Curse that Scottish, pasty complexion! "Uh, well I -"

His words are cut off when she kisses him. It's just another kiss. They've shared plenty after all, but what Leo doesn't expect is the rush of emotion that comes with it. They were more open and honest with each other moments ago than they ever have been, and it has an effect on him.

Leo is about to just let it end, but he doesn't. He shifts, pulling her closer while scooting back on the couch, and keeps kissing her. At first it's one or two, but then he… just finds that he can't stop.


Which must be what Felicity has thought as well. With both of their abilities to get into the nitty gritty of identity and people, it seems either of them could have found their fathers now if they truly wished to. It's perhaps best that they didn't or haven't attempted.

It's rare that Felicity is able to tease someone else about being unable to finish sentences or put their foot in their mouth about making inappropriate comments. This is something that she's enjoying now. Though she's no superhero, no person that needs to hide their identity, it's rare that she actually talks about her past to other people. But,she trusts Fitz. And more than that, she wants to tell him things about her and for him to know who she is.

There's no complaint when he doesn't stop kissing her. In fact, she wraps her arms around him, feeling confident from both the few sips of scotch and their talk. "You know," she says, breathily, pulling back for only a moment. "You should probably stay." Pause. "The night." Pause. "That is. Here. In my bed."


When Felicity pulls away, she will likely notice that there is a slight trembling in Leo's legs, and he's just a tad breathless. He looks for her eyes, finding them right there, and reaches over to lift the glasses from her face, so that he might really see her eyes. That's when he noticed how much deeper they were than he'd expected; a sign that she has a soul deeper than her bantering persona might suggest.

What causes him to stammer isn't inexperience, a stereotype that could easily have been placed upon a guy like Fitz. Rather, it's a unique sort of fear. He's been tangled up in some intense operations, but to date, he hasn't made any real enemies. He doesn't have an arch nemesis. That could some day change, and he knows quite well that if he opens this door, he opens Felicity to those same risks.

"You, I mean, it… you have a bed, of course, and…"

Then, he thinks of Agent May. Of Coulson. Of Bobbi and Barton, and allof the other agents who's job it often is to protect his arse while conducting his technological wizardry. They'd protect her too.

"… and you're sure you're not a telepath?"

He slides out from beneath her, grabbing her by the hands and with a sudden and quite unavoidable eagerness drags her toward the one room in her apartment he hasn't yet seen.

"Cause that would mean I have to put you on a list."

He kicks open the door.

"We have lists for that, you know."

His leg strikes the bed, and he falls back onto it, without missing a beat.

"Very, uh, large… long… lists."


Felicity allows Fitz to take her glasses off. She blinks a few times to refocus. While her eyesight is not terrible, it does take her a few moments to reconcile the sharply in focus Fitz with blurrier one she's now face to face with. At the eye contact, she smiles at him, a hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder.

Felicity doesn't have quite the same qualms as Fitz. She knows one or two vigilantes, but she's not really involved with them other than keeping their secret. She's an IT woman at Queen Consolidated, helping out at STAR Labs. She's not a spy or a member of a secret organization. "I do," she grins. "I have a bed and everything. "

As for the telepath bit, she raises her eyebrows and then laughs. "No. I'm not a telepath. Not that I've been able to tell. And, believe me, if I were able to read some people's thoughts, I have a feeling I'd be in a lot more trouble than I'm usually in."

As he leads her toward her bedroom, she keeps close to him, making it that much more difficult for him, though it's nice and fun. "Really? Long lists of telepaths?" She grins and when he falls back onto the bed, she gently moves to fall right next to him, pulling him over for a kiss.


"Something like that."

There's a very real chance that Fitz might have actually spilled the beans about The List, but fortunately, he's distracted by lips. And legs. And all of those things that move to the forefront when a relationship decides to involve beds.

Pulled over, the Scot accepts Felicity's kiss, answering in turn. He lifts a hand to touch her face, kissing her again, this one lingering longer than before.

Warmer than usual, he slips fingers back and into her hair, gently pulling her forward by the base of her head so that she can't easily pull away from this one. Lips part, and his tongue sneaks out to tease at her lips and whatever he might find beyond.

Another arm slides beneath, wrapping around her shoulder and holding her there. Seeking a rhythm, he doesn't pull away, he just wants to keep kissing her, to get closer.


Perhaps later Felicity will bring up the The List, but for now she just files it away, much like many other things in her life. For now she's focused much more on Fitz himself than his - let's face it - shady organization.

There's a grin that Fitz kisses into as the adjust themselves on top of her bed. Her arms wrap around him and as his hands wrap into her hair and then pull her upward into his kiss, she certainly does not move to get away.

"Well," she tells him with a smirk, kissing him in between her words. "If I were a telepath, you'd sure be blushing a lot more right about now." Even more than he was when he was thinking about her in fishnets, because, well, this certainly does not involve fishnets. In fact, her thoughts don't involve them wearing anything at all.


Definitely a good thing nobody is telepathic here.

"Well." Leo's response is similar, murmured out between kisses. "I think - you should just - show me."

He pulls away for a moment, looking into her eyes again, before drawing back and unbuttoning his shirt.

Its gonna be a long night… good thing there's plenty of scotch.

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