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WARNING: Semi-mature scenes below. I don't write smut so think of it as the lead up towards the action.

*

Fitz often found himself watching Nina.

When they'd first met, what felt like a lifetime ago, he'd constantly found himself staring at the sultry specialist who clearly wanted no part of the team. When she'd gone from just a specialist to a friend, the engineer still found himself drawn to her whenever she was in view and even when he'd been lucky enough to call her his girlfriend, he couldn't help but watch her.

She was fascinating, everything from the way she walked to the way she smiled captivated Fitz.

He was very much in love with her, so watching her now, sitting at a grand piano in the room of a hotel close to the headquarters, clearly heartbroken from the encounter with her mother, Fitz couldn't help his hurting heart.

Nina hadn't spoke much since Fitz had taken her out of the hospital but she hadn't cried either. The panic attack she'd previously had, died down once they got far enough from the building but she'd remained silent for the whole drive. The most she'd interacted with the world since then was by handing her credit card to the hotel clerk to pay for the room they were currently in.

Fitz wanted to talk to her, to get her to open up about how she felt but he also knew that she'd reached her limit on emotional expression for the day... maybe even the year.

"Do you..." Fitz spoke up, Nina tilted her head at his voice, turning to face him as her fingers stilled in their movement, glossing over the piano keys, "do you play?"

"Yeah," she breathed out, voice very quiet as she turned back to the keys, "I haven't in a while though."

"When did you learn?" He continued, not wanting to let her fall back into her silence. Nina seemed to know what he was doing, so she moved over on the bench giving him some space to sit down.

"I think I was 5, maybe 6," she told him as he took a seat and she pressed a few keys, "Abuela Claudia taught me."

"Your grandmother?" Fitz asked, as he watched her hands. Nina had really nice hands, with slender fingers and prominent veins. The back of her hand was free of scars while her palm held the self inflicted crescent wounds that she always found herself making.

Nina's hands were smooth and rough in all the right ways, and the thought flustered Fitz slightly when he found himself drawn to them as she answered his question.

"No, just an older woman in the barrio," Nina smiled softly at Fitz's lack of knowledge of hispanic culture. She was very much americanised but there were bits and pieces of her culture that always stuck with her, "she used to be a musician and her husband was a preacher, so a bunch of kids would go over to their house for some kind of Bible study."

"I didn't know you were religious."

"I'm not, but my dad was," she shrugged, "Monica and I always stayed longer than the other kids, dad worked late so he couldn't always get back on time but Abuela Claudia would teach us a few chords and some basic songs to pass the time. Tony enrolled me in some lessons when he adopted me, bought a piano for my room too and I played whenever I could."

"Do you have a favourite piece?" Fitz asked, his gaze still locked on her hands. He thought back to the last time they were wrapped around his neck and wondered what he would have to do to get them back there.

"Probably a Beethoven piece, Moonlight Sonata, specifically the 3rd movement," she answered softly, "it's ridiculously hard, I used to think it was impossible until I finally got it when I was 15. It taught me that there's beauty in chaos and I couldn't help but fall in love with it, especially when my life had been nothing but chaos."

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