(A/N: Hi again!

I don't usually write purely Bus Kids stuff, but I had feels, and Christmas is on the way, so this happened

Set in my own AU where May is NOT an LMD.

[Includes shameless Fitzsimmons fluff!]

Enjoy!)

In all his years at S.H.I.E.L.D., Mack had never witnessed anything quite like this.

The Playground, almost literally, dripped Christmas.

He didn't think he'd ever seen so many lights, ornaments, or pine trees in one place. Every hallway was strung from floor to ceiling with tinsel and pine branches. Pieces of holly and bits of mistletoe peeked through every open shelf space in the lab. Christmas trees of all shapes and sizes were dotted randomly here and there - in a doorway, around a corner, even two or three going up the stairs to the Director's office. The kitchen was lit up like, well, a Christmas tree.

Strings of lights lined every doorway, every wall, and every nook and cranny.

And then there was the music.

"Last Christmas" by Wham! blasted through every open (and closed) space with the force of a jet engine.

The most shocking element, however, was the sudden appearance of a certain small rocket scientist, skipping (no, really, skipping) around the corner. He held, in one arm, a rather large bucket containing what looked like snow or glitter or something, and with the other arm he grabbed huge handfuls and tossed the powdery substance everywhere, all the while belting out the lyrics which poured from hidden speakers.

"Turbo!" Mack tried, but to no avail.

He tried again, "FITZ!"

The one-and-only Leopold Fitz came to a screeching halt, his arm mid-throw. The rest of the fluffy stuff fell to the ground, casting a thin and dangerous-looking layer of hazardous material.

"Mack." His eyebrows went up. "We weren't expecting you and the team back so soon," he added, a bit of red beginning to flood his cheeks.

"Yeah, we, uh. . ." He tried to keep a straight face, he really did. ". . . We ended up. . ." one corner of his mouth twitched upward, ". . . I mean, it didn't take as long as we thought it would."

The hallway was finally silent, the last note of the song dying out.

"So," Mack waved his hand around. "What's all this?"

Fitz cleared his throat and brushed some glitter from his shirt. "The girls. . . well, me and. . . I mean, mostly the girls. . . Well, we decided to decorate."

"No kidding," Mack deadpanned.

"It was mostly Daisy's idea," Fitz protested, setting the bucket down, which released a giant puff of snow-glitter. "She thought the team could use a little Chri-"

"Mack!" a voice proclaimed joyfully from around the corner. A figure appeared, clutching a gigantic, voluminous, red-and-green-and-gold wreath. "You can help me hang this now. I was going to Quake it up but that would have probably ruined the wreath, and no one likes a ruined wreath, and. . ." She was gone again, suddenly.

The hall was quiet for a blessed moment.

"She's off her rocker."

Fitz nodded in agreement. "Lost her marbles."

"Talk about the looney bin."

"I think it's the winter air."

Mack shook his head, chuckling, then stepped carefully across the carpet of glitter on the ground, waded through a few trees, basically bush-whacked his way through the tinsel on the walls, and finally made it to his bunk.

"Fitzsimmons!" Daisy's voice echoed through the Playground. "What happened to the music?!"

"I shut it off," Jemma called from the kitchen.

"My brain is pounding," Fitz grumbled, snatching the water bottle Jemma handed him.

"You know that's-"

"-biologically impossible. Yes, Dr. Simmons, I'm well aware. But sometimes the impossible becomes very, very possible."

With a roll of her eyes, Simmons reached up and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "There. Any better?"

"Maybe a bit," he conceded. His face broke into a sly grin. "But it might take a bit more to cure it completely. . ." He leaned down as she tilted her face up, and their foreheads touched briefly. . .

"Hey! Lovebirds! Come help me fix the music!"

Jemma let out a laugh, while Fitz glared at Daisy in disgust.

"The world-renowned hacker can't fix the bloody radio?" he grumbled.

Daisy smiled innocently. "I don't know the base as well as you."

"Wow, Daisy. Can't even give me a moment of peace. After everything I've done for you," he continued as he slumped down the hallway, "you can't even allow me one single moment of silence-"

Jemma swatted his arm.

"We still have to do the bunks," Daisy rambled, "and the Director's office. . ."

"Can we booby trap it?" Fitz asked hopefully.

Daisy turned to stare at him. "Are you serious?"

He raised one eyebrow, glancing between the two girls.

"Heck yeah!" Daisy exclaimed. "Jemma, you ready for some bad girl shenanigans?"

"Um, no, I'm-" But she had already been grabbed by the hand and whisked away, Fitz close on their heels.

Three buckets of water, two exploding red and green chalk bombs, and one pressure-activated rug later, the three collapsed in the lounge area, surrounded by a white, glittering forest of lights and trees.

Jemma still seemed nervous about the office. "You really suppose we ought to leave it like that? He is our director after all, even if we don't trust him. . ."

"He has to be broken in," Daisy insisted. "He's been babied and pampered so far. He needs to see what S.H.I.E.L.D. is all about."

"And he's a lying weasel," Fitz added.

Eventually the rest of the team, barely running on leftover adrenaline and caffeine, wandered in from their respective bunks. Coulson made it through first, panting and sweating by the time he'd hacked his way through the maze of caffeine-induced decorations. (Fitz secretly believed Daisy was high on more than just caffeine, but he granted her the benefit of the doubt. . . for now.)

Letting out one long breath, Coulson stared the three down. "I really don't want to ask."

Daisy offered him an innocent grin and the best puppy eyes she could muster.

Next came Mack, who gave Fitz a long-suffering look and actually looked legitimately concerned for Daisy's health and well-being. But he gave Jemma a pat on her shoulder as he passed, so he must not have been too disturbed.

May followed, stoic as ever, but didn't fail to pin her daughter-figure down with a glare that seemed to come from the depths of hell.

Finally Yoyo burst through, the look on her face more bewildered and comical than anything. She was followed by Director Mace himself, who just shook his head and slumped his way to his office.

As he watched Mace, Fitz accidentally let out a snort, then slapped his hand over his mouth. Jemma couldn't hide her own grin, and Daisy copied Fitz, eventually bursting out into full-blown laughter. The rest of the team stared at them, beyond concerned.

Finally the storm broke.

A huge SLAM echoed from upstairs, followed by a string of curses, which were, in turn, followed by a loud beeeeeeep, which led to a very, very upbeat and chaotic version of "Jingle Bell Rock" blasting from the upper level with about the force of a small earthquake. Clouds of red and green dust billowed down the stairs, followed by a wide-eyed, still-cursing, Mace.

Fitzsimmons and Daisy were in stitches as the room burst into complete pandemonium.

Daisy couldn't physically control her laughter, so she took up one whole couch, her limbs thrashing, occasionally clutching her stomach. Fitz was sprawled across one half of a couch, Jemma doubled over on the other half, both laughing like maniacs.

For a good five minutes, as the three laughed, the rest of the team scrambled around, trying blow away the clouds of chalk, trying to find a way to quiet the music, and just generally stopping Mace from having an aneurysm.

"Let's never do that again." Jemma sat on the edge of her desk, fiddling with a pen and looking a bit frazzled.

The three misbehaving agents had been sent to the lab to calm down while the team tried in vain to stop the horrifically loud music. It had been set on a 30-minute loop, and it still echoed throughout the whole base.

"I feel like a five-year-old in time-out," Daisy complained.

Fitzsimmons nodded in agreement.

A bit of a grin pulled at Fitz's mouth. "How long do you think it'll take Mace to wash the chalk out of his hair?"

Daisy snorted while Jemma rolled her eyes.

"I hope you two are satisfied," Simmons stated. "This could have been counted as treason against a government agency."

"Treason?" Daisy stared at her friend in astonishment. "Treason would be blowing this place up, not pranking the Director." She glanced at Fitz. "Your girlfriend needs to lighten up."

He chuckled while Jemma blushed. "I can lighten up," she insisted. "I'm just not thrilled about being fired."

"Who said anything about being fired?" Fitz quirked an eyebrow. "The worst that could happen is we spend a week on KP."

"...Which is not unlikely," Jemma reiterated.

"No, no, you guys," Daisy leaned back to lie flat on the exam table, her feet dangling as she stared at the ceiling. "I think Coulson enjoyed seeing that as much as we enjoyed doing it. We're not getting in trouble."

"But I already feel like a toddler," Fitz grumbled. "It can't get much worse."

"Exactly."

To everyone's surprise, Jemma suddenly let out a rather unladylike snort. "How did we get here?" she chortled. "Pranking the Director and being sent to our rooms like children."

"Talk about full circle," Daisy agreed, giggles beginning to bubble up again.

"Feels like those first weeks on the Bus, doesn't it?" Fitz grinned, looking too much like his old self for comfort.

Suddenly, the girls were silent.

"Yeah," Daisy said quietly. "Sure does."

"I didn't mean to upset Daisy."

"I know, she's not upset, she's just-"

"No, she's upset."

Fitz leaned back and closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself for bringing up a sore subject after all Daisy had been through.

"Fitz," Jemma placed a hand on his knee. "She's still working through all her emotions from the last few years. She needs to process them. You've done nothing wrong."

He cracked open one eye and quirked an eyebrow, staring sideways at Simmons. "You mean she doesn't hate me?"

This time Jemma laughed outright. "Hate you? Fitz, you know nothing could break up the team at this point. As I told you-"

"Yeah, but even best friends-"

"-she's just processing and needs time-"

"-can argue and hate each other-"

"-to work through everything-"

"-for a little while."

"-that's happened!"

They locked eyes for a moment, then Fitz grinned. "I still don't regret pranking the Director."

Jemma laughed, then leaned over and kissed him firmly.

(Hope you enjoyed! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!)