A/N: Merry Christmas, 27lablover! This doesn't spoil anything past episode 5 of season 1.
Jemma watches the snow fall in thick flurries from the window. She wants to go out there, even though it was too cold for her earlier, and her parents had to drag her inside and warm her up with tea.
Things are exactly as they should be, Jemma thinks with a satisfied humming noise. Snow is just the right thing to get everyone into the holiday spirit.
They had just finished putting the last of the ornaments on the tree that morning. Presents are piled at the bottom of the tree, waiting to be opened when Christmas finally arrives.
Jemma can't wait. She remembers her mum saying something to her dad last week about a new chemistry kit being among the presents, and there are so many experiments she's been longing to try out. Plus, a lot of the presents in the pile look like they could be new books.
For now, she picks up one of her old books, trying not to let the anticipation distract her too much. She knows her parents are worried about her because she spends so much of her time reading instead of playing with the other children, but she doesn't want to go find the other children right now.
The truth is, none of the children are really what she would consider friends. The people her age are mostly mean to her, and the ones who aren't don't understand a lot of what she says. They think she's a know-it-all, but she doesn't mean to be. The kids in her grade are just as bad. They all think she's just a little kid, and they resent her for being so far ahead of them on their schoolwork.
It's alright, though. School isn't about the people. It's about learning, and Jemma's very good at that. It's why she skipped so many grades.
Jemma pulls herself away from the book when she hears the distinct ding that means something is done cooking in the oven. She jumps up and runs into the kitchen, eager to eat the Christmas cookies while they're still warm.
Her mum bats her hand away as she tries to reach for one. "They're hot," she says, lifting them well out of Jemma's reach to keep her from trying again.
Jemma's mum looks at her with a smile. "Why don't you take a few of these out to your friends once they're cool, dear?" She sets them down on the counter for a second while going to grab something.
Jemma stands on her tiptoes to reach the tray and pops a cookie into her mouth. It is too hot, but it's still delicious. "Nah," she says through a mouthful. "I'd rather have them to myself."
Jemma can feel a nervous energy building within her as surely as a storm is building outside her window. This is her first Christmas away from home. She went to university in the states and got both her PhDs here, so she's not prone to extreme bouts of homesickness anymore, but she's never missed Christmas before.
The Academy is on a tighter schedule than her university and grad schools had been. She's looked over the flight schedules at least five times now, and there's just no way around it; she's not going to be able to get to England and back in the time available.
Fitz taps her on the shoulder, bringing her out of her thoughts. He looks at her knowingly while he hands her a cup of tea. "I won't be able to go home either."
Jemma nods and stands up, resigned to her fate. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to do Christmas here, then," she says, new determination coloring her voice. There's no reason Christmas should be any less festive just because she's stuck in America. She looks around the small Academy living quarters. They'll have to start by brightening that up a bit. "Come on, we have to get a tree."
Fitz looks confused. "A plastic one, you mean?"
"No, silly," Jemma says, going for her coat. "I think I saw a place to buy real ones a few miles off campus."
"I'm pretty sure that's not allowed. I think they have something very specific in the rule book against that. And it's going to rain!"
"Then we'll just have to beat the rain. We'll go now. What's the worst that could happen?" She takes a sip of her tea and holds up a hand to keep him from talking. "Don't answer that. Are you coming or not?"
Fitz sighs and runs a hand through his hair, but he's already started putting on his winter gear.
A blizzard has been coming down for days. It's made Christmas break a little longer than they had expected. His classmates don't want to play with him any more than they did when school was still in session, but at least when school is out he doesn't have to pretend to like them.
At least now he has more free time to work on his projects. School can be awfully dull sometimes. His current project is to fix his toy car that got broken. He thinks he can make it work even better than it did before if he can find the right parts.
Christmas isn't such a big thing in the Fitz household. Some of the other places in Glasgow have extravagant, bright displays, but they don't have all that much money to spare since his dad isn't around anymore. Leo doesn't mind, though. The tree might be small and plastic, but it still brightens up the house. He only gets a present or two each year, but it's still more than he had before.
This year, he hopes he gets some parts he can use to keep building things and fixing things around the house. He plans to give his mum her favorite watch that she had broken months ago. He's finally figured out how to fix it using things he found around the house. Now it's wrapped up in a small box that he placed under the tree.
Leo can see some kids outside throwing snowballs at each other. He recognizes a few of them from some of the different classes he's been part of. He's tempted to go out there and join them, but he knows they'll only leave if he tries. Instead, he closes the curtain and walks away from the window. It's no fun to watch other people play.
He retreats into his room like he does every day. He can feel his mum's worried eyes on his back as he walks into his room. He hates to disappoint her like this; he knows she wants him to go out there and try to make friends, but it never works. He doesn't like those stupid kids any more than they like him, and that's not going to change.
Fitz collapses onto the couch in his and Simmons' shared apartment and makes a noise that is a combination of a sigh and grumbled curses.
"Oh, it's really not so bad, Fitz," Simmons says, ever the optimist.
"They're going to work us right through Christmas," he says, raising his head from the couch just enough to meet her eyes.
Simmons doesn't even try to deny that. "Lives are at stake, Fitz. We're needed."
And Fitz knows that, he really does. He feels like a brat just complaining about it, but he likes celebrating Christmas. He and Simmons have established some Christmas traditions since they have to stay in America over the holidays due to work.
Their first Christmas together was a disaster. Fitz had come out of the night soaking wet and covered in pine needles, and he had gotten a rather serious and lengthy disciplinary report filed against him. Simmons hadn't come out of the night with any more grace. But since then, they've managed to get some rather safer traditions of their own started and haven't gotten themselves in that much trouble again.
He isn't asking for much, just some time to get a tree (plastic, they had never tried to get a real tree again after that disaster) and some time to finish getting his present for Jemma ready.
This is their first time home in nearly a week. They haven't had time with this project. Usually they can work at a more relaxed pace, since they're not field agents, but this project has to be on a big rush so that it can be used in an upcoming mission. If that means they have to work right through Christmas, well, it's not like S.H.I.E.L.D. really cares that they have traditions.
He groans again, then peels himself off the couch to get into the bedroom. They're not going to get another break before Christmas, so he'll just have to give Simmons her present now, even if it's not wrapped yet and they both feel gross from days of working on end.
He walks out and puts the small box in front of Simmons on the table. She looks confused and tired, but her smile is still bright. He's not sure how she does that. "For me?"
"Yeah. I thought since, you know, we'll be working through Christmas."
She smiles, and he knows that she understands. "I have something for you, too. It's in my room," she tells him as she opens the gift. There's very little packaging, so it only takes her a second to open. She pulls out the necklace. He fiddles with his hands nervously while he waits for her to react. "Fitz," she breathes. "I love it."
Her smile is genuine. Fitz's nervous energy dissipates. He smiles weakly back. Simmons pins the necklace around her neck. "Now you have to open yours," she says excitedly and hurries off to her room to get it. Fitz watches her go with an amused smile.
Skye hates Christmas. Hating it is easier than being disappointed each year when there are no presents and she's either at St. Agnes or a new foster home, though that's rare. Usually they give her back before Christmas.
This year she's at the orphanage. Nothing too exciting goes on, because the sisters only believe in celebrating Christmas as a religious holiday, not one full of cheer and presents, though Skye suspects that that's just because they can't find anyone willing to give a bunch of orphans presents. They're lucky they get enough donations to eat, as Sister Margaret would say.
So, Christmas isn't all that fun, and she doesn't expect it to be. It doesn't help that so many of the kids at school are spending much of the week before break starts telling each other all about the presents they're sure to get or the vacations their parents are taking them on.
Skye isn't going to spend her time sulking about being trapped in this hellhole. She's going to do something about it. The sisters will yell at her if they find out that she sneaked out, but that's only if she gets caught. Skye never gets caught.
Getting the window open without anyone hearing is the hard part. Climbing out is easy. She's still small enough that she can slip right through the window. Soon she won't be able to, but soon she'll be able to walk right out the door and never come back.
The street outside isn't as quiet as usual, with everyone trying to do their Christmas shopping while the stores aren't too crowded. None of them so much as look at Skye.
She doesn't know where she's going, exactly. She wishes she could go somewhere with computers. She's good with them and getting better, but the only one at St. Agnes is only for use by the nuns or if the kids have homework. They won't even let Skye use it without supervision anymore.
It's not like there's anyone who would let her in to use their electronics, though, so she lets go of that idea right away. She has plenty of friends, but she doesn't like sharing her life at the orphanage with them. Skye doesn't want them to pity her.
So she just wanders. She keeps track of where she's going just enough that she'll be able to get back, but this neighborhood is the one she's known for the longest. She's out at new foster homes a lot of the time, and that's when she really has to worry about getting lost and not having friends.
Skye can hear carolers going through the classics about a block over. She takes a turn to avoid them. She doesn't feel like Christmas cheer tonight.
Christmas just means having to tell the little ones and the new kids in the orphanage that no, they're not getting anything. It just means seeing everyone else getting excited and making traditions without getting to do any of that herself.
Skye wants to get far away from here and this past. She doesn't have an exact plan, but she already knows that she isn't going to graduate high school with her current grade in history, and college isn't really her thing. Most of her plan is really a daydream, in which she gets a car and a computer and drives and drives, far away from anything she's ever known. She's already seen that she doesn't need money or even an ID to get a drink, and she can make some cash with a computer if she ends up getting it.
But that's far off and vague, and Skye knows all too well that her dreams aren't going to become a reality. Good things don't happen to people like her.
Skye wakes up one morning to find the Bus entirely transformed into some kind of winter wonderland. There's a tree, a big one; where could they have even found a tree like that? There are already a few perfectly wrapped presents under it. Garlands and wreaths seem to cover almost every surface.
Skye's immediate thought is that someone must be under some kind of influence. 0-8-4, drugs, something had happened to cause this. People don't just decorate like this outside of the movies.
May wanders out silently from behind the massive tree. She raises an eyebrow at Skye in question.
"Not me, I swear!" she says, jumping to the defense. "I didn't even know we had all this stuff."
May regards her for a second, then seems to decide that she's telling the truth. "We had a few garlands and wreaths. Coulson likes Christmas. The rest isn't ours."
Skye thinks she should be even more scared of it if May can't explain it. "Do you think it's evil?"
"Maybe we could take it down based on our suspicions," she deadpans.
"Wouldn't that tree weigh down the Bus?" Skye is mostly curious about how the mystery elf managed to get that in the door without even May noticing.
"Might fall on someone and hurt them," May adds thoughtfully.
"Are you two already coming up with ways to ruin Christmas?" Coulson asks from behind them.
Skye turns around. "Don't tell me you did this."
He's smiling with an impressed, possibly awed face. "I can't say I did. I wonder how - "
"Right?" Skye interrupts, waving an arm up at the tree. "Who even goes to this much trouble on December first?"
"So you don't like it?" comes a small British voice from behind her. God, when did everyone on this team become so good at sneaking up on people?
Right. Super spies. Skye is still working on getting used to this. She should have known that adorable Jemma Simmons would be the magical, cheery Christmas elf.
"Doesn't it seem like a bit much?" Coulson tries gently.
"It's all perfectly safe, sir," Simmons says, like this is a prepared speech that she's given before, and from this experienced decorating job, Skye thinks it might be. "The tree is secure, and it's plastic, so there's no chance of contamination or mess. It all goes away after Christmas."
"That's plastic?" Skye says. She couldn't tell. That must be some pretty hyper realistic plastic. It's probably the expensive kind that people don't want Skye to get too close to for fear that she'll break it.
"Yeah," Fitz says, walking up towards them after Simmons and handing her a cup of tea smoothly, part of their daily routine. "We learned that the first year we decorated together," he says. Skye thinks that's kind of cryptic and odd, like there's some horrible story to go with that declaration. She wonders how classified the story of the Christmas tree contamination is.
"Okay," Coulson says, like that's the end of it. Skye kind of wants to protest a little bit more, because she kind of hates all this spirit, but she feels like Coulson's not really going to listen to her on that. He seems a little bit too delighted about this whole thing.
(As Skye learns over the course of the month, Christmas spirit isn't all bad. She manages to kiss both Fitz and Simmons under the mistletoe within the first week of the new decorations.)
They have a house now. It's odd, because Skye has never really has a house, even before everything, much less a home. She stayed at Miles' place sometimes, when she didn't have anywhere else to go or she was too tired to get up, but that doesn't count. It was never hers.
This is. It's away from everything S.H.I.E.L.D., though it's just for breaks because she could never really leave S.H.I.E.L.D., and neither could Jemma or Fitz.
It's a perfect balance. Jemma keeps the place neat, and then Skye and Fitz mess it up again. She had thought she would be a third wheel, just tagging along after the magnificent science duo, but it's more like a triangle. Skye learned from experience when she was young that traditions mean getting left out. The little foster kid isn't involved in family traditions because she's not really part of the family. While she's been at S.H.I.E.L.D., they've made lots of new traditions, ones that include Skye, but this feels like something that she can't touch, the Fitzsimmons Christmas. She's not part of it, not really.
It's a little scary how easily she can revert back to being a scared little kid. She knows these people are her family now, and they're not going to send her back.
The Christmas decorations don't go up overnight this time, because they have other things to do at night, and it's really easier to decorate when you can see the decorations, anyway.
Skye watches from the side, awed by their synchronization throughout. She stays on the sidelines, afraid that she'll mess them up if she tries to join in.
Skye has gained an odd appreciation for the holiday season. It makes them happy, and she thinks that's enough to make her happy now.
Fitz is wearing a large green and red Christmas sweater with reindeer running across the front. He doesn't seem very happy about his wardrobe choices, while Jemma wears a smug smile. "This place looks much better now," Jemma declares while putting her feet up.
"More festive," Fitz agrees.
"You guys can do that weirdly quickly. Is there some special class at your S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy where they teach you advanced decorating?"
Fitz and Jemma both grin. "They rather disapproved of our decorations at the Academy," Jemma says with a fond smile, "especially after that first year. That was quite a disaster."
"Oh, and whose idea was it to try to sneak through a building full of super spies while soaking wet and carrying a giant tree?" Fitz teases.
"I believe it was a collaboration," Jemma says solemnly.
Skye laughs at Fitz's outraged splutters. "It was not!"
"Well, I certainly wasn't the one who woke up half the building with my vulgar swearing."
"That's because you dropped it on my foot!"
They're all laughing now. Jemma hops up again, a blur of activity once more. Skye has no idea how she does that. "Come on, now we have to put the ornaments on. Skye, you have to help this time."
Skye is met with a stern but amused look and knows there's no point in arguing. She follows Jemma into the closet to see four large boxes of ornaments piled up on top of each other. "Holy shit," she declares.
Jemma rolls her eyes and picks up two boxes. Skye can barely see her from behind the boxes. Skye picks up the remaining boxes. They're surprisingly heavy, but she supposes that wouldn't be a problem for Jemma, since she and Fitz seem to run on an extra energy supply of Christmas spirit at this time of year.
Skye can't hate these traditions, because she's always included in them.