M - Making Merry

by Bdoyle

Continuation of Parenting Through the Alphabet, sequel to A Full Quiver, Fitz, Jemma, Skye and Trip are adopted children of Phil and Melinda Fitz and Jemma are home from university for the holiday Trip is on leave from and Skye is thrilled to have them home Waiting for Phil and Melinda to return from a last minute shopping trip they reminisce about their first Christmas together.

1. Chapter 1

M – Making Merry

Yes this is out of order and I was working on L when I became rather ill and caught pnuemonia before it turned ugly. After four days of bed rest I decided to skip to M or it would never get done before Christmas...so L will be the next installment after I complete the next chapter of If the Frame Fits.

WARNING - About three quarters of the way through this gets a little racy but hopefully it is in good taste. If this offends you please skip that section which is well outlined in order for you to do so.

Skye shoved the last of the chocolate chip cookie into her mouth and took a quick sip of cocoa before running to pull open the front door. She slid the last two feet across the hardwood floor on her stocking feet and pulled open the door as she swallowed the last of her mouthful. Lucky for the young man standing behind two large cases that she did as her mouth dropped open at the sight.

"Fitz!" the young girl squealed as she pushed aside the suitcases and wrapped herself around her older brother.

"Oomph," Fitz replied stepping back to keep his balance and hold the cases steady on the snow covered stoop.

"Skye!" another voice squealed in the same pitch with a much different accent.

Skye released her brother and pulled her sister into the same tight hug, forgetting she was standing in ankle deep snow clad only in sweat-socks. "What are you guys doing here? We didn't expect you til the weekend." She released Jemma for a second then pulled her into another tight hug before reaching out and pulling Fitz into it as well.

"We caught an earlier flight." The young man explained as a light snow began to fall. "Not that I don't appreciate the welcome but do you think we can continue this inside."

"Oh, geez, yeah…yeah…come on you guys…YOU GUYS!" Skye squealed again pulling both into the house and pulling off their coats before they had a chance to do so. She threw both on nearest piece of furniture much to Jemma's dismay. "Gawd, I missed you guys!" The girl could not keep the squeal from her voice or the smile from her face. "Mom and Dad will flip when they see you! Damn, I should call them…" she pulled a phone from her pocket.

"NO!" Both answered, shocking Skye into silence.

"No," Jemma repeated quietly, smiling at the fact they had halted their baby sister for one of a very few times. "We want it to be a surprise."

Fitz dragged the two large cases into the parlor. "We can put these upstairs so they won't see them." He suggested as he reached for his jacket. "I'll need to go out to the cabbie and get the rest and pay the man as well."

"Cabbie?" Skye repeated. "Why didn't you call? I would have picked you up!"

"Exactly why we didn't," Fitz tapped the end of his sister's nose. "We've seen you drive and we wanted to get here in one piece." He stepped past her and out the front door.

"Ha ha!" Skye smiled at her brother's jest, standing in the open doorway and watching as he trudged down the walk to the cab at the curb.

Jemma stepped next to her, already slipping into her own coat. "Perhaps we should help?" She nodded at Skye as she slipped past and started down the stairs. "And Skye," she remarked without turning back, "put on some shoes."

Skye looked down at her now soggy socks, shrugged her shoulders and reached down to pull of the offensive footwear. She shoved her bare feet into the nearest pair of boots and tossed the socks over the stairway railing.

Jemma would scold her for an hour for not wearing a coat.

xx

Dark comes early in December especially in the eastern U.S. so by five p.m. Skye had flicked on the festive lights that decorated the front of the Coulson home and plugged in the twinkling blinkers on the eight foot tree that stood in parlor window. She and Jemma snuggled on the couch watching the lights as Fitz attempted to start a fire in the large fireplace on the opposite side of the room. They stopped, holding collective breaths as the back door opened and they heard someone step inside.

"Skye?" Trip's voice rang through the quiet house. "Hey, I brought Chinese…got your favorites." He laughed out loud, "all of them."

Skye slid into the kitchen, across the tile once again in her stocking feet. "That's good, because…"

Trip's eyebrow's rose as he waited for her to continue, then heard the faint sound of a soft giggle. "Because?" He narrowed his eyes. "What're you up to, baby girl?" He teased using an old pet name for his baby sister.

"Surprise!" Jemma squealed as she stepped into the kitchen, dragging Fitz behind her.

"JEMMA!" Trip bellowed reaching his sister in two long strides, lifting her into his arms and spinning her in a circle before setting her down and kissing the top of her head. He grabbed Fitz before the younger man could protest and pulled him into a headlock, rubbing his knuckles across the ever present curls. "Little Man! Fitz, old boy." Releasing his little brother he pulled him into a bear hug that Fitz returned with equal gusto.

"We didn't know you were home," Jemma smiled as she wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him again.

"Seems, Skye had a surprise of her own," Fitz smirked.

Skye shuffled her feet and tried to hide the blush. "He just got home yesterday."

Trip smiled wide. "Managed to get a month's leave before my next assignment," he expression changed for a brief moment. "Not sure when I'll get home again." The he smiled again as he moved his siblings toward the table. "But for now, we're here, all of us so let's enjoy." He spread his arms across the various bags he'd set on the table. "There's enough here for everybody, especially since Skye's favorites include just about everything. In fact," he continued as he began pulling small white containers from the bags. "She the only person I know that eats more than Fitz." He waggled his eyebrows at his little brother.

Even Fitz joined the laughter.

xx

Bellies full and kitchen cleaned the four Coulson siblings spread out in front of the fire Fitz and Trip had started. The glow of the flames and the sparkle of the Christmas tree lights brought a serene light to the room, lit only by those means.

"So you aren't sure when they'll be home," Jemma asked trying to hide the anticipation in her voice.

Skye looked toward the large grandfather clock in the corner and smiled at the way the fire caused the large numerals on it to appear to glow in reds and golds. "It's not even seven, they're never home before eight and with the snow…well it could be later."

"Mom said something about last minute shopping when they left this morning." Trip mused staring into the mesmerizing flames. His head slipped off his hand where it rested as the pillow his youngest sister flung slammed into him.

"You didn't tell me that!" Skye whined. "I had so many suggestions, too."

Jemma poked her ribs. "You never change."

Skye smiled. "You would have liked a lot of them." Both girls giggled and leaned closer to each other bantering in talk or giggling or whatever it was girls talked about that made boys roll their eyes.

Fitz stretched out his legs and knocked a long stemmed basket from the stand next to the fireplace. He jumped and caught it before it hit the floor. Turning it toward himself and staring at it for a brief moment.

"Hey, great reflex improvement little bro!" Trip teased, landing a soft punch on his brother's shoulder as he sat up and took the basket from Fitz. "Wow, the old popcorn basket," he wobbled it back and forth. "Too bad we don't have any," he laughed for a moment. "Remember, remember the time we filled it and…and…" the man could not continue for the laughter.

"And the lid blew off…" Fitz added to the laughter.

"Popcorn all over the room!" Skye remembered.

"I think it kept popping for hours after Fitz spilled it into the fire." Jemma laughed.

"Me!" Fitz pointed at his own chest. "Not me, it was Trip trying to come to the rescue and Jemma trying to keep Skye from jamming her little hands right into the hot mess."

"Oh yeah, right blame me," Skye laughed.

"I think mom picked up popcorn kernels for a year." Trip snorted.

Jemma yanked a pillow from the sofa and threw it to the floor then laid down on it looking up at the brightly lit tree. Skye followed her example and snuggled up next to her big sister. Jemma smiled and kissed the younger girl's temple as she wrapped an arm around her. Skye wrapped both her hands around her older sister's.

"Remember when we used to do this while Da read the Night Before Christmas every Christmas Eve?" Jemma smiled as she cuddled into Skye.

"Right after we hung our stockings," Skye smiled as well, closing her eyes and relishing the memory.

"Mom would give us hot cocoa and cookies," Fitz stared up at the tree. "Only time we ever got such a great treat before bedtime."

"You never made it to the end of the story," Trip sighed. "Yep, fell asleep right there," he pointed to the spot next to Jemma and Skye. "The three of you right there, like little Christmas gifts all cute and sleeping…" his voice changed into a silly sing-song as he teased his younger siblings who rolled their eyes at his nonsense. "Mom, Dad and I had to cart the lot of you up the stairs every time."

Trip shook his head at the memory of carrying his little brother up the stairs and laying him in his bunk before Melinda would come to tuck him in and kiss him good night. Phil would follow after tucking in the girls and no matter how old or big he was Melinda kissed him too and Phil would pull him into a hug before wishing him a good night and a Merry Christmas.

Fitz pulled his legs criss cross in front of him and leaned forward to rest on his arms. "Do you remember that first Christmas?" He asked quietly.

Skye rolled over on her tummy and rested her chin on her folded hands. She peered into the small wooden stable under the tree. "You mean Bethlehem and the Star and the Baby?" She reached out and tapped a finger gently on the small plastic figure in the center of the crèche.

Fitz shook his head and looked directly at Jemma. "No, the first one…the first one we had…together."

Jemma sat up and scooted closer to her brother, taking his hand in hers. "I remember."

Skye rolled back and stared up through the branches of the tree she had managed to wriggle under. "I think the tree was about three feet higher."

Trip gave her foot a gentle swat. "More like you were three feet shorter and they're not talking about that Christmas." His voice was more serious than it had been and Skye moved from beneath the tree to set next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It was before you came to us, bao bao." Jemma explained and Skye smiled at the term of endearment.

"We were still in that little apartment." Fitz recalled with a sad smile. "And the tree…wellll…"

xx

The tree wasn't very big, in fact it was more of a twig. Even Charlie Brown's tree looked healthier. But the tree wasn't the problem in the Coulson apartment. With just a week until the thrown-together family celebrated their first Christmas there was very little merry to be shared.

It was difficult easing three children through traumatic experiences every day and Christmas just made it harder. No one felt much like celebrating when everything about the holiday only served as a reminder of what they had lost, how their lives had been torn apart and how it would never again feel the same.

Jemma spent more time in the local library than anywhere else and when at home she hardly left her small bedroom. Both Phil and Melinda knew she was quietly sobbing, mourning her loss over and over but she resisted every effort they made to comfort her. The girl barely ate, if it was even possible for her to eat less than what she'd been eating. Three professors had called in three days to inquire about her well being, saying she was listless in class and not completing assignments.

Trip begged permission to spend time in his grandmother's apartment, even sleeping there one or two nights a week. He spent hours going through the woman's address book, carefully penning his grandmother's name to Christmas cards he knew she would send. He fell into his own bed so Phil and Melinda and their little kids wouldn't hear him cry himself to sleep. It was dumb and he knew it but he was so scared…scared his gram would not get better and what would happen to him…scared that he couldn't do everything she did for the holiday…scared he couldn't help all the people she did every year. He tried baking her cookies and burnt two batches before getting it right and delivering them to the church homeless shelter on his way to school. He'd fallen asleep in algebra class earning a call to Phil who threatened to take away his overnight privileges if it happened again. It didn't. He made sure it didn't.

Fitz…Fitz was the worst. His use of colorful, albeit unacceptable language became almost part of his everyday speech. Despite warning after warning and several hours spent in his room it only grew worse, along with is temper. He smashed a table full of beakers in chemistry class when an experiment failed and bloodied the nose of a classmate who sniggered at his lack of physical skill in gym class. Being Fitz he managed it with a well place volley ball, rather than a fist but he was fully responsible. Phil was called to the school both times at the little boy's request knowing that the man would certainly read him the riot act but he wasn't about to take any chances with that woman.

Even Melinda found she needed time away from her new family, heartbroken over the decision made by St. Agnes head social worker who had denied the Coulson's custody of Skye for the holiday. The little girl had spent two weekends with them. Phil and Melinda thought all was well and prepared to bring her home for good by the twenty-third. Jade Johnson put an end to that with one swipe of her pen. She would make her final decision after the holiday and until then Mary Sue Poots stayed right where she was. Almost all of the children at the orphanage spent the holidays with local families. Skye would spend it at there with a few older children and the few sisters who had not requested time to spend with their own families. The only redeeming grace was that Sr. M. Claire was one of them.

Still that did not stop Melinda from sobbing silently into her own pillow each night. Phil pulled her to his chest, trying in vain to comfort her. He'd pulled every string he could and then some but nothing and no one could change the social worker's mind and pressing the issue could jeopardize their attempt to make Skye part of their family. Everything hinged on what that woman said and they did not want to take the risk. Still Melinda cried for the baby that would spend the holiday alone and for the ache in her heart that could not be healed.

The Coulsons had not made a big deal out of Halloween or Thanksgiving, making light of both holidays to help the children make the adjustment. They had hoped Christmas would be different. Phil brought the two foot tree from the basement storage area and set one box of small ornaments on the coffee table. He purchased a new set of lights in the hopes they would spend some time decorating it together. It wasn't much and they certainly could afford more but the apartment was small and crowded and there was little room to spare for a much larger tree. He suggested a bigger tree but Melinda nixed the idea reminding him, on their way to the office, that they hoped to be in a much larger home by next Christmas.

The little tree was the one Phil and Melinda used every year since they'd moved into this apartment. It fit neatly on the two tiered table before the front window. It looked delightful from the street, giving the impression of a much bigger model and Melinda always laughed at how it fooled everyone. They had their own special little ornaments…one from their first Christmas together, one from a trip to Canada and several other places they visited throughout their marriage. Melinda had searched every shop in three states to find special trinkets for the kids to hang this year, even one for baby's first. She knew Skye wasn't a baby…but, hell yes it was her baby's first Christmas…or it would have been. Now the little pram decorated in pink, only served as another reason to cry. She didn't even mention the other ornaments feeling that the other kids would show no interest anyway. She actually envisioned Fitz using the glass bulbs as baseballs and pitching them against every wall in the place. He'd already pushed her to her limit and she wondered what kind of mother she would be branded for tanning his hide a week before the big day.

Phil was never one to give up and he smiled as the kids shuffled in from school. He and Melinda made it a point to be home by the time the children arrived. Jemma arrived first, announcing that Fitz had left something on the van and went back for it. She shrugged off her coat and hung it neatly in the hall closet, collected her backpack and headed for her bedroom ignoring what Phil was doing in the parlor. Fitz kicked open the door and threw his backpack on the floor before tossing his coat on the closet floor and leaving that door ajar. He dragged his bag across the floor without acknowledging Phil and slammed his bedroom door behind him. Trip was last, pushing open the door that Fitz hadn't secured and picking up his little brother's jacket as he hung his own. He waved to Phil with a half smile and hiked his backpack on his shoulder before asking for permission to do his homework across the hall. Doing it with Fitz had become almost impossible.

"I'd really like if you stuck around tonight, Trip. I need your help with this." He stepped aside and revealed the little tree.

Trip stifled a laugh that probably would have come off as a sob. "Doesn't look like much of a job, Mr. C."

Phil had managed to bend and shape the branches into what resembled a small pine tree. He looked at the pitiful thing that always seemed so much more festive when he and Melinda sipped wine, played sappy Christmas music and somehow made it look better. "Yeah, but maybe you could help me get the kids to help." He looked at the young boy and waited for the reply that didn't come. "I know you're not feeling very festive, Trip and I don't blame you but this might help a little. Whadya say, help a guy out?"

Trip smiled. He knew what his gram would say…what she'd want him to do. He slid the backpack down and shuffled his feet a bit. "Sure, Mr. C. I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'll give it a try."

"Thanks, Trip. You can use my desk to do your homework. I know Fitz hasn't been a lot of fun lately." Phil adjusted the tree a bit more and stood back to check it out. "Still a little lopsided, huh?" He looked over his shoulder at Trip who nodded in agreement.

By the time Melinda called them for supper the tree was a straight as it was going to be. Phil had left Trip to his assignments and helped with dinner prep then knocked on two closed doors twice before opening both and ordering two grumpy children to the kitchen.

Jemma slid onto her chair and frowned at the meal set before her. Trip sat next to her and smiled as he pulled his napkin into his lap and said a quick prayer, like he and his gram did at every meal. He didn't expect the Coulsons to do it and they didn't mind that he did. Fitz flopped into his chair on the opposite side of the table and pushed the plate away.

"I'm not hungry." He announced with a growl.

Melinda pushed it back gently. "Pretend you are…humor me." The boy rolled his eyes and dropped his head onto his hand.

"You shouldn't put your elbow on the table, Fitz." Jemma remarked automatically.

"Don't be putting your elbows on the table," Fitz mocked her in a nasally snide voice. "I'll put my bloody elbows wherever I damn well please to, Miss Manners."

Jemma frowned and put down her head to hide the blush.

Melinda tapped the table and glared at the boy. "That's enough Fitz and I've warned you about that language. Next time it won't be a warning."

Fitz turned up one side of his mouth and dropped his hands into his lap. He looked up at Melinda over his brows then did the same with Phil and Trip. He swung his legs under the table and tapped the end of the fork causing it to bounce up and down. Melinda picked it up and set it in his hand nodding toward his plate as incentive for him to start eating.

The boy poked at the chicken on his plate and watched as Phil and Trip dug into their own food. He rested his opposite elbow on the table and twirled one of his curls around his finger. "How come we never have mutton or haggis or salmon? Why always this garbage?"

"Fitz!" Four voices admonished the boy who looked up innocently.

"Well?" Fitz waited for answer as he flicked the green beans across his plate.

"Well," Melinda began, looking up at Phil and trying not to feel the stares of the other two children at the table. "You never asked for anything like that, Fitz. I'll see what I can do. Maybe you can help. I'm not really sure just what haggis is?"

"Doesn't matter," Fitz smirked. "I hate the bloody stuff. Far as it concerns me the mess tastes like sh…"

"Fitz!" Phil's voice was firm and the boy snapped his mouth shut.

The table was silent for a moment as Jemma stared at her plate and Fitz poked at his. Trip finished and asked for seconds which Melinda obliged.

"I thought we might get some decorations up tonight." Phil suggested without looking up from his food. "Maybe get a little spirit in the place."

The silence was deafening until Fitz started laughing. "You call that shabby little twig in there," he hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "a Christmas tree? It's the damn, bloodiest stupid thing I've seen in all my life."

Phil smiled. It was a poor excuse for a tree. "Well, little man, I'm sorry it doesn't meet your specifications but it's all we've got."

"Stands to reason," Fitz mumbled as he squashed his mashed potatoes flat. "Dumb bloody tree for a bunch of damn, feckin' kids nobody wants anyway."

"What was that?" Phil asked, now completely focused on the little boy. "If you've got something to say Fitz, say it out loud."

Fitz froze for a moment, staring at the table before throwing his fork down onto his plate causing Jemma to jump. He slammed his hands on the table and stood. "I said I'm not decorating any feckin tree and I'm not eating this f…"

Yep there it was the big bad 'f' word right out loud in front of them all. He said it once and they all just stared like they were frozen so he said it again and pounded his fist on the table, then again and pounded both fists. He would have said it again if Melinda didn't have him by the wrist whisking him away from the table and the kitchen.

She slammed his bedroom door harder than he had earlier, yanked the chair from his desk, spun it around and slammed it down on the floor.

xx

"Damn, Fitz, you really said that?" Skye was between shock and humor. "And I wasn't there to see it."

"Oh, you were too young to remember anyway," Jemma smiled.

"So what happened?" Skye leaned forward and rubbed her hands together. "Oh, I bet momma blistered your bahoochie." She laughed.

Fitz blushed at an incident that happened so many years ago then laughed at his sister's comment. "Well I wouldn't say blistered but it was the worst, the last and the first."

Skye scrunched up her face in confusion. Jemma shrugged and Trip shook his head. None had ever heard this part of the story although the thin walls of the apartment did allow them to hear the whalloping their brother got before he returned to the table and finished his meal without further incident.

"The worse language I ever used…the last time I used it and the first time mom dropped my drawers before she let me know how she felt about it and exactly what all those warning were about." Fitz explained.

"Oh come on, Fitz, you know she smacked your bum when you used that language with the magistrate in Sheffield." Jemma laughed, reminding him of another time he failed to heed her warnings.

"Believe me a couple swats on the backside in the doorway of my room was nothing compared to the Christmas Blitz." He informed her.

Skye let out a wet laugh. "Really? You named it?" She snickered until Trip wrapped a hand around her mouth and pulled her back against his chest.

"He deserved it and leave it at that or I might have to share the story of the time someone I know found out where the fire started when they played with matches." Trip whispered in her ear. Skye laughed and shook her head, trying to pull his hand away, although his grip was light. Fitz and Jemma laughed as well. Finally, Trip dropped his hand and the laughter faded.

"So then what happened?" Skye asked, needing to hear more of this 'before you were born' kinda story big brothers and sisters tell younger kids.

"Well, sad to say that poor little tree didn't get decorated that night." Jemma sighed

xx

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me, Fitz." Melinda held the little boy in front of her, wiping tears from his eyes.

"I don't want to talk," Fitz hiccoughed. "I don't want to…" He sobbed but refused to allow her to comfort him.

"I'm very sorry, Fitz but I can't allow this behavior, not now or ever." Melinda spoke softly to the now very upset boy. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, but you've been told what would happen." She gave him time to reply but he merely balled his small fists holding his arms straight at his sides. "Okay then, lets go wash your face and then you can finish your dinner." He looked at her in almost disbelief. "Yes, little boy, you are going to eat your dinner and then you will clean up this fine mess you've made." She looked at the tossed room, apparently done by Fitz in a fit of temper after school. Books and toys lay strewn around everywhere, the lower bunk mattress pulled off and tilted to one side. "Then I will help you take a bath and it's bedtime."

Fitz rubbed a finger under his nose and sniffed deeply. "I di' not need help bathing." He mumbled as he stepped around Melinda heading for the bathroom.

"I think you do." She smiled as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He shrugged her off and stepped faster to stay ahead of her. "Tonight you take a real bath, not just run the water and swish the soap around." Melinda leaned against the door frame as Fitz stood on tiptoe to reach the sink and splash cool water on his cried out blotchy face. He pulled the small towel from the rack and rubbed the drops away then dropped it on the countertop. Melinda pointed to the rack and he complied, returning the item to its proper place. He stepped around her again and walked slowly back to the kitchen.

Phil had finished his meal and sat nursing a mug of coffee. He'd placed Melinda's favorite china cup at her place. The matching tea pot was set there as well. Trip had cleaned away the dishes from his and Phil's places, scraped, rinsed and placed them in the dishwasher. He enjoyed a mug of coffee with Phil as they shared a few cookies one of the neighbors had sent as a holiday gift. Jemma still moved the food around slowly on her plate, having nibbled on one green bean and swallowed two sips of milk. Phil lifted his head as Fitz slid slowly back on to his chair and picked up his fork.

Melinda gave her husband a quick nod and sat down. "Jemma, you need to eat more than one bite of a bean. I really do not have the energy to go through a second round of dinner drama but if I have to…" She smiled as the little girl forced a swallow of mashed potatoes followed by another polite sip of milk. The woman gave a quick smile. "Three beans, three tastes of potatoes and three bites of chicken," she informed the girl. Jemma nodded and took another drink.

After dinner Trip cleaned the table with Jemma's help. Fitz was excused from the nightly chore to complete the directions Melinda had given him earlier. Melinda ran his bath and waited outside the door until he was in the sudsy water. She'd added enough bubble bath to let him keep his modesty as well as his mini-manhood and sat on the closed toilet lid making sure he scrubbed everything scrubbable, including his curly hair. She squeezed her eyes tight and held out a large towel for him to step into and rubbed him dry, speaking to him about mostly nothing, just trivial things like the broadcast for snow and the fact that three tenants had been stuck in the elevator for a half an hour that afternoon. She left the room for him to dress taking all the dirty laundry with her and making sure he had clean undergarments as those she took looked to have been worn for at least three days. She'd told him many times he did not need to wear the same shorts for days, that he had a drawer full and if he grew out of them she would get him more.

Fitz hung up the towel he'd used and pulled the step Phil had provided for him and Jemma to the front of the sink so he could look into the mirror while he brushed his teeth. He looked into the mirror and frowned at himself for his rotten behavior. He wondered what his maw would think. He wondered if she would think about it at all, not that she didn't care, but she was so sick all the time that she mostly didn't notice his use of 'colorful' words or rather nasty comments. Either that or she just accepted it a lot better than these Yanks with all their rules and baths and bedtimes.

It had been almost four months since he'd come to live with Phil Coulson and his wife. He still didn't think the woman liked him very much. She was always on him about something. Comb your hair, Fitz. Tie your shoes, Fitz. Brush your teeth, make your bed, pick up your coat, watch your mouth, take a bath, change your pants…she was always, always downn him about something. He thought for a moment. She never went on about any of that nonsense with Jemma…perfect Jemma who did everything right. Huh, except eating. She never ate anything, spit most of it in her bl… He stopped himself mid-thought wondering if Melinda could hear him thinking. Although the idea was preposterous he wasn't taking any chances. His backside still smarted from her last impression of his use of unacceptable vernacular. He finished brushing, used the loo, washed his hands (because he knew she'd ask) and stepped into the hall.

Melinda was waiting and swept out an arm for him to proceed. Fitz took a few steps toward his room and stopped. "You don't have to tuck me in. I'm not a wee lad that needs all that fuss." He spoke without turning around.

"No you're not, but I think I'd like to anyway. You might not need the fuss, but I think I do." Melinda smiled at the back of the little boy's head.

A warm feeling spread over Fitz, one he didn't really recognize but he liked it. Maybe she did like him…a little bit anyway. "I'll not get out of bed. I'll do as you say."

Melinda stepped behind him and ran a hand through his slightly damp locks. "I know you will, bao bao." She smiled, surprised and pleased when he didn't brush her off.

"What's bow bow?" The little boy asked as he allowed her to escort him through the door.

Melinda lifted the blankets and waited for Fitz to climb in. "It means sweetheart," she lied, knowing the boy would be mortified to be called 'baby'.

"Is it Chinese?" Fitz asked as he settled into his pillow and folded his hands over his chest.

"Mandarin," Melinda nodded.

"Teach me?" Fitz asked quietly, looking away in case she refused.

Melinda sat on the edge of the bunk. "I would love to, baobao. We will start with something simple. "Wǒ ài nǐ," Melinda spoke slowly. She held out her hand in a stop motion repeating, whoa. She pointed to her eye and her then knee, repeating the other two syllables. Fitz repeated the phrase slowly then a little faster, trying to imitate her inflection as well as pronunciation.

The little boy smiled for the first time in weeks. Then repeated the phrase again. "What does it mean?"

"Before I tell you, I want you to know that is it the most important Mandarin phrase I will ever teach you and I will say it to you every day for as long as fate allows. Do you believe that?"

Fitz nodded and took a deep breath. It probably meant something like change your under-drawers every day.

"It means 'I love you' Fitz. I love you today and tomorrow and always, even when you're a little hooligan." Melinda smiled, ignoring the blush in the little boy's cheeks.

He didn't argue or protest just looked deep into her eyes searching for the truth in her statement, silently praying it was there somewhere he couldn't see yet because deep down under all his anger and resentment he loved this woman more than he ever thought he would or could and despite all the nagging on him she was the best person in his life.

Melinda tucked the blankets up to his chin as Fitz rolled to his side and tucked his hands under his cheek. She wanted so much to kiss him but knew he was not ready for that step. Instead she ran a hand over his hair and across his shoulder. "Wǎn'ān, Fitz." She stood and walked toward the door as the little boy sat up quickly.

"Good night?" he smiled, already knowing the answer. She smiled and nodded as he lay down. Melinda flicked off the light and slowly pulled closed the door.

"Wǎn'ān, Mel…" he practiced the term out loud then turned into his pillow whispering, "wǒ ài nǐ."

Melinda stood outside the door, wiping a tear formed on the breath of a little boy's whisper

xx

Stepping into the living room she watched for a moment as Phil wrapped the new set of lights around the small tree. He plugged them in and stepped back to watch them twinkle in a rainbow of color.

"I thought you liked them all white." She stated as she stepped behind him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

He smiled a sad smile. "I thought the kids would prefer a bit of color." He let out a sigh. "I don't think they care.

Melinda looked around at the empty room and asked with her eyes.

"Trip begged to go across the hall after Jemma complained of a stomach ache and went to her room." Melinda took a step toward the girl's door stopped by Phil's hand on her wrist. "I'm pretty sure it was a ploy just to get out of this. I'm not going to force them Mel and after Fitz's drama…well, I think the fun's just gone out of it." He frowned as he flicked off the lights. "Not that there was any to begin with."

Melinda pulled her 'big kid' into a tight hug and kissed his temple. "Guess it's just you and me then isn't it." She released him and picked up a shiny red bulb from the box then placed it on the tree. She turned as the voice of Bing Crosby crooning White Christmas filled the room. Phil appeared from the kitchen with two goblets and a bottle of wine. He popped the cork and poured then held out a glass to her. Melinda took it and plinked it against his before taking a bit more than a sip.

Thirty minutes later, the couple sat on the couch and stared at the sad little tree. Melinda had chosen to forgo all of the ornaments they'd collected on their journeys and hung only plain green, red, blue and gold balls of varying sizes. A few strands of garland were wrapped around the little thing and a small gold star glittered at the top.

"It kinda looks like we all feel." Phil remarked as he sipped his wine and wrapped his arm around his wife.

Melinda rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you think she'll even get a gift? Do you think she knows about Santa? Oh, gawd, Phil what if…what if…" She was in tears before he could put down his drink and wrap her in his embrace.

"Don't think that way, Mel." Phil whispered in her ear. "It'll work out. She'll be here, one way or another. I know it. It's just meant to be." He tried to convince both of them as he kissed the top of her head. "I'm sure Mary Claire will make sure Skye has what she needs. And that Johnson bi… he stopped himself remembering Fitz's predicament. "Witch," he corrected. "That Johnson witch said she couldn't come here. She didn't say anything about us visiting her."

Melinda sobbed harder. "I don't think I could go there without taking her with me, Phil. I just can't let her go again."

"Aunt Mel?" Jemma's soft voice interrupted.

Melinda quickly wiped her tears and sat up, pulling on a serious face. "Jemma, sweetie, what's wrong?" she stood and took a step toward the girl.

"I'm fine, Aunt Mel, but…I just…just wanted to apologize for…for all this." She held out her hand toward the room. "I've just been a horrid person and probably deserved just punishment."

Melinda gathered the little girl into a hug. "Oh, baobao you've done nothing wrong. We're all just having a hard time with all…this." She put out her hand in the same way.

Phil stood as well. "Jemma, none of this is your fault. It's just something none of us can control, but it will get better." He put a hand on the back of the little girl's head. "I know this is hard for everyone, but we're here for you and for Fitz and for Trip. That's what families do."

"But are we, really," Jemma looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "Are we really a family?"

"We're trying to be." Melinda smiled weakly. "I guess it's a process, like anything else it takes time."

Jemma looked down and felt a large tear drop on to the back of her hand. "I haven't been trying very hard lately." She mumbled.

Phil placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head. "I don't think any of us have, princess. I think we've all been so stuck in our own troubles we haven't been letting the others in to help. Maybe we should take a little baby step and see what happens." Jemma pursed her lips and nodded as the tears ran over her cheeks. Phil scooped her up and kissed her temple.

"First we get you back to bed, it's after ten and you need to be up early. Then I'm going to collect young Trip and get him into bed." He smiled as he moved toward the little girl's room with Melinda following.

While Melinda tucked an exhausted little girl who did allow kisses and hugs into bed, Phil tapped on the Triplett's apartment door. It took a little longer than he liked for the young boy to pull it open just enough to stick out his head.

"S'getting late, bud. Time to turn in. School night, ya know." He informed the boy, eyeing him suspiciously. Trip was almost fifteen and vulnerable to all the temptations of teens…visions of drugs and gangs swept across Phil's mind each followed by a 'no, not Trip' voice in his head. 'Yeah,' he told himself. 'So said every parent of every delinquent in juvy.'

Trip hemmed and hawed a bit and shuffled his feet in an attempt to keep the door not quite closed but certainly not opened. "Another twenty minutes, Mr. C, I promise, twenty minutes." The boy seemed desperate as he looked over his shoulder into the apartment.

Phil sniffed once, then again. Was something burning? He put a hand on the door. "Something on fire, Trip?" He started to push against the door but the boy was already gone.

"Oh, no, no, no, no…" Trip was pleading as he rushed to the kitchen, pulled open the oven door and grabbed a sheet of blackened gingerbread men. He was almost in tears.

Phil looked around at the condition of the apartment. A small decorated tree twinkled in the corner of the parlor. Several wrapped gifts set under it. Every available flat surface was covered with dishes, boxes and platters of cookies. The sink was overflowing with bowls and cooking utensils and it seemed the floor was covered with a soft sheen of flour.

"Trip…I…I…really don't even know what to say." Phil was in awe.

"It was the last of them, only six…I still have four dozen." He nodded toward the table where an army of decorated gingerbread men lay.

"I mean…I mean…" Phil spread his arms and Trip followed with his eyes.

The boy looked down, almost ashamed at the feat he had accomplished. "My…my gram makes cookies for the kids Christmas party at the church every year. I…I couldn't let them down. It means a lot to her." He spoke to his shoes.

Phil moved closer and wrapped an arm around the boy. "I am totally impressed." He nodded as a wide smile covered his face and he one arm hugged Trip. "You did all this yourself? This is what you've been doing over here?" Trip nodded as he wiped his hands in the dish towel he still held.

"Are you mad?" The boy asked solemnly.

"Mad?" Phil looked around again and shook his head. "Well, yeah I guess I am…a little."

Trip let out a breath and waited for the axe to fall.

"More like upset that you didn't ask us for help, Trip. Melinda and I would have done whatever you needed and…where'd you get the money for all this?"

Trip stepped away and picked up a ceramic snowman. He removed its head and reached inside. "Me and gram put change and stuff in here all year. It's our Christmas fund. We use it for this and in case we need something for someone. I used the money I saved myself too." He pulled out a hand full of bills and change. "There's still about five dollars left." He smiled.

Phil pulled out his billfold and slid a twenty into the headless snowman. "That's for the bunt ones." He explained before Trip protested. "My bad," he shrugged.

"You and Mrs. C's got your hands full with the little ones and well they aren't havin' such a great time of it. I couldn't ask you to do this too. It wouldn't be fair after all you've done for me and gram, lettin' me stay with you and all."

Phil shook his head. "We would gladly help, Trip and I bet getting Fitz and Jemma involved would help them too. After all, the best way to forget your own troubles is to help someone else with theirs."

Trip nodded. It made sense. Doing all this helped him forget how scared he was and talking to gram every night while he was here just to let her know everything was going to be ready for those kids at church made him feel even better. "Guess I wasn't thinking, huh?" He asked with a shrug.

Phil smiled and mock cuffed him in the chin. "Come on, I'll help you clean this up and get you to bed before midnight. Maybe even let you sleep in a little in the morning with an excuse for the principal." The man let out a long breath, headed for the sink and began rinsing dishes before delving into washing them.

Trip smiled and grabbed a broom.

xx

The next week went a little smoother. Melinda and Phil met the kids at the Triplett's apartment after school and helped with the rest of the baking, even getting the twins involved despite a hesitant start. Jemma suggested a cranberry orange biscuit and Melinda put everyone in the office on the hunt for a recipe.

Fitz wondered if they could create a shortbread. He'd never actually tasted it but it looked good and his maw had always promised someday…. Melinda jumped at the chance to grant his wish and quickly had a simple recipe from one of the secretaries at work. Grace MacLaughlin was a wonderful cook and her Scottish grandmother provided most of the recipes.

Trip took charge and gave the orders as the cookie loot built to the point Phil thought he'd need a hand truck to get them to the cars, yes cars. All of these goodies would not fit in just one and still leave room for three kids and two adults.

Jemma's cookies filled the kitchen with a spicy aroma. She smiled as she watched them rise in the oven and turn golden brown. Trip pulled out the two trays and set them to cool on the top of the stove. Jemma stood and took a deep breath then turned and smiled at her older brother.

"It smells like my house." She stated before bursting into tears and running from the apartment with Melinda close behind.

Trip made to follow but Phil stopped him, telling him it would be fine. Melinda could handle it.

"She's been pretty upset about Skye," Phil explained and the boy nodded. "All this is helping her too and seeing to Jemma is something they both need."

"Are we going to do the shortbread now?" Fitz's voice piped up from between them. The little boy wiped the back of his hand across the tip of his nose leaving a spot of flour there. "I won't cry or dash about. I just want to eat them." He smiled.

Trip tousled his hair and Phil poked at his ribs bringing back the giggle he'd missed the past few weeks.

"Okay, men, I guess this one is up to us." Phil announced as he grabbed a bowl and pointed to the recipe card.

By the time Melinda returned with Jemma in tow, Fitz had finished off half the shortbread. Trip and Phil were starting a second batch. The little boy sat on the counter and appeared to have more ingredients on him than there were in the bowl. Melinda shook her head.

"I tasted yours, too." Fitz informed Jemma. "They're quite good but not as delicious as these. He popped another shortbread in his mouth and rubbed his tummy with delight. "I think my maw would have liked these. Her maw used to make them but I dint know my gran so I guess these are the best."

Jemma smiled politely and shook her head when Fitz held the plate of cranberry-orange cookies out to her.

The little boy leaned over and whispered to the girl. "Oh, come on then ya dolt. Ya went through all the trouble makin' them, give a little taste."

Jemma smiled and reluctantly took the smallest cookie she could find and nibbled the edge. She smiled and nodded at Fitz who set down the plate and shook his head.

Phil slapped his hands together and looked at his watch. "Eee-yaa, six o clock already…good thing it's Friday. Let's get this mess cleaned up and I'll order the pizza. Any requests?" He asked as he pulled out his phone and began dialing. Everyone shouted a different topping as he tried to speak to the pizzeria above the clamor.

Saturday morning the make-shift family delivered all of the cookies to the Mt. Gilead Baptist Church. They agreed to stay as workers, not as guests and helped the staff of the community serve lunch, goodies and treats to over a hundred children. Melinda saw Skye's face in every one of them but held back the tears hoping that across town some other generous souls were doing the same for the baby she would hold in her arms very soon. Before the children left there was a visit from Santa and every child received a new winter coat complete with hats, scarfs and mittens. The makeshift Coulson family shared a meal with the Pastor and his family before heading for home. Phil dropped Melinda and the kids at the apartment building where Melinda promised to bake yet another batch of shortbread for Fitz who had willingly given all of what Phil and Trip baked to the church.

Phil continued on with Trip and a plate full of goodies and thank you-s for his gram. They'd spend the rest of the evening with the woman as she shared small gifts with her grandson and made sure he'd take a few for the two new additions to the Coulson family. Trip worried to the point he felt he would vomit as he watched Phil speaking quietly and seriously with two of the doctors at the desk at the end of the hall. His grandmother pulled him to wheel her into the community room where she could join in the singing of carols with her fellow patients and the staff. Trip joined as well and was highly embarrassed when his grandmother pressed him into playing the piano for the group.

"I didn't scrimp and save for all those lessons for nothing, boy." She kissed his forehead and slapped his backside as he walked to the keyboard and did his best to lead the carolers.

By the time they arrived home the twins were long asleep and Melinda dozed on the couch. She rose as soon as they entered. Trip had stopped Phil outside the elevator finally getting up enough courage to ask if his grandmother was doing well. Phil looked at him with a furrowed brow and assured him everything was fine and she was doing better every day. Trip watched as the man walked away, not really believing him but also knowing Phil Coulson would not lie to him. He greeted Melinda with a nod, said good night and quietly slipped into the room he shared with Fitz.

"Any chance I can get some of that shortbread," Phil smiled as he kissed Melinda who had wrapped her arms around his waist.

She nodded. "I made two batches. The plate is on the table."

"Wooo-hooo, you left it out within his reach," Phil laughed referring to the little boy with the bottomless pit for a stomach.

"I think he's had his fill." Melinda smiled as she patted his chest. "Threw up twice before I got him settled."

Phil laughed as well as they walked together to the kitchen. "He'll feel better and he'll start all over in the morning."

Melinda let out a long sigh. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve…"

"Yep," he hugged her tighter.

xx

The day started like any other school holiday. The kids slept late and Phil prepared a big breakfast that included everything everyone liked. Fitz, true to form, had forgotten all about his upset tummy and dove into all of the breakfast foods he relished. Trip was no slouch. He was twice as big and ate three times as much as the little guy.

Jemma chose a slice of French Toast and a glass of orange juice, neither of which she finished even a quarter. Melinda frowned but let it go.

Phil gave up his Reformed Jewish tradition for this one night of the year and looked forward to the ham Melinda would bake with pineapples and cherries and cloves and brown sugar and his mouth watered just thinking about it. She'd make that pineapple casserole as well. He almost wished the day away.

Phil sent everyone to get dressed and volunteered to clean up the kitchen mess on his own. Once that was complete and everyone was dressed he handed them their coats and grabbed a strange shaped case from the back of the hall closet. Melinda smiled and walked back to the bedrooms emerging with an armful of heavy sweaters before following the crew out the door and into the elevator.

Although the kids begged for some kind of hint as to where they were going Phil kept his mouth closed and eyes on the road as they drove for what seemed like hours. They made one pit stop for gas and the necessary dashes to the rest rooms then continued on until he pulled off the road and followed a narrow winding rocky road to a stop in a grove of pine trees.

"I considered the rink." He smiled at Melinda's unasked question. "But I like it here a lot more." He squeezed her hand and opened the door commanding that everyone else did the same.

Fitz blinked in the bright afternoon sun and pulled his cap over his ears. "It's a bit nippy for a hike in the wild." He shoved his mitten covered hands in his pockets and looked up at Trip with a hint of worry. Trip shrugged his shoulders as Jemma slid her hand into his.

Phil had moved the rear of the SUV and pulled open the door. "Okay, we've got a few things to do but I think we can get it done quickly. I used to be a Scout." He nodded to Trip as the young boy moved next to him. "Made it all the way to Eagle," he smiled with pride. "So," he grunted as he pulled a cylindrical metallic object forward and passed it to Trip. The boy dropped his sister's hand and wrapped his arms around the object.

"I'm always prepared." Phil smiled as he reached inside again and pulled a bundle of sticks held together with twine free and dropped them into Fitz's arms. "You guys take that over there," he pointed toward a copse of trees about ten feet away as he pulled a large wheeled cooler out and set it on the ground. He handed Melinda three large thermoses, then pulled free a box and followed the crew to the spot he had pointed out.

Trip and Fitz had stopped as they emerged from the tree line, amazed at the view of the large frozen pond. A circle of rocks and large logs rounded a dark spot on the ground where Phil directed them to set the metal object as he walked around them. He waited until Trip set it down then pulled newspaper from the box he had set on a nearby boulder and rolled it into balls. "Okay, guys make about twenty of these and toss 'em in here." He lifted the top of the metal cylinder. "I'll be right back." He looked down at Jemma. "Come on, princess, you can help."

Two trips later Phil had everything he needed. He took the sticks Fitz had carried and showed the kids how to create a teepee out of them on top of the wadded up paper then struck a stick match against the side of the metal and dropped it inside. The paper lit quickly and in no time transferred the flame to the dry kindling he had added. Carefully Phil added two large thick pieces of dried pine to the flame and watched as they licked the sides igniting a healthy campfire.

"When I was a kid, we did this all the time." He looked around at the barren landscape. "Course we had a lot more snow in Wisconsin. But this'll do." He nodded as he held his hands over the fire for a moment then joined Melinda and Jemma on one of the large flat logs.

Fitz looked around for a moment then turned back to Phil. "Someone must have been here in the past." He surmised.

"Phil smiled as he put an arm around his wife. "Yep, Melinda and I've been here almost every year since we met. Used to come here with the other kids at the Academy, but things change and people grow away and have their lives. But, well we just kept coming back." He leaned over and pulled a pair of black ice skates from behind the log. "Used to skate a lot as a kid, Wisconsin…ice hockey. Played a bit, never really good, but I liked skating and well Melinda…"

"You played hockey!" Trip's eyes went wide as he stammered out the question before Fitz had a chance.

"Figure skating," Melinda corrected as she pulled out the odd shaped case and opened it revealing her own white skates. "Competed until I was twelve."

Jemma passed her hand gently over the gleaming skates. "Why did you stop?"

"I got tired of falling down," Melinda laughed. "So I took up martial arts where the mats are a lot softer than the ice." She tapped Jemma's nose with her finger tip. "And a lot warmer too."

Phil pulled the large box he'd carried from the car placed it in front of himself and opened it revealing four new sets of skates. "Guess you guys are going to have to take up the hobby as well, I mean you can't just sit here and watch every year."

Trip pulled out the largest pair of skates and stared at them. "You mean you want us to put these on and got out there?" He nodded toward the pond.

"Yep, and I've seen you on a skateboard and roller blades, Trip so I know you've got it in you." Phil laughed at the pained look on the boy's face.

"Yeah, but the pavement isn't so….so…slippery." Trip reasoned as he dropped down on the log opposite where the girls sat. Melinda was already lacing a skate on Jemma's foot. It was just as white as hers but had bright pink sparkly laces.

Fitz picked up the last pair of black skates and tapped his finger on the thick blades. He sighed at the small white skates left in the box, quickly lowered the flap and pushed it aside as he dropped next to Jemma on the log. "I'm not all that certain my bum is ready to bounce around on that hard surface." He moaned before looking at the blades a second time. "I believe the blades are thicker for beginners, giving them more sense of balance."

"Very good, Fitz," Melinda smiled as she tied Jemma's second skate and began to put on her own.

Phil moved next to Fitz and slipped off his boot. "I'll have you up and flying across that ice in no time, little man." He smiled at Fitz's worry then leaned forward and whispered. "Don't worry the ice kinda numbs the pain." The little boy's eyebrows knit into a state of fear as Phil laughed again.

It took more than 'no time' but all three kids caught on quickly and with their teachers were soon trying it on their own. Trip found that in-line skating was in fact a lot like this ice stuff and was soon trying a few tricks of his own. Fitz did bounce his bottom off the ice more than a few times but got back up and kept trying, putting every mathematical theory in his little head to work to figure out a proper stance for balance. The first time he traveled the length of the pond on his own without falling he raised his arms in victory. Jemma took slow steady strides and did exactly as Melinda, imitating every move with exact precision and mastered the art a few minutes before young Fitz, but within the hour all had shed their heavy coats in favor of the sweaters Melinda had brought and were skating off on their own as Melinda and Phil went arm in arm around the perimeter of the pond.

When the cold and the hard surface finally got to everyone there was hot cocoa and wieners to roast on the now blazing fire. By the time they had one last skate and then one real last skate and then one really and truly last skate the sun was dropping low in the sky. Phil had let the fire die and placed the cylinder in the open field to let it cool before putting back in the SUV. Skates went back into the box with the promise of returning soon and visiting the nearby ice rink at home. The car was repacked and all three kids were asleep before Phil hit the highway and headed back to the city.

xx

It was well after six when they arrived home, with wide awake kids that teased and argued all the way up to their floor in the elevator about who did what the fastest and who could do what better and what kind of tricks they'd be ready to try next time and when would they go again.

Melinda shuffled Jemma into a hot bath in the master suite and put Trip in charge of making sure Fitz did in fact get into the tub.

The apartment filled with the aroma of the ham she had left in the slow cooker while they were out. She threw together her pineapple casserole and popped it in the oven before fishing Jemma out of the tub and snuggling her into the special Christmas pajamas she had purchased. The little girl smiled down at the Santa suit clad teddy bears holding green and red packages and threw her arms around Melinda. She squeezed her tightly knowing that somewhere there was an identical pair a few sizes smaller.

Fitz emerged from the hall bathroom clad in deep red PJ's trimmed in dark green. He smiled at Melinda and informed her Trip was in the shower, all the way in the shower. She tousled his hair and pointed both of them to the living room with the added instruction to stay out of trouble while she too washed off the day's grime and warmed her body in a hot shower.

WARNING-WARNING-WARNING- WARNING-WARNING-WARNING

The following paragraphs contains more mature subject matter

If you find this offensive, please skip to end of this section

Phil stepped in next to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind as she let the hot water drench her dark hair. She stepped back and turned into him. "Who's minding the store?" She hummed as she let her head drop on his wet chest."

"Oh, I think my man Trip has it covered. Love the t-shirt and sweats by the way." Phil referred to the dark green sweats and gray T the boy sported as he shuffled into the living room. "I'm a big elf? Really, Mel? I think Fitz is still rolling on the floor…that is if Trip hasn't tossed him into the hallway."

"Hey, everyone needs Christmas PJ's. Wait til you see yours…" She laughed into his chest.

Phil laughed back. "I think they enjoyed the day."

"Mmmm, hmm," Melinda hummed as she closed her eyes and let the water sting her back as she held Phil against her front. It was the most relaxed she'd felt in ages.

"He brought out Monopoly. The way Fitz goes at it, they'll be busy for hours." Phil smiled as he kissed the top of her head.

She leaned back and stared up at him for a moment before he took her in a passionate kiss, bringing her to her toes to meet him in it. When she fell back, only standing because he held her in place she took a moment to regain her breath. "Did you lock the door?" She exhaled close to him as he caressed her back, bringing a shiver although the water was still warm.

"Both of them," Phil smiled with his eyes closed as he pulled her closer and felt her body meld into his. She moaned softly remembering the thin walls of the apartment and slowly wrapped her legs around his midsection completing the circle that made them one.

Phil lowered her back to the shower floor and let out a breath as he moved his face under the spray of water, turning her away from it. Her eyes were still closed as he pulled her back into his arms and she once again encircled him. He lifted her higher and watched as she arched back just enough for him to suckle one breast and then the other relishing the soft moans that came from her and the quiver that ran from her body into his. He lowered her slowly coming to her again as she met his hips. The water fell over both of them, igniting their passion as it ran cool over their hot bodies.

She pulled him closer vibrating with every second she felt him complete her, feeling the low growl in his chest resonate with her higher pitched sigh. He held her against him pushing both closer as each filled the other with their passion. When he finally withdrew and released her she slid limp in his arms as he nibbled her neck and leaned back against the cool tile of the shower in order to hold both steady.

He reached behind and turned off the water, then opened the sliding door and grabbed a towel large enough to wrap around them both. They stepped from the stall and moved toward the bed falling again to the call of their need for one another. He massaged her breasts as she gently pulled her short nails across his back, each bringing the other closer until he once again suckled her gently inciting that purr he could not resist. She pulled him up to once again share a kiss that sent him to her. He rolled to his back and exhaled as she allowed him entrance and swelled with his presence. She fell exhausted on to his chest allowing their bodies to simply touch as they recovered.

Melinda looked up and kissed him one last long time before rising. Both dressed and joined hands as they walked into the parlor and rejoined their family.

(Okay, so the kids wouldn't have remembered this scene but it just fit and well, Phil and Mel haven't had any adult time in a while and heck it needed a little Philinda…)

xx

"Eeewww, that's disgusting!" Skye snarled as she hit Trip hard with the closest pillow she could grab.

"Well, they were in there an awfully long time…" Fitz smirked.

Skye threw the pillow at him, knocking him backward with the force. "You were just a kid, what did you know?"

"Enough," Fitz laughed as he sat up and tossed the pillow back at her, which she easily deflected.

"Great now I need mind bleach, yech! I'll never get that picture out of my head. Geez, Trip they're our parents!" She socked him in the shoulder. He feigned the pain her small hand could not inflict on his muscular bicep.

"Well, that's what I would have done if I had a beautiful wo…" He was silenced by the pillow shoved in his face.

"TRIP!" Skye shrieked. "Now I'll need a double dose of that mind bleach." She rose up on her knees and tried to force her brother over with the pillow still in his face. Jemma and Fitz laughed at their sibling's folly.

Trip easily out maneuvered the young girl, quickly pulled her across his lap and raised a hand over her backside. She put her free hand back and kicked wildly as Trip hung on to the other arm. Trip laughed as he dropped his hand to an inch above its target. Skye screamed and struggled valiantly but in vain.

"Give it to her, Trip," Fitz laughed. "She probably deserves it for something we aren't aware she's done or had some hand in."

Jemma shook her head. "Okay, enough," she warned softly. "Someone's going to get hurt."

"Playing favorites, Jemma? Didn't seem so eager to stop the nonsense when this little one was trying to suffocate me," Trip laughed through his teeth, again dropping his hand in jest.

Skye cringed in anticipation. "Come on, Trip, it's not funny," she whined trying to pull her arm from his grip.

"Nope," he replied popping the 'p' as he let his hand drop firmly on Skye's bottom. "It's not, but you were asking for it."

"OUCH!" Skye wailed as he released her and she immediately attempted to rub off the sting.

Jemma grimaced in sympathy.

"I'm tellin'!" Skye shrieked as she bounced up and down on her knees continuing to massage her indignation.

For a moment everyone was silent, staring from one to the other until they burst into laughter and Trip opened his arms to his baby sister. She fell into them and mocked cried. "That really hurt, Trip."

He kissed the top of her head as she plunked down in the space created by his crisscrossed legs. "Good," he laughed again as she pouted.

"So, do you want to hear the rest?" Jemma asked wriggling her eyebrows.

"Am I in it?" Skye continued to pout.

"We told you it was before you were here." Fitz remarked as he tossed a nut into his mouth. He had snatched a handful from a nearby candy dish Melinda had strategically located throughout the house.

Skye slumped in Trip's lap causing him to chuckle as he wrapped her in a bear hug. "Well, we all enjoyed the ham, pineapple casserole and whatever else we have had that night." Trip continued as he rested his chin on Skye's head. "Then things really got heavy…"

xx

With the kitchen cleaned and everyone full of ham and casserole the odd little family relaxed in their sparsely decorated living room. Phil started to turn on the lights of the small sad tree but stopped when Jemma asked him to let it remain unlit. He nodded and sat back down, pulling the little girl close to his side. She snuggled into his hug.

The five sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, memories of Christmases past that brought some joy and others too much pain to face.

"The year my dad died, I just turned nine. It was the last day of school." Phil broke the silence speaking to no one in particular but knowing all eyes as well as ears were on him. "He had a heart attack in the parking lot. He was gone before mom and I got to the hospital. We never got to really say goodbye." He paused for a moment remembering a day he'd hadn't thought about in a very long time. Jemma reached out and took his hand in hers. He smiled down at her.

"Things were different then. Kids were left out of a lot. I remember my mom crying and a lot of people hugging her and then me, before I even knew what happened. They didn't let me see him, until the funeral home and no one took the time to explain anything. I don't remember a lot because, well I just got shuffled from neighbor to neighbor to relative to neighbor until it was over and there was just my mom and I and the quiet."

"That's the worst part," Jemma whispered. "When everyone is gone and all you have is the silence of them not being there."

Phil pulled the little girl into his lap and kissed the top of her head as he looked to Melinda. Trip and Fitz sat on the floor shuffling cards on the coffee table as the elder boy tried to teach the younger the game of poker. Several foil covered chocolate balls were piled in a bowl in front of them.

Fitz kept quiet but knew that silence long before his knew his mother had passed. Trip blinked quickly suddenly hit with a memory of someone he'd all but forgotten.

"We kinda just went back to living our lives, doing what we needed to do to get by. We weren't well off but my dad made sure we had enough to live on with is pension from the school and the money he'd put aside for years. Everything was sorta okay until Christmas." He paused for a moment as Jemma turned her face into his shoulder. "That's when it really hit home. Everything we did together was just so hard without him and," he laughed, "and we were Jewish…well half anyway. My mom was Catholic so we always celebrated both…until that year. Hanukkah came and went without me even knowing," he thought for a moment. "Never really celebrated it again."

Jemma let out a soft sob and he hugged her closer. "We put up a tree and decorated it, but mom didn't bake. There were presents, more than usual actually. I think I got everything I wanted and it meant nothing because what I really wanted would never be there again. I went out the garage, climbed into that old Chevy and cried for hours so my mom wouldn't see." He wiped a tear away quickly as Melinda moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

"We used to walk down the streets and look into the windows of the houses with the best trees. Maw and I would try to guess how many ornaments they had and how many people lived there. Sometimes we'd go to church, cuz it was warm and you could stay as long as you liked and the shops gave sweets away for nothing." Fitz sighed as he looked away into the darkest corner of the room, "once we had turkey dinner with some soldiers and one gave me a little pocket knife. I still have it too." He announced proudly then quickly added, "it's put away, I never carry it about." Melinda smiled her approval while Phil gave him a quick wink and Trip offered a gentle shoulder bump. He jumped up on his knees and rested his arms on the table. "The best was the time we had a little flat and maw got a real tree. It dint have lights but we made decorations from paper and tin. She dint get sick but once and there was a little present from Father Christmas under the tree because we had a real place." He sat back down and shook his head. "It was a mathematics book with lots of problems. Some of the pages were torn and used but I finished all the others." He sat down and became quiet before barely speaking. "It was the last real Christmas we had."

Melinda squeezed Phil's hand realizing her little boy was so enthralled by something his mother had probably pulled from someone's trash. He remembered it as his best Christmas and it broke her heart. Downstairs in that dark storage room was enough packages for Father Christmas to make three or four trips up in the elevator and yet this would remain Fitz's best.

"Ya'll know what my gram and I do for Christmas." Trip began, admiring Fitz's bravery at sharing his own story. "We've done it as long as I can remember and yeah the year my Pops died it was real hard but gram said there were those who needed cheer more than we did because they felt bad all the time not just once a year. So we did what we did." Trip shrugged his shoulders as he dealt the cards. He looked at Fitz for a long time and found it almost impossible that across a whole ocean a little white kid was living almost the same life he had. "I hear ya, little man. My mom was…" he looked to Melinda and then Phil, "well she was sick for a long time too and we didn't have much. Lived in an old car for a bit before the people from CYS took her away and brought me to my Gram and Pops. She did get better once in a while and I've got a little green dump truck Santa brought one year when we stayed at a shelter. I know she probably stole it but heck I was five and it was a present." He shrugged his shoulders again and motioned for Fitz to pick up his cards.

Jemma wiggled out of Phil's embrace and sat up on his lap. "We would have a grand party and all those from the university would come. There would be a marvelous tree and all sorts of sweets. I'd get to stay up late and watch it all. We'd sing carols and toast with homemade nog. When they'd all go home we'd sit and admire our beautiful tree and dad would tell stories of Christmases when he was a boy in Dover. I'd wake up in my bed the next morning not even remembering when I fell asleep." The little girl smiled through her tears as Phil pulled her back into a warm hug.

Everyone looked to Melinda who had yet to share one of her memories. She'd listened to all and in between ran through the years she spent at boarding school and with her father in California. The years she and Phil had been together and that horrible December they learned they would never bring a child into the world. Nothing seemed appropriate to share and she was almost relieved when a soft rap at the door interrupted they little story telling session.

Phil looked at the clock as he passed Jemma to Melinda and rose to answer it. "Who in the world could be at our door at this hour? It's half past nine." He shrugged his shoulders and put out his hands as he peered through the peek hole. He could not contain the smile that crossed his lips as he opened all three locks and pulled the door open while at the same time calling to Melinda to join him.

"I really hope it isn't too late," Sr. Mary Clair smiled as she hefted a dozie Skye from one hip to the other. "I had to wait until…well until it was safe to travel."

Melinda stood behind her husband in disbelief for a second before pushing him aside and pulling the woman inside. The nun held the little girl on her hip and a small pink cardboard suitcase in the other.

Skye yawned and swiped her face across the nun's coat twice before digging a fist into her eye and turning toward the voices that disturbed her. She smiled a sleepy smile and reached out her tiny hands. "Momma," she managed around another yawn.

Melinda pulled the little girl into a hug, covering her with kisses as she burrowed into the embrace. "Momma," Skye breathed.

In an instant Melinda was surrounded by three squealing and bouncing children clamoring to be the first to steal the little one away from Melinda who had no intention of releasing her as she rocked side to side and kissed her over and over. She looked at the elderly woman still standing in the open doorway and asked one question. "How?"

"Oh, that yes well," the woman hedged. "I really do hate to impose but I thought maybe you might agree to baby sit for oh about thirty six hours?"

Phil motioned for the woman to step inside as he closed the door and allowed her to continue. "Baby sit, Sister you wouldn't be telling tales on Christmas Eve now would you?" He smiled.

"Telling tales?" she smiled as Trip took the small suitcase from her and pulled the twins away from the conversation. "Heavens no, I simply told the others I was taking Skye to visit family with me and I am in fact on my way to spend the evening with my cousin in Bethesda. He's expecting me for midnight Mass so I don't have a lot of time."

Melinda looked up as she pulled Skye's hand-me-down jacket from the little girl's arms. It was a look of panic.

"Oh no, dear, no," Sr. Claire assured her. "I'm not taking her that's why I need a baby sitter while I help my cousin with his Christmas duties. A small child certainly couldn't be expected to endure all of that and well I didn't really say whose family she'd be visiting." She smiled as Melinda extracted the child from her coat and boots then stood still hugging her tightly.

Skye rested her head on Melinda's shoulder and waggled her fingers at Phil. "Hi, daddy. I misted you." She spoke softly. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek telling her softly that he'd missed her as well.

Mary Claire brushed a stray hair from the little girl's eyes. "She fell asleep in the car. It's been a long day, she's a bit cranky I'm afraid." She smiled at the child who looked so natural in this woman's arms. This was a good match, a good fit and it would not be broken. "I know Jade is doing this out of spite because of…well because of Skye's last placement. How can anyone do that to a child, especially on Christmas? I swear the woman has a rock hard piece of coal for a heart. She's off to New York to spend the holidays with friends but I'll have to have Skye back to St. Agnes first thing Monday morning and I will do everything in my power to have her in your home before the new year." She leaned forward and kissed the little girl and then Melinda. "I promise."

"I don't know what to say," Melinda breathed.

"She hasn't had a bath and please promise you'll take her to Mass tomorrow. There's got to be a church around here somewhere. Or you can visit St. Benedict's. I'd love to see my little sweetheart all decked out in her Christmas finest."

"We will be there, Claire." Phil grasped the woman's hand and squeezed it.

"The latest Mass is at eleven," she remarked as she squeezed back then quickly kissed the little girl again. "Good night, my love. I will see you soon." She hugged Phil and then Melinda and called a Merry Christmas to the other children before she left.

Melinda stood for a moment staring at Phil who was speechless. "She's here, Phil," Melinda whispered a squeal as she threw her free arm around him. He hugged her back.

"I know she's tired Phil but I'm going to bathe her and get her out of these clothes." Melinda was away before he could answer.

He slapped his hands together and stepped toward the other children. "Okay, gang how about cookies and hot cocoa before I read a story and then it's off to bed before Old St. Nick comes down the chimney."

All three stood and headed for the kitchen to help. Fitz stopped and narrowed his eyes. "We haven't got a chimney or a fireplace." He pointed out.

"Not a problem, little man," Phil explained as he placed a hand on the boy's back. "He'll just come down the main one on the roof and end up in the basement then use the elevator to get to everyone's apartment before taking off for the next building."

Fitz frowned and opened his mouth to continue. Trip pulled him forward. "Just go with it, man, just go with it." He smiled at Phil as they pulled out a pan to make real honest to goodness Wisconsin hot cocoa.

Ten minutes later Melinda carried a freshly washed and changed Skye into the parlor. The little girl wriggled to the floor and joined the others kneeling at the coffee table. She held a small pink unicorn in one hand that she'd found on Jemma's nightstand.

"I ownee hoed it, kay Zemma? I non't keeps it, kay?"

Jemma nodded and opened her arms to hug the little girl. "Look, sweetheart, we have the same pajamas."

"Thems is mines for keepin'? I non't haffa puts em inna drou to get useded?" Skye asked pulling at the neck line of her PJ's.

"Nope, they are for you and only you." Trip explained as he pulled her into his lap.

"You gotz a eff on you seff, Frip." Skye giggled at the silly picture on Trip's T-shirt.

"Cuz he's a big elf!" Fitz bounced with laughter as he bit into his third cookie.

"Him no a eff, him a Frip," Skye tilted her head and looked into the older boy's face. "You silly Fizz." She watched him eat the star shaped cookie and looked to Melinda. "I haffa cookie, momma?"

Melinda let out a breath. She'd give this little one the world just at the sound of hearing her use that name. 'Momma'…Skye hadn't hesitated a moment. She called Melinda momma the second time she came to spend a weekend and never anything else. It melted her heart then and did the same now. "Yes, baobei, you may have any cookie you like."

Phil set a small cup of warm cocoa in front of her. "Here you go, angel eyes."

Skye looked at the two handled pink plastic mug. "I non't has a zippy cuff. You be mad to me if I make a mezz. You sen me to sagnes." She lowered her head and ended in little more than a whisper.

Phil scooped her up from the floor and kissed her twice. "Never, angel, never, never, ever. The only reason you are going back is to get all your things and then come back to stay forever no matter how many messes you make." He picked up the cup and helped her to take a small sip. Skye smacked her lips and opened her mouth for more which Phil happily obliged.

"Okay," he announced as he passed the baby to Melinda and picked up the book he'd placed on the table. "Last cookie, Fitz," he warned as he turned and sat down. "Santa doesn't want to visit homes where boys are up all night vomiting." Trip grabbed the plate of cookies and moved them out of reach as Jemma slapped Fitz's hand.

Skye's mouth dropped open. "Sanata comes at this hows?" She shook her head. "Him non't come at sagnes. Sisser says hims gotz too much howses a go to. We gotz a socking fromma ladies atta chorech."

Melinda pulled her close and kissed her head. "Well, tonight he will find you right here."

"Him give me a sut um jus foe me?" Skye pointed to her chest as she turned to face Melinda who raised her brows and nodded quickly.

"Maybe more than one."

"I let Zemma and Fizz has some, kay?" The little girl asked with wide eyes. "And Frip too."

"Yes, baobei, but first you have to go to sleep so put your head right here on Momma's heart and close your eyes." Melinda swallowed a sob as she spoke. Jemma and Fitz scrambled up onto the couch to sit on either side of the woman, both snuggling into her side perhaps unfettered by the action of the little girl she held.

Trip folded his hands behind his head and leaned back against the chair he'd been sitting near. He closed his eyes and listened to Phil's soft voice.

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…."

Xx

"Awww, that's so sweet," Skye sighed as she tipped her head back to look at Trip's chin. "Did I get to stay?"

Fitz rolled his eyes. Jemma let out a soft snort as she covered her mouth.

Trip laughed his usual laugh. "You're here aren't you?"

"No, no, I mean did I get to stay from then." Skye clarified bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Wellllll," Jemma started.

"Come on guys," Skye squealed as she looked from brother to sister and back. "I really don't remember any of this. Did that witch take me away? How'd you get me back? Did Dad pop her one? Did Mom?"

Trip wrapped his arms around her to stop her bouncing. "No, baby girl nothing like that, Sr. Mary Claire picked you up, kicking and screaming I may add…you not the nun…on Monday morning and delivered you back with that scrawny rabbit on Thursday. We decided to keep you both and had to put up with you ever since."

Skye let her head drop sideways on her brother's arm. "Don't call Salty scrawny. It hurts his feelings." She pouted.

"You still have that old thing?" Fitz laughed as the room lit up with the head lights of a car pulling into the driveway.

"They're home!" Jemma squeaked as she and Fitz stood.

Trip pushed Skye to her feet and got to his own. "Quick, the powder room," Skye giggled as she pushed her older brother and sister into the small room and pulled the door shut a moment before Phil and Melinda stomped through the back door carrying more bags than would hold a little last minute shopping. She hurried to help, reaching to take the sacks from her mother.

Melinda slapped her hands away. "No peeking, Skye, not even a little peek in any bag. Got it?" She warned.

"Okay-ay." Skye sneered as she smiled at Phil. She waited a few moments then took her parents' coats and hung them in the closet.

"You're awful helpful, this evening," Melinda mused as she filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove. "What kind of trouble are you in now? I swear Skye one call from one teacher and it won't matter that Christmas is only a few days away." She warned as she turned toward the girl who suddenly looked even more than guilty.

Trip shuffled into the room carrying the evening news under his arm. He kissed Melinda on the cheek as he passed and reached out a hand to meet Phil's, then passed him the paper. "Coffee?" He asked his father in a word. Phil nodded and sat down with the paper, pulling his glasses from his inside jacket pocket.

"Any idea what this one's up to?" He nodded toward Skye looking over the rim of his spectacles. She raised her brows and poked a finger at her chest. Trip turned to hide his smile.

"Ah, you know Skye, Da, she's always up to something." He pushed down the button on the Kuerig and watched as the dark liquid ran into the mug below.

Skye twirled a strand of hair around her finger and spun around then back. "Ya know there was a little, kinda something in the bathroom." Phil put down the paper and took off his glasses. "Not a real big one, just a kinda messy one and I cleaned it up almost.

"Oh Skye," Melinda huffed as she turned off the screaming tea kettle. "Why didn't you just tell us." She pulled open the pantry door and grabbed a mop then headed for the powder room with Phil right behind.

Skye hurried to catch up, motioning for Trip to follow. "Mom, mom, don't you'll ruin your good clothes. It's not that bad really just wait."

Melinda threw the girl a look before yanking open the door.

"Surprise!" Fitz and Jemma bellowed as they wrapped her in a double hug. The mop hit the floor with a bang.

Phil stood in shock before moving into the hug as Skye and Trip stood back and watched the reunion. "Told them there was a problem in the bathroom," Skye whispered to her brother. Everyone turned at the sound of the smack he landed for a second time that evening.

An hour later the family sat together, squeezed onto the large sofa that once held all six of them comfortably. Skye and Jemma snuggled close to their father while Melinda was sandwiched between her boys.

The lights twinkled in the darkness as the Coulson family reminisced once again on their best Christmas, each agreeing that the very first one might not have been the best but it would never be forgotten.

Fitz let out a soft snore and Trip lifted his head to glare at his already snoozing brother. "And I am not carrying him upstairs."