So, I haven't written anything substantial in a few months now, but I wrote this for Bea as her present for the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa Exchange.
Let's consider this an AU, because it's a happy story and I'm basically ignoring everything that's happened in season 2 so far (which is something I do on a daily basis). Also, there's a small reference at the end to last year's holiday fic, All In Good Time. You don't have to read it, however, to understand this story.
Dedicated to Bea. Special thanks to Lissi for being a hella great beta.
we built this piece of paradise (you and i)
It's a quiet December morning; the fireplace is still unlit, the lights on the Christmas tree twinkle faintly, overpowered by the glow of the bright white snow covering nearly every surface outside. Christmas morning is beautifully peaceful.
For now.
Two pairs of small feet in brightly-colored socks pad through the wooden floors as they rush to the master bedroom, doing their best to be discreet. The girl, a five year-old with caramel-colored hair and clear blue eyes, holds a finger up to her lips to warn her younger brother, a three year-old with sandy blonde curls and freckles, to keep quiet at all costs. When he nods in understanding, she reaches up for the doorknob and turns it.
The door opens with a creak and they pause for a moment to peek through the thin opening to make sure that their victims are still asleep. Sure enough, their parents remain completely unfazed, unmoving on the bed. The little girl suspects that her father's snoring must be capable of drowning out any sound she and her brother try to make.
On their tiptoes, the children approach the bed slowly. In a mess of wrinkled sheets and scattered pillows lay their parents, sound asleep. Their mother lies peacefully on her side, clutching a pillow in her arms but huddled close to her husband. Their father is lying on his stomach, his arm draped lazily around their mother's waist, his face turned to her, his mouth wide open and snoring.
Maybe on another day, seeing their parents so deep in sleep, they would tiptoe away and quietly close the door behind them. Maybe on another day, they would flutter back to their bedrooms and wait until they hear the sound of a pan frying pancakes downstairs. But this is not one of those days.
This is Christmas morning.
And there are presents from Santa Claus waiting to be opened under the tree.
The two children move to take their stances on opposite sides of the bed, the boy by his mother's and the girl by her father's. The little girl nods over to her brother, who nods back with a cheeky grin. One, she mouths, and they crouch their legs. Two. They lift their arms up. Three. They pounce.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" they yell, their short legs propelling them onto the bed and landing them right on top of their parents.
Their mother startles into wakefulness as the little boy tackles her into a hug. She rubs her face on the pillow as her son tugs vigorously on her pajama top. "Wake up mummy, it's Christmas!"
"Santa Claus came! Santa Claus left presents under the tree!" The little girl continues. She's sitting on her father's back, straddling his waist and ruffling clumps of her father's hair in an attempt to wake him up. The rude awakening has managed to put the snoring to an abrupt halt, but he has yet to open his eyes.
"Come on, daddy! Let's open presents!" All she gets in response is a muffled groan as her father turns to bury his face into his pillow.
His wife, eternally the morning person, has already recovered from the ambush and sits up to gather her little boy in her arms.
She plants a kiss on the top of his head and then holds out an arm to her daughter. The little girl looks from her mother then back down to her father, conflicted.
"Ellie sweetheart, daddy can't get up if you're sitting on top of him, now can he?"
The little girl seems to accept this logic, and she moves off her father and scrambles over to wrap her arms around her mother's neck.
"You and Leo go on downstairs," she says once Ellie lets go. "We'll be down in five minutes, I promise."
Ellie nods and takes her brother Leo by the hand, dragging him out of the room.
When the door closes, a muffled voice from a pillow asks, "Are they gone?"
"Yes, but they'll be back."
"You go," he says, his face still buried in his pillow. "Santa needs his sleep."
"Fitz, you know they'll just come back to get you if I go down alone."
"I'm willing to take that chance."
"Fitz."
He lifts his head at the tone of her voice and rolls over onto his back, conceding. "Fine," he mutters. "But first..."
Fitz tugs her down from her sitting position and pulls her into his arms. He kisses her languidly before planting smaller kisses on her nose and cheeks and forehead. "Merry Christmas, Jem."
Jemma smiles tenderly and plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Merry Christmas."
They descend the stairs to find Ellie and Leo already holding their respective presents under the tree.
"Let's open! Let's open!" Leo says, swinging the large box in his arms.
"Hold on first," Jemma says. "Let me get a picture."
Ellie and Leo immediately hold up the brightly-colored presents next to the wide grins on their faces. When they hear the snap signaling a photo taken, they waste no time in tearing through the wrapping paper.
Jemma moves to take her seat next to Fitz in the couch closest to the tree. They watch as their children excitedly unbox the presents they'd painstakingly spent all their extra hours poring over in the lab.
"A plane!" Ellie squeals with joy, pulling out a toy airplane from the box. "It's just like the one Auntie May flies!"
Fitz grins and gets up from the couch to sit on the floor next to his daughter. "Can I have a look at it, Monkey?"
Ellie nods and hands it over to him. Fitz pretends to assess the toy carefully, adding in a few "hmms" and a pensive expression for effect. In truth, he'd spent the last two weeks crafting the toy plane-an exact replica of the Bus-and knows it inside-out. But of course, Ellie thinks it's from Santa. He pretends to accidentally find a switch under the mini-Bus' tail, and flicks it on.
The plane's propellers immediately begin to spin, and in a few seconds the plane lifts away from his hand. Beside him, Ellie gasps in delight.
"Look in the box and see if this thing has a remote," Fitz tells her. She rummages through the tissue paper and foam that had cushioned the toy before finding a small remote control and handing it to her father.
Fitz flicks the remote on and uses it to control the plane. He steers it around the room, has it circle around Ellie, who is giggling uncontrollably. "Let me try, daddy," she says once Fitz lands the plane onto the carpet next to her.
He hands her the remote and briefly explains each control to her. When he finishes, Ellie sets the plane for take-off again and zooms it straight into the Christmas tree. "Oops."
"You'll get the hang of it, Monkey," Fitz chuckles, ruffling the hair on the top of his daughter's head.
Meanwhile, Leo happily unboxes a small musical keyboard. He'd early on showed an inclination to music, the same way that Ellie seemed perpetually fascinated with her Aunt May's stories about flying. When his happiness quickly turns into confusion, Jemma takes her turn to leave the couch and helps him locate the on switch of the keyboard.
Soon enough, her little Lion is fiddling with the instrument, trying out each key before attempting to play a few at once. It's by no means a real tune, but unlike most children who enthusiastically hit every key their hand can land on, Leo chooses his notes carefully, experimenting with the sounds with the same concentration his father has when he's building a new weapon. He even has the same expression: eyebrows drawn together, tongue sticking out just the slightest. Jemma thinks it's the most endearing sight.
They leave the two, who are so engrossed in their new gifts, to prepare breakfast together in the kitchen: blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes, a Christmas tradition. After the meal, Ellie and Leo insist that they all go sledding.
Outside, the whole neighborhood is covered in a thick blanket of snow, on top of cars and plants, and all through the street. The cold it brings bites at their cheeks, and Jemma instinctively reaches over to tighten Ellie and Leo's scarves. They take the trek up the hill a few blocks from their home, Fitz dragging two red, wooden sleds (a gift from Trip and Skye two years ago) along behind them.
When they reach the top, Jemma takes Ellie's hand and grabs one sled from Fitz. "Can't Leo ride with me?" Ellie asks. "I'm big now; I can take good care of him."
"We'll see next year," Jemma tells her, offering her a smile. Ellie nods obediently and takes her place on the sled in front of her mother. Jemma pushes them off the hill and as soon as they take off, both girls start laughing at the top of their lungs. They arrive at the bottom of the hill, their cheeks hot with adrenaline despite the cold.
Hand in hand, they make their way back up the hill, keeping an eye out for Fitz and Leo, laughing along with them as they zoom past.
They take a few more turns, before Ellie randomly decides to throw a snowball at her father and initiate an all-out snowball war. It's boys against girls on the top of the hill; Jemma and Ellie are quick, firing one snowball at Fitz or Leo after another. But Fitz is more precise, which he has to be since Leo has only recently learned how to make a snowball (thanks to his big sister) and has the aim of, well, a three year-old.
There's not much to hide behind, save for a tree, so the four of them attempt to avoid each other simply by running as far away from the opposing side as possible. But somehow Fitz manages to sneak up and tackle Jemma from behind. They land on the snow together. Jemma lets out a scream at the shock of coming into such close contact with the ice, and flails around in Fitz's arms in an attempt to face him and scold him for pulling a stunt like that when it's so bloody cold.
But he's wearing that cheeky grin that she can't resist, and his eyes look even bluer from the rush of battle. It's as if he doesn't even notice that they're lying on a bed of snow. "Surrender yet?"
Before Jemma can answer, someone else shouts, "Never!"
They look up and find Ellie bounding towards them with such purpose—her purpose being to jump right on top of her father.
Fitz grunts at the force of impact. Upon seeing her father momentarily stunned, Ellie turns to Jemma, "Run, mum! Escape while you can!"
Laughing, Jemma complies and gets up to run as far away from Fitz as she can, while he's left to face their very persistent daughter alone. When she feels like she's far enough, Jemma turns back to find Ellie still sitting on Fitz's torso, and holding up a large snowball over his head.
"I could use some help from a lion right now," he calls. But from the corner of his eye, he can see that Jemma's lifted Leo up into her arms and is swaying him off the ground.
"Surrender yet?" Jemma calls. He can't fully see it but Fitz knows that there's a smug smirk on her face.
He looks back at the giant snowball Ellie has looming over his head. "Alright, alright! I surrender!"
"Woooh!" Ellie shouts, dropping the snowball onto the ground in favor of pumping her fists into the air. Fitz takes this opportunity to seize her by the waist. Ellie screams, and in one swoop Fitz is on his feet and has her draped over his shoulder. Fatherhood seems to have made him more agile.
"Daddy!" Ellie squeals. "Put me down!"
She's laughing as he sets her feet back on the ground, and now Leo is running toward him demanding a turn.
Jemma watches as Fitz catches their son in his arms and playfully tosses him into the air and catches him again. She can't help but wish she had brought the camera with her. She wishes she could capture every moment of their family and frame them, cheesy as it sounds.
Their life now is such a far cry from what it was seven years ago.
After another twenty minutes or so of snow angels, Jemma declares that it's time to head back for late lunch. When they arrive at the house, however, they're all greeted with a surprise standing by their fireplace.
"Auntie Skye!" Ellie and Leo exclaim in unison. The two of them immediately run into her open arms.
"How are my favorite godkids?" Skye greets happily, ruffling the tops of their heads.
"I'm your only godchild," Ellie corrects her.
Skye makes a face. "You always have to be accurate, don't you?" And then she smiles. "Just like your parents."
"It's a scientist thing," Jemma says, coming closer to envelope Skye in a hug with Fitz following suit.
"Merry Christmas," Jemma says. "Are you hungry? We were just about to eat."
Skye grins. "Definitely."
Since Ellie was born and Jemma had named her as godmother, Skye has spent every Christmas with the Fitzsimmons family. Every so often, when they're not busy, Trip or May or Coulson joins them. The year Leo was born; they'd all been complete for Christmas Eve. Even danger seemed to like taking a break during the holidays.
"Will you be staying til New Year, Auntie Skye?" Ellie asks as they make their way to the kitchen.
Skye gives her an apologetic smile. "Sorry kiddo, I can't this year."
The five year-old looks plainly disappointed upon hearing this. "Ellie," Jemma says, "go and help your brother change out of his snow clothes."
When the little girl leaves, Fitz enters and heads over to the pantry to grab ingredients for his special hot chocolate. "Hey Fitzy," Skye greets. "Remind me again why Jemma still calls you by your last name, despite the fact that you're, y'know, married."
"Technically, my last name is Fitzsimmons," Fitz answers back, glancing over at Jemma with a smile, before turning back to Skye. "And I hate the name Leopold."
"Which is why Leo's name is just Leo. Not Leopold or Leonard or whatever other name requires Leo as a nickname," Jemma finishes for him.
"But Leo could've been a Leonardo. Like the actor—or the ninja turtle."
Fitz rolls his eyes. "So you've said before."
Skye laughs, getting up from her seat on the counter to help him mix the Nutella into the chocolate.
"So how are things?" Jemma asks, changing the subject.
"Same-old, same-old. The crazy never stops. It's not as fun without you guys, though."
Jemma's smile is almost sad. When she first found out she was pregnant with Ellie, she knew that it meant the end of going on missions in the field. By the end of her second trimester, she and Fitz had left the Bus and had settled in a SHIELD lab close to home. They now mostly served as consultants to field agents, and headed the SHIELD's UK science division. She didn't regret her decision to leave the field, but she did miss it, and even though he'd never admit it, she knew Fitz missed field work too.
Skye knows this. But she also knows that ever since they started their family, she's never seen them happier.
After lunch, Skye brings Ellie and Leo into the living room and hands them the presents she'd brought for them.
Leo opens his gift first and finds what looks like an ordinary pair of glasses. He looks up at his aunt in question.
"They're x-ray glasses," Skye explains. She crouches down to set the glasses on his nose and presses a button behind the frame. "Your dad and I worked on a pair much like these when we first started working together."
"They're not actually x-ray gla-"
"To a toddler, they're x-ray glasses." Skye interrupts, giving Fitz a pointed look. Fitz rolls his eyes in reply.
"What are these?" Ellie asks, holding up what looks like two ordinary pens. Fitz, however, recognizes them immediately. He practically dives to the floor to snatch the pens from his daughter's hand.
He turns around to glare at Skye, holding the two pens up. "Care to explain why you're giving my five year-old daughter laser pens? Real bloody laser pens?!"
He's being remarkably calm about this, considering that last year he'd launched into a five minute long rant about child safety when Skye had tried to give Ellie a mini-ICEr. Sometimes Fitz thinks that Skye gives Ellie the dangerous gifts on purpose, just to set him off.
In reply, she just shrugs. "I figured you could just install a safety switch in them."
Fitz's eyes bulge, his jaw drops and he immediately closes it again. Skye would probably laugh at his reaction if she didn't know that he was genuinely annoyed with her answer.
Meanwhile, Fitz seems oblivious to the fact that Ellie has perked up upon hearing the word lasers.
Jemma steps in. "Ellie, you're going to have to wait for your dad to put in a safety switch before you can use the lasers, alright? Now, why don't you go take Leo and your Aunt Skye outside to build a snowman?"
Everyone, including Ellie, seems to accept this compromise. The little girl nods at her mother and takes her godmother's hand to lead her to where they keep the coats for outside, Leo trailing after them.
When they're finally alone, Jemma takes the lasers from Fitz's grip and sets them on the coffee table. She stands in front of Fitz and loops her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers in the curls resting on the nape of his neck. Instinctively, Fitz winds his own arms around Jemma's waist and pulls her closer.
"Skye's crazy," he sighs, leaning his forehead against her own. Jemma just chuckles.
"She's their aunt. She's supposed to give the odd gifts that we won't."
"I thought that was what Santa was for."
Jemma smiles. "Him too."
Fitz pulls Jemma closer so that she's pressed up against him and runs his hand up and down her back. "You want some tea?"
"Mhm," Jemma hums. Fitz kisses the tip of her nose and releases her waist in order to lace their fingers together and pull her with him to the kitchen.
Jemma sits down on the counter and watches him as he turns the kettle on and rummages through the cupboard for her favorite tea.
She observes Fitz as he moves fluidly, almost gracefully, around their kitchen. She's seen him at many stages of his life: as a lanky, awkward teenager, as a fresh-faced young man, as a young man facing danger and growing into his own. But this Fitz, this Fitz who is a loving husband and a doting father, this is her favorite Fitz so far.
His hair is cut short now, though not too short that she can still run her fingers through his curls. His arms are toned. There's stubble on his face that she finds attractive, though she doesn't always like the way it scratches her skin when they kiss. He still looks young, much like he did when they were in their twenties, the only indicator of his real age being the crinkles in his eyes and the laugh lines around his mouth.
This is her favorite Fitz. But then, every version of Fitz has, at some point, been her favorite Fitz.
He hands her the ready cup of tea and takes his own, and they move to sit on the side of the kitchen counter that has a view of the yard outside. They watch as Ellie piles up as much snow to roll into a ball as her body can muster, and Skye helps Leo search for the perfect stones to use as buttons and eyes.
"You know, sometimes I still can't believe it," Fitz whispers.
Jemma turns to look at him. "Believe what?" she asks, though she thinks she might know.
"This," Fitz says, staring straight ahead and gesturing to nothing in particular. "Ellie and Leo," he adds. And then he turns to look at her. "You."
And it's true. Even after two children and seven years of marriage, Fitz sometimes still wakes up in the morning having to remind himself that yes, he's not dreaming. He's not imagining his beautiful daughter and wonderful son that he would do anything for. He's not just imagining Jemma, his best friend and the love of his life, sleeping next to him in bed, there because she loves him, loves him the way he loves her. His life is so much more than he's ever hoped for.
Sometimes it all seems too good to be true.
But Jemma is here. She's here and she's giving him that tender smile that lights up her eyes; that smile that made his heart stutter years before he even understood the effect she had on him. It's the signature Jemma Simmons (now Fitzsimmons) smile that hides nothing, that projects every ounce of joy and love that she feels in that moment. Fitz is almost overwhelmed as he fully registers that that smile is for him.
He doesn't notice that she's set her tea on the counter; he's so lost in her smile that he barely registers the hand that reaches up to the back of his head, only vaguely feels her pull him down to connect her mouth with his. But he responds immediately. Just like he knows her every habit, can anticipate her every move in the lab, can hear her sentences before she speaks them, his body is so attuned to hers that his lips know how to move against hers without having to think about it.
Jemma brushes her tongue against his lower lip, and he hooks his finger under her chin to tilt it up as he grants her access. It's tender and slow, it's a kiss of familiarity and contentment. Fitz shifts in his seat so that he's facing her, and slides his free arm around her waist and runs his hand up and down her lower back. She tries to move as close as the chair will allow, tucking her legs between his, and letting the hand that's not in his hair rest on the his face, running her thumb over the stubble on his cheek.
When they finally part for air, Fitz peppers a few more kisses, much like he did this morning. One on her nose, on either side of her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead. He lets the tip of his nose graze down the side of her face as he plants another kiss below her ear, and more below her jaw.
"Love you," he whispers against the corner of her mouth. He can feel her lips curve.
Jemma takes his face between her hands and plants a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "Love you too."
They stay like that for a few moments, drinking each other in and letting their tea run cold. Soon enough, their moment is interrupted in the best possible way as they hear the door open, and the sound of Ellie's chatter comes closer as she tries to explain to Skye and Leo why her system of making a snowman is the best.
When they enter the kitchen, Skye gives them what seems like a knowing smile, and it makes Jemma blush. Fitz recovers quicker, looking from Ellie to Leo and giving them a grin. "You know, your mum and I haven't given you your presents yet."
Ellie and Leo's heads snap up in unison. "Let's open them now!"
The two siblings race to the living room with Skye following after them, laughing. Fitz wraps his arm around Jemma's shoulders while Jemma slides hers around his waist before following behind.
Later that night, after dinner, after they tuck Ellie in with Henry, her purple monkey, and Leo with his nameless lion, after Skye calls it a night and heads to the guest room, Fitz leads Jemma back to the couch by the Christmas tree. She sits on his lap and they take a few moments to just sit together, to enjoy the peace and quiet in the house and come down from the high of Christmas spirit that is so infectious when it comes from their children.
"I haven't given you your gift yet," Fitz whispers once they're completely relaxed.
"I thought we agreed, no presents." Jemma says, raising her eyebrow at him curiously.
Fitz chuckles. "I know. This isn't technically a gift so much as an adjustment to one that I gave you before."
He pulls something out of his pocket and places it in Jemma's hand. She looks down at her palm to find the necklace he's given her many Christmases ago. It had been his mother's necklace, and he had modified the pendant and turned it into a tiny holographic projector.
She turns it on now, and finds the same three pictures that he'd installed when he first gave it to her: the picture of the team on the Bus, with her family, and with the two of them. She clicks on the button one more time, supposedly to turn it off, but it doesn't yet. There are new pictures. There's one of them on their first date in Italy, and one of their wedding day. There are pictures of Jemma holding Ellie and Leo for the first time, and the last picture is one of their family.
When she clicks the pendant off, Jemma immediately pulls Fitz into a deep kiss.
"Thank you," she breathes when they finally pull away, foreheads still touching. "For all of it. And I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything this year."
Fitz brushes her apology off with a smile and a shrug. Cheesy as it sounds, he already has everything he could possibly want. He brushes the tip of his nose against hers and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Merry Christmas, Jem."
"Merry Christmas, Fitz."
Sigh. I suck at endings.
Let me know what you think. Good or bad, feedback is always appreciated.