Merry Christmas
Jemma would call her a Grinch good-naturedly later, but to be fair, Christmas shopping on the eighteenth of December was just painful. What with all the flashing lights pointing at things they don't need and bold signs telling them that these reindeer themed frying pans are seventy-five percent off and holy cow all the kids… Just too much. So overwhelming. Skye wanted to sit down, breathe into a paper bag and roll her eyes a few times.
But then – duh – Jemma would make some adorable face or say something stupidly cute about how tinsel looks with those little rainbow lights flashing off it and Skye would cave. There was a part of her (the part she generally projected outwards for all to see) that didn't want to be in this shopping centre. She didn't want to celebrate a holiday that had always been such a disappointment. She didn't want the fuss or the stress or any of it.
But she did want Jemma.
So instead of complaining about it, she let herself be dragged around, mostly happy to watch Jemma collect things they 'needed' for the holiday they hadn't realised they'd be having. Between Jemma's hours at the hospital and Skye's complete brainlapse that Christmas is a thing that happens, their apartment hadn't been decorated. Not until some schmuck from the paediatric ward of the hospital said something and Jemma had come home in a frenzy. Then they realised that the extent of their decorations was pretty much what Fitz had shoved in their top cupboards the year before. So like… a few emaciated strings of tinsel and a bauble that was meant to be gold, but all the paint had flaked off.
Really spirited stuff, to be sure.
So now they had to get a tree to put all the presents under and deck the rest of the apartment in things Skye neither understood the significance of (um… why a wreath of cherry stems?) nor had ever actually experienced before. Which Jemma deemed a blasphemy and had solidified their trip to the shopping mall.
In her innocence, Skye had assumed that since Christmas was just, you know, like a week away, that no one would be in the stores. Oh how wrong she was. Naïve Skye had been incredibly daunted and horrified by the sheer number of people. At first she'd stuck to Jemma's side like those irritating glue strips on the inside of a gift card. Now she just pushed the trolley, resigned to the fact that they were both rather small people and getting separated was a given.
As it was, standing on her tip-toes to peer over an annoyingly loud aisle full of singing Santa baubles, Skye still couldn't find her girlfriend. Which sucked. Her head ached and her stomach grumbled and her girlfriend was AWOL. Not how she'd imagine decoration shopping should go. At all.
She hipped the trolley into motion down the aisle, hoping to at least escape from the clamouring of the jolly fat men and rounded the end into a much quieter lane. This one the shiny of tinsel and the soft lights of fake candles. Also, this aisle was devoid all the people. Plus one in her book.
At least it was until something small and clingy wrapped around her left leg. Then she stopped, stock still; eyes going wide as she looked down to see what had impeded her progress. Ah, a small human. Probably lost, obviously distressed, no doubt about to cry. Great.
Skye knelt, the fingers bunched in the denim of her jeans loosening their hold only to latch onto her shirt. Huh.
"Hey," Skye muttered carefully, not sure what to do exactly. "Where's your mum?"
The little girl's face went all round and wet and her bottom lip trembled pitifully. But it answered her question. So there was that.
"Ah, okay. What's your name?"
"Cindy," the girl whispered shyly.
"Hey, Cindy," Skye replied, trying to get her to stop looking like she was going to have a meltdown. Where was Jemma she needed her? "My name's Skye."
The girl thrust a finger at the roof. "Like up there?"
"Yep. Just like that." She didn't bother to point out the spelling differences. Cindy was probably too young. Speaking of, "How old are you, Cindy?"
She stuffed two fingers in her mouth. But the other hand held up three chubby little baby fingers.
"Wow, three huh?" Skye gasped. "Wow, you're really old."
Cindy smiled and shook her head.
"Yeah, you totally are. Three's practically grown up." She paused, looking over Cindy's head. She'd swear she wasn't secretly hoping that Jemma would materialise to save her. (But she totally was.) "Do you wanna go find your mum, then? I'm sure she's looking for you."
She bobbed her head hurriedly.
"Yeah, alright then. Do you want a lift?" Still with that massive grin, Cindy clenched her fingers into Skye's collar, ending balanced on her hip as she straightened. "For a small person you sure are heavy. It's 'cause you're so old."
Cindy laughed at her and Skye counted that as a win. Manoeuvring the trolley one-handed turned out to be a rather arduous task. Skye probably should've expected as much, so she gave up. Leaving the trolley (with all its stuff in it) parked in the aisle; Skye wrapped both arms around Cindy and turned.
Then she jumped out of her skin. It was a good thing Cindy had such a tight grip or finding Jemma standing at the end of the aisle like that with a quiet little smile on her face would've sent the kid tumbling to the floor.
"Holy cow, Jem," she murmured harshly. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Who's your Klingon?" Jemma asked, laughing as she stepped over.
The girl shifted in Skye's arms so she could see Jemma. "Cindy," she muttered, popping her fingers back in her mouth.
"Hello," she said, still beaming. "I'm Jemma."
"Hullo."
"Are we going to find your mother?"
Cindy nodded against Skye's shoulder.
"Wonderful." Then Cindy tucked her face back into Skye's shoulder, retreating into her bubbled of shyness. So Jemma bumped Skye's elbow. "You're adorable," she whispered. "Who knew you were good with kids?"
"Freaking hell," Skye sighed.
"Don't swear in front of little ears."
Grumbling, Skye turned out into the main walkway of the store. So many people would not make this easy. Goddamn.
"Where do we even start?"
"Trees," Cindy mumbled, pointing the hand not in her mouth at the section with fake Christmas trees.
Jemma peered at her. "Was your mum at the trees, sweetheart?" she asked gently.
Cindy moved and from the look she got from Jemma, Skye figured that was an affirmative. So she wandered in that direction. To be fair, the trees were quite large and obstructed her view so this probably wasn't the best place to look for the woman.
Skye jiggled the little girl. "Can you look this way for me? I need you to tell me if you see her."
Cindy turned until she was looking the same direction as Skye. Keeping her in place was trickier this way, but would be more effective in the end. Hopefully anyway. A small child was definitely not something Skye'd been planning on taking home with her today.
"Be nice to know what we're looking for," Skye whispered to Jemma. She got a feather-light touch to her shoulder and nothing else.
They kept looking. Through the trees, and the woven deer (be they steel or wicker), past the teetering piles of boxed blow-up Santas. They wound through a section for cooking with little cookie cutters shaped like trees and mitts in awful colour combinations. Through the store they went. And it wasn't until they made it to the area with all the lights that they had a breakthrough.
"Cindy?"
Jemma's hand clamped down on Skye's elbow and she froze. The little girl had long since drifted off to sleep (which Skye figured was props for her), but when they stopped so abruptly, she made an unhappy gurgle and lifted her head. Slowly, Skye stepped in the direction she believed the voice to have come from.
The second time, "Cindy!" was called; the tone was decidedly more strained. Verging on panicked even. So Skye moved a little bit faster. Cindy's grip on her collar tightened with every step.
Eventually, they found a frazzled woman with equally frizzled hair wringing her hands beneath a tree displaying multi-coloured lights. Cindy squirmed in Skye's arms and she figured this was her mother then. Good thing too, her left arm had fallen asleep below the elbow. She let the suddenly energetic little girl wiggle free and Cindy bounded – shrieking – over to her mother.
The woman spun so fast she nearly bumped into the tree and sent it tumbling. Then her arms were full of her daughter and she was just about crying. Skye couldn't help but smile.
Jemma's hand found hers then, their fingers winding together and Skye let her girlfriend pull her away. They didn't get far though because Cindy apparently wasn't done with them.
"Skye!" the girl exclaimed, latching onto her pant leg again. "Skye. Thank you." Her enthusiasm trailed off near the end; shyness breaking through.
"Really." She looked up at the voice to find Cindy's mum smiling at her. "Thank you both."
"No worries," Skye laughed. "I'm not ready for kids yet anyway."
Cindy's mum looked a little worried by that, but she just thanked them again and took Cindy's hand to lead her away. She muttered something about running off to the girl but Skye didn't pay them any more mind. Not with Jemma right there smiling at her.
"What?" she huffed.
"You're so sweet with kids," Jemma practically cooed.
Skye stuck out her bottom lip. "I am not. I just didn't want her hanging around."
"Because you're not ready for kids?" she teased.
"Exactly. We've only been dating like a year. Kids come way after that."
She counted that comment a success when Jemma's face went bright red. "Oh my god," she breathed. "Let's start with a cat, okay?"
Skye eyed her carefully. "Just so long as you don't try to name it after a chemical compound. Sure."
Jemma laughed again and pulled her in by her hand to kiss her by the tree. Surrounded by twinkling Christmas lights. "Deal."