Grant didn't speak to Phil the rest of the week, beyond answering the direct questions Phil asked about his progress packing. Phil tried to remember that, if he were in their position, he would probably feel just as angry, but he really hoped Grant got over it soon.

Phil had met with May and Fury multiple times leading up to the weekend, when they would actually move. Fury had told he and May that their houses would be held for them, and they didn't have to move everything; the basic furniture of the house they would be staying in was still there, which made their lives a little easier. It was three hours away from where they lived now.

"We'll be back before you know it," Phil promised, as he, Grant, and Jemma stood in front of their house that Saturday morning.

Grant threw a duffel bag over his shoulder and walked to the truck. Jemma kept looking at the house until Phil touched her on the shoulder, and then she walked with him to the car. Phil pretended not to notice the tears in her eyes, because he knew she was trying her hardest to hide them from him. To be brave for him. It just made him feel worse about all this. They didn't talk much on the drive, as they followed the truck that had the furniture they'd decided to bring.

May and her kids beat them to the house, but not by much: Phil saw them pull into the driveway. Phil stepped out of the car to see May walking towards him.

"Hey honey," she said. It almost seemed ironic, but Phil remembered that from this point forward, they were officially undercover.

"You want to divide and conquer?" he asked. "Your side starts bringing stuff inside, mine unpacks the cars?"

She grabbed a box of stuff. "Come on, guys."

Phil watched May's kids follow May up to the house. She unlocked the double doors on the porch, throwing them open for the movers, and then disappeared inside. It was bigger than his, with two floors instead of one. From the diagrams Fury had shown him, the inside seemed spacious and neat. There were five bedrooms upstairs. The downstairs had an open floor kitchen/living room, which connected to a study and dining room, and one full bathroom and a half one in the entryway. It wasn't a layout Phil would have picked, but it was supposed to fit everyone. He definitely liked the outside, with its yellow paneling and white borders. Fury had convinced the owners to move, so it was right next to their targets. That was the most important thing. Phil turned to his car and started pulling out boxes and bags, bringing them to the porch and setting them there.

Grant was sticking to their car, so Phil started moving things from May's. He'd only been in her personal car once or twice, so the neatness still surprised him. He only managed to clean his car once a month or so. Jemma was shadowing him, sticking close. "How're you doing?" he asked her.

"I'm fine. Just anxious to see the inside."

Phil straightened from the trunk and saw Skye walking out with a quick stride. She seemed mad, and Phil saw May in the doorway. "Can you get these last few bags? Then we can start moving things into the rooms." He walked up to the porch. "How's it look?" he asked May.

"It's in good shape. But there is a potential problem…" Skye walked by with a bag of sheets and blankets.

She was definitely mad.

"What happened?"

"The diagrams Fury showed us are old, probably the first draft for the house. The upstairs has four bedrooms, one bathroom. Not five bedrooms."

Phil stopped in the doorway. "Someone else has to share a room." Fitz and Trip had volunteered to share already. There was only one other possibility, and Phil looked back at Jemma, and then in the direction Skye had gone. "It has to be the girls." No wonder Skye was mad. They'd been promised their own rooms, as some consolation for moving so suddenly.

Grant walked up, dropping a sack at Phil's feet. Jemma stood behind him. "Everything's out of the cars," Grant said.

"Fitz, Trip, what's taking so long?" May called into the house. She picked up more stuff and walked it in.

"Thanks, you two. Let's go see your rooms." Phil started walking in. "There's something you should know, though…"

Jemma seemed to take it fine. Grant had his own room, so he had nothing to complain about (nothing new, anyway).

It took them a little over an hour to get the furniture and boxes moved to the appropriate rooms (favorite armchairs, end tables, a loveseat to add to the living room). The movers left. At that point, the only unpacking they had left to do was in individual bedrooms.

He and May would share the master bedroom, of course, which Phil was kind of nervous about. Phil kept pacing outside the rooms upstairs, listening for signs of trouble or distress from any of the kids. May motioned for him to come into the master bedroom after twenty minutes of his pacing, and shut the door behind him.

"You're hovering," she said.

He turned to look at her. She stayed in front of the door, as if she thought he would run back out. "How can I not? Did you notice how quiet it is, May? We have five teenagers in this house, and I don't hear one of them."

"They're unpacking. Like we should be." She walked over to him. "If you're worried about it being quiet, just wait. We're gonna get an earful once their spaces are settled."

"Mom!"

May closed her eyes. "Which looks like it's now."

"Mom!"

"I think that's for you," Phil said.

They walked into the hallway to see May's boys standing outside their room. "What is it?" May asked.

"Our stuff doesn't fit."

Phil peered into the room. The two twin beds were on opposite sides of the room. Between the beds, two desks, and boxes of books, there wasn't much space for walking.

"It does look a bit tight, but it should be better once those boxes are unpacked," Phil said.

Trip looked at him for a second. "There's nowhere to put them."

"Let me help," May said, moving into the room.

Phil hovered for a minute and then went back to pacing (this time in his room, with the door open). When May came back in, Phil couldn't wait any longer. "I have to know they're okay," he said, and walked down the hallway, knocking on all the doors.

One by one the teenagers appeared, some sticking just their heads out the doors, some stepping fully outside. One face was missing, actually.

"Where's Skye?" May asked.

"She went downstairs," Jemma said.

"I think it's time we get to know each other a little bit, and talk about this situation," Phil said. "Can everyone come downstairs to the living room? Thanks."


Skye was in the living room, leaning over her cell phone with earbuds in when they got downstairs. She took out the earbuds but kept her phone in her lap as everyone took a seat.

The living room was arranged in a kind of circle, but May's kids still managed to stay on an opposite side from Phil's. May sat on the edge of the chair next to Phil's and leaned forward. "No one's gonna bite," she told them. "Right now you definitely don't pass for siblings."

"We only have to act like that when other people are around," Skye said.

"But if you don't practice it in private, you'll forget in public." May looked at Skye first, since she seemed to be the most vocal. "Do you know everyone's names?"

Skye raised an eyebrow, conveying an almost impressive amount of sass with the small gesture. If it wasn't directed at her, May would have been proud. "Jenna and Grant," Skye said lazily, gesturing at Phil's kids.

"Jemma," Jemma corrected gently.

"Whatever."

May looked at Grant. "Do you know their names?"

Grant just stared at her. "Skye, Trip, and Fitz," Jemma said, after a quick glance at him. She looked at them. "That's what you like to be called anyway, isn't that right?"

"You got it right, girl," Trip said with an easygoing smile. "My real name's Antoine, but that's just cause my grandad insisted. Trip fits me better."

"'Specially since you're so clumsy," Fitz said quietly, with a slight upturn of his lips.

May looked at the ring on her finger. It had been a few days, and it still felt strange to wear a ring after so many years without one. "The only thing you don't have to do all the time is call us Mom and Dad. I don't want to force that on you."

"I know this is weird," Phil said, "and you probably think it's unfair. But Director Fury wouldn't have chosen us for this assignment if he didn't think we could do it – not just May and I. All of us."

May looked at the kids' reactions, and was happily surprised that most of them seemed contented by Phil's words. She hadn't seen an expression on Grant's face other than anger yet, and Skye rolled her eyes. They were the oldest, so she understood that they might have the most lastingly negative impression.

"We want to try to make this a little easier," Phil continued, looking at May as if to say 'go along with me.' "You guys pick a place for dinner."

"We don't know any places here," Fitz pointed out.

"Then we'll find a good one," May said. She liked this plan. "Get things settled in your rooms, and then we'll go out. Sound like a plan?"

The kids nodded, and May watched them move back towards the stairs like a little army. She waited until the sound of their footsteps on the stairs had stopped before casting Phil a satisfied look. "That's the first hurdle down."

"Now it's time for the marathon," he agreed.

May thought things seemed to be going pretty well, actually.

She had no idea.