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010

Mistletoe

. . .

"Jemma…"

"Hmm?" She turned away from the interactive hologram to find Fitz blinking up at the ceiling.

"Is that…?"

Jemma followed his gaze. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the rafters, a conspicuous splash of colour against grey.

"Not mine," she said with certainty.

There was a brief pause before they looked at each other.

"Skye," was the simultaneous and conclusive answer.

"How about we indulge in a little pay-back?" suggested Fitz, grinning.

Jemma nodded thoughtfully. "Stick it above that one particular table she and Ward play Battleship on. But first…" She planted a kiss on Fitz' cheek. "Merry Christmas."

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011

Imposter

. . .

"This isn't you," says Fitz tremulously as Jemma straddles his lap, the skirt she's wearing riding higher up her milky thighs. He swallows and averts his eyes to the ceiling.

"Of course it is, silly," Jemma purrs. She teases a curl that's strayed onto his forehead, twirling it around an index finger. "A better version of me."

He latches onto her wrist hard enough that he's sure it hurts. She doesn't flinch. "I want the old Jemma back," he practically growls. "Now."

The imposter smiles, a sinister echo of Jemma's. She leans forward, whispers in his ear: "Not just yet."

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012

The Date

(Set during FitzSimmons' Academy years.)

. . .

"I don't know what you see in him," called Fitz. He was sprawled across the width of Jemma's bed, staring sulkily at the ceiling.

"He's nice," came Jemma's breezy response from the bathroom. A moment later she opened the door fully and stepped through. "What do you think?"

Fitz did a double take. He'd always thought Jemma was pretty, but tonight she looked positively stunning in a floral summer dress and mid-heeled sandals. Her hair fell in loose, artful curls to her shoulders; her makeup understated.

Fitz forced a smile as he stood. "Joseph Petrenko's a lucky man."

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A/N: I've had a few requests for an extension of 'Imposter', so watch this space ;)