Mistletoe

(He never saw that kiss coming.)

Although he found the family dynamics that characterized their lives on the Bus endearing – albeit sometimes a bit annoying –, he just failed to see the point in decorating the plane for the Holidays – it was not a home (technically, anyway), after all, but an operational base. It should have been practical and functional, not… festive.

(Still, when Fitz asked, he helped to put up the lights in the lounge.)

But his cooperation put aside, the point still remained that they didn't need fake frost on the cabin windows and tinsel wound around the railings of the shelves and a plastic Christmas tree in the corner with freaking Captain America baubles. Honestly, the room looked like Santa's elves threw up in it (and no, this opinion didn't make him a Grinch, no matter what certain people said).

"It's pretty home-y, isn't it?" Skye asked, appearing suddenly by his side as he stood by the galley counter, his morning coffee in hand, making him turn his scornful attention from the winter wonderlandized lounge to her. But he barely turned to face her – let alone say a word –, when she pushed herself to the tip of her toes, grabbed his chin in one hand, and kissed him.

Quickly.

Playfully.

Full on the mouth.

Then the next moment her lips were gone, and she was grinning up at him gleefully.

"Mistletoe," she said in explanation, pointing above his head, then – while he looked up – she snatched the mug from his hand, turned around, and left, humming some awful Christmas carol under her breath.

And he just remained standing there, dazed, confused, coffee-less, and heart racing.

(Maybe those Christmas decorations weren't that bad idea, after all.)