Family Christmas

If they want to be honest with themselves, as a child neither Skye nor Grant looked forward Christmastime.

For her, it meant uncertainty and actual letdown; never really knowing whether she'd actually spend the holiday with her current foster family or back at the orphanage. It meant being sidelined, or even forgotten. It meant eloquent speeches about God and his love, out of which she got nothing. (One year she actually got shipped back to the orphanage on Christmas Eve, and spent the majority of the holiday with grumpy social workers.)

For him, it meant facades and lies; putting on a fake smile and pretending that everything is wonderful. It meant putting on matching sweaters with his siblings for a Christmas photo, then hiding away in his room afterwards to avoid his mother's wrath for the photo not turning out the way she wanted. It meant grueling midnight services, cheerful lies in the cold church, noisy relatives and fights behind closed doors. (One year he even thought about running away; Christian found out and told their mother.)

So neither of them would have thought that they would get to this – to a living room decorated in festive colors, full of friends and family (the line between the two has been washed away long ago).

Coulson, May and Bobbi quietly discussing something in the corner – most likely reminiscing about some old mission. Jemma and Audrey on the couch, gushing over baby Ada. Haylie monopolizing Hunter's attention, climbing all over his lap. Fitz, Trip and Mack being more interested in putting together the toy they brought for Haylie than in anything else.

Skye lets out a content sigh and burrows deeper into Grant's chest, his arms around her waist.

"You know," she says, looking over their family, "I don't think I could ask for more. This is just perfect – the family I've ever wanted."

"Agreed," he nods, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. "But…"

"But?"

"But next year let's have FitzSimmons or Coulson host."

"You're reading my mind."