A/N: So this is a whole lot of fluff. I needed it. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Thanks for all your reviews and favorites and messages. They mean a lot to me, and I'm hoping that tomorrow I'll get a few minutes to reply to all of them.

Also, because I can't get over how much I liked the Maximoff twins in "Age of Ultron," so they're going to show up too. Why not, right?

And Skye's dog Little Bear is based on Chloe Bennet's dog Arthur, because I think he's the cutest thing ever, and I don't think that about a lot of dogs.

Enjoy!

Skye opened her eyes and was looking directly at Jemma's eyelids. Her girlfriend, usually so refined and proper even in sleep, was curled towards her, their foreheads nearly touching. Skye could feel Jemma's slow, even breaths on her cheeks and there was something oddly comforting about that.

After a few minutes Skye gently wriggled out of bed, tucking the covers back up around Jemma. She slipped on a pair of socks, pulled her hair up into a knot on the top of her head, and poked her hearing aids into her ears. The world became a little sharper.

Professor May's house was silent around her. Skye could tell, because in addition to not picking up any residual sounds, she also wasn't feeling any vibrations – no one was walking around, dishes weren't being moved in the kitchen, the TV wasn't on in the living room. She was perfectly safe to go and get a drink of water.

Skye made it to the living room before she realized she was wrong. Professor May was sitting on a yoga mat on the white carpet, folded up into one of those pretzel-y poses that probably had some sort of name like refined and seated Buddha or resplendent lotus blossom. (Skye had never been into yoga.) Whatever it was, the professor was sitting very still, her hands on her knees with her palms up, eyes closed, breathing in and out in a way that suggested she was in some sort of trance.

Skye froze in the doorway. She really wanted a drink of water, but at the same time she really didn't want to walk past Professor May. Not because she was afraid of interrupting the woman's morning yoga session, though that would be unfortunate, but because something in her was telling her that Professor May was like a ninja, and Skye wouldn't make it to the kitchen before being grabbed by the ankles or something and made to talk about her feelings.

She sighed, thinking of her choices. She could go back to bed. She could climb out a window. She could open the front door and sprint away (which would probably last all of twelve seconds in her sock feet). Or she could do the unexpected.

Skye sat down five or six feet away from Professor May and attempted to copy the woman's twisty yoga pose. She got her legs crossed and her feet up onto her knees, then straightened her spine and watched the professor carefully, copying her breathing pattern.

Four in… four out…

The rhythm became so persuasive and consuming that Skye forgot she was twisted up in an awkward pose, forgot she was so uncomfortable in Melinda and Maria's house, forgot she was uncomfortable calling Professor May Melinda, forgot that last night she'd screamed, babbled, and vomited, forgot all of it. For the first time in weeks all of her negative anxieties flowed out of her, being pushed out by her long, slow exhales. On the inhales new thoughts started sprouting in her mind.

Thanksgiving is this weekend. I'll get to spend five whole days at home with Summer and Little Bear. I'll get to show Jemma everything I love about being home. Also, pumpkin pie.

The absolute feeling of relaxation and relief was so new that Skye felt limp and woozy, but in the best way possible. Her heart rate was slow and she felt amazingly gooey, like a caramel left in a car on a hot summer day.

I might have been wrong about yoga.

When Skye opened her eyes Professor May had moved closer, her position more relaxed; the older woman was drinking from a water bottle and watching Skye with an amused expression. It was a testament to the relaxing power of the breathing and the stretching that Skye's completely gooey body barely reacted to that – sure, her heartbeat sped up and her palms got sweaty, but she refused to let it shove away all of the calm she'd discovered.

Professor May put her water bottle down. First time?

With y-o-g-a? Skye wasn't even sure there was a sign for it. She nodded.

What did you think?

Skye tried to remain aloof and reserved, but the endorphins flooding her system had other ideas. It makes me feel amazing.

Me too, Professor May replied.

Skye picked at a loose thread on her pajama pants.

Can we talk? Professor May asked when Skye looked back up at her.

Normally Skye would have panicked, but she felt like warm, gently fizzing taffy, and she didn't want to get up. She didn't want to run. The sitting and the breathing had given her the courage to listen, at least for the next few minutes. And running was still an option.

She nodded.

Professor May gave her a small smile and twisted the top back onto her water bottle. Five years ago… she signed hesitantly, … I was working with another student. A deaf girl, like you. Katia. She was being harassed by another student, a man, just like you are now. And… it didn't end the right way. She died. I've spent five years trying to figure out what I did wrong, what I could have done better, what more I could have done to save her. She deserved to be saved. You deserve to be saved.

Skye started to sign, but the professor waved her hands. Stop, stop, no. I've realized that there are so many differences between you and Katia. And I'm different. We're different.

The professor took a sip of water. Katia didn't want to be saved. She deserved it but she didn't want it. You're different, Skye. You want to be saved, you deserve it, and more than that, you have people around you who want nothing more than to see you achieve your greatest potential. You fight, and they fight – we fight – together.

It was one of the signs Skye had shown Jemma in the beginning, way back when, and she loved how it felt when she signed it. Together, she repeated to Professor May.

I know you've been thinking that I had something to do with Katia's death, Professor May went on, and I guess that's true, as much as I had something to do with her life. But I wasn't in control of that situation. I'm not in control of this one. I can only be who I can be, give as much as I can give, and remember that there's no shame in loving and trying to help people. As an educator I want to give young people the best experiences of their lives – but I have to remember that being able to touch their lives isn't the same as being able to live their lives. Or save them.

Skye thought about this. At last she brought her hands up. I'm so sorry.

Why?

First for thinking you had something to do with Katia's death. And second for thinking you would ever do something to hurt me. You've supported me since I got here and you've done nothing but try to help me. I know a lot of people don't get to see this side of you, and I'm sure the majority of the students here would just fall over dead if they knew you live in a house with pig-shaped potholders and doll magazines in the bathroom and four different flavors of iced tea in the fridge. I think it's hard for students to remember that their teachers have "real lives." Skye hesitated. And I'm really grateful that you've let me into yours.

Less like teacher and student, and more like… Professor May thought about this. More like emotionally reserved aunt and…

She wasn't sure how to finish her thought, and Skye waved her hands. More like just family, she signed. All the people who care about me here at Barnham are like family.

Professor May smiled. Family, she agreed.

Skye suddenly felt thirsty again and she realized she could feel vibrations in the floor. Someone else was awake. She got to her feet.

Skye, thank you for listening to me, Professor May signed, touching Skye's arm gently. And if you'd like to learn yoga, or meditation, I'd be more than happy to teach you.

Skye smiled, and then impulsively flung her arms around Professor May.

The older woman hesitated for a moment, then reached up and returned the hug. When Skye released her, the professor signed, If we're family, there's something you need to do.

Okay, Skye signed hesitantly.

You can call me Melinda.

Skye looked at her seriously.

You really can, Professor May signed. I promise.

Skye bit her lip, and then signed, Okay. Okay, Melinda.

Was that weird?

You have no idea, Skye replied.

The decision was made that they would make no decision as to Skye and Jemma's move to the Loft, mostly because there were only two days left before the Thanksgiving break.

"It'll still be an option when you return," Maria told Jemma as Melinda signed the message to Skye. "And if you feel unsafe at any time, please let me know. We'll make sure you're taken care of."

That sounds like a Mafia threat.

I don't know anyone in the Mafia, Melinda replied.

"Thank you for arranging this for us," Jemma said. "We really appreciate all you've done to look after us."

Skye nodded in agreement.

"Please let us know if you need anything," Maria said. "You're always welcome in our home."

She hugged both girls before they headed off to campus.

Tuesday passed in a blur and before Skye knew it, she and Jemma were snuggling amidst a pile of blankets on the floor in her room, their luggage packed and waiting by the door. I can't wait to introduce you to Little Bear.

Your dog?

My little fluffy teddy bear of snuggly wuggly love, Skye corrected.

I didn't understand half of that, Jemma signed, but she grinned. I love that you get all silly about your dog.

You'll love him too once you meet him.

Skye pulled the blanket up around her and smiled at Jemma.

I don't have to bring anything, right? Jemma asked. What's a traditional American Thanksgiving gift?

I always appreciate cash, Skye replied.

Don't be silly, Jemma signed. I just don't know what's traditional. Fitz and I don't really do Thanksgiving.

Then her eyes lit up.

What? Skye asked.

Fitz! I forgot about Fitz! Jemma sat bolt upright. We're supposed to talk tonight!

She scrambled out of the blanket nest and grabbed her backpack.

Skye watched her carefully. She still hadn't "met" Fitz, either in person or online, but she understood that he was a very important person in Jemma's life.

He wants to meet you, Jemma signed as she returned to the blankets with her laptop. Is that okay?

Skye was uncertain. Maybe?

You don't have to if you don't want to, Jemma signed hesitantly.

Skye thought about it. She didn't want to disappoint Jemma, but she only knew Fitz as the guy who had created the gloves that she didn't want to wear. In her heart she knew Fitz had only wanted the best for their relationship, and that he didn't understand deaf culture at all, but it still hurt that Jemma had thought a machine was better than learning, better than communicating, even if it meant struggling. They'd turned out all right, hadn't they?

She looked up. She could feel the vibrations of Jemma talking, and she instantly made eye contact with a red-cheeked boy with curly hair who was beaming at her from Jemma's computer screen. His mouth moved; she watched it: "Hi," he was saying.

Skye took a deep breath. "Hi," she said.

Skye, this is Fitz, Jemma signed, and then she spoke. "Fitz, this is Skye."

And Fitz blushed furiously, and Skye smiled, and she knew everything was going to be okay.

For the rest of the conversation, Jemma signed, going between Skye's signs and Fitz's voice, and somehow they all communicated. Fitz asked Skye's opinion on monkeys (why not?) and berets (on some guys). Skye asked Fitz what he liked the best about Jemma (her smile, her competitive spirit, and how she gave great birthday presents).

When the conversation was almost over, Skye looked at Jemma. Would it be okay if I talked to Fitz alone for a minute?

Jemma gave her a sideways look. How do you want to do that?

Well, you go stand in the hall, Skye answered.

Right, but how will you understand him?

Ask him if he has some paper and a marker handy, Skye replied. We'll do it the old-fashioned way.

Jemma still looked skeptical, but she relayed Skye's request to Fitz and then said goodbye to her friend. I'll be in the hall, she informed Skye.

"I'm going to use my voice," Skye said once Jemma was gone.

On the screen, Fitz nodded.

"I want to take Jemma to my house for Christmas," Skye said, making sure she spoke clearly. "And I want to cook a special meal. And I want you to be there too. What kind of things do British people eat?"

Fitz took a moment to write his response, then held it up to the web-cam. I would love to come to your house for Christmas. I don't know what all British people eat at Christmas, but the last time I was at Jemma's house for Christmas we had roast pheasant, stuffing, potatoes, and a Christmas yule log cake. I brought Dundee cake – that's a Scottish dessert.

"That all sounds very complicated," Skye said.

Fitz shrugged and scrawled a response. I could help you. I love to cook.

"You would do that?"

Fitz nodded.

Skye smiled with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, her voice sticking in her throat.

His next response took him a few minutes longer to write. I know we don't know each other very well, but I'm hoping we can fix that. Jemma talks about you and her eyes light up and I know you make her very happy. I was worried about leaving her this semester. We've always been together, we've done everything together since we took our A-levels and I didn't want to be the one who ruined that relationship. I know it's two different relationships, what she and I have and what you two have together, but I'm so glad she has you in her life. I'm glad you are with her.

"I'm glad I'm with her too," Skye said.

He held up a finger as though asking her to wait, and scribbled another message. Jemma told me that you didn't want the gloves, and at first I didn't understand why. Then I did some reading on Deaf culture, and I understand. It's meant a lot to Jemma to be able to speak your language, and I shouldn't have tried to force our language on you. I like to think that you and Jemma share something even deeper than your relationship, because you've learned to communicate in a way that's more complex than the way most couples communicate. When I come back I hope you'll consider teaching me some sign language too.

"Yes," Skye said, and she showed him the sign.

Yes, Fitz signed, and he grinned.

"Thank you," Skye said, and she showed him the sign for that as well.

Yes. Thank you, Fitz signed. He was beaming.

When Skye turned out the lights and lay down next to Jemma, she was still smiling.

Happy, she signed to Jemma before she drifted off to sleep.

I love you, Jemma replied, tapping the sign into her palm.

Skye leaned in and kissed Jemma on the forehead. Thank you for taking such good care of me. I can't wait to give you a proper American Thanksgiving.

So excited! Jemma signed with false enthusiasm, and ducked as Skye hit her with a pillow.

Go to sleep, Skye signed.

Yes. So many things to thank you for, Jemma signed.

We'll work on that one.

As they pulled up the driveway, snow started falling. Skye let out a squeal and Summer jerked the car to the right.

"Skye!" she barked.

Skye was giggling like mad, and she rolled down the window to scream at the snow. "I! Luh! Snow!" she got out, her voice choked with excitement.

"I'm sorry about her, Jemma," Summer said, rolling her eyes.

"I love snow too," Jemma replied. "We don't get enough of it in England."

Skye barely waited for the car to stop before she bolted towards the back door.

"God, she's like a child," Summer said. "Welcome to our house, Jemma. Please help yourself to anything you'd like, and if you need anything, pinch Skye until she finds it for you."

Jemma smiled and took her backpack from the car. "I'll be just fine."

Skye was in the kitchen of the small but comfortable-looking house, holding the cutest dog Jemma had ever seen. The dog looked like a fluffy teddy bear, and his adorable face seemed to be smiling up at Skye. Jemma was even more surprised to hear Skye's voice, high and goofy, as she jabbered away in baby talk to the dog.

"Muh-muh wuv wittle bear," Skye informed the dog.

The dog beamed up at her.

"Does your dog smile?" Jemma asked Summer.

"Weird, right?" Summer put her purse on the counter, then stomped on the floor to get Skye's attention.

I'm in the middle of a reunion with my best friend, Skye informed her, shifting the dog to one side so she could sign.

Fine, but whenever you're done making out with the dog, I want you to go over and see if I can borrow the Maximoffs' Bundt pan. I want to make a coffee cake for tomorrow morning. We can eat it while we watch the parade. And tell them to be here at ten.

Fine, fine, Skye signed.

"Our neighbors. Wanda and Pietro," Summer elaborated for Jemma. "They live at the edge of the woods, just over the creek. And it's just the two of them, no other relatives, so they'll be joining us for Thanksgiving tomorrow."

"They don't have any children?"

Summer looked confused for a moment, and then she laughed. "Oh, they're not married," she said. "They're brother and sister. Twins."

"Oh," Jemma said.

"They're your age," Summer said. "A little lonely, but they're two of Skye's best friends."

"Nnnn," Skye interrupted vocally, then signed, This is my best friend right here.

The dog smiled up at Skye.

That's gross, Summer signed.

You're just jealous because he loves me more than you. And because you wanted to name him "Arthur."

He looks like an Arthur, Summer protested, and to Jemma she said, "Sometimes I call him Arthur when she's not around."

The dog turned his head to Summer and gave her a smile. Then he wiggled around in Skye's arms and looked at Jemma, then gave a short, soft bark.

"Wittle bear, dis is Jemma," Skye informed the dog, still using her baby-talk voice. "She wuvs you too."

You know, I think that's really, really hot, Jemma signed. Can you do that later?

Skye gave her a Look and raised her eyebrows. Don't press your luck.

She held the dog up towards Jemma, and immediately Little Bear scrambled over to land in Jemma's arms, giving her a lick on her cheek and then beaming up at her with his sweet doggy smile.

"I like it here," Jemma said, and grinned.