'Nother chapter! Just a point - I don't have a beta or anything, so if you spot a spelling mistake or whatnot, point it out to me so I can change it. Merci beaucoup.

I'm about halfway through chapter 4 of After - and it's gonna be a long one, don't worry.

Please review, and see you probably later tonight. Bye.


They were never quite sure who threw the first ball, obviously it could be narrowed down to either half of FitzSimmons but beyond that?

Well, neither of them were admitting to it.

The first ball to hit someone other than its intended target? That one was easy - judging by the shocked amusement that covered Simmons' face, and the expression on Fitz's that fell exactly on the line between fear and ..., well actually just fear, as he watched the white sludge drip down the back on Ward's head a few metres to Simmons left.

The elder agent didn't say a word, as he lowered himself slightly, pulling the snow at his feet into a ball of his own, the three younger ones stood completely still, and yet while FitzSimmons were tinged with caution, Skye showed no sign of stopping in her (almost contagious, judging by the smiles that said scientists were trying to fight) giggles.

Her laughs stopped two seconds later when a snowball collided with the young hacker's chest.

From that point it descended into chaos - Fitz against Simmons against Ward against Skye - until they forgot they were not only SHIELD agents (sort of), but they were - technically - adults, and having a full on snow ball fight in the middle of the night in some country north of the Arctic Circle wasn't what normal well adjusted adults spent their time doing.

But whoever said they were normal well adjusted adults in the first place?

Cheeks flushed, entire body freezing and boiling at the same time, exhilaration seeping from every pore, it certainly wasn't the most comfortable they'd ever been - especially considering that gloves and hats and (in ... certain cases) even coats had been left on the plane, and the realisation that (though not new, was certainly valid) that, if anything, snow was fricking cold.

They almost missed the forced coughing sound from the lowered cargo bay door, and the man making the noise.

Almost, but not quite.

Coulson stood, just two steps away from the edge of the snow, his face set in a look of moderate disapproval (no change there), and his suit as immaculate as always.

Well, almost.

Save for the very large, very obvious, white circle marring the chest of it.

The excuses couldn't come fast enough.


Thank you for reading, and please review,
Mia