Love you all, please review, god, I've got a load of homework to do.
More Simmons family and (a bit) younger FitzSimmons.
This one's fairly long - bye!
"Look, all I'm saying Jemma is that..."
"I know what you're saying Fitz, and all I'm saying is that you're not spending Christmas alone." She didn't turn from her position, facing away from him, watching from the window of the taxi, but he could hear the disapproval in her voice without needing to see her face.
"Yes, but..."
"But nothing." She cut him off again. "Besides, I've already told mum you're coming." A short laugh - more a huff of breath than anything else - escaped her. "She's made up the spare bedroom and everything."
He snorted, and she turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.
"My mum loves you." She told him, simply and matter of fact.
He raised an eyebrow of his own in return, as she studiously watched the roads become more residential as they neared their destination at the edge of London.
Your mum's never met me." Came the short, if truthful, reply.
A roll of her eyes was the only response as they turned into a small cul-de-sac, Victoria Road, he noted idly, as Jemma seemed to bubble over with glee.
Over the past few months he'd seen her at various stages of anxiety and joy, but never as full of pure exhilaration as this - this pure unadulterated happiness of coming home.
Passing over a handful of notes to the taxi driver in the front seat, he helped her pull the (many) suitcases to the front door - halfway up the driveway (which would have been easy to spot in the dimming light, even without the multitude of Christmas lights that lined it, or the decorations adorning every window - who knew Jemma could actually be the normal one in her family when it came to Christmas), when the front door burst open, two small blurs threatening to knock the pair over as they swarmed for their elder sister.
Fitz knew who they were, sort of, Jess and Evan - the Terrors (and that's with a capital 't') as Jemma was apt to call them - balls of energy and mischief and intelligence wrapped inside bodies too small for it all so it seeped out at the edges, embedding parts of themselves in everything they touched, everything they saw.
There were other things he noticed, such as the fact that Evan hadn't even noticed him, but had already nicked his sister's suitcase, and was trying to run off with it, had it not been so heavy, and Jess had slipped a hand inside her big sister's, sending a small smile in his direction - which (according to Jemma) was big for the shy little girl who looked to be an image of her sister.
Eventually they made it into the cosy semi-detached home, Fitz making an excellent first impression as he almost knocked over Jemma's mother, while watching Jemma lock the front door.
She shook her head as he attempted to apologise, scolding himself inside.
"It's nice to finally meet you Leo." Her voice was kind, but her eyes were trained on her oldest daughter, and he could feel Jemma's returning glare even with his back turned.
"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Simmons," he replied with a nervous, apologetic, half smile - because believe it or not, his grandmother did raise him to have manners, even if he chose not to use them in most situations.
"Emily." She corrected. "Evan, show Leo up to the spare bedroom. Jemma, kitchen."
"I told you he was real," he heard Simmons hiss, supposedly too quiet for him to hear, but they were gone before he could hear her mother's response.
With a last look back at the women's' retreating backs, Fitz followed the nine year old up the stairs and to the end of the hallway passing his best friend's childhood bedroom (no, he wasn't looking, the door was open), and he couldn't help but hide a small chuckle as he realised the purple room, filled with bookcases and shelves and half-finished experiments, was almost exactly what he had imagined for the slightly older girl.
"What did your mum want?" He didn't even have to look up as she walked into the room a scant five minutes after Evan had abandoned him for something or another.
She shrugged. "Nothing much." Sitting on the bed, she turned to him. "Do you ever notice the difference between remembering home and being home?"
He shrugged, a small smile on his face as he imitated her.
And they remained in silence, Simmons lying on the bed, and Fitz making sure he hadn't left all his underwear in America. (Again)
Or at least until Evan came barrelling into the room, talking a hundred words a second about fire and burning and dad and help, just as the smoke alarms starting blaring and Emily shouting, "David!" could he heard throughout the house.
The gesture Simmons made at that point towards Fitz could probably be summed up as, 'welcome to Bedlam'.
Thank you for reading, and please review,
Mia
