Skye tapped her fingers on her coffee cup as she waited for her aunt. She'd arrived an hour early at Filter in order to secure a good table that would allow for some privacy. Unfortunately that hour had allowed plenty of time for nerves to settle in as well.

Alanna had been back in D.C. for a week, though this was the first time they'd scheduled a time to meet. Skye had put her off at first because she was trying to make a decision about the family holiday she knew Alanna wanted her to participate in. Now that Thanksgiving was just over a week away, she felt more pressure to give Alanna an answer.

The door opened again, and Skye raised a hand when she saw Alanna look in her direction. The older woman smiled and crossed the room to meet her. Skye tried not to stiffen up when Alanna hugged her in greeting.

Alanna gave her one last squeeze before releasing her. "You're just going to have to get used to that, Skye. Henna and Jenny will both attest to the fact that regardless of environment, I'm a hugger."

Skye couldn't help laughing. "It's okay." She waved down the barista and they placed their orders.

Glancing at the empty cup the barista took away, Alanna asked, "How long have you been here?"

"About an hour," Skye told her. "I had a late night, and I'll probably have another one tonight, so I'm taking a long lunch. They don't need me back until four."

"I remember those days. I heard about your clearance bump – that's impressive, Skye. Congratulations."

Skye smiled at Alanna. "Thanks. It's a lot more work, but I finally feel like I can do something worthwhile to make a difference."

They continued to talk over coffee and sandwiches. Alanna told her about the case she'd been working on with the Austin P.D., showing her a newspaper clipping that covered the resulting bust. Child sex trafficking was much more of a problem in the U.S. than Skye had ever realized before talking to her aunt about it. It was something that Alanna was passionate about, and Skye learned that she had also addressed several state lawmakers and Congress about the issue.

"International airports are a big problem because they're meeting places – people coming into the country and picking up a girl or boy on their way out of the airport, if you can believe that. After the holidays I'm meeting with the FBI at their field office in Atlanta," Alanna told her. "But I can do most of the work from here, so I plan to stay in D.C. for a while."

"They're lucky to have you," Skye said. "I've been developing programs that make the dark net searchable. I'll put out a few hooks and see if anything comes back that might help you. I tip off the local authorities any time I come across something that falls outside SHIELD's parameters."

"SHIELD's focus is narrow," Alanna agreed. "I don't mean to downplay their role because I know it's important, but it is one of the reasons I left."

"I never saw myself with some big agency. And definitely not SHIELD – I was very anti-big brother when Coulson caught me poking around in their servers."

Alanna insisted on getting the check when they were finished. Since Skye still had an hour, they walked and window shopped. Christmas decorations were already up in most of the stores they passed, and Skye paused to look at a tree displayed in the window of an antiques shop.

"That's really pretty," Alanna commented. "Do you usually put up a tree?"

"I do now that I have a place to put it," Skye said. "I had a table tree when I lived in the dorm. My apartment is small – tiny, really – but I can squeeze a tree into the corner as long as it's the runt of the lot. They put up a tree at the orphanage but Christmas was kind of depressing back then. Now I can make my own traditions."

"Have you given any more thought to Thanksgiving?" Alanna asked. "I'm not trying to rush you, but I would love to have you with us. This weekend I'm decorating the house and I was hoping you'd stop by."

Skye knew she'd put off the decision long enough. "Look, I'm not gonna lie – part of me wants to come and part of me wants to stay as far away from Quartermain as possible. Just being in the same room with him is enough to push my buttons lately. I'd hate to ruin the holiday for everyone."

"Clay told me that he invited you to dinner and you shut him down, which is understandable," Alanna said carefully. "I'm afraid Henna has been pushing him to reach out to you."

"So it wasn't even his idea. Good to know." Skye twisted the handle of her bag and kept her eyes firmly on the tree in the window. She was surprised by how much that hurt. At least she had an answer about his sudden change of heart.

"Skye, he wants to connect with you more than he'll admit to himself or anyone else. If he didn't then no amount of encouragement from Henna would change that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he's my brother," she replied simply. "He's good at hiding, but he can't hide that well from me. I think he resigned himself to losing a place in your life in order to keep you safe. Now? Everything has changed. If this was a mission, he'd adjust and keep going. Instead he's being forced to stop and see the flesh and blood daughter he gave up. He won't talk about it, but I think he's feeling defensive about his past decisions. He's questioning everything and for a man like Clay, that's hard."

"Yeah, well, growing up in an orphanage was hard too," Skye said, her tone sharper than she intended. There was more that she could say, but she swallowed down the angry words. Alanna wasn't to blame for Quartermain's decisions.

"I know it must have been," Alanna replied. She reached out and took Skye's hand, squeezing it gently. "If Clay had told me about you, I feel like we could have come up with an alternative. I could have developed a relationship with you during my volunteer work there, and after a few years, I could have adopted you. At least then you would have been with family."

Skye shook her head. "It's a nice fairy tale, but I'd rather know the truth – about my mother, about her people. About where I come from."

"I know there's more to your story, Skye. But you do have us now. You're a Quartermain. Don't deny that part of yourself because you're angry with Clay."

Keeping her eyes on the tree was difficult because her vision was blurring, and she blinked back the tears. "I'll come." She wasn't sure how she was going to get through it without throwing the china at Quartermain, but she didn't want to deny herself a chance to know the other members of her family. "And I'll come this weekend too – to help decorate." When she glanced over at her aunt, she was beaming.

"Good," Alanna told her. "I have something I want to give you." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope which she handed over to Skye.

She took it curiously. Inside were five photographs and she froze, shocked when she saw who was in them.

"I debated whether or not I should give these to you after I found them," Alanna told her. "I mentioned before that I've done a lot of volunteer work with the church. I went looking for photos because I wondered if you were in any of them. I'd forgotten about this, actually. It was Clay's first holiday in Texas in nearly five years."

Skye's heart was pounding and her hands felt clammy as she stared at herself in the first photo. She was wearing a red dress with white tights and shiny black shoes, and her hair was starting to slip out of the braids the nuns preferred. She remembered the shoes, of all things – how shiny they were and how they tapped against the stone tiles in the old church.

She didn't remember sitting across from her father as he watched her color. He was smiling at her, completely unguarded for once.

"I was pregnant with the twins, so you must have been five, almost six," Alanna continued. "Clay helped me deliver some toys for Christmas, and then he disappeared. I was surprised to find him sitting in the rec room with the kids."

Skye's fingers trembled as she looked at the other photos – in one, Clay was handing out crayons to her and the other kids. In the third, it looked like she was telling him a story about her picture, and he was giving her his full attention.

She slid them back into the envelope without looking at the last two. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"I don't know," Alanna replied softly. "I'm not trying to make things more difficult for you. I just felt like you should see them."

"I have to go," Skye said abruptly. She shoved the envelope into her bag.

"Skye…"

"I'll call you about this weekend," she interrupted. "I just… I don't want to talk about this."

To her credit, Alanna backed off immediately. "No, I understand. I didn't mean to upset you, honey."

"It's fine," Skye told her. She tried to shake it off and smile, but it was a strained effort.

"I also wanted to tell you that you're more than welcome to invite friends to come for Thanksgiving dinner. I have plenty of room at the table, and I thought you'd feel more comfortable that way."

"I usually spend Thanksgiving with AC and my friends, Fitz and Jemma. Sometimes May joins us."

"And the young man you were with at the park?" Alanna asked curiously.

"Grant. We work together and we're friends. I don't know how he'd feel about Thanksgiving, though." She couldn't deny that the idea of having him there for moral support appealed to her.

They said goodbye and Skye walked slowly back to the train station. She could invite Coulson and May, and since she'd finally told Fitz and Jemma the whole story, she could invite them, too. The problem was that she could practically feel the awkward tension already since May hated Quartermain, and Fitz and Jemma were still very indignant on her behalf. Despite his personal feelings about Quartermain, Coulson would probably maintain a friendly front. Since Alanna, her husband and the twins would be there, she hoped the others would do the same if she asked them to come. She didn't want to sabotage a family dinner her aunt was working hard to plan.

She wasn't sure about inviting Grant. Now that she was certain of her feelings, their every interaction seemed wired, fraught with awareness and tension and the words she was careful not to even hint at. Still, she knew that having him there would go a long way towards helping her control her anxiety.

Back at the office, Skye threw herself into her work and tried to forget the envelope in her bag. She went to a briefing with Grant and his team, and she delivered her plans to hack the security system for a job that night. Skye knew she had to be on point and focused, and she pushed aside everything else for the next few hours.

She and Grant worked from his office since it wasn't necessary for her to be on site. The mission went smoothly, and when the team returned, they debriefed before calling it a night.

Skye smiled in acknowledgement as Trip patted her shoulder. "Good work, rookie."

When the specialists adopted that nickname for her, she was offended until Grant explained it was a sign that they had accepted her as part of the team. The other cyber security experts were known by last names only, and after that she noticed that while the specialists like Trip, Ali, Natasha and Ricky were professional, a certain distance was maintained with others like Greg. She'd gotten through their reserve, had gained their acceptance, and she imagined it was a little like being drafted by the best team in the league.

She was thankful that Quartermain wasn't part of this mission. It hadn't escaped her attention that he often bowed out when she was running ops with Grant from his office and popped back up only when there was a possibility she'd be sent into the field. Coulson's words came back to her – that Quartermain had only begun involving himself in flash missions when she started working on them.

The envelope was practically burning a hole through her bag as she sat with the team at McGillevrey's. Skye tried to hide her distraction, but she could tell by the way Grant was looking at her that she wasn't successful. She sipped her beer and half listened to the guys talking football, only looking up when Natasha said her name. "Sorry, what?"

"I said I owe you a drink," Natasha said, raising a brow at her. "How about Thanksgiving weekend – does Saturday night work for you? I hear most people need a stiff drink after spending a weekend with extended family."

Skye and Jemma had talked about going to dinner or a movie that weekend because they hadn't had a girls' night out in a while, either. "Do you mind if I invite Jemma? You met her at Black Cat that night."

"I remember," Natasha said. "Why not? It'll be a real ladies' night."

"You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" Ricky joked.

Skye smiled. "I can handle myself, thanks."

Ali declined Natasha's invitation to join them, claiming prior plans. Skye wondered if those plans included Grant. Fifteen minutes later she decided to head out since she was still trying to keep her morning appointments with May even when she had late nights. She could always crash on the sofa in Jemma's lab for a few hours at lunch time.

"Good job tonight Skye," Ricky said when she stood up. "Glad to have you on our team."

"Thanks." She pulled on her coat and hat, unsurprised when Grant stood up to walk her out. But she'd timed her exit carefully to coincide with the bus, and it was coming down the street when they reached the small shelter at the bus stop.

"Skye, is something wrong?" Grant asked.

"I just have a lot on my mind," she answered. "I promise I won't let it interfere with the missions though."

His brows drew together. "I'm not concerned about the missions. I'm concerned about you. You met Alanna for lunch today, right? Did something happen?"

She should have realized he'd immediately connect those dots. "I'm helping her decorate the house for the holidays this weekend, and I agreed to have Thanksgiving dinner with them."

"That's not all of it."

Skye glanced at the bus pulling up. She could ditch the bus and ask him for a ride home. She could invite him in and she could show him the pictures. She could tell him about Quartermain's awkward dinner invitation and ask him for his insight into what could possibly be going on inside her father's head. Then she could ask him to come with her on Thanksgiving weekend.

Except once she started opening up to him, she was afraid it would all come spilling out – her feelings, hopes and fears, and how much she didn't want to say goodbye at the end of the night anymore. She didn't need the SHIELD handbook to know that would likely be a mistake since they were working closely together on high level missions now. She just didn't know how to keep this all separate anymore, and she suspected that Grant still wanted things to be simple between them.

Turning back to him, she smiled. "It's fine. I just have a lot to think about. I'll see you tomorrow."

He didn't stop her when she walked away. She looked out the window when she settled into her seat and watched him grow smaller until he was swallowed up by the darkness.

Skye kept busy in her apartment, washing the dishes from the day before and folding the load of laundry that had been piled on her sofa for the last few days. Then she changed the sheets on her bed and took a shower, dressed in her warmest pajamas, and slid under her covers.

Five minutes later she was up again, digging through her bag until she found the envelope. She took a deep breath and then pulled out the photos. She looked at the first three again, noting every detail of Quartermain's expression and posture. He seemed relaxed and he was smiling, but she also thought he looked a little sad. Sad and something else – some other emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on.

She bit her lip and looked at the last two photos. In the first it looked like she was giving him the picture she'd drawn as he was helping to pass out gifts. She sat cross legged on the floor next to him, a box in her lap as she handed him the paper she'd colored. In the last one, she was hugging a plush, chocolate brown bear close to her chest and beaming with pleasure.

Skye remembered that bear. It had been her prized possession, and she'd slept with it for years. She recalled what one of the nuns told her about the gift. She'd said Skye asked for it for months after seeing a girl at the park playing with one just like it. But it was a limited edition stuffed toy, and they weren't being sold anymore. She was surprised when Skye got the exact one she asked for when gifts were donated that year and often reminded Skye to take good care of it.

She stood up and walked to her bedroom, opening the small chest at the foot of her bed. Mr. Kutterman was nestled among her extra blankets and a few other keepsakes, and she picked him up before closing the chest.

It was an odd choice of name for a stuffed bear, especially considering her age when she'd named him. She could never recall why she'd settled on that name, but now she thought she knew. It sounded a lot like Quartermain.

Had he known she wanted that bear? It was hard to believe it was a coincidence since the bears weren't available to buy that Christmas. The only way he could have known about it was if he was in regular contact with Father Thomas.

She sat down on her bed and stared at Mr. Kutterman. He was a little worn and frayed, and he'd been mended in more than a few spots over the years, but he was still in good condition. She traced his eyes and nose and felt tears slipping down her cheeks. For the first time in almost ten years, she curled up with her bear and pulled the covers over both of them.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of training and mission planning. Skye felt subdued, and she dreaded seeing Quartermain again. She was still angry but it was tempered by confusion and hurt. She considered canceling on her aunt – only the knowledge of how disappointed Alanna would be stopped her.

Adding to her overall distraction was the stress of working closely with Grant. They spent hours in his office sharing takeout and troubleshooting issues that came up while working out the kinks on new missions that were cropping up on a near daily basis.

It was Friday night and Skye pinched the bridge of her nose as she squinted at her computer screen. She'd been running code for five hours straight; her shoulders were tense, aggravating the migraine she could feel coming on.

"Are you okay?" Grant asked.

She rolled her neck from side to side. "I'm fine, just tired."

Grant stood up and walked around his desk to stand behind her. Her fingers stilled on the keyboard when his hands landed on her shoulders, thumbs digging into her sore muscles. She bit back a moan of pleasure when he began massaging the back of her neck.

"You've been at this for hours," he said quietly. "Just relax for a minute."

The steady pressure was easing the pain in her neck and shoulders. She should tell him to stop. It just felt too good, and she craved his touch in a way she never had with anyone else. Skye knew they were fast reaching a point where she would have to talk to him about her feelings or find a way to get over them. To quote one of her foster brothers, it was time to fish or cut bait.

There were potential issues, of course. Grant had been assigned to the Triskelion for nearly six months straight, and she was afraid he'd be tapped for long term missions after the holidays. If he did return her feelings, something she wasn't even sure of, she had no idea how they'd balance a relationship against his undercover operations. Some assignments were relatively short and some were longer, but the specialists were on constant rotation when they weren't assigned to Washington.

"Better?" he asked.

His fingers slid up into her hair and massaged her scalp, and she was going to fall asleep if he kept it up.

"Yeah." She pulled away reluctantly. "I just need about half an hour and I'll be done."

Grant looked over at Skye, who had nodded off in the passenger seat when he insisted on driving her home. He wasn't comfortable with her taking the bus or a taxi that late when she was clearly exhausted. Despite the late nights, he knew she was continuing her training with May, and she'd been more tired than usual lately.

When they arrived at her brownstone, Skye handed him her keys and yawned as she followed him into the building. Grant completed a quick walk through before joining her back in the living room. He smiled when he saw her curled into the corner of the sofa.

"Hey, Skye? You should go to bed."

"I know," she replied, sighing with the effort of standing again. She walked into her bedroom and when he heard nothing else, he followed to see her lying on her side on top of the comforter, her arms wrapped around a stuffed brown bear.

She'd removed her shoes in the living room so rather than wake her, he covered her with two blankets he found in the chest at the end of her bed and turned off the light. Then he went into the kitchen and opened the drawer where he knew she kept her spare keys, and his attention was caught by the photos tossed on top of them.

He was surprised to see a much younger Quartermain, and the little girl he was looking at was clearly Skye. She hadn't mentioned seeing Quartermain lately, so he thought she probably got them from her aunt, which explained her distraction over the past week. He shouldn't be looking at them. If Skye wanted him to know about this, she'd tell him. But she was bottling up her feelings lately, and it bothered him a lot more than he wanted to admit.

He looked through the photos carefully, pausing when he recognized the bear he'd seen her holding. He knew she was meeting her aunt and cousins tomorrow, and even if she didn't see her father then, there would be no avoiding him next weekend.

Skye had asked him to come to her aunt's house for Thanksgiving dinner. Coulson, May, Fitz and Jemma had also been invited. He hadn't been stateside for the holidays in years, and this year he had planned to have dinner with the other specialists, minus Trip who was visiting his family that weekend. He'd put off giving her an answer by saying he was waiting for mission status updates. The reality was that he was still looking for ways to compartmentalize his feelings, and he doubted spending a major holiday with her would be conducive to that exercise.

After seeing the photos, Grant knew he was going to say yes. Hell, he probably would have said yes anyway, but he couldn't turn his back on her when she needed his support. Closing the drawer, he looked in on her one last time to find her snoring softly. He smiled and left her apartment, locking the door carefully behind him.

Skye woke on Thanksgiving morning feeling cautiously optimistic. She'd be helping Alanna and the twins with dinner, and Coulson, Fitz, Jemma and Grant were all scheduled to arrive around five o'clock. May had declined the invitation because she'd decided to visit her parents over the long weekend. Skye thought it was also because she didn't want her antipathy towards Quartermain to make Alanna and her family uncomfortable.

After spending the previous weekend decorating the large townhouse with her aunt and cousins, Skye had felt better about the idea of a family holiday dinner. By unspoken agreement they all stuck to light topics, and no one brought up Quartermain. Henna was as friendly as ever, making her feel welcome. Jenny was more reserved, an aspect of her personality that Grant had correctly guessed, but she warmed up to Skye over the course of the day. When their discussion turned to computers, they'd abandoned decorating the tree in favor of hacking demonstrations on Skye's modified tablet, much to Alanna's amusement.

She'd even agreed to stay with them the night before. Her guest room was nicer than any hotel she'd ever stayed in. She sat back against the pillows and stretched before getting out of bed and heading into the attached guest bath for a long shower, a luxury she didn't often have since the water heater at her apartment wasn't the greatest.

Alanna had assured her that dinner would be informal, so Skye had chosen skinny jeans, knee high black boots, and a form-fitting, deep emerald sweater to wear that evening. For now she dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie since she planned to spend the day in the kitchen.

It was still early when she went downstairs and headed into the large, open kitchen in search of the coffee she could smell brewing. She stopped short when she saw Quartermain seated at the island.

Skye bit her lip nervously. It was the first time she'd seen him in a couple of weeks. He had an apartment on the other side of town, and she knew that was where he was staying while he was in Washington. She'd been expecting to see him later, and she'd told herself she was ready for that meeting. Finding him there so early was unexpected, but she could do this.

"Hi."

He looked surprised. "Hi. There's coffee if you want it."

She nodded in acknowledgement and crossed to the cabinet that held the coffee cups. She could feel him watching her as she poured the coffee and added cream. No matter what, she was determined to have a good day, and she knew that would start with finding some kind of middle ground with her father.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to him. "You're here early."

"I picked up a few things Alanna forgot at the store," he explained, gesturing to the two bags on the island. "She likes to start cooking early."

"It's cold today." Wow – she lasted ten seconds before resorting to the weather. It wasn't exactly scintillating conversation, but it was clear they were both walking on eggshells around each other.

"It'll get colder. I hope your brownstone has a good heating system."

"It's fine." She walked over to the bags on the island and poked through them. "Alanna seems serious about this whole Thanksgiving dinner thing. Henna said we'll be busy all day."

"She took the responsibility seriously after our parents died. I'm not much help so I just try to stay out of her way."

"She may regret asking for my help. I've been known to burn oatmeal."

He smiled at that but his response was cut off by Alanna, who was talking over her shoulder to her husband, David, as she walked into the kitchen. She stopped abruptly when she saw them, and Skye could tell she was tempted to back out and leave them alone again.

"Hey, sis." Clay stood up and gave her a one armed hug. "Your groceries are over there."

"Thanks," Alanna replied. With a final look in Skye's direction, she shooed the men out.

Skye started unpacking the bags, smiling at her aunt when she joined her at the island.

"Is everything okay?" Alanna asked her.

Skye knew she was referring to Quartermain. "Yeah." Oddly enough, she thought she really was okay. It was awkward, but she felt like she could get through the day without blowing up at her father. That was something she hadn't been sure she could manage a week ago.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. Skye followed directions, once again bonding with Jenny over a lack of culinary skill. She and her cousin washed and chopped vegetables, peeled potatoes, and performed other tasks as Alanna and Henna got the turkey in the oven and prepared the side dishes and desserts. David and Quartermain were watching football, though David poked his head into the kitchen a few times with offers to help, only to be shooed out again by her aunt.

Henna switched places with Skye when Alanna started on the pies.

"This is your great-grandmother's recipe," Alanna explained. "So in honor of your first Thanksgiving with us, I want you to make the apple pie."

"You want to be able to eat the pie, right?" Skye said skeptically.

Her protests went unheeded by her aunt, much to her cousins' amusement, and Skye found herself making pie dough, rolling it out and mixing the freshly chopped apples with spices according to her aunt's instructions.

When they pulled it out of the oven, Skye was amazed. "It actually looks like an apple pie." She hadn't gotten the lattice top exactly right, but it smelled good.

Alanna put her arm around Skye. "It looks perfect to me."

Skye went upstairs to clean up and change before dinner. When she came back down, Coulson, Grant, Jemma and Fitz were in the living room with Alanna, Jenny, Henna, David and Quartermain.

"What up, AC," Skye said, smiling at him. "I made a pie."

"Really?" Coulson said, raising a brow. "Is it edible?"

She laughed at his teasing and then smiled at Grant. "Hey."

"Hey." His brown eyes were warm as he smiled back at her.

Just having him there – having all of them there, really – helped her relax. She introduced Jemma and Fitz, and soon she and her cousins were carrying the platters of food to the formal dining room. The table was already set, and Skye was seated next to her aunt with Grant beside her and Coulson across from her. Jemma was next to Coulson, and then Quartermain, who was seated across from Fitz.

There was some awkwardness at the table. Jemma seemed unsure whether or not she should be talking to Quartermain, and Fitz stared at him unabashedly in that way he did when he was trying to figure something out. The tension was broken when the front of Fitz's sweater started moving.

Henna was seated next to Fitz and dropped her fork when she noticed. "What is that?"

"Sorry," Fitz said apologetically. "She sleeps a lot in the evening, and sometimes I forget she's in here."

"Oh, Fitz! I thought you said you were leaving her with your neighbor for the evening?" Jemma's tone of admonishment was tinged with equal parts exasperation. "You can't just bring animals into someone's home without asking!"

"No, it's fine," Alanna assured them, watching curiously as Fitz unbuttoned his cardigan to reveal Nakoma in her baby sling. "Oh, she's cute!"

Fitz smiled proudly. "Ward rescued her. Her name's Nakoma." He stroked her head for a moment until she closed her eyes again.

Grant frowned. "I didn't…"

Skye kicked him, cutting off whatever he was about to say. "No, you definitely rescued her. It would have been a hard knock life for little Nakoma without the great dark protector, right?"

"It's like Skye said. We have to take care of the world's orphans," Fitz told them. He buttoned his cardigan again, oblivious to the sudden silence in the wake of his words.

Skye tried to shrug it off, and she was grateful when Coulson spoke up.

"Well, I have to say this dinner is better than what Skye and I usually come up with. We have better luck with restaurants than we do in the kitchen."

"Since I had a few ramen Thanksgivings before we met, I was pretty easy to please anyway," Skye joked. "The dinners at St. Agnes weren't bad though. It's just different when it's a house and a family."

Jenny was staring at her. "You never had Thanksgiving in a house?"

"Jenny!" From Henna's expression, Skye guessed she would have been kicking her sister if her foot could have reached that far.

Skye knew things like this would come up sooner or later. "No, it's okay. There was a house once. The Brody family. I was nine, and I spent several months with them, including Thanksgiving and Christmas. I thought I would get to stay with them, but they took me back to St. Agnes in January. Apparently I wasn't a good fit." There was no rancor in her tone for once. It was a simple recitation of facts she'd long ago accepted.

She felt Grant's hand on her arm. "That was their loss."

Silence reigned at the table once again, so Skye changed the subject. "Who's ready to risk death by being the first taste tester of my very first pie?"

She stood up to get her pie. When she turned around, she was surprised to see Quartermain behind her. "It's just one pie. I don't really need help."

He shook his head. "It's not that. I wanted to tell you that it's not your fault the Brody family didn't keep you."

Skye frowned at him. "What?"

"You weren't available for adoption, Skye. Tim and Mary Brody asked about keeping you, but Father Thomas told them it wasn't possible."

Skye stared at him in disbelief. "Why?" Her hands were shaking, and she set the pie back on the island before she did something crazy like throw it at the man standing across from her.

"You were there for safekeeping. Adopting you out would have been too dangerous."

"So, what? You didn't want me and then you sabotaged any chance I had at being with a family?" That boiling white hot anger was back, bubbling through her veins. "Did you hate the idea of having a daughter that much?"

"Is that what you think? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of your mother's village without anyone knowing? But I was damn well not going to leave you there to die like your mother, so I did what I thought was necessary. I know Alanna told you she was murdered and her killers were looking for you. Use your head, Skye."

"Maybe you did save my life by getting me out of China," Skye shot back. "But do you know what's worse than whatever worst case scenario you imagined? Spending twenty-five years thinking I was unlovable, that no one wanted me."

"Skye…"

She held up a hand. "No." She brushed past him, ignoring everyone at the table as she went into the living room and opened the French doors to the patio. It was cold, but she welcomed the chill against her burning cheeks.

She heard the doors open and turned to see Grant. "I guess you heard all of that."

"Everyone heard it."

When he opened his arms, she hugged him tightly and let the tears fall. "I'm sorry."

"You're the last person who should be sorry here." He cupped the back of her head and stroked her hair. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but this is progress, Skye. The fact that he's even trying to explain says he cares about you. Everyone at that table cares about you."

She sniffed. "I ruined Thanksgiving."

"No, you didn't. I think it was overly optimistic to think this was going to be a sunny family reunion. They just want to know you're okay."

"I'm okay." She leaned back and took a deep breath as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "A little embarrassed, but okay."

"Hey, if you don't want to go back in there, say the word and we'll leave."

She shook her head. "No. I don't want to do that to Alanna."

"You're sure?" he asked quietly.

"I'm sure." She took his hand. "Thank you. For coming today, and for tolerating my mental health breakdowns."

His lips tilted up in amusement. "If that's the best you've got, I'll raise you a fortune teller I met in Seoul who threw herself into the street and stopped traffic every time she got upset. Her histrionics were legendary."

Skye laughed and let him lead her back into the house.

A/N: I promised this update this week. I didn't have time to edit as much as I wanted to, so let me know if you see anything I should fix. I ended up bumping drinks with Natasha and the conversation with May to the next chapter, which also includes the mission gone horribly wrong. It will also include some resolution to this awkward Thanksgiving dinner. I just realized I didn't finish answering comments from the last chapter. I'm sorry about that! I'll get back on that tomorrow. Thanks for reading!