JEMMA

Jemma ran. She didn't care that her shoes were caked with slush or that it meant taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. She ran without stopping and knocked impatiently on the door.

After a minute that dragged on for eternity, the door opened with a weary creak. Coulson stood with his phone to his ear, and looked at her with a creased brow. Her chest tightened, but he nodded for her to enter his office. With a bowed head, she stepped inside and waited as he walked back behind his desk.

"I'm sorry, I've got to cut you off there, Mike," Coulson said pleasantly. "Mind if I give you a call back in a few minutes?" He flashed his eyes up at Jemma. "Great. Alright. Say hi to the kid for me." He pressed a button on his phone, placed it on the desk, and gave her a measured look. "Well?"

She inhaled then took an anxious step forward. "Mr. Coulson, I want to apologize for missing the presentation this morning." She pressed her hands to her sides to keep from fidgeting. "Situations beyond my control interfered and I-" she stopped herself. "Well, I certainly have no excuse. This presentation was the sole purpose of my contract, and I should have been there to present to the board."

"You certainly should have," Coulson frowned.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Is there any possibility of you giving me another chance? I know the board are very busy, but the presentation is important and I am prepared to come in at any time. If we could reschedule I know I-"

Coulson held up a hand to stop her. "It's okay Miss. Simmons. We're all aware of how much effort you put into the presentation. To be honest, we were all very impressed."

"Oh!" She said, raising her eyebrows. "You were? But how-"

"Mr. Fitz stood in for you. Don't worry, it all went over very well with the board," Coulson explained. "Gonzales even seems convinced to put funding into a revamped innovations department."

"Well. That is good news…"

"I must say I was pleased to see Fitz stepping up," Coulson nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "I always had the feeling there was more to him than he was letting on."

"Yes. Very good. Glad it all worked out then."

"So. If that's all?" He tapped his desk near his phone, and Jemma shook her head quickly.

"Oh yes, sorry for interrupting sir," she turned around and grasped the door handle.

"And Miss Simmons?" He said before she could walk through the door. She turned back around and paused. "It's been great having you around the office these past few weeks. You really brought a breath of fresh air to the place. I hope to see you at the party later."

Jemma nodded, pressing the corners of her mouth into a hopefully painless smile. "Thank you, Sir." After a moment of silence, she realized she had already been dismissed, so she abruptly turned and exited the office.

FITZ

The message on his screen stared back at him, accusing him. His head was still buzzing from the stress of the entire morning. He'd acted on instinct. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, but what did he know?

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Fitz held his breath. It had to be Jemma's face that appeared around the corner. He pushed away from his desk quickly and stood to greet her. She looked so tired, but smiled when she saw him. Without stopping, she ran right around the counter and gave him a big hug. He hugged her back.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "There was a delay on the subway and I couldn't get a message out in time and-"

"It's fine, glad you're okay," Fitz waved her off.

"Okay? I'm far from okay," Jemma blanched. "I just saw Coulson and he did not seem pleased with me." Fitz dropped his eyes as she carried on. "There's still time, though. I'm sure I'll figure out some other way to get the promotion and stay in the country," her mouth twitched into an optimistic smile.

"Yeah," Fitz frowned. "That is, well, they-" Fitz furrowed his eyebrows, not sure how to say what he needed to say.

"He sounded very impressed with you though," Jemma grinned. "Maybe this'll convince them to finally give you a raise so you won't have to worry about your mum anymore."

He looked down at her, crestfallen. He opened his mouth, but no words came to his lips.

She quirked her head at him. "Fitz?"

"Leopold!" A booming voice echoed from down the hall. Fitz flinched and craned his neck around the corner. "Come give your Mother a hug now, don't be leaving me standing with a chill in this foreign land!"

Fitz gaped. "Mum?" Unable to believe what his eyes were showing him, Fitz blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"I caught an earlier flight, lad, I didn't grow two heads," his mum chortled. "Now stop gaping like a fish and come let me have a look at you."

He shot Jemma a pained expression, then stepped down the hallway towards the small woman waiting with open arms and bags strewn about her.

"You're all skin and bones, lad," she remarked, embracing him. "I thought they had a problem with obesity over here. Aren't you getting enough to eat?" She held him out at arm's length and pinched his cheek. He twisted away. "You didn't develop an eating disorder from those flashy magazines they have here, did you?" She nodded knowingly to Jemma, "I've read it's a more common thing among young men nowadays. They're just too proud to say anything about it, afraid to harm their delicate egos."

"Mum, I'm eating fine," Fitz placed his hands on his hips defensively. "How did you get here, though? When did you land?"

"Oh not even a moment to settle in and he's already going on with the questions," she raised her hands in the air. "Not to worry, son, I got in not long ago," she patted his arm and started sifting through her purse. "Found me a nice cab driver and got him to take me straight here to surprise you."

"Mum, you didn't have to do all that," Fitz rolled his eyes. "You know I booked a whole day off to come get you from the airport and show you around."

Mrs. Fitz pulled a lipstick out of her bag and started applying it with a small mirror. "And where would the surprise in that have been?"

"Yeah, but I have work today, and-" His mother closed her compact mirror with a snap, cutting him off.

"Oh hush lad. Now will you tell me who's this fine young beauty here, Leopold?" His mum turned to Jemma and placed a hand on her arm. "You haven't got a lady friend you've been hiding from me, have you? Come introduce us. I didn't raise you in a barn."

Fitz scratched the top of his head in defeat. "Ah, Mum," he gestured helplessly, "this is my co-worker Jemma." Jemma smiled at him, enjoying this all too much for his liking. She turned to his mother.

"Hello Mrs. Fitz. It's so lovely to meet you."

"Ah, an Englishwoman!" The older woman threw her hands in the air again. "I always knew he had a rebellious side to him," she swatted Fitz's arm. "It's just like that time I sent him off to Sunday school as a boy. He had on this new jumper I'd made him that he couldn't stand-"

"Mum!" Fitz yelped. "Can we not?"

"Right, lad, right," his mother simpered. "Another time perhaps." She turned her cheeky grin to Jemma, whispering loudly. "So sensitive sometimes, it's a wonder the boy can function."

Just then the phone rang, and Fitz grabbed it like a lifeline. But his face paled and he nodded into the receiver. "I mean yes, I absolutely did." He paused. "I was hoping to discuss it later next week actually-. My mum just stopped in early and-" He waited, looking between Jemma and his mother. He turned away from them and let out a long, deflated breath. "No, I completely understand. Yes. Thank You. I appreciate it." He hung up.

"Well?" His mum chirped. "Something important?"

"Ahm. No," he said, glancing at Jemma and bringing his hands absently up to his waist. "It can wait. Mum, you must be starving. It's pretty slow now so I can take you for a quick lunch and get you settled."

"I wouldn't say no to a hearty stew," Mrs. Fitz puffed up. "Will you be joining us for a quick kip to eat then, Jemma?"

"That sounds lovely, thank you though Mrs. Fitz," Jemma declined. "But I'm afraid I have some last paper work to finish up before I head out. I promised my flat-mate I'd help set up the holiday party this afternoon. Will I see you there?" She looked at Fitz hopefully.

"Well I wasn't planning on-" Fitz flinched as his mum whacked him on the shoulder with her handbag. "I mean absolutely. Yeah. We'll both be there."

JEMMA

"You know you didn't have to help out with all this," Skye said as she whisked by with a wrapped plate of hors d'oeuvres.

"No, I absolutely did," Jemma said, following with her clipboard. "Might as well get a few last brown-nosing points in while I still can, yeah?"

"I still can't believe you missed it," Skye shook her head, placing the plate down on one of the side tables and pulling the tinfoil off. "Was Coulson furious?"

"That's the terrifying thing. He was glad the presentation went well. He was just disappointed in me."

"Ugh, that's so much worse!"

"Tell me about it," Jemma shook her head. "You're sure there's nothing else you can swing on your end to give me a push for this promotion?"

Skye looked at the plate, then shifted it slightly. She sighed. "I may be HR, but I'm not that high up," Skye brushed her hands clean and moved to another table, picking up a poinsettia. "But don't worry, we'll think of something. They're not kicking you out of the country because of a stupid train delay."

"I wouldn't hold your breath," Jemma sighed.

Skye placed the big red flowers next to a wide candle holder and frowned. "Hold on, no! Give me that," she picked up the shiny object to examine it. "Is it seven blue candles or nine? I keep mixing these up."

"It's nine blue candles for Hanuka, and a total of seven red, green and purple for Kwanzaa," Jemma consulted her clip-board.

"Dammit! I got too many purple candles and not enough blue," Skye looked around the room anxiously. "Do you think people would be insulted if we just combined them?"

"Yes. I do think they might," Jemma tilted her head.

"Right. Okay. We can fix this," Skye rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles. "Hunter!" She called out. "Dig out the gold spray paint! People will be here soon!" She marched away past the Secret Santa table, narrowly missing tipping the small Christmas tree off it.

"If there's nothing else, I'm just going to go get ready then," Jemma called after to her. When she heard no protest, she grabbed her bag and headed for the toilets.

Jemma pulled her new dress on and adjusted her makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror, and couldn't help but give herself a satisfied nod. This would do. One must be at their best when attending a business function. Her mother recited that to her on numerous occasions. The saying went equally for acting proper and looking presentable. She looked more than presentable.

When she reached back to put her work clothes away, she saw the small gift box she'd brought sitting at the bottom of her pack. Tapping her finger against the wrapping, she examined it. She still wasn't sure if it was entirely appropriate for a Secret Santa gift. It was far too sentimental. But then, she reasoned, no one else at the party would quite understand why. She smiled and tucked it back into her bag for later. It required explanation. She could wait.

One of the first guests to arrive was a tall, elegant blond woman that Jemma didn't recognize. Taking a sip of her champagne for liquid courage, Jemma sidled over to continue her attempt at networking. If nothing else, perhaps a good impression at the Christmas party would garner her a full-time position, or at least an extension of her contract.

"Welcome," she said, offering her hand enthusiastically. "Jemma Simmons."

"Ah, the infamous Jemma Simmons," the woman said, shaking her hand with a firm but friendly grip. "I'm Bobbi Morse. Congratulations on your presentation earlier, by the way."

"Goodness, were you there for that?"

"I was," she smiled. "It was a shame you couldn't make it, but your partner made quite the impression," she nodded. "Gonzales was thoroughly impressed, and he doesn't impress easily."

"He's not my partner actually," Jemma explained. "Just a friend helping out."

"Really?" Bobbi tilted her head in confusion. "I thought he was a Shield employee."

"Well yes, he is," Jemma stammered, "but we worked on it together is all. As a favour. As friends…"

"Well that's a relief," Bobbie laughed. "Gonzales said the team presenting today were in the running for the new position if they impressed him. We already put the paperwork through for the job offer, so that would have been embarrassing."

Jemma froze. "Job offer?"

"For head of the innovations department," Bobbi clarified. "Offered it on the spot, as a matter of fact. That's how impressed he was."

"Oh," Jemma felt the blood drain from her face and a distinct buzzing filled her ears. "Actually, will you excuse me for a moment?" She stepped back, stumbling a little on her heels. "Just remembered something I need to take care of…"

Jemma rushed away, her vision blurring and her breath growing shallow. It all made sense. No wonder he'd been so distant earlier before his mum came. She grabbed a glass of champagne as a waiter walked by with it, and downed it all in one gulp. Then she grabbed another.

FITZ

"Will you stop fussing? I look fine," Fitz said, swatting his mum's hands away from his tie.

"There's a difference between looking fine and looking good, lad," his mother huffed, adjusting her bag under her arm. They were in the foyer of the venue, waiting for the coat check girl to bring them their tickets.

"You haven't even commented on my dress yet," his mum sighed.

"You're beautiful, mum, as always."

"Well yes, I know that," she grinned to herself. "Just nice to hear it every so often is all."

The young girl finally appeared at the counter from the back of the coat room and handed them their tickets with a snap of her gum. Mrs. Fitz dug into her wallet and placed a bill in the jar on the counter. "Here you go dear. Have a Happy Christmas!" The girl stared at her blankly, and Fitz steered his mother away to the main room. "You know, I don't think she earned that tip," whispered loudly over her shoulder. "I've a mind to go and ask for it back!"

"Mum, they've already started serving the mince tarts. You don't want to miss any of those, do you?"

"This is true," she sighed as they walked into the grand room. "My goodness, will you look at this place, Leopold? So posh!"

Fitz looked around anxiously, hands absently adjusting his tie. He had never come to one of these events before, but he had to agree with his mother. Candles shone from inside the party room, and different coloured boughs were hung from the rafters. He couldn't quite believe how glitzy it all was.

"Grab me something good from the bar then, son," his mother said, smoothing out her dress. "I'm off to find me some mistletoe."

Fitz sighed and walked through the clumps of his mingling co-workers. He was surprised at how few he really knew. Had he really been around all these people for so many years? Fitz found the lineup for the bar and stood patiently, keeping an eye out for his mother.

He found himself staring into the crowd at the back of a woman's head, and blushed furiously. To say she was well proportioned and wearing an outfit that flaunted it was putting it mildly. This was why he didn't come to these things. It was probably going to be Nettie from accounts, and then he'd never be able to look at her the same. The woman turned, glanced around the room and brought her crimson lips to her champagne glass, taking a long sip. Fitz' mouth fell open. It was Simmons.

"Next!"

The person behind him pushed Fitz forward, and he stumbled, looking up at the bartender in bewilderment.

"What'll it be?"

"Right. Sorry," Fitz recovered. "Two Scotches, one tonic soda please," he muttered, handing the man his drink vouchers.

Fitz grumbled internally. Seeing Jemma like this did not make things any easier. He trundled off with his drinks to find a table and wait for the long excruciating night to end.

Skye had just announced that they would begin the Secret Santa exchange in about twenty minutes, so people better get their presents to the table if they hadn't already, then make their way back to their seats.

Fitz took a long drink from his glass of scotch and patted the envelope in his pocket. He should really go bring it up there. He'd gone to all the trouble, anyway. He sighed and stood, making his way through the many tables in the candle light. Someone tapped his shoulder as he placed the envelope beneath a small box. He spun around.

"And there you are," Jemma said, looking at him through her eyelashes. She stood with her feet planted, swirling her glass of champagne around. God she looked amazing.

"Yeah, we made it," he said, bringing his hands to his hips. "Mum's around somewhere. Kind of lost track."

"Yeah, she looks like she's having a good time," Jemma said, nodding over to where his mum was.

"Right," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I feel kind of bad for not warning Coulson about her. She can be a bit pushy when she decides she wants something."

Jemma clicked her tongue, and Fitz quickly turned his head to look down at her.

"You look nice," Fitz said with a smile.

"Thank you. Happy to hear about your promotion," she said, downing her glass of champagne. He dropped his mouth open.

"I-I was about to tell you," he turned his body to face her. "Honestly, the words were on the tip of my tongue earlier, but mum showed up, and…"

"Fitz please," she narrowed her eyes at him. "You couldn't have asked them to reschedule?"

"I didn't get your message until it was already over," he tried to explain.

"Right. Fine," she turned and grabbed another glass of champagne as a waitress walked by. "So, are you going to take it?"

"I…" he looked perplexed. "I haven't decided yet."

She gaped at him. Then turned to walk away.

"I didn't mean that. Jemma, wait!"

She stopped mid-stride and he nearly walked into her. "I can't believe that you're snaking this out from under me," she turned, stabbing a finger into his chest. "After everything we worked on together. I should have known no two people could get that close that fast without one of them having an ulterior motive." She took another drink.

"There was no ulterior motive, Jemma," he said through gritted teeth, aware of people starting to stare. "I just tried to cover for you, and yeah, you're right, I should've got them to reschedule, but I panicked!" He held his hands out. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Clearly you were wrong," she said, her voice growing shrill.

"Yeah, obviously I can see that now, but will you look at it from my perspective?"

"Your perspective?" She laughed darkly. "Your perspective has you coasting along in your mediocre job for years while mummy looks after you," she said, raising her voice. "Your perspective has you taking advantage of the easiest route to a promotion as soon as it comes along, skipping months of preparation for it. Your perspective doesn't have you getting kicked out of the country!"

"Well I'm sorry that you think I'm such a disappointment to society, Jemma," Fitz countered, his temper rising. "But you're not quite the pathetic victim you fancy yourself to be. You could have avoided this whole mess if you'd been invested in the presentation to begin with," he threw his hands up. "For god's sake, it's 2015! Who doesn't keep backups?"

"And what kind of IT person loses an entire hard-drive, moments after it's given to him?" She stepped closer, tilting her chin up defiantly.

"You decided to get off the train early, I warned you not to!"

"You're right," she spat. "It's entirely my own fault. I should never have accepted your help with any of this. I should have stuck to my initial plan and done it all on my own. I can't believe I ever thought there might be something between us. It was a complete mistake letting you spend the night!"

Someone suddenly cleared their throat, and the two stopped, looking up angrily. Skye, Coulson and Fitz' mother stared back, mouths open. Skye glanced around awkwardly, and it was only then that they realized the entire party had turned to stare at their shouting match.

Jemma flushed crimson and put a hand on her forehead, looking down. Fitz turned and faced the audience. "That's not what it- I mean, nothing- Oh lord…"

Jemma rolled her eyes, then turned and scurried down the hall.

Fitz looked around the room again, then ducked through the crowd. "Jemma!" He raced after her.

He found her outside the coat room, looking down at her phone and waiting outside the little window. She saw him march towards her, and turned away in a huff to ring the bell for service.

He got closer and she tapped her foot.

"Jemma."

"These bloody coat room people," she snapped. "They're never around when you need them!" She grumbled and rang the bell again, repeatedly, craning her neck into the window. "Hello? You have a customer here! Bloody waste of a dollar."

"Jemma, will you just- Oh hell, now what are you doing?"

She had hoisted herself onto the ledge of the counter and swung her legs round.

"I," she huffed, "Am going home, Leopold."

"But you can't-" he started. She glared at him. "I mean, don't you think you've had a little too much… I mean, you shouldn't drive in the state you're in."

She glared again and hopped down to the other side. "Which is why I sent for a taxi," she said, finishing her champagne and placing her glass on the counter next to her phone. She turned on her heel and started rummaging through the coats. "Why are these all the bloody same? Honestly, do the shops only sell black coats at winter?" She started pulling coats off their racks and tossing them in a pile as a process of elimination.

He rolled his eyes and hopped in after her.

"I don't need your help," she hissed as he grabbed her coat from one of the racks and held it out to her.

"Jemma, will you stop? I have something to say."

She stood her ground and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine then. Before I'm deported, say your pointless thing so you can take my job with a clear conscience."

He clenched his jaw, then opened his mouth.

"I am sorry that this sucks for you. I really am," he said. "But I'm not sorry that I got to know you. I'm not sorry that I spent the night. I thought there might've been something between us too, but…" He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I can't anymore, Jemma. I worked day and night to fix that laptop. I went out of my way to make sure your presentation went off without a hitch, despite all the shit that got in the way. And if after all of that-" He turned away and his expression hardened. "If you honestly think I'm the sort of person that would sabotage your career for personal gain, then maybe you're not the person I thought you were either."

He let out a long breath and dropped his hands to his hips, waiting for her to respond. Jemma glared up at him, then took a step forward.

Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him in and pressed her lips to his angrily. He didn't have a moment to think what was happening before her tongue thrust its way into his mouth. He immediately grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer. She nipped at his bottom lip, and he stumbled forwards, pushing her into the wall of coats. He clutched the side of her face and kissed her hungrily. She pushed back against him and started fumbling at the buttons on his trousers. He grabbed her wrist to stop her and brought it over her head, pinning it against the wall. She looked back at him, eye blazing, chest heaving.

"Go on," she breathed. "You want to."

He looked down at her, and she lifted her leg against his, wrapping it around him, pushing her hips against him. She leaned forward and brushed her nose along the side of his face.

He gulped and held his eyes tightly closed as she pressed hot kisses into his temple, licking out with her tongue and snaking her fingers through his hair. She had moved down to his jawline before he finally managed to get hold of himself.

He pulled his face away and looked her in straight the eye. "Not like this." It took all his strength to push away and leave her standing there.

She stood against the wall for a few minutes, staring at him in confusion. He looked back, a crease forming in his brow as he panted and tried to think of something else to say. Then, naturally, her phone buzzed.

They both blinked, taking a moment to realize what the noise was. She then stepped quietly past him towards the counter and looked at her phone. "Taxi's here," she said softly.

He nodded, then turned and picked up her coat, holding it out for her.

She looked down again, and opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then thought better of it. She brushed her hands over her forehead, then straightened her dress. She grabbed her coat from him without making eye contact and slipped quickly away. He didn't turn back around until he was sure she was gone. Then he took a deep breath, leaned against the wall and sunk down to the floor.