JEMMA

"Hi Mum, Hi Dad," Jemma croaked, managing to smile into the camera on her laptop.

"How is America, Jemma darling?" Her mother's face craned into the frame. "You look terrible!"

Jemma pressed her lips together and glanced over to the small image of herself at the corner of her screen. Her mother wasn't wrong. Her hair was ratted and even she could see the bags under her eyes. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, well I've got a bit of a flu unfortunately."

"Be sure to take your Zinc tablets, and get lots of rest, darling," her mum said with a sympathetic look. "You don't need me to ship over any of my home remedies, do you?"

"No that's fine, I'm sure it will clear up in no time," Jemma deflected. "Your presents finally arrived today."

"Better late than never anyways," her dad huffed, taking up most of the screen. "Bloody post. It's always the same this time of year. At least they didn't lose things this time."

Jemma smiled, her heart tugging as she realized how much she missed them sometimes. She really was terribly far away. "Thanks for the book Dad. And Mum, the jumper is really lovely."

"Glad to hear you like it love. How's the job search coming along?"

"Fine," she glanced away. "I've got a few leads-"

"Should we be clearing out your old room? You know that Visa is almost up and you don't want to be arrested as an illegal immigrant in America of all places. If you can't find something by the end of the year, we'll just go ahead and book your ticket if you like."

"I, well-"

"I had your room converted already, JemJem, but you won't mind the new carpets I'm sure," her Dad continued, leaning into the microphone. "The new poker motif is very stylish these days I hear. We can change it back to horses though if you'd rather."

"That's fine, Dad. I-I'll let you know as soon as I hear," she said quietly.

"What was that dear? John look, she's frozen again. Jemma? Jemma? Can you hear us?"

"Mum?"

"Oh there you are, we can hear you at least. But the picture's still not working right. Did you put your arm on the thing again, John?"

"I did not, woman."

"No, you did, the- what do you call these things? John, will you just do as I ask and move your arm?"

Jemma sighed as her parents nudged at each other and tapped at the computer screen. It was moments like these that reminded her why she was putting so much effort into her career. "Actually Mum, I'd really better get going now-"

"Right dear. You go rest up," her mother nodded. "Don't mind us. Give us a proper call when you're feeling better, yeah?"

"Absolutely. Bye Mum, bye Dad."

Jemma shut her laptop and leaned forward on the couch, resting her head in her hands.

"The flu?" Skye said dryly. "Now you're lying to your parents?"

"24 Hour flu anyways," Jemma said, picking up her mug of eggnog and pulling her box of chocolates back into her lap. The living room was littered with empty tissue boxes and candy wrappers. She had remained in her pajamas for almost an entire week.

"I think that only counts if it's been 24 hours, Jem, not a few days."

Jemma shrugged and bit into what turned out to be a caramel nougat. "Well I do feel rotten either way, so it wasn't a complete lie. Despite the greeting, Skye, not everyone has to have a Merry Christmas. Just let me grovel in peace."

Skye sighed. "I did that. But now you're starting to get a smell, and I'm embarrassed to have people over." She pushed a pile of tissues and wrappers to the floor to carve out a seat next to her roommate. "Jemma, you have to at least get up off this couch."

"Says who?"

"Says me! And the calendar," Skye gestured. "You have work tomorrow, or did you forget?"

Jemma groaned and threw the blanket over her face. "I'm not going," she cried. "Not after the way I behaved!"

"Okay, I admit the party was bad. But Jemma, no one will remember," Skye said, pulling the blanket back down. "It's a holiday party. Things like that happen every year. It's pretty much required."

"Not with me, though. Not when I had a promotion and I botched it and made a fool of myself and have to run crying back to mummy and daddy!" Jemma sobbed. "My life's a wreck, Skye! How did this happen?"

Skye sighed and pulled her friend into her arm, rubbing her shoulder to soothe her. "Look. Things always seem really terrible until they're not. You just haven't reached the 'not' part yet."

"Is that supposed to be encouraging?" Jemma muttered.

"It's supposed to get you off your ass and into the shower!" Skye pushed her friend away, holding back a smile. Jemma pouted and pulled the blanket up over her head again and curled into a ball. Skye stood and placed her hands on her hips. "If you really feel that crappy, you have to face the music and actually do something about it. That's what you've always told me." Jemma bobbed her head out of the blanket long enough to stick her tongue out at Skye.

"Fine," she threw her hands in the air in defeat. "Be a child. You still have to go to work tomorrow."

"Tell them I'm sick," Jemma moaned pathetically. She heard a light smack as Skye placed something on the table a little too forcefully.

"Whatever, you're an adult and can make your own decisions," she grumbled. "But when you're ready to come out of there, I've left something here that you should at least look at. You do what you want with it."

"What is it?" Jemma sniffed.

"Something to help you start facing the music," Skye said, her voice growing more distant as she walked away. "Full disclosure, I may have rigged Secret Santa. Just a little. Out of love."

Jemma waited until Skye's footsteps had faded away up the stairs to her bedroom. She then gingerly pulled her head out from beneath the blanket and stared at the small envelope on the table. Her name was written on the front in a familiar scrawl. She glared at it as she picked up her mug and took a sip of egg nog. She decided to ignore it, and instead turned on the television. But the envelope continued to stare back at her.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. A gold necklace tumbled out into her hands. The pendant was spun into a delicate anatomically correct heart. The note inside read:

"May your holidays and New Year be full of heart-stopping moments. Love from Your Secret Santa."

It was so simple. Nothing special, yet absolutely the most precious thing she had held. Jemma felt her eyes well up with tears, and she collapsed sideways onto the couch, clutching a pillow to her chest.

FITZ

"Will you fetch me my bra from the radiator, son?" Fitz's mum poked her head into his bedroom, and he jolted up from his computer screen.

"Mum! Can you not get it yourself? I'm busy!" He stormed over to the doorway.

"Sure, don't mind me," she turned, throwing her hands in the air. "Don't want to be interrupting whatever it is you're doing there. Just packing up for home is all."

"Okay, great," he called after her sarcastically and closed the door with a bang. It was like he was a teenager again. While it was nice having his mother around, he would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye the next day.

Fitz sat back at his desk and opened the window on his computer again. He'd written and re-written the email almost a hundred times over the past few days. Nothing sounded quite right. He wanted to apologize, but every time he went to type it out, he got angry again. He had nothing to apologize for! Well maybe a few things, but why did he have to be the one to start it? He slammed the computer closed and walked away, pacing.

The door creaked open again. "Everything okay in here? I heard a bang."

"Mum!" He cried out, spinning around angrily.

She gave him a look that made him immediately sit down on the bed. He folded over and buried his head in his hands.

"Son, I'm worried about you," his mum said, walking over and sitting next to him. "You haven't seemed like yourself for the past few days."

"It's nothing, mum. I'm fine."

She rubbed his back gently, then put a hand under his chin and turned his head so he was looking at her. "It's nothing to do with that Jemma girl you were having a row with at the party, does it?"

He rolled his eyes and brushed her hand away. "Mum…"

"What? I'm not supposed to have ears now?" She bristled. "It's not like no one heard, the way you two were going at each other."

Fitz winced and rubbed his eyes with one of his hands.

"Now, I've kept quiet long enough about it, but your moping is doing no one any good," His mum continued. "Have you given her a call?"

"No, Mum, I haven't called her," Fitz groaned. "There's nothing to do, so just leave it, okay?"

"Absolutely not. Now if you want my opinion," she rested a hand on his arm.

"I don't-"

She glared at him and continued anyway. "You've got a good heart, and so does she. So it will sort itself out in the wash," she said simply. "To be honest, I'd have less respect for the girl if she hadn't blown up at you like that, the way you behaved."

"I was only trying to help out!"

"It doesn't matter your intentions, lad," his mother tipped her head. "You don't mess with a woman's career. That's just the end of it."

"But that wasn't what I was doing! At least I didn't think it was. I was just-" Fitz clenched his fists together and took a deep calming breath.

"You care for her don't you?" Fitz faced his mother, not sure what to say. "No need to answer, son, I can see it in your eyes," she patted his leg. "I saw it straight away. You look at that girl like she's all the stars in the universe," she smiled. "It's actually quite something."

Fitz looked down at his feet and let out a long sigh. "It doesn't matter anyways. She doesn't feel the same way."

"And how do you know? Have you asked her?"

"It's not worth it. I've already messed it all up."

"You know," Mrs. Fitz stood slowly. "In my many years of experience, I've always found that if the person's worth it, they'll stick through pretty much anything," she nodded. "Thick, thin, no matter what life throws at you, they'll be by your side to at least tie your shoes. And that goes both ways, son."

Fitz looked at her, and then his hands, pressing his mouth into a thin smile.

"Now," she patted his arm. "Why don't you finish up whatever it was you were doing in here and come have a nice dinner with your mother? I'll even take you to go see that new Space War film you've been on about. How does that sound?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "That sounds nice actually." She walked to the doorway, and he suddenly stood. "Mum?"

"Yes Leopold?"

He walked over to her and gave his mother a long hug. "Thanks. It was great having you here for Christmas."

"Go on and finish up then," his mother smiled, brushing away a damp spot at the corner of her eye. "We've got a busy day tomorrow if you're going to get me to the airport before the New Year."

Fitz grinned as his mother closed the door quietly behind her. He walked back over to his desk and opened the laptop. The email stared back at him. Fitz sighed, then hit delete.

JEMMA

"It's a little creepy how dead the train gets between the Christmas and New Year," Skye noted.

"Mmhmm," Jemma winced, shielding her eyes from the bright lights.

"It's almost like a zombie apocalypse happened. Or a plague or something. It sucks that we have to come in at all, but I guess them's the breaks when you're at the bottom of the totem pole," Skye said cheerfully. Too cheerfully. "Jemma, you sure you're okay to go in? You still look like a wreck."

"I feel awful, believe me," Jemma took a sip of the gloriously strong coffee from her travel mug. "But like you said, I must face the music at some point. I might as well try to smooth things over and at the very least go out on a high note."

"That's the spirit," Skye nudged her shoulder. "You don't think we'll run into…?"

"No," she said quickly. She pasted a smile on her face. "He took this week off, so no need to worry about that."

After a simple lunch at her desk, Jemma decided it was time to replenish her travel mug at the coffee cart. She'd been avoiding it, but the throbbing in her head was very difficult to argue with.

Just as she was pouring the cream, a voice just behind her shoulder made her jump. "Miss. Simmons, a word in my office." It was May, appearing from thin air apparently.

Jemma centered herself and nodded, attempting her best and most pleasant smile. She closed the lid on her travel mug, took a deep breath and followed the older woman.

Coulson and May were standing in the office waiting for her. Coulson spoke first, barely waiting a beat after May closed the door behind Jemma.

"We need to have a conversation about what happened at the party before the break."

Jemma knew this was coming, but she couldn't help but feel the heat creep suddenly up her neck. "I want to sincerely apologize for what happened," she said, holding her fists tightly by her side to keep from shaking. "I know I made a disgrace of myself, and there's no excuse for my behavior, but if there's anything that I can-"

Coulson waved his hand to stop her. "Trust me, there was a bigger scene last year with Skye and Raina. Kind of par for the course when you agree to an open bar for these things."

"Oh. I suppose," Jemma said, slowly tilting her head in confusion. "Then why-?"

"I received a phone call this morning," Coulson explained. "It was from Mr. Fitz, turning down the new head of innovations position. Just like that." Coulson looked at her carefully. "Did you know anything about that?"

"No, sir. I'm afraid I didn't know," Jemma pressed her lips into a thin line.

Coulson nodded and crossed his hands over his chest. "Because at the party it seemed like there was a bit of animosity between you two," he went on, "and perhaps that's what made him change his mind."

"Mr. Fitz is able to make his own decisions, I'm sure," Jemma said. "Business is business."

Coulson sighed. "I was hoping it was just a small spat. I figured if anyone could convince Fitz to reconsider it would be you."

Jemma pursed her lips, staring straight ahead.

"Well, Gonzales is not going to be happy when I tell him. He was mostly sold on this whole scheme if you two came as a package deal."

"I'm sorry?" Jemma's mouth fell open involuntarily.

"FitzSimmons was the term I think he used," Coulson grinned. "Not that he wasn't impressed with your work on its own, but it was clear to everyone that the presentation wouldn't have been half what it was without both of you working together on it," he explained.

"Together?"

"Mmhmm… Which reminds me that unless you plan on turning us down too, we'll need your contract back soon."

Jemma stared at him, mouth gaping. "Contract?"

Coulson looked between May and Jemma. "What am I missing?"

"I didn't receive a contract, Sir."

"Ah. Well," Coulson stammered. "That probably explains a lot." He looked down at the papers on his desk. "It must have got lost in the shuffle before the holiday…" May rolled her eyes and picked up a piece of paper at the top of one of the many piles. "Right. Yep, there it is," Coulson nodded. "Our most sincere apologies for not being more organized. Here you are."

Jemma looked down at the document. It was her name. Offering her a top position at the company. It was the cushy, stable job she'd been searching for since graduation. It even required use of her background in bio-chem. She was lost for words.

Coulson smiled, then walked around his desk to hand an identical piece of paper over to May. "You'll have to get your team together, Melinda. Looks like we'll need to make a job posting to fill Fitz's spot."

"Hold on a moment," Jemma said quickly. "I think- I think I might be able to talk to Fitz," she looked from Coulson to May hopefully, "see if I can't try one last time before you have to go to all the trouble of finding a replacement. Worth a shot at least, don't you think?"

"That'd be great if you could," Coulson nodded. "We need this put to bed before Gonzales jumps down my throat."

Jemma nodded. She didn't wait to be dismissed before she turned and walked out of the office. She stopped only to grab her coat, then went straight home. She just needed one thing first.

FITZ

Fitz walked down the street from his car, enjoying the crisp night air. He and his mum had celebrated New Years together on Scottish time that afternoon. He then managed to get her to the airport soon after with only a minimal amount of fuss and tears, all things considered. He was tired and ready to just curl up in his quiet empty apartment with no one to interrupt his thoughts. He opened the gate to his building and walked through the fresh snow that blanketed the courtyard. A slight movement caught his eye, and he turned to see someone leaning against the stone fountain, waiting.

"I've been sitting here trying to work up the courage to knock on your door," Jemma said, fidgeting with a small box in her gloved hands.

"How long have you been here?" He asked. "You look frozen, come on inside."

"No, that's okay. I'm fine," she smiled. Her breath escaped her lips in wisp of cold air. "I met with Coulson and May today," she said.

Fitz shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. "I ah- I turned down the position."

"I know," she nodded. "Actually, that's why I'm here."

"Did they offer it to you instead then?"

Jemma shrugged. "Sort of."

"Good. You deserve it."

"But the thing is," Jemma took a deep breath. "It was meant to be a package deal. They wanted us both and forgot to give my papers to me until today." She said, fidgeting with the wrapping on the box.

"Oh," he said. He didn't know what else to say.

She smiled thinly and continued. "They said we worked too well as a team. That it wasn't the same if they got one without the other. They want you and me. Both of us," she said. "Together." She looked up at him then. "So. What do you think?"

Fitz drew his brows together, and after a few long moments he had to look away. "You know what I think." He scuffed his boot in the snow. "Perhaps," he took a deep breath in. "Perhaps it's not such a good idea for us to be working together. Mum's right, I should be applying myself more. I've spent the last few days updating my résumé, so I'll see if anything better shakes out."

"But this is your dream job," Jemma said, taking a step towards him. "You'll get to be building and brainstorming, using your degree. Actually making a difference in the world like you wanted."

Fitz shrugged. "Sometimes the things we want aren't always the right choice though, yeah?" He tried not to look at her, but he didn't quite miss how her face fell. "You wouldn't want to be working with me anyways. We'd just start arguing again and blow up at each other eventually."

"But I do want that," Jemma whispered. He looked up at her, but her face was closed off and distant. He let the silence sit for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she looked back at him. "Before, you said you were done trying, and I-" she shook her head. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for how I acted. I probably wouldn't have got this offer at all if it hadn't been for you helping, so, at the very least..." she stepped forward and handed him the box. "Thank you."

He grasped it in his hands, noting that she lingered slightly before slipping her hands back into her coat pockets. "Yeah, thanks," he studied her face. "Should I open this now then?"

"Up to you," she shrugged. "I already got yours," she pointed to the necklace hiding under her scarf. "It was lovely. Really. Thank you."

He nodded, then slowly unwrapped the box, letting the wrapping fall to the snow. It was a snow globe with a blue box inside and a picture frame on the front.

"The Tardis," he grinned.

"It's a bit silly," she waved off. "I just thought – you can use it to keep track of your Christmases. See where you're at each year." Her smile was strained. "I know you'll do great wherever you land." She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he could react, she had turned and begun walking away through the snow.

He looked down at the snow globe in his hands, and then back at her. Large puffy white flakes fell down through the air, already beginning to erase her footprints. He took a deep breath.

"Jemma, wait."

She didn't quite hear him, or else decided not to listen, so he jogged after her. When he put a hand on her shoulder, she finally stopped and turned to face him.

"Maybe… maybe this whole Innovations thing isn't so bad," he said. "I could give it a try maybe. If it's supposed to be a package deal and all."

"Really?" She grinned, trying not to look too hopeful.

"Well, Head of Innovations does have a pretty nice ring to it," he shrugged with a half-smile. "Even if it is a shared position."

"Are-Are you sure you don't mind working with me?" She looked so anxious, it twisted his heart.

"Jemma-"

"-Because I acted terribly before," she said quickly. "And I know my temper can flare up from time to time, and people tell me that I can be far too structured-"

"Jemma, stop I'm sure-"

"-And even though you have absolutely every right to be furious with me, and I know you'll probably never want to be proper friends again, you should at least know-"

"Jemma!" Fitz said. "For crying out loud, you were trying to talk me into this a second ago!"

"The thing is. Fitz. I think I'm in love with you." She finally managed with a shrug. "That's all. Thought you should know. Before accepting the offer and all."

"Oh," Fitz said, genuinely surprised. "That's…"

Jemma smiled softly. "Anyways. I hope to see you in the office, whatever you end up deciding. Sorry for ambushing you like this," she turned away. "Happy New Year."

He put his hand on her shoulder again and pulled her back towards him. He smiled down at her like she was all the stars in the universe, and he pressed his lips to hers.

When he finally broke away, he whispered against her cheek. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you too," he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Oh?"

"At least I think so," he grinned. "We may have to run a few tests… you know - Together."

Beyond the courtyard, fireworks burst through the night air and crowds cheered. Fitz opened the door to his apartment and led Jemma inside.

Beneath the city, the subway doors chimed closed. The train made its way down the tunnel to where the crowds were waiting to head home from their festivities. One year had made way for a new one. One with its own adventures, its own mistakes to be made, its own problems to solve. It was an amazing thing, having all that time to look forward to. It was all the more amazing having someone to share it with. Family, friends, perhaps something more, whatever name it's given, when the weather gets cold and the nights get long, it's just nice to be together.

END