The Girl in the Driver's Seat

-o-

There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a single heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. - Sarah Dessen

-o-

"How're you plannin' on gettin' a taxi? Buses are done for the night, trains are shut down, and I couldn't even hire a car." He swung his duffel higher up on his shoulder and moved to roll her suitcase as she dug around in her purse.

"Oh, I'm not hiring a car…" Jemma trailed off as she unzipped a compartment with a ticket inside. "Ha!" She flashed the ticket in his face as they walked down the sidewalk. "My father left a car for me in a private garage so no one would have to pick me up." She tilted her head to the side and moved to grab her luggage from him, and Fitz grinned as a brief tug-of-war ensued over who would get to roll it along. "Of course," she remarked as she gave up and let him pull it behind him, "that was nearly a week ago. Hopefully it starts." She must have felt Fitz's gaze on her because she turned to look at him with a wide smile. "It will start."

"Whatever you say," he agreed, content to follow her the few city blocks to the private garage. He wasn't going to complain about spending a little extra time with a gorgeous woman on Christmas Eve, even if they ended up stranded somewhere. He didn't think that would be so bad.

When they arrived at the garage, Jemma passed the ticket over to an attendant who was busy spending his holiday doing Sudoku puzzles in a kid's book. Fitz glanced down at the boxes when the man set the book aside and mentally filled in the squares. It took him seconds to complete the "easy" box on the page and he was about half way through the "medium" when the man passed keys over with a "Happy Holidays Mr. and Mrs. Simmons."

Fitz was fairly certain every centimeter of visible skin on his body turned bright red at that. He'd never been mistaken for someone's husband before. Jemma just smiled and said, "Thank you. You as well."

The attendant then pointed above their heads with a waggle of his eyebrows. Jemma looked up first, giving an appreciative laugh at what she found.

"What?" Fitz craned his neck to look at the top of the booth, finding a green plastic sprig of leaves with little white flowers he was sure was meant to resemble mistletoe. "Oh." His fingers let go of the handle on her suitcase and he stood very still, only his neck moving to better view Jemma.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered as she took the two steps forward to mold them together, pressing a gentle kiss to his lower lip, barely giving him enough time to respond. Giving him a cheeky grin, she twirled the car keys in her hand and spun on her heel to locate the spot for the car.

"Yeah."

Fitz trailed along behind her with their luggage as she searched for the correct number where her car would be. They followed the numbers up and up until she reached the next level.

"I take it you're good with numbers," she asked conversationally while they walked.

"How-"

"You were staring at the Sudoku page. And you've been giving me statistics since we met."

She came to a sudden stop and he almost plowed into her, but halted himself just in time, taking a step back as she turned around to gesture they that they had reached the car.

"I'm pretty good with numbers, yeah." Scratching the back of his neck nervously, Fitz lowered the handle of her suitcase with his other hand. "I'm an engineer."

"Really?" She popped open the boot and regarded him with a new appreciation.

Fitz thought it was appreciation, anyway. She might not have been giving him the same appraising look when he struggled to lift her suitcase into the car though. He wouldn't know since he refused to meet her eyes as he slung his own bag in beside hers, his breathing coming faster with the effort.

"Yeah."

"What kind of things do you work on? Do you have experience with virtual environments?"

"What, like video games?"

"Yes, exactly."

Fitz raised his eyebrows while she unlocked the car and climbed into the driver's seat.

"I've played plenty o' video games," he told her as he opened the door and slipped into the other side. "Why?"

"Skye-"

"The texter."

"Yes." Jemma gave a slight laugh as she buckled herself in and put the key in the ignition. "Anyway, she designs video games for a tech group. She's been having a problem getting this one area to work on the map she's been making."

"Are you offerin' me a job for your friend?" He asked with a laugh of his own.

Jemma licked her lips and shrugged as she pulled the car out of the space. "How much of the Sudoku puzzle did you solve in the 90 seconds we were waiting?" She challenged him. When he didn't answer, she told him, "you might find it fun." As they drove, she explained that she worked in viral research, and that Skye had actually hired her on as a consultant to help develop the story for her new zombie virus video game.

Fitz watched Jemma as she explained the fictional zombie virus while she drove, her hands every so often animatedly leaving the steering wheel. He liked watching the lights from the traffic signals play over her face, the way she laughed when she made a mistake, or her nose scrunched up when she wasn't sure she was explaining something well enough. They moved from the conceptual design of the video game on to discussions of an actual zombie apocalypse during the trip. Between the two of them, Fitz was fairly certain they could survive.

"How's your aim?" Jemma teased at one point. "Think you'd be a good enough shot?"

Fitz pretended to think about it, deciding not to point out that he had a background in physics, and the principles on which guns operated were well within his wheelhouse. "I'm not bad… with a water pistol."

When she pulled onto a quiet neighborhood street and ran a hand through her hair, he realized they were almost there.

"So…" he began, but stopped to draw in a breath, not entirely sure what to say next.

"So." Jemma nodded her head, slowing the car to a crawl to prolong the last few moments of the drive. "There are a couple of things you should probably know."

"Like what?"

"For starters, I told my parents my boyfriend couldn't make it for the holidays because he was spending them with his family." She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she sped through her statement.

"Ah, so there's a boyfriend." Fitz mumbled the words, but he couldn't help but think he should have known someone like Jemma would never actually be single.

"No, there's no boyfriend," she hurried to explain. "I just got tired of the questions about why I was still single." She pursed her lips together. "But this is - I mean you are -" She gave a frustrated huff before braking and turning to him. "I enjoyed our date. So far." When she started to smile, he was fairly certain it was the most shy he'd seen her in their few interactions so far. "I just wanted you to be prepared that they might think we've known each other longer."

"How long?"

She didn't answer him.

"Jemma? How long?" He plucked at the sleeve of her sweater with one finger to get a response from her.

"I think I started lying to them four months ago? So at least that long?" She gave the little nose scrunch he'd come to love in the last 24 hours.

"Okay. Tha's fine."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, then." Sighing in relief, she put her foot back on the gas pedal and began reciting a list of instructions for him for the night about her family. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard someone talk so quickly as she explained who liked which sport teams, what her father did for a living, which of her nieces still believed in Santa Claus, and that he should just avoid talking to her brother as much as possible. "He's… difficult. Likes to pick at people."

"Pick how?" Fitz was getting more nervous by the second as she parked on the side of the street and cut the engine.

"He's… well… he's the oldest. Used to giving orders, I guess?"

"Ah. Okay."

"Ready?" She asked him, poised to jump out of the car, but clearly not going anywhere without him.

"Ready," he affirmed, though his hand shaking slightly as he opened the door to the car made it clear that he wasn't.

"You'll be fine, Fitz." When he moved to get their bags from the boot, she waved a gloved hand. "Don't worry about it. We'll get them later, after dinner."

"What about the teapot?"

Jemma groaned as they both shut the doors to the car.

"You forgot it, didn't you?" Fitz asked in amusement.

"Maybe they'll have forgotten about it to. After all, I brought you instead," she remarked, going for cheeky, but the way she chewed on her lip and brought her hands up to her neck after told him she was nervous.

He was never going to forget that one of their first conversations was about her having to bring a teapot home for Christmas and she managed to bring him home instead. He reached forward when they were standing next to one another on the walk-up and pulled her hands from her neck.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

When he didn't let go of one of her hands right away, she linked their fingers together and took a step closer to him. "I hope they don't scare you off."

"Impossible." Fitz shook his head. At this point, nothing short of her family being a colony of serial killers would scare him off… probably.

She pulled him along up the walk, the two of them slipping and sliding on the iced over cement, laughing by the time they got to the door. Jemma grinned mischievously when they stopped, pointing above them with her free hand. The one occupied in his tightened around his fingers as she leaned forward.

"More mistletoe?" Fitz asked with a smirk without giving in to the impulse to check.

"It's everywhere. It's an epidemic," she deadpanned.

"Well, I, for one, don't want the bad luck you get if you don't follow tradition."

"You believe in luck?" she asked, moving ever closer to him. "I wouldn't think someone with a scientific background would put much stock in luck."

"You found me, didn't you?" Fitz knew it was cheesy, but it was the truth, and he was rewarded for his words with one of the biggest smiles he'd seen from Jemma so far, just before she pressed up on her toes, grabbed his shoulder for leverage, and met his lips with her own. She wasn't as gentle as she had been at the garage, like she was trying to prove a point this time, that the kiss was more than simply a holiday tradition. Fitz's hand moved to her waist and pulled her as close as he could, his own mouth moving against hers, but just as she parted her lips, the door opened behind them and startled them both. They slid across the stoop, having to hold on to one another for support as they lost their footing.

"Mum!" Jemma exclaimed once they'd both righted themselves, managing to not fall over completely. "Merry Christmas!"

Considering Fitz had only known Jemma for about 24 hours, he didn't really have any idea of what to expect from her family beyond what she'd told him during their very brief half-of-a-date so far. As she introduced him to her parents, her siblings, her nieces and nephews, and all the rest that were crammed into the house for the evening festivities, the first thing that popped into his head was that he didn't realize that families could be so big. He also didn't realize that they could be so nice when meeting an unexpected guest on a major holiday. And he didn't realize that being festive could actually be fun.

There were lots of claps on the shoulders, firm handshakes, and even a few nearly bone crushing hugs that meant he had to let go of Jemma's hand. Once their coats and gloves were deposited in a spare room downstairs, there were drinks in a parlor before dinner with a few snide comments from her brother that Fitz pointedly ignored. Jemma's cheeks were almost as red as her father's after her second very large glass of wine. Considering all of the beer they'd consumed earlier, he thought the wine was probably going straight to her head. Fitz, feeling bold after the evening they'd already spent together, slipped an arm around her waist while she was talking to her big sister, and he was rewarded for his move by Jemma scooting them a little closer to the entryway when the conversation was over.

She drained the last of her glass of wine before indicating he should look up.

"It really is an epidemic," he remarked before leaning down and giving her one quick kiss so her niece, who was skipping over to them, didn't make a fuss.

Jemma hummed and gave him a look that seemed to indicate she was expecting slightly more than what she got, but he just grinned and nodded his head as the little girl explained that dinner was ready.

Two hours later and Fitz found himself sipping tea in an exceptionally large armchair and trying to reassure the same little girl that Santa would find her, no matter where she was for Christmas.

"But how do you know?" She questioned from where she was sitting on the floor, her bright red skirt fanned out around her while she watched the family cat creeping ever closer to her.

"Fitz is very smart," Jemma told her, trying to save him. At least, that's what he thought she was doing until she added in a whisper while squeezing in next to him in the chair, "He happens to be the engineer who helped make Santa's new sleigh go faster."

"Jemma!" Fitz protested with a laugh. But when he saw the delight on the little girl's face, he added, "tha's supposed to be a secret."

Jemma shrugged and stole the cup of tea from his hands to take a sip for herself. She kept it in her lap, her knees curling up into the seat to press against his thighs as the little girl peppered him with questions about presents and elves and reindeer.

"Does that mean you got to play with the reindeer?"

Fitz bit back a groan. "Reindeer aren't as nice as you migh' think. You know wha' would be better? Flyin' monkeys. They'd even be able to help with the gifts."

Jemma snorted into the cup of tea when her niece's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"Did you see them fly?"

"Uh, no. 'fraid not. Santa kept the magic all bottled up." Fitz nodded earnestly, hoping he wasn't going to be responsible for this girl ending up in therapy one day. Jemma finally took pity on him though before his storytelling got too far out of his own control.

"I think Gran has some cocoa in the kitchen if you'd like," Jemma told her niece, her eyes shining. "With peppermint sticks."

Fitz gave something of a sigh of relief when the little girl scampered off, intent on finding her next sugar high. He leaned back in the chair and ran one hand over his face while Jemma laughed.

"Enjoyed that, did you?"

"Oh, very much," Jemma agreed. "We'll have to think up some modifications to Santa's sleigh to tell her about next year when you give it a tune up."

"Next year?" Fitz echoed, his hands dropping to his lap to run over his jeans.

She shrugged. "Maybe. If you play your cards right." She passed his mug of tea over to him.

"Thank you."

"It's your tea."

"I didn't mean for the tea," Fitz admitted, playing with the handle of the mug while he stared down at it. "For this."

"You're having a good Christmas then?" Fitz nodded at her question and was ready to say more, but she went on to say, "That's good. Because usually I'm dreadfully bored. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. But it's always just questions about why I'm not dating anyone, if I've met anyone, why I don't bring someone home…" She trailed off.

"My mum's the same," Fitz told her. "I only get to see her once a year though, so I let her rib me for not givin' her grand kids yet." He laughed. "Glad I could help you avoid it… at least until they start askin' when the wedding is."

"You know," Jemma whispered in his ear as she scooted as close as possible in the big armchair, "I could repay the favor tomorrow."

"What?" Fitz was preoccupied with watching Jemma's niece try to catch the family cat again, her cup of cocoa already forgotten.

"Well, I've got the car. It will obviously take a little longer, but if your flight is still grounded in the morning, I could go with you. For Christmas."

She was whispering the words like she was sharing the most salacious of secrets with him, a lilting tease to her voice, but when Fitz turned his head to look at her, her eyes were downcast and she was biting her lip, betraying her nerves at asking him.

"I'm startin' to think you really like me," Fitz teased her, an arm moving around her shoulders when her sister glanced over at them.

"I should think that would be obvious by now," Jemma stated matter-of-factly.

"It's always jus' me an' my mum for Christmas," Fitz started to explain.

"Oh. I don't want to intrude." She gave a crinkle of her nose as she looked up at him, but he pressed his fingers reassuringly into her shoulder.

"I think my mum would like you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

When she smiled at him again, Fitz didn't bother pretending there was any mistletoe above them, just leaned forward to give her a lingering kiss.

"I'll warn you though," Jemma breathed against his lips. "I have very high expectations for this second date. I pulled out all the stops for our first date - meeting you in an airport, saving you from spending the night there, a homecooked meal that was only slightly overcooked, complete with promoting you to Santa's official engineer." She paused for effect. "And I'm getting a cross country trip to meet your mum? I expect lots of family secrets and baby pictures to be exposed. Also, cake. Minimum, there should be cake."

"I can make tha' happen," Fitz agreed, not moving away.

"Good." She pressed her lips to his again, her hands snaking along his waist to wrap around him before she pulled her head back just enough to lean against his shoulder.

Fitz took a sip from his tea and looked around the room. It didn't really matter what happened tomorrow, he decided, because it was already his favorite holiday.

-o-


And this brings us to the end! Thanks for reading guys. In case you missed the tumblr note, this was a holiday gift for StarryDreamer01, who gave me the prompt, and notapepper was kind enough to beta for me.