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Fitz and Simmons were huddled around a laptop, rather enthusiastically talking over each other, when Skye walked into the room.
“Eating all of his vegetables? I am not a miracle worker—”
“Will you two just—”
“I have been slipping some vitamins into his tea, though.”
“You’ve been doing what?”
Skye raised an eyebrow as she opened the cabinet, but decided to try to give them some privacy as she made her coffee. She liked hearing them talking like that. It was almost like…before.
That was until they both started screaming…
“3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Fitz and Simmons yelled in unison.
Skye looked over, mug in hand. “Guys, it’s not even close to midnight.”
Simmons laughed. “Of course it is—”
“Back home,” Fitz finished.
“Which is when we celebrate,” Simmons clarified.
“Have since the academy. With mum,” he pointed towards the laptop. Which was about when he realized they were ignoring his mother. “No, mum. Just talking to a friend. What? No we can’t give you a tour of…of the base—”
Skye chose to ignore him and turned towards Simmons. “Don’t even think for one moment this is getting you out of the party tonight,” her voice was threatening.
“You aren’t even celebrating at the right time,” Simmons muttered.
Skye simply gave her a very stern look. “And you better dress up. If I even see a peter pan collar…”
“Skye, dressing up does not mean I have to wear something revealing,” Simmons rolled her eyes.
“Fine. I changed my mind. Slutty dress code. My party, my rules,” Skye said, sloppily gesturing with her mug. “Ten o’clock in the garage. Trip and I are decorating the place, so it’s going to look amazing,” she added, walking out of the room.
Simmons sighed and turned back to Fitz’ mum. They had their tradition to get back to.
☆
“Mind if I come in?” Simmons asked, standing at Fitz’ door.
“‘course. Just trying to—” He stopped, mouth open, far too distracted by her dress. “That— um. That new?” he barely managed.
Simmons tugged at the tight, sequined skirt. “Found this on my bed with a note from Skye. Something about putting this on or she’d cause an earthquake. Rather unfair to use that against us,” Simmons shook her head.
“It— it’s uh… nice.” He realized probably a moment too late that he was staring.
“Do you want help?” Simmons asked, gesturing towards his neck.
He looked down. Right. He had been trying to work his tie. “Sometimes it’s still… difficult,” he waved his left hand.
She walked over without another word and grabbed his tie. She knotted it around her own neck, slipped it off, and gently pulled the loop over his head. “There you go,” she said, tightening the knot.
He smiled. “So… the party.”
“Yes. Skye will already be annoyed that we’re running a bit late,” she said lightly. “Shall we?” she offered him her arm.
He looked at it for a few moments, unsure. “Yeah, right. Let’s go,” he grabbed his jacket, precariously draped against his duvet, and took her arm.
☆
“About time,” Skye said, shoving glasses of champagne into their hands. “You two need to catch up. Nice dress,” she added, winking at Simmons.
“Funny,” Simmons said, tugging once more at her hem. “And anyway. It’s already the new year.”
Skye rolled her eyes and continued, “Trip cooked. Like real food. And Coulson got us a bunch of noise makers, which is totally driving May crazy… and Hunter actually. But that’s just ‘cause Bobbi keeps sneaking up behind him and blowing hers by his ears. So, basically, I’m expecting this to be as wild as our great Christmas bash.”
“That was two weeks ago,” Simmons pointed out.
“I know! I love the holidays!” Skye beamed and went to get more champagne.
“She’s going to be utterly miserable tonight,” Simmons said, her tone more affectionate than annoyed. “I guess we should start,” she raised her glass. “To science.”
“And monkeys,” he added.
“Science and monkeys,” she nodded as they clinked glasses.
☆
After roughly seven more toasts to both science and monkeys, Fitz and Simmons found themselves sitting on the floor in an empty hallway, reasonably tipsy.
“You know, I’ve missed you,” Simmons said, resting her head against his shoulder.
“Mm-hmm,” he nodded.
“No, I mean it. We are a pretty impressive team.”
“Pretty,” he repeated.
She paused. “I like this. Talking. I’m glad you asked me to celebrate with your mum again.”
Fitz mumbled something about traditions.
“I know, but it was still nice,” Simmons said, talking over him. She turned to face him. “I’ve wanted to clear some things up for a while now,” she straightened her body. “I didn’t leave because you—”
“Jem, it doesn’t matter,” he interrupted.
“Yes it does. Let me finish,” she scolded. “I didn’t leave because of whatever you seem to think. I wasn’t making things better. Worse, if anything. And then Coulson started talking about this mission and… You’re my favorite person,” she said rather suddenly, a hard look on her face.
“Same,” he nodded, his eyes locked with hers.
“Good,” she said, grabbing the champagne bottle they had rather unceremoniously swiped from the party. “I think it’s almost midnight here.”
“Already the new year,” he corrected. They sat for a few minutes more, her head back against his shoulder.
And then there were the voices from the other room, echoing, counting down. “3…2…1…”
“Happy America New Year,” she said, turning to kiss his cheek. He turned at the same time and their lips accidentally brushed together.
Fitz pulled away quickly, his face growing red.
“Oh, sod this,” Simmons sighed. She repositioned her body, straddling his lap. “Happy American New Year,” she repeated, lips pressed against his ear, then traveling— to his neck, his forehead, his cheek, all before arriving at his mouth.
And so Fitz and Simmons brought in the (American) new year, snogging. Fitz made a rather firm decision that this would have to become a new tradition. He was positive Simmons would agree.