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theartofbeinganerd · 8 years ago

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You Fund-Raise Me Up

Aka my teachers AU, which was the winner of my ‘what multi-chapter fic should I post next’ contest. Here it is, as promised (with a pun for a title that makes me laugh - sorry)!

Just a note: Typically, I'm going to try and focus on both Fitzsimmons and Mackelena in each chapter, but I'll admit that it'll likely skew more towards FS more often than not, just something to keep in mind.

(Ao3)

“Hey, Fitz, can I – is that more chocolate?”

Guiltily, Fitz paused in his frenzied effort to hide a small pile of chocolate bars in the top desk of his drawer. “Oh, hey Simmons…um…something you needed?”

Heaving an exasperated sigh and shaking her head, Jemma crossed her arms over her chest and stepped further into the classroom. Once she was standing in front of Fitz’s desk, she peered disappointedly down at him, the same look that she used on her students when they tried to form some kind of excuse as to why they didn’t have their homework. “Oh Fitz. It’s not a fundraiser if you’re buying up all of the product.”

“I only have so much willpower!” Fitz cried defensively. “How am I supposed to say no to candy bars?”

Jemma pressed her lips together to hide her amused smile as she shook her head again. “Maybe we should have gone with Daisy’s calendar idea – at least that way you wouldn’t be in danger of solely funding us.”

Fitz pulled a horrified face, and it caused Jemma to finally break, laughter slipping past her lips and revealing her ruse. “Very funny, Simmons. But I’m not joking when I say that no one would buy a calendar of ‘sexy teachers’ if I was in there with my shirt off.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jemma replied with a placating pat to his shoulder, though she figured that the laughter still lingering in her voice made the sentiment less believable, from the telling scowl that Fitz threw in her direction.

“Anyway,” he started pointedly, “what was it that you wanted before?”

For a moment, Jemma had forgotten that she’d had a purpose in dropping by Fitz’s classroom, but at his not-so-subtle reminder, she said, “Oh! Yes, I was wondering if I could borrow a couple of your microscopes. I’m starting the cell unit tomorrow and I don’t have enough for the class, even putting them in pairs.”

“Sure thing,” he replied easily, getting up from his desk and crossing the classroom to the back counter, where a small amount of microscopes were set up in a row. “How many do you need?” he called over his shoulder.

“Two should do it, thank you,” Jemma answered a bit distractedly, taking the chance to check his desk drawer. Once it had been pulled all the way out, her eyebrows rose high on her forehead as she caught sight of the chocolate bars practically lining it. “Ugh Fitz!”

“What?!” When she raised her head to glare at him, she noticed him balancing the two requested microscopes in his arms, struggling a bit under the weight of them, and his cheeks slowly growing redder and redder as he figured out what she’d seen. “Hey, I’ve never claimed to have an ounce of self-control when it comes to chocolate.” Clearly trying to save face, he added, “’Sides, it’s not exactly surprising. You know this happens every year.”

With a sigh, Jemma perched lightly on the edge of Fitz’s desk and reminded him sadly, “This isn’t every other year though, Fitz. We’re not raising money for field trips or extra lab equipment, not without that tax money.”

Fitz grimaced, partly at her words, but also partly, it appeared, due to his continued juggling of the microscopes. Rolling her eyes fondly, Jemma stood from his desk and (only after trying to take one of the microscopes from Fitz and receiving a childish shake of the head in response) wordlessly gestured for him to follow her on the short walk from his classroom in the seventh grade hallway to hers in the eighth. As he trailed behind her, he grumbled, “If it wasn’t for that bastard Governor Ward and his filthy, lying bastard face… I still have no bloody clue how he even got elected.”

“Some people don’t care to look past the clearly false promises,” Jemma sighed, pushing open the door to her classroom and stepping back to allow Fitz to enter. “You can put them over there,” she told him, pointing toward a relatively empty table. Watching absently as Fitz did as she asked, Jemma felt a rush of sadness at the thought that this time next year, she might not be in this classroom setting up slides of plant cells or discussing recent scientific discoveries over tea with Fitz in the afternoons as they put off grading just a little bit longer.

“Hey.” At Fitz’s soft voice beside her, Jemma glanced up in surprise, a small smile flitting involuntarily across her lips when he nudged her shoulder with his. “Ward’s not shutting us down. We’re gonna prove to him that we’re prepared to fight for our school.”

As her smile became more genuine, Jemma’s mind flashed back almost a decade, to when she and Fitz had just been fresh-faced almost-college-graduates, interning at the tiny Margaret Carter Middle School in some tiny little town, entirely unaware that it was where they’d meet the person that would become their best friend in the world. The school meant so much to both of them, and Jemma couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else or with anyone else.

Gently dropping her head to rest on Fitz’s shoulder, she murmured in agreement, “We’ll show him.”

“Where d’you want this one?” Daisy asked with a low grunt, hefting a cardboard box into her arms.

Jemma glanced up from her clipboard, frowning in disapproval. “Didn’t you check the label first? Daisy, Fitz and I spent every night for a week sorting the donations and labeling those boxes.”

With an overly dramatic sigh, Daisy craned her neck to check the side of the box, reading out loud, “‘House ware’.”

“Alright, good, the house ware section is over there.” Jemma pointed across the moderately-sized front lawn of the school to the proper table.

Barely a moment after Daisy had left to drop the box off, Mack stepped up to her, a pile of posters beneath his arm. “I’ve got that last batch of signs. Want me to go put ‘em up?”

Jemma dropped her gaze to the posters tucked against his side, a little smile tugging at her lips as she saw the brightly painted letters spelling out ‘yard sale’ and the copious amount of glitter glue. “I’m sure art class was a blast this week.”

Mack chuckled in amusement as he nodded. “Oh yeah. The kids love when I tell them I’m only grading on creativity. May, however? Not so much. Do me a favor and keep it between us?”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Jemma assured him with a faux-serious nod and a salute. “Go ahead and hang them up, but try to be quick; it’ll be ten before we know it.”

“You got it, Simmons,” Mack replied with an understanding smile, then he headed off in the direction of the street.

In the short amount of time that it took him to staple the first sign onto a telephone pole, someone had come up beside him, and a little grin appeared on his face as he heard, “At this rate, you won’t be finished until sundown, Turtle Man.”

Chuckling to himself, Mack dropped his gaze from the poster to Elena, standing just to his right with her arms crossed over her chest and a smirk playing on her lips. “You always call me that, but you never give a straight answer on why.”

If possible, Elena’s smirk seemed to become even more mischievous as she playfully hummed and tipped her head back and forth in consideration. “Oh? Is it not obvious?”

“Not really,” Mack shot back, even though he was pretty sure where the teasing nickname had come from. Elena was known for being the fastest at just about anything she put her mind to – she was always the first to send in grades, the first at the coffee pot in the morning, and when she’d been challenged to a lighthearted battle of history trivia by Trip, she’d absolutely dominated her fellow social studies teacher by beating him to answering each and every question. To Elena, everyone was a turtle; he was just the unfortunate victim of the nickname, surely in retaliation for the one that he’d stuck her with some time ago. “Yo-Yo,” he tacked on, just to see her grimace.

Of course, he could tell that by now, her irritation with the name was all for show and if she was annoyed by anything, it was how much it had grown on her. “Well, there is always tomorrow,” Elena told him breezily, the glint in her eyes telling him that the day when she explained ‘Turtle Man’ was most likely never coming. She glanced over her shoulder, toward the front lawn of the school, where the others were still emptying the boxes that Jemma and Fitz had meticulously sorted. “Alright, give them to me,” she said suddenly, gesturing impatiently toward the posters held securely under his arm.

“What?” he asked, taken aback by the demand.

“It will go much faster if I do it,” she explained as though it was obvious, waving a spare stapler that he hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. Then, without waiting for a response, she swiped the posters from beneath his arm and wordlessly took off in the direction of the next telephone pole.

For a long moment, Mack was left staring after her in stunned disbelief. Then, he chuckled to himself, shaking his head, and headed back to help the others with the finishing touches on setting up.

He’d been carrying a particularly heavy box toward the ‘books’ table when he quite abruptly found himself stumbling, nearly losing his footing completely. “What the…”

“Oi! Watch where you’re going!”

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Mack prayed for patience before turning to face Hunter, sitting casually up against one of the tables, one hand buried in a bag of potato chips. “What are you doing, man?” he asked in exasperation.

“Hiding from Simmons, obviously,” Hunter replied, shaking his head as though Mack was the one not making sense. “If I get barked at for standing around one more time, I’m gonna snap that damn clipboard of hers in half. Who the hell put her in charge, anyway?”

“She volunteered,” Mack reminded him, “which both Coulson and May approved. I think if you should be hiding from anyone, it’s May, and believe me, she will find you.”

Hunter made a face at that, throwing a slightly worried glance around the edge of the table. “She’s not still pissed about my ‘how to spot a hell-beast’ lesson, is she? That was ages ago, and Coulson hired me on full-time anyway!”

Mack heaved a put-upon sigh, shifting to hold the box with one arm as he reached up with his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. It had only been the previous year that Coulson had finally offered the infamous substitute teacher Lance Hunter the position of full-time home ec-slash-health teacher when Lincoln had left. Personally, Mack sometimes wondered what their boss had been thinking, but rumor had it that he’d been impressed by the “perfect” mushroom soup that Hunter had taught Joey’s gym class to make once.

“Look,” he finally said, ignoring Hunter’s obvious worry about May, “if Bobbi finds out you skipped out on helping today, you won’t have to worry about Simmons or May.”

Hunter grimaced, but ultimately got to his feet. “Bloody hell-beast,” he grumbled under his breath as he headed toward where Jemma was directing the other teachers, “those kids are gonna thank me for that lesson someday, gonna save them a world of trouble, it is.”

Pointedly pretending that he hadn’t heard Hunter’s mutterings, Mack continued on toward the book table, surprised to find that Elena was perched on the edge of it. Though her attention was on a thick old tome with yellowing pages, there was a smirk playing on her lips. At his approach, she flipped the book shut and set it aside, leaning back on her hands as she directed her growing smirk up at him.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Mack cut in before she could start, grinning as he set his box down, “You beat me here, I’m so slow; I know exactly what you’re thinking, you don’t need to say a word.”

“Perhaps not exactly,” Elena replied playfully. She didn’t elaborate any further, and instead set to helping him empty the box and organize the final batch of books.

They were just finishing up when people started to arrive, and time began to pass quickly from there.

By that evening, when the sky was just beginning to darken, Mack was quite unsurprised to hear a teasing call of, “Oh, Turtle Man?”

Turning from where he’d been folding up a now-empty table, Mack found Elena standing next to an older woman, a cardboard box on the table behind them. Chuckling under his breath, Mack slid his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans and ambled over, asking curiously, “What is it, Yo-Yo?” as if he had no idea, as if she hadn’t been doing this all day.

“Loretta here needs a hand getting this box to her car,” Elena explained, reaching back to tap a hand against the box.

“Sure thing,” Mack agreed easily, and both women stepped back as he hefted the relatively heavy box into his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elena making absolutely no effort to hide the way she watched his biceps flex, a pleased little ‘hmm’ coming from her.

Pressing his lips together to hide his amused grin, Mack allowed the woman, Loretta, to lead him to her car. She thanked him, and embarrassed the hell out of him when she told him to “tell his girlfriend” thank you as well, but he didn’t bother to correct her.

When he’d returned to the middle of the front lawn, where Jemma was directing the clean-up procedure, he commented to her, “Seems like things went well today.”

“As well as they could, yes,” Jemma replied with a tired sigh, the whole situation they’d found themselves in seeming to weigh heavily upon her – much like it did with them all.

“Thanks to you, ‘course,” Fitz put in as he walked up to them, smiling warmly as he gently elbowed her in the ribs until a tiny smile tugged at her lips. “We’ll get it all sorted, don’t you worry.”

When Jemma released another soft sigh as her only response, Mack couldn’t help but add, “Fitz is right. It’s all gonna work out in the end, Simmons. You’ll see.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jemma murmured.

#shayna writes #fsfic #fitzsimmons #mackelena #yoyomack #you fund-raise me up #teachers au #chapter one #look i have to have at least one fic #with a pun in the title #this is non-negotiable #hey look #i guess i can write fics without angst #(at least so far)

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clearascountryair · 8 years ago

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Fitzsimmons pregnancy/birth/baby headcanon?

Ahaha be careful what you wish for

Their first (and second and third, if we’re being honest) pregnancy is an accident.

They’re both pretty nervous though. With Jemma’s medical history, they’re terrified that something could go wrong.

So they don’t tell anyone. Anyone. It starts out a bit with the Jewish superstition about not telling anyone but immediate family until the fifth month

(May realizes in the second month and the rest of the team by the middle of the third but they don’t say anything because they’ll tell them when they’re ready)

But then it just becomes a thing that no one mentions? It just kind of happens. 7 months in an no one has said anything. It’s not about superstition anymore. It’s just kind of a joke

But May pieces together the Jewish superstitious aspect and makes sure that Daisy doesn’t buy the baby anything. It works out well because the birth mother of Mack and Elena’s baby is due a month before Jemma (they think, based on the last time Daisy remembers Jemma having her period), so Daisy accidentally acquires a second of everything she’s buying Mack and Elena’s kid. “It doesn’t count, I’m just spoiling this baby rotten.”

Just before 8 months, there’s this fancy black tie shindig and both the director of SHIELD and the head of the science division are invited. Even though in action, Jemma and Fitz run the division together, it’s Jemma’s name on paper. So 8 months into a secret pregnancy, Jemma goes with Coulson to a snazzy black tie event

They’re there for about two hours when Jemma pulls Coulson away from some rather big donors.“Sir?”“Simmons?”“I have to tell you something.”

“It better be important, Jemma, they had a lot of money to push towards your research.”“Yes, well, this may come as a bit of a surprise, but I’m about eight months pregnant. About. 34 weeks to be specific”(He just raises an eyebrow because he does not have time for this shit)“And I think I’m going into labor.”

Meanwhile, back at base, Mack and Elena get the call to go to the hospital because their little girl’s on the way. Fitz is getting ready to drive them when he gets a rather panicked call from Coulson

Naturally, he panics and gets May. She calms him down and tells him Daisy can drive Mack and Elena, she’ll drive Fitz to Jemma. Mack and Elena are two of her best friends, but Jemma’s her kid and she’s going into preterm labor and she needs her.

Josefina Mackenzie-Rodriguez is born exactly 3 hours and 41 minutes before Imogen Fitzsimmons. When they get older, they take this connection very seriously. It’s a nightmare for their teachers.

Imogen’s favorite place to nap is on Fitz’s chest. It doesn’t matter how upset she is, if you snuggle her up against Fitz’s chest, she’ll calm down. Sometimes, Jemma will get home or out of the shower, and Fitz will be dozing on the couch with a little bump under his shirt and the fuzz of Im’s hair poking out of the top. He reminds her that skin to skin contact is important for babies and then pretends to sleep so she can take pictures

And, look, they all knew that they were family to each other and had joked for years that Coulson was more their dad than any of their biological fathers (definitely accurate for Fitz and Daisy, it doesn’t take too long for the Simmons’ to refer to Coulson and May as Jemma’s other parents–Mama Simmons introduces May as “My daughter’s mother” at Jemma’s bridal shower) but no one’s really prepared for how seriously Coulson takes the role of Imogen and Jo’s grandpa. We’re talking beginning every conversation with showing off pictures of the girls, sometimes bringing them to meetings with high ranking government officials. A couple years down the line, he does something very brave and very stupid and takes (by then) all seven girls (and May) to Disney World. His office is covered in pictures of them and it never even occurs to him to clarify when someone asks if they’re his granddaughters.

It does get a little awkward one time when someone gestures to a picture of the whole Fitzsimmons family with Daisy and asks which is his kid and he responds, confused, “All of them.”

Im and Jo become part of May’s workout routine. Push-ups are way more enjoyable when you’ve got a squishy face to kiss at the bottom. Elena, Jemma, and Daisy absolutely have spotted her doing this and said nothing. She does this with all the kids. It’s a pretty easy work out the first two times–Sadie and Luci are only a week apart so she gets the same baby work out. She has to step up her game with the Fitzsimmons triplets, though. Everyone does.

It’s pretty normal to walk into the kitchen at the Playground and find Mack and Fitz bathing the girls in the big kitchen sink. Even when Imogen goes through her no baths phase, Mack is the one who can get her to enjoy the bath.

The girls are four and two when Jemma gets pregnant again and Sadie is hysterical because she likes being the littlest.

Anyway these kids are the most well-documented kids in the world

Jemma’s favorite picture is when the triplets are about five months old and Fitz is lying in the grass in the park and all five of his daughters are sitting on his chest (well, kind of. Ruth might be falling off his chest in the actual picture)

#fitzsimmons #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #aosficnet #fitzsimmons kids #yoyomack #yoyomack kids #bullet fic #Anonymous #Em answers

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biluata · 8 years ago

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It's Always Better When We're Together - Quakerider One-shot

Words: 6,953

Request #5: Daisy hustles Robbie in pool

Goofball Idiots in Love. Pure Fluff and Humor. Lovey-dovey Feels. Slightly Saucy. Minor Mack/Yo-Yo.

Read on Ao3: Here

Never again, Daisy thought, groaning as she limped her way into the Containment Module.

She and Mack had just finished answering a distress call about a possible enhanced threat in Boulder, Colorado. This “horribly dangerous” threat turned out to be just a guy who was extremely “Rocky Mountain high” and had enough fireworks and smoke bombs to start to Fourth of July show. He apparently had been terrorizing the neighborhood, claiming he was the all-powerful “Sorcerer Supreme.”

Besides the fact that this guy was wearing nothing but a pair of tighty-whitey underwear and a cloak made from a “World of Warcraft” bedspread, Daisy had already met the actual “Sorcerer Supreme” a couple months ago for a S.H.I.E.L.D mission. This patriotic Coloradoan was far from being him, although they both were a bit of an asshole.

Once they had realized he was nowhere close to being an enhanced threat, it should have been just an easy arrest and hand-off to the local police. Of course, it never could be that simple. No, instead, the guy lit all his fireworks in an attempt at a last stand and all Hell broke loose.

Smoke and sparks went everywhere quickly blinding them all and turning everything upside down. She had gotten smacked around quite a bit by a few sneaky rockets that seemed to be coming from every direction. When the smoke finally cleared, she couldn’t deny how satisfying it had been to knock him unconscious and break his nose with one swift punch to the face.

Daisy leaned against the inside of the tiny white box, rubbing her thigh where a particularly feisty firecracker nicked her. It left a near circular burn mark that frayed the threading of her Quake suit. And I just got this damn suit fixed! She thought bitterly, gritting her teeth.

Mack and Agent Farris squeezed their way into the Containment Module, as well. Although Farris looked like he had just finished cleaning a chimney, Mack had made it out of the scenario relatively unscathed despite being larger than her and Farris combined. Daisy narrowed her eyes. Ugh, did she hate him for it.

“You know,” Daisy started, running a hand through her hair. “When I agreed to rejoin S.H.I.E.L.D, I was not expecting to–” She winced as she pulled out a piece of firecracker plastic from her hair. “To be given assignments like this.”

Mack smirked, but did not look up from his tablet. “Perks of the job,” he stated as he continued typing their end-mission report.

The Containment Module hissed closed. Daisy immediately grabbed onto the side before the Module launched itself in the air. Landscape and mountains whizzed past the window in a blur, quickly replaced by the dazzling orange and pink sky of the setting sun. She averted her eyes as her stomach began to roll. No matter how many times she rode in here, the motion sickness never got easier.

Suddenly, the Module’s breakneck vertical climb into the atmosphere slowed. A heavy, resounding clunk reverbed through her chest as their transport connected with the underside of Zephyr One. Daisy took one last glance at the sunset before their scenic window view was replaced with the dim, dark interior of the plane’s loading bay.

“What a long day,” she announced, stepping through the Containment Module’s doors as they whirred open. Seriously, between this and the U.S. Government being on her ass this morning about the Sokovia Accords and “Inhuman versus Human” injustice bullshit, she needed a drink. She hissed as pain spiked in her thigh like a cattle prod. Or maybe two.

Daisy grinned. And, she knew the exact person to drink with.

She slipped off her gauntlets as she headed over to the closest set of lockers. Opening the one to the immediate fare left, Daisy tossed her gauntlets in with only the slightest bit of care before pulling out her S.H.I.E.L.D-issued black backpack. Luckily, her phone rested right on top and she quickly snatched it out before throwing her bag back inside.

“Really?” Mack asked, raising his brow as he opened the locker two down from hers. “Not even a minute back and you are already calling your boyfriend?”

Daisy rolled her eyes, but her cheeks still heated up anyway. “Please, like you weren’t just about to call Yo-Yo.”

He grinned, pulling his cell phone out and shutting his locker shut. “Yeah, but my girlfriend also happens to be fiancée and the mother to my unborn child, so I think it’s a bit different.”

“Sure, whatever.” She laughed and watched him walk off deeper into the plane.

Daisy turned her attention back to her phone and held down the number “6.” She clutched the phone close to her head as the familiar trill of the dial-up buzzed in her ear. He picked up at the third ring.

“Hello?” Robbie asked.

Her heart instantly melted in her chest. Daisy knew she had only just talked to him yesterday, but man did she love hearing his voice. It was rough, but sweet like velvety sandpaper that tickled her ears and sent warm vibrations dancing across her nerves.

“Please, tell me you are free tonight?” She pleaded, leaning back against the set of lockers.

Robbie must have sensed her aggravation through the phone, because he barely hesitated. “Uh, sure. I can be. The usual place?”

A tender smiled worked its way across her face. How lucky was she to have a boyfriend like him? She didn’t have to say much, but he was always ready to do anything at the drop of a dime for her. Honestly, she swore she didn’t deserve him.

“That sounds perfect.”

“I have a few things to finish up at Canelo’s first,” he explained. As if to enunciate the point, the muffled sound of some sort of power tool whirred in the background. “But I can meet you there in an hour, if you want? Are you already in L.A?”

“Actually, I’m in Boulder, Colorado. It’s a long, long story. So, how about I meet you in two hours?”

“That works for me. I–”

“Ey, Reyes! Are you talking to your girl Daisy?” Someone, who she swore sounded like Benny, called in the background. Out of all his coworkers, Daisy liked Benny the most. He always had great jokes and crazy stories, and he was a pretty awesome DJ on the weekends.

“Yeah,” Robbie said, his mouth away from the speaker. “We were just – Hey!”

Static and indistinct voices crackled in her ear. She pressed the phone closer and strained to make out what they were saying.

“Daisy!” Benny suddenly boomed into the ear piece like an explosion. She winced as she held the phone a few inches away but that didn’t stop the ringing in her ear. “Robbie just wanted me to tell you that he loves you and misses you and he spends all day dreaming about you two–”

“Hey! Cállate, güey!” Robbie hollered.

Daisy chuckled. More shuffling ensued along with a muffled, heated argument in Spanish between the two that she could not keep up with. What it was, though, sounded pretty hilarious between Benny's teasing laughter and Robbie's exasperated tones.

She bit her lip and sighed. It was times like that Daisy really hated how she hadn't taken the time to learn Spanish yet. So many beloved people in her life spoke Spanish. It would be nice to be able to communicate with them through it, as well; or, at least, to make sure they stopped joking and talking bad about her when she was right there.

"Sorry, Daisy, I got to go," Robbie panted into the phone as Benny cackled in the background. "I'll see you in two hours. Bye."

"See you then," she replied, but he had already hung up.

Daisy set her phone aside before quickly stripping off her uniform right there in the loading bay. At this point in her life, she frankly didn't give a damn who saw her in her underwear. It took almost two hours to get to L.A. by Quinjet from here, and she needed to hurry if she was going to meet Robbie on time.

Letting her uniform lay bunched up on the floor, she snatched up her backpack and took out the civilian clothes she had stashed inside. It wasn't the cutest outfit in the world, just a long, plain red t-shirt she was pretty sure once belonged to Robbie and an old pair of dark ripped jeans, but it would have to do. She tugged them on with the gusto of a costume change backstage during a play, before slipping on her favorite black leather jacket and heeled boots.

Her hair and makeup were in an atrocious state, more fit for an MCR concert than a date night, but she didn't have time to worry about that right now. Besides, one of the best parts about dating Robbie is that he has already seen her at some of her worst.

And, he still loves me all the same, she thought as a smile inched across her face and that warm, fuzzy feeling grew in her heart.

She stuffed her Quake uniform and gauntlets into her backpack (because she could never be too prepared) and zipped it closed. Daisy then gathered the rest of her things, slammed her locker shut, and quickly made her way towards the main deck.

"McCafferty!" She hollered with the brass of a drill sergeant when she arrived.

A young man skinnier than a light pole, yet tall enough to be a basketball star, jumped from where he stood by the communications console. His face was pale as he quickly rushed over then stood at attention straighter than a picket fence in front of her.

"Yes, Agent Quake, I mean, Johnson, sir, ma'am!" He squeaked out with one hand resting in a salute on his forehead.

Daisy grinned. Agent McCafferty was one of the newest recruits for S.H.I.E.L.D, an ace pilot and communications technician they snatched from the U.S. Air Force. Despite him being twice her size, he was still scared to death, as well as being a little star-struck, of her.

"I need you to pilot a Quinjet for me to Los Angeles. Urgent business. I need us to be wheels up in five."

"Yes, ma'am," McCafferty stated without a second thought and hurried off to the Quinjet bay.

It was times like this that she was thankful for her Quake reputation.

Daisy continued to move throughout the main deck until she reached the door that led to one of the plane's small conference rooms. She pushed the slightly cracked open door aside and found Mack sitting in one of the many chairs in the far corner. He was smiling and talking in sweet, hushed tones to whom she could only assume was Yo-Yo.

Daisy smiled and a light airiness filled her chest. After all of the terrible stuff he had been through, they all had been through, it was great to see Mack find joy and love in his life.

"Hey!" She whispered-yelled to him with a wave of her hand.

"Hold on," Mack murmured into the phone before lowering it. "Yeah?" He asked her.

"I'm heading to Los Angeles. Are you cool with, I don't know, everything?" She asked. It was vague, but she and Mack had been partners long enough to know what she meant. S.H.I.E.L.D was a very strict and busy duty. An agent shouldn't just take off after a mission, but she needed to get away. She needed to see Robbie.

Mack nodded. "Don't worry, I got you covered."

Daisy beamed as her heart squeezed tight. Mack was honestly the best. She definitely had to splurge on his and Yo-Yo's baby gift registry now.

"Thanks!" She called as he returned back to his phone call.

McCafferty was ready to launch the moment Daisy stepped onto the Quinjet. She settled into one of the many seats, laid her backpack onto the seat beside her, and buckled up.

"Get us to East Los Angeles as fast as you can," she said, shuffling a little in the hard, metal seat to get more comfortable.

"Yes, ma'am."

She didn't know whether it was because McCafferty was a great pilot, or if he gunned the jet out of fear of disappointing her, but they made it to Los Angeles in near record time. The sun had already set over the Pacific and the lights of L.A. twinkled beneath them like the stars they outshined above. Still, she was ten minutes ahead of when she said she would meet Robbie.

McCafferty landed the Quinjet by her orders on the concrete banks of the Los Angeles River and opened the back hatch with a slow hiss. Daisy unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her bag.

"You can just take the night off, McCafferty, or head back to HQ. I don't care. Honestly, I don't even know how long I'll be here," she explained, standing up and slinging her backpack over her shoulders.

"But, ma'am, maybe you might need back-up or something? What are we even doing in Los Angeles anyway? Is it the Watchdogs? HYDRA?" He asked from his seat in the cockpit.

"What we are here for, McCafferty, is to relax and have a good time," Daisy stated, walking down the ramp. "Goodnight!"

Her chest pinched tight as McCafferty began shouting after her, but she ignored him. She probably shouldn't have basically forced him to dragger her out here, but she needed this. Hopefully, he and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D wouldn't be too made whenever she returned.

Luckily, where they had landed wasn't too far of a walk from where she said she'd meet Robbie. In only 15 minutes of wandering around the busy streets, she turned the corner and there it was in all its neon glory: "El Gallo Rojo."

"El Gallo Rojo" was a quaint Mexican country bar nestled in between a laundromat and a music shop. While it had the same architectural design as all the other East Los Angeles buildings lined up along the block, the bar's owner, Ernesto, did his best to make his pride and joy stand out. Festive Mexican iconography and neon signs covered nearly every inch of the front entrance with the most noticeable being the giant red rooster statue he attached to the roof like a donut on Randy's Donuts Shop.

This was Robbie's favorite dive bar to hit up and the place he took her to for their second unofficial date. That had been a great night of drinking and laughing until Daisy had gotten way too invested in her karaoke rendition of Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" and ended up vomiting in the bar's bathroom. Her stomach still cringed whenever someone suggested eating shrimp tacos.

Still, the night hadn't been all bad. Even in her drunken haze, she remembered Robbie holding back her hair as she heaved the contents of her stomach repeatedly into the toilet. He didn't have to do that for her, but he did. He also had stayed by her side the whole night to make sure she was okay and even made her laugh when she honestly felt like crying her eyes out. That had been the moment she first realized she could honestly see herself falling for this bad boy with a heart of gold.

Daisy pulled open the front door to the bar and immediately got hit with blaring Latin music and the place's familiar concocted scent of cigarette smoke, sweat, cheap beer and frying grease. What had once nearly suffocated her upon contact like mustard gas, now the smell was almost comforting like finding a favorite old childhood toy in a moldy cardboard box in the garage.

Despite it only being a Tuesday night, the place was decently busy. Some regulars she recognized were lined up on stools at the bar while groups of friends, families and couples intermixed at the tables and booths. They were all lit up in a dazzling array of colorful twinkling lights that hung thick from the ceiling and along the walls. The room honestly looked like a Mexican Christmas explosion had happened, but she still loved it. The place may be a pit cheesy and its hygiene was a solid "B" rating at best, but it was hers and Robbie's place.

Daisy ran her hand through her now fixed hair one last time for good measure as she scanned the room. Immediately, she found Robbie in his favorite leather jacket sitting at their usual booth and staring pensively at the beer in his hand. She frowned. He was troubled about something, but when has he ever not been? Whatever it was bothering him this time, she hoped it was something minor and not the fiery demon leeching inside him.

As Daisy made her way over, Robbie looked up and his whole face softened when his eyes landed on her. He smiled that soft grin of his that curled the edges of his moustache and made her heart melt like caramel.

Robbie hastily shuffled out of the booth as his eyes never left hers. They could honestly be the only two people in the room for all Daisy cared, because she was only focused on him, too. The second she made it to their booth, he instantly wrapped her in his arms and held her close with enough force to lift her feet off the ground.

Soft laughter bubbled in her chest and jingled out of her mouth as she hugged him back. There was nothing better than being in his arms. They were so strong and so warm like hugging a big, leather teddy bear.

He set her back down onto the ground, but immediately bent his head down and kissed her. Fire flooded her lips and instantly spread throughout her body, making her atoms come alive. Everything was starting to get fuzzy and she swore she was seeing stars.

Daisy gasped for air when they separate, but her mouth still tingled with sparks. Robbie grinned down at her, his cheeks a little flushed.

"Sorry, I missed you," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

She smiled as she leaned forward and gave him a quick, more chaste kiss. "It's good to see you, too." Daisy's eyes glanced towards their table and lit up on the shot of whiskey nestled between the two beers. "And, you!"

Robbie snickered as Daisy hastily climbed into the cushioned booth. She tugged her enormously bulky backpack off and tossed it against the wall to let it rest on the inside of their booth.

"I thought you might like that," Robbie said as he sat down across from her. "After hearing you on the phone."

"You are a freaking saint, Robbie Reyes," she stated firmly, picking up the shot and cradling it delicately in her hand as if it was the most precious thing in the world, which it may as well be at this very moment.

That got a good, hearty laugh out of him. Robbie threw his head back as his booming laughter filled the space. It sent tingles down her spine and her heart swelled.

"Yeah, sure. The patron saint of what? Alcohol and poor decisions?" He quipped.

Daisy grinned. "I can get behind honoring a saint like that. I'll send my recommendation to the Pope first thing tomorrow." She raised her shot glass into the air. "To Saint Roberto."

Robbie smirked as she tossed her head back and downed the entire contents of her glass. A fire, far from the tender kind that Robbie made her feel, burned with a bitter sting down her throat. Still, it felt good like the way her muscles ached after a great workout. She set the glass down as her belly bubbled with the warmth of her drink.

"So," Robbie asked, taking a sip of his beer. "How was your day?"

Daisy chuckled bitterly. "How do I even start. . ."

For the next several minutes, she ranted to him about all the shit that had happened to her. He was an attentive listener, watching her ramble on with all his focus and a serious expression on his face. It wasn't until she started discussing her mission in Colorado did he begin to crack up. Of course, as soon as he started to chuckle and grin, Daisy couldn't help but take her story not as seriously anymore, either.

"No way!" He stated, lightly slamming his hand on the wooden table.

"I'm not kidding!" Daisy interjected with a giggle. "He just stood there waving his fingers at us and screaming--" She lowered her voice into a dramatic tenor. "'I am the Sorcerer Supreme! Bow before my mighty power! Alookaza! Alookaza!'" Daisy wiggled her fingers at him and Robbie leaned back as he laughed.

"In his underwear?" He asked when he composed himself a little, tears at the corners of his eyes.

"In his underwear!" She repeated, taking a sip of her beer.

"Well, did you fall under his spell?"

Daisy's body pitched forward as she snorted. She held her mouth tightly shut as she laughed to keep herself from spitting her beer out on the table, but that didn't stop the amber liquid from burning the insides of her nostrils. Composing herself, she swallowed and gasped for air.

"Robbie!" She exclaimed, fire blazing in her chest.

"What?" He questioned innocently but was grinning devilishly. "I'm just saying he sounds convincing."

They both broke down into fits of laughter. Robbie held on to the table to keep himself from sliding onto the floor while Daisy cradled her sides as each spasm of chuckles became even more painful than the last. As their laughter began to die down, she wiped the tears by her eyes.

This is exactly what she needed. Although she and Robbie kicked a lot of ass together as the "super-powered duo extraordinaire," she loved it best when the two of them were just relaxing and hanging out together. They didn't have to be "Quake" or "Ghost Rider" or "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D." They could just be Daisy and Robbie: a regular young couple in love just like everybody else.

Daisy went to take another sip from her beer when something behind Robbie caught her eye. It was a pool table, resting where the stage for karaoke and mariachi nights used to be.

Although the table was certainly a new addition to the bar, it was far from being brand-new. Scuffs and cracks marked its wooden sides along with a few cigarette burns. The once vibrant green felt had faded to a dingy olive color and was covered in a variety of stains that she hoped were because of alcohol and not human fluids. It was in rough shape, and she could only assume whoever brought it either picked it up in a junkyard or off the side of the road.

"Since when did Ernesto get a pool table?" She asked.

Robbie twisted in his seat as he followed her gaze. "I don't know, actually. I was just here last week with Benny and it wasn't there." He turned back around and had the most wicked grin plastered on his face.

Daisy raised an eyebrow, her heart beating a bit faster. The last time he had looked at her like that they had gotten extremely frisky in his Charger.

Her eyes widened. Oh, god, he doesn't want us to have sex on a pool table, does he?!

Not that she would actually mind . . . Honestly, it kind of sounded fun, but not right now and certainly not with this table. But maybe they could sneak into a different bar with a pool table later . . .

"Do you want to?" Robbie asked.

Her heart rate spiked. "Hm?" Daisy sputtered, eyes wide.

"Pool? Did you want to play pool?" He asked again a little slower with his brow furrowed.

Oh. He just meant . . . Not the two of them . . . Right. Daisy took a sip of her beer as her cheeks began to burn. Damn her and her wildly active imagination.

"I don't know . . ." She eventually murmured out, looking down at the table and nursing her bottle close to her mouth.

"Oh, come on," Robbie teased, grabbing her free hand she left on the table. "It's really easy and fun. I'll teach you."

Wait, what? Daisy raised her head, her eyebrows scrunched together. "Actually, I--"

"Come on," he said as he got up from his seat.

"But, Robbie, I--"

"Don't worry about it. It's easy!"

Daisy groaned as she allowed him to tug her out of her seat and over towards the pool table. At least, she still had her beer. She took sips and watched as Robbie let her go to quickly set up the balls then grab two cue sticks. He held one out for her to which she graciously accepted.

"Alright, so pool is pretty simple. What you go to do . . ." Robbie began to explain but by that point Daisy had started to zone him out.

She hadn't protested earlier because she didn't know how to play pool. Daisy was actually a master at pool. It had been a hobby of hers growing up before she had gotten really interested in computers and hacking. Most of her early teenage years were spent hanging out at arcades in order to avoid her foster parents. It had mostly been a sausage fest with asshole, airheaded guys who always thought they could be so slick with her just because she was a pretty girl. There had been nothing more satisfying in the world than to see their stupid faces when she hustled them out of hundreds of dollars.

Of course, Robbie was way better than those guys. He was honestly such a sweetheart compared to most and usually had good intentions, despite never believing so himself. She couldn't pull a fast one on him like that. One of her eyebrows slowly began to rise. Or could she . . .

"And that's pretty much it. You got it?" Robbie asked, looking to her expectantly with a soft smile.

"Hm? Oh yeah, got it."

"Alright, I'll start, so you can watch me."

"Gladly," Daisy said, grinning.

She stepped back as Robbie bent over the table to line up his shot. Daisy bit her bottom lip hard as the fabric of his jeans was pulled tight over his ass. Damn did she love pool. It honestly took every bit of her willpower not to just go and smack his fine behind.

Robbie broke the balls then proceeded to pocket the number "6" ball.

"Okay," he said, straightening up. "So, since I sunk the '6' that means I have to try to get all the solid-colored balls into the pockets. You are going to try to get all of the striped balls in, cool?"

"You got it."

He nodded. "Alright, so a person keeps shooting until they fail to pocket one of their balls. Also, you are going to want to avoid sinking in the black '8' ball until all of your other balls are pocketed."

"Why? Is it not going to give me the answers to my questions then?" She teased.

Robbie snorted and shook his head. "You're cute, you know that, right?"

Daisy beamed as her heart grew a little lighter. "Obviously."

He smiled. "Okay, so you want to avoid the '8' ball until the end because, if you sink it in before then, it's an automatic win for your opponent."

Which Daisy, of course, already knew, but she loved how she was with explaining. Her heart twinged tight in her chest. This was going to make beating him so much worse.

"So, any questions?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Sounds easy enough."

"Cool. Let's continue."

Robbie turned back towards the table. He studied it for a few seconds before he bent down and smoothly shot the "5" ball into one of the corner pockets. Daisy raised her brow. Impressive. Too bad she was better.

He lined up another shot to get the "2" ball into one of the side pockets. It was an easy shot, one that anyone with decent hand-eye coordination could do in their sleep, but Robbie sent the little blue sphere careening wildly off to the side like a loose bull.

"You did that on purpose, Reyes!" She exclaimed, smacking the butt of her cue stick hard on the bar's wooden floors.

Robbie stood up, the smallest, most coy of smiles twitching at the edges of his lips. "I don't know what you are talking about. Just a miscalculation on my part, I guess," he said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right, sure." Miscalculation, my ass, she thought.

"Come on, it's your turn."

She sighed as she set her beer bottle aside and strode towards the table. Her eyes scanned the tabletop, invisible trajectory paths forming over the dingy green felt. The "10" was an easy shot being just a few inches away from a corner pocket. However, with the way "14" was lined up, she could sink that and the "12" with its ricochet.

"Here," Robbie said, placing a gentle hand on her back. "Let me help."

Daisy bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her groan, but complied as he set his stick down then led her around to the other side of the table.

"So, what you want to do is hold the pool cue back here with your dominant hand at hip level. Then, when you lean down, you want your other hand resting on the table with the end of your cue stick sitting in the slot between your thumb and your index finger," he explained.

Robbie placed his hands on top of hers and it was like electricity bounced off their touching skin. Butterflies fluttered in her chest. She always loved how warm his hands were and the way his hardened callouses rubbed against her smooth skin. Rough but also gentle, just like him.

He guided her hands towards the proper positions on the cue stick then helped her lean down over the table. Apparently, he was lining her up to try to sink the "9" ball into one of the corner pockets on the far end, away from any other balls.

Robbie still had his arms around her as he helped line up her shot. He was pressed right up against her, mirroring all her actions as they moved as one. His heart pounded fast against her back and heat radiated off of him like a furnace. His usual scent of gasoline, leather and firewood filled her nostrils and caused her heart to beat a little quicker.

"Alright, remember to keep your grip loose and gently follow through with your shot," he murmured low in her hear.

His voice was as smooth and sweet as toffee. Her knees trembled a little and Daisy bit her lip to keep herself from just melting in to him. She honestly couldn't breathe.

"I see what you are trying to do here, Reyes, with your smooth moves," she muttered, tilting her head so she could peek at him from the corner of her eye.

Robbie grinned and her heart convulsed in her chest. "Was it that obvious?" He asked.

Daisy rolled her eyes and bumped him with her butt. Damn, hothead, she ruefully thought with a shake of her head. She couldn't wait until she wiped the floor with him.

Daisy focused her attention back on the table and adjusted her aim slightly. She pulled her pool cue back then sent the cue ball flying. It smacked right into the "9" ball and careened it towards the corner pocket. The striped yellow sphere hit the rail and ricocheted away.

She grinned briefly. Yes, it was all going according to her well-trained plan.

"Ooh, so close," she muttered, trying her best to sound disappointed.

Robbie rubbed her back as they both stood up and separated. "You'll get it next time," he encouraged, offering a smile.

Her heart clenched tight. Damn. Why did he have to be so sweet?

"Just watch me, okay?" Robbie said before picking up his cue stick and walking around the table to scope out his next shot.

"Oh, I will," she teased as her eyes followed his ass.

He shot her a look then chuckled as he shook his head. Daisy snatched up her beer and leaned back against an empty dining table.

Robbie was like a panther on the prowl as he paced around the pool table. His eyes were fierce and sharp as they scanned the playing field, looking for his next pretty. He lined up a shot and sunk the "7" in the blink of an eye. Robbie then proceeded to then pocket the "2" and the "4" ball. He was set to also sink the "3" when he jerked his cue stick a little too roughly and sent the cue ball bouncing wildly around the table.

Daisy clenched her beer bottle tight. Another throwaway shot at her expense. Great. She wanted to find the gesture sweet, that he cared about her playing and having fun, but it just made her insides boil instead. Daisy didn't like things to be easy. She enjoyed the challenge, the pain and the hardship. It just made her struggles to overcome them that much tastier.

"Your turn," he stated.

She sighed as she threw her head back and drained the last few drops of her beer. Daisy slammed the empty bottle down hard and rose to her feet. He was going to regret this.

"How about we make this more interesting?" She asked, grinning.

Robbie paused and raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Daisy pursed her lips. She wanted to teach him a lesson, but she didn't want to hustle the poor guy out of all his money either. He was her boyfriend after all whom she swore she loved very dearly. This could really put a damper on their relationship, and Daisy was still a little keen on making that pool table sex fantasy a reality sometime.

"How about the loser has to buy the winner nachos?"

It was a fair bet. A simple one that wouldn't leave either party too upset.

Robbie rested his head on his cue stick as he mulled it over. "I don't know . . ."

"Come on!" Daisy urged, pounding the butt of her cue stick repeatedly into the floor like foot stomps in a stadium. "It'll be more fun!"

He shot her a dubious look. "The last time you said that you nearly broke my neck and I nearly set the laser tag place on fire," Robbie stated.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. Not the damn laser tag, again. He was just never going to give that up, was he?

"I already admitted that I may have taken things a little too far with the whole wraparound thigh head grip takedown--"

"A little?"

Daisy cringed. "Okay, maybe a lot," she admitted.

Ever since she was little, Daisy had been highly competitive. As soon as their game of laser tag had started, her S.H.I.E.L.D-trained instincts just kicked in. When she saw Robbie, she didn't even think, just acted in order win. Was it the proper approach for the situation? Well, no, probably not, but it had been an effective one. She was sure if May had been there, she'd be proud.

Still, Daisy's brutal surprise attack nearly brought the Rider out of him. Robbie had managed to keep him at bay, but that didn't stop him from accidentally lighting the carpet on fire. Despite all the screaming, everything turned out fine in the end, except for the fact that they had been banned from there indefinitely.

"I'm sorry for that, but I have made it up to you plenty since then!" Daisy exclaimed.

Robbie sighed, but nodded his head. "True." He remained silent for a moment, his brown eyes flicking a little back and forth as he debated in his head. "Alright, winner gets nachos, but no foul play and no weird-ass S.H.I.E.L.D ninja takedown moves, okay?"

"Don't worry. I'll save my power thigh moves for later." She winked.

Daisy bit back her smile as Robbie's face began to flush. His eyes slowly trailed down her body before quickly popping back up to her face. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that sent her heart racing. Maybe she was going to be spending the night in Los Angeles after all.

"Uh, alright, let's play then," he coughed out with a tiny grin.

Daisy smirked as she sidled up to the pool table. She scrunched up her face as her eyes considered the placement of each ball in relation to the space. It was going to be hard, but she could do it.

Lining up her first shot, she sent the cue ball spiraling towards ball "15." The striped maroon ball shot forward and cracked against its green-striped sibling, sending both into the corner pockets. Daisy grinned as she walked around the table then bent down and quickly sent the "10" into one of the side pockets. Balls "12" and "9" soon followed. She made quick work of her last two striped balls then turned her attention to the illustrious "8" ball.

"Right corner pocket," she called.

Daisy leaned forward until she was nearly level with the table and lined up her shot. Her hands were steadier than a mountain as she stared down the length of her cue stick. She had this.

CRACK!

The cue ball went flying, making a swift connection with its black counterpart. The "8" ball ricocheted off the rail and smoothly sailed into the corner pocket with a satisfying clunk.

"Looks like I won," she beamed with straightening up.

Robbie, who had resigned himself to sitting on one of the empty dining tables sometime during her turn, stared at her with wide eyes. "How?" He asked, rising to his feet. "You cheated, didn't you? Daisy we agreed--"

She threw her arms up and held her palms facing open towards him while still managing to hold her cue stick with her thumb. "I swear, cross my heart and hope to die, I did not cheat," she stated with her head raised high. "What you are looking at is the best pool hustler in all of west-side Chicago."

He shook his head, stunned. "I though you didn't know how to play."

Daisy grinned as she twirled her pool stick in her hands. "You assumed I didn't know how to play. I was trying to explain that I did, but you kept cutting me off before I could."

He reflected her words for a moment until his cheeks began to blush when he realized she had been right. "I'm sorry," Robbie murmured softly, offering a shy, apologetic smile.

Her heart grew all gooey and mushy like melting marshmallows in her chest. Ugh, why did he have to be so cute? Now this was becoming less like a satisfying lesson of revenge and more like just kicked a loyal, loving puppy straight through the goalposts.

"Fine, whatever, I forgive you. Just stop looking at me like that!" She muttered, crossing her arms and averting her gaze.

Robbie chuckled causing tingles of warmth to run across her chest. "I still can't believe you hustled me like that. You are cruel, girl."

"True," Daisy hummed, sauntering over to where he stood leaning against his cue stick. She stopped mere inches away from and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "But you still love me anyway," she cooed, placing a hand on his chest.

His heart pulsed hard and fast against her touch. Each steady vibration of his body danced along her fingertips and traveled down her arm to her heart. Soft, tender flames bloomed in her chest and danced around inside like a swirling ballerina. There was better feeling in the world than being in tune with Robbie's vibrations. They comforted her like a warm soup on a chilly day or a gentle embrace in the early dawn light.

Robbie brushed a strand of her hair back as he caressed her cheek. His brown eyes were focused on hers. A gentle fire flickered in them, filled with so much care and love it left her breathless. "My fatal flaw," he teased.

Daisy closed her eyes as he bent down and met his lips with hers. She kissed him back but couldn't stop the smile from pulling at the corners of her mouth as his moustache prickled her skin.

Before it got too heated, Daisy slowly broke off the kiss. She opened her eyes and leisurely stepped back.

"Alright, Reyes, time to pay up," she stated as she set her cue stick aside. "Don't think I forgot. All that ass-kicking has made me hungry. I want my victory nachos, and, if you ask kindly enough, I might even share some with you."

Robbie chuckled as his tongue darted over his lips. "Fine, but then best two out of three!" He declared as he, also, set his pool stick down then headed for the bar counter. "And this time I won't go easy. You might be the best pool hustler in West Chicago, but I'm one of the best pool players in East L.A."

Daisy grinned as she followed after him. This was turning out to be exactly the carefree night-off with her boyfriend she hoped it would be.

"You're on!"

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ismaelmyblogisamess · 4 years ago

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Christmas at River’s End Mall

Summary - A Christmas AU in which everyone navigates their seasonal jobs, relationships and Christmas spirit, or lack there of, through woven together tales inspired by holiday prompts.

Chapter 4 - Christmas Traditions

Summary - Elena impatiently waits for the single father she’s been flirting with to finally ask her out. Unfortunately while she likes to move fast, he prefers to take things slow.

Prompt - Christmas Traditions Relationship - Mackelena (+Hope!) POV - Elena

“Elena! Come sit with us.”

Elena can pick out the familiar call of her name even through the rumble of dozens of chattering children. And if she couldn’t, Hope Mackenzie made it easy by standing up on her chair and waving excitedly while her father urged her to sit back down.

She grins at the pair and holds up one finger, she only needs a minute more to finish up with the families in line to meet Santa.

Keep reading

#mackelena fic #yoyomack fic #fic rec

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aubrey-plaza · 8 years ago

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Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez Additional Tags: 5+1 Things

There’s no denying the fact that Elena likes sleeping. All the extra running she does, coupled with her high metabolism, means she needs at least 8 hours a night to be a polite and functioning member of society. Since joining SHIELD, her sleeping hours have dropped drastically and she's increasingly become a fan of naps.

Mack likes naps for the feeling he gets when he wakes up. He’s a firm believer in power naps and whenever he’s feeling overworked or a bit fatigued, he tries to squeeze in a power nap to get him back to full functioning capacity.

#mackelena #yoyomack #yoyo x mack #yoyomacknet #alphonso mackenzie #elena rodriguez #k8 writes #ae #fic #fanfiction #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.

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theclaravoyant · 7 years ago

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It’s alright (it’s just the end of the world) - Elena-centric 5x18 Coda

AN ~ Working through some of my own thoughts and feelings about this whole “grey morality” thing I ended up with this fic and it turned out quite well, if I do say so myself (although I will warn you, it’s kinda angsty. no MCD I promise). Enjoy!

Elena reflects on her decision in 5x18 and what it means for herself, her loved ones and the future of the world. Elena-centric, Mackelena, Angst (but a little bit of hurt/comfort, I’m not *completely* merciless), Rated T. Mentions of Ruby, Fitz & Daisy including a brief 5x14 reference (all non graphic / non descriptive).

(If you want to know any more about the contents of my fic before reading it, feel free to shoot me a message.)

Title and quote taken from “Preaching the End of the World” by Chris Cornell.

Read on AO3 (~1600wd).

It’s alright (it’s just the end of the world)

Elena watched the tiny crucifix dangling from her mechanical fingers. It glinted like a tiny golden star in the dim light, but still she felt lost in a fog, unable to read its guiding signs. It felt wrong, holding it like this: without its shape against her skin, without the cool metal, warming at her touch.

Truth be told, though, there was not much else that Elena missed about her arms – her new ones could do most of what they had been able to, and they were stronger, faster. They made her better. Even though they still didn’t quite feel part of her yet, she’d found them easier to accept, knowing she still had the parts that mattered. What was the body, after all, if not a tool for the soul and the heart and the mind to work their purpose? Now, though, she no longer knew if she had even that.

It was not so much that she hated killing. She did, of course, but sometimes it was necessary. Sometimes, in this violent world, it could even be for the best. She had thought that was going to be the story of today, but the long – and tense – flight back to base had given her a little too much time to think over it.

She’d killed a scared young woman today. Not a little girl, not quite, but still that’s what it felt like as her memory played it back over and over. She’s a kid. Ruby had been crying out for her mother, begging for help. That was not the way of a ruthless murderer and, whether she had saved the world or not, what she’d done – that split-second decision – was only growing harder and harder to face. Harder still as, from the way Daisy had been climbing the walls of the Zephyr, and from the hushed conversations between her and May, Elena had gathered that Ruby’s story hit a little closer to home than usual. It had started Elena thinking: what if she’d just stopped another Daisy from growing up? What if she’d killed a scared young woman for no reason? Or worse – what if this was all mapped out already, every action and reaction, and Ruby’s violent death and the blood on her own hands had been set in stone long ago?

It was Fitz who’d blurted out on the way here – somehow in Daisy’s defense, though they were in the middle of a fight themselves as well – that Elena hadn’t saved the world. That she couldn’t have. That Ruby hadn’t been the Destroyer of Worlds, Daisy had. That time was an illusion, and our choices all pre-made. He’d gotten very quiet after that, and so had Daisy. So had everybody on the plane. The air had grown thick and heavy and dark with the terrible thought. Was it better to believe you’d chosen, of your own free will, to torture and traumatize a dear friend for the sake of strangers? Or was it, somehow, better to believe you’d been destined to do it, from before you’d even met?

Elena did not envy Fitz his dilemma – nor Daisy, who was in the somehow even more unfortunate position of experiencing it from the other side – and yet she found herself staring down the barrel of the very same gun. Saving the world was a messy affair, this she had always known, but now more than ever Elena found herself wishing that she could do more than just pray that’s what they were doing. Especially since she knew - she more than anyone else – that there’d be more lives on the line before the end.

She clutched the crucifix to her heart, and that helped. The feeling of her own metal fingers against her skin was new and strange but when she closed her eyes, she could seek out that old, familiar shape. This was not the original, of course – that was drifting around in space somewhere, with the body of another brave man lost to the world too soon. But Mack had gone out of his way to find one just like it, and to always make sure it came back to her, and through the love imbued in his efforts, and her own, the most important memories remained. She could recall her mother giving it to her for her quinceañera; the warm embrace of her family; the familiar feeling of her old church and the quiet welcome of a new one in the States. She could recall, though it felt something of a distant memory now, the comfort of knowing that God was watching over her, giving her the gifts to do good in the world, and the passion and the intuition to know what that was. She longed for that same passion, that intuition again… and if she could not have that, then at least the comfort, or something, to soothe this lonely, grieving ache that was, in a truer sense than most living humans had ever experienced, the weight of the world.

“Please,” she whispered, into the heavy air, squeezing the crucifix as tightly as she dared without crumpling it like al-foil. “Tell me, am I doing the right thing?”

As if in answer, there was a soft click as the door pushed open. Mack hesitated in the doorway, but stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice soft and low as if trying even now not to interrupt. “The others told me what happened. Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the question that did it, maybe something about the tone of his voice, but all of a sudden Elena felt the tears come at her in a rush. They were bitter tears – anger at not being able to defend herself against Daisy’s accusations; fear that she might after all be right; grief for the soul that was lost today. The soul she took. They were tears of frustration, of loss, and she held them back as best she could, feeling a little breathless with the effort.

“Do you think I did the right thing?” she asked.

“I don’t know if I can answer that,” Mack replied – reluctant, sympathetic. “I wasn’t there.”

There was no scolding to his voice, although there could have been. Perhaps there should have been. But it was not needed; Elena felt appropriately scolded nonetheless. She hung her head – and, seeing how lost she was, Mack offered;

“As long as you didn’t do it out of anger, or vengeance..?”

That’s the girl who took my arms.

Elena’s eyes snapped up to his face. Had they told him that part? Did it matter? That’s not why she did it, the timing was wrong, the feelings – all the feelings – She stood up from the bed, begging him to see.

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head, as much to keep that little worm of doubt from her own mind as from his. “No, I didn’t, I swear. I-”

“I believe you,” he promised her steadily, a little taken aback by the force of her desperation. He opened his arms, gentle and accepting, and Elena felt a little of that panic drain away. She pressed herself gratefully against his chest and he closed his arms, enveloping her and humming, a soothing and tuneless sound.

“Mi amor,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you right now, but… for what it’s worth, I don’t think we can ever truly know if we’re doing the right thing. We don’t know the consequences of our actions, or the consequences of those, or the consequences of those… We were never meant to know. You acted on what you thought was right in the moment. That’s all anyone could have done.”

Elena shook her head. “But- it didn’t achieve anything. Daisy’s the Destroyer, not Ruby. If I’d known that…”

“You would have what? Killed Daisy?” Mack pulled back from her a little, to look her in the eyes. “Elena. There are hundreds of thousands of choices between now and tomorrow, let alone now and fifty years’ time. Some of those are going to be hard. Some of them are probably going to be wrong. But who’s to say which? I know I can’t. Daisy can’t. Fitz can’t. Who’s to say that Ruby wouldn’t have been the Destroyer if you hadn’t done what you did? Changing the future and saving the world might not be mutually exclusive, you know.”

“I know.” Elena sighed, an unsatisfied sigh, and Mack pulled her back into his embrace.

“I know,” he repeated, in as much of a reassuring tone as he could. For all that he wished otherwise, Mack knew there was no truly comforting way to have this conversation, because for every reason such a thing might have been the right thing to do, there was a reason for it to be wrong. He knew that Elena knew more than she was saying about the future, but if her own knowledge wasn’t helping her then sharing it probably wouldn’t either, so he didn’t ask. He had faith in Elena, even if he couldn’t explain it, and even if she couldn’t see it herself. She would soon, he was sure, and if he had to he’d just hold her until that moment. Already, she was breathing easier, and that went a long way to soothing his aching heart.

Elena, meanwhile, laid her ear against Mack’s chest. She no longer felt as lost, or as guilt-ridden, as she had done while stranded alone with her thoughts, but there was still a nagging sensation of dread that would not leave. Knowing that Ruby’s death was not the end kept her on edge, and though she longed for nothing more in this moment than to lose herself in Mack’s embrace, she couldn’t help thinking about how every one of those strong and steady heartbeats, might still be bringing him closer and closer to his last.

#elena rodriguez #mackelena #yoyomack #yoyomacknet #aosficnet #aos fic #clara's fic tag #yo yo rodriguez #aos 5x18 #aos s5 #aos spoilers

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