Title: The Tree Topper
Author: Alysia
Summary: A short Christmas one shot. Daisy and Daniel decorate their tree.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters familiar to Marvel.
“I have to admit, this tree looks much better than I thought it would,” Daniel Sousa said as he hung another ornament on the artificial tree before him. He’d almost been aghast when Daisy suggested getting an artificial tree.
Daisy Johnson bit back a satisfied smile. “What were you expecting?”
“Artificial trees looked different in my time,” he said with a shrug.
His companion looked at him with sympathy. How could she not? It was his first holiday season without his friends and family. “What did they look like?” She prodded, hoping to keep him distracted from the unpleasant topic.
“The most popular artificial tree was made of feathers.”
“Feathers?” Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Really?” As much effort as she’d put into her search for what Christmas was like in in 1955, she didn’t know much about the history of Christmas Trees.
A small smile broke out on his face when her brows furrowed in confusion. “Yup. They were…goose feathers that had been dyed green.” It was only after he’d explained that he realized how awful his description had been. “Don’t get me wrong, they looked nice enough, but nowhere near as authentic looking as this tree.”
“So, by your response, I’m assuming that you always have a real one when you were growing up?”
He nodded in response. “Second week of December, my father and I would chop down our own.” His last trek with his father entered his thoughts. “I hated it,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. Once he’d lost his leg, there’d been no trekking after that. By that time, his father hadn’t been in the best physical condition and there was no way he’d have been able to take one down and carry it home himself. “After the war and my leg...” he trailed off.
“Did you stick with real trees after you were out on your own?”
“I did, but by then I just bought one at a tree lot.” Memories of days long gone threatened to overpower him and he willed them away. “What about you?”
“Honestly, Christmas has never been a big part of my life,” she admitted, pausing in her decorating so that she could give him her attention.
“Never?” As much as he’d hated chopping and carrying the tree home, he found himself cherishing the memories of Christmas when he was a child.
“Orphan here,” she said, as if reminding him. “My time at the orphanage…the nuns did attempt to make the holiday special for the younger kids…and it worked for a while, but the magic died early on.” She remembered the exact day too. “I’d been placed in various homes over the years, but it never stuck. As an adult, I learned that it was because of SHIELD, but as a child, I had no idea what I’d done wrong for them to keep sending me back. There was one home that I…I really thought that they would end up adopting me. I even wrote Santa a letter telling him I wouldn’t ask for anything ever again if I was able to stay with them.”
“But you were sent back…” He assumed for her.
She nodded slowly. “I think that was when I gave up on the idea of Santa and the magic of the Christmas season.”
“What about when you were an adult?” He inquired.
“Until I joined Coulson’s team, I was living in a van…no room for a tree or decorating,” she excused before pasting an obviously fake smile. “And that’s my little tale of woe…” She said in an all too cheery voice.
He frowned at the way she intended to casually dismiss her ‘tale of woe,’ as she had put it. It was obvious that despite the years that had passed, she still felt the sting of the memories. “And after joining Coulson’s team?”
She shrugged. “We were always busy dealing with things and sometimes the others went home for a few days. We celebrated when we could and exchanged presents, we’d watch Christmas movies…but that was the extent of it.” Daisy reached for another ornament and turned back to the tree. “In all those movies…the baking and the decorating, and the cooking and just…all of it, I never really had it.”
He thought on the cooking classes that she’d signed up for and the baked goods that she’d surprise him with every week. “So, you signed up for cooking classes?”
“I’ve never hosted a holiday anything,” the Inhuman admitted. “And even if it’s just going to be you, me and Kora, I don’t want anyone getting food poisoning,”
“And that’s why you started baking…”
“People always give away cookies and assorted sweets. I just…wanted to spread a little cheer,” Daisy tried to excuse. “And as I recall, look forward to those brownies and cookies.”
He smiled at her. “I certainly do,” Daniel informed her. Before mentioning yet another thing she’d been a little pushy about. “And the insistence that we decorate everywhere?”
She shrugged. “Wanted to see if it would make me feel more merry.”
“And did it?”
“Not really,” she replied wryly as her eyes fell from his. “And I guess I was trying to distract you.”
He had to admit that he hadn’t been expecting her last revelation. “Why did you want to distract me?” Daniel asked as he closed the distance between them.
She turned towards him. “There have been a few times lately when I’ve caught you slipping into your memories and I just…” her eyes fell away from his and her head slowly dropped forward. She hated being this vulnerable, even with him. Even when she knew he would never hold anything against her or throw it back in her face later.
“Hey,” he said as he raised her chin with a gentle touch. “Talk to me,” Daniel implored softly.
She sighed dramatically. “I don’t ever want you to regret your decision to stay on with us,” she blurted then before she could stop herself.
“Never,” he denied before he fully processed her words. Regret his decision? “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you the impression that I do, but I don’t regret it.” From the moment that Agent Simmons gave him the choice, there’d been no hesitation to stay with Daisy. And while she’d been the main reason behind his decision, he’d wanted to stay with the team through their adventure. “Yes, I miss my family and friends, which isn’t uncommon this time of year, as you know,” he said, referring to her own difficulties being separated from the others. “My life his here…with you,” he said, taking both ahold of both of her hands.
“And you don’t mind that I’m not so proficient in domestic duties as I’m sure that the women in your time were?” She figured that even his he ex-fiancé, the nurse, was able to come home from a shift and serve him dinner. “I mean, we had Chinese for Thanksgiving. I doubt Sweet and Sour Chicken was on the menu for you back then.” She’d never been bothered by the fact that she couldn’t cook, at least not until the others left the Lighthouse. That was when the domesticity of her life with Daniel came to the forefront of her thoughts. The idea itself hadn’t frightened her, but her insecurity over being so inept in the kitchen had crossed her mind more than once.
“It was not,” he allowed then. “That was a first for me, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it,” Daniel tacked on. “I love all of you, Daisy. If you want to take cooking lessons for you, then I fully support that. But I don’t need you to, nor do I expect you to. I’m a big boy.” He’d prepared his own supper many times before.
She nodded feeling lighter than she had previously. “Thank you for the support, but I was serious before about not wanting anyone to get food poisoning,” Daisy responded as she pressed herself against him and offered him a sweet kiss. “I love you too, Daniel,” she whispered as she stepped away from him. “I have something for you, well, us, but I have to go get it. Keep decorating and I will be right back.”
Daniel nodded as she back away from him. He reached for another ornament then and did as instructed, all the while musing about her insecurity. There were days when his own insecurity threatened to get the better of him. After all, he was a man out of time. Yes, he’d done his best to catch up to the 21st century, but there were still occurrences that had him pausing in confusion. He was supposed to be the one wondering what the hell it was that she saw in him. He’d never considered she’d feel something similar.
“So, I found this at a small shop in town,” Daisy began explaining as she reentered the room. “On Thanksgiving when I was telling you about the tree decorating options that were popular these days, you seemed bothered by the idea of angels or stars topping your tree.” She extended the unwrapped box out towards him.
“Not bothered,” he attempted to backpedal as he reached for the proffered item. “It was just another reminder of how much things have changed.” He slid the box lid off and fell silent when he spotted an ornately decorated glass tree topper nestled inside of it.
She watched him eye the glass tree topper. “I did a little research, saw that these were more popular in your time,” Daisy informed him. “I thought maybe we could incorporate it into our Christmas traditions…I mean once we make some.”
He didn’t know if he was more touched by the idea that she done some researching on his behalf or by the item itself.
When he remained silent, she spoke once again. “Do you not like the design? The store had a few to choose from. I picked this one, but if you don’t like it, we can go back for a diff-”
“It’s perfect,” he replied, cutting her off. “Thank you, Daisy.” In the grand scheme of things, it was such a small detail, but he still appreciated the effort she’d make on his behalf.
“Hold it up so I can take a picture.”
He did as instructed and smiled for the picture.
Daisy looked the photo. “Perfect,” she muttered to herself as she looked at it. “One more,” she told him, moving to stand next to him. “Okay, 1, 2, 3,” she counted down. She felt Daniel’s arm wrap around her waist as he placed a kiss on her cheek when she snapped the picture. “You should put that up while I pick up everything else so we can watch a movie.”
“And what movie did you choose?”
“It’s called Home Alone. It’s about this kid, whom some argue is a young psychopath, that protects his home from a couple of burglars after he’s mistakenly left behind while his family is away for Christmas.”
“A psychopath?”
She shrugged. “It’s a classic. My night, my choice,” she defended. “I didn’t complain about your movie.”
“Yes, you did,” he immediately denied.
She pursed her lips and tried to bite back the guilty smile. “Just put the topper on,” she replied.
“Yes, dear.”
The End