“Look at me.” Bobbi leaned down and waved a hand in between Jemma’s magazine and her furiously reading eyes. That did little to halt her progress and only succeeded in Bobbi getting her hand batted aggressively out of the way.
“I’m trying to finish reading this article, it’s so fascinating! Apparently, a new method of--”
“Jemma, this is the first time we’ve been off-duty in months. You’re not spending all of it reading.”
“Don’t ‘Bobbi’ me, Jem. We are barely forty miles from HQ and there is a beach literally right in front of us. Put down the magazine.” Jemma finally glanced up to see her blonde counterpart with her arms flung out towards the sliding glass door separating the house from the short path leading to the beach. Sand and seagrass were being rustled gently just outside the glass by a light wind as the sun glinted brightly off of an ocean that sat no more than one hundred yards away. It did look nice.
“But I’m almost done reading.”
“Jemma, you have at least five pages left. I know you are a blindingly fast reader, but I also know you stop to think about every new fact for about seven hours. Come on!” Bobbi waved her arms again and bounced a little bit in place. While fun at HQ, away from work the field agent became a much more playful, excitable person. Her sheer enthusiasm for the beach was enough to have Jemma placing her article down and rising to go change into her bathing suit.
“Fine, but I’m bringing it with me.”
“Deal!” It only takes a second for Jemma to pull her bathing suit from her suitcase (Organization, Bobbi), change, and gather her beach supplies. Bobbi is waiting for her at the door with two foldable chairs and an umbrella. A long tank top obscures her choice of bathing suit, but Jemma allows herself a long look at the toned legs peeking out from underneath the shirt’s hem. Their owner definitely noticed the oogling, but chose not to comment aside from a tiny smirk.
“You read equally as much as me, shut up!” Bobbi laughed at her and hefted the chairs and umbrella haphazardly under her arms. They clacked against the doorway as she struggled to squeeze out without putting any of the items down. Jemma almost opened her mouth to offer help, but at this point it was a competition between Bobbi and the door. Bobbi ended up winning though, as she usually did.
They continued their short walk to the empty, private beach, funded entirely by Coulson’s decree that they needed a team getaway house without any other people around. He said it was for security reasons, but they all knew May had requested a place where she could finally do her exercises in peace and quiet. Jemma certainly wasn’t going to complain about the details. It was a beautiful little spot with pebbly sand and calm water. The way the dunes rose also kept it almost obscured from the house itself.
“Where do you want to sit?”
“Oh, that little patch over there looks lovely.” Jemma pointed to a small area of smooth sand that was just far away enough from the water that, if the tide came in, they would be dry. Bobbi lugged the chairs over to the sand and threw them down before turning to set up the umbrella. Jemma watched her going through the motions of jamming the umbrella into the sand and laying out the chairs just so and felt a swirl of butterflies erupt in her stomach. The sun was still shining down on them and falling gorgeously on Bobbi’s already tanned, well-muscled arms. It was like being on a private beach at the foot of Mount Olympus with Artemis herself and it made Jemma want to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the thought.
“How’s that?” The other woman said, turning around and dusting sand off her hands. She had to duck to fit under the umbrella and it made the butterflies in Jemma’s stomach kick into overdrive.
“It’s perfect.” Jemma said, stepping into the shade. She reached up and lightly brushed her hands along Bobbi’s jaw. The taller woman’s gaze was soft as she tracked Jemma mapping each tiny freckle on her sun-kissed skin. The hands were gentle and precise, adjectives that were just so Jemma. Bobbi’s own hands migrated down to smooth across her tiny scientist’s back. It was a wonderful feeling, especially in the distinct lack of clothes Jemma currently had on.
“I love your bikini.” Bobbi whispered, toying with the suit’s strings. Jemma sighed and leaned forward, enjoying the feeling of the sand between her toes and Bobbi’s fingers on her back. Her moment of peace, however, was violently disrupted when her toes left the sand and Bobbi’s hands were holding onto her backside for dear life. A small squeak ripped from Jemma’s lips at her sudden change of height. Whole body chuckles rippled through the Bobbi’s body as she backed out from under the umbrella, brunette held firmly in her grasp. The sun beat down on Jemma’s back, warming her while she wrapped her legs more firmly around Bobbi’s hips. A soft breeze ruffled the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, but that was nothing compare to the chills Bobbi’s hands were giving her. They brushed from her shoulders to her lower back in one constant, soothing motion. Bobbi’s face was buried so deep into the crook of her neck that Jemma could feel even the slightest exhale of breath.
“How?” She asked the ocean, hands reaching up to thread through soft blonde hair. Its waves didn’t have an answer for her, they just continued to roll against the shore in time with the deep breaths each woman was taking.
“What do you mean?” Bobbi murmured. She pulled back from Jemma’s neck and looked questioningly up at her.
“How did I get this lucky? After everything...” Their foreheads touched together and it was all Jemma could do to keep from bursting into tears. She smiled at the wetness in her eyes and the butterflies in her stomach.
“I’m the lucky one.” Bobbi tightened her grip and began moving backwards across the sand.
“That is so cliché, Bobbi Morse.”
“As if yours wasn’t.”
“My apologies.” Jemma giggled. Giggling was something new, something very Bobbi-induced. They kept moving backwards until Jemma felt her ride shiver on contact with the not-quite-warm ocean water. As Bobbi kept backing up, some very brave waves began licking at Jemma’s toes.
“Don’t you drop me!” Jemma squealed.
“Never.” Came the throaty answer. Jemma brought her hands back up to loop around her chariot’s neck. Soft kisses were placed along the inside of her arms in a multitude of patterns. It was a wonder that Bobbi had held her up for this long. Sheer willpower, no doubt.
“And here we are.” Bobbi was waist deep in the water, beaming up at her like she’d discovered Atlantis.
“Thank you for bringing me here safely. And dryly.”
“Well, I kinda owe you one.”
“Why do you owe me one?”
“For loving me like you do.” She said it so simply and so quietly that the waves could have swallowed up the noise. But Jemma heard her clearly and saw the soft light in her eyes. The sun was beginning to set on the water just behind them, turning blonde hair to molten gold. The molotov cocktail of butterflies in Jemma’s stomach erupted and she surged down to kiss Bobbi’s smiling lips. She pushed as far into Bobbi as she could, desperate for contact. A slight moan broke out of one of them when Jemma tugged Bobbi’s head back to lean down and attack her neck with a flurry of kisses. They were swaying around in the ocean on an empty beach and the moment was so perfect it should have been framed. Perfect, until an abnormally large wave leapt up from the surface of the water and smacked into them at full speed. An undignified screech tunneled its way out of Jemma’s mouth as they both wobbled and fell towards the water. Bobbi took the brunt of it, but Jemma still went under with her. For a second, everything was salt water and scrambling limbs. Then, they both found their footing, hair wet and askew, chests heaving from laughing so hard.
“You got me wet!”
“I’m more wet than you!” Bobbi laughed, reaching out a hand. Jemma took it gratefully and allowed herself to be lead out of the shallows. They trudged back up to their chairs attempting not to get sand stuck to every free bit of skin. Bobbi plopped down in her chair and began toweling off her hair with a stupid grin on her face.
“I owe you one, Bobbi Morse.” Jemma said, moving to stand in between those long, long legs.
“For loving me like you do.” Jemma laughed as she leaned down and caught Bobbi’s lips for the second time that day, but certainly not the last.