Fitzsimmons

The Ocean

Quick Note: this was half-finished in my archives so I made it nice and fluffy with a touch of angst because let's be honest we have to prepare ourselves for this season

Also, look at Fitz in the promo photos for the next episode because I promise it will make you very happy.

This is so Seychelles fic
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"It's okay, isn't it?"

Fitz kicked at the sand with the toe of his Doc Martens. Maybe he would enjoy the sand and the saltwater spray and the distant street performer music if it weren't for his bitter childhood hatred of the beach. Ah, the beach. Full of squawking seagulls and sand that could end up in your pants if you weren't careful. The only good thing about the beach was boardwalk food, which was why Fitz had demanded they stand in line for half an hour for curly fries.

"Fitz, why don't you just take off your shoes and stick your feet in the water?" Jemma had become more and more impatient with him as the day went on. Jemma loved the beach. It was always a treat as a child, their entire family piling into a van and driving to the shore. One of the few times her parents would take a day off of work and really spend time with her. She loved feeling the water push sand around as waves rushed in and retracted beneath her toes. She loved chasing away seagulls and shouting at waves as they crashed into the sandcastles she used to make with her siblings. She loved looking for seashells with her mom and spending the evening riding the ferris wheel and playing carnival games.

"I don't like water," Fitz snapped back, then put his hands on his hips in that stupid pregnant woman pose he did.

Jemma understood, but she wanted their second date to be just as good as the first. She wasn't a big fan of heights anymore, but that didn't stop her from riding the creaky Ferris wheel on the pier as soon as Fitz suggested it.

She began untying her own shoes, hoping it would convince Fitz, then scrunched up her socks inside each sole. Then, after a quick glance over her shoulder, she rolled her jeans up to her knees and shrugged off her cardigan, unveiling the soft sun spots of her shoulders. Jemma knew Fitz had a thing for her freckles and other epidermal blemishes that he hardly ever saw under all the layers she used to wear.

Fitz's first urge, however, was to pull out his phone and take a picture, and catalogue her skin in his notebook later on. He was able to shake that thought from his head before he did too much damage. Sometimes he forgot that they were dating, that he could study her pale back for days if he asked, and he was always jolted by that reality. What did she want from him again?

"Fitz, if you're not accompanying me to the water, would you at least help with the sunscreen?" she asked politely, then smoothed white streaks down her arms.

"Yes please," Fitz replied eagerly, then scrunched up his nose and shook his head, which made Jemma laugh.

Jemma took the first few steps into the cold on her own, shivering and holding her breath. The water only reached to her mid-calf, but the cool current splashed up to her knees, and the pebbles beneath her feet were dangerously slippery. She enjoyed watching the tiny organisms pushing themselves around her ankles, though, so she walked further in, smirking as the water reached to her waist.

Fitz was sitting on an old blanket, eating the pita chips Jemma had packed for snacks and toying absentmindedly with the dry sand to his side, when he heard a shrill shriek. He'd never heard Jemma shriek before, only scream and sob and yell at him for leaving contaminated equipment out overnight, so the sudden shrill noise alerted him that something was happening.

The shriek was followed by a splash, and Jemma's head disappeared under the dark blue. Fitz was confused at first, still crunching the last pita chip, but as soon as he realized she wasn't coming back up, he threw the bag to the side and jumped to his feet. Then he kicked off his shoes and charged into the water, barely noting the temperature drop, only focused on getting to his drowning girlfriend.

Then her head popped back up, and she spit a tiny stream of water into his adorable, worried face. Jemma burst into laughter as Fitz put the pieces together.

"You're swimming now," Jemma pointed out before Fitz could whine. "Might as well stay in."

"I hate the water," Fitz insisted.

"Do you now?" questioned Jemma, followed by a splash to Fitz's face.

"You...!" he exclaimed, then returned the attack with a saltwater assault of his own.

"There he is!" Jemma replied with a stupidly proud grin that Fitz couldn't help but copy.

As her smile narrowed, she floated closer to him, intertwining their hands under the water and letting his body heat warm her up. "Listen, I know that the ocean hasn't been our favorite thing for quite some time." He nodded, smile dropping subtly at the memory.

"But I used to love it, and your mum says that you did, too. I'm just so proud that," she paused, exhaling a cloud of warm air across the cold water. "That we didn't let him ruin this for us. Because it has been so long since I've been this happy."

Fitz brought his stiff arms around her and beamed into her ear. "So the first date didn't make you happy at all, huh? Harsh."

She pulled away and splashed him once again, laughing like she'd never laughed in months.