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Slow like the sun sinking below the horizon, a sullen mood had settled over the cabin.
Two weeks should have been plenty long enough for a vacation. Fourteen whole days without so much as a peep from the rest of the team, with their cell phones turned off and the world blocked out completely.
For Fitz, it wasn’t nearly enough. Not when going back to work meant giving up all the time he’d been spending alone with Bobbi. He’d dragged his feet all day to avoid packing his things, scripted six different versions of an apology he could make to Coulson if they just happened to miss their flight.
Bobbi, however, was pragmatic and prepared as usual. Her suitcase sat at the foot of the bed, neatly packed and zipped shut. The only evidence left of her in the rented cabin was her toothbrush on the bathroom counter and her singing echoing down the hallway.
She sounded so lovely, so happy and carefree that it made his chest ache.
Here, Fitz had been able to watch her guard come down. Bobbi had always captured his attention just by walking into a room, but away from the stresses of work he’d seen a different light come into her eyes.
Her usual poise unraveled more each day, exposing a woman who sprawled out and snored when she slept, who tore into packets of crisps like a starving raccoon, who smiled so brightly it was almost blinding.
Fitz wasn’t ready to say goodbye to that version of his girlfriend just yet.
He gave up on cramming another jumper into his luggage and kicked his trainers under the bed, walking out to the kitchen in his socks. An act of rebellion, really; the longer he stayed in his comfortable clothes, the more he could pretend things weren’t about to end.
Bobbi had her back to him when he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, her blonde hair shimmering in the dim light as she swayed her body back and forth. One of his t-shirts hugged her frame, a pair of thick wool socks covering her leggings up to mid-calf.
Her hands were busy stirring something at the stove, her voice slightly off-pitch as she sang along to some acoustic track playing from the bluetooth speaker perched on the counter.
He stepped closer and reveled in the idea that even though she must have known he was coming, not a hint of tension gathered anywhere in her body.
This was Bobbi at her most relaxed, and he desperately wanted to keep her that way.
“Did you finish packing?” she asked without turning around.
“Nearly.” Fitz eliminated the distance between them with careful footsteps on the polished tile, hands braced on his girlfriend’s waist. “We can’t all be as prepared as you.”
She looked over her shoulder then, smile curving her mouth.
“You’re stalling.”
His fingertips curled into the cotton at her hips. “Am not.”
“Leo,” Bobbi sighed.
He heard the click of the stovetop knob and then she was facing him, arms draping over his shoulders. Fitz almost, almost let out the argument clinging to his tongue, but Bobbi’s forehead rested against his and snuffed out all of his fight like a gust of air to a lit candle.
“M’not ready,” was what he said instead.
Vacation had been a lovely time for just him and Bobbi, to see all of her layers unfurl so naturally, but he’d be lying if he said that was the only reason he wanted more time in their little cabin.
Away from the worried eyes and hushed tones, talking about him as though he’d lost his hearing as well as his mind. Like he didn’t know that they thought he wasn’t capable, that his mental issues kept him seconds from cracking open at any given moment.
Everyone treated him like a human powder keg with a match in his hand.
Everyone except Bobbi.
Her fingers brushed through the short hair at his nape, sending a shudder rippling across his shoulder blades.
“We have a job to do,” she reminded him, the words gentle and resolute in the same breath. “They need us.”
Fitz closed his eyes. “Need you, you mean.”
“We both know your phone is going to blow up when we get back to service. Should we take bets on how many voicemails Simmons has left you?”
“That’s not—“
“The point?” Bobbi tugged back slightly so that when he opened his eyes, he was staring right into hers. “It’s exactly the point. I don’t need to run through your list of accolades to prove that.”
His insides twisted and rubbed together like sandpaper. Guilt had always felt gritty in his gut and in his heart.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “But I believe in you. You know that, don’t you?”
He did.
Science, mathematics, those had been the only constants in his life before. Even his friendship with Jemma had become tumultuous and burdened with secrets and the stress of working for S.H.I.E.L.D. They were his family, sure, but even their faith in him had wavered with his brain injury.
Bobbi’s pure, unabashed confidence had never wavered. Not once.
Not when the darkness crept out of his soul and forced its way to the surface and not when he’d nearly died trying to contain it.
So yeah, he knew. He didn’t need to tell her that.
“I love you,” he said instead.
She smiled, sunshine in the middle of a fog. “And I love you.”
Behind them, the speaker on the counter started to play a song he recognized for once. He couldn’t name the artist or even the title, but he knew it was happy and that it was one of Bobbi’s favorites.
Against all of his instincts, Fitz took her hand and spun her away from the stove, to the middle of the kitchen floor where they could dance properly.
“Leo,” she laughed, swaying with him to the upbeat acoustics, “What is this?”
“Distraction. Is it working?”
Bobbi nodded, her smile never fading as they shimmied back and forth together. Their socks struggled to keep purchase on the slippery floor and his fingers clenched around hers maybe a little too tight, but she didn’t seem to mind.
They stayed close even when the song transitioned out into something slower, a melody that had Fitz cradling her against him with his hand at the small of her back.
“I’ll finish packing after dinner,” he murmured into her ear. “So we can go home.”
Bobbi’s answering murmur held a teasing note. “First dancing and now giving in without even an argument? Who even are you?”
Fitz leaned his head against hers, eyes fluttered closed to commit every facet of the moment to memory.
He wasn’t really ready to get back to work; to watch Bobbi clam up in her role as an incredible super spy, or to pretend not to hear the whispers around him in the lab. He’d much rather have carried her off to bed and persuaded her to stay tucked away in the woods with him for another day, another week, a year or more.
Discomfort and fear were things he could learn to live with, though. With Bobbi’s belief in him, Fitz was fairly certain he could do just about anything.
“Yours,” he told her. “I’m yours.”