A Good Memory Isn't Always a Good Thing
"So… You're telling me this guy quit his job, disappeared for 6 months, trekked across Japan, all just to form a huge "MARRY ME" using the GPS tracking data? Are you kidding me?" Skye asked in disbelief. She scanned the web article herself, just to make sure Jemma hadn't missed any facts out.
"Yes! Isn't it romantic!" Jemma sighed dreamily at her computer screen "Someone who's willing to travel seven thousand kilometres (okay that's 3000 miles for you, my dear American) for you, just to make you happy…"
"Um… Jemma, I'm pretty sure he did that trekking all on his own. And there's nothing that says his girlfriend was happy about it. In fact, if I were her, I would be pretty damned pissed."
"What? Why!" asked Jemma bewilderedly.
"Because! He up and left his job, just to do that, for six whole months! Think about it—if he really wanted to get married, wouldn't it have made more sense to save up for the marriage? There're a lot of things to pay for, aren't there? A house, the wedding…" Skye counted them off her fingers.
"But that's what makes it so romantic!" Jemma huffed, knowing that Skye was right but wishing she could be just a little less practical and realistic about such things.
"Well, he did it alone! If they had trekked across Japan together, maybe that would've been more romantic because they would have spent all that time together and at the end he could've revealed that GPS message and it would've been a lovely surprise! Frankly, the whole thing sounds ridiculous to me."
"What sounds ridiculous?" asked Bobbi, who happened to be walking by. She took in their frustrated expressions.
"Well, I was just telling Jemma here that it is absolutely ridiculous to propose to a girl by leaving her alone for 6 months and trekking across a country, just to spell out "MARRY ME"!" Skye explained, ignoring Jemma's half-hearted protest.
Bobbi laughed. "That does sound a little strange. Why would he do it alone? Wouldn't it have made more sense if they had done the trek together?"
"Ha! See, that's what I said!" Skye crowed triumphantly.
Jemma shook her head, muttering something about realists and practicalists and how some people couldn't appreciate romantic gestures.
"But come on, this isn't the worst proposal I've heard. It's a little romantic, I guess," Bobbi said, giving in a little to Jemma, "But it definitely isn't the least romantic one out there." She shook her head, her golden curls bouncing.
"Oh? Whatever do you mean?" Jemma leaned forward, her eyes glinting with mischief and curiosity. She had some idea of what Bobbi was going to share. Jemma and Skye propped their faces up on their elbows and watched Bobbi expectantly.
Bobbi looked from one face to another, and laughed. "Alright, alright. I said it wasn't the least romantic proposal because I'm pretty sure Hunter's proposal holds that title."
The girls' eyes grew huge and their lips tilted upward. "Go on," they urged, eager to hear more about the relationship they knew so little about. They had been curious for the longest time, had always wondered how these two people had ever gotten married when they never seemed to be able to stop quarrelling.
"Well… It's a long story. But basically, we were on a mission, surrounded by enemy fire, and had one or two close shaves. And you know how he is, how he says the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate moments." Bobbi shrugged. "So he said that after the mission was over, we should go and get married, so that our tombstones wouldn't look so sad and empty if we got hit by the enemy."
"What! He. Did. Not!" Jemma gasped at the same time as Skye exclaimed, "He must've been joking!"
Bobbi was amused by their reactions, and told them so. "Well… He was joking. I rolled my eyes at him when he said that. But the funny thing was, when the mission was over, we really did go ahead and do just that."
"No, come on, there must have been some romance in there somewhere!" the girls clamoured for more information.
Bobbi smiled, "There was. But in general we have a pretty lousy history of romantic elements. Like, the first time he said he loved me, we were in the middle of a fight."
Her superior memory was one of the things that made her such a good spy, but there was a downside to remembering every little detail, because years later, she could still remember everything he had said, word for word; she could remember the tension in the room.
"You know very well I can't tell you anything about it Hunter! How many times must I tell you that I can't tell you!"
"You could've died in there, you could've been killed—you almost were!"
"I was not," she yelled frustratedly, "There was an extraction team only two minutes away, and damn it Hunter, how lousy of a spy do you think I am?!"
"I never said anything of the sort. Here you go, putting words into my mouth again. I'm trying to be concerned for you—"
"I'm pretty sure concern has nothing to do with you wanting to know every little secret. I can't tell you Hunter, we've been over this!"
Lance rubbed his face in frustration. "You don't keep things like that from the people you love!" he yelled. "How am I supposed to live the rest of my life with someone who keeps secrets all the time—how can I live with you for the next half century if I can't even trust you, if you can't even trust me!"
His words rang in the apartment in the sudden, stunned silence. Bobbi stared at him, mouth forming a silent 'oh'. Lance met her eyes, and she could see the growing realisation of what he had confessed in his horrified eyes: he had basically told her he loved her and wanted to marry her. In the middle of a fight! He opened his mouth and closed it again, at a loss for words. He looked scared, and worried, as anyone would have after putting their heart out on a line like that; but he held her gaze, and after a few moments, the fear in his eyes was replaced by a defiance and steady certainty—he loved her, and he wasn't going to apologise for it. She could read this in his eyes, clear as day.
Lance searched her face for an answer, for any indication at all that she might feel the same way. He searched her eyes, desperate, and then his face fell and his eyes dimmed. He dropped his gaze and turned away, quarrel forgotten, closing the door behind him with a gentle click, leaving Bobbi all alone in the empty apartment.
"But it wasn't that I didn't feel the same way," Bobbi said quietly, lost in the memory. "It's just… I was more guarded than he was, and I didn't let my expressions show easily. It's part of being a spy, and it wasn't something I'd learned to switch on and off—at that time, anyway." She laughed mirthlessly. "Even if I could, he would probably have eventually thought I was just lying about it." She shook her head, her voice getting softer and sadder. "This, the inability to reveal my emotions at will, coupled with all the secrets I'd had to keep because of work, ate away at us, until one day there was nothing left but bitterness between us."
She blinked back the sudden tears and left the room abruptly, consumed by the pain she thought she had left behind, leaving Jemma and Skye in a stunned silence.
They found her later that night, seated by the bar with an empty bottle of whiskey and another rapidly emptying bottle of scotch. She hardly ever drank—it was important to keep her wits about her as an agent—but tonight, she just couldn't resist. Tonight, she just wanted to forget.
"Can we join you?"
Bobbi motioned silently to the empty stools. Jemma and Skye helped themselves to the scotch, and Jemma winced a little as it hit the back of her throat. She wasn't used to drinking much at all. They drank in silence, Bobbi downing a glass every so often as memory after memory came rushing back, and the girls nursing their drinks while they contemplated Bobbi's words.
"Drink with me?" It was phrased as a light-hearted request, but they knew Bobbi well enough to hear the silent plea, to know that she didn't want to be swallowed whole by her thoughts. So they acquiesced.
It didn't take long for Jemma and Skye to begin giggling uncontrollably and laughing at the most mundane things. In fact, Bobbi had had to watch them instead and make sure that they didn't fall off their stools, despite having almost thrice as much to drink as they had. Being a good drinker, it was part of the job. Everything was part of the job, she thought bitterly.
"Why –hic- did you even get married, Bobbi?" hiccupped Skye. "He proposed, but you didn't have to say yes—"
"Yessss… You two seem to quarrel all the time," Jemma cut in, "and while we can all see the sexual attraction between you two—" she burst into a fit of giggles, joined shortly by Skye, who prompted, "It's like sparks! Like fireworks! And it's almost vi –heeheehee- sible!"— "What… Why would you marry him?"
Bobbi's head was swimming and she was swaying slightly in her seat, but whether she had had lots of practice, or was simply a good drinker, her mind was still (frustratingly) clear. She knew exactly why she had married him, because she had thought about it over and over through the years. She gulped down the rest of her drink, the scotch silkily sliding down her throat.
"I married him… because I thought he would trust me after that. I thought he would trust that I wasn't keeping secrets pertaining to our relationship from him… thought that he would realise I loved him, that that wasn't a lie." She shook her head, a bitter laugh on her lips. "Boy, was I wrong. A piece of paper changes nothing."
Jemma pat her hand clumsily in a demonstration of comfort. "But," she frowned after a moment, "that doesn't quite explain why you were together in the first place? Does it?" She giggled. "I'm not sure I'm making sense anymore, Skye. Do I make sense?"
Skye nodded vigorously, then stopped, clutching her head and moaning and giggling. "My head is swimming…"
Bobbi watched them, wishing she could be as inebriated as they were. Surely that would ease the pain a little, or at least make her less conscious of it.
"Go on, Bobbi! Tell us." Skye leaned forward on her elbows, smiling sleepily.
Bobbi sighed and poured herself another glass, tracing its rim with a finger. "It was easy with L… Hunter. He has honest eyes, you know?" The girls nodded encouragingly.
"You just can tell what he's thinking, he's so easy to read. There's no hiding with him, I didn't have to wonder if he had some secret motive or secret intention, if he was saying something just to get information out of me—well, he did, but it wasn't for some ulterior motive. I didn't have to be on guard or cautious around him, didn't have to watch for clues that he was using me, because there weren't any clues, and he wasn't, he wasn't using me. I could relax," she smiled wistfully. "It was like going home after a long day, where home was a place I didn't have to pretend, and didn't have to be on alert. I'm used to it, of course, but… it was nice." Pain laced the edges of her words. "It was really nice."
"And that's why I fell in love with Lance—because he didn't have a hidden agenda for being with me. It was so easy with him." She took another sip. "And, well… after you get to know a person better," she stared pointedly at Jemma, "you know what every look and what every action means. And that knowledge just isn't something that goes away. It becomes part of you. That familiarity… sometimes it feels like nothing's changed."
Jemma nodded, knowing exactly what she meant, because she was so attuned to Fitz's thoughts herself.
"It's the little things…" Bobbi trailed off. She recalled how Lance used to tense up in his sleep sometimes, and how that would mean he was having a nightmare or flashback about his days in the SAS; she remembered how the right corner of his mouth would tilt upward a split second before he told a joke; she knew that he liked his eggs scrambled, not sunny side up. It's the little things that only I know, she thought, those are the things that make you mine. No, made, she corrected herself firmly. Past tense. The realisation made her heart sink, even after all these years, and she threw the rest of her drink back in a fluid gulp.
"That can't be right…" said Jemma slowly, her words melting into the next. Her voice brought Bobbi back into the present. "He's a spy isn't he! He must be able to keep secrets!"
"He's a mercenary," Bobbi corrected. "And yes, he can keep secrets, and I suppose he's not bad at that. But the thing is, I've always been able to read him, so to me, he's like an open book." She smiled sadly at them.
Jemma and Skye nodded slowly, realising how painful and difficult the relationship must've been for Bobbi and Hunter, and despite all that, how they still loved each other—it wasn't something that either of them could turn off.
"And he made me laugh," announced Bobbi suddenly after a period of silence. "He made ridiculous jokes at the most inappropriate times, and I always rolled my eyes at him, but… it was actually funny!" She laughed, and in that moment, Skye could tell how Hunter might have told those jokes on purpose, just to hear that laugh. It wasn't unlike what Ward did for her, she mused.
"Don't tell him that, okay? I don't want to encourage his jokes. He thinks he's funny enough," Bobbi rolled her eyes, smiling.
She turned to Jemma and Skye, suddenly serious. "But honestly… It's important to find someone who makes you laugh. We're going to grow old, we're going to grow fat, but laughter lasts."
She just wished it were that easy.
A/N:
First, that Japanese GPS marriage proposal is a real thing!
And kudos if you caught the Westlife reference ;) it's my favourite lyric.
Double kudos if you recognised the Adrianne Palicki (who plays Bobbi Morse/ Mockingbird in AoS) quote! :)