Author's note:
Good morning/afternoon/evening/night! I hope you are all well!
Big thank you to grossly-sweet and Princess2016 who reviewed the last chapter! You two are the best! :D
I won't blabber on, I'll save that for the end!
Hunter awoke, then checked the time to discover that both he and Bobbi were still in bed, uninterrupted, on a Saturday at 9:20am. In the last few weeks, one of them had been called into S.H.I.E.L.D.—Hunter for his training and Bobbi for a mission—instead of either of them truly getting to sleep in. He wasn't sure if they were unlucky or if somebody had planned it that way, but it usually happened before eight in the morning. As he rolled onto his side, he hoped their good luck would stick with them and neither of them were disturbed today. He's missed spending a whole day with Bobbi like they used to quite frequently when she wasn't on mission. He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead, wondering why she hadn't gotten up yet, as she was usually up by now. "Good morning."
"Mmph."
Hunter smiled against her forehead. "Are you going to stay in bed all day? If so, I'll go get some snacks."
"Mmph." Other than the sound, Bobbi remained as motionless as before.
Hunter placed the back of his hand against her head. Normal. "Are you sick? Or just tired?" he questioned, concern lacing his voice.
She finally flipped over, lying on her back with her eyes still closed. "Mission was crap. Seventy-two hours without sleep, a lot of it running for our lives. Gonna kill Garrett." Her eyes opened. "His team was the one that had provided the intel. Bad intel. Awful, almost-got-us-all-killed intel."
"I like Garrett; he's the only one that lets me go on missions," Hunter replied, his arm draped over her waist. "Want me to kill him for you? So you don't get kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D?"
"Eh, Fury'll let me off," she muttered. "Oh, wait, he was Garrett's SO. So maybe not." She sighed grumpily. "The cockroach lives."
Hunter laughed. "I guess we're having a pyjama day," he declared before pulling the covers over her a bit more. He started to talk again but was interrupted by Bobbi.
"What's a pajama day?" Bobbi asked.
He looked at her with wide eyes, "You… you don't… It's when you spend the entire day in pyjamas. You stay at home, relax, watch movies and chill out."
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she lifted up the edge of the covers. "Yeah, but Hunter—you're not wearing any pajamas."
A heartfelt laugh left his throat, "Well, obviously I'll throw some on. Unless you wanted to do a naked day—but then we'd have to make sure all of the curtains were closed."
"I don't," she snorted.
Hunter leant away from her before sliding out of bed and opening a drawer. He grabbed some pyjama shorts—which he'd never actually worn before—and slipped them on before sliding back into bed. "Better?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Mm, I think I liked you better before," she teased. His only response was to place a kiss on her lips. "So, what did you want to do today?" she asked when he broke away. "Any specific movie? Or maybe we could have breakfast first. Another thing Garrett's op lacked—decent food."
Hunter smiled. "Pancakes? Waffles? Full-English breakfast? Granola? Cereal? Porridge? We can have whatever breakfast you want," he told her sweetly.
"I have a craving for blueberry muffins…" Bobbi said. "Do we have any frozen blueberries?"
Hunter raised an eyebrow, "Frozen blueberries… I don't think so, but I've found weirder things in the freezer."
She laughed. "Why do I feel like that was aimed at me? What weird things have you found in the freezer?"
"Nothing," Hunter replied with a shake of his head. "It might just be an American thing, ignore me."
"Tell me!" she insisted, genuinely curious.
He laughed, "Well, for starters, I've never known anybody to freeze fruit—so I'd never find blueberries in the freezer. Also, I am pretty sure some of the leftovers you've frozen were… not edible."
She looked flabbergasted. "You don't buy frozen fruit? Then how do you make homemade smoothies?"
"With fresh fruit, not frozen fruit," Hunter answered as if it were obvious.
"...then it's not frozen," Bobbi said confusedly. "We're talking like a Jamba Juice smoothie here."
"It's weird to freeze fruit, full stop. I've never understood that. Besides, it's fresher when it's not frozen," Hunter replied with a raised eyebrow.
"Fresher, yes," she agreed. "But not a smoothie."
"I was never one for smoothies anyway," he shrugged.
She shook her head. "You're not knocking it until you've tried one of mine."
Hunter raised one arm in surrender. "As you wish. I will try one of your smoothies."
"Then you can start some waffles while I shower. And then I'll make us smoothies and some blueberry muffins if I can scrounge up the ingredients," she told him.
"You don't need to shower; we're not going anywhere," Hunter spoke as he sat up and stretched his arms.
"I want to," she said. "I only took a cursory one last night before falling into bed. I think I still have dirt under my fingernails. But...you're welcome to join if you want…"
Hunter didn't hide the smile on his face. "Next time, I won't bother getting dressed," he said before sliding out of bed and removing the pyjama bottoms he put on ten minutes ago. "Ready when you are."
"Ready," Bobbi replied, sliding her legs out of bed and standing up. He walked up to her, one arm going around her back and the other grabbing her legs as he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He kicked the door closed behind them.
It was an hour later when they finally emerged from the bathroom, both wearing some form of pyjamas or loungewear. With the memory of their previous conversation, Hunter sauntered over into the kitchen and began pulling out ingredients for waffles and muffins; even though he wasn't the best cook, he was actually a pretty good baker—most of the time anyway. "Did you want me to just get out the blueberries for you? We have cherries in the refrigerator," he asked Bobbi as she walked into the kitchen not long after him.
"Yeah, just blueberries," Bobbi nodded.
He gave a swift nod as he double checked he had all of the ingredients out for both waffles and muffins. "We should have muffins and waffles at our wedding," he stated randomly.
She laughed. "Is it going to be in the morning?"
Hunter shook his head quickly. "Definitely not, no way… maybe early afternoon? Like, three-ish?"
"Sure," she agreed. "Then a reception around five."
"Sounds good," he agreed as he began throwing the relevant ingredients into the mixing bowl.
"Until when do you think?"
Hunter thought for a moment. "Eight? It depends what time we're leaving. If we're leaving the next day, we could just head to a pub, or home."
"I was thinking midnight. Maybe eleven. And no bars," she grinned. "Am I going to have trouble keeping the champagne away from you at the reception? You know the bride and groom usually drink apple juice or something instead, right?"
"Six to seven hours for a reception and you don't want me to drink? Where's the fun in that? I want to celebrate," Hunter said, flashing her a grin. He knew then that he would definitely be sneaking a few beers in if she was serious about not supposed to be drinking.
"Oh, you're right—that is seven hours. I'll never survive that. Okay, so nine o'clock."
Hunter nodded, "Okay, but we have to make sure it ends with a bang. I don't want people preferring the night out afterwards without us than our wedding."
She gave him a look. "Should I be scared of what you might mean by 'end with a bang'?"
"Just something interesting, nothing dangerous, I swear," Hunter said as he placed the waffles on a plate.
"I'm going to have to clear whatever this is," Bobbi rolled her eyes.
Hunter chuckled. "I'll start thinking of new ideas then. Ready for breakfast?" he asked, sitting down. He would probably have to make sure the end of the reception didn't have any actual explosions—he wondered if she'd accept fireworks.
"We're inviting a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents; I seriously doubt they're going to go out partying after. And if your family does—well, that's their prerogative," Bobbi told him. "But yeah."
Hunter nodded, right, his family. "My SAS buddies will be going out, so we need to make sure they don't have more fun afterwards; that's all I'm saying."
"Still not seeing how this is our problem," Bobbi laughed. She gave him a significant look over her shoulder as she headed for the table. "As long as we'll be having more fun after the reception's over than they are, I don't see why it matters…"
"It's about my rep… but we'll definitely be having the better time; I promise you that," Hunter said with a massive grin plastered on his face. "If you want, I can give you a demonstration now," he offered as he stood up and slid an arm around her waist from behind, kissing her shoulder.
"We literally just did that in the shower, Hunter," she snickered, brushing him off. "Come on, I'm hungry."
Hunter laughed. "I have something you can e—" he received an elbow into the ribs before stepping back and sitting down opposite. "Just saying. What are we going to do for music? Band or DJ?"
"Band?" Bobbi said. "I honestly don't really have an opinion on that."
Hunter nodded in agreement, "I don't we'd get away with having a CD player in the corner. A band sounds nice though."
Bobbi laughed softly, "A band it is. Are there any children on your end that you want to invite?" Hunter shook his head straight away. "In that case, I think we should make it clear that no children are allowed."
"We've already got most of the RSVPs back, I presumed it was anti-children anyway," he admitted sheepishly. He thought quickly through everybody he had invited, he knew that two of his SAS buddies had children. "I will call and double check on the children thing."
"It's not anti-children yet," Bobbi pointed out as she ate some more breakfast. "What kind of band would you like?"
Hunter's brows furrowed as he thought about that question, inwardly sighing. It looked like their carefree and relaxing Saturday was turning into a productive wedding-planning day. Bloody productivity.
It was later that same Saturday, and they were still discussing the wedding, honeymoon and other related plans. Hunter and Bobbi were relaxed on the bed, a glass of water on the side and a notebook in Bobbi's hand. "Hmm...we could get away with only ten tables for the meal part of the reception, which would leave a lot more room for dancing."
"Sounds good; how many people at each table?" Hunter asked.
"Eight, so first we need to work out who will be on table number one. That's our table, so of course it will be us two, both our parents, and then your best man and my maid of honour." Bobbi paused slightly with a small smile making its way to her lips. "You know, if Clint was your best man, he could sit with Natasha."
"Idaho is my best man and my bestfriend," Hunter stated firmly. His eyes were set on the pieces of paper around the imaginary tables. "Why don't we just put Clint and Romanoff on the same table anyway?"
"She's my maid of honor; she has to be on table one. Or did you want to kick your best man off the table?"
"No, Idaho is sitting next to me. Clint can just take the place of my Mum," Hunter said casually.
Bobbi looked at him, confused. "You don't want your mom… sorry, mum, on our table?" She couldn't work out why he didn't seemed bothered about that; she would be pissed if anybody suggested either of her parents should sit elsewhere.
"Yeah, why don't we each just… you can have Clint on the table and we can have… Isabelle Hartley on the table too." Hunter suggested, picking up the two pieces of paper neatly labelled 'Lance's mum' and 'Lance's dad' and put them to one side before putting the two friends he just mentioned on the table. "Wait, let's have Izzy next Idaho; I don't want Clint that close to me."
"Won't your parents be pissed being sidelined?" Bobbi asked. Something wasn't right. He hated Clint and was willing to have him on the table over his own parents? In the time she'd known him, Hunter had always seemed really close to them.
"They'd be happier near the bar," he moved their names and placed them on one of the last tables.
"Lance, what's going on?"
Hunter looked at her directly, but his eyes flicked away at the last second. He was about to lie to her. "They might not be able to come."
"You didn't invite them, did you?" Bobbi accused him, and when he didn't say anything she stared at him dumbfounded. "Why don't you want them coming to our wedding?"
"I do," Hunter replied, but then he hesitated. Something was going on and she couldn't work out what, which frustrated her. "They just might be busy."
Her feeling of foreboding was only growing stronger. "What could possibly be more important than their only son getting married?" she asked, but he didn't reply, just awkwardly looked away from her. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing," Hunter replied. "These seats aren't set yet, so… for now, Clint, Izzy, Romanoff, Idaho, us and your parents are on table one. Okay? Who did you want on table two? The other bridesmaids and groomsmen?"
Bobbi stared at him. He was changing the subject—didn't he realise they couldn't work out table two without knowing for sure who was on table one? But she groaned and went along with it, mainly because he actually looked upset for some reason. Was it possible that his parents didn't want to come to the wedding, or maybe couldn't? A bigger issue than simple rescheduling couldn't solve? Not that rescheduling the entire wedding would be simple at this point, quite the opposite...but if it meant Hunter's parents would get to be present she'd do it in a heartbeat. Bobbi had heard a lot about them, thought they were all really close—she couldn't imagine they wouldn't want to be there. "Yes, so, two bridesmaids for me and three groomsman…"
They continued with the wedding decisions, but she could tell things weren't quite right with him. At least one good thing came out from it though—he agreed to everything else she wanted without much of his signature sarcasm.
She almost missed it.
Hunter sighed, simply unable to sleep. Today had been one of the best in a while- he and Bobbi hadn't had so much time to spend much time together since he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. His idea of getting to spend more time together kinda backfired on him. He looked down at Bobbi who was asleep, knowing full well they both needed to get up in three hours, even though they were going to different bases. But he had to do this.
"Bobbi… Bob, you awake?" he asked, nudging her.
Bobbi sat up quickly at the nudge, glaring at him- she obviously knew there was no danger. "What?"
"I have to tell you something," he told her. Based on her facial expression, maybe now wasn't the right time. Waking her up was a bad idea.
Bobbi looked at him grumpily. "In the middle of the night? Are you dying?"
"No… never mind… go back to sleep," he said, changing his mind-now was really not the right time. She looked tired.
She ran her hand through her hair and blinked, propping herself up on one elbow facing him. "No, I'm awake now: what is it?"
Hunter cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well...you sure? It's… Maybe we could talk about it another time."
She gave him a look. "Spit it out, Hunter. You've already woken us both up; you might as well get it over with."
He nodded. "Right, just spit it out," he repeated. Maybe she was too tired to react. "My parents can't come to the wedding…"
"Okay, and that meant waking—" His words obviously hadn't gotten through to her yet.
"Because they're dead," Hunter interrupted her, having to get it out.
Bobbi's eyes widened as she looked at him with utter shock. "Lance, I…"
"I… I thought you should know, us getting married and everything," Hunter told her. "Which is why I'd rather not reserve any spots for them."
"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Bobbi asked him, sitting up fully and sliding closer to him, her hand taking his and lacing their fingers together.
He nodded. "Yeah… sorry I didn't tell you longer, I just…" he drifted off. She must have thought it happened recently, she'd be pissed if she knew the truth-but he couldn't lie to her; he didn't want to enter marriage keeping any secrets.
"How long has it been?" Bobbi asked him sympathetically, one hand massaging his shoulder as she kept her hand in his.
Hunter couldn't hide his guilty expression-he was sure he was going to get hit for lying. "My dad died when I was a kid and my mum died when I was nineteen… I made up everything I told you about them," he admitted, shifting away from her like he was planning on getting up from the bed.
She didn't let him get too far, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, Lance, I'm so sorry…"
"You're not mad at me? For lying?" Hunter asked, placing one hand gently on her back, not ready to fully hug her in case she was mad.
"Of course not," she whispered, hugging him tightly.
Relief filled him as he leant down, snuggling up to her, both of them were lying there for a while-a massive burden had been lifted from him. He closed his eyes, still not tired, just content. "Thanks."
"I love you."
"Love you too, Bob, so much."
She shifted, placing her head on his chest, but knew that she didn't fall back to sleep that night-and neither did he. They just laid there in each other's embrace until it was time for them to get up and go to work.
Thank you for reading! You're the best!
We have all of what Hunter says in British English and all of what Bobbi says in American English- at least, that is how it should be. I stared at pyjama, pajama, for ages earlier. But knew I couldn't change them all to pyjama, because my co-writer (Sanctuaria) would tell me off. But there was no way I was letting it go to pajama :P Haha!
I like this chapter, I almost named it the 'Calm before the Story'. Yes, you heard me, the Calm before the Storm.
I'll post soon!