Disclaimer: Hey guys, still don't own D.E.B.S. That's all Angela.
A/N: I had planned to post the continuing chapter to this story, but it turns out the prequel wanted to be written more. You know what they say about the best-laid plans...
Make a Memory (The Prequel)
Barcelona, I decide stepping onto the back patio, is a beautiful place for relationships to flourish. For one, not too many government agencies are willing to leave their top agents in another country when absolutely no headway is being made – ensured by Scud as much as by the two of us. The beaches aren't exactly bad either, especially the one off the back of our house. They always offer plenty of sand, sun, and Amy in a revealing bikini, if it could even be called that. Pure and simple, it's a city of romance. Restaurants and little cafés litter every street corner and wonders of the art world are immersed with our everyday lives. A smile curves along my lips as I remember our first few months in Barcelona after traveling to several other countries to shake any tails. Amy had pulled me from one museum to the next while I set up the occasional day trip to Madrid, Córdoba, or anywhere else Amy wanted to go.
Remnants of our last visit to La Alhambra play across my mind as I stride barefoot down the patio steps to our private beach. Amy had pointed from one piece of architecture to the next and gaped in astonishment seeing some of the more prominent maqarnas. I'll admit they looked like the kind of paintings I would have been interested in 'acquiring' in the past. The fact that they were painted directly onto the ceiling may have been a small hitch. That and the retirement. A common place grin shows my pride of a whole year on the straight and narrow – well, the narrow.
I slowly surface from my musings and scan the beach line for the very girl I reformed for. Finally, I spot her lounging atop a towel on her stomach, the mini easel we just bought in Granada sporting a half finished painting of the surrounding landscape before her.
"Tenth one of the series?" I ask in greeting.
"It's only the fourth, silly." Amy shifts onto her side exposing her delightfully bare waist and the rest of the simple two-piece swimsuit she is donning. Her smile is still the most stunning of all. "I just can't get over this view," she comments, her smile broadening.
I stretch out beside her on the large towel and settle in close to not get sandy. A few fingers under my lover's chin, I direct her into a kiss just passionate enough to make us both light headed. "Mmhmm. Can't get over this view either."
An almost imperceptible, rosy tinge adds to Amy's cheeks signifying she caught the change in subject. "I think the view from here is better," she lightly responds, eyes catching mine and her lip rolling oh so tantalizingly between her teeth to purposely draw my attention.
"What, from here?" I ask and lean into another tender kiss. "Or maybe here?" I slowly trail up along the velvety skin to ghost my lips against her closed eyelids.
"Almost, but I don't think you're close enough to get quite the right view."
A grin splits across my features right before my hand encircles her back to draw her closer to me and farther onto the towel. "Am I getting warmer?"
She nods and opts for a moan instead when I capture her lips and add a gentle pressure to her shoulder until she's on her back.
Her hair, curly from the humidity, fans out from her face allowing a few tendrils to slip off the towel and rest lazily in the sand. The sunlight catches in the blue of her eyes echoing the sky above better than any painting ever could. She's looking at me with those eyes as if I'm the one creating that light when really I'm the shadow threatening to block it off.
"You look like an angel from this angle," she comments, her hand coming up to run through my dark locks.
The feel of her sifting through my hair is soothing, even more so when her palm brushes my cheek. She gives me the strength to honestly confide, "I feel more like a devil sometimes." Insecurity laces the statement and she picks up on it immediately.
Her eyes transform into a blue inferno, burning me with their passion and conviction, while her other hand moves to roam and knead at my waist. "You've saved me in every possible way and have every day since. If you aren't my guardian angel, no one is."
I quickly shake my head, her hand following the motion and slipping to my neck, and then grin at her lavishly. "No, you're mine."
She surfaces from the kiss I steal breathing heavily. "How about we call it even?"
"Fine by me," I audibly muse and rub my nose against the tip of hers. I can feel the breath from the mouthed moans she can't quite manage to vocalize sliding along my jaw and down the sides of my neck. It's the same heated breath that warmed my skin for the first time after the two chilling years spent in Reykjavik.
Her breath falters when our eyes lock, the gaze between them smoldering.
"Can guardian angels grant wishes?"
"I should say so; you've granted all of mine." I offer her a second Eskimo kiss and feel a delightful shudder throughout her body that soon transfers to electrify my hairline down to the tips of my toes.
When her breath returns to something resembling normalcy, she brings my lips down for a proper kiss and then grins. "I still have one wish left."
Stealing a few strands of hair, I watch intently as my fingers wind their way through the delicate silk. Catching her eyes again, I ask, "How do you figure?"
Her adorably bare shoulders shrug. "Well, art school in Barcelona was a dream that cemented in my head at age sixteen." She gestured to the beach around us and the easel with a smile. "The second is kind of obvious. That leaves the third."
"The second is obvious?"
She wipes all traces of her smile from her lips and brings a paint-dabbed hand to the curve of my cheek in a caress. "Nobody's a superhero. Nobody's a villain. We're just us."
Hearing my own words form on her delicate lips gives me a moment of awe. Words fail, breath almost following suit. "What... what's the third then?"
What's left of my thoughts is stolen as blue-surrounded irises light up with a smile. As if the answer is top secret, she closes the few inches between us and whispers it across my lips.
"Forever."
Love itself caresses against the sensitized skin of my mouth and even touches upon my tongue, but not even the ethereal feeling of her open-mouthed kisses can stop a question of a thought from wriggling into my mind.
I wonder how much it takes to buy out a bank?