Phil Coulson (agentofsass) wrote in the100, @ 2016-04-01 09:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, !storybrooke, flash thompson / agent venom (trn123), phil coulson |
Storybrooke: Coming Home
[Who]: Marshall Cole (Phil Coulson) & Edie "Swift" Holmes (bb Flash)
When; March 31 after the little kids soccer game
Where: Soccer pitch ; clubhouse
What: Cole's home from Afghanistan & comes to surprise his bff
Status: Completed log!
Rating/Warnings: R - sexy times / fade to black.
He'd gotten into Storybrooke yesterday and his mother had outdone herself with a welcome home dinner, like usual. There were a few new scars and another tattoo from his most recent deployment, but he also wanted to see some of his old friends. Which is how he found himself at a youth soccer game, coming up behind the young blonde coach after the final whistle blew.
"That last goal was offsides. Ref should have called it."
Edie was so caught up in the game, she hadn’t realized that someone had come up behind, let alone who it was. The voice made her jump, but the familiarity had her spinning around with wide eyes. She blinked a few times before a grin spread across her face.
“Cole!” She flung her arms around his neck in a tight hug before punching him in the arm. “You as-” She made a face, remembering where she was. “-jerk. When did you get back? If you say more than one day, you’re getting another punch.” She rolled her eyes, circling back to Marshall’s comment. “He saves those calls for my side. He hates it when I score.”
Marshall's face broke out into a grin. "Nice save," he teased playfully as he picked her up and swung her around. "Got into town yesterday and you know how my mom is. All fussing and everything. She mentioned you were coaching now, so I thought I'd surprise you."
Edie nodded with another eye roll. “Yeah, yeah. Food, food, and more food. You’d think the military didn’t have a budget for proper supplies the way she feeds you when you come back.” Looking back out towards the field, she shrugged. “Yeah, started awhile ago. Nothing like what we’re used to, but it’s something, right? At least the older ones aren’t just a swarm following the ball around.”
"You mean peewee mob soccer isn't your thing, Swift?" He teased, pulling a ball up onto his foot and juggling it, some skills still there. "Well, you know, MREs are nowhere as good as the real thing. And the army's meatloaf doesn't compare to mom's. By the way, she says you should come over for dinner sometime."
“Only if I get to be part of the mob,” Edie shot back with a fierce grin. Her head tilted as she took a step back to watch Marshall. Yeah, ok, maybe not as smooth as in high school, but still better than some of the kids on the current team. “Not bad for a Jawa,” she teased before raising an eyebrow. “Oh did she? While you’re still in town or just any old time?”
He caught the ball in his hands and tossed it at Edie. "Well, hard to keep up the skills when we're not practising three hours a day."
Marshall gave her a look. "Don't give me that. It was just some nonsense of 'Marshall, we never see your friends anymore.'" He shrugged before matching her eyebrow with one of his. "So, you free? Thought you could show me around, let me know what's changed while I've been gone."
Edie laughed as she caught the ball easily. “No three hour practices? What are they even doing with you in that place?”
Tossing the ball from hand to hand, she shrugged. “Who’s in town is always hit or miss anyways. It’s really the only reason the temptation of free food doesn’t have your house flooded 24/7.” She glanced back at where the coach was handling the kids. “Just have to collect the equipment and then, yeah.” She glanced at her watch. “But I can give you the tour in all of two seconds.” She waved a hand around. “Behold Storybrooke. The gossip changes, but that’s about it. Give it a few years and maybe something exciting will happen.” She cocked her hip, balancing the ball against it as she gave Marshall a head to toe once over. “A physical inspection though. That could take some time.”
"I don't know. Some crazy stuff about marching and crawling through the mud," he teased. It was a stretch, but he couldn't really talk about what he did when deployed, but Edie knew enough to know that it was grueling and he usually came back with new scars or injuries, each time a bit gaunter, losing what little baby fat he'd had.
He took a step closer and gave her a look. "You know, I'm free all evening," he commented, fighting the urge to just drag her behind the bleachers for a make out session. He hadn't had anything but his hand since his last leave.
Edie bit her lower lip, holding back a full out cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. Sure, there were issues she was keeping from Marshall. Sure, there were parts of their not a relationship that were more complicated than he knew. But damn, she remembered the first time he came back on leave and the surprisingly hot surprise of finding new muscles, scars, and tattoos. Plus, Marshall was plenty passionate on his own. Add in months of sexual frustration and… damn.... For a second, she went through her mental list of ‘private’ nooks around the field for a quick ‘inspection’.
But she needed this job… and who knew what shit she’d get if she didn’t check in and make sure Parker was covered for the evening… She bumped the soccer ball against Marshall’s chest before taking a step back. “I need to deal with these balls first and send a few texts, but… I should be wide open all evening after that.”
He caught the ball easily. "At least let me help you. With both sets. After all, I have my dad's car tonight." The '67 Chevy was parked not far away. It didn't make sense for him to have a car of his own, but he'd helped his dad with this one and whenever he was home, his dad let him drive it. Which was a bit juvenile, maybe, but it worked.
He grabbed the mesh ball bag and slung it over his shoulder before heading to pick up the cones. Of course, doing so meant running the gauntlet of soccer moms, some of whom tried to stop him for conversation. Eventually he made his way back to Edie, arms loaded with stuff. "So, where do you want this?"
Edie rolled her eyes, ready to say she didn’t need his help. After all, she had been doing this for awhile and she didn’t need a guy to do anything for her. But she did have very fond memories of that car and… well… him gathering up the supplies let her send a text to the Holmes house without too many questions. It took far too many texts back and forth, but she got things settled and a free night thankfully. Having to cancel now would leave her in a very grumpy sort of frustrated that wouldn’t get fixed until late tonight and would definitely not be as satisfying.
She’d just finished up chatting with the head coach about the game and scheduling when Marshall came back. Oh, she could think of plenty of places she wanted that. She scooped up some of his load, not listening to any protests, and nodded her head before turning and following. “We’ve got a supply room in the clubhouse.” She clicked her tongue as she shifted and booted Marshall lightly on the butt. “C’mon, pack mule. Yip, yip. Let’s deal with those packages of yours.”
"Your jokes still need work, Swift," Marshall said with a laugh as he bumped his shoulder against hers, heading towards the clubhouse that looked like it had gotten a facelift while he'd been gone. Once they were out of earshot of any parents, he smirked. "Oh, you'll ride something tonight, but it won't be a mule," he commented, knowing how much she preferred to be on top. Granted, it was how they ended up on the floor a lot.
Dropping the equipment in the storeroom, he leaned against the wall as he watched her. "So, seeing anybody new?"
Oh yes. Thank the powers that be for babysitters. Otherwise this’d be a very frustrating night. “It’s that nice Chevy, isn’t it? I remember that being a very, very sweet ride,” she retorted as she put the equipment away in its designated spaces. She didn’t care as much, but it was a pain in the ass when one of the other clubhouse users ended up ‘hiding’ their equipment because it got put somewhere it wasn’t supposed to. Well, ok, everything where it should go, except…
Grabbing the ball bag, she shrugged. “What’s ‘seeing’? I don’t have any plans lined up, if that’s what you’re wondering.” She smirked as she walked over to Marshall and leaned against him so she could reach the hook to hang the ball bag up on. So what if that wasn’t where it went. She had a moment to create here. “Other than some ride I’ve got tonight.” She raised an eyebrow as her fingers picked at a belt loop. “You?”
"Just want me for my dad's car? Juvenile," he teased, helping her reach the hook. Once the bag was out of the way, he gave her an appreciative look, knowing what she was up to.
"There's this girl called Betsy, sleep with her every night.." Marshall's hands slid along her sides, exploring the familiar body. "She always does what I tell her, so responsive to my fingers.. Think I might propose to her when I get back in the field.."
Edie shrugged coyly as she sidled closer, her hands pushing up his t-shirt a little to take a peek at those abs. “It’s a cool car. Can you blame me?”
Shaking her head, her thumbs dipped lower, strumming at his belt bucket and sliding under the waistband of his jeans. They should probably wait. It would be wiser to wait until they were back in his room. Or even just the car in a nice secluded space. But shit, she was aching for a preshow… “That’d give a whole new meaning to shotgun wedding,” she teased, completely ignoring any possible unpleasant thoughts in favor of snaking a leg around Marshall’s. “Mmmm… I don’t know about this responsive to your fingers business though. Maybe she’s biased or something.”
"Uh-huh, and maybe you're forgetful, Swift," he said, hands sliding down to cup her arse and pulling him towards her.
"Remind me."