It was strange. In all fairness, Jorge never thought he would allow himself to be this close to the ocean ever again. A few years ago, the waterbending mutant had been nearly fatally shot during an undercover operation that had taken him out to sea. Truly he thought he could have been safer. but the gun that whipped out towards him, the squeeze of the trigger, the crack in the air, and before he knew it, he was falling over the edge of the boat, a bullet lodged in his chest.

That should have been it for Jorge Cervantes. His story was supposed to have been completed. But it seemed the man was too stubborn to even allow the Grim Reaper to drag him away into the afterlife. Instead of sinking into the sea, Jorge became it. He allowed himself to split apart, to become water in hopes that he could reconnect with himself, reform and be fully healed. But that wasn’t what happened.

Too much water. Spread too thin. Jorge lost himself in the ocean. He drifted as particles for years until slowly he gained enough strength to reconnect every drop. It took time. It was agonizing. And at the end of the day, once he was on dry land, he didn’t want it to happen ever again. He had even been wary of being near water after that.

Over time he managed to shake most of those feelings off. Sure he was still cautious around the water, in this particular occasion, he had a more and sufficient distraction.

He looked out across the water and smirked. The pearl-white sailing boat was sitting in the middle of the open, crystal blue water somewhere off the coast of South America. He was dressed simply in a pair of white long shorts that hung down to just above his knees, wearing an unbuttoned hawaiian shirt, the detective and X-Men stood under the beating sun, letting it crisp his bare, already tanned skin. Through his sunglasses he smirked at the boat standing in the middle of open water and slowly made his way towards it.

This was his honeymoon and, being such, he was in a particularly good mood to show off. As he made his way back towards the boat, it should be pointed out that he was actually walking atop the gently undulating surface. The water thickened and hardened under his footfalls, allowing him to stay upright, granting him a divine-like ability to walk upon the water.

Pulling his hand from his pocket, he smirked as he looked down at the silver ring that sat upon his finger. It was simple. A band of silver that was shined and polished to a practically mirror-like sheen. Though it couldn’t be seen on the outside, inside he knew the words that were engraved, or rather, the name “Gemma’s”. Because it was true. He belonged to her -- and she to him.

As he made his way back towards the boat, each step spitting in the face of physics, he smirked as he spotted the dark figure standing at the railing. Gemma was already waiting for him. He chuckled as he jogged up, keeping in mind the effects of her adapted field, but still out far enough that he wouldn’t be affected.

He gave her a wave. ”Why Mrs. Taylor-Cervantes!” he called out. ”What’re you doing up? You’re on vacation for the first time in...ever. Shouldn’t you still be in bed?”

Still chuckling he continued to walk towards the boat and made ready to will the water to carry him the rest of the way onto the deck and to where his new wife awaited his return.

Gemma used to have dreams like this. Not the kind where she was on an exotic honeymoon, on a sailing ship on the azure sea, wearing a swimsuit and a colorful scarf wrapped around her hips. Those were daydreams, things girls liked to picture when they thought about getting married one day. They were nice, and sometimes, like this time, they did come true. But there were the other kinds of dreams as well: The dreams of the five years she had spent thinking Jorge was gone. In those years, she had dreams of him walking to her, out of the ocean, with a smile on his face. Back then, she woke up every time with her heart aching from those dreams. This time, it was real, and it almost broke her heart in a whole different way.

>>”Why Mrs. Taylor-Cervantes! What’re you doing up? You’re on vacation for the first time in...ever. Shouldn’t you still be in bed?”

"I could ask you the same, dear husband" Gemma smiled as Jorge walked on water like some kind of a deity. When they first decided to elope, and go on a honeymoon to an island, she was worried the ocean would bring back bad memories for him. So far, he seemed happy and content. And not afraid of running around on the ocean surface. "The bed felt empty, so I went to look, and found out that you decided to go for a walk" she added, stepping back from the side of the boat so that he would not hit her aura and sink when he tried to board.

A broad smile crossed the detective’s face as he looked up at the face of his wife. His wife. It was still funny to even think of it. To know that they had finally done it. They had gotten married. And there weren’t any superpowered criminals there to break up the event, he hadn’t been called in to solve a murder, it was just completely and utterly normal. The kind of day that would forever live on in his memory as the most perfect day that he could have ever hoped for.

They were married. And he was ecstatic.

Chuckling he had called out to his wife, inquiring as to why she was sup. When he had stepped out of the cabin, he could feel the call of the water around him. That was why he hopped off the deck and took that stroll. Not to get away from the woman he had just married, but to stretch his legs and, possibly, get used to being around the ocean again.

>>"I could ask you the same, dear husband...The bed felt empty, so I went to look, and found out that you decided to go for a walk"

With another grin he walked to the far side of the boat from where she was standing. She was stepping back to ensure that he wouldn’t get caught up in her aura. It was a move that he had greatly appreciated. Of course, just to be extra cautious, he took a few more steps away.

”Sorry but you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.” He grinned. ”Besides, I just wanted to stretch out my…sea legs.” A hearty laugh followed. He liked puns.

But that was enough galavanting around the ocean for now. As he made his way to the boat, Jorge twisted his wrists and the waters responded, rising in a column beneath his feet. Once he was level with he edge of the vessel, he calmly stepped off and turned as he turned towards the lovely woman dressed in only a swimsuit and scarf around her waist. All he could do was shake his head as he approached her.

”Wife…” he said as he stepped closer. He could feel the call of the water immediately mute the second he was within her aura but he didn’t care. His arms wrapped around, pulling her closer to him as his lips found hers. Leaning back, he smiled as he gave her another appraising look. ”...you know, if you continue walking around our honeymoon in just that…” He smirked devilishly. ”...I will not complain in the slightest.”

>>”Sorry but you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you. Besides, I just wanted to stretch out my…sea legs.”

Gemma leveled a glare at her husband from across the boat, as he stepped on board with the help of his powers, grinning all the way.

"You should feel ashamed of yourself."

He did love a good pun. And good puns were usually the ones that earned a pained groan from the audience. Especially if they were as obvious as the one hehad just made. Gemma sighed, not able to control her smile for long, as he walked up to her, the water falling away.

>>”Wife...you know, if you continue walking around our honeymoon in just that...I will not complain in the slightest.”

Gemma smiled as Jorge held her and kissed her. It was all too perfect, something that people would post on Mustagram, but in this moment, she was willing to roll with it, because it was their moment, and theirs alone.

"Well, we are on a sailing boat" she clarified as she looked up at him "And as far as we know, there is no one on that island. Which means, I can dress however I damn well please." she concluded with a grin "... and it also means you will have to do a lot of many things. Like, make fire."

Jorge smirked in reply. ”I know, I really should,” he said. He walked up to her, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her closer. As he looked down, a devilish twinkle caught his eye. In a soft voice, he whispered, ”But I really don’t.”

His lips found hers. Her smile was all he needed these days. Admittedly he had been worried that something was going to go wrong. A lot of things went wrong whenever they tried to have “us” time together. Mutant gangs, demented fruit, vanishing for years on end, etc., but he was actually glad that most things seemed to be running smoothly. He only hoped that it stayed that way. And he wasn’t going to stress about them anyways.

He was with the woman he loved. There was no Syndicate. No dimensional rift. No evil clones. This right here was all that mattered.

When their lips parted, he looked down at her, his hands gently stroking her sides. This was a side of her that the school staff never saw. The sexy guidance counselor that drove him absolutely crazy. He was glad, and counted himself lucky, that this was just for him.

>>"Well, we are on a sailing boat...And as far as we know, there is no one on that island. Which means, I can dress however I damn well please... and it also means you will have to do a lot of many things. Like, make fire."

He chuckled heartily. She was right. They were alone. The island was isolated. Gemma could definitely dress however she damn well pleased. He certainly wasn’t going to argue. The island was a little chunk of paradise. White beach, tall palm trees, and not very large. they could probably walk it’s entire circumference in less than a day. It was perfect for them.

Shaking his head he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers once again. ”Oh, I think I can stir some embers,” he grinned. God he loved this woman. Truly he hoped this trip would go as well as they deserved. He pulled away, his lips finding her forehead before he nodded to the beach. ”Care to weigh anchor? Take a look around?”