Life Has a Funny Habit to Surprise You

A/N: Remember that after Love in the Time of HYDRA there was this "impatient boyfriend Grant Ward" gifset going around, which had all these different, amazing, fluffly little headcanons attached to it? Yeah, well when this little craze was at its highest, ticklish-super-spy asked me to write a story based on one of them. And since it's her birthday (well, her birthday is on Wednesday, but I thought it was today, and finished this piece, and now I'm not gonna wait three days to post it), here it is! Happy birthday, darling!
Rating: K+
Word Count: 2388
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.]

Grant let out a weary sigh as he dug into his pocket searching for the hotel keycard. He was more than ready to call it a day. They had a guy under surveillance the whole day, hoping he would lead them to a bigger fish who was dealing with Asgardian tech, but he picked their scent up the worst possible moment, trying to flee, and forcing them into a confrontation. The mission was success in the end, and they even managed to catch both men, but it really drained the whole team – not to mention that May managed to get a nasty black eye, but that was the worst of it. Really, all he wished for now was a quiet dinner, then falling into bed, cuddle up to Skye and sleep for a solid eight hours. God bless Coulson for renting them hotel rooms for the night.

He knew something was amiss the moment he stepped into the room. With a growing feel of unease setting in the pit of his stomach, he looked around the airy, light room, and closed the door behind him, half expecting hostiles waiting for him there, ready jump forward and attack. But no – the room was empty.

Too empty.

He'd left Skye here when he went to Coulson to go over the details of today's mission with him. She'd been feeling a little under the weather for the last couple of days, and even though she spent almost the entire day in the surveillance van, staying out of the actual action, the mission drained her the most. By the time they got to the hotel, she was already almost nodding off, so Grant insisted she took a nap while he spoke to Coulson. He even helped off her shoes and pants, and tucked her in before leaving, pressing a kiss against her forehead. He was half-sure she'd already been asleep when he left.

And now she was gone.

The bed had clearly been used, the sheets left a mess where she'd lain. A quick check confirmed that her beige bag with the butterfly pattern was still there next to his black duffel, but her purse was gone. There weren't any signs of struggle.

He took a deep breath – there was no reason to get himself worked up. She must have just stepped out – but then why hadn't she left him a message? Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he checked for missed calls or texts – but found none. As the next attempt, he tried calling her – it rang three times, then went to voicemail.

He cursed under his breath, his irrational panic rising despite his best efforts.

He looked around the room one more time just to be sure, but the hotel stationary on the bedside table was untouched, and he didn't find any other kind of written note either.

He tried to keep his mind from jumping to crazy conclusions – like that the mercs of the guy they caught today came in and snatched Skye while she slept (although why would they take her purse, he had no idea) – but it didn't really work, so he tried calling her again.

This time the connection broke after one ring, and he was just about to try again when the door opened and Skye walked in.

"You can stop calling me, I'm here," she said in lieu of greeting, waving her phone in the air in a somewhat annoyed manner.

Grant was there in front of her in a blink of an eye, throwing his arms around her, pulling her close and burying his finger in her hair in relief.

"I'm happy to see you too," she chuckled into his neck.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked once he pulled back, maybe a little bit harsher than he intended – and it was confirmed by her narrowing eyes as well.

"Maybe you want to try this again," she said crossing her arms in front of her chest, which had him take a step back and scratch the back of his neck.

"Sorry, I was just freaking out a little." He sighed, then added, now in a much calmer tone, "Where have you been? I've been worried."

Skye let out a long breath, her shoulders falling slightly forward.

"I was just down across the street in the drugstore," she answered, stepping past him and walking to the table at the middle of the room. "But I really need you to stop freaking out," she continued, her tone suddenly nervous as she placed her bag on the tabletop, avoiding looking into his eyes, "because I am barely holding it together, and if you freak out, I'm going to totally lose it."

It didn't help at all to calm him.

"Skye?" he asked cautiously, following her to the center of the room. "Is everything okay?"

She tossed her hair back in a little nervous gesture.

"Yes. I mean I think so. I don't know." She sighed, turned her back to the table, bracing herself on the tabletop. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, she looked into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. "I started thinking after you left, about what's been going on with me – the drowsiness, the nausea, the dizziness –, and I think I've figured out what's been causing it."

He blinked with a settling unease in the pit of his stomach. It didn't sound good.

"And?"

She bit her lower lip and turned around, taking something out of her bag and holding it up, showing to him – it was a small, pink cardboard box, and it took him a moment to actually recognize what he was seeing.

A pregnancy test.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked, his voice a bit higher than he would have liked to admit.

"I don't know," she answered, her gaze fluttering away from his. "I guess so. I mean it only makes sense. The symptoms match, and it's not like we have been that careful lately. But I still need some kind of confirmation. Hence this," she said, shaking the box in the air.

Grant nodded, more than a little dazed by the new turn of events.

"So you are going to take the test?"

Skye rolled her eyes.

"No, Robot, I'm going to keep it in my bag as a good luck charm," she snarked. Okay, his question was a little stupid in hindsight.

"Sorry, you're right. " He reached out, getting hold of her free hand, anchoring himself. "Are you going to take it now?"

She looked up at him and took a step forward, tucking herself under his chin and sneaking her arm around his waist.

"There's no point in waiting." She pulled away slightly and tilting her head backwards she looked into his eyes. "But promise me something?" He nodded. "No matter what the results are, you'll be here for me?"

He just pulled her closer and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"Of course – through thick and thin." He hesitated a little before continuing. "But what do you want?"

She let out a tiny chuckle.

"You know they say that if you are unsure about something, flip a coin, and depending on how you feel about the result, you'll know what you really want? Well, I'm about to flip my coin."

He smiled at that and hugged her again.

"Okay," he said, "Let's do it!" And with that he gently started to lead her towards the bathroom.

Only Skye stopped.

"Where do you think you are going?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Grant, not sure what to say, just made a vague gesture towards the door of the en suit. "Oh, no. I love you, but I'm drawing the line at letting you watch me pee on a stick. You stay here. I'll be out in a couple of minutes." And with that she gave him a fleeting kiss and the lips, then walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself, leaving him out there, alone.

Suddenly, he had no idea what to do with himself. A ball of restless energy was playing ping-pong in his chest, and he desperately needed an outlet for it. Also, he needed answers. And a plan. And Skye's gentleness to keep him from combusting.

He wouldn't lie – he was scared. Skye getting pregnant was so not on the agenda (well, at least not for now; ha was not ashamed to admit that yes, he had daydreamed about the two of them starting a family one day), and he had no idea how to handle the situation. What would it mean to them if she was pregnant? How would they incorporate the baby into their lives? It wasn't as if they just could turn their backs on S.H.I.E.L.D., not now. But then again, he was sure the team would stand by them. And Skye could just withdraw from the field, going back to being an analyst, at least temporarily.

And what's worse: what if she wasn't pregnant? What would it mean to them? Would it crush her? Would it prompt her to suggest they actually start trying? Wait – would it prompt him to do the same?

Maybe. Damn it. He was starting to like the idea of having a baby. A little girl, maybe, with dark hair and dark eyes, half him, half Skye. A happy baby girl, always smiling, being oh so loved. Actually, it would be nice. And it wasn't as if, like he once told Skye, there was a good time to do these kinds of things – falling in love, having a baby.

But what if she wasn't pregnant and she'd feel relieved by it? What if she didn't even want a baby, not now, not ever? That would actually… crush him, really. He had gotten so enamored by the idea of having a family with her.

Damn, he was in trouble. Deep trouble.

How long had she been in there? Shouldn't she have come out by now? Anyway, how long exactly it took these kinds of tests to work?

He walked to the bathroom door and raised his hand to knock – but then changed his mind. No. He'd just upset Skye with his impatience. And she really should have avoided being upset – it wasn't supposed to be good for the baby.

Damn. He was going there again.

He raised his hand again – after all, she might needed him, for, like, moral support, but she was just too stubborn to ask for it –, but then the door opened, and she stepped out, clutching something in her hand, her eyes suspiciously red-rimmed, but she smiled slightly when she looked up at him.

"Please, tell me you weren't just about to knock down the door."

He let his hand fall and looked at her, smiling slightly, guiltily.

"I just wanted to ask if you were okay," he told her, which, after all, was the truth. "What does it say?" he asked quietly, nodding towards the white stick in her hand.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Well, it has two rather definite pink lines, so I think it's pretty safe to say it's positive," she shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal.

It was like a balloon of happiness was popped inside of him, filling his whole body with pleasant, happy little tingles. Before he could have comprehend what he was doing, he had his arms around her waist, lifting her up and twirling her around, making her squeal.

"Put me down!" she laughed. "You are going to make me sick!" He complied, placing her back on the floor, but still not letting go of her. "I take you are happy with the news."

Then he did the most clichéd thing he could have done: he dropped to his knees, lifted her shirt and kissed her belly just above the hem of her jeans.

"Hi there, little one," he whispered against her skin. "It's your daddy. I'm so happy that you are here."

He could feel Skye's abdominal muscles contract as she laughed.

"You know it must be like, I don't know, the size of a pea right now, and can't hear you, right?" she asked, burying her fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp.

"Hush, I'm having a conversation with our baby." His words had her laughing and hug his head against her middle. It was an awkward position, but he didn't mind it the slightest. They stayed like that for a little longer, his face against her skin, inhaling in her scent, listening to her heartbeat.

"It's gonna be a feast telling Coulson," Skye said after a while. "I guess he's gonna freak out. And then he is going to go out to buy Captain America onesies. And Jemma? Jemma's going to be beyond herself."

Grant stood up, chuckling. He took her hands in his – she still had the test clutched in her right hand –, and kissed her.

"We should go out, celebrate – just the two of us tonight. The others can wait." He kissed her again – he had a feeling he would have a problem keeping his hands off her in the months coming. "And you really should eat something – you must be hungry. You haven't eaten in, what, seven hours? You have to stop doing this. You have to take good care of yourself from now on." He grabbed her bag from the table, while slipped his other arm around her waist. "Come on, let me take you out. I saw a nice Mexican restaurant on the way here." He stopped for a moment. "Or should we lay off the spicy food for now? How are feeling?"

Skye leaned against his side.

"No, Mexican sounds great. But is this what I can expect from you in the next, like, eight months?"

He chuckled as he opened the door for her.

"I'm afraid. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She touched the side of his face and gave him a peck on the lips. Okay, so there was a chance he wouldn't be the only one in this relationship with PDA issues in the near future. "I kind of like it. Mushy robot. But hurry up now, we are starving!"

And he followed her, grinning like an idiot the whole time.