AN: I know I have 3 ongoing fics (which I working on, I promise) but Slow Dancing has been stuck in my head so ta-dah!
"That's everything." Ward announces, dropping the box marked 'Randoms' on the counter. "How's everything on your end?"
"We have a lot of crap."
"We?"
They had been dating for 7 months before deciding to move in – it was fast even for Skye who made decisions without thinking most of the time but this time she knew, Grant Ward was it. Their stuff was everywhere anyways, his t-shirts folded in that department-store way next to her plaid shirts, he found her boot under his bed (they have no idea where the other is), a stack of his books with bits of paper marking his place on her little table by her desktop.
And it made sense especially after she had to go to his place just to do her hair once, having forgotten that all her hair products were there. Or that time when he had to stop by her and Jemma's loft before work just to pick up his favourite tie.
As she fixed his tie, steadily ignoring Jemma who was pretending not to watch, he'd looked at her and Ward's looks were never anything short of intense, he says, "Let's move in."
"It's not crap."
"Really? Are you seriously going to keep -" he pressed the belly, "Elmo?" cringing as it began laughing.
Skye takes it from him, "It's for stress relief."
Buddy circles, sniffing warily, pawing at it. His nose nudges the belly, sending Elmo into a fit of giggles and Buddy scrambling to hide behind the couch, peering at it suspiciously.
"That thing is fucking creepy." Ward says, watching it bend over itself before wriggling on the floor. But Skye's clutching her stomach, hand stifling her mouth. "And if it goes off in the middle of the night, Elmo leaves."
"Why would you say that?! Now, I don't want Elmo here."
"All part of my evil plan." He presses a kiss to her nose, setting the Muppet on their shelf.
Ward groans when the familiar strains fill their apartment. "Really, again?"
"What?"
"We were literally just listening to this!"
"And she'll never know your story like I do. One can never have enough Taylor Swift." Skye dances, singing into the water bottle. "She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers.
"I'm ignoring you!"
"So why can't you see – You belong with me!"
He rolls his eyes, smiling to himself. His girlfriend was a dork.
("Inception?"
"You have no idea how badass it feels to code to this.")
Skye's in the middle of unpacking their mismatched plates when Ward's hand snakes around her waist, turning her to face him. "Hi."
"Hey."
"What's up?"
"What, I can't dance with my girl?" He grins, spinning her gently. "Why do you have this? Not exactly your – taste."
"There is nothing wrong with my music!"
"Yeah, except it's the playlist of a preteen."
She smacks his bicep. "Take that back."
"Never."
Their dance is clumsy, basically just shuffling feet and sometimes swaying on the spot; their dancefloor is cluttered with chairs, boxes, books and CDs. They bump into everything and Skye nearly trips over Buddy but Ward's there to catch her every time.
"It was playing in the background when you -"
"At Phil and Melinda's anniversary."
"You remember?" Skye asks, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Yeah." He feels heat creep up his neck. "I wanted to kill Trip."
"I'm glad you asked me out."
"Circumstances could have been different."
"You were cute."
"I looked like an idiot."
He wasn't lying. Trip had been elbowing him all night, making not-so-subtle comments on how he should go over and talk to Skye. Then Fitz got wind of the plan and practically shoved him there, sending him crashing into her and effectively spilling her drink on her dress. Yeah, his friends sucked.
"Let no one say you don't make lasting first impressions."
Ward groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "I'm glad my misery amuses you."
"You're such a drama queen."
"There's so much love in this heart of mine…She whispers to me and I hold her tight…You're the one I thought I'd never find," he sings softly into her ear.
"No one else in the whole wide world. Just you, girl."