This is a series of unrelated oneshots, each relating to one line from a Taylor Swift song (mentioned at the beginning of each one). You don't have to listen to the songs to understand them.
Disclaimer: Songs belong to Taylor Swift. And I definitely don't own WTB.
And I don't know why but with you I'd dance
In a storm in my best dress, fearless.
-Fearless
"Tony! Get inside, it's pouring out!" Tony Micelli came through the front door, his clothes soaked with rain.
"No kiddin', Angela," he looked at her pointedly. Angela rolled her eyes at her housekeeper's usual use of sarcasm as he shut the front door and made to take his jacket off.
"I wonder where everyone is," Angela mused, glancing around the empty living room. "Mother? Jonathan? Sam?" No answer. "Hm."
Tony watched her from his location in front of the mirror. Because the downpour came unexpected by both of them, neither had brought an umbrella, thus their soaked states. It wasn't a big deal to Tony; he had worn nice pants and shirt, but Angela's dress would probably have to be dry cleaned. She tried to shake and squeeze the garment in an attempt to dry it, to no avail.
Tony watched her, amused at her flustered state. Her hair, which she had put in some kind of updo for the evening, had come undone while running to the house from the driveway and was also wet with rain. Some of her makeup had also come off in the run to the house.
She probably thought she looked a mess. Tony thought she looked beautiful. This was his favorite Angela – not the tough businesswoman who always looked and acted professional, but the Angela that only he and the family got to see – normal Angela, the one who took off her heels to run in the rain. Flustered, slightly vulernable Angela.
He stopped staring before she noticed and took his jacket down to the basement, laying it on the washing machine. When he got back upstairs, he found Angela at the window.
"The rain's getting harder," she commented, abandoning the blinds and momentarily looking over at Tony.
He met her gaze. "So it is."
They stood looking at each other until the tension proved too much for Tony and he opened the door and stepped out on the porch.
"What are you doing?"
"Just looking at the rain," he answered, looking back at the window Angela was looking out.
"Can't you do that inside?"
"What's it matter?" He motioned at his already-wet clothes. "C'mon out here."
Angela shook her head. "I think not. My dress is already wet enough."
"Exactly! What's the harm in coming outside, then?" He grinned back at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes before leaving the window and joining him on the porch. "See? Isn't it so much more real?"
He looked at Angela and she smiled back before answering, "Yeah. At least we're not getting wet." She looked back out at the yard, the rain continuing to come down.
"Well… you could say that about one of us," Tony said, splashing water her way, landing on her neck and dress. Angela's jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed. Tony ran off the porch and into the yard, stopping in the backyard to catch his breath. Angela appeared soon after he did, and advanced toward him.
He realized he really had nowhere to turn so when she finally reached him, he took hold of her waist and spun her around, his arms covering hers in front of them. He spun her back around, one arm still circling her waist and his opposite hand holding hers. Angela seemed to have forgotten about the rain – he had a while ago – and let him lead her in an impromptu dance.
The two didn't notice the rain slowing to a complete stop… or Mona watching them though the kitchen window.
In this moment now capture it, remember it.