a/n: yes, it's time to deal with that thing that happened last chapter. also say hello to raina, and yes she is most definitely at this class with gordon. IN MY MIND THEY ARE ALREADY OTP DESPITE ONLY SEEING THEM TOGETHER ONCE. also, sorry this was meant to turn out a little better than the last chapter, LITTLE DID I KNOW. oh and a lot of stuff happens, so gird your loins.

The following week feels like a year, and somehow without speaking more than ten words to one another, Grant has his arms around Skye.

Thankfully the situation is so stilted due to Skye's poor skills in ballroom dancing that it's too confusing to be awkward.

His hand is guiding her from the small of her back while they follow the steps of the dance set out by the instructor. For his part, he'd gone to the lessons for weeks and mastered most of it, though he had already had a past in ballroom. The Wards were all forced to learn it as children, and while he'd never heard the end of it when he told Skye in college, it seemed the tables had turned in this case.

Skye, despite her skills on other dance floors (he tried not to think of the last time they went to a bar years ago), is wrestling a different beast all together today. Her coordination is spotty, and he watches her as she counts the three steps in her head, reading each move she makes.

It's supposed to be Lorelei here, but somehow his unemployed fiancée finds herself on a flight to Rome within hours of him returning from his tux fitting. Her father's work overseas pulled her back to the cushy job she enjoyed managing public relations, before she had donned the mantle of future housewife. The "emergency," as she calls it, pulls her away before she can pry anything from him when he returns from his fitting, and leaves him alone with some painfully unwelcome thoughts.

Although he spends the totality of their relationship committed to Lorelei, he's not an idiot. Sometimes she simply can't resist and it's been more than a couple times that he's caught her red handed. It stings, intimate betrayal from a woman who doesn't seem phased by infidelity on her end, yet colored with jealousy at the simple mention of Skye. Its just not the same Grant, you know that I'll always come back to you. This won't happen when we get married. I promise.

Her promises alway have a way of feeling backhanded.

Her departure leaves him with more frustrating questions than answers. While she's gone, he's left with a list of to-do's for the wedding; the top of the list includes the continuation of his lessons. With how militantly she drilled him in the steps, he was starting to dread the act of going to dance class.

Now he's dreading it for an entirely different reason.

When he tells her he is lacking a partner, her lips curls in that way that when she has a well-prepared answer ready in the chamber. Well isn't that what a best man is good for? Especially when she's a girl? she shoots back at him. What little time they spent together after he returned from the fitting was enough for Lorelei to pick up on some changes. She asks about Skye often, referring to her as a girl and with the same curled smile on her lips. She seems to immensely enjoyed the act of watching him squirm, something Christian jokingly referred to as her being more a wife than a bride.

He is right. Lorelei never approaches their relationship as anything other than a guarantee. He would never turn to anyone else, and she could turn to whomever she wanted. Somehow he manages to feel like the second-best to her, but then with Skye in his arms he realizes Lorelei is always going to feel like second-best to him.

"Maybe instead of counting it as one, two, three, you count it as quick, quick, slow," he offers. Skye's eyes are fixated on her own feet and the steps that Grant had drilled into him years ago. A small nod comes from her as she mutters the words 'quick, quick, slow'. He had remained an unresponsive partner up until now. He'd held her hand and led her lightly, but nothing that formed commitment. When he asked her to come with him to the dance class, she had somehow reverted back into a distant Skye. She agreed, when he had mentioned that he really had no one else to ask, but it felt like pulling teeth.

For her part, she keeps her distance from him. His text (I'm sorry about today), sent later that night, remained unanswered, getting nothing but the notification that she had read the note. Days passed until he was able to work up the courage to ask her for her help on the dance lessons. To which her response was a simple okay and nothing more. But now they really couldn't avoid one another, being inches apart and forced to coordinate together.

The waltz that is playing is slower, to initiate the dancers with the steps. But as the instructor switches it to a sweeping tempo, Grant realizes being the unresponsive partner will make this ten times worse for her. Strengthening his hold on her, he pushes forward in a leading step, firmly guiding her in the waltz. Skye looks up at him, surprise reflected back at him as she miraculously falls in step with him. Behind them, the instructor claps the beat as the other couples swirled.

"Excellent form, Mr. Ward," the instructor calls out as Grant felt a bit of a blush creeping up.

A small smirk appeared on her lips. "I guess I should take back all the crap I used to give you for ballroom dancing as a kid?" she jokes, speaking up for the first time since they had embarked on this awkward class together.

"I'm glad my skills impress someone."

She chuckles a little, "Let me guess, Lorelei thinks you could do better."

He's surprised she is so on the nose, and nods admittedly in response. "She makes it feel like I'm entering a competition not a wedding reception."

A small smile. He wishes he could bottle the expressions up and keep them for a rainy day. It instantly reminds him of better times. "Sorry, I'm probably a step down. My waltzing skills are not nearly as great as my skills with the Electric Slide."

Grant laughs in response, thinking to himself that she has nothing to worry about as far as her dancing goes. "It's nice not to have someone telling me that my steps are too broad or my posture needs correcting. Sometimes it feels like Lorelei should do the leading."

It is the longest conversation they've had since the dressing room, and it manages to feel comforting and alien at the same time. Their steps are in sync and conversation flows a little easier between them as he sweeps them from one side of the room to another. Silence falls between them as she merely smiles wistfully in response to his comment, but he feels her body relax just a little at the relief of tension.

Somehow Skye has come barreling back in his life, and without Lorelei to occupy his mind at home, he spends his free time catching up on where Skye has been for the time they were apart. Longer stints in the Middle East and Eastern Europe, reporting on government and civilian discord and military exploits. Pictures from the Rising Tide news page detail horrific bullet torn neighborhoods and the eloquent dictation of events by Skye; knocking down private military companies and weapons manufacturers with each article. He tries not to let it grate on him that under every photo seemed to be 'Photo Credit: Miles Lyndon'. Jealousy runs rampant within him these days.

His hand is poised on her back where the red dress she is wearing cuts out sections to reveal bits of skin. The dress is unforgivable, in his opinion, scarlet with a beautiful sweeping skirt; it manages to look demure and scandalous at the same time. But he is focused less on the way the dress looks, and more on what his hand is rested on. His finger grazes over something that feels like a scar on her shoulder. Round and raised, it healed in a nasty memory of some past pain.

Frowning, he deliberately runs his finger over the scar, guessing its circumference and size. "Skye, is this..."

She bites her lip, frowning a little, reluctance in her bones. "I... got it when I was reporting in Chechnya."

He stops mid-step, shocked he's right. Dragging her to the side of the dance floor, so the other couples wouldn't come crashing into them, concern marking his expression. "Skye." He didn't mask his surprise, pulling her close and turning her so that he can take a closer look. The bullet wound is scarred and barely noticeable, but his hand had felt it. He traces his finger over in repeatedly, as if trying to understand why anyone would try and shoot her.

"It was stupid. I was tracking a Hydra shipment. They've been selling guns to gangs and starting civil wars in smaller countries and towns, so I was trying to expose them. We got caught in the crossfire of a shooting and I ended up with this, and half a story."

She sounds so nonchalant he wants to shake some sense into her. "Skye, this is not stupid. You got shot! When the hell did this happen?"

"A year ago. It's not a big deal, it was barely even a bullet. Clean shot and easy recovery."

Maybe for a soldier, or a cop. But she was neither, and Grant doesn't believe for a minute that there is anything easy about the recovery. Tracing the entry wound in her back, he realizes that he hadn't seen an exit wound. Sure, he was distracted when they were in the dressing room, but he would have seen this. "They had to dig it out. I didn't see an exit wound, Skye. I can't believe...," he stopped. Wanting to chastise her for not telling him, but the conversation they had runs through his mind. He hadn't reached out to her. The only contact he'd made had been sending a wedding invitation.

How could he miss this?

Skye watches as Grant's face contorts in confusion. By all rights she can use this moment to remind him just how distant they had become, but she wants nothing more than to assure him that she is fine now. She'd lied to him, about how easy it had been, and he saw right through it. The bullet had been lodged in her shoulder, and a woman with nothing but a pair of tweezers had managed to yank it out, forcing her to stay off of her feet for a week or so. In that time she had not only lost her story, but also any leads she had.

"It's fine now. It healed up all right, and look, I'm good now." The concern in his eyes makes her ache. He'd spent the better part of the night as a silent partner. It's all fine for her, given that she had all the intentions of canceling the appointment tonight before guilt and curiosity lured her in.

She had rejected his messages, his apology, and neglected him the entire week, wanting nothing more than some time to figure out what the hell she had gotten herself into. The news of Lorelei's departure made her even more nervous. She had been waiting for Lorelei to come stomping to her door calling her a home wrecker or something, but it turned into an uneventful week.

The logical part of her mind tells her to let it go. He's getting married, it is nothing more than a lapse of judgement on his part, she shouldn't go from Grant to Miles and back to Grant. But that logical part of her has been outvoted by the part of her that won't stop replaying the events of the previous week. It's that part of her that thinks doing something like ballroom dancing is not a smart idea. Initially she is so distracted by trying to get the steps right that she is unable to focus on the fact that they are inches apart. But somewhere along the line, the music picks up and apparently so does Grant.

She's not used to this kind of dancing. Her definition of going dancing consists of grinding up on a handsome stranger, and maybe even taking them home for the night. Despite the formalities, this feels ten times more intimate. But maybe it's because she's forced to look him in the eye, or maybe it's because it's Grant.

It all goes to shit when she feels his finger tracing a familiar mark on her body. A moment she's not proud of, a moment that reminds her she isn't invincible or untouchable.

"Really, it wasn't a big deal," she reassures him.

Grant's concern doesn't fade, but he seems to give in to the idea that he's not going to extract more information from her. Instead his finger traces over the scar again, and this time she feels a familiar shiver run through her body. They're not focusing on things like dance moves or posture and form. They're standing still, but the world feels like it's spinning.

"I'm glad you're safe now." His hand doesn't move from its place, like a balm on an old wound he's trying to heal.

The memory of the injury, of how much blood had come from it and the pain she'd felt as Miles had dragged them both out of there and to the local clinic, plays like a vivid film in her mind. She shakes the thoughts away and grabs his other hand, "But you won't be if you don't practice these dance moves." She pulls them back onto the dance floor as Grant seems to recognize her reluctance in talking about the matter and follows suit with a sad smile on his face that feels painfully like pity.

They fall into the same steps, it feels a little more familiar now.

It's not long the instructor calls them together and ends the class with a round of applause for everyone's hard work. Couples start to walk off before she sees a familiar face walk towards her. A petite woman with short black curls and a sultry smile waves dressed in a silk flower dress.

"Raina?"

"Skye!" The woman brings Skye in for a familiar hug, squeezing tight before letting go. "It's been so long. I haven't seen you since... Israel? I think?"

Nodding, she follows up with a quick introduction, pointing to Grant beside her. "Yeah, it's been so long! This is Grant, by the way. Grant Ward, meet my friend Raina."

Grant offers a hand courteously and raises an eyebrow, "Nice to meet you. Another Rising Tide reporter?"

Raina lets out a small laugh, shaking her head, "Good heavens no. I work for an independent agency. But we met in Israel when she was reporting." Her eyes judge Grant briefly, before coming back to Skye. "Well, when I ran into Miles a few months ago he told me you guys had already been broken up for a while, apparently it turned out well? Are congratulations in order?"

"What?" Skye retorts, a sudden cold sweat forming as the sensation of embarrassment prickles the back of her neck. "No. No. No."

Grant cuts in as she is violently shaking her head and repeating 'no' to Raina, "I think what she's trying to say is that she's my best man. My fiancée is out of town, and she's filling in." He covers for her easily enough, but she can read the dynamic shift between the three of them.

Raina recognizes the change as well, nodding and smiling as she interprets the unspoken part of this conversation between them. To everyone back home, she had broken it off with Miles just a few weeks ago before returning to the states. Not many people knew that she ended things with Miles the day she found out about Grant's wedding months ago when they were still working together. Somehow the reality that she was never going to get what she truly wanted slapped some sense into her with what she was doing with Miles. The people who talk her these days assume that she is still recovering from a break up.

Grant definitely was not aware of what had actually happened, and he regards her with confusion. Even after he covered for her, his face held the same expression.

Thankfully a tall man came up behind Raina, calling her name with a paper cup in his hand full of water. "Here, Beautiful," he offered, before looking up at Skye and Grant. "Oh, hello."

Taking the opportunity handed to her by the gods, Skye introduces herself and her friend Grant Ward. She and the man, whose name turns out to be Gordon, and Raina's fiancé, carry most of the conversation before Raina announces that they should probably clear out of the room. It's a good ten minutes later before they hug their goodbyes and she's left outside of the studio with Grant, who has only said polite niceties to Gordon and Raina.

"So when were you going to tell me you broke up with Miles months ago? I thought you guys just called it quits."

Good old Grant. Straight to the point. No tact at all.

Wrapping her hands around her sides, she shrugged. "It wasn't something that I felt like I needed to broadcast."

"I guess, but how long has it been?"

"About four months."

"Oh." He seems to be thinking, and she waits for him to do the math in his head. Four months ago they announced their engagement. It takes him a second, calculating the month and where he was before he repeats again, "Oh," in an entirely different time.

"It wasn't just because of that." Liar. "We had been growing apart, and I just realized we weren't a good fit." Not to mention her mood had turned sour after the news, and any accidental future moments of her calling out Grant's name during sex would probably not be taken as well as it had been before.

He moves closer to her, the florescent light from the dance studio sign lights both of them in harsh shadows. "So, it wasn't because of my engagement?"

She wants to kick him for being on the nose. Or maybe kiss him all over again. "I don't know, not completely." She backs up, his movement causes a chain reaction from her. The last thing they need to be is close to one another again. "We had our problems. I didn't want to bother people with my issues, especially since they had basically been resolved."

"Yeah, but I would have liked to know."

Part of her wonders if he wanted to know so that he could have a chance with her again. It was a childish hope, but the potential lingers and she almost wishes she could go back in time and test that theory. "It's over now." She tucks her hair behind her ear before filling the following silence with what she's been wanting to mention all night. "Look, I don't want things to be awkward between us. I don't know what got into me last time. And I've been spending this past week freaking out that Lorelei is going to come to my door and throw acid in my face or something."

This elicits a choking laugh from Grant, whose face had been serious up until now. "It's okay. It wasn't one-sided." He scratches at the back of his neck, awkward. "And, honestly with the shit that Lorelei pulls sometimes, what we did is nothing in comparison."

Skye frowns. What? Nothing? It feels like it should be an insult, but it sounds almost pained. "Wait, what? What do you mean?"

His expression changes immediately, like he's revealed some secret meant to be kept locked away. "Nothing. No, it's nothing."

"If what we did is nothing in comparison. What the hell does she do?"

He shakes his head, shrugging.

"Wait. Does she still sleep around?" Lorelei was never loyal to just one person, she had assumed that Grant had changed that about her.

He sighs, taking a half step back.

"Are you kidding me? She's cheating on you?"

"It's not like she's going to keep doing it when we get married."

"Right, because that's a good reason to keep up the charade."

"It's not a charade, Skye."

"Well, then what the hell is it? Why are you still in this relationship? You could be with anyone else! How can you even stay with her when she treats you like this?"

He opens his mouth to say something back, their volume escalated and the reverberation of their argument bounces off of the walls and back into their ears. Skye waits for him to retort something back, tell her a reason why he is in a relationship with someone who cheats on him, why he's dragging himself through the mud. His jaw clenches shut instead and he looks upset. "It's not that simple, Skye. She's got it all planned. We're committed to the marriage, maybe not to one another, but to the union. Commitment is something that happens between adults."

She hears the edged tone. Adults. Because she could never really get a handle on things like commitment. He was throwing his mistakes back at her. "If that's commitment, some kind of weird relationship where it's ok to sleep around with other people, then I can't believe you would want it. That's not you."

"You don't know me anymore. You said that. Things changed."

"No one changes that much. What the hell happened to you?"

Grant scoffs, taking a step back and then another. He backs away from her. "You left. You decided that you were scared of something or something between us. That's what happened. You left to go chase stories and go to places where I couldn't protect you and be with you." Regret paints his face, as he increases the distance between them, his face shrouded in shadows. He points to the parking lot across the street. "I parked over there, I have to go home and feed the dog. Good night, Skye."

She's left standing alone in front of the studio feeling like she's been shot again.

as always reviews are totally welcome! tell me how i'm doing, i love hearing what you guys have to say about my fics!