Prompt: Dance Off + BixLu? - itsajoshyboy


Dancing Queen

Bickslow was struggling to stay on his feet after his thirty-second hour of being awake. It had been a while since he'd been that sleep deprived, but with Lucy entering her fifteenth hour of labour, he was absolutely exhausted.

When they'd (well, Lucy, mostly) been preparing for that special day - the one that was supposed to have happened nearly two weeks earlier - they'd expected it to be a somewhat long process, being that it was their first child, but they'd never expected it to go on for that long. At that point, Bickslow couldn't tell if he was more excited about Lucy almost being ready to deliver their daughter and being able to actually meet her, or about getting to sleep once said daughter had been born.

Honestly, he expected it was the latter.

But still, in the fifteenth hour of it all, part of Bickslow's tiredness most definitely had to do with just how many laps of the maternity ward he'd done. Lucy wanted to move around, and of course, wanting to be a supportive husband (for once), he'd walked with her on every single lap - well, until a nurse had given him a wheelchair and then he'd ended up wheeling himself around behind Lucy.

Now though, after having said that he was incapable of doing one more lap of the ward with Lucy (his chair had been taking away, unfortunately), Lucy was moving onto dancing - well, it was more like swaying, considering she was like nine and a half months pregnant and that was pretty much the extent of what she could do at that point, but it was dancing nonetheless.

"Aren't you going to dance with me Bixy?" Lucy pouted as she continued to sway and twirl completely out of time with the music the midwife had started playing for her.

"In a minute, babe," he mumbled. As soon as he'd gotten back to Lucy's room after the last lap, he'd only collapsed into the vinyl chair and now he didn't even have enough energy to get up.

Lucy wasn't going to take that though. Nope. Technically, it was his fault she was there right then anyway (well, sort of), so the least he could do was dance with her. So she untangled herself from the IV and padded over to where her husband was slouched in the chair, and grabbed his arms to pull him up. "Come on. Dance time."

Bickslow only groaned and went along with it. Unfortunately, he only managed to sway and twirl around with his too-happy wife for a minute before his legs were buckling under him and he collapsed face down onto the tiled floor, and then began snoring.