Before Hell Breaks Loose

Grant wishes he had a camera with him right now, so he could preserve this exact moment for eternity: Skye in a sundress, her face make up-less, hair tussled, uncombed, her hand resting on her swollen belly, laughing at him, her whole being the embodiment of joy. He just can't stop the little, smitten smile that's forming on his face.

This is one of their last days of peace and calmness before the twins arrive (sometimes he still has a hard time believing it, even though it has been nearly seven months since he first saw the two dots on the screen). Skye's doctor made it clear that if she won't go into labor before she hits thirty-eight weeks, she's going to induce her, for the sake of the babies. That deadline is in four days, and although it seems like they have tried every old wives' tale that's supposed to start labor, their girls still remain warm and cozy in Skye's belly.

So they thought they'd have one last family get-together before hell breaks loose, a kind of unofficial baby shower – as they somehow skipped having a real one –, while secretly hoping that the excitement of the day will lure the babies out. So right now the two of them is in the garage with Trip and Mack, rummaging through all the stuff the previous tenants left there (Grant's been meaning to clean out the garage for a couple of weeks now, but he's been too preoccupied with preparing the nursery), because Skye swears she saw a portable grill there when they moved in three months ago. Of course it's not there, although they do find a bunch of other stuff Grant has no idea how could have gotten there – but at least it's making Skye laugh, so he's not complaining.

With the idea of grilling being scrapped, Coulson soon takes over the kitchen, claiming that he'll put something together quickly, and taking Jemma, Fitz, and surprisingly Lance to help him. And really, soon enough there is some pleasant aroma drifting from the kitchen, while he and Skye sit with their other guests on the back porch, swapping old anecdotes and laughing.

Skye's more carefree and relaxed than he's seen her in weeks; she's been getting more and more uncomfortable as her pregnancy progressed, barely able to wait until she could actually meet their daughters, not to mention how much worried she's been getting about the birth itself – she is afraid that because of the twins she'll end up having to have a C-section, something that, having been opened up before, she is desperate to avoid. But right now, as she leans against his side, one hand absent-mindedly caressing her bump, laughing at one of Trip's stories, it seems like she has been completely freed of her fears. Filled to the brink with love for her, he pulls her closer and presses a kiss against the crown of her head.

They eat on the porch, sitting on mismatched chairs by two tables pushed together, in the late afternoon sunlight. Their meal is simple but delicious, earning Coulson a round of teasing applause and some jokes about that he should just give up his position as the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and open a restaurant.

Their guests stay until sundown, helping them clean things up – well, everybody telling Skye to stay put while they tidy up – before leaving (the biggest mess that has to be taken care of is the chair Trip and Lance somehow managed to break, not that Grant wasn't expecting some incident of this nature). After Jemma hugged Skye goodbye one last time, and making her promise for what feels like the tenth time that night that she'll take a good care of herself, they are left alone.

Almost as soon as the front door closes, Skye steps to him, wraps her arms around his waist, and pulls him as close as her expanded stomach will let her, while nuzzling her face against his neck.

"Thank you," she whispers, her breathe tickling his skin. "This day was perfect."

Sliding his finger under her chin and lifting her face so she'll look into his eyes, he kisses her.

"You are perfect," he tells him when the kiss ends.

"And you are corny," she chuckles.

"I won't argue with that," is his only answer before he kisses her again.

(Their daughters are safely delivered by the next morning.)

A/N: Hi guys! Two things: one, I'm having my very last exam in my BA studies on Wednesday, and to prepare for it, I'll take a couple of days off from writing. This means that there won't be any updates for this story on Monday and Tuesday, and possible Wednesday as well (this one depends on how tired I'll be after the exam). Two, somebody has told me that they'd like to send me a picture prompt, but can't since they don't have a Tumblr – if it's the case for you as well, do not despair! You don't need to have an account yourself to submit stuff to me. The system only asks for a name and an e-mail address, so you can submit prompts without getting an account. As a reminder: my URL is orlissa. All the best, and thank you for your understanding! :)