Baby-Waiting Jitters

For a moment or two Grant just watches her from the distance, as she stands by the window, looking out at the patch of green by the base's main building; she is… breathtaking. Despite the tiredness, she is glowing, radiating calm happiness. One of her hands is rested on the small of her back, the other on her belly – on the perfectly round bump that he doesn't really believe can grow even bigger –, absent-mindedly caressing it.

"Hey," he says at last, steeping forward, reaching for her. "How are you feeling?"

She doesn't even get startled; she just turns towards him, gives him a little smile, and lets him step behind her and put his arms around her middle, so she can lean against him.

"Honestly?" she replies. "I'm super excited and terrified at the same time."

He softly chuckles at that, although, to be honest, he is feeling the same way. They had their last scheduled appointment with Skye's doctor – the woman who is to deliver their baby –, who said that with only two weeks left until Skye's official due date, their baby might come any day now.

Any day now. Any day now, they'll be parents – he is still having a hard time wrapping his mind around it.

"I mean, of course I can't wait to have her in my arms, but at the same time… I'm scared a bit of the whole ordeal, you know?" she confides in him.

He would be surprised if she weren't. He slides his hand down the curve of her belly in a calming gesture, feeling their daughter kick against his palm. He grins at the forceful nudge – his daughter is so strong.

"Hey, don't you worry," he tells her softly, trying to reassure her. "Even the doc said that she thinks everything will go smoothly, and you are in good hands."

And she really is. It was decided early on that Skye should give birth at the base, and they planned accordingly – he and Fitz spent the last couple of days transforming one of the old, unused storage rooms near the lab into a delivery room under Jemma's strict guidance (since Skye made it abundantly clear that she would not give birth in one of the rooms with the glass walls in the tiny med bay of the base; she would have enough people staring at her vagina without any outside spectators, she reasoned). And he had to say, it didn't even turn out half bad – at least it wasn't threateningly hospital-like, which was a good thing, he assumed, since all the pregnancy books he read seemed to emphasize on the importance of keeping the mother calm and comfortable during labor. And what's more important: Jemma assured him that they were ready for everything.

Skye sighed and placed her hand on top of his, linking their fingers together.

"Our plan's still the same, right?" she asked, tilting her head back a bit. "You'll be there with me, right?"

"From the very first moment."

"And you'll cut the umbilical cord?"

"If that's what you want," he replied, chuckling slightly. "No matter how Hollywood it is."

She playfully hit him between the ribs with her elbow.

"I do. I want all the stupid clichés, really."

He grinned into her hair.

"Then okay – I'll do it," he whispers. "But promise me something in return?"

"Anything."

"Don't be stubborn – you don't have to do it meds-free; there's no honor in that. If you feel like you can't take it–"

"Then I'll ask for pain relief, I swear," she cuts in, the burrows deeper into his embrace. "But that's why you'll be there too – to hold my hand and tell me I can do it. You can do that, right? Next to cutting the umbilical cord?"

"That and more," he promises her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Whatever you need me to do."

He can practically feel her smile before he sees it as she turns around so she can look at him.

"That was exactly the answer I needed," she says before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down a bit so she can kiss him. He grins against her lips.

"Anything for my girls."

(Their baby doesn't come until more than a week later, but this doesn't stop him from slightly panicking whenever Skye just flinches.)