I'm super sick and spent the better part of last night coughing and for some reason while I was busy trying to get my throat and diaphragm to chill the feck out, I had this idea. I really need to keep editing my AU and I also really need to start another longer fic, because I like writing those more than I like writing oneshots, but sometimes in order to keep yourself writing, you need to write what comes to mind, whether it is short or not.
Paige couldn't believe that between the two of them, neither was apparently capable of making crubeens taste good.
"You're Irish," she said. "How on earth can you not do this?"
"I left Ireland before I was a teenager," Walter reminded her. "And even you agreed that mine tasted better than yours."
"I never want to see pig feet again," she said, pushing the tray to the other end of the counter. "Or pig, for that matter. I hope you enjoyed my ham, because that's over." She opened the cabinet that pulled out the trash bin, and she dumped the failed meal into it. "So what should we have for dinner?" The song on her iPod was finishing, and there was some static from the speaker in the moment it took to change to another track.
Walter shrugged. "Uh…Kovelsky's?"
"Wal – ter," she said, dragging out the second syllable of his name. "How about pasta? That's easy enough."
Walter didn't respond, and Paige frowned slightly at the look on his face. It was the look he got when he was having a sensory reaction to something. In the silence that passed between them, the only sound was the background music from her iPod. Paige turned her head, looking at it, even though she recognized the track almost immediately.
She turned back toward him, feeling herself blush slightly. "This song…"
Walter nodded after a moment. "It was playing when we – "
"Dance with me?" She asked, holding out her hand.
Walter smiled, reaching out and drawing him toward her. They settled into position easily, without the nervous awkwardness that had been present at the wedding. They didn't stay like that long; Paige slid her arms around his neck and tucked her head, his hands going to the small of her back and gathering her against him. She felt his head tip to the side and rest against hers.
God, she loved him.
She adjusted her arms, burying her head against his neck again and breathing him in. She liked going out on dates, spending time with him in public, but she loved this too, dancing in the kitchen with the sunset light coming through the window. In a way, this was almost better.
Walter's arms slid around her. At this point, they were basically just hugging and swaying back and forth. Paige made a little sound in the back of her throat. He squeezed her tighter. She could sense the heightened emotion in the way he was holding her, and she understood. They loved each other all the time, but things like this, a reminder of the first time they had told each other, brought all the emotions to the forefront of their everything.
He was definitely learning how important music could be.
The song was ending, but the next one that came up was also slow, so they remained as they were, swaying slowly in place. Paige slid one of her hands up into his hair, her head still tucked into his neck. "I love you," she murmured.
She felt Walter lightly kiss her head. "I love you, too."
She smiled. She didn't think she would ever tire of hearing him say it.
Paige was surprised when a more upbeat song started playing. She hadn't thought it had been more than a few seconds, but apparently more than three minutes had passed. She pulled back to look at him, smiling fondly. Walter leaned forward to kiss her. When they broke apart, she couldn't help but smile again at the expression on his face. She was happy. She was so incredibly happy. And she saw the same happiness in his eyes, in the way he smiled, and in the dimple on his cheek that showed itself when he did so this broadly.
"So pasta or Kovelsky's?" She asked.
"Not important," he replied, and she was only confused for a moment. He stepped away from her, keeping her hand in his, then lifted his arm. She understood, twirling, her skirt flaring around her, finding herself back in his arms at the end of it.
"I haven't danced to a fast song in…well…ever," he admitted, giving her a sheepish grin, "but I assume I can figure it out. And better here than out in public, right?"
"I dunno," she said, grinning, "I'm quite good at this. You think you can keep up?"
He grinned back. "I'm confidant I will be proficient by the end of this song."
"You're on, Babe."