Work Text:
Ellie had been hovering near the dinner table for a full three minutes now, swaying nervously, her arms crossed, one hand brought up to her mouth so she could furiously nibble on her nails.
Joel, who was stirring hunks of rabbit meat into a stew, said nothing. With Ellie, she would come out with it sooner or later.
He stifled a chuckle. Come out with it. He thought back fondly to the day, several weeks earlier, when he had found Ellie and the neighbor’s daughter, Gemma, kissing under a tree in the back yard. He was getting soft in his old age, he knew; this sort of thing never used to make him so sappy. Not since the world had gone to shit, anyway.
“Joel,” Ellie said finally, her voice strained.
“Hm?” Joel brought the spoon up to his mouth for a taste test.
“Have you ever been to a dance?”
Joel almost spat his bite of stew back into the pot. Panic clutched at his chest.
“What?” he said, turning to look at her, scrambling for time, even though he had heard her perfectly the first time.
Ellie’s face was bright red. She talked around the ragged tips of her fingers. “A dance. Have you ever...been to one?” She was squeaking.
Joel passed a hand over his face. Jesus Christ, give me strength. He filed this away in the dark corner of his mind labeled “Shit I Never Had to Deal With With Sarah.” This corner was full to bursting now, after four years of knowing Ellie. The imaginary files there were labeled with things such as “sex,” “girlfriends,” and “teaching a child how to shiv clickers.”
“No,” he said slowly, drawing the word out. “Why?”
Ellie looked down at her feet. Sweat was beading along her forehead. “Well, you know Maria is planning that midsummer festival...” She paused. He waited. She cleared her throat. “Well, uh. I was talking to her today and. She mentioned...there would be...a dance...” Her face reddened even further. If Joel hadn’t been looking at her, he would have thought such a feat impossible.
“There’s a dance every year,” Joel said, confused.
“Yeah, I know, but.” Ellie let out a loud breath. “Gemma asked me to go with her.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “You know. Like a date.”
“I see,” Joel said. He was fighting to keep from grinning. This shit was hilarious.
“And I don’t know fucking anything about dancing, or -- or dances, or dates, and do I have to wear a fucking dress, because I don’t even have one, and I fucking hate dresses, and it’s in just a few weeks and I already told Gemma I’d go because I didn’t know what else to say and --” She stopped, took a breath. “Shit, Joel.” She flapped her hands in the air, distressed.
“Baby girl,” Joel said, trying to keep is voice even as laughter threatened to bubble up into this throat, “it’s just a dance.”
“But Joel!” She rubbed her hands over her face. “I’ve never been to one and I’m going to look like a total fucking idiot!”
“I think everyone looks like an idiot at their first dance,” he said, shrugging.
“That is so not helping.” Ellie glowered, but her dark expression was quickly replaced by a look of sudden realization. “Joel.”
“What, Ellie.”
“You’ve never been to a dance either, have you?”
It was Joel’s turn to blush. “I thought we were talkin’ about your problems.”
Ellie did not have the grace to hold back laughter. Ever. She guffawed. “Oh my god, Joel. You’re old as shit! How have you never been to a dance before?”
For a moment, Joel thought baby Sarah, screaming in his arms, hot with fever on the night of his senior prom. Neither he nor Sarah’s mother had gone.
“Skipped it,” he said tersely.
Ellie seemed to have realized what kind of land mine she had just stepped on and quickly backtracked. “Anyway, what am I supposed to do?”
“Well, you already said you’d go. So I think what you do is, you go.”
“The problem,” Ellie said, “is that I don’t know how to dance and I have nothing to wear.”
“So your problem is that you want to impress that girl of yours,” Joel said.
Ellie flushed again. “Fuck you.”
Joel laughed in earnest this time, then sighed. “Help me set the table. I’ll see what I can think of to help.”
As soon as Ellie left for patrol duty the following morning, Joel stopped by his Tommy’s house.
Tommy opened the door and greeted his older brother. “What brings you here so early in the mornin’?”
“Is your wife around?” Joel asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“She ran out to check on some things in the mess hall, but she’ll be back soon.” Tommy’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Why?”
“None of your damn business,” Joel said, pushing into the house.
“Hey, my wife being mayor of this town makes me...second-mayor, or whatever,” Tommy said as he closed the door. “I get to know what goes on around here, too.”
Joel rolled his eyes and sat down on Tommy’s broken-down couch, saying nothing.
“Fine,” Tommy said, grinning. “Be like that.”
Joel sat in stoic silence until Maria came back, Tommy bustling around him, needling him. Joel ignored him, but stood when Maria came in the door.
“Joel!” she said, eyebrows raised. “What are you doing here.”
“Wants to talk to you,” Tommy said. “Apparently it’s too fucking top-secret for his baby brother.”
Maria made a shooing motion with her hands. “Get out of here,” she said, but she was smiling.
“Fine, fine. Gotta go down to the plant anyway,” Tommy said, gathering up some notepads. “Don’t get into too much trouble.” He kissed her on the cheek and left.
“So, what seems to be the trouble?” Maria asked, putting her hands on her hips. Joel always felt a little smaller under her gaze.
“Well,” Joel said, suddenly sheepish, “it’s this whole dance thing. Ellie’s a bit worked up about it.”
“Oh?”
“She’s going this year, and.” Had he always been this awkward around his sister-in-law? He sighed. “Was hoping you could help me find her something to wear.”
Maria’s laugh was almost a giggle. He had never heard her giggle before. “I can help with that, sure.”
Joel’s shoulders slumped in relief. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been.
“And we’ll have to get something for you, too,” Maria added, her eyes already faraway in thought.
Joel sputtered. “What? Me? No fucking way --”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” she said, putting on what Tommy always called her mayor voice. “If Ellie’s going to her first dance, you’ll want to be around.”
“What in the hell for?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Chaperoning, of course.”
“Joel, this is stupid.” Ellie had stomped on his bare toes for the sixth time, making him wince and swear.
“It’s not stupid,” Joel insisted through gritted teeth. “You were worried about dancing, so I’m teaching you.”
“Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea,” Ellie said, dropping his hands and stepping back from him.
Joel shook his head. “You gotta learn sometime. It’s a life skill.”
Ellie snorted. “Some life skill. What’m I gonna do, kill infected by scaring them to death with my shit dancing?”
Joel smothered a laugh, covering by stroking his beard. He shrugged at her, held out his hands. “C’mon, Ellie. One more time.”
She sighed, making her bangs flutter in front of her face. “Fine.”
He began to hum an old tune under his breath, one he often played aimlessly on his guitar during the evenings. Ellie perked up when she heard it.
“I like this song,” she said.
Joel smiled at her, still humming, leading her through a turn.
She didn’t step on his feet once.
“I can’t see, Joel.”
“That’s the fucking point. Now stop complaining and walk.” He was shuffling behind her, his hands over her eyes as he led her into her bedroom.
“For all I know, you might be trying to kidnap me,” Ellie said.
He prodded her over to the bed, where Maria was standing, Ellie’s outfit for the dance later that night spread out on top of the comforter. Maria winked at Joel, who grinned.
“Are we there yet?” Ellie asked.
“Yes,” Joel said, taking his hands away from her face. He stepped to the side to watch her.
He was rewarded with wave after wave of shock, confusion, and delight suffusing her round face.
“What the fuck?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.
“You said you had nothing to wear,” Maria said, smiling.
Ellie picked up the tailored blazer, ran her hands over the white silk shirt with the pussy-bow, the crisp crease in the cigarette pants.
“Where did you find all this?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“My secret,” Maria said.
“I knew you didn’t like all that girly shit,” Joel said, “so I figured this would be good.”
Ellie looked at him. A thousand things seemed to cross her mind, but she settled on, “Thank you, Joel.” Her hand reached out for his, squeezed it.
“Any time, baby girl.”
Joel stood at the end of the mess hall, which had been cleared of its usual tables, watching Ellie and Gemma dance under the dimmed lights. He sipped his beer and smiled. Ellie’s outfit fit her perfectly, and had to admit she looked good out there next to Gemma and her fluffy, coral-colored dress.
Maria sidled up next to him, looking in the same direction he was.
“Thanks for your help,” he said before taking a sip of his beer. He was dressed in an old sportcoat, which he thought looked silly over his customary flannel and beat-up jeans, but Maria hadn’t been able to find anything better.
“Thanks for yours,” she said, nodding at him.
“Low lift,” he joked, raising his beer to her. “And I get to drink.”
Maria snorted and swatted his arm. “God, and I thought Tommy was a handful before you came along.”
A slower song was starting. Ellie looked up at him, whispered something in Gemma’s ear, and then started making her way over. Maria slipped away.
“Having fun?” Ellie asked breathlessly. Her hair, which Maria had put up in a bun, was coming loose, and there were stray strands plastered to her sweaty forehead.
“Can’t you tell?” he asked. He finished his beer and set the cup on the empty table beside him.
“Joel,” she said. She clutched her hands behind her back, suddenly shy and fourteen again in his eyes.
“Yes?”
“Would you dance with me?”
“You sure you want to be seen with an old mess like me?” He gestured at his outfit.
Ellie laughed. “You look fine,” she protested. “Besides, you’re the whole reason I’m here.” There was force behind her words. He knew she didn’t just mean the dance.
“Just one song,” Joel said, relenting. Ellie grinned and grabbed his hand.
They swayed in time with the music, just him and his baby girl. Ellie, never one to be silent, chattered happily in his ear, thanking him for her clothes, the dance lessons, commenting on how pretty Gemma looked, how her girlfriend flew across the floor as she danced with her older brother.
Joel smiled, taking it all in. Filed another thing away under “Shit I Never Had to Deal With With Sarah.” Felt content.
