Dancing In The Moonlight *Eddie Munson/ Y/N One Shot*

Dancing In The Moonlight

"...fine and natural sight."

The song had been stuck in your head for days. Literally, days. It was three days ago when you heard it on the radio for the first time in forever and you'd been humming and singing it to yourself ever since.

"When you're dancing in the moonlight."

It was an old song. One your older cousins used to love, long before you ever cared about music. You had not idea how it ended up in the rotation for a local Indiana radio station in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. But man was it catchy.

Honestly, you didn't even know who sang it. It had occurred to you to ask Eddie, since he'd been working at the record shop for a few years now. But you doubted it would be the kind of thing he'd know about. It wasn't exactly his cup of tea. So instead, you contented yourself to randomly sing the few lines that you knew.

"Dancing in the moonlight, everyone was feeling warm and bright."

Your coworkers had grown tired of the song quickly. Like, almost too quickly. Dierdre had thrown you more than a few eye rolls across the room when you'd start humming to yourself, your hips moving instinctively as you cleared a table or handed off orders to the cooks in the back.

"Y/N, my dad likes that song." She had sighed as the two of you closed together on night three of your marathon. "Can't you get something normal stuck in your head? Madonna, maybe? Even that headbanger shit your boyfriend listens to."

You laughed along with her, teasingly tossing a rag in her direction. "I can't help it!" You whined as she bent down to retrieve the thrown rag. "It's in there. Like, seriously in there."

"Well, figure it out because if you come in here singing it again tomorrow I'm gonna clamp your lips closed with Bill's tongs." She said flatly, nodding in the direction of the kitchen, a smile on her red lips.

You left your car radio on the same station for days, just in case it randomly played again. You just wanted to be able to sing along to it and get it out of your system. Purge the song from your mind, so to speak.

But it never happened. Three days of driving 20 minutes to and from work. It started to feel like you'd never be able to rid your thoughts of the melody. Even you were starting to get annoyed with yourself. Well, maybe not annoyed with yourself, moreso annoyed with the radio station that played it one time and then never again.

When you parked in front of your house on night three and the song still hadn't magically appeared on the radio, you felt defeated. You wrapped the hands around the top curve of your steering wheel, resting your forehead on the back of your hands for a few moments before you were able to walk inside.

Eddie was on the couch watching TV. His legs were spread across the floor, his arm draped over the back of the spot where you normally sat with him.

"Welcome home," he smiled at you.

You kicked your shoes off next to the door with a sigh. You didn't even bother to take off the thin jacket that you wore, instead digging your hands deep into the pockets as you made your way to the couch.

"How was work?" Eddie asked, placing a chaste kiss to your temple when you fell into the worn couch beside him.

"Fine," you answered. "Made some decent tips." You pulled a wad of ones and fives from your jeans pocket.

"Why you all huffy then?"

You put your hand, and the cash, back into your pocket and snuggled deeper into him. "Not huffy."

"They said with a huff," Eddie teased. His hand fell from the back of the couch to rest over your shoulders. "Long as you're not, like, dying or something you can be huffy if you want. I don't care. I'm just gonna close my eyes and…"