We, the Sparky Army, decree 2008 to be the Year of the Spark. We pledge to post a new sparky story or chapter of a sparky story every day from January 1, 2008 to December 31, 2008. Though the Powers the Be have removed Elizabeth Weir from the regular cast of Stargate Atlantis, we feel that she remains an integral part of the show, and that the relationship between her and John Sheppard is too obvious to be ignored. We hope that you, and anyone might happen to read these works, agree.
And if that isn't official enough for you, we don't know what is. Seriously, guys, we're just trying to have some fun--and show TPTB that Sparky is the way to go. So sit back and enjoy the 366 stories coming your way!
Author's Note (Mama Jo): After all the angst (and the four parts!) of my last YotS, I decided it's time for something short, sweet, and pure fluff. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
Bump, bump. Flutter. Bump.
John Sheppard drifted on the receding currents of slumber: close to, but not quite on, the surface of consciousness.
Flutter. Bump, flutter.
He stirred slightly, the unfamiliar sensations against the small of his back nudging him closer to wakefulness, and burrowed his head a little deeper into his pillow in unthinking protest.
Bump. Bump. Bump.
Slowly, he became aware that he was lying on his left side with Elizabeth snuggled up to him, her right arm tucked under his, her hand splayed loosely over his heart. A tiny bubble of curiosity formed in the dark still mostly clouding his mind: Was she trying to jostle him awake for some reason? Had he been snoring? But no: The light, rhythmic pressure of her breasts between his shoulder blades told him she still slept.
Startled by the force of that last impact, John's eyes popped open on dim, pre-dawn grayness, his body automatically tensing. Elizabeth moved in response, restlessly shifting against him. Sighing, she unconsciously nestled her belly, obviously beginning to swell now with her pregnancy, firmly into the small of his back again. And the realization hit of what he'd been feeling, what he'd never felt before:
Their baby, his and Elizabeth's, moving joyously inside her.
Holding very, very still, he felt his eyes grow wet as emotions surged up overwhelmingly within him; an indescribable tangle that eventually resolved itself into a deep, awestruck tenderness. As the light of the new day slowly suffused their quarters, John Sheppard continued to lie quietly, cherishing with every cell of his being the precious feel of his wife and child tucked close against him. . .
. . .And thought he'd never had such a wondrously gentle awakening in his life.