This is the first of a series of one-shots, taking us through John and Cat's pregnancy. Expect a lot of fluffiness with the occasional angst. I'm not sure where they'll head yet.
The bundle next to her didn't move when she tried the subtle approach, although a long naked leg was clearly in view above the covers. Fair enough, the logical part of her brain considered, given the exhausting time he'd had recently. The new cohort of marines was definitely not up to the usual standard and had arrived with a far too ready judgement on the 'failings' of their new commanding officer. John was used to it and it didn't faze him one little bit, but some of the Atlantis veterans had taken exception to the carping about 'useless fly-boys' and 'pretty boy favourites' and there had been a number of fights that had needed to be sorted out. It didn't help that Rodney had discovered yet another new Janus lab and was insistent upon John activating everything he could in as short a time as possible. For John, there had been no respite and here she was, for the third night in a row, desperate for some of Maria Johnson's brown-bread ice-cream and needing his charming smile to wheedle some out of the slightly truculent Chief of Catering, yet again.
Subtlety was clearly not working. A gently nudge in the ribs didn't work either. Nor did a quietly planted kiss on the one bit of his stubbly cheek that was peeking from the corner of the duvet. Cat could feel the urge for the sweet coldness of the ice-cream building: the closest she could describe to it was like the stomach churning urge for a cigarette all those years ago when she'd given up. Soon, she would be desperate. Even in pregnancy, her feet were always cold and she tried the 'place-your-feet-as-close- to- his-warm-bits' strategy with no success at all, apart from a slight snort from deep beneath the bed covers.
Time for drastic action. She snaked a cold hand under the bedclothes and around to his stomach, trying hard not to enjoy the firmness under her fingers as she did or to succumb to the feeling of the little trail of hair that began at his belly button. His black t-shirt had ridden up as far as the track suit bottoms had ridden down, leaving a very tempting band of skin for her to fondle and as always he was radiating warmth. He was still lean and she could feel the muscle definition and its suggested power as she ran her hand up his stomach, under his t-shirt, towards his chest, letting her fingers twist gently through the curls of coarse hair as she did. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to reach around him as her pregnancy grew and she shifted onto her knees in order to gain more purchase and to catch a view of the buried face which steadfastly refused to show any signs of awakening.
Well, if that was the way he wanted it, she'd just have to be a lot more obvious and, knowing how ticklish he was, she found the place just below his waist that she knew to be the most sensitive. Suddenly, and with alarming speed, she found herself gently pinned down by a smiling John Sheppard, green eyes gleaming with amusement and something else that darkened the edges of his pupils.
'So, what's this new cold-hand torture all about then?' he laughed, before leaning forward and kissing her gently. 'Don't tell me baby wants ice-cream again? I swear, Maria Johnson will have to double up her production if this carries on!'
Cat squirmed a little under his amused stare, then smiled sheepishly. 'Well, a little ice-cream would not go amiss, if you really are awake anyway.'
'Well, now let me see,' he smirked, 'I might be prepared to get up in the middle of the night and beg my most ardent admirer for some more of her special ice-cream, but I do think it's about time I had a reward for all my troubles.' As he spoke, his hand was in turn roving downwards, over her swelling stomach, gently stroking her and making his expected 'reward' quite obvious.
Cat placed a firm hand on his and smiled up at him. 'Well, then, let me see. It depends upon how quick my waiter is in bringing my order, and, when he gets back, I'd like him to explain just how long he'd been awake just now!'
John smirked and swung his long legs over the edge of the bed, hitching up his low slung tracksuit bottoms as he did and pulling down the wrunkled t-shirt.
'You are not seriously going dressed like that, are you? You'll give poor Maria palpitations!' It was well known how adored John was by the burly Chief of Catering and John had no qualms about using his influence with her.
With a sexy exaggerated wiggle and a wink, he slipped the loose bottoms down just enough to give her a good view of the firm rear beneath, then pulling them up again headed off on his errand.
Chief Maria Johnson gawped at the scruffy vision that swaggered into her kitchens. For one moment, she thought all her dreams had come true as the object of her adoration and of most of her waking, and sleeping, thoughts, entered the room. Long legs were covered loosely by dark jogging pants. How he managed to keep them up over his slim hips she couldn't imagine and had to seriously try not to if she was to keep her cool when he spoke to her. The black t-shirt barely covered his midriff, showing a tantalising glimpse of tanned flesh and a little hairy tuft of dark hair disappearing downwards below the elastic of his so-called waist-band. He was bare-footed and she couldn't help but admire his long and elegant toes.
John coughed. With an embarrassed glance she met his eyes, realising that he knew exactly what she'd been looking at. God, that man knew how to charm the female population! Looking into his eyes didn't exactly calm her down, either. Tonight they looked particularly green, shining with a happiness that could only come from being so damn loved up with his pretty wife. Not that Maria disliked Cat, in fact she was one of her favourite people, but she could dream, couldn't she? His hair had that special John Sheppard-just-got-out-of-bed-look, still sticking up in all directions and only marginally more untidy that when he tried to control it. Since she'd known him, a sprinkling of grey had sprouted among his chest hairs, just visible above the t-shirt collar, and in his hair and side-burns, but this only made him more attractive to her and added to the overpowering masculinity that he exuded. From experience, she knew it wouldn't be much better for her when he spoke. His husky tones, so suggestive of sex and lust, often turned her insides into undignified jelly.
She gathered her thoughts and took a deep breath. 'So, Colonel, what is it tonight? More brown-bread ice-cream? I swear, that little concoction has never been so popular!'
John smiled, his thoughts clearly elsewhere than in the kitchen with her. When he thought about Cat, he had a far-away almost dreamy look which would have been quite charming had Maria been less besotted. 'Um, yes. Afraid so! Do you still some left, because I'm not sure what violence my wife might commit upon my poor body if you haven't.'
Trying not to think about his body and the violence she wouldn't mind committing on it, she nodded sedately and grabbed a paper bowl and plastic spoon from her cupboard. The few glass bowls she'd initially served the ice-cream in had never returned and she'd given up asking.
'I'm going to have to make some more, Colonel! Any idea how long this little urge will last? I mean, the tomato and cheese sandwiches stopped the moment my new order arrived from the gardens.' (Atlantis' botanists had a nice little line in tomato plants and she'd bought in a special cache at no little cost, only for Cat's midnight munchies to head off in the sweet direction).
John grinned and pecked her playfully on the cheek. 'You know I'm very grateful, don't you, Chief? I owe you one!' And with that, he was gone, cheerfully whistling as he took his gift back to Cat. She looked wistfully in his direction for a while, then gathered herself with a 'for goodness sake, how old are you?' and started to pack away for the night, confident that she wouldn't have any more midnight visitations from the charming colonel.
His reward was waiting impatiently in bed. Why the ice-cream was so necessary to her right now, she couldn't fathom, but at least she'd worked out a way to thank him for his efforts. With a teasing smile, she coyly beckoned him over to the bed and took the bowl from him. 'And now for your tip,' she whispered as she placed it on the bedside table and beckoned for him to come closer. Slowly and sensuously, she pulled the tracksuit bottoms down from their perilous position and slipped them off this feet, then rising to her knees, pushed his arms up and took of the t-shirt, meeting his eyes on the way down which had darkened with both lust and amusement.
'Now, lie back and think of England,' she laughed. With a curious smile, he lay on top of the covers, his attention to what she was doing clearly visible. Taking the bowl of cold ice-cream, she straddled him, then scooping a large spoonful of the delicious nectar she gave him a wicked look. 'So, you thought my hands were cold, eh?' she teased, then held the spoon tantalisingly high above his belly and allowed the cold ice-cream to fall from it onto his bare stomach. He jumped at the iciness on his warm skin, and emitted an involuntary 'what' before he realised exactly what her plan was.
'I'm getting bored of eating this out of a bowl. Thought I'd try a different kind of crockery,' she giggled, before leaning forward and licking the sticky dessert, now melting and running into his belly button, from his firm stomach. 'Mmm, that tasted good, now I wonder how it tastes if I drop it here!'
THE END!
Okay, there will be more, but these are a series of one-shots taking us through Cat and John's pregnancy. A little self-indulgent I know, but I thought that they deserved a bit of a respite from all the hard-knocks and whumping.
Please R&R. I've had a little trouble beginning to write again and all support is welcome to encourage me to continue!