Summary: s/w - a half-hour in the life
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.

AN: I don't usually get family visions go figure

I'm going to be addingscenes to this.. aphazardly through time and rearranging the chapters to fit.. so.. fair warning

Chapter one: Child's play

"I'm home!"

"In here," a voice called, followed by video game sounds from the play room, and words dimmed from being aimed away from the door, "Ha! Watch your baaaaack!"

Aside from the flight simulator video feed on the viewer, there was a laundry basket of half-folded clothes on one side of the adult and a sleeping baby on the other. The far side of the laundry was taken up by a 6-year-old boy, whole body weaving as he manned his joystick, desperately trying to out-fly- "No fair! You're cheating!" He didn't throw the remote, but his arms waved angrily before crossing mutinously.

The adult siting cross-legged on the floor retorted indignantly as the descending sounds of a dead player were heard, "I am not! You watched Uncle Rodney take the ATA interface out."

"But you always win!"

"What he means, John Shepard, is that you're supposed to let your son win sometimes."

John snorted, sharing a glance with the tall woman entering the room as he absently re-tucked the blanket around the baby that shifted besides him. He answered the warm amusement, "No way," then turned to his son with earnest seriousness, "No child of mine will grow up an underachiever who doesn't know if he can win on his own merit."

The boy's lip stuck out in a wobbly pout, "But I'll never be better than you! You'll always be older!"

John shook his head, frowning and not relenting, still feeling the discomfort from visiting with his brother and meeting his teen-aged nephew. The boy's whiny lack of self-confidence had bugged him at a very personal level every time he thought of his own son.

"And you're young. Which means you have better reflexes and a faster body. And they're only going to get better, whereas mine will get worse. One day, probably soon," he nodded at the high points on both players, "You're going to pull all that together and beat the pants off me. As for being better," he rolled his eyes, aware of the warmth at his back, "Your mom's a hundred times smarter than I am and you have her genes, as evidenced by that so orderly hair of yours, what does that tell you?"

Elizabeth grinned, reaching down to tenderly run her fingers through her husband's always-messy hair and smiling reassuringly at the little boy trying hard to understand every word his hero said.

Daniel watched his father's face change as he looked up at his mother and he saw, for the first time, the father who'd always protected him.. being himself cared for. Looking just as happy -reassured- from his mother's affection as Daniel always felt. Cuddling into more of her touch.

"I better grab this little one and get her fed as soon as I get changed," Elizabeth crouched down to pick up the 4-month-old, dropping a kiss on John's forehead as she got up, then giving Daniel a wink and leaving the room.

John turned to his son, still smiling, putting aside his joystick as he spoke, "Come on, we better get this finished before we get in trouble, son."

Daniel nodded obediently, reaching for two socks to fold together, "Okay."

They worked silently for a minute before he looked up hesitantly. "Dad?"

"Yeah?" John answered absently as he folded one of Elizabeth's sweaters, still being careful so he'd do it right after almost eight years of practise.

"Does mom take care of you?"

He blinked, confused, "What?"

"Well, you take care of me and Ella-"

"We take care of you and your sister." John focused on his son as he put the folded sweater down.

"And you take care of mom..."

Watching the hesitant expression on Daniel's face, John smiled, slowly getting an idea of what was on the boy's mind. And feeling hard-hit with a sense of time passing so quickly.. his baby getting closer all the time to adulthood. "We take care of each other. Yes, your mother takes care of me. That's the way love works, son. The circle that keeps life going."