AN: Written for the Sparktober 2022 Drabblefest challenge on AO3. Prompt was for parenting fic of any sort. (And it is that, but definitely not a drabble.)
When Elizabeth had imagined the itinerary for their month-long stay on Earth, she had somehow never imagined that she would be ending it with a pink-handled golf club in her hands, standing on the faux-turf deck of a shabby pirate ship. But life with John Sheppard had never yet been lacking in surprises.
She hung back after her turn, dutifully marking down the score as her nine-year-old son sunk another putt. She smirked. Connor was winning. John had been so busy offering his kids pointers and encouragement or crowing over his own—admittedly low—score that she didn't think he'd been keeping track of the numbers. For once.
Emily, however—just turned seven and only a smidge taller than the club in John's hand—was losing rather spectacularly. Used to long drives—having had plenty of practice back home—she always over-shot the hole and kept trying to send the ball over the obstacles instead of through them, the line of her little lips growing thinner and thinner with every stroke she had to take. The pirate ship was the last hole, and Elizabeth prayed they could get through it without any smashed golf clubs.
"Alright, Em, you can do this," said John, standing behind the hole, one foot propped on the wooden border. Connor made a skeptical noise—"Well…"—and John pulled him to his side, ruffling the boy's hair until he was laughed into silence. "Last one," John encouraged, "just take it easy."
Emily set down her ball, a look of determination on her face as she surveyed the slope of the deck, the strategically-placed barrels between her and the final hole. A swing, a hollow thwack. Elizabeth held her breath as they all watched the aqua-blue ball roll between the barrels, curve up and back toward the end of the green, nearing the hole… "Come on!" Emily screeched in an ecstasy of hope. But the angle was wrong. The ball bypassed the hole entirely and slowed. Emily's face fell. There was a tap as the ball hit the wooden border and, with a jolt, redirected itself. Six inches and plop, into the hole. A pool shark couldn't have done any better.
John roared. Connor cheered. Emily screamed and danced and ran to launch herself into her dad's arms. Elizabeth picked up the abandoned kid-sized club and followed, laughing as John spun their daughter in a circle.
He stilled as Elizabeth neared. "She did it! Hole in one!" he reported, as if she hadn't been watching the entire time.
She dropped a congratulatory kiss on Emily's dark curls before planting one on her husband's cheek too. "Yes, she did," she said with a smile, raising her eyebrow ever so slightly. Emily might have been too focused on the ball to notice, but Elizabeth had seen the surreptitious tap of a club against the border at just the right moment.
John gave the smallest smirk in return, his face a picture of innocence as he turned to the kids. "Okay, who wants ice-cream with Oreos on top?"
"Just a minute," said Elizabeth, tallying up the final score with relish. "The deal was the winner picks the toppings." She pressed the score-card against John's chest with a smug smile. "Might want to double-check that."
His whole face froze.
Connor whooped and bolted for the snack bar, his sister right behind. "Yes! Sprinkles!"
John's lip twisted into a pout. "Come on! Our last chance at Earth ice-cream and I have to eat sprinkles?" His nose wrinkled in distaste.
Elizabeth shrugged innocently and grinned. "Hey, your game, your rules."
