A/N: This fic did not pass a beta, and therefore all the mistakes are mine. It's just my take on a wonderful family Christmas.
Disclaimer: Only Juliet is mine, the other characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, Alliance Atlantis and CBS.
I lay splayed out on my stomach, covered in a big warm blanket, my hands under my pillow. I enjoyed the opportunity, the fact that I could still, while my stomach was still nearly flat.
It would be a mere few months, weeks even before I would be forced to sleep on my side or back, the lump having grown too large for comfortable tummy sleeping.
My pants don't fit anymore, and though I knew my belly would grow faster this second pregnancy, nothing could have prepared me for this.
I was awoken from my light slumber by a silent chuckle and a male whisper, quieting the chuckle down. A door opened and closed and although I wouldn't hear a 'merry Christmas mommy' this year, maybe next year, joy filled my heart.
Ever so slowly I turned to look at the two loves of my life that had tiptoed into the bedroom. The chuckle sounded louder this time and grew into a real laugh.
"Hmmmmm good morning," I smiled while rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes.
"Good morning," he replied while handing me my beautiful daughter. Two small hands cupped my face and she studied me with a serious glance before breaking into a full blown smile.
She has the most gorgeous blue eyes, his, and golden blonde hair which probably came from his side of the family too.
While Juliet was crawling over me, pulling herself up to a standing position on the headboard, Gil had slipped out to get me breakfast. He had promised me breakfast in bed, but it was still very nice to see him make the effort.
He came back with a tray with little buns, cheese, ham, salami. I eat meat now, the baby needs it. Last pregnancy I used to almost faint because of a lack of iron. This time I can't keep myself away from the meat.
He handed a slice of bread to Juliet, 'to keep her quiet,' he said, but God knows that won't work. She's busying herself from stealing bites of ham from me and Gil.
She grins and tilts her head every once in a while and she looks so cute doing that, that I feel like crying of joy every time.
After the buns and tea Gil brought the tray with now empty plates back to the kitchen and I picked Juliet up, carried her out into the living room and put her in her play pen.
"You look good," Gil said while wrapping his arms around me and trying to look down the cleavage of my pink nighty.
"I'm only wearing this because my other PJ's are in the laundry, you know," I answer.
"I know... Maybe you should save up laundry more often."
He kissed my neck and I pushed him back slowly.
"I'm gonna sit on the couch, can I borrow your bathrobe?"
"Hmm... I'm gonna take a shower anyway," he said while tossing it to me. It smells like him, masculine, aftershave, deodorant, Gil.
When he came out of the shower, hair wet, curly and tousled we opened the presents that were lying under the Christmas tree. His arms wrapped around me, mine wrapped around Juliet and Juliet tearing away at her presents.
She's just one year old, but she's so wise, so wise.
Today is for us, cuddling, hugging. I'm cooking and Gil is playing, playing with Juliet, reading for her, pushing her around on her new walk around car and she's loving every minute of it.
I made chicken and a salad and potatoes and the three of us ate and enjoyed.
After dinner it's baby bedtime and after reading Juliet a story we both kiss her goodnight and then our evening starts.
Just the two of us, desert -ice cream-, drinks -non alcoholic for me of course- and movies. Tacky Christmas movies, movies we've both seen at least a dozen times.
I'm curled up against him on the couch kissing his neck, whispering in his ear that I love him. He stares at me, hand absently stroking my hair and he tells me how much he loves me, that he loved the dinner I cooked and that he has fallen in love with me all over again in these last few days.
And that is just what I need. My smile is smothered by his kisses, soft at first, then slowly persistent.
I moan and I warn him not too. Hormones are ruling my body and even the softest caress, kiss, turns me on and right now sex is not what I want. I just want to be, with him, here, right now. Just us.
In a few days it's new year's eve and I know I will cry, I know he will cry and I know it won't be our last in a very long while.
He takes me to bed and makes love to me and when he's lying there on top of me, getting closer and closer to me with every thrust, he locks eyes with me and whispers, "merry Christmas, Sara."
Please review if you liked it, and if you don't. Concrit is always welcome. Love, Lynn