If there are still free slots to be had, I'd be happy to get some J/D Family Fun. Maybe John gets David his first costume without bothering to introduce Delenn to the concept first. (But feel very free to ignore this, obviously.) Whatever you do, have fun with your Promptathon!
Plenty of free prompt slots! Very excited to be writing some autumnal/Halloween goodness.
Read at AO3
Delenn stirred early, never able to sleep quite well when she stayed with John’s family on Earth. Perhaps it was the time difference; perhaps it was the flat bed with a mound of pillows. Either way, Delenn found herself in another restless sleep and reached over for her husband. Her hand found cool sheets; John’s pillow barely indented. A frown creasing her brow, Delenn pulled herself into a sitting position and stared into the darkness of the guest bedroom. Sometimes – thankfully not as often, now – John would be unable to sleep. Memories of Z’ha’dum, of Mars, lingered in dark corners. But he was not there.
Pulling on her robe, Delenn slipped from the guest room and traversed the still-unfamiliar halls of the Sheridan home. Her palm lingered on the doorway to David’s bedroom; a brief look-in revealed her son propped up on four pillows, clutching a stuffed gok, snoring pleasantly. A muttered ouch from two doors down stole Delenn from her son’s doorway. The study in the corner offered a sliver of light into the hall and the fractured image of her husband.
Easing the door open, Delenn stared at her beloved. “John? What are you doing?”
Of all the images she had expected to find, Delenn had not expected this one. Reams of fabric. A contraption that seemed to exist solely for the joining of material. Her husband – who had little patience in the very best of moments – was holding a needle and thread. His answer was equally unexpected. “I’m working on David’s Halloween costume.”
Delenn lifted her brow. “Halloween? Do you mean to tell me, John Sheridan, that there is another Earth holiday I am unaware of?”
“Says the beautiful alien woman with fifty courtship rituals,” John shot back, before immediately stabbing himself with a needle. Delenn restrained her smile at the karmic nature of the universe as her husband sucked his thumb between his lips. Shaking off the pain, he explained. “Halloween is a celebration of the macabre, the spooky. It was originally a pagan holiday where the dead were said to revisit the land of the living.”
“Like the Brakiri festival.”
“Exactly. Although now-a-days it’s very commercialised. For little kids like David, they dress up and go door-to-door asking for candy. Trick or treating, it’s called. We’re on Earth this year for Halloween and I thought David should have a costume. Mom used to make mine and Lizzie’s so I thought I’d do the same for David.” John held up a black jacket where he was embroidering the symbol of the Anla’shok. It was not, perhaps, the detailed and delicate lines of the uniform Delenn had gifted John so many years ago. But it was made with just as much love. “What do you think?”
“He will adore it, John.”
He beamed. “Good.”
“But, perhaps, your work would yield better results in daylight?” Delenn knelt by John’s feet, resting her hand atop his. She admired his diligence, his dedication. But she also knew that three am was the time to sleep, not sew. “Come back to bed.”
John nodded absentmindedly; so consumed was he with the task of finishing David’s costume. It would have been adorable if it was not equally frustrating. “In a little while, Delenn; I just want to finish this panel. Ouch!”
Resisting the urge to shake her head at the stubborn Human the Universe had given her as a mate, Delenn took John’s injured finger and pressed it to her lips. She kissed the tip of his finger, as Humans were wont to do when injuries occurred, before drawing it between her lips and sucking hard. The flat of her tongue pressed against the pad of his finger; John’s stuttered breath revealing he had forgotten all about their son’s costume for that night. Delenn released his finger with a slight pop before rising between John’s legs.
“Well, if you do not wish to—”
“—you fight dirty, Mrs Sheridan, you know that, right?”
“True. And yet, you would not have me any other way.”
With muffled laughter, they returned to their room. David’s costume was completed before the celebrations; their son receiving an overwhelming number of confectionary goods. That night, however, it was John and Delenn who got the treat.
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