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The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

John groaned aloud as he felt Jenny's walls convulse against him, milking his shaft as he filled her with his seed. The pleasure seemed to go on forever until, finally spent, he collapsed onto the bed. For a moment all he was aware of was Jenny, still gently pulsing around his softening manhood, and her warm weight on his chest and her lips on his throat as he drew deep, ragged breath after breath.

"That...was incredible..." Jenny panted at last, kissing John's neck and smiling.

He smiled weakly, one hand still resting lightly on her rear, and played with the damp curly strands of her hair. "I..." he said, gasping a little, "you..." His softening cock pulsed once within her, and he sighed a little. "I say... we experimentexperiment... a whole lot more," he decided, kissing her forehead.

He might have tried to kiss more, but his whole body felt like a dead weight. It was so much nicer to just lay here, enjoying the feel of her sweat-slick body on his. His hand on her rear gently caressed her, slowly moving over thigh and hip and back.

John sighed, content and sated and exhausted. "I love you, Jenny Sparrow," he smiled. "I love you so much." He felt like he was dozing off, when a thought struck him. "And there, at the end? I thought I felt your hand between us as I came." He smiled a little, gently kissing her hair. "Felt... nice."
 
Jenny's smile grew wider as her husband suggested they experiment more. She was most definitely up for experimentation. Instead of words, she simply made a noise in the back of her throat, almost a purr, as she pulled the covers up over their sweaty bodies and she settled in on top of John with her head on his warm chest. She was exhausted and felt sleep coming over her quickly. All she was aware of was John's hand slowly caressing her skin and his heart beat beneath her ear. His voice rumbled in his chest as he told her he loved her.

"And I love you, John Sparrow," she returned sleepily. "More than anything in this world." She was more than halfway to slumber when his voice rumbled again. "Mm?" She smiled a little as he told her that it had felt nice. "Mm."

The Sparrows didn't rise from their nest until late morning, and didn't show their faces until that afternoon. This and the many bruises and love marks left by one another across their shoulders and throats garnered them much gentle teasing, though Jenny didn't mind. John was finally her husband and now nothing could ever change that. They passed the rest of the year happy as they ever had been, John and Jenny in their separate workplaces by day, enthusiastically exploring one another's bodies each night. It seemed to Jenny that barely a month had passed, though indeed it had been her birthday, his birthday, All Hallow's Eve, and now it was Christmas already and she couldn't wait for John to open one of her gifts to him.

"John...John wake up. Saint Nick came." Jenny grinned as she shook her husband gently, eager for him to awaken. It was their second Christmas together, but their first Christmas as husband and wife. They were expected to spend the day with family, of course, but it was only six and she knew her family wouldn't be having breakfast until at least eight. Plenty of time. "John wake up!"

Mrs. Sparrow tickled her husband awake, eager to give him his present. When John was finally up she pulled a squashy package wrapped in red paper and tied with twine. Jenny watched eagerly as her husband unwrapped her handiwork, something she had been working on since the beginning of the month. Progress had been much slower than she had wanted because she'd had to knit when John wasn't around. She chewed nervously on her lip as her husband unwrapped a pair of tiny socks, along with the tiniest of sweaters and a matching bonnet. The doctor had said May, after all, and it might still be cold.

"Merry Christmas, John." Jenny's eyes glittered over her wide smile as she watched her husband's face for a reaction.
 
Time passed, slowly and lazily. Days were spent at work (where John endured several months of good-natured teasing from Jacob about the small bruises that were sometimes visible on his throat or wrists), or visiting the Dolans, or working to maintain their small home and care for the vegetable and herb garden they'd planted. The nights were never long enough, spent in heated bouts of exploration or leisurely acts of love.

It wasn't all roses and sunshine all the time, though. All newlyweds have their quarrels, after all, as they adjust to living together. Differences of opinion or stubbornness or selfishness or pure cussedness all contributed to more than one argument. But they were no worse than most, and the reconciliations always left them sweaty and breathless.

John couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been happier.

All Hallow's Eve came and went, celebrated by a laughing trip that had started with the intention of revisiting the Castle to look for the ghost. When dawn found them, however, they were wrapped in blankets and each other. Some of the townsfolk later claimed to have heard the ghost moaning on the heights, and John had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at that.

It was a few weeks later, shortly after he returned from a week-long trip to London on business, that Jenny came down sick. For the latter half of November and on into the first weeks of December she needed a bucket by the bed for nausea. She finally visited the doctor, and returned with a curious little smile and said it was merely "women's troubles".

He wasn't sure what that meant, but it did stop bothering her soon enough.


"John..."

"Mwha?" John answered, as someone shook him gently.

"John wake up. Saint Nick came."

"thasnice," he mumbled indistinctly. Then he started to doze back off. He'd never really been a morning person, and they'd been up late for midnight mass, and...

"John wake up!"

Jenny's fingers dug into the sensitive spots on his lower back, the ones that always made him twist and thrash away because they were ticklish. "I'm up! I'm up!" he shouted, rolling away. "What's..."

Then it hit him. It was Christmas! Their very first Christmas as a family! He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and grinning. They'd gone all out, as much as they could afford, decking the ceiling with holly and rosemary and ivy, with a "kissing bush" he'd hung over the bed. That last had gotten Jenny to giggle and then gently punch him in mock outrage, which had turned into a wrestling match, which had led to a clear demonstration of the power of the kissing bush.

"Merry Christmas, Jenny!" he said, then playfully oofed as she pushed a package into his hands. It was soft, and wrapped in red paper bound with twine, and she watched nervously as he picked at the knots. "You don't need to look like that," he smiled at her. "You know I'll love it, whatever it is."

The package came open, and at first he wasn't sure what he was looking at. She'd knitted him something, for certain. Some sort of little sack, maybe, or... wait... a little sweater? And tiny socks? Why would she...?

The confusion on his face melted into shock, which mixed with a curious hope as he looked up at his wife. "This... this is... is this...?"

"Merry Christmas, John." Jenny's eyes glittered over her wide smile.

"YES!" He exploded from the bed, taking her by the hands and dancing around their bedroom as he whooped with joy. And then he stopped, looking concerned. "I mean... I shouldn't do that, right? Not in your condition. But, but..." words failed him, and he seized Jenny in a bearhug and then kissed her thoroughly. "I'm going to be a daddy! You're going to be a mom!" It sounded ridiculous, but he didn't care. "When? I mean, when will he be born, not when did it happen? I think we could guess when it happened, or maybe get a range, but..."

He forced himself to take a deep breath, eyes glittering with unshed tears of joy. Then he kissed her again. "We have to tell your parents the same way, Jenny! I want to watch your dad's face, when he finds out!"
 
"You don't need to look like that. You know I'll love it, whatever it is."

God she certainly hoped so. Of course she and John wanted children, but she didn't know if he was alright with starting so soon. They were, after all, still newlyweds and still quite young. Jenny herself would still be seventeen when the baby was born. She watched anxiously as he opened the package, an apprehensive smile lingering as one emotion on his face led to another.

"YES!"

John leapt from the bed, grabbing up Jenny and twirling her around the room with him, whooping with joy. Jenny herself laughed in joy and relief, allowing her husband to dance her around their bedroom. He stopped suddenly, looking concerned and asking whether he should do that. Jenny began to tell him it was alright, but he seized her in an enormous hug before stopping her lips with a kiss.

"I'm going to be a daddy! You're going to be a mom! When? I mean, when will he be born not when did it happen? I think we could guess when it happened, or maybe get a range, but..."

It was Jenny's turn. She stopped her husband's overjoyed babbling with a kiss. "The doctor said he or she should be here in May, maybe April." John's tears were unshed but Jenny cried shamelessly, grinning and holding herself to her husband tightly, overjoyed both at his reaction and at the fact that they were having a baby. She was pregnant!

"We have to tell your parents the same way, Jenny! I want to watch your dad's face, when he finds out!"

Jenny laughed and shook her head. "As far as Da's concerned, I'll be a virgin til the day he's put in the ground." She laughed again and kissed John's cheek. "We'll wrap it all back up; that's all I've made for now. They'll be expecting us in a couple hours for breakfast. Oh John I've been dying! It's been nearly two weeks and I haven't told anyone and it's been killing me!"
 
"He or she?" John repeated, then grinned. "Well, of course we might have a little girl. And if we do, she'll be beautiful. Just like her mother." His expression grew a little thoughtful. "And if we do, I'd like to name her for my ma." He looked slightly uncomfortable - he knew Jenny loved him, and didn't care at all about his parents. But... well, the habits of a lifetime are hard to break. "She... she was my ma, after all. And I' d like to see some... some part of her remembered for something good."

But then he was pickimg up the tiny sweater, and his mood improved immensely as he thought about the news. And Jenny laughed and agreed with how he wanted to tell her folks. "I almost wish you had told me, when you first found out. But..." he gathered her back into his arms, kissing her warmly. "Thank you for the best present I've received since our wedding day."

Then he laughed again, unable to contain his joy. "We're going to have a baby!"
 
"Well it's a 50/50 chance, isn't it?" Jenny giggled. She looked thoughtful as she considered his request to name a girl after his mother. "Well then we'll give 'er a middle name for my ma, just so no one gets their feelings hurt, aye?" She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "She'll always be remembered for something good, John. She raised a wonderful, loving, caring son into a man and gave me my husband. Nothing can ever undo that bit of good."

But then John picked up the little sweater and he was visibly cheered. Jenny looked a little cowed that he wished she had told him sooner. But then he gathered her back into his arms and thanked her again. She laughed a little and hugged him tightly back.

"Well, you did have a hand in making that present, you know." She giggled and jumped up and down excitedly. "Oh God John we're having a baby! We're gonna be parents!"

Jenny put her hands on his shoulders and jumped up and down some more. She felt like jumping on the bed, like running out into the snow in her flannel nightie and bare feet to scream to the entire town that she was going to be a mommy. Instead she kissed her husband again before digging into the trunk at the foot of their bed for warmer clothes. She only had two dresses; one for working and one for Sundays, but she had made herself coats and sweaters of varying warmths. Layering them would keep her warm even in the coldest of weather.

"The doctor said I need to keep plenty warm," she said as she dug in the trunk. "I'm still working, though! We need all the money we can get. I won't stop working til I can't stand or walk or anything anymore. And you can't do anything to stop me." She poked out her tongue petulantly before pulling off her nightie to change. She paused for a moment, looking slyly over at John before stepping over to him. Gently she took his hand and pressed it against her tummy where their child slept. Already her breasts had swelled gently and her hips took on a softer curve. It wouldn't be long before she was showing.
 
"Well of course you should keep warm! And what do you mean 'there's nothing I can do to stop you'?" John leered a little catching Jenny's arm and pulling her close. "Seems I've left you unable to stand or walk more than once."

He kissed her, then waggled his eyebrows. "Course, I couldn't walk either. But that's just the sort of sacrifice a husband has to make when teaching his wife her place..."

Jenny danced back a few steps, sticking her tongue out before pulling her nightgown over her head. Then, standing before him nude, she took his hand and placed it against her stomach. He shivered, just a little, and not from the cold. Their child slept there, and even though he knew it was his imagination he thought - or, at least, wanted to believe - that he could somehow sense the new life they had created. "A miracle," he breathed, voice filled with more reverence than he'd ever shown at church. "Our own Christmas miracle." He thought for a second, then chuckled. "Well, our own All Hallow's Eve miracle, anyway."
 
"Oh you're such a goodly husband, John Sparrow!" Jenny mocked, trying hard to keep her serious expression but failing. "Sacrificing yourself to teach me how to be a proper wife. The saints themselves never had a harder task nor more patience in doing it." She giggled before pulling off her nightgown.

When she pulled John's hand against her stomach she watched his face as he shivered. Mrs. Sparrow grinned, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as he proclaimed their child a miracle. She cupped the back of John's neck. She didn't think she had ever felt more in love with her husband than she did right now.

"Our own Christmas miracle. Well, our own All Hallow's Eve miracle, anyway."

"Don't you dare say that in front of my Da, John Sparrow, or he'll be convinced I'm birthing a witch," Jenny warned, only half teasing. She, too, had done the math and had known that their child must have been conceived that night in the castle on All Hallow's Eve, but Michael Dolan tended to be a bit more superstitious than his daughter. She didn't want to give him cause to worry.
 
"Well, our own All Hallow's Eve miracle, anyway."

"Don't you dare say that in front of my Da, John Sparrow, or he'll be convinced I'm birthing a witch," Jenny warned, only half teasing.

"I doubt it," Jack said, voice turning teasing. "Clearly, he'll believe our baby is a miraculous virgin birth..." He grinned at that, then took a moment to admire her naked figure. Ever since the weather turned and the days had grown short, he hadn't had much chance. Oh, not that they hadn't been naked together. But when there's frost on the ground and a cold, damp northern wind, they'd been slipping into bed almost fully dressed to stay warm. Nudity followed after they were warm and snug under the bolsters.

He liked what he saw. Always had, but being with child really added something to her. Made her a touch softer, a touch curvier, things he appreciated. "You're beautiful," he breathed. He pulled her close again, kissing her thoroughly. "Too bad we're due at your parent's house, soon," he murmured.
 
Jenny grinned but punched her husband's shoulder gently. "That's blasphemy, John, and I won't have you going to Hell on me. It just won't do."

She kissed his neck gently, shivering a little at the cold but kept warm by John's body. They had mostly only seen each other from the chest up when they were face-to-face in bed, and it was dark under the covers. She missed being so openly naked with her husband. They usually let the fire die down at night and piled on blankets to save on wood, but one of these nights they would have to build up a roaring fire, just so they could spend some time on each other outside of the warm safety of the blankets.

Jenny smiled as John breathed against her lips before kissing her quite thoroughly. She leaned her forehead against his and tucked a stray bit of unkempt hair behind his ear. "too bad we're due at your parents' house soon," he murmured.

"Well," Jenny's voice was just as quiet after she had given it some thought, "being pregnant, I really do get tired more quickly. And with all the excitement of Christmas and the celebration that's sure to happen with our little announcement and everything...I'm sure I'll just be exhausted by oh, say...four-ish? We'll probably have to come home early. Tragedy, really." She smiled gently as she toyed with the laces at the top of John's nightshirt, the look on her face making it clear that she planned on being "tired". Christmas celebrations at the Dolans' usually lasted well into the evening; four o'clock would certainly be calling it an early night. "Unless, of course, you think visiting would take more out of me than that? I may be too tired around three..."
 
"Yes, tragic," John echoed, working hard to keep a straight face. "A woman in your delicate condition should spend as much time in bed as possible." He kissed her then, lingeringly, the fingers of one hand trailing slowly down her spine. "But it is Christmas... xo maybe half past three?"

Then a thought struck him. "Wait.. can we? Make love, I mean. Is it safe? For the baby..?"

After a moment, he snorted as he realized the answer. "You've known for two weeks. And given how we celebrated Christmas Eve... I'm being fidiculous, aren't I?"

John kissed his wife again, then dashed to the wardrobe. He returned with a small wicker basket full of a half-dozen oranges, and a package wrspped in brown paper. "They're not so grand as your gift, bot... merry Christmas!"

Then he watched, waiting to see her reaction to the book of Irish poetry he'd found for her.
 
"Half three it is," Jenny agreed with a smile, hugging her husband gently. Then John began asking about making love before coming to his own conclusions on how safe it might be. Jenny smiled and shook her head. "There's not a ridiculous thing about you, John. The doctor said we can, but we should be gentle for a while until the baby's, y'know, bigger. Sturdier. So none of that stuff we tried on All Souls' Day, not for a while." Her smile turned to a grin as she poked John gently in the chest. It had definitely been a night of experimentation for the two that they had found not unpleasant...but most definitely would not do for the safety of the baby.

Jenny kissed John back, then as he went to the wardrobe took the opportunity to slip on her best dress, the one she kept for Sundays and holidays, but it still hung loose about her shoulders by the time he returned. For two weeks she'd been dodging questions about why she wasn't wearing her corset, why her bodice was laced so loosely, and finally she would have something to tell them. Indeed as she gently tightened the laces of her bodice it was plain to see that already it was beginning to get too small, her breasts straining the fabric up top and the fabric near her tummy bunching in strange places.

"They're not so grand as your gift, but...merry Christmas!"

"Oh John, you shouldn't have." Jenny took the oranges, eying them with delight but also a little concerned. Oranges were incredibly expensive! But it was Christmas, after all, and everyone always spent a little more. She unwrapped the second package and gasped quietly. It wasn't just a book; it was her first book. The very first book that was hers to call entirely her own.

"Oh John..." She gingerly ran her hand across the cover, as though afraid it was made of glass, before opening it to the title page. She still wasn't as great a reader as John, but much better than she had been. She read aloud the title A Collection of the Poetry of Ireland and its subtitle As Translated into English Accompanied by the Original Irish Language. Jenny looked up at her husband before throwing her arms around his neck. "John it's wonderful! It's fantastic!" She kissed him all over the face, grinning wildly. "So...maybe I can teach myself to read Irish, too?" She bounced on her toes, torn between setting the book down to finish getting ready and sitting on the bed to read.
 
John kissed his wife again, then dashed to the wardrobe. He returned with a small wicker basket full of a half-dozen oranges, and a package wrspped in brown paper. "They're not so grand as your gift, but... merry Christmas!"

"Oh John, you shouldn't have." Jenny took the oranges, eying them with delight but also a little concerned.

"I think," he grinned back, "that I can splurge just a little. It is Christmas.."

"Oh John..." She gingerly ran her hand across the cover, as though afraid it was made of glass. Then she read the title aloud. "A co... collect... collection of the poetry of Ireland, as tra... trans... translated into Englis ac... accom... accompanied by the o... or... original Irish language..."

Jenny looked up at her husband before throwing her arms around his neck. "John it's wonderful! It's fantastic!" She kissed him all over the face, grinning wildly.

"Careful, love," John teased, kissing her back. "None of that stuff we tried on All Souls' Day, remember?" He was more enjoying her reaction than anything else, but there was something about the way her figure strained the bodice of her dress and tugged against the cloth of her skirt that made his imagination wander...

Not that he'd ever needed much of an excuse for that. Not with Jenny.

"So...maybe I can teach myself to read Irish, too?" She bounced on her toes.

"That's... that's not a bad idea," John said. "And maybe, while you do, you can teach me to speak it." He hesitated, then smirked. "Well... more than just Ó, a Dhia!, tá, tá!, and fuck dom!"

Then, slapping her on the bottom (gently, with a bit of a squeeze), he went back to the wardrobe and pulled out his own best suit. The one he wore to church, or on the rare occasions when he went to London to handle negotiations for Master Christopher for certain goods. Shivering as he pulled off his nightshirt and began pulling on his smallclothes. "Oh, and Mise grá tú." He glanced back over at her. "The single most useful Irish phrase I've picked up."
 
"That's...that's not a bad idea," John said. "And maybe, while you do, you can teach me to speak it."

Jenny grinned. "I'd love to, John. And we'll teach the baby, too, when he's old enough to talk." While Jenny wanted a girl, badly, she had a feeling this time around at least her wish wouldn't be granted. She began to blush deeply as John spouted off lewd phrases he'd picked up from her, embarrassed that she actually said those things. Still, she didn't intend to stop.

Mrs. Sparrow jumped slightly when John slapped her on the rear, but giggled and grinned before continuing to get ready. She finished tightening her bodice as much as she dared before taking her comb from the nightstand and carefully picking through her long, curly hair. She sat on the bed working on pinning it back before pulling on her bonnet and smiled as John remembered one last phrase.

"Is breá liom tú ró," she returned with a warm smile. Her bonnet fastened she stood and wrapped her arms around John's neck, kissing his lips gently. "Promise me everything will always be this perfect?" She hugged her husband tightly, leaning her cheek against his chest. She knew not everything was perfect all the time, but that was okay; they had each other, they were comfortable, and they were happy. Nothing else mattered. "Soon I won't be able to hug you like this anymore," Jenny pointed out, a grin still in her voice.
 
John fiddled with his cravat, trying to get it straight. He wasn't a rich man - not when wealth was measured in coin, at least - so there was no fine lace to be worn at wrist or throat. So he made due with the best he could afford, which was still better than a farmer or day laborer. Not that there was any shame in honest work, and not tnat he wouldn't do anything needed to support Jenny and his growing child, but it was nice to be able to put aside a little.

"Will everything always be this perfect?" He smiled and held her close. "Darling, it only gets better, I promise you that. We'll have more children, and I'll add on fo the house, and I'll take over from Master Christopher when he retires, and someday we'll be surrounded by our grandchildren and even great-grandchildren."

"Soon I won't be able to hug you like this anymore," Jenny murmured into his chest.

"Maybe. But you can now. And soon enough you'll be able to hug me like this again. And hold our baby, too." He kissed her hair. "A fair trade, methinks."
 
Jenny smiled warmly as John assured her that things would be better than perfect. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren...John would run the apothecary on his own some day. They weren't rich, but they most certainly had the perfect life. She sighed contentedly before squeezing John gently and stepping away to pull on her stockings and shoes. The walk into town to her parents' house she was nearly skipping the entire way, holding John's hand and swinging their clasped hands between them, baby clothes wrapped and tucked safely under one arm.

"Merry Christmas!" Jenny let go of her husband's hand to hug first her mother then her father, followed by her brothers and Elizabeth, who was engaged to be married to Sean the following summer. She handed the squashy gift to her parents, trying to keep from exchanging excited glances with John. She didn't want to give anything away.
 
The morning was bitter, thanks to a damp easterly blowing in off the channel. John didn't care. The good news of the morning, and the effervescent joy of the woman walking beside him, conspired to leave him too happy to notice trivialieties like "cold".

Although, in fairness, some of that credit must also be given to warm socks and glove and scarf.

The Dolan home was warm and crowded, though. Jenny was pulled in with hugs and kisses, and John welcomed bt handshakes and backslaps and even a hug from Mart Dolan (who was bound and determined to show herself a good mother-in-law).

"Merry Christmas!" Jenny laughed, pressing the package into her hands. "Merry Christmas!" he boomed back, handing the package to Mary before hugging her again. "And we got the both of you something as well, and it'll be no refusing it. I remember..."

Mary gasped, holding her hand to her mouth as she stared at the unwrapped package. "Then she lunged forward, wrapping her arms about Jenny." "My dearest Jenny!" she sobbed out, voice sounding like laughter. "I'm so happy for you both!"
 
"Refusing what?" Jenny started to frown, but her mother lunged upon her before she could say anything else, laughing and crying at the same time. Jenny laughed and hugged her back. "Ma! You weren't supposed to open it yet!" But the grin on her face gave away that she just didn't care.

"Eh?" Michael looked a bit confused, not having seen the unwrapped package. From her tight hug Mary held out the bundle to her husband, who held up a tiny sock with two fingers, staring at it as though concentrating on a puzzle. "Jenny, what--?"

"Congratulations!" Elizabeth lunged forward to join the hug.

"A...baby?" Mr. Dolan's face broke into a slow grin as the pieces clicked together. "Jenny you're...? That's fantastic!" He laughed heartily and wrapped his wide, strong arms tightly around the women before shaking John's hand, then pulling him into a hug. "Congratulations! Wonderful news!" Each of Jenny's bother's took their turns congratulating John and shaking his hand, waiting to hug their sister and wish her a merry Christmas as well but Mary and Elizabeth wouldn't let go.
 
The look of utter shock on everyone's face was all that John had hoped it would be. But Michael Dolan shaking his hand enthusiastically and then hugging him? Well... John still thought of him as the gruff and terrifying obstacle to the time he was able to spend with Jenny, even after nine months of marriage. But now..?

Now he didn't know what to think.

Mr. Dolan half-led half-dragged him into the living room. "Give the women space, lad," he advised. "Odds are we'll be breakfasting late. They'll want to coo for a while."

He poured two small glasses of brandy, and pushed one into John's slightly numb hand. "Congratulations, the both of you." He raised his glass, and both men drank. "When did she tell you?"

"Ah, this morning. Gave me that same gift, wrapped for Christmas."

Michael laughed. "Aye, that's a Dolan lass for ye. And wasn't it me own Mary, told me she was a-carryin' Sean by by askin' me sweet as ye like tomake her a wee cradle." He smiled at the memory, then glanced at John's expression and laughed. "Or did ye think I'd have your nadgers fer gettin' me wee Jenny pregnant?"

John shrugged. "The thought had crossed my mind, sir."

"None of this 'sir'. Pa will do, or Michael if'n you cannae find it to vall me Pa." He poked John in the chest. "Now, dinnae get me wrong... a year ago, an' I'da cut yer balls off meself. But... well, you're her husband, an' you've treated her right, and just because she'll always be my little girl don't mean she's any sort of little girl at all."

John laughed, filled with gladness and relief in equal measure. "Merry Christmas... Pa."
 
The men retreated to the sitting room while Mary dragged her daughter and soon-to-be daughter-in-law to the kitchen to talk and help get the food ready. As they passed Jenny spotted her father pouring a couple of glasses of Brandy and shook her head. Drinking at nine o'clock in the morning, for shame. Though it was a special occasion in more than one way.

Christmas Day passed cheerfully, with much celebration and by the time three-thirty rolled around Jenny was almost certainly the only one who wasn't at least pleasantly inebriated. But as promised around the agreed-upon time she became "tired" and led John home to pass the night in heated pleasure. New Years Eve passed similarly, as did St. Valentine's Day and Easter. The following week Jenny woke her husband with a gentle kiss.

"Happy Anniversary, John," she murmured, kissing his cheek.

Jenny was a month or two away from when the baby was expected to arrive and her tiny frame had swollen to what seemed a disproportionately huge size. Her father had threatened several times to make her start staying home from work, and she was beginning to believe he might do just that very soon. She winced slightly and, when she was sure he was awake, grabbed his hand and gently put it against her growing belly. At the feel of its father's hand the baby pressed its tiny foot out against John's palm. Mrs. Sparrow looked at her husband with a broad grin, practically glowing.
 
"Happy anniversary, Jenny," John murmured back, rolling onto his side to hug her. That hadn't proved to be the logistical nightmare he'd feared it might, although her belly (and their child) got in the way and necessetated some creativity. Which, he considered, might continue to be the way of things once the baby was born.

He chuckled, and kissed her back. "I'm still the luckiest man in Dover, Jennifer Sparrow."

She responded by grabbing his hand and putting it on her stomach. By reflex he began to gently rub - belly and back rubs seemed to make the soreness she complained of from time to time (and probably felt more often than she complained of) better. And then...

Then he felt something. Like.. "That... that was her, wasn't it?" He laughed, feeling tears in the corner of his eye. He slid down her side, cheek against her stomach. "Hi, there," he whispered. "It's daddy!"

This time, the little foot caught him in the cheekbone.
 
"Well then I'm the luckiest woman, John Sparrow," Jenny returned with a grin. She sighed in relief as he began to rub her belly. She was tired and sore almost all the time these days, though she tried to hide it most of the time. John seemed to have a sense about these things, though, and always obliged at the best of times.

"That...that was her, wasn't it?"

Jenny grinned, watching the expression on her husband's face, and nodded. "Yeah John. That was her." She laughed with him, pulling her nightdress up as he slid down her side. She loved it when he touched her belly, when he pressed his face to it, to be closer to their child.

"Hi, there. It's daddy!" She couldn't help but chuckle at his gentle whisper, then laugh more loudly when the baby's foot caught him in the cheek.

"He just gets excited whenever he hears Daddy," Jenny giggled, running her hand through John's hair. It was her habit to switch off pronouns for the baby. They had names picked out already, of course, but they wouldn't know the gender until the baby was born. "You should feel her whenever you walk in the door after work. She's like one of those acrobats in the circus." If John's cheek was still there, he would feel the baby's head against it, accompanied by a hand. "Mm...Baby Bird's getting ready to leave the nest," Jenny smiled, putting her hand on the top of her belly. "Just wish he wouldn't toss about so much while he's shiftin' about though."
 
"Mm...Baby Bird's getting ready to leave the nest," Jenny smiled, putting her hand on the top of her belly.

"What?" John squawked. "Now?"

The amused look on Jenny's face answered that question, and he flopped back down on the bed with his heart thundering in his chest. "No, I guess not. Not with what little your ma and the midwife's let me learn about what to expect, at least."

"Just wish he wouldn't toss about so much while he's shiftin' about though."

"Gettin restless, I'd imagine," John answered, crawling back up to stretch out next to his wife. "Cramped, too."

He poked her playfully in the side. "Which reminds me... you really need to explain to your ma that, even if I'm not supposed to be in the room when you're deliverin', I should know what to watch for. If for no other reason than to keep me from standing around looking dumb and sayin' 'now? You sure?'"
 
Jenny couldn't help but laugh at the look on John's face as he thought she meant now. Once he had figured it out she only chuckled and ran her hand through his hair as he crawled back up next to her, suggesting the baby was getting restless and cramped. She giggled and squirmed as he poked her.

"Well, s'far as they've told me we'll know when it's time," she assured him. "Apparently it's quite...well, painful." Jenny looked worried and pressed her face into his chest.

"John...I'm excited to have this baby but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was scared." Jenny had long given up on reaching around her belly to wrap her arms around John's middle. Instead she draped her arm over his shoulder. "I um...well, I'm not big for pain. Not that type of pain, anyway." She grinned wryly and nudged him gently. It was only recently the intimacy had dwindled; these days Jenny often felt unattractive or too tired. But they had otherwise continued their "experimenting" within the privacy of their bedroom. There was a twinge as she shifted, but she paid little mind; she'd been feeling occasional contractions recently, and one false alarm, but otherwise she ignored them.
 
John pulled her close as he could, while she talked about her fears. "I don't blame you," he said. "Not one bit." Then his eye twinkled as he nudged her back. "Course, that kind of pain was... what? Me smacking your butt, a few times? That and a little hair pulling?" Which, to be honest... damn. Neither one of them had been prepared for just how wild that little bit of aggressive play could get.

He settled down, trying to let her get comfortable. "I just wish I could do it for you, Jenny. Doesn't seem right, me getting to have all the fun and then watch you do all the work." A grin as he tapped her on the nose. "Well, not that you didn't have any fun yourself, but you know what I mean."

Lying back, one hand resting on her swollen abdomen, he thought. "And everything I know that can help with pain...? It's too dangerous to give to children." He sighed, sadly. "If you can think of anything I can do, you tell me. You shouldn't have to face this by yourself."
 
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