Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just playing. I'll put'em back when I'm done.

Rating: G

Synopsis: Family fluff. Nothing more.

The only sounds in Command were the sounds that Moya made. Maybe they were the sounds that the DRDs made too, but they were a part of Moya. So essentially, whatever sound arose in any given room or corridor on Moya that was not made by her house guests was Moya herself.

John smiled a little at the thought, at the silence, the quiet. It had been quiet for so long, he was beginning to believe that perhaps this time it would last. He had always been full of foolish dreams, full of naive meanderings that could drive the light of his life to distraction at times. But she always forgave him and he just went on loving her. How could he not?

His gaze settled on her, on her straight back, on the long, black braid hanging between her shoulder blades, the end of it reaching past her waistline. She was wearing a black tanktop and her shoulders and arms were tanned. She had developed a taste for the sun, although it shouldn't be too hot. But she tanned well, looked great with the bronze tone on her skin. Her hair remained black, dark-brown in the sun, and he had to catch himself so he would not lose his wandering mind in the thought of her. Having her in real life was so much better.

His gaze shifted down her right side, down to the sling, black as well, crossing over her back up to her left shoulder where the knot was, neatly tied in such a way that it would never come undone. In the sling, a weight which would undoubtably have made many Earth-females lean away from it to distribute it better, sat the miracle they had both feared would never be. One little leg, slightly chubby as such legs should be, protruded from the sling, one little black boot positioned securely on the slight rounding of her mother's behind. One little hand, fingers a little less chubby than a fully human child's hand would be, was securely curled into the fabric of her mother's tanktop, and as always, her deep-blue gaze was locked on what her mother was doing while her thumb was secured between her lips.

He stepped up beside them and looked straight ahead, his gaze on the viewscreen without really seeing it. Then he turned his head and glanced first at the mother. She continued to work, but her lips were stretched slightly in a weak smile.

Then he glanced down at their little miracle and for the umpteenth time marveled at the fact that this tiny being with her big blue eyes and her coppery skin was a part of him. She looked up at him when he looked down at her and her lips spread into a wide smile around the thumb in her mouth, a smile that put stars in her eyes and roses on her cheeks. Untamable curls, a darker brown than his hair but lighter than her mother's framed a face that looked older than she was. Half Sebacean, she was growing faster than a fully Human child, but slower than a fully Sebacean one.

He reached out and ruffled her hair and she leaned into his hand, her lids sliding shut. And never once did her thumb come out of her mouth.

Aeryn glanced at him, then shrugged out of the sling and handed her daughter over to him. He in turn shrugged into the sling, positioned the toddler on his hip much like Aeryn had and then glanced back at the mother of his child. "You okay?"

She nodded with a quiet uh-hm. Then she glanced back at him and smirked. "You?"

"Never better," he replied, kissed her once and turned to leave.

"Where are you two going?" She didn't turn, only asked the question in that quiet way she'd adopted after giving birth to their little miracle.

"Maintenance bay four. I've got some work to do," he replied and glanced down at his little bundle of joy. "You don't mind, do you?" The baby smiled around her thumb and cuddled against her father. He closed his eyes, relished the feeling, then met his wife's gaze when he felt her intense stare on him.

"She's a strange child," Aeryn said with an affectionate smile and nothing but wonder in her eyes.

John curved an arm around Ayla's back and smiled too. "I've never met a baby that didn't cry," he agreed. "I guess we must be doing something right," he added and the smile became a grin.

Aeryn returned his grin. "Don't let her touch anything," she said and returned to her station.

"As if she ever would," he countered and reached out to give her arm a squeeze before he left Command again with Ayla sitting on his hip. This light, miraculous child of his, this little wonder. She never made a sound and she grew up so fast. Her little hand was now hooked securely into the back of his t-shirt, her little foot resting against his back, while her thumb was in her mouth and her eyes took in everything her father did. She smiled brightly when she saw her parents, she hugged, she kissed, she was even walking a little now. But she never made a sound.