2165 CE

"Daddy, tell us a story," a small voice implored.

A sturdy, dark haired man sat in a meadow surrounded by his three children. John Shepard smiled at the smallest, a golden haired girl with the same cornflower eyes he possessed. His eyes moved toward the setting sun, obviously gauging how much time he had before his wife would have dinner on the table. Hannah didn't take kindly to having her dinner grow cold.

"Just a short one," he agreed, grinning. "What do you want to hear about?"

"The First Contact War!" Cried his oldest, thirteen year old Blake, excitedly.

"Princesses!" Inserted the youngest, eight year old Ana.

"What about you, Alex?" He chuckled, glancing at his middle child, eleven years old with a mop of auburn hair that she'd inherited from her maternal grandmother. She looked up from her book thoughtfully.

"I want to know about Earth," she finally said in her serious, quiet voice, surprising John.

"You do?" He asked, both touched and awed. She nodded, grinning and setting her book aside, bringing her knobby little knees up to her chest.

His son scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Earth is boring, Dad!"

"I wanna hear about Princesses," whined Ana. John only smiled, pulling the youngest into his lap and gesturing for Alex to come closer.

"Earth is not boring." He gave his eldest a pointed look, "Your Momma and I were born there in a state called Kansas. That's where we learned to farm. Your Granddad Henry taught me and my brother, your Uncle James—"

"He fought in the First Contact War!" Blake interjected excitedly, sitting on his knees. When his father gave him a warning look, the impish teen did not even have the nerve to look sheepish. He only grinned cheekily.

"He did," John conceded patiently, "Earth was my home." He raised his eyebrows at Blake, "It was your home too, son. Earth is in our blood."

"Is it pretty?" Ana asked, with wide blue eyes. Alex rolled her eyes at this, swiping agitatedly at her unruly red hair.

"What a dumb question," she scowled.

"Parts of it are beautiful," John nodded, "The sunrise coming over the cornfields was like seeing the rays of Heaven touch Earth. There are rainforests with tropical flowers and the brightest colors and in the winter, there's snow. White and sparkling like diamonds. You know the song 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas?'"

The children nodded.

"That's what that's about," John continued, "Some of my best memories are me and Uncle Jimmy playing in the snow as kids. Making snow angels."

"It doesn't snow here," Alex sighed, "I want to see snow."

"Someday," John promised her, "When you guys are a little bigger, we'll take a trip back to Earth and you'll see snow. We'll go for Christmas." Her eyebrows rose, but she nodded enthusiastically, giving him a grin and revealing teeth that were just slightly too big for her mouth.

Hannah was practically seething when they returned to the house, just as the light began to slip below the horizon. Her green eyes were blazing as the kids brushed past her, simmering with energy from the walk back.

"Go wash your hands for supper," she instructed, giving her husband a stern glance. John noticed something catch her eye before she stopped Alexandra and attempted to tame the messy mane of fiery hair.

"Momma!" Alex groaned, messing it back up and bounding in the direction her siblings had gone.

"Brush that hair before dinner, Alexandra!" Hannah sighed. "Full of bruises again, I see," she noted, meeting John's blue eyes. He shrugged, reaching for her.

"You know how those two are. Hardly a day goes by where they don't wrestle," he chuckled, pulling her into his arms. She didn't resist, though her eyes were still full of irritation. "Thing is, Blake's been underestimating her. She's gonna beat his ass one of these days."

"John…" Hannah scoffed, but he thought he saw her lips quirk up for a second. "She's such a tomboy, that one."

"Sure is," he agreed proudly. "I'll keep her that way as long as I can. Pretty soon, she's going to grow into her looks and I'm gonna have to sit on the porch with my rifle."

"Chauvinist," She smacked his arm. "Well, you might as well go wash up for dinner too. It's your own fault it's gone cold." She stood on her toes to give him a quick kiss and started back toward the kitchen.

"Hannah," he called after her, making her pause in the doorway, silhouetted by the last of the daylight. "In a few years, I think we should go home for Christmas. Back to Kansas. So the kids can see where we come from. Alex wants to see snow…"

"John…that's money we just don't have," Hannah said sympathetically, "We'd have to start saving now."

"So, let's do it," He urged, crossing to her and taking her shoulders into his hands. "We could visit our parents' graves. You could see your sister. The new baby…Ryan."

"I don't know…" She looked torn, clearly conflicted between being realistic and the need to see her sister Kate. It had been over a decade since she'd last seen her only remaining family. John pouted his lower lip at her, causing her to laugh, despite herself. "Oh, you big baby…fine. We'll save up and take the kids home for Christmas." Her green eyes narrowed, "In a few years."

"You're my favorite wife," he grinned, stooping to press his lips to her. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway, grabbing him by the collar.

"Disgusting!" Their son's voice came from behind them. They both chuckled, pulling apart and turning to see all three children standing near the stairs. Alex shoved Blake unceremoniously, stalking away from him with Ana close in tow.

"Grow up," She told him, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Very mature," Hannah smirked in amusement, following the girls into the kitchen. "Wash your hands, John!" She added over her shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at her back, winking at his son and ruffling the boy's hair as he moved to clean up for supper.