&fic;

 

Linger Long

by sugargroupie

NC-17, 1893 words

Summary: the joy is bitter in her mouth.

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to Stargate: Atlantis or its characters.

Notes: post Siege 3 AU, some spoilers through season two. Written for Atomicpagan in the Sheppard/Weir Ficathon. Requests are listed at the end. Many thanks to Shannon for the beta. Mistakes remain mine and feedback is appreciated.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

The sudden applause from the gate room catches Elizabeth mid-laugh, and she hastily swipes the wetness from her eyes before following Teyla out of her office. She takes in the large crowd first -- military and civilians mingling over Athosian wine, Earth issue liquor and whatever food scrounged from the mess -- and wonders if she should have hid the alcohol instead of allowing everyone to start the party early. But with all of the events from the last six months still fresh in her memory, she thinks it's better this way; a downtime that is richly deserved.

Her eyes fix immediately on the center, holding the guest of honor and his escort, accepting handshakes and whistled greetings being drowned out by boisterous cheers.

Teyla reaches the landing first, heading for the stairs even as she directs a wide smile at Elizabeth. "Lieutenant Ford and Colonel Sheppard have returned from their journey."

The young woman seems to catch Ford's eye and nods in greeting before melding easily into the crowd to meet the newcomers. Elizabeth follows at a slower pace, smiling at the giddy energy infusing the room, everyone grounding themselves in Ford's arrival because there's been so little to celebrate lately.

After the first attack, the entire crew knew of the young Marine's efforts to fight against the Wraith stimuli invading his system. Life in the city had returned to its own brand of normalcy by the time Ford was well enough to return to earth for a several months' long quarantine. The news of his return was like a shot of adrenalin, boosting morale, acting as a beacon of hope. Another victory unclaimed by the Wraith.

Elizabeth is happy that Ford is back, she really is, but her gaze finds John and she starts as anticipation slams into reality. He's here, he's back, he's safe, try to ignore him, she chants in her head. Her eyes linger just a bit too long, and she wonders if the entire city notices.

*

John meets her halfway with a smirk lifting his mouth and two drinking glasses in his hands. "Thanks." She accepts the wine, taking an eager drink, needing something to do with her hands and mouth to mask the awkwardness she feels.

"Missed me?"

Elizabeth laughs and the nerves settle in her belly. Her smile is slow, savoring the moment. "Colonel, I can't believe you--"

"Doctor Weir." Ford interrupts with a wide grin, vivid and intoxicating at the same time.

Elizabeth lifts her glass to the Marine. "Welcome back Lieutenant."

"Thank you, ma'am, it's good to be back." Ford literally bounces with excitement as he takes a gulp from his own glass and absently touches the patch covering his eye. "I never thought I'd see this place again."

"Well, you were missed."

"I appreciate that."

"Alright, enough with the small talk," John cuts in. "It's a party, go have fun. Tomorrow it's back to work."

"Yes sir," Ford says and slaps John's shoulder once before giving Elizabeth a departing smile.

"That wasn't subtle at all," she accuses with humor.

"Subtlety is overrated," John dismisses. "Besides, I think he wants to spend more time with Teyla anyway."

"Hmm..."

"So what happened to the banner and cake?"

"I thought alcohol would be better put to use."

"Still... you can't have a welcome back party without cake. It's not right."

"I'll be sure to remember it next time." She rolls her eyes. "How was the trip back?"

"Long, but interesting."

Elizabeth angles her head, quirks her lips. "How so?"

"Spent most of the time helping Ford decide on a new nickname to match his eyewear." They both glance at Ford talking to Teyla.

"You are incorrigible."

John lifts one shoulder. "Hey, it's not me. The pirate thing works for him."

"And he's still no better at naming things?"

The absolute worse. But he's adjusting well. He's a good kid, a good soldier."

"Spoken like a proud parent."

"More like an older brother."

Elizabeth laughs. "That too."

*

She's not sure how much time has passed, just that it's later and she's in a dark room with John's hand under her shirt.

The wall is a comforting pressure at her back and she shuts her eyes to keep the dizziness at bay. She's high; off the wine, the mood, the company. His hand slides beneath her breast, thumb pressing into the delicate skin like a holding pattern, drawing lazy circles that incline her to beg.

John's lips brush hers and Elizabeth holds an excitable breath, like every new thing she encounters. It's not something she thinks she'll ever get used to, kissing Sheppard; laying claim to his lips when she has no right. His mouth is hot and sweet and she deepens the kiss until they break free with the need to breathe. The familiarity of his mouth, his skin, scares her.

The abrupt brightness of the room blinds them both.

"Oh bloody hell," Carson yelps in surprise from the entrance. "You scared the crap out of me. What are the two of you doing in here?"

John steps in front of Elizabeth and clears his throat. "We were--"

"Discussing the wine. It's very strong," she states quietly. "Excuse me."

The doctor watches Elizabeth leave and turns back to Sheppard with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry lad, hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Nothing and everything," John sighs.

*

John finds her lurking in the shadows near quarters, struggling for composure and attempting to recoup the distance she wears like armor. He takes her hand, crosses the empty corridor into his room and seals them inside.

Elizabeth leans against the pillar in the middle of the room and waits for him to close the space between them. She's laying out the terms, expects him to kiss and fuck her hard against the wall and then spend the whole night talking like best friends.

He does, on occasion, make love to her -- only to be gone the next morning. She figures it's a fair trade.

Make it just about sex and make these feelings go away, she thinks. And when the kiss comes, it's slow and gentle and she gives in without hesitation.

Removing both their headsets and tossing them to the floor, she wraps her arms around his waist and pulls him close until he's pressing against her, crushing her breasts into his chest. She shivers as his hands thread through her hair; smiles into the kiss because he loves playing in the longer mass of curls.

Her fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt and she tugs up and over his arms and head, dropping it to the floor. She presses her lips to his chest, his hair tickling her mouth and fingers and she sucks whatever patches of warm skin she can reach. She explores the scars sprinkling his skin with her tongue and John rubs himself against her hip.

Elizabeth tilts her head back and it makes a thumping sound against the wall, causing her to break out in giggles. "You okay?" he murmurs against the soft skin of her throat, brushing kisses along the way.

"Yes," her answer is breathless, but now she can't stop smiling. "I'm tougher than I look." There's a pause before the last word as John grinds against her again.

Soon there's only the sound of wet kisses and panting breaths as they strip down to their underwear. Flinging her bra behind him, John suddenly lifts Elizabeth higher against the wall and she wraps her legs around his waist. His cock is a hard fullness massaging her center, hips rocking back and forth and she moans into his ear.

He gets off on the teasing, how she stops just short of begging without opening her mouth, and if she didn't get off on it as well they never would've made it this far.

Nuzzling her nose against his cheek, Elizabeth leans forward to slip her tongue in his mouth, licking and nipping playfully until he moves away with a chuckle. She pulls at the band on his underwear and the material snaps against his skin, causing a wicked grin to cover her face.

"Watch it." His voice is low in her ear.

Warm hands delve beneath his underwear and she grabs onto his ass to hold him there. "Stop teasing me."

"You love it," he whispers and runs his hands along the curves of her hips to cup her full breasts in his palms. He leans forward to suckle her nipple and she's bound by the wet heat of his mouth, the strength of his hands and the weight of his body teasing her into a quick release.

Her breath catches on his name and she buries her face in his shoulder. She guides his face up and gives him a deep kiss, sweeping her tongue along the contours of his mouth, tasting his eagerness; wondering if he can sense her desperation.

Elizabeth unfolds her legs and touches both feet to the floor, taking her time kissing his mouth and the stubble on his chin. Callused fingers peel her panties away before John tackles his own underwear, and then he's leading her over to his bed. He falls backward and she straddles his lap, bracing her hands behind her on his thighs for purchase. She slides her ass across his arousal, gifts him with a quick flash of white teeth.

He's whispering her name like a secret and she stares into his hooded eyes, raises her hips and glides down, taking him inside her body. She cants her pelvis forward and down again until he's balls deep and allows her eyes to close and sink into the moment. John splays her spine with one hand and the other claims the back of her neck, brings her forward until their lips touch. His kiss is reverent and slow as Elizabeth begins to move in a steady rhythm and twines her hands through his to grip her waist. She thrusts down, flowing into his strokes until sweat decorates their skin. His fingers add a slow pressure to her center -- increases with her rhythm until she shudders and breaks apart, and he slams into her one last time and follows her over the edge.

*

"You never asked me what kind of cake I wanted."

Elizabeth is sated and boneless in the bed when John speaks, breath soft and warm against her neck. He has her trapped under his body, an arm draping her belly, one leg covering her thighs; she can't move even if she wants to.

She drops a kiss on his shoulder and yawns quietly. "I assumed you were talking about cake for Ford, therefore it wouldn't matter what kind you wanted."

"All the adventures my team gets into off-world? I think I deserve some cake, Elizabeth."

She laughs and turns her head to meet his mouth in a soft kiss. Sometimes she thinks it would be easier to fill up and overdose on John Sheppard, just to purge him from her system. Her life would be much simpler, less chaotic. And then she remembers this thing between them; friendship and sex, pushing and pulling to become something more and remain less.

He draws her closer, tempers the kiss and she feels languid and hopeful, but the joy is slightly bitter in her mouth.

*

 

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atomicpagan requested anyone's previously unmentioned luxury item, non-whacked out Ford, and smut.