Barefoot
Author: wanderingsmith
May 2008
Summary: This is a new low
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
AN: it was anuna_81! really! she said 'BARE FEET' to me!
Goto Chapter 2: ...In the kitchen
Chapter one: Barefoot
Elizabeth was standing next to the gate talking to the newly-arrived
Major Lorne when the gate started dialing again.
"Unscheduled offworld activation!"
She moved away from the ramp, letting the major stand in front of her
as they waited for the rest of the technician's information.
"It's Colonel Sheppard, Ma'am, coming in hot!"
"Drop the shield!" she stepped aside as she spoke to see the gate more
clearly as the soldiers all cocked their weapons.
It only took a few seconds before John's team flew through the gate,
landing rolling down the ramp.
"Shield up!!" John was yelling as he rolled, finally coming to a stop
in front of Elizabeth's legs.
Elizabeth looked down in concern, "Are you alright, colonel?"
"Yeahhhh," John grumbled, staying on his back at her feet as he caught
his breath, "We are *never* going back there again! Why do I even do
this for a living again?"
Elizabeth's instinctive inspection for injuries on his body stopped in
fascination as her eyes fell on his bare feet. "Err, John? Did you
change the footwear regulation without telling me?"
He turned his eyes from his self-pitying look at the ceiling to glare
at her rebelliously, lips stubbornly closed.
Elizabeth tore her eyes back to his with a blink at his silence,
hearing Teyla start to speak before she could question him. "Before
they turned upon us, we were trying to negotiate with the the natives
and they..." she stopped to control the laugh that had started shaking
her voice, "The natives believe men should remain barefoot and in
the..." the gateroom gaped as the usually self-contained Athosian
started laughing out loud, unable to complete her report.
Elizabeth looked at the other members' of John's team, getting around
to noticing the complete lack of male footwear. Ronon was smirking with
his usual twisted sense of humour and perfectly comfortable on bare
feet, giving her a wink before going to help Teyla straighten from her
bent-over holding-her-stomach guffaws. McKay, on the other hand, looked
downright mutinous as he picked himself up and gingerly stepped away,
glaring at everyone.
When she dropped her eyes back on her military 'commander', somehow her
eyes skipped down from his slowly rising upper body.. right back to
those bare feet.
"Elizabeth?" his familiar, slightly hesitant drawl forced her attention
up. Meeting laughing eyes that rose above her as he finally got himself
up, since she wasn't paying him any attention anyway.
Before he could say a word, she snapped herself out of the very strange
daze and stepped back sharply. "You need to see the doctor, colonel,
those scrapes look unpleasant. I'll expect your mission debrief in 2
hours." She nodded to him and spun away, trying to fill her mind with
the treaty she was supposed to be writing. To push out the completely
strange images flooding it.
Since when did pale, muddy, scratched size 10 feet with muddier pant
hems draped on them make her forget she was in the middle of the
gateroom? And why did a completely inappropriate urge to change the
footwear regulations herself scamper through her thoughts??
She groaned as she reached the safety of her office. His *feet*,
Elizabeth?? This is a new low.
Title: Chapter two: ...In the
kitchen
May 2008
Summary: A late night conversation
AN: Where are all
these stories coming from??
1:30
That was it! When she started looking at a clock more than every 5
minutes, she refused to stay in bed.
She was bleary-eyed with tiredness as she cinched her warm, fluffy,
man-sized bathrobe around her waist. She *wanted* to sleep; her brain
simply refused to cooperate. Every time she tried to relax, she started
thinking of... Oh for the love of!
She grumbled under her breath, hurrying out of her quarters toward the
mess hall. She'd done this often enough over the years to know that she
might meet the odd scientist on the way, but that no one would care
what you looked like at this time of night. An unvoiced agreement that
all night-walkers were allowed to be fallible humans.
As she approached the kitchen, her head was so heavy she kept it bent
down to rest it, eyes half-closed, merely watching for toe-stubbing
obstacles. Just before she should have encountered the counters... she
instead faced the very limbs that had been keeping her awake.
Cleaned of mud, the scratches glowed on the pale skin; clearly
delimited tendons and solid muscle of ankle and leg exposed by...
Elizabeth jerked her head up as *John*(!) stepped up to her with a
grin. How long had she... "If you keep staring at my feet that way
Elizabeth Weir, you're going to give me a blown head."
It was her turn to grin, or try to. The yawn that she barely had the
reflexes to cover rather took her usual zip out of it. Which left John
completely unfazed and outright laughing at her.
Since she hardly had a defence to offer, she just sighed and started to
move toward the fridge until he put his hands on her shoulders and
gently reoriented her toward the nearest table and chairs. "I think it
would be best if you sat down, doctor." Blinking scratchy eyes at the
man taking care of her, she let herself be sat down on a chair meekly.
"Now, what was it you were after? Dare I hope warm milk or sleepy-tea?"
"Milk."
"Uhu. Good girl." He smirked when that sparked her dormant energy
enough to break out a glare as he turned away and swaggered back to the
stove.
Well if he was going to make it *that* easy... She leaned back in the
chair and watched her fill. His hair was such a mess he had to have
tried to sleep before coming here and the loose shirt was literally
ragged along the edges and looked incredibly soft. Worn BDUs that
conformed to tight buttocks and muscled thighs, with rolled-up hems
that exposed more of the feet she'd gotten fixated on.
As he went back to stirring the pot he'd already had on the burner, she
got her tongue back. "Are you practising for your next trip to the
matriarchs, colonel?"
He rolled his eyes, turning to shake a finger at her, "I am *never*
going back there, boss. No way, jose. Send Cadman and Teyla. For that
matter, Ronon looked like he was amused; he can go along as their
bodyguard/slave."
"I don't see the problem colonel, being barefoot and in the kitchen
doesn't seem to bother you..."
"Elizabethhhh!" John very occasionally wished he was better at
resisting her teasing. But it was such an easy way to get her to smile
at him. She enjoyed playing with him, and getting flustered on a
regular basis was a price he was more than happy to pay to know he
could give her that.
'Course, if he could manage to make her blush one day... he grinned as
he poured the milk into mugs. And she'd handed him such nice ammo today.
He took the chair across from her, watching silently as she took a sip
and then closing his eyes to enjoy the quiet of the night, hearing the
quiet breathing of the woman sitting with him. These peaceful moments
were just too rare. When she put her cup down, he opened his eyes,
watching her drowse and debating whether to tease her or escort her to
bed.
She caught him watching and smiled; not quite the teasing one, but
still. He tried to keep his face steady as he sat back and gently
stretched his leg so his foot landed on her lap.
She gaped at him in shock, not even twitching. "Well, you did keep
looking," he shrugged, "Thought you might like to satisfy your
curiosity." Still keeping his poker face, he sat back and pretended to
close his eyes
Elizabeth had just been relaxing, feeling warm and drowsy, mind busy
with at least more than feet. That old tingling warmth and the
comforting strength she felt when she relaxed near John, scent and
whole-body sight of her friend. This, she was used to. This, she could
sleep with. Catching that affectionate, slightly seductive, look on his
face, she smiled; her world as safe and good as it got.
She just had time to notice the change in him and start to analyze it
when she felt the unfamiliar weight land in her lap. With her
unfortunate fascination of the day she didn't need to guess what it was
but....
She knew he was grinning inside, knew John *that* well at least. If
she'd had a good comeback, she'd have used it, as it was... She grinned
slowly; she knew John. And there was one way guarantied to throw him.
Taking a last, deliberately casual, sip of her drink, his foot rubbed
into her stomach as she bent over the table. And his heel rested right
between her thighs. She pretended not to notice the stiffening of his
leg. Instead, she leaned back and wrapped her hands around his ankle,
content with the way his jaw clenched, hands tightening around his mug.
Since he managed to resist opening his eyes, she dropped hers to her
lap.
Her hands massaged the ankle and heel, rough from too much time walking
in army boots. Letting her eyes half-close and relaxing back as she
moved her hands along the foot. "You really managed to get scratched up
nicely didn't you? Carson look all this over?" she asked quietly,
carefully smoothing the deeper breaks in the skin while trying to avoid
tickling.
Teasing forgotten, John was enjoying the care. Ignoring the effect her
touch was having on his body. His eyes honestly closed now as he
replied just as quietly, "They're fine. Clean and cool. Don't worry."
Elizabeth nodded, accepting his words. Feeling for herself that there
was no fever and the scabs were smooth. She smiled as she reached the
toes, massaging each one and noting the few stiff hairs growing on
them. It was strange to know such small intimate facts about a man she
didn't live with. On the other hand, their relationship wasn't simple
and already included little intimacies, albeit unspoken ones. Eyes did
not 'speak'. They *shared*; but they did not 'speak'.
When she was done her impromptu massage, she smoothed her hands back to
his ankle in one move. Considering he'd come in here to make himself
hot milk, she was glad to see the complete relaxation on John's face.
However, he wasn't about to get an excuse to call her the 'little
woman'. Holding his ankle to control the jostling, she shifted until
her own foot landed on his lap.
She kept her reaction to an almost-controlled blink when her heel
landed on unmistakably aroused flesh. You 'had' been massaging him,
Elizabeth. It was a normal reaction to relaxation.
None of which stopped the answering pulse within her. She could only
hope it was reasonably under cover when his eyes flew open and his
hands wrapped around her heel, lifting her off the evidence. "Fair is
fair, colonel."
John knew damned well that *she* knew what she'd landed on... but it
looked like she wasn't going to make an issue of it, so he just relaxed
and followed his orders. Looking at what he was doing, he gently
massaged the white, unblemished, Lady's foot. He couldn't help a small
smirk when he heard her sigh contentedly. He went back and forth over
the sole, memorizing another small part of her body he'd gotten to see.
And touch, mustn't forget touch. Small ticklish toes, carefully
smoothed heel, soft soft skin. When he felt the urge to kiss a
wriggling toe he had to grin, "I think I'm starting to understand the
fascination, doctor."
The official designation was a reminder of the distance they needed to
keep. This surreal moment out of time was just that. When he looked up,
they shared a rueful look and looked away from each other as they
pulled their respective feet back.
He got up, taking both their empty mugs to the sink and cleaning them
silently. The fact that he'd just stood up in front of his boss while
sporting a hard-on just wasn't a consideration at this point.
When he turned back to the table, she'd been watching him, half-drowsy
and half-interested. Unfortunately, he was hardly in a position to say
anything about interest, so he just grinned and walked to her, offering
her a hand up. "Come on, Elizabeth, time for bed."
Slipping an arm around her waist when she stumbled, he frowned, "When
was the last time you slept a full night?"
She shook her head without bothering to look up at him, or answer,
instead accepting the supporting arm as they walked to her quarters.
"'Lizabeth," he muttered, mostly to himself. Wasting a minute wishing
he was in a position to make *sure* she stayed in bed. His lips
tightened in old annoyance at the idiots who ran the world they came
from. This stupid way of doing things was neither healthy nor helpful.
But as long as Elizabeth believed in it... he'd long accepted that his
place was supporting her and that that, was that.
Reaching her door, Elizabeth stepped away from him, knowing from
experience that after such a large dose of new sensations her mind
would literally rock *itself* to sleep enjoying them, regardless of
milk.
Opening her door, she turned to John, catching the weary expression he
tried to shift away. When she didn't say anything right away he raised
a brow in question, but she didn't know *what* to say. It wasn't just
the night's tiredness she'd seen there for a second; the weight making
his shoulders droop was years in the building. Was one that weighed her
down too.
She looked around, taking in Atlantis, in all its familiar strangeness,
and beyond the walls, the people who struggled every day to revive the
Ancients' dreams.
"Elizabeth?" His hand touched her shoulder as he spoke, head tilting in
worried question.
She watched him carefully as she asked, "Is it worth it?" And she
caught the surprise in his eyes, confusion following closely. After a
minute trying to read her eyes, one of his hands hesitatingly came up
to comb slowly into the hair at her temple. "John?" she nudged softly
when he didn't say anything.
His lips jerked in and out of a smile, "I don't know. I just know I
follow you."
Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch jerkily, not remotely sure
about what she was doing. But so tired suddenly of standing alone when
her door closed. Of watching John. And seeing him fight himself and
settle for this half-life. "We could lose Atlantis. Lose our jobs."
John tensed, believing as his palm cupped her cheek that maybe, just
maybe... "You'll always get a job, you're too good. And if I get booted
from the military," he shrugged, "It's not like I got along with them
anyway. Until you volunteered to take me on, they had me stuffed safely
away on McMurdo."
He didn't say anything for a moment, taking his own look around, coming
back to meet her now open eyes, "Atlantis... We've done our best. Given
sweat and blood to taking care of it for more than 2 years. Are we
really helping it by giving away our souls too?" He tried to smile,
"Hey, maybe we'll catch a break for once and they'll just blink and say
'Whatever'..."
Her only response was an inelegant snort. It still made him grin
though, because she was amused, and that was his job. When she grabbed
his hand as she turned into her room, his grin widened as elation rose
through him.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he swooped and picked her up,
laughing when she squeaked and her arms flew around his neck. Stepping
over the threshold and hearing the door close, he bent down and
captured her open lips, stealing her nascent lecture.
His eyes closed as she turned her wild grip into soft stroking from his
nape into his hair. Soft exploring of lips changed to committed
enticement and challenge as their tongues engaged.
The give and take and outright arguing over dominance finally ended
when she ran out of breath and pulled back. John smirked as he sucked
in some much needed air himself, laying gentle kisses on her closed
lids, mentally staking a claim. "Just so you know, boss, I'm gonna be
coming in late tomorrow... *this* morning. And so's Elizabeth."
AN: a couple of
ladies absolutely insisted this end with a kiss.. so there you go. you
know who you are ladies!! ;)
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