Author: wanderingsmith
June 2008
Summary: Smut PWP - 'Do it!'
Rating: NC-bloody 17!!
Beta: the lovely comanche_rider
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this. As it is thought, so let it be said: you make the toys,
I play with them
AN: well... there's angst. and kissing. and sensual
smut. those were the 3 'requests' I got which somehow blended
with an image and turned into a fic... hope you ladies like
-- (eg) if there are any males in audience, I *would* like to hear what
you think.. if you can make yourselves stop rolling on the floor with
laughter and find a way to answer kindly... :p:p
--I had in mind, sometime in season 3, but there aren't references
John stepped silently through the door, seeing her staring out over
the water with a melancholy expression, stopping for a second to wonder
if he should let her be. But he didn't want to. Didn't want to leave
her to deal alone. Even on the occasions when she tried to brush him
off, her eyes still brightened when she saw him. That was supposed to
mean something, he was sure of it.
So he slowly walked up to her, trying to think of an opening line.
"Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth had heard the door open, and no one but John would try to
talk to her in this mood. She smiled to herself when she heard the
uncertain edge in his voice, thinking of what it gave away that he so
often tried to talk to her when it was obvious he wasn't comfortable
doing it.
She hated feeling maudlin like this; it was unproductive and silly. But
saying it had yet to make the mood pass...
"You ok?"
She turned, sorry to have zoned out on him, covering the hand he'd laid
on her shoulder with her own, "Sorry! Lost in thought, I guess. I'm
fine. Really."
He nodded just as automatically as she said it, an old practised
routine. But when he searched her eyes, he saw sadness and no
Elizabeth-sparkle. He tried a small rueful grin, "Happy birthday?"
Elizabeth was surprised at the laugh that that managed to pull from
her. Only John would a) *know* about that -how *did* he find out??- and
b) say the words when she was obviously not feeling birthday-ish. She
was even more surprised when he stepped closer and put his arms around
her in a loose hug, though. Surprised but warmed; feeling emotions rise
up and choke her for a minute as he held her quietly. Gratitude and
affection; and sadness and regret.
He could feel her hands clenching the material of his shirt in front of
his shoulders, feel her breath hitch as she rested her head in the
crook of his neck. Knew she could probably feel how tense he was. He
just wasn't good at this comforting shtick, didn't *really* know if she
wouldn't just rather he get lost. But she *had* laughed. Even the
undercurrent of sorrow hadn't hidden the genuine happiness in the sound.
So... she was happy he remembered? And maybe a hug was just what she
wanted?
The midday sun was warm on them, the occasional breeze gentle and
Elizabeth consciously decided to stay where she was, even after the hit
of emotions passed. His tension, something she'd learned to associate
with physical contact with John, was actually disappearing, for once;
his hands hesitantly stroking her arm and back. She wasn't so proud as
to refuse such gifts from life.
So she allowed herself to rest where she was, shifting her head so her
lips were clear and she could speak without mumbling. Or accidentally
kissing him. "It's been a rough year. I think.. I'd hoped for things to
be.. different. Better, by now. Instead..." she shrugged.
He tightened his arms, knowing he needed to protect her, take care of
her; not sure how. "We're alive. We're on Atlantis."
We're together. She nodded, "Yes." One of her hands wrapped around his
waist slowly, ready to pull back if he tensed, "Don't get me wrong, I
do know we have a lot to be thankful for. I just..." She couldn't quite
admit out loud that spending another year alone was what was making her
sad. She knew she'd get over it. Tomorrow, quite likely. But right now
she couldn't deny that she regretted.. regretted the choices of the
heart.
If hers had chosen someone else... someone emotionally available... But
she was willing to settle for the occasional hug. She remembered too
well the last time she'd tried *making* herself care for someone. Not
worth it. On any day but her birthday, she could accept that she'd
fallen for someone who wasn't interested in a relationship with her.
And even today. He was a good friend, and she wasn't such a fool as to
not realize the value of that. Especially not with the life they led.
When she just left the sentence hanging on a shrug, he tried a
different tack. "So I was trying to think of a present and kinda coming
up blank." He shook his head when he felt her open her mouth to respond
with some dismissal, "So I came up with an *idea*." He still wasn't
sure
about this, but at the very least, he knew she'd get a laugh out of it.
One hand went into his pant pocket as she shifted back a little to see
what he was doing.
"Here." He handed her a piece of roughly cut cardboard.
Elizabeth turned the card-sized material in her hand. On one side, in
John's precise handwriting, were the words 'Do it!'. She looked at him
in confusion.
"One 'make John Sheppard do it' card," he grinned, "The next time you
want me to do something that I *really* don't want to... just hand me
the card and I will do as I'm told. Without argument. No matter what it
is." He frowned suddenly, adding warningly, "Except put you in danger."
Elizabeth laughed softly, laying her head back on his shoulder as she
closed her eyes tightly, wrapping both arms around him in a quick, hard
hug. The world was infinitely unfair. How could she be expected to
resist that? Resist *him*?
She was still chuckling when he laid a hand on her jaw, glad she'd
enjoyed the gift but worried at the sorrow still clinging to her.
"Elizabeth?" When she opened her eyes, John thought he was imagining
the light in them. But when she blushed and blinked it away, starting
to straighten, he knew. *Knew*. That leap of understanding that usually
only served him in military situations finally helping him somewhere
*really* important.
And for once since meeting Elizabeth Weir, he didn't hesitate. Whatever
crazy miracle had lead to her... loving him. Whatever crazier bit of
luck had made her defences drop just when he happened to be paying
attention... He slipped his hand to her nape and tilted her head that
little bit, pressing his lips to hers before she could do more than
widen her eyes in curiosity.
Elizabeth's lips opened in shock when he kissed her. Of all things, on
all days, she hadn't expected this; had given up hoping for this.
Questions could wait; kissing John was nothing to pass up.
He didn't take advantage of the unconscious invitation of her parted
lips, instead following the perimeter of her mouth with slow touches,
taking one of her lips between his, his tongue finally coming out to
slide on the soft skin behind it.
So slow and gentle, and yet he held her in place and she was completely
in his hands. Her eyes had closed with the first contact, the better to
feel; her palms slowly curving into his hair, the soft, springy mess
teasing the nerves under her skin. As she sent her own tongue to touch
his, she felt him shiver, his hands pulling her whole body tight
against his as he took his exploration deeper.
She felt tension coiling through her body with every lick at
so-sensitive skin, was lost trying to predict where the next ravage
would come from, feeling heat and tension accumulate. She didn't notice
when his hand smoothed down her back to her butt, not until he rocked
her into him. Then she moaned, her hands clenching on his skull; her
own head would have fallen back if he hadn't held her neck, continuing
his possession, swallowing every sound she made.
She knew, very faintly, that she wanted to return the favour. Wanted to
taste and feel and *know* him; wanted to make him shake with desire.
But he hadn't left her time to think, was making her feel cherished and
wanted and lost in her own slowly-burning-up skin.
She didn't notice when he walked them behind a pillar, hiding them from
the city, when he leaned her against the railing, both prison and
support. Only when his now-free hand slid up to cup her breast, when he
stopped exploring and instead gently played with her tongue,
encouraging her to have her turn.
Absently accepting, she touched the soft skin behind his teeth, tasting
chocolate and coffee. Tried to enjoy the continued engagement with his
now-gently teasing tongue. Couldn't. Not with his hand first massaging
the weight of her breast and then his fingers playing with the nipple.
Even the instant when he tweaked a little too hard only made her wetter
when he responded to her throaty complaint with an apologetic grunt and
such perfect soft flicks that she lost any will to do anything but be
taken along. Taken. She held onto him now for support, keeping herself
upright as the coiling need pulled the strength from her legs.
She felt his lips curl in a smile against hers, was aware that he knew
what he was doing to her. But then, what he was making her feel was
need and love and pleasure. She *wanted* him to know...
His lips went back to gentle kissing as his fingers and palm held her
his willing prisoner and her now-rocking hips kept him equally
distracted.
He could feel himself losing the battle against the need tightening
down his back and into his balls. Her massaging grip on his head and
grinding on his cock were sending streaks of pleasure playing up and
down his spine. He finally forced himself to move on from this teasing
torture; he didn't intend them to just get each other off in their
clothes. Somewhere between wanting to ease her sadness and getting lost
in hedonistic pleasure with just one kiss, sensual dreams had risen and
beckoned.
With a last suckle at her upper lip, he went back to tasting her in
earnest. The pleasure of now knowing just where and how to stroke
Elizabeth to make her respond was *heady*. Almost distracting him. But
he managed to sneak his hand down and undo her slacks, raising his head
as he brought both hands to her hips and lowered them under her
panties, stroking the soft skin as he waited for her eyes to open, both
of them panting.
Elizabeth felt his calloused fingers slide under her waistband, cool
enough to make her aware, her lids lifting slowly to meet his steady
gaze. "John?"
She wasn't asking him to stop, that was enough for him. The vision of
Elizabeth's sultry eyes shining with pleasure before the spires of
Atlantis was irresistible. He gave her a cocky grin before bending his
knees as he lowered her pants and underwear. He kept their eyes
together as he gently combed his fingers through the ooh, *wet*, tight
curls. Stroking through to the throbbing flesh beneath, he brought one
hand to his lips. Breathing through his teeth, his eyes slammed shut on
a wave of lust. Any idea to go slow died a painless death and his hands
went to the front of her hips to hold her, his head bending with a
growl to bring his lips forward.
The scent-memory screaming through him wasn't from his life; was linked
to primitive centres deep under his brain, ruling over thought. Aroused
Elizabeth, knowing she was aroused by *him*... He was suckling on her
outer lips, contentedly tasting and breathing the essence of sex,
listening to the quiet little whimpers she made as he put pressure on
the flesh buried below. Taking too much time obviously, because she
growled his name and the hands she still had clenched on his skull
tightened, pulling his lips deeper.
He didn't need to be told twice. Made sure one hand had a solid grip on
her and that she was leaning on the railing and brought the other to
slide apart her lips and give him complete access. Letting her guide
him until he felt the stiffened little bud touch his lip. Then he
forced his head back enough to close his lips gently around it. Her
fingers had frozen on him, her whole body stilling in anticipation.
'Slow, Sheppard. Slow.' The order was a rein for his own racing needs.
He moved his lips to massage the soft area around her clitoris, holding
his head against the pull of her hands, the pull of his own need.
Keeping it slow. Slow. Slow. Slow. "John!" The moan made him shiver,
lips tightening involuntarily, feeling her thighs move jerkily against
his cheeks. Lifting his mouth to take a fast breath, his eyes slitted
open, another layer of arousal settling on him as he watched her
tensing intimately, straining to keep his ears tuned to her voice over
the rushing of his blood. Listening to her call his name over and over,
he traced the swollen hood with the tip of his tongue, smiling ferally
whenever a spot made the demanding whimpers still and she cried out.
Slowly flickering his tongue away from the quick-finish points, he
traced his way to the -God, yes! Mine- soaked, flexing opening to her
vagina. She nearly pulled a hank of hair out when he drew his tongue
around the opening, then he did it again, licking up the proof that he
was pleasing her. "Please. Please. Please." Her voice was breathy,
interspersed with little cries, her body shaking and jerking, her
weight heavy on his supporting arm.
Oh, yes, love, with pleasure. He tilted his head back for one look at
her like this. She was looking right at him; her eyes wide, wild and
almost black, biting her moistened, swollen lips, hairline damp with
sweat, nipples showing hard through her shirt. He gave her a tight
grin, seeing her lips part on his name before he leaned back in and put
his lips right around her clit, starting to suckle lightly. The fingers
stroking her labia shifted, sliding the index into hot, tight, gripping
-oh fuck yeah, that's where he needed to be!- moisture. He couldn't
hear her clearly anymore, concentrating on bringing his tongue to
flicker just right to make her jerk, suckling tightly. She was so
close, if he could just hang on another... there!
He'd never heard someone scream his name. Yell, yes. Never scream.
Never like that. His dick was pulsing hotly in time to the powerful
muscles clamping on his thrusting finger and he continued the suction,
gentling it as the tension in her body slowly vanished.
When the fingers on his skull started combing his hair with tender
care, he leaned his forehead on her shivering, shirt-covered belly,
carefully pulling his finger free and going back to holding her hip
with it. Catching his breath and getting a grip on his control before
rising back up with a wince for his stiffened -in every way, damn the
years- body.
Elizabeth could still feel the echoes of pleasure lapping at her, the
breeze cooling the sweat coating her as she panted softly. She leaned
forward and kissed him as he rose up, completely wordless in the
ecstasy he'd just given her, in how impossibly **close** she felt to
him. He'd controlled her, but his actions, his very posture, put him at
her bidding. Giving and taking; they'd done it for years in every way
but this, it shouldn't affect her so strongly to find him in another
part of her soul.
Needing to breathe, she broke the deep kiss; instead running her lips
around his mouth, tasting herself and feeling his fingers clench on her
hips. Feeling his body shiver with the need he'd just assuaged in her.
She pulled back, her fingers stroking the sweat away from his forehead,
waiting for his eyes to open. She tilted her head in curiosity at the
control he was raising. Almost visibly pulling himself away from the
edge.
"What about you?"
He leaned in and kissed her, intending a quick peck but surrendering to
the need for more and allowing himself 30 seconds of plunder before
pulling back with a subterranean moan, "I'll be fine." This time he
managed the peck, giving her a slightly questioning, teasing leer,
"Later?"
Elizabeth watched him silently, half teasing him and half nerving
herself up. When she saw old familiar uncertainty start to creep into
his expression at her silence, she gave him a quick kiss, resisting his
attempt to deepen it. She shifted her weight to one leg and pulled one
of her moccasinned feet out of her slacks, keeping her eyes locked on
his. She kept watching his face as his eyes followed her movement, then
went back to the wet curls between her legs, licking his lips. His grip
on her hips tightened, almost but not quite pulling her closer.
When he raised his eyes, she could see the lust gripping him, just held
back by whatever his reason was for wanting to wait; he couldn't be shy
of the location, not after what he'd just done. Which left chivalry;
which she had no patience for, especially not with his tongue still
licking at his damp lips, almost making her forget her plan as her clit
remembered being very well-treated...
She lifted the foot still with slacks and reached in her pocket,
palming her present. When she opened her hand and flashed the written
side at him, his brows rose and he laughed roughly, this time tugging
so that she was came to rest fully on him, their eyes inches apart,
"You sure you want to waste that?" He was grinning, reminding her
silently of all those times when she was going to wish she had that
card...
She smirked into the mix of laughter and lust in his expression and
answered just as huskily, "It won't be wasted." She brought her hand
down to his zipper, tracing his outline before massaging, thoroughly
satisfied with the low moan she pulled from him; the way he was
immediately thrusting into her touch.
His eyes burned at the challenge in hers; his pride wasn't about to say
he'd never done this standing up, let along in a public place. He
nodded sharply, then kissed the triumphant grin from her lips, letting
the thought that she wanted him *that* much slide into his chest and
make the rest of the world lose all trace of importance.
Elizabeth got his zipper down, reaching in his boxers for the hot.
Heavy. Twitching shaft she'd been feeling up. It was his turn to moan
helplessly into her mouth as she slid a tight hand up and down his cock
several times before pushing it down and stepping up to him. When she
let go he was nestled between swollen, dripping lips. At least for the
second it took him to shift his grip to the back of her thighs and lift
her. A quick shift of her hips and she felt him start to slide in.
The tight grip of muscles that hadn't seen invasion in too long slowed
him even as he half-shouted her name through clenched teeth, their kiss
gentling as she adjusted slowly and pulled at his shoulders to make him
shift forward a little more. She was so wet that there was no real
pain, not at this speed, just her internal muscles rearranging to mould
around him. The very pleasure he was causing making it that much harder
to make muscles release when they wanted to milk him.
His fingers were digging into her hips with the strain of holding back,
his shoulders tight as he pulled out of the kiss and leaned his back on
the pillar. She could feel him twitching deep inside her as he moaned
into her neck, "A bed would be good right now." She chuckled, finally
relaxing where it counted and wrapped her legs around his hips and
pulled them tight; pulling him deep inside.
He lifted his head with a gasp, turning to kiss her deeply but
sloppily, his focus completely lost, nothing but need driving him as he
rocked her hips on him for a minute, wanting her as desperate as he
was, feeling her body respond as her clit roused quickly.
As the pleasure started playing through her, she forcibly pulled her
hips back and slid back on him, gasping and losing the kiss as the
stroke sent pleasure reeling through her.
Tight and deep and God she was going to love this position! She had no
time to recover as he took over the movement, thrusting hard and fast,
pulling her tight against him, mumbling her name harshly. She wanted to
help him but the feeling of being filled with hard heat was nothing
compared to the way he was unthinkingly hitting just, the, right, spot.
And stretching her clit tight even as he ground her against him. She
was so close and he was tensing on the edge, she brought one hand up
and started flicking her nipple hard. Knowing he was aware of it as he
shouted, "'Lizabeth!'" His body snapping tight, jerking against her;
enough to throw her into another blinding orgasm as their bodies
gripped and thrust and milked every last ounce of pleasure and a few of
over-sensitized pain from each other.
Leaving them utterly weak. John leaning their weight on the pillar as
his locked knees kept them upright. Elizabeth completely limp on him,
friction and his shivery arms the only thing holding her in place.
John's even breathing was lulling her drowsily when a chillier wind
swept across her bare bum and made her skin goosebump where it wasn't
covered with his warm hands. It was enough of a reminder that they
couldn't just stay there and she sighed, shifting to stand on her own
feet, listening to his half-asleep snuffle of complaint, laughing
lovingly when he opened his eyes to pout at her and tightened his arms
so she couldn't move away.
Thinking that her affection for the messy, sweaty, tired look couldn't
be healthy, her hands crept back into his now damp and stiff hair,
combing through and seeing how much more of a mop she could make of it.
"Why did we wait so long to do this?" she asked quietly
He watched her with a faint smile, enjoying the feeling of being cared
for. Thinking seriously about the answer, "I... you're very good at
hiding your feelings you know. I just..." He slid a hand up her back
under her sweater to pull her to rest on him again, cuddling his cheek
on her temple. "I've never had a friend like you, never... had someone
believe in me. Putting that relationship at risk just because I lusted
after your body and wanted to go to sleep with you in my arms... I
didn't see the odds in my favour, and losing the... closeness we'd
managed, was too high a cost." He stroked her back, starting to grin as
he realized he would finally get his fantasies... and hear hers...
"What about you?"
"I... didn't think you were interested in more than friendship." When
he pulled his head back to stare at her incredulously, she shrugged,
"John... you *actually* retreated. Every, single, time I touched you. I
could see you cared but..."
He winced, tightening his hug apologetically, "Sorry. I'm not... good.
Comfortable, with casual... touching. And," he grinned, "I'm a little
too attracted to you for it to have felt casual, and then I'd have had
some explaining to do."
She stared at him ruefully until he snorted softly and leaned his
forehead on hers, still staring into her eyes. "Remind me. Remind
*both* of us, never to assume again?"
She cupped his cheeks and then touched his lips with hers, loving him
so much right then, "I'll *remember*." She pulled back to smile at him,
"You do realize you're going to have a very hard time beating this
birthday next year?"
John gave her a goofy smile before leeringly leaning in to whisper in
her ear, "Trust me, I've had enough fantasies about you to last me
years." He blew gently, feeling her shiver and hearing her grumble as
he grinned, "And Elizabeth? You can use that card *anytime*."
Title: Epilogue
June 2008
Summary: Some time after happy birthday
Beta: comanche_rider
"Oh Jooohhnnnn," Elizabeth singsonged with an evil grin as she slowly
reached into her pocket.
"Oh *no*! No no no. Eliiiiizabeth!" But even as he whispered the
admonition, she could see his pulse jump in his throat and his pupils
dilating. A certain recognizably military surroundings-check being done.
He looked at the familiar, worn cardboard with a puppy-pout, slowly
backing into the not-anywhere-deep-enough for what she wanted to do to
him alcove behind him. "You are insatiable," he grumbled huskily.
"For you, yes." He couldn't quite help returning the soft grin she said
that with.
----------------------
John opened his eyes after she'd been asleep for a solid 10 minutes,
carefully crawling out from the arm thrown across his chest; glad he'd
managed to catch enough emergency calls meant for her in the last few
months that she'd finally lost the habit of snapping awake at the least
provocation.
He stepped lightly to where he'd thrown her pants earlier, checking the
bed as he went to make sure she was still sleeping peacefully. He
reached into her pocket and pulled out the ragged, unreadable
cardboard, smiling softly at all the memories they'd pilled on it in
the last year; aware, as he always was in these quiet moments, of how
his body hummed with satisfaction these days. Of how much easier it was
to stay calm through all the damned provocations the Pegasus galaxy
still insisted on throwing at them when he knew there was a beautiful,
brilliant, loving woman just waiting to jump his bones; to hold him and
be held.
Shaking himself out of the reminiscing, he moved more quickly, the need
for silence lessened now that he'd accomplished the theft. A few
minutes later, he snuck into the typing pool office.
Elizabeth was too busy to be grumpy on her birthday this time around;
too many people asking stupid questions and bringing even more
ridiculous arguments to her attention. Halfway through the afternoon
she was ready to strangle the next person through her door. Realizing
how close to loosing her calm she was, she reached in her pocket; a
habit she'd gotten into whenever she was stressed, or worried, or sad.
A physical link to comfort when John wasn't there to offer it with his
presence.
This time she frowned in consternation, getting up to search her pocket
fully and still not finding it. She stilled as she mentally retraced
her steps. She had it last night... and she *did* put it back in her
pocket... Yes, she *did*. It must have fallen out when John threw her
slacks across the room...
She sat back down, discontented but refusing to do something so clingy
as to go and look for it. Grow up Elizabeth, you hardly need a piece of
cardboard to *make* him do anything... But it was a present... and such
a *sweet* present... She snarled silently at herself, getting back to
her work determinedly.
Her expression must have been murderous because she actually got a
couple hours of peace after that, and then John at his most puppyish
showed up and dragged her away, neither of them aware of the indulgent
smiles from their people as she humoured his playing and they walked
off together.
Once they were away from the control room, John convinced her to close
her eyes and trust him and then he guided her carefully to a balcony
and stepped away from her. "Open your eyes," he whispered.
The first thing Elizabeth saw was John on one knee in front of her,
wearing the sweet smile she'd come to recognize as meaning he was
feeling introspective and affectionate; quietly loving. The second
thing she saw was the pillar being him, leading her to realize *which*
balcony they were on. They hadn't come here all that often, it just
wasn't on their usual routes; which had been her reason for choosing
it, a year ago.
By the time her eyes swung back to him, he was holding out something in
the palm of one hand; something that refracted the setting sun into a
rainbow of rays. Her breath caught as he nodded to his palm with a
grin. Stepping closer, she saw that the sparkling was caused by a ring
made of some strange but strong-looking metal, coiled meltingly around
something that looked like crystal; and beneath the ring, a small
laminated piece of paper.
Feeling emotions about to overrun her usually strong defences, she
reached for the card first to give herself a moment, one finger
caressing the ring longingly as she passed it.
It was a printed photocopy of a familiar cardboard, with the words 'Do
it!' freshly handwritten over it, along with a slightly smaller note,
'Good forever'. She looked at John with tears blurring her vision,
reaching to put her free hand palm to palm with his, the ring tight
between them.
He was watching her intently and spoke reassuringly when she focused on
him, "The original is on your night table. Will you marry me,
'Lizabeth?" he smiled temptingly, "I love you. Always will. And I *do*
have plans to beat last year's..."
She bent down and kissed him gently, tasting the salt of her tears and
holding on tightly to his hand. "Yes. Forever yes, John Sheppard."
