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sga_flashfic2005-04-03 09:11 pm
rosewildeirish.livejournal.com) wrote in sga_flashfic2005-04-03 09:11 pm
Entry tags:
Smashed by Rose (38 Min. challenge)
Title: Smashed
Author: Rose Wilde-Irish
Rating: Mature (Adult content)
Challenge: 38 Minutes
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir
Summary: Elizabeth is smashed.
Author's notes: Written in...38 minutes. Plus a few seconds for a final line, and a really quick beta. First foray into the flashfic. Feedback welcome, but I really wish I'd left time for a decent tidying.
WARNING: Slight spoilers for s.2.
Dr. Elizabeth Weir was smashed. John stood in his best imitation of ‘at ease’ and wondered when he’d been assigned her babysitter.
She giggled and nuzzled him once more. Then again, he reflected, some sacrifices weren’t hard to make.
He also wondered why he continued to hold her at arm’s length. Their roles were...different now, he reflected, glancing down at his uniform and stifling a flash of disappointment that there were no visible signs of rank. It would’ve been nice to have that along with the promotion, since the paycheck was merely being deposited into a bank account, against the possibility of a return home.
His eyes locked with Col. Caldwell’s. His superior’s mouth thinned and Caldwell indicated with a jerk of his head that John should remove Elizabeth. Given that her hands were starting to wander, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea.
"Time for bed, Elizabeth," he said quietly, and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"Sounds like a plan," she said, and giggled into his chest, one hand grabbing his ass in a completely unexpected way. He couldn’t help but jerk away from it, ending up pressing closer to her, and she made a happy noise.
"Come on," he said, softly, and started the task of maneuvering a very drunk Elizabeth down the hallway. "Let’s pour you into bed."
"Only if you promise to keep me company," she purred, and he firmly told his body to stop listening. She’d regret it in the morning...
Except why would she, exactly? Things were very different now from the day everyone had stepped through the gate and awoken the sleeping city. Elizabeth was, as she liked to put it, "between jobs", having been replaced as team commander by Col. Caldwell.
John didn’t trust it. His own promotion aside, colonels didn’t seem to last long in the Pegasus galaxy.
Elizabeth groped him again, laughing with a slightly cruel edge when he stumbled, not ready for both her unsteady weight and the assault from behind. As he grit his teeth, he reminded himself that this was likely only temporary; that Elizabeth’s rightful place would be restored very soon, and that sleeping with his boss was a really bad idea.
Only it didn’t feel really bad, he reflected as he opened the door to Elizabeth’s quarters. It felt really damned good.
Especially when she turned and attacked his lips, kissing with a passion and a skill that took his breath away. His armed encircled her, steadying her on wobbly feet, and his lips parted at the touch of her eager tongue.
She was too damned good at this. He’d sensed that, but he’d also had the sense to try and keep a professional distance. Which must’ve worked, given how many comments about Teyla and favoritism he’d had to fend off, but there’d been nothing about Elizabeth.
He couldn’t believe he was still thinking, especially not as one of her hands slid under his jacket and wormed its way under his shirt, stroking. Not made of stone, he decided. To hell with decorum.
He pulled back just a touch and looked at her. "You sure about this?" he asked, gently.
Fire and the Elizabeth he knew well stared back at him defiantly. "Damned sure. Unless you want to take the time to get McKay in here with us." She grinned a deliciously evil grin at his expression, and pressed against him tighter. "Oh, I see someone likes that idea. Another time, maybe?"
He growled and kissed her, lifting the hem of her shirt and pulling it up. "Maybe another time," he acknowledged, "when I’ve had as much to drink as you have."
She was breathing harder now, and had managed to pull his jacket off and was reaching for his pants. He fumbled with her bra, sliding that free, too, and waited for her to stand (unsteadily) back up before reaching for her own pants. She got his shirt off before he was able to slide her panties down, then stepped back and looked.
She was marvelous, even wobbling slightly from entirely too much to drink, and was busy looking him up and down with a heat that made his breath hitch. "Why didn’t we do this long ago?" she mumbled, and he grinned.
"Because you were too damned concerned with keeping a professional distance?" he hazarded.
She grinned. "Knew about that, did you?"
He shook his head. "Hell, Elizabeth, if you hadn’t been radiating ‘professional distance,’ I would’ve jumped you at that first celebration, when the Athosians joined us."
She grinned ferally. "Let’s make up for lost time, then shall we?"
Faster than she should’ve been able to, she spun him and tumbled both of them onto the bed. Straddling him, she leaned down and kissed him hard, body rocking against his and making him groan with need. He slid hands up to her breasts and circled the skin lightly with a nail, making her shiver. When he ran a nail lightly across her nipple, she inhaled and said, "Harder."
He leaned up and kissed it lightly, tonguing the sensitive skin and making her rock harder. Biting lightly, he shifted underneath her, rubbing the head of his cock lightly against her clit. She was moaning louder now, fingers tracing the shell of his ear and knees pressed hard against his side. "Tell me," she demanded, and one look told him not to play stupid.
"I want you," he said, voice rough with his need. "I’ve wanted you since Antarctica." She smiled and sank a little lower, and as they moved together, he groaned, momentarily losing his words as he entered her.
She cried out as he slid fully in, his hands sliding up and down her back and settling on her hips, holding her close. The Elizabeth he knew wasn’t like this, wild and barely able to be restrained. He’d thought he’d only fantasized about this Elizabeth, thrusting against him with little cries of pleasure. He leaned up, kissing and sucking lightly on her collarbone, and she groaned, fingers leaving trails down his chest as her movements increased frantically.
His fingers tightened on her hips as hers found his nipples, teasing them in a way that brought him to the cusp. Leaning down, she kissed him, tongue sliding in and exploring, and that last bit of sensation sent him over the edge, bucking hard up against her. She broke the kiss long enough to cry out "God, John!" and as he collapsed back onto her bed, he could feel her orgasm hit.
When he could think again, she was collapsed beside him. His hand found her head and he stroked her hair lightly, not sure of what to say.
"That was..." His voice trailed off.
"It was, wasn’t it?" she said, amused. "Next time, we’ll definitely have to add McKay."
He shivered, leaning in to kiss her, afraid to let her know how intrigued he was by that. From her throaty chuckle, he figured she knew.
She was the diplomat, after all. Even smashed.
Author: Rose Wilde-Irish
Rating: Mature (Adult content)
Challenge: 38 Minutes
Pairing: Sheppard/Weir
Summary: Elizabeth is smashed.
Author's notes: Written in...38 minutes. Plus a few seconds for a final line, and a really quick beta. First foray into the flashfic. Feedback welcome, but I really wish I'd left time for a decent tidying.
WARNING: Slight spoilers for s.2.
Dr. Elizabeth Weir was smashed. John stood in his best imitation of ‘at ease’ and wondered when he’d been assigned her babysitter.
She giggled and nuzzled him once more. Then again, he reflected, some sacrifices weren’t hard to make.
He also wondered why he continued to hold her at arm’s length. Their roles were...different now, he reflected, glancing down at his uniform and stifling a flash of disappointment that there were no visible signs of rank. It would’ve been nice to have that along with the promotion, since the paycheck was merely being deposited into a bank account, against the possibility of a return home.
His eyes locked with Col. Caldwell’s. His superior’s mouth thinned and Caldwell indicated with a jerk of his head that John should remove Elizabeth. Given that her hands were starting to wander, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea.
"Time for bed, Elizabeth," he said quietly, and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"Sounds like a plan," she said, and giggled into his chest, one hand grabbing his ass in a completely unexpected way. He couldn’t help but jerk away from it, ending up pressing closer to her, and she made a happy noise.
"Come on," he said, softly, and started the task of maneuvering a very drunk Elizabeth down the hallway. "Let’s pour you into bed."
"Only if you promise to keep me company," she purred, and he firmly told his body to stop listening. She’d regret it in the morning...
Except why would she, exactly? Things were very different now from the day everyone had stepped through the gate and awoken the sleeping city. Elizabeth was, as she liked to put it, "between jobs", having been replaced as team commander by Col. Caldwell.
John didn’t trust it. His own promotion aside, colonels didn’t seem to last long in the Pegasus galaxy.
Elizabeth groped him again, laughing with a slightly cruel edge when he stumbled, not ready for both her unsteady weight and the assault from behind. As he grit his teeth, he reminded himself that this was likely only temporary; that Elizabeth’s rightful place would be restored very soon, and that sleeping with his boss was a really bad idea.
Only it didn’t feel really bad, he reflected as he opened the door to Elizabeth’s quarters. It felt really damned good.
Especially when she turned and attacked his lips, kissing with a passion and a skill that took his breath away. His armed encircled her, steadying her on wobbly feet, and his lips parted at the touch of her eager tongue.
She was too damned good at this. He’d sensed that, but he’d also had the sense to try and keep a professional distance. Which must’ve worked, given how many comments about Teyla and favoritism he’d had to fend off, but there’d been nothing about Elizabeth.
He couldn’t believe he was still thinking, especially not as one of her hands slid under his jacket and wormed its way under his shirt, stroking. Not made of stone, he decided. To hell with decorum.
He pulled back just a touch and looked at her. "You sure about this?" he asked, gently.
Fire and the Elizabeth he knew well stared back at him defiantly. "Damned sure. Unless you want to take the time to get McKay in here with us." She grinned a deliciously evil grin at his expression, and pressed against him tighter. "Oh, I see someone likes that idea. Another time, maybe?"
He growled and kissed her, lifting the hem of her shirt and pulling it up. "Maybe another time," he acknowledged, "when I’ve had as much to drink as you have."
She was breathing harder now, and had managed to pull his jacket off and was reaching for his pants. He fumbled with her bra, sliding that free, too, and waited for her to stand (unsteadily) back up before reaching for her own pants. She got his shirt off before he was able to slide her panties down, then stepped back and looked.
She was marvelous, even wobbling slightly from entirely too much to drink, and was busy looking him up and down with a heat that made his breath hitch. "Why didn’t we do this long ago?" she mumbled, and he grinned.
"Because you were too damned concerned with keeping a professional distance?" he hazarded.
She grinned. "Knew about that, did you?"
He shook his head. "Hell, Elizabeth, if you hadn’t been radiating ‘professional distance,’ I would’ve jumped you at that first celebration, when the Athosians joined us."
She grinned ferally. "Let’s make up for lost time, then shall we?"
Faster than she should’ve been able to, she spun him and tumbled both of them onto the bed. Straddling him, she leaned down and kissed him hard, body rocking against his and making him groan with need. He slid hands up to her breasts and circled the skin lightly with a nail, making her shiver. When he ran a nail lightly across her nipple, she inhaled and said, "Harder."
He leaned up and kissed it lightly, tonguing the sensitive skin and making her rock harder. Biting lightly, he shifted underneath her, rubbing the head of his cock lightly against her clit. She was moaning louder now, fingers tracing the shell of his ear and knees pressed hard against his side. "Tell me," she demanded, and one look told him not to play stupid.
"I want you," he said, voice rough with his need. "I’ve wanted you since Antarctica." She smiled and sank a little lower, and as they moved together, he groaned, momentarily losing his words as he entered her.
She cried out as he slid fully in, his hands sliding up and down her back and settling on her hips, holding her close. The Elizabeth he knew wasn’t like this, wild and barely able to be restrained. He’d thought he’d only fantasized about this Elizabeth, thrusting against him with little cries of pleasure. He leaned up, kissing and sucking lightly on her collarbone, and she groaned, fingers leaving trails down his chest as her movements increased frantically.
His fingers tightened on her hips as hers found his nipples, teasing them in a way that brought him to the cusp. Leaning down, she kissed him, tongue sliding in and exploring, and that last bit of sensation sent him over the edge, bucking hard up against her. She broke the kiss long enough to cry out "God, John!" and as he collapsed back onto her bed, he could feel her orgasm hit.
When he could think again, she was collapsed beside him. His hand found her head and he stroked her hair lightly, not sure of what to say.
"That was..." His voice trailed off.
"It was, wasn’t it?" she said, amused. "Next time, we’ll definitely have to add McKay."
He shivered, leaning in to kiss her, afraid to let her know how intrigued he was by that. From her throaty chuckle, he figured she knew.
She was the diplomat, after all. Even smashed.
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Dr. Elizabeth Weir was smashed. John stood in his best imitation of ‘at ease’ and wondered when he’d been assigned her babysitter.
She giggled and nuzzled him once more. Then again, he reflected, some sacrifices weren’t hard to make.
*giggle*
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Elizabeth has had her professional distance set to kill, with good reason. Get her drunk and she loosens up real nice, though. I liked seeing her as the aggressor here, since I've read so many that were the other way around.
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(Anonymous) - 2005-04-04 07:43 (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
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So much of this is just SO PERFECT. Wow. *happygleee*
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I like Liz as the one who initiates and commands the whole encounter.
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A sequel would be nice... hint, hint... ;-)
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OT3! OT3!
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and, yeah, I'll vote for OT3!
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I think this was impressively tidy for a 38 min fic, btw.
Very nice