[fic] How Not to Keep Secrets in the Pegasus Galaxy (J/E, fluff, 1/1)
I could write a whole rant here about why it took so long for me to post this. But that would be self-flagellation, and I think I've already done enough of that for the week. ;)
Title: How Not to Keep Secrets in the Pegasus Galaxy
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff
Word Count: ~1300
Feedback: Very much appreciated. Good, bad, or in between.
When he sleeps in his room, his alarm goes off to wake him at five-thirty on the dot, and it's so loud and jarring that he's halfway out of bed before he even realizes he's awake. Needless to say, early mornings in his room are not particularly pleasant.
But when he spends the night with her, he wakes slowly. His body's internal clock wakes him at five-thirty, but without the jolting shock of his alarm. Instead, he becomes increasingly aware of the vaguely floral scent of her shampoo and the feel of her naked skin beneath his fingertips.
He dozes, then, content to just lie there with his chin pressed into the crook of her neck and his arm draped around her waist, wrapped around her like a second blanket. It's only when he hears the beginnings of the slow crescendo of her alarm that he really wakes up; it's then, as she begins to stir, that he presses a kiss to the nape of her neck and slips away from her.
This morning, however, is a little different. He's still lost in his early-morning haze when there's a loud knock on the door, and a muffled shouting from the corridor.
John is awake instantaneously, but Elizabeth is still murmuring, asking for, "five more minutes, come on."
He shakes her shoulder, gently, quickly, and tries to pull his arm out from underneath her head. "Elizabeth, come on," he whispers.
More knocking, loud and insistent, and more muffled shouting. He thinks it might be Rodney, from the tone of his voice and the way that the words seem to flow, one after the other with no break for breath.
He most definitely does not want Rodney coming in. Not here. Not now. Not ever, really. "Elizabeth, please," he says into her ear, hoping that Rodney can't hear him over the noise. "You have to wake up. McKay's at the door -- you need to send him away."
That gets some response. "Rodney?"
"Yes. Come on," he says. He presses a brief kiss against her pulse point before sliding away from the comfort of her warm body to search for the clothes that he abandoned the night before. His shirt is on the floor beside the bed, and his boxers are hanging artfully off the corner of the dresser, but the rest of his clothes still appear to be AWOL.
She rises, slowly, as he checks under the bed to see if they managed to lose any clothes down there -- it has happened before, but not this time -- and her feet make soft thumping sounds as she pads across the floor towards the door.
He gives up on the bed and begins to put on his boxers just as Elizabeth's footsteps still. "Rodney, what is it?" she asks through the closed door. Her voice is dark, almost sultry, and he can't help but turn to look at her. She's leaning against the door dressed only in a pale blue sheet that gapes open in the back, and there's a long, delicious stripe of skin that John would have taken advantage of on any ordinary day. Unfortunately, his boxers are around his ankles and McKay's at the door, so examining Elizabeth's skin up close isn't exactly an option at the moment.
The knocking stops, and McKay's voice is softer, although no slower. His following rant is long enough that John manages to get on his boxers and shirt before Elizabeth responds. "All right, Rodney. I'll be out in a minute."
John pulls on one sock and rifles through the bedclothes in an attempt to find the other. "Elizabeth, that's not a good idea," he says softly. "He'll see me."
"You can hide in the bathroom," she says, quite logically, even as he finds his prize -- a sock, tucked between the mattress and the footboard.
He tugs it on, one-legged, as he tries to scour the room for his remaining clothes. "Have you seen my jacket?" he asks, and turns around to a full frontal view of her breasts.
His brain promptly goes on a long holiday.
He is drawn back to reality, however, when she crosses her arms and levels a glare at him. "I'm up here."
"Yes. Right."
She shakes her head. "Sometimes I wonder whether you're in this for me, or my breasts."
He settles his hands on her bare hips and draws her towards him. "You know I love you," he says, looking directly into her eyes.
She slides her arms around him and leans into him, her breath hot against his neck as she sighs. "I do," she says, and he can feel the words vibrating into his skin. "And I love you."
He rests his chin against her hair, very much enjoying the feeling of her naked body in his arms. But before he can get too comfortable, she presses a quick kiss to his jaw and pulls away. "Come on," she says briskly. "We have to get moving."
He tries to get his thoughts back on track as she pulls on a bra and a t-shirt in quick succession. She's halfway through pulling up her pants when he finally remembers what he was searching for. "Jacket?"
She turns and smiles at him. "Under the desk," she says smugly, "which you would have known if you'd actually been listening instead of staring at my breasts."
"Oops?" he tries, not very sincerely, and ducks beneath the desk to look for his jacket. Sure enough, there's a puddle of black and gray, just as she suggested. "Thanks," he says. When he stands, she's fully dressed and already moving towards the door, running a hand through her hair to smooth it down.
"Bathroom," she says quietly, and gestures towards it. "Now. Go," she says.
He ducks into the alcove that serves as her bathroom, shrugging into his jacket as he goes. And then he hears the swish of the door opening, and McKay's voice, loud and clear. "Why weren't you answering your radio? I've been trying to --"
"Rodney, there was something vital that you had to tell me. I hope it was worth bothering me at --" There is a pause, probably Elizabeth checking the bedside clock. "-- five thirty-eight in the morning."
"Yeah, I'd say it was worth it. I mean, yes, it is kind of early -- or, really, rather late, because I stayed up all night doing this -- but --" There is a long pause. "What's that?"
"Oh, that? That's nothing." But Elizabeth's voice is nervous, and John wonders what it is that Rodney saw.
"Nothing? That looks like shoes, and I don't think your feet are that big." His voice is the kind of smug tone that John associates with a pointed finger and a superior expression. "You've got someone in here, don't you? In the bathroom, maybe?"
Rodney's voice is getting closer, now, but it's not like there's anywhere that John can go -- the game is as good as up. It's time to control the situation while they still can.
John steps forwards, out of the bathroom. "It's not what it looks like," he tries. "We were having a meeting. About ... certain problematic personnel, so we didn't exactly want to do it in public," he bluffs, mind racing. Elizabeth has covered her face with her hands, but he soldiers on. "There aren't many places to sit, so I kicked off my shoes and sat on the bed. When you knocked, we didn't want you to get the wrong idea about the meeting -- as you obviously did -- so I hid."
"A meeting." Rodney smirks. "Without your pants?"
John looks down to check, and sure enough, he's only wearing his boxers. "Uh ... I forgot?"
McKay just laughs.
[end]
Title: How Not to Keep Secrets in the Pegasus Galaxy
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff
Word Count: ~1300
Feedback: Very much appreciated. Good, bad, or in between.
When he sleeps in his room, his alarm goes off to wake him at five-thirty on the dot, and it's so loud and jarring that he's halfway out of bed before he even realizes he's awake. Needless to say, early mornings in his room are not particularly pleasant.
But when he spends the night with her, he wakes slowly. His body's internal clock wakes him at five-thirty, but without the jolting shock of his alarm. Instead, he becomes increasingly aware of the vaguely floral scent of her shampoo and the feel of her naked skin beneath his fingertips.
He dozes, then, content to just lie there with his chin pressed into the crook of her neck and his arm draped around her waist, wrapped around her like a second blanket. It's only when he hears the beginnings of the slow crescendo of her alarm that he really wakes up; it's then, as she begins to stir, that he presses a kiss to the nape of her neck and slips away from her.
This morning, however, is a little different. He's still lost in his early-morning haze when there's a loud knock on the door, and a muffled shouting from the corridor.
John is awake instantaneously, but Elizabeth is still murmuring, asking for, "five more minutes, come on."
He shakes her shoulder, gently, quickly, and tries to pull his arm out from underneath her head. "Elizabeth, come on," he whispers.
More knocking, loud and insistent, and more muffled shouting. He thinks it might be Rodney, from the tone of his voice and the way that the words seem to flow, one after the other with no break for breath.
He most definitely does not want Rodney coming in. Not here. Not now. Not ever, really. "Elizabeth, please," he says into her ear, hoping that Rodney can't hear him over the noise. "You have to wake up. McKay's at the door -- you need to send him away."
That gets some response. "Rodney?"
"Yes. Come on," he says. He presses a brief kiss against her pulse point before sliding away from the comfort of her warm body to search for the clothes that he abandoned the night before. His shirt is on the floor beside the bed, and his boxers are hanging artfully off the corner of the dresser, but the rest of his clothes still appear to be AWOL.
She rises, slowly, as he checks under the bed to see if they managed to lose any clothes down there -- it has happened before, but not this time -- and her feet make soft thumping sounds as she pads across the floor towards the door.
He gives up on the bed and begins to put on his boxers just as Elizabeth's footsteps still. "Rodney, what is it?" she asks through the closed door. Her voice is dark, almost sultry, and he can't help but turn to look at her. She's leaning against the door dressed only in a pale blue sheet that gapes open in the back, and there's a long, delicious stripe of skin that John would have taken advantage of on any ordinary day. Unfortunately, his boxers are around his ankles and McKay's at the door, so examining Elizabeth's skin up close isn't exactly an option at the moment.
The knocking stops, and McKay's voice is softer, although no slower. His following rant is long enough that John manages to get on his boxers and shirt before Elizabeth responds. "All right, Rodney. I'll be out in a minute."
John pulls on one sock and rifles through the bedclothes in an attempt to find the other. "Elizabeth, that's not a good idea," he says softly. "He'll see me."
"You can hide in the bathroom," she says, quite logically, even as he finds his prize -- a sock, tucked between the mattress and the footboard.
He tugs it on, one-legged, as he tries to scour the room for his remaining clothes. "Have you seen my jacket?" he asks, and turns around to a full frontal view of her breasts.
His brain promptly goes on a long holiday.
He is drawn back to reality, however, when she crosses her arms and levels a glare at him. "I'm up here."
"Yes. Right."
She shakes her head. "Sometimes I wonder whether you're in this for me, or my breasts."
He settles his hands on her bare hips and draws her towards him. "You know I love you," he says, looking directly into her eyes.
She slides her arms around him and leans into him, her breath hot against his neck as she sighs. "I do," she says, and he can feel the words vibrating into his skin. "And I love you."
He rests his chin against her hair, very much enjoying the feeling of her naked body in his arms. But before he can get too comfortable, she presses a quick kiss to his jaw and pulls away. "Come on," she says briskly. "We have to get moving."
He tries to get his thoughts back on track as she pulls on a bra and a t-shirt in quick succession. She's halfway through pulling up her pants when he finally remembers what he was searching for. "Jacket?"
She turns and smiles at him. "Under the desk," she says smugly, "which you would have known if you'd actually been listening instead of staring at my breasts."
"Oops?" he tries, not very sincerely, and ducks beneath the desk to look for his jacket. Sure enough, there's a puddle of black and gray, just as she suggested. "Thanks," he says. When he stands, she's fully dressed and already moving towards the door, running a hand through her hair to smooth it down.
"Bathroom," she says quietly, and gestures towards it. "Now. Go," she says.
He ducks into the alcove that serves as her bathroom, shrugging into his jacket as he goes. And then he hears the swish of the door opening, and McKay's voice, loud and clear. "Why weren't you answering your radio? I've been trying to --"
"Rodney, there was something vital that you had to tell me. I hope it was worth bothering me at --" There is a pause, probably Elizabeth checking the bedside clock. "-- five thirty-eight in the morning."
"Yeah, I'd say it was worth it. I mean, yes, it is kind of early -- or, really, rather late, because I stayed up all night doing this -- but --" There is a long pause. "What's that?"
"Oh, that? That's nothing." But Elizabeth's voice is nervous, and John wonders what it is that Rodney saw.
"Nothing? That looks like shoes, and I don't think your feet are that big." His voice is the kind of smug tone that John associates with a pointed finger and a superior expression. "You've got someone in here, don't you? In the bathroom, maybe?"
Rodney's voice is getting closer, now, but it's not like there's anywhere that John can go -- the game is as good as up. It's time to control the situation while they still can.
John steps forwards, out of the bathroom. "It's not what it looks like," he tries. "We were having a meeting. About ... certain problematic personnel, so we didn't exactly want to do it in public," he bluffs, mind racing. Elizabeth has covered her face with her hands, but he soldiers on. "There aren't many places to sit, so I kicked off my shoes and sat on the bed. When you knocked, we didn't want you to get the wrong idea about the meeting -- as you obviously did -- so I hid."
"A meeting." Rodney smirks. "Without your pants?"
John looks down to check, and sure enough, he's only wearing his boxers. "Uh ... I forgot?"
McKay just laughs.
[end]