CT: Kissing Bandit
Patient’s Name: John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Prompt: 44-1. Mistletoe
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1,611
Partner: Various (canon)
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John Sheppard had paused briefly in the doorway that marked a transition from hallway to wide-spot in one of Atlantis' many corridors when it happened the first time. He had been absorbed in a report on the table computer he carried, the details of which weren't really important outside of the fact that he had to have at least a passing familiarity with the contents before he arrived at his briefing. The pause had been the result of a particularly tricky passage, the existence of which he suspected was McKay's or some other scientist's fault. It's very nature in indecipherableness had the Lieutenant-Colonel mentally scratching his head as he came to a stop, brow furrowing as he read and re-read the words. The narrow-eyed, scrunched-up frown that played over his face was suddenly grasped by firm, yet delicate hands and his protest died on his lips as another, softer pair pressed his in a chaste kiss. ...A chaste kiss that turned into something a little more risqué as his assailant used her tongue to coax open his mouth and invade. All thoughts of that report fled as the tablet fell from his hands. Now freed from their technological burden, the found their natural home on the other's hips, drawing her close as he fell willingly into the embrace. The tablet was saved from a violent encounter with the floor by the sheer fact that John had had the strap wrapped tightly around one wrist.
Almost as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended, and the brown eyes that played over his face as the woman smirked at his befuddled look had him captivated. He swallowed hard, his mouth opening to say something, when she whispered "Merry Christmas, Colonel," before biting her lip shyly and pushing past him to continue on her way. John blinked several times as he watched her go, hands still frozen in place where her hips used to be. It was the weight of the tablet that drew his attention back to the present, and he shook his head to clear it as he rescued the computer from its place in limbo. He walked on, a little shaken by the encounter, but still glancing back over his shoulder before he hit the next hallway. That was when he saw it, the little sprig of green leaves with red berries hanging from the lintel of the doorway he'd paused in.
With a wry smile, he snorted softly and then headed off to his briefing, information on the tablet forgotten as he kept a wary eye out for more mistletoe. He hated Christmas.
The second time it happened, he'd been on his way to the gym for a sparring session with Teyla, spinning his bantos rods idly in random patterns as he slowly loosened his muscles in preparation. He had bent to re-tie a shoelace that had come undone, and was just standing up again, rods in hand, as the arms slid around his neck, the perfume assailed his nostrils and the oh so very soft and cherry-flavoured lips claimed his. This time, his drive-by kisser spared the niceties and went for the full-on passionate kiss, her tongue dancing with his as the bantos rods fell clattering to the ground and he wrapped his arms around her. John managed to get one arm around her waist and the other across her back as his hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair, elliciting a tiny, longing whimper from his partner. Before he could growl softly in answer and deepen the kiss, she pulled away abruptly and wiggled out of his embrace. She looked incredibly embarrassed, her cheeks matching the colour of her now messy lip-gloss. She gifted him with a quiet and equally flustered squeak before running off.
He stared after her, panting slightly and glancing up to see the mistletoe. He groaned softly in slight irritation before he reclaimed his bantos rods and headed off to the gym to meet Teyla, who promptly pointed out the evidence of the kiss. He merely offered his favourite Athosian a mumbled deflection as he hastily wiped the gloss off his mouth with the back of his hand, and repaid the knowing smirk she flashed him by giving her the work-out of a life-time and managing to kick her ass at least once during their entire session.
He really hated Christmas.
The third time it happened, he was prepared. He had been on the verge of paranoia for the better part of a week, refusing to stop anywhere, forget doorways, without first making sure that the ubiquitous mistletoe was not present. It had garnered raised eyebrows from everyone, though he dared not explain. He knew that he'd never hear the end of it from McKay and Ronon, and he suspected that the other two members of his team would take to carrying around a spring just to torture their CO. He'd be damned if he let that happen. HIs constant vigilance had paid off, however, as he was once more roaming the corridors alone. He was on his way to lunch with his team when he spotted the hated little plant adorning the lintel of the next doorway. He was all for making out with beautiful women, but he preferred to have the kissing be a part of an actual date, or something. He liked knowing the names of the girls he made out with; it was a prerequisite in the John Sheppard School of Dating.
John had begun to suspect some sort of plot among the women of Atlantis, involving the random placing of mistletoe and then laying in wait for him to pause. He gained a confirmation of a sort, when he circumvented a sprig and then caught a snippet of disappointed conversation in the mess hall during the next mealtime. This time, whoever was to be his kissing bandit this time was going to get a shock, as he schooled himself into his usual nonchalance. He approached the doorway, stopping under the mistletoe to fiddle with a piece of clothing. He counted down in his head from five, and as he reached two he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. At the last moment, John looked up and captured the woman by the wrists, holding on firmly, but not so hard as to hurt. Her eyes went wide as she realized that she had been found out. She tried to break free, but John wouldn't let her. Her shocked gasp was exchanged for a breathless exhale as John turned and pushed her up against the wall.
The space between them would hardly fit a sheet of paper, he knew, but now that his face was close to hers and they were sharing the same air, she didn't seem to mind so much. His eyes played over her face as hers did likewise. She licked her lips in anticipation, her breathing deep, yet even.
"Colonel Sheppard," she greeted softly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
He grinned ruefully closing the remaining distance between them. "Your little friend hanging above our heads. I'm on to you ladies and your little game."
"Oh," she intoned, her breathing beginning to quicken slightly. "It would seem so," she admitted sadly. "We hoped it would have taken you longer to figure it out."
"Hmmm. I'm sure. Tell me one thing?" he asked, pressing his body against hers lightly.
"Anything," she replied, the word coming out in a breathless whisper.
"What's your name?"
"Alysia."
"Alysia," he repeated, nodding slightly. "Nice to meet you."
And then his lips fell atop hers in a slow, deep kiss. She moaned softly, relaxing under him. He lowered her arms and she gladly slid them around his neck as he took her by the hips and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he leaned into her, pinning her against the wall as his hands moved to support her bottom. The kiss was as soul-searching as it could be for two strangers who rarely saw each other in passing during daylight hours, as Alysia's fingers threaded through the Colonel's unruly hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss. The heat and fervour of the kiss drove all senses out the window, and Alsyia completely forgot that John was the one in control this time. Just as she was about to tighten her legs around him and pull him in closer, John pulled away, just as breathless as she was, and eased her back to the ground.
She moaned sadly, clearly unsatisfied and obviously wanting more. He smiled kindly before dropping a kiss on her cheek and whispering, "Merry Christmas, Alysia."
He continued on to the mess hall, glancing back in time to see Alysia close her eyes and lean her head back against the wall as she let out a half-sigh-half-groan of longing. John smirked to himself, knowing that the encounter would be delivered to the entire female population that had been in on the wandering mistletoe prank by dinner. For once, he was looking forward to how they would retaliate, and thoughts of how he could thwart them next time began to bounce around his head. His teammates gave him a collective curious look, and he offered nothing, save for the smirk that wouldn't leave. Teyla, Ronon and McKay all gave up trying to coax it out of him by the meal's mid-way point, and that was okay. He wasn't really up to sharing this little game with anyone.
And when all was said and done? He supposed that Christmas wasn't so bad, after all.
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Prompt: 44-1. Mistletoe
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1,611
Partner: Various (canon)
----------
John Sheppard had paused briefly in the doorway that marked a transition from hallway to wide-spot in one of Atlantis' many corridors when it happened the first time. He had been absorbed in a report on the table computer he carried, the details of which weren't really important outside of the fact that he had to have at least a passing familiarity with the contents before he arrived at his briefing. The pause had been the result of a particularly tricky passage, the existence of which he suspected was McKay's or some other scientist's fault. It's very nature in indecipherableness had the Lieutenant-Colonel mentally scratching his head as he came to a stop, brow furrowing as he read and re-read the words. The narrow-eyed, scrunched-up frown that played over his face was suddenly grasped by firm, yet delicate hands and his protest died on his lips as another, softer pair pressed his in a chaste kiss. ...A chaste kiss that turned into something a little more risqué as his assailant used her tongue to coax open his mouth and invade. All thoughts of that report fled as the tablet fell from his hands. Now freed from their technological burden, the found their natural home on the other's hips, drawing her close as he fell willingly into the embrace. The tablet was saved from a violent encounter with the floor by the sheer fact that John had had the strap wrapped tightly around one wrist.
Almost as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended, and the brown eyes that played over his face as the woman smirked at his befuddled look had him captivated. He swallowed hard, his mouth opening to say something, when she whispered "Merry Christmas, Colonel," before biting her lip shyly and pushing past him to continue on her way. John blinked several times as he watched her go, hands still frozen in place where her hips used to be. It was the weight of the tablet that drew his attention back to the present, and he shook his head to clear it as he rescued the computer from its place in limbo. He walked on, a little shaken by the encounter, but still glancing back over his shoulder before he hit the next hallway. That was when he saw it, the little sprig of green leaves with red berries hanging from the lintel of the doorway he'd paused in.
With a wry smile, he snorted softly and then headed off to his briefing, information on the tablet forgotten as he kept a wary eye out for more mistletoe. He hated Christmas.
The second time it happened, he'd been on his way to the gym for a sparring session with Teyla, spinning his bantos rods idly in random patterns as he slowly loosened his muscles in preparation. He had bent to re-tie a shoelace that had come undone, and was just standing up again, rods in hand, as the arms slid around his neck, the perfume assailed his nostrils and the oh so very soft and cherry-flavoured lips claimed his. This time, his drive-by kisser spared the niceties and went for the full-on passionate kiss, her tongue dancing with his as the bantos rods fell clattering to the ground and he wrapped his arms around her. John managed to get one arm around her waist and the other across her back as his hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair, elliciting a tiny, longing whimper from his partner. Before he could growl softly in answer and deepen the kiss, she pulled away abruptly and wiggled out of his embrace. She looked incredibly embarrassed, her cheeks matching the colour of her now messy lip-gloss. She gifted him with a quiet and equally flustered squeak before running off.
He stared after her, panting slightly and glancing up to see the mistletoe. He groaned softly in slight irritation before he reclaimed his bantos rods and headed off to the gym to meet Teyla, who promptly pointed out the evidence of the kiss. He merely offered his favourite Athosian a mumbled deflection as he hastily wiped the gloss off his mouth with the back of his hand, and repaid the knowing smirk she flashed him by giving her the work-out of a life-time and managing to kick her ass at least once during their entire session.
He really hated Christmas.
The third time it happened, he was prepared. He had been on the verge of paranoia for the better part of a week, refusing to stop anywhere, forget doorways, without first making sure that the ubiquitous mistletoe was not present. It had garnered raised eyebrows from everyone, though he dared not explain. He knew that he'd never hear the end of it from McKay and Ronon, and he suspected that the other two members of his team would take to carrying around a spring just to torture their CO. He'd be damned if he let that happen. HIs constant vigilance had paid off, however, as he was once more roaming the corridors alone. He was on his way to lunch with his team when he spotted the hated little plant adorning the lintel of the next doorway. He was all for making out with beautiful women, but he preferred to have the kissing be a part of an actual date, or something. He liked knowing the names of the girls he made out with; it was a prerequisite in the John Sheppard School of Dating.
John had begun to suspect some sort of plot among the women of Atlantis, involving the random placing of mistletoe and then laying in wait for him to pause. He gained a confirmation of a sort, when he circumvented a sprig and then caught a snippet of disappointed conversation in the mess hall during the next mealtime. This time, whoever was to be his kissing bandit this time was going to get a shock, as he schooled himself into his usual nonchalance. He approached the doorway, stopping under the mistletoe to fiddle with a piece of clothing. He counted down in his head from five, and as he reached two he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. At the last moment, John looked up and captured the woman by the wrists, holding on firmly, but not so hard as to hurt. Her eyes went wide as she realized that she had been found out. She tried to break free, but John wouldn't let her. Her shocked gasp was exchanged for a breathless exhale as John turned and pushed her up against the wall.
The space between them would hardly fit a sheet of paper, he knew, but now that his face was close to hers and they were sharing the same air, she didn't seem to mind so much. His eyes played over her face as hers did likewise. She licked her lips in anticipation, her breathing deep, yet even.
"Colonel Sheppard," she greeted softly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
He grinned ruefully closing the remaining distance between them. "Your little friend hanging above our heads. I'm on to you ladies and your little game."
"Oh," she intoned, her breathing beginning to quicken slightly. "It would seem so," she admitted sadly. "We hoped it would have taken you longer to figure it out."
"Hmmm. I'm sure. Tell me one thing?" he asked, pressing his body against hers lightly.
"Anything," she replied, the word coming out in a breathless whisper.
"What's your name?"
"Alysia."
"Alysia," he repeated, nodding slightly. "Nice to meet you."
And then his lips fell atop hers in a slow, deep kiss. She moaned softly, relaxing under him. He lowered her arms and she gladly slid them around his neck as he took her by the hips and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he leaned into her, pinning her against the wall as his hands moved to support her bottom. The kiss was as soul-searching as it could be for two strangers who rarely saw each other in passing during daylight hours, as Alysia's fingers threaded through the Colonel's unruly hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss. The heat and fervour of the kiss drove all senses out the window, and Alsyia completely forgot that John was the one in control this time. Just as she was about to tighten her legs around him and pull him in closer, John pulled away, just as breathless as she was, and eased her back to the ground.
She moaned sadly, clearly unsatisfied and obviously wanting more. He smiled kindly before dropping a kiss on her cheek and whispering, "Merry Christmas, Alysia."
He continued on to the mess hall, glancing back in time to see Alysia close her eyes and lean her head back against the wall as she let out a half-sigh-half-groan of longing. John smirked to himself, knowing that the encounter would be delivered to the entire female population that had been in on the wandering mistletoe prank by dinner. For once, he was looking forward to how they would retaliate, and thoughts of how he could thwart them next time began to bounce around his head. His teammates gave him a collective curious look, and he offered nothing, save for the smirk that wouldn't leave. Teyla, Ronon and McKay all gave up trying to coax it out of him by the meal's mid-way point, and that was okay. He wasn't really up to sharing this little game with anyone.
And when all was said and done? He supposed that Christmas wasn't so bad, after all.