Trouble
Title: "Trouble"
Author: PrettySirenx
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut, humor
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU.
Author's Note: These two just seem to attract trouble, don't they?
Rush was pretty sure Chloe was daft. He was really too busy to follow her on her ramble into the woods, but, for the strangest reason, he felt the ridiculous urge to protect her, which confused and vexed him, but he couldn’t leave it alone. And so, he followed.
“You’ll keep an eye on her, right?” Lt. Scott called after him; he waved the affirmative impatiently.
It didn’t take long to catch up to her.
“Did Matt send you after me?” she asked, tearing her way through some thick brush.
“Lt. Scott did ask me to keep an eye on you, yes,” Rush replied. “However, I don’t know why he couldn’t bother to do so himself.”
“He’s busy,” Chloe said, shrugging. It annoyed Rush how easily she’d grown to make excuses for her on-again-off-again paramour. “But I don’t need a keeper,” she added. “I’m a grown woman. I’ll be twenty-four on my birthday.”
“Almost ready for the old folk’s home.”
“You can laugh all you want, old man,” she said impishly. “But I can still beat you to the top of that hill.”
“I’m not going to race you,” he said seriously, stopping. She stopped too. But there was still that wicked smile on her face and he knew there was no way to win other than to actually win. She took off and he followed at her heels. She laughed the whole while -- further proof that she was daft, though he found it somehow charming nonetheless.
She beat him -- though just barely. For a forty-something former smoker, he thought he did rather well. They both stood at the top of the hill, panting.
“I can’t believe you actually raced me,” she said.
“I compulsively accept absurd challenges,” he replied. “It’s a problem.”
She nudged him playfully with her elbow. And that’s when something bad happened: the ground fell out from under their feet. The last thing Rush felt before everything went black was a really, really hard impact, his shoulder taking the brunt of it.
Chloe’s coughing roused him from his shallow state of consciousness.
“Are you alright?” she asked, crawling over to him through all the dirt and rubble.
“I think my shoulder’s out of socket,” he said, confessing it as though it was some terrible weakness in his own character.
“I can fix it,” Chloe said. “I’ve seen T.J. do it before.”
“Are you sure?” he panted. But, if he was honest, he didn’t care whether or not she was sure. It hurt so bad he was willing to do anything to find relief.
She nodded and grabbed his forearm with a surprisingly firm grip. She placed her other hand on his shoulder.
“Are you ready?”
He nodded. She counted to three and jammed his arm as hard as she could until he felt a painful pop. At first, he was horrified, fearing that she’d actually managed to break something, but then he found -- to his immense relief -- that the pain was quickly ebbing.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much.”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” he said. He took his flashlight out of his bag and shined it around the hole they were in, which turned out to be less of a hole and more of a sort of room. It was cruder than an ancient Egyptian tomb, but it had a certain style and elegance to it that definitely suggested it had a mortuary purpose. “I think it’s a burial mound.”
“You mean…we’re in a grave with dead, alien bodies?”
“I think so.”
He crawled over to what appeared to be a sarcophagus; shining his light on its stone surface, he brushed off the dirt to reveal vivid pictographs. They were so basic, they conveyed themselves easily -- even to his alien eyes. A strangely proportioned skeleton surrounded by mourners confirmed his suppositions.
“It’s definitely a burial mound.”
Chloe shined her own flashlight up at the ceiling, which was over fifteen feet high.
“There’s no way we’re climbing out of here,” she said. She reached into his pocket and extracted his radio.
“You’re not going to get a signal,” he said, shining his flashlight at the walls. “The walls are covered in white lead.”
“But it’s daylight,” Chloe said, hopeful optimism lining her voice. “They’ll see our tracks and find us.”
Rush said nothing. He didn’t have much faith in Lt. Scott remembering they’d wandered off. However, T.J. was with the party; she had more sense than the others -- she’d realize they were missing. At least, that was what his small sense of optimism -- something he rarely had -- told him.
“This is all my fault,” Chloe said. “If you hadn’t followed me, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“But if I hadn’t followed you, you’d be in this mess alone, and that would never do,” he said, trying to brighten her spirits in his own way. “But I admit, you are trouble, lass.”
“I’m not the only one,” she protested, though she wasn’t angry -- she was making a valid point. “We do tend to get ourselves into the more interesting scrapes out of the group.”
He laughed and then winced, clutching his side.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Chloe asked, her brow furrowed. She scooted closer to him.
“I’m fine,” he said; he shifted and then winced again.
“You’re not fine. I think you may have some cracked ribs. Take off your shirt.”
The way she sounded commanding made him temporarily forget his discomfort. She began unbuttoning his fatigues for him when he didn’t comply quickly enough, which also made it hard to think about his pain -- or anything, for that matter. The blood was quickly leaving his brain and he wished it wouldn’t, but she was just so pretty and close, it was a natural response.
“Yeah, they’re definitely cracked,” she said, brushing her fingers down his skin. Her touch was so gentle, it hardly hurt. “I’m going to have to clean and tape these until T.J. can take a better look at you.”
“You know how to do all that?” he asked; he couldn’t hide the admiration in his question, nor did he want to.
“You aren’t the only person I bother while they’re working,” she smiled. “I watch her while she works sometimes and learn what I can. She even gave me my very own first aid kit to take on away missions.”
He truly was impressed by her -- but he always was. She never disappointed in that regard.
And he watched her as she put the flashlight in her mouth so that her hands would be free. It was awful and inappropriate, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of those lips. The way they were wrapped around that flashlight made him think thoughts he knew he shouldn’t think about her. He wondered what those lips would feel like wrapped around him. He wondered if she realized what he was thinking. And while he was wondering all of these things, she finished mending him.
“There,” she said. “All better -- for now.”
“Thank you.”
“So, I guess we just sit here and wait to be rescued?”
“That’s the plan.”
She leaned up against the wall beside him.
She smiled as she spoke, “Well, this misadventure wasn’t a total bust.”
“How do you reckon?”
“I think you’re going to come out if it with a very sexy scar.”
“Scars are sexy?”
She nodded, “Especially when they’re on mysterious people such as yourself. It makes you seem even more dangerous, which is very attractive.”
“You think I’m attractive?”
“I didn’t say that!” she laughed; the blood rushed to her face.
“You did.”
“Shut up,” she said, nudging him. He winced and she realized what she’d done: she’d thoughtlessly nudged him in the ribs. “God, I’m sorry -- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”
She leaned down and kissed his bandage. But then she pulled away.
“I’m really sorry. Not only did I hurt you, but now I’m being inappropriate. I think I’m just going to go to the other side of this tomb and die. You can just leave me here when they rescue you. It’ll be convenient and --”
“Chloe -- it’s fine.”
“Not, it’s not,” she said. “I’m always such a spaz around you.”
“You’re not.”
“I am. I’m so awkward and weird and --”
“You’re perfect, Chloe. Completely and utterly perfect, and you’re not capable of wrong-doing -- at least not in my eyes.”
“You’re just being nice.”
“I’m not,” he said honestly. “I’m really not. In fact, I’m being the opposite.”
“Why?”
“Because --”
He leaned up and kissed her, brushing his lips across hers slowly and sensually.
“Because I want to do that to you -- and more. And you’re too good for that. You don’t need someone like me tainting you.”
“I want you to taint me,” she said softly. But the kiss that followed was anything but soft -- she practically tore at his lips, kissing him with a furious passion which could only have stemmed from months and months of repressed feelings.
Against his better judgment, he ripped her jacket off -- because it felt right, and that was what was important in that moment. The way she made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before and he wanted to further explore the experience more than he wanted to breathe.
She kissed his collar bone, brushing her lips over it in the most tantalizing way as he explored her body with his hands, taking mental notes of the softness of her skin and the curve of her back. She was so beautiful, so perfect -- God, how had he managed to keep his hands off of her this far? Now that she was in his arms, he never wanted to let her go. He wanted that moment -- that perfect moment -- to last forever.
She took his cock into her mouth and he shivered. It felt too good. It felt better than he could’ve ever imagined. And it wasn’t because she was well-practiced; rather, it was the primal sensation of her lips and their innate talent which drove him mad with ecstasy.
“God, Chloe,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. That made her smile, but she continued finding her groove once more, until he burst into her mouth, calling out her name once more -- this time it was lower and more like a growl of pleasure.
She crawled up his body, carefully avoiding his ribs, and kissed his lips, pressing her tongue to his as she did so. And then she did what he hoped she would: she slid herself onto his cock and began riding him, finding a rhythm that felt so good, it was incredibly cruel. She began moaning his name too, panting and gasping as the pleasure intensified. All he could think about was how good he felt, not only physically, but the closeness he felt with her then. It was unparalleled and addictive. He wanted that moment to last forever. And it could, because even after he came, he felt as though he could go for another round. She incited something in him which had been dormant far too long.
She clawed at his chest as she reached her own climax, throwing her head back as she writhed and moaned, savoring the bliss. She smiled and leaned to kiss him; he couldn’t help but smile too. He was alive.
There was a noise up above and she jumped off of him, scrambling to put on her pants and find her top.
“Chloe!” a voice called. It was Lt. James. “Dr. Rush -- are you down there?”
“Y-yes,” Chloe said, tripping and falling onto the dirty ground with one leg in her pants.
Lt. James peeped her head through the hole, shining a light. Chloe had just managed to get her clothes on; Rush was still shirtless, though he’d managed to zip up his pants. Still, they were sweaty and their hair was messy; it was evident what they’d been doing.
“Were you two just doing what I think you were doing?” James hissed; her voice was laced with awe, amusement, and some form of awkwardness.
“We were making the best of it,” Chloe replied, helping Rush to his feet.
James smiled. She waited for them to finish getting dressed before she alerted the others to their whereabouts.
“Sex in a burial mound,” Rush mumbled to Chloe as the team threw them down a ladder. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you were trouble.”
She merely smiled in response.
Author: PrettySirenx
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut, humor
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU.
Author's Note: These two just seem to attract trouble, don't they?
Rush was pretty sure Chloe was daft. He was really too busy to follow her on her ramble into the woods, but, for the strangest reason, he felt the ridiculous urge to protect her, which confused and vexed him, but he couldn’t leave it alone. And so, he followed.
“You’ll keep an eye on her, right?” Lt. Scott called after him; he waved the affirmative impatiently.
It didn’t take long to catch up to her.
“Did Matt send you after me?” she asked, tearing her way through some thick brush.
“Lt. Scott did ask me to keep an eye on you, yes,” Rush replied. “However, I don’t know why he couldn’t bother to do so himself.”
“He’s busy,” Chloe said, shrugging. It annoyed Rush how easily she’d grown to make excuses for her on-again-off-again paramour. “But I don’t need a keeper,” she added. “I’m a grown woman. I’ll be twenty-four on my birthday.”
“Almost ready for the old folk’s home.”
“You can laugh all you want, old man,” she said impishly. “But I can still beat you to the top of that hill.”
“I’m not going to race you,” he said seriously, stopping. She stopped too. But there was still that wicked smile on her face and he knew there was no way to win other than to actually win. She took off and he followed at her heels. She laughed the whole while -- further proof that she was daft, though he found it somehow charming nonetheless.
She beat him -- though just barely. For a forty-something former smoker, he thought he did rather well. They both stood at the top of the hill, panting.
“I can’t believe you actually raced me,” she said.
“I compulsively accept absurd challenges,” he replied. “It’s a problem.”
She nudged him playfully with her elbow. And that’s when something bad happened: the ground fell out from under their feet. The last thing Rush felt before everything went black was a really, really hard impact, his shoulder taking the brunt of it.
Chloe’s coughing roused him from his shallow state of consciousness.
“Are you alright?” she asked, crawling over to him through all the dirt and rubble.
“I think my shoulder’s out of socket,” he said, confessing it as though it was some terrible weakness in his own character.
“I can fix it,” Chloe said. “I’ve seen T.J. do it before.”
“Are you sure?” he panted. But, if he was honest, he didn’t care whether or not she was sure. It hurt so bad he was willing to do anything to find relief.
She nodded and grabbed his forearm with a surprisingly firm grip. She placed her other hand on his shoulder.
“Are you ready?”
He nodded. She counted to three and jammed his arm as hard as she could until he felt a painful pop. At first, he was horrified, fearing that she’d actually managed to break something, but then he found -- to his immense relief -- that the pain was quickly ebbing.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much.”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” he said. He took his flashlight out of his bag and shined it around the hole they were in, which turned out to be less of a hole and more of a sort of room. It was cruder than an ancient Egyptian tomb, but it had a certain style and elegance to it that definitely suggested it had a mortuary purpose. “I think it’s a burial mound.”
“You mean…we’re in a grave with dead, alien bodies?”
“I think so.”
He crawled over to what appeared to be a sarcophagus; shining his light on its stone surface, he brushed off the dirt to reveal vivid pictographs. They were so basic, they conveyed themselves easily -- even to his alien eyes. A strangely proportioned skeleton surrounded by mourners confirmed his suppositions.
“It’s definitely a burial mound.”
Chloe shined her own flashlight up at the ceiling, which was over fifteen feet high.
“There’s no way we’re climbing out of here,” she said. She reached into his pocket and extracted his radio.
“You’re not going to get a signal,” he said, shining his flashlight at the walls. “The walls are covered in white lead.”
“But it’s daylight,” Chloe said, hopeful optimism lining her voice. “They’ll see our tracks and find us.”
Rush said nothing. He didn’t have much faith in Lt. Scott remembering they’d wandered off. However, T.J. was with the party; she had more sense than the others -- she’d realize they were missing. At least, that was what his small sense of optimism -- something he rarely had -- told him.
“This is all my fault,” Chloe said. “If you hadn’t followed me, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“But if I hadn’t followed you, you’d be in this mess alone, and that would never do,” he said, trying to brighten her spirits in his own way. “But I admit, you are trouble, lass.”
“I’m not the only one,” she protested, though she wasn’t angry -- she was making a valid point. “We do tend to get ourselves into the more interesting scrapes out of the group.”
He laughed and then winced, clutching his side.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Chloe asked, her brow furrowed. She scooted closer to him.
“I’m fine,” he said; he shifted and then winced again.
“You’re not fine. I think you may have some cracked ribs. Take off your shirt.”
The way she sounded commanding made him temporarily forget his discomfort. She began unbuttoning his fatigues for him when he didn’t comply quickly enough, which also made it hard to think about his pain -- or anything, for that matter. The blood was quickly leaving his brain and he wished it wouldn’t, but she was just so pretty and close, it was a natural response.
“Yeah, they’re definitely cracked,” she said, brushing her fingers down his skin. Her touch was so gentle, it hardly hurt. “I’m going to have to clean and tape these until T.J. can take a better look at you.”
“You know how to do all that?” he asked; he couldn’t hide the admiration in his question, nor did he want to.
“You aren’t the only person I bother while they’re working,” she smiled. “I watch her while she works sometimes and learn what I can. She even gave me my very own first aid kit to take on away missions.”
He truly was impressed by her -- but he always was. She never disappointed in that regard.
And he watched her as she put the flashlight in her mouth so that her hands would be free. It was awful and inappropriate, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of those lips. The way they were wrapped around that flashlight made him think thoughts he knew he shouldn’t think about her. He wondered what those lips would feel like wrapped around him. He wondered if she realized what he was thinking. And while he was wondering all of these things, she finished mending him.
“There,” she said. “All better -- for now.”
“Thank you.”
“So, I guess we just sit here and wait to be rescued?”
“That’s the plan.”
She leaned up against the wall beside him.
She smiled as she spoke, “Well, this misadventure wasn’t a total bust.”
“How do you reckon?”
“I think you’re going to come out if it with a very sexy scar.”
“Scars are sexy?”
She nodded, “Especially when they’re on mysterious people such as yourself. It makes you seem even more dangerous, which is very attractive.”
“You think I’m attractive?”
“I didn’t say that!” she laughed; the blood rushed to her face.
“You did.”
“Shut up,” she said, nudging him. He winced and she realized what she’d done: she’d thoughtlessly nudged him in the ribs. “God, I’m sorry -- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”
She leaned down and kissed his bandage. But then she pulled away.
“I’m really sorry. Not only did I hurt you, but now I’m being inappropriate. I think I’m just going to go to the other side of this tomb and die. You can just leave me here when they rescue you. It’ll be convenient and --”
“Chloe -- it’s fine.”
“Not, it’s not,” she said. “I’m always such a spaz around you.”
“You’re not.”
“I am. I’m so awkward and weird and --”
“You’re perfect, Chloe. Completely and utterly perfect, and you’re not capable of wrong-doing -- at least not in my eyes.”
“You’re just being nice.”
“I’m not,” he said honestly. “I’m really not. In fact, I’m being the opposite.”
“Why?”
“Because --”
He leaned up and kissed her, brushing his lips across hers slowly and sensually.
“Because I want to do that to you -- and more. And you’re too good for that. You don’t need someone like me tainting you.”
“I want you to taint me,” she said softly. But the kiss that followed was anything but soft -- she practically tore at his lips, kissing him with a furious passion which could only have stemmed from months and months of repressed feelings.
Against his better judgment, he ripped her jacket off -- because it felt right, and that was what was important in that moment. The way she made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before and he wanted to further explore the experience more than he wanted to breathe.
She kissed his collar bone, brushing her lips over it in the most tantalizing way as he explored her body with his hands, taking mental notes of the softness of her skin and the curve of her back. She was so beautiful, so perfect -- God, how had he managed to keep his hands off of her this far? Now that she was in his arms, he never wanted to let her go. He wanted that moment -- that perfect moment -- to last forever.
She took his cock into her mouth and he shivered. It felt too good. It felt better than he could’ve ever imagined. And it wasn’t because she was well-practiced; rather, it was the primal sensation of her lips and their innate talent which drove him mad with ecstasy.
“God, Chloe,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. That made her smile, but she continued finding her groove once more, until he burst into her mouth, calling out her name once more -- this time it was lower and more like a growl of pleasure.
She crawled up his body, carefully avoiding his ribs, and kissed his lips, pressing her tongue to his as she did so. And then she did what he hoped she would: she slid herself onto his cock and began riding him, finding a rhythm that felt so good, it was incredibly cruel. She began moaning his name too, panting and gasping as the pleasure intensified. All he could think about was how good he felt, not only physically, but the closeness he felt with her then. It was unparalleled and addictive. He wanted that moment to last forever. And it could, because even after he came, he felt as though he could go for another round. She incited something in him which had been dormant far too long.
She clawed at his chest as she reached her own climax, throwing her head back as she writhed and moaned, savoring the bliss. She smiled and leaned to kiss him; he couldn’t help but smile too. He was alive.
There was a noise up above and she jumped off of him, scrambling to put on her pants and find her top.
“Chloe!” a voice called. It was Lt. James. “Dr. Rush -- are you down there?”
“Y-yes,” Chloe said, tripping and falling onto the dirty ground with one leg in her pants.
Lt. James peeped her head through the hole, shining a light. Chloe had just managed to get her clothes on; Rush was still shirtless, though he’d managed to zip up his pants. Still, they were sweaty and their hair was messy; it was evident what they’d been doing.
“Were you two just doing what I think you were doing?” James hissed; her voice was laced with awe, amusement, and some form of awkwardness.
“We were making the best of it,” Chloe replied, helping Rush to his feet.
James smiled. She waited for them to finish getting dressed before she alerted the others to their whereabouts.
“Sex in a burial mound,” Rush mumbled to Chloe as the team threw them down a ladder. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you were trouble.”
She merely smiled in response.