Fanfic - "Morning Rituals"
Title: Morning Rituals
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Spoilers: None
Summary: She wasn't a morning person.
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis.
Author's note: For rory_elizabeth who prompted me with "Blankets" and for pixilove66 to whom i promised some shiny and produced fluffy...i hope that will suffice.
Feedback: Is love.
All John could see of Elizabeth was her feet, one leg up to about mid-thigh and her nose, through slightly hidden beneath a thick cover of lose brown curls, the very curls that had bunched up on her pillow as she buried her head deeper into the blankets, covering her face.
He laughed. She wasn’t a morning person. Neither was she a sleeper usually, but when she did sleep, there was no getting her out of bed, except perhaps a wraith attack or a chance to chastise Rodney. That always made her smile.
“My feet are cold.” He heard her mumble from underneath her feather-down canopy. He could see one eye through the curls, but it was still closed.
“And?”
“John,” she whined and he had to laugh, Elizabeth Weir never whined, as a rule. At least not in public. “Fix it.”
“What’s in it for me?” he whispered, shuffling over to her and sneaking his hands beneath the thick blanket to brush his fingers along her side. She shivered against his hand and John smiled.
“John, please.” Came her mumbled reply, that one sneaky eye opened just a fraction to look at him sitting there, showered and dressed and ready for the day. Fully clothed except for his shoes.
Elizabeth curled her body up further, dragging her knees towards her chest as she pulled the blanket tighter beneath her chin. Taking pity on her he pulled the corner of the rumpled blanket down over her bare feet and smiled when she let out a contented sigh.
“Better?”
She nodded her head and shuffled closer to him. “Much.”
Within moments she was breathing deeper and slower and John knew she’d fallen asleep again.
John loved mornings, mostly because they went through the same adorable routine. He’d drag himself out of bed at the crack of dawn, he’d shower, he’d find one of his shoes tucked under the bed and wonder for a moment how it got there, he’d go through her closet and pick out something for her to wear that day and never cease to be surprised by the abundance of red shirts he had to choose from, then he’d wander back to the bed and go through this little ‘Elizabeth Weir is really a five year old who doesn’t want to go to school’ routine.
He found it endearing.
Normally after a few moments of her falling back to sleep he’d have to wake her up again for a mission briefing or a scheduled shouting session with Kavanaugh. But not this morning, this was Sunday and they both had the day off. As far as day’s off went in Atlantis.
As if on cue Elizabeth’s eyes flew open and she looked up at him. “What day is it?!”
“It’s Sunday, relax.” He ran his hand through her curls, smiling down at her and Elizabeth let out a breath.
“Right,” she eyed him wearily. “...then why are you dressed?”
He shrugged. “Habit.”
“I can break that for you.” She smirked, letting one arm out into the light of day in order to run her hand along his thigh.
John’s breath hitched. “Oh, really?”
“Mhmm.” She shuffled closer again, pulling at his shirt until he lied down across the bed and pulled her onto his chest, leaning up to kiss her tenderly as she pulled her blanket over the both of them. “mm, that’s warmer.” She smiled, resting her head on his chest whilst she ran her fingernails across his ribs, beneath his shirt.
John ran his hands over her little white shorts as she placed her knees on either side of his waist and leant up to sit, looking down at him and exposing the soft fabric of his most favourite of her pyjama collection. The lacy white camisole.
“Do we have anything planned for this morning?” she questioned and he knew it was a ploy, she always had her entire schedule catalogued in her brain.
“Nope.” He answered anyway and Elizabeth smirked down at him before leaning slowly over and kissing him softly. John looked disappointed for a moment that she sat back up within moments but was happily distracted when she grabbed the edge of the blanket and giggled loudly as she pulled it over the both of their heads.
The end.
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Elizabeth
Spoilers: None
Summary: She wasn't a morning person.
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis.
Author's note: For rory_elizabeth who prompted me with "Blankets" and for pixilove66 to whom i promised some shiny and produced fluffy...i hope that will suffice.
Feedback: Is love.
All John could see of Elizabeth was her feet, one leg up to about mid-thigh and her nose, through slightly hidden beneath a thick cover of lose brown curls, the very curls that had bunched up on her pillow as she buried her head deeper into the blankets, covering her face.
He laughed. She wasn’t a morning person. Neither was she a sleeper usually, but when she did sleep, there was no getting her out of bed, except perhaps a wraith attack or a chance to chastise Rodney. That always made her smile.
“My feet are cold.” He heard her mumble from underneath her feather-down canopy. He could see one eye through the curls, but it was still closed.
“And?”
“John,” she whined and he had to laugh, Elizabeth Weir never whined, as a rule. At least not in public. “Fix it.”
“What’s in it for me?” he whispered, shuffling over to her and sneaking his hands beneath the thick blanket to brush his fingers along her side. She shivered against his hand and John smiled.
“John, please.” Came her mumbled reply, that one sneaky eye opened just a fraction to look at him sitting there, showered and dressed and ready for the day. Fully clothed except for his shoes.
Elizabeth curled her body up further, dragging her knees towards her chest as she pulled the blanket tighter beneath her chin. Taking pity on her he pulled the corner of the rumpled blanket down over her bare feet and smiled when she let out a contented sigh.
“Better?”
She nodded her head and shuffled closer to him. “Much.”
Within moments she was breathing deeper and slower and John knew she’d fallen asleep again.
John loved mornings, mostly because they went through the same adorable routine. He’d drag himself out of bed at the crack of dawn, he’d shower, he’d find one of his shoes tucked under the bed and wonder for a moment how it got there, he’d go through her closet and pick out something for her to wear that day and never cease to be surprised by the abundance of red shirts he had to choose from, then he’d wander back to the bed and go through this little ‘Elizabeth Weir is really a five year old who doesn’t want to go to school’ routine.
He found it endearing.
Normally after a few moments of her falling back to sleep he’d have to wake her up again for a mission briefing or a scheduled shouting session with Kavanaugh. But not this morning, this was Sunday and they both had the day off. As far as day’s off went in Atlantis.
As if on cue Elizabeth’s eyes flew open and she looked up at him. “What day is it?!”
“It’s Sunday, relax.” He ran his hand through her curls, smiling down at her and Elizabeth let out a breath.
“Right,” she eyed him wearily. “...then why are you dressed?”
He shrugged. “Habit.”
“I can break that for you.” She smirked, letting one arm out into the light of day in order to run her hand along his thigh.
John’s breath hitched. “Oh, really?”
“Mhmm.” She shuffled closer again, pulling at his shirt until he lied down across the bed and pulled her onto his chest, leaning up to kiss her tenderly as she pulled her blanket over the both of them. “mm, that’s warmer.” She smiled, resting her head on his chest whilst she ran her fingernails across his ribs, beneath his shirt.
John ran his hands over her little white shorts as she placed her knees on either side of his waist and leant up to sit, looking down at him and exposing the soft fabric of his most favourite of her pyjama collection. The lacy white camisole.
“Do we have anything planned for this morning?” she questioned and he knew it was a ploy, she always had her entire schedule catalogued in her brain.
“Nope.” He answered anyway and Elizabeth smirked down at him before leaning slowly over and kissing him softly. John looked disappointed for a moment that she sat back up within moments but was happily distracted when she grabbed the edge of the blanket and giggled loudly as she pulled it over the both of their heads.
The end.