Notes: Definitely a Sparky fic. Takes place sometime after the Season Three episode Irresistible.

I should have known something was amiss. Never before had Doctor Elizabeth Weir smiled at me in such a manner. Not that I minded. She had one amazing smile. It was just that I'd never seen her smile so…mischievously? Naughtily? Like the proverbial cat with the canary?

Good thing we sat in the commissary. The table hid the bulge that emerged in my pants. Never before had a smile and quirked brow had this sort of effect on me.

We were having a perfectly lovely breakfast conversation. Supplies. Assignment details. Offworld missions. When suddenly she pointed out the window.

"What's that?" she asked.

"What's what?" I replied.

I looked out the window. Expecting to see a Wraith dart hovering. Or at least a damn seagull. Instead I saw a whole lot of nothing. When I turned back to Elizabeth I swore she slipped a clear plastic vial into her jacket pocket.

"I didn't see anything."

"Oh," she innocently replied. "My bad."

It was my turn to quirk a brow at her colloquialism. I didn't comment on it. Instead, I simply resumed my breakfast. I remember the eggs tasting funny. But at the time I simply passed that off as a new cook. Airman Lorenz had been on KP duty for but a week.

"Remember, John," she smiled, "we have that meeting at 1000 hours. I expect you to arrive early and to sit front and center. And to give me your utmost attention."

I frowned slightly. Was I imagining that her behavior was slightly off? But when she hit me with another high wattage smile, I simply nodded and said, "I'll be there."

"Excellent!"

She stood and practically sauntered from the commissary. I couldn't help but notice how her hips swayed hypnotically.

Her behavior during the day was just as odd. And apparently it was infectious. Because I noticed how strange I began to act.

First was the meeting at 1000 hours. My entire team gathered to hear the intel in regards to our mission the next day.

Elizabeth began the briefing. Again donning the jacket from that morning. About 15 minutes into the session, Elizabeth suddenly stood. Proclaiming her back was stiff and she needed to stretch.

I couldn't help but immediately and earnestly voice my concern. The others flashed me quick odd glances. But for some reason I didn't care. And my concern didn't alleviate when Elizabeth assured me she was fine.

She arched her back. Twisted to loosen the muscles. I couldn't help but notice how her red shirt lifted to expose a slight expanse of stomach. How her breasts pushed forward against the flimsy cloth. My jaw dropped as I realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

A few minutes later, she proclaimed the conference room too hot. Off came the jacket. And her red shirt proved to be a red tank top. I gazed longingly at her lean, bare arms. She has such lovely arms.

But the surprise at her actions resulted in my tipping back in the chair. I crashed to the floor. Ronan and Teyla remained motionless. With expressions that clearly asked what the hell was wrong with me. Rodney laughed loudly.

Only Elizabeth helped me up. As she crouched next to me, I received a clear view down her tank. Yup. She definitely was not wearing a bra.

"Are you well, John?"

She had to ask me twice. I was so captivated by the view. When she finally got my attention (her face, that is), I knew that she knew where my focus had been. Instead of anger, I saw only amusement. Then she whispered into my ear:

"You like?"

That should have been another clue something was amiss.

The afternoon was spent, and I feel ashamed to say it, as her lapdog.

"John," Elizabeth asked sweetly, "would you go to Radek's lab and pick up that report he was to give me?"

"Sure, Elizabeth," was my reply.

"John, would you go see what it is Doctor Chatham wants? He's all the way in Science Lab Four, and I don't want to walk all that way." All of which she said in a schoolgirl voice.

"Not a problem, Elizabeth," was my reply.

Next she leaned forward behind her desk. Squeezed her breasts together and gave a clear view down her tank top. And just for added effect, gave a little pout. "John, I am so hungry. Would it inconvenience you to run down to the commissary and get me some lunch?"

"Of course not, Elizabeth," was my reply. "What can I bring you?"

Others seemed to notice my errand boy behavior. Someone muttered, "He's so whipped" as I returned with Elizabeth's Caesar salad and lemon iced tea. I should have taken offense. But when Elizabeth smiled oh so sweetly as I delivered her food, I completely forgot what those morons muttered.

"Thank you, John," she breathed in her most husky and alluring manner. "Sometimes you are just too good to me."

"Nothing's too good for our leader," I assured.

I then excused myself and took a long, cold shower.

And it didn't end there.

Around 1600 Elizabeth called me into her office. She had decided that her desk was positioned in the wrong spot. So I moved it. With considerable effort. Ancient desks are incredibly heavy.

She then observed the new position. I nervously bounced on my toes, anxiously awaiting approval. I so hoped I positioned it as she wanted.

"No, I'm sorry, John. I think it worked best in the original spot. Would it trouble you to move it back?"

"Not at all, Elizabeth." And so I moved it back. Much to the amusement of all those watching in the control room. But screw them. Elizabeth was pleased by my effort.

"You are such a strong man," Elizabeth cooed.

I simply blushed. Humbly said, "It was nothin', Elizabeth."

"Oh no, John. I very much appreciate your effort."

"Anything for you, Elizabeth."

That evening at supper, Elizabeth arrived late. So late that the food service ran out of dessert. Chocolate cake. Her favorite. When she sweetly asked if she might have a bite of mine, I blushed and gave her the plate.

"You should have it, Elizabeth."

"I couldn't, John. We simply must share."

"Oh no, Elizabeth. You deserve it. Working so hard all day to keep our city running. The least I can do is give you my cake."

She then took my hand and ran her thumb over the palm. Electricity shot all through my body. But one place in particular. Twice the table had save me some embarrassment.

"You are too good to me," she smiled.

Around 2200 Elizabeth appeared outside my quarters. I couldn't help the smile that appeared.

"Elizabeth! Would you like to come in?"

"Actually John, I wondered if you might come to my quarters? I need a big, strong man to lend a hand."

All too eagerly I replied, "Of course!"

She indicated the dresser against the wall.

"I dropped my hair brush behind that. And I simply cannot move it. I hate to ask…"

I quickly reassured her. "Elizabeth, it isn't a problem. I'll have your brush in a moment."

"Thank you, John." She ran a few fingers through my hair. I nearly melted. "I knew you'd help me. Now I must use the bathroom. Please stick around. I'd like to speak with you afterwards."

"Of course."

I only wish she had seen me move the heavy dresser. But that sadness was quickly replaced by the thought of how happy she would be to get her brush back.

I just pushed the dresser back into place when the bathroom door opened. I spun around, about to proudly display her recovered brush. But what I saw made me drop the brush. And my jaw.

Doctor Elizabeth Weir stood before me. Clad in a sheer royal purple silk dress. The strapless garment clung oh so heavenly to her breasts. Pushed them together with just the right amount of lift.

The midsection was delightfully transparent. Allowed a marvelous view of her toned stomach. When she had the time for situps, I had no idea. But damn, the work was paying off.

The dress ended at mid-thigh. Thankfully the garment ceased to be transparent at that point. Because I would have exploded otherwise.

To complete the ensemble were boots. Black leather boots. With stiletto heels. That reached up beyond her knees to allow only an inch or so of smooth, creamy skin to be seen between them and the dress.

"Oh….nurse," I breathed.

"Mmm," Elizabeth moaned. "That sounded like approval."

From behind her back she produced a dominatrix whip. She brought it up underneath my chin and lifted my head, effectively bringing my sightline from her wonderful breasts to her just as wonderful eyes.

"I'm up here, Colonel," she purred.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," I sincerely apologized.

"Oh, no no no, Colonel. I do not wish for you to refer to me as Elizabeth. Not tonight, anyway." She brought a painted fingernail to her pursed lips and pretended to think. They were royal purple, same as the dress.

"Tonight, refer to me as…Mistress."

Instinctively I replied, "Yes, Mistress."

Her lips curled into a smile that positively screamed "Sex Goddess". I was completely at her mercy and she knew it. And what more is she intended to make full use of it.

"Colonel, retrieve that stool."

I quickly retrieved the footstool from the corner. When I returned I found Elizabeth sitting on the bed. Her legs stretched out onto the floor. My God, she was beautiful.

I knelt before her. Instinctively knowing what she wanted. I placed the stool in position for her to use as a footrest. I then moved to stand up.

"No, Colonel, I rather like you on your knees."

Immediately I sank back to the floor. Perched before her on one knee. She caressed my cheek with the whip.

"Now, Colonel. Remove my boots."

In an erotic display, Elizabeth brought her left foot up to the stool. In a high, winding arc that gave me a clear indication of just how flexible she was.

"Remember, Colonel. Remove with care."

I delicately reached for the zipper and slowly began to remove the boot. When her knee became exposed, I felt an overwhelming compulsion to place a soft, languid kiss atop it. The process was repeated all the way down her leg. Until finally I removed the boot to expose her foot. Complete with purple toenails.

"Do you like that color, Colonel?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"I think I look wonderful in purple."

"I think you look wonderful in all colors, Mistress."

"Mmm, thank you, Colonel. Now please, other boot."

She removed her left foot, replaced it with the right. I removed the boot with the same attention and care.

"Such a good little soldier. And people warned me that you had problems following orders."

Now barefoot, Elizabeth fell back to the bed. Propped up on her elbows. Legs spread wide. Which gave me a clear view of the Promised Land. The completely shaven Promised Land. Elizabeth giggled at my expression.

"Oh dear. It seems that I forgot my panties."

"Oh…Mistress."

"Do you like what you see, Colonel?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Would you like to explore further, Colonel?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Mmm, I like your enthusiasm." She gently bit her bottom lip to restrain another giggle. "Then I guess your mission is a go."

I sat frozen for several moments. Not believing my good fortune. The leader of our city wanted me!

"Did you not hear me, Colonel? I said your mission was a go. Colonel?"

"Colonel?"

Before I knew it I was tumbling from my chair. Ronan and Teyla cast glances that wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Rodney laughed. Only Elizabeth moved to help me up.

Wearing her customary red t-shirt. A slight frown on her face. Then it hit me…

"Are you okay, John?" Elizabeth asked. "Do you need to see Carson?"

Another. Freaking. Dream.

"Uh, no."

"Okay," she drawled. "In the meantime, your mission to procure another spacegate is a go."

"Cool."

The rest of my team filed out. I silently cursed myself. Ever since that damn Lucius appeared I've been having these dreams. Sometimes I gave her the drug. Sometimes she gave it to me.

"You sure you're okay, John?"

I nodded. These dreams were mildly acceptable at night in my room. Wholly unacceptable during mission briefings. Moron.

"Are you sure? Because I swore I heard you mumble something about removing boots."

"Um, yeah. I need to requisition some new ones." A hasty retreat was in order. "I'll, uh, see you later, Mist…Elizabeth."

I couldn't run from the room fast enough.