Chapter 2

Elizabeth looked up from yet another failed attempt at meditation when John came through the curtain around her infirmary bed. The grim cast to his features was all too familiar. "From the look on your face you have bad news."

He sat down on a near bench, unable to look her in the eye. "Not bad. But you're not going to like it."

"I'm not going to like good news?"

He took a deep breath, "Teyla stumbled on a way to keep this..." he waved his hand, "at bay." Out the corner of his eye he saw her perk up and just blurted out, "Having sex."

She stared at him incredulously. He finally looked up with an apologetic wince and shook his head, "Carson and Heitmeyer are talking to the others right now, starting with the worst affected, and I already wrote up official dispensations from the fraternization rules. Most of the women are ones that the betting pools keep claiming are involved with someone. We're hoping they can be counseled that a relationship is a healthy thing; or at least that mutual respect can keep them alive."

By now he was back to staring firmly at his own hands, playing with a loose thread on his pants. "Who knows, maybe in the hours before they can't take it anymore, Carson or Rodney will come up with something and we can all avoid the repercussions this could have" He made himself look up, keeping his expression distant and neutral with a conscious effort.

She was still speechless, but then shuddered as the throbbing hit another high, again beating through Carson's drugs. John's jaw clenched, worry making him angry enough to get over the inherent embarrassment of the situation. With his report done, the doctor's deadline was in the forefront of his thoughts, forcing him to face the unpalatable thought that he might have to proposition Elizabeth on such impersonal grounds.

On the so-few occasions he had allowed himself to think of their someday having a relationship, never. But never. Had he contemplated having to talk her into sex; let along for medical reasons!

"You" he started, knowing it was his job, both as the commander of Atlantis while she was incapacitated, and as her friend, to make sure she did this.

"No!" her response was immediate and vehement, complete denial of her continuing fight to calm down. Glaring at him in helpless fury.

He tensed even more, hating this. "Elizabeth! You are going to die! Surely there is someone you trust enough for this." He refused, in any way, to be the one to make this about him; them. She needed to live, no matter who ended up making that possible. If she chose another, he'd probably pound his fists and feet into the wall of some isolated room somewhere, but she would be alive and tomorrow would be another day.

"Die?" her voice was less strident, shocked surprise clearly making her mind kick in and think more logically.

He nodded, voice hard to make sure the words got out, "Yeah. Carson says maybe a day." Her eyes closed, concentrating on getting her breath back for a few moments. He softened his tone, "Please Elizabeth." Holding himself in check, not reaching for her as he wanted. Knowing what happened when they touched and still not wanting this to be about...

"You." Her voice was short. Not ecstatic, but not furious either.

His head jerked up, eyes widening in surprise at the capitulation, even as unasked-for joy flashed through him momentarily. He had to force himself to breathe calmly.

Her eyes opened on him and he slowly got up, knowing at least some of the relief he felt had to be visible. As much as he didn't like their hands being forced this way... it was still better than the torture of having her choose someone else, accept it though he would have.

He held out his hand to help her up but she shook her head, "Not here." He nodded, understanding they still had to avoid contact until they could have some privacy. Neither looked at Carson as they walked by him as he was explaining things to another of his patients.

Walking to her quarters, Elizabeth winced as they passed a worried-looking male marine heading for the infirmary, knowing that if not by now then very soon, everyone would guess why she and John were heading toward living quarters. Together. But what could she do. She wasn't a martyr, willing to die to be thought a virgin. And she wasn't going to use someone just so she could tell herself it was impersonal. She frowned, realizing she needed to talk to John before they did this. She refused to risk his friendship over this. To lose the far-fetched, long-denied hope of a possible future for them. To chance hurting him or losing his respect.

When she waved the door to her room open and invited him to precede her, John walked into her domain, maintaining a casual amble with effort. Keeping his uncertainty under wraps. Letting her set the tone and pace. It would be too easy for his clumsy self to take a wrong turn here and ruin... a lot. Bloody Pegasus galaxy bugs.

Elizabeth watched him look around her quarters with an odd look on his face, as though he was seeing something other than the quarters he had visited more than once in the past. Watched him, the arousal maddening her deepening with the knowledge of what they were about to do, making her inhibitions drop another notch. "I hope you know I'm half tempted to just jump on you." Was that husky voice hers?

He turned back toward her with a grin, "Am I supposed to be worried? Because..." He stopped talking, nostrils flaring as she deliberately stalked towards him with a wicked grin of her own. His muscles tensing and skin sensitive; this bug might not drives men crazy, but it had to be affecting them for him to react so thoroughly to so little. Or maybe it was her affecting him so thoroughly. Still, he'd have to remember to get Carson to look the men over too.

Elizabeth stopped a few steps short of contact, mind remembering with a strain that they had to talk. First. Really. "I want you to know... No." She shook her head in frustration, not used to being so distracted in her own head. "I need you to know. That this isn't just..." her hands waved impotently, trying to assign a word from her usually extensive dictionary to the situation. To the two of them. To...

"You're not here because you happened to be near or handy. I want..." She took a breath and stood straighter, looking him right in the eye. "My wanting you isn't something this... disease created. I've been attracted to you since we first met." Her courage was bolstered by the lust lighting up in his gaze, "I can't say we would have gotten here so soon.. or even ever," she smiled disarmingly, trying to take the sting out of that. "but now that we are, I have no desire to act as though this is a short-term 'medical treatment'..." Her voice dropped, uncertainty overruling the evidence of her eyes, "Unless you do."

"No?"

She firmed her jaw, feeling more confident, glad she took the time to explain herself when she caught the uncertainty in his voice, a match to her own. "No."

He grinned slowly; maybe this wouldn't destroy them after all. He made himself relax and take this as the possible gift it might turn out to be. Keeping his eyes locked to hers, taking the three steps until he was before her, this time allowing himself, now that it wasn't against her thinking will, to feel gleeful at seeing lust. For him. In Dr. Elizabeth Weir's eyes.

The flyboy in him was determined to prove he was up to the job. The primitive in him, standing so close, could smell her arousal and needed no further reason. Thought was way overrated.

He dropped to his knees before she could stop him, growling unconsciously at the scent of woman, his woman, he was suddenly surrounded in. He reached for the fastenings of her trousers, his mind focusing on one thing and one thing only; bring his mate to climax.

Over and over.

Her throat jammed as she watched him. She couldn't think anymore as her out of control arousal and the new anticipation left her tense but weak. Her hands settled on his shoulders as he lowered her pants and underwear, then stayed there to have something to hold onto. Too far gone to care that she was standing in the middle of her quarters, in the middle of the day, half naked. In front of her military commander.

Their eyes locked again, even as he ever so slowly brought his lips to her groin. Finally breaking the contact as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her right thigh, softly trailing his way upward, pleased beyond civilized reason with her jumping muscles and low moan. His hands firmly holding her hips still as she shuddered, instinctively trying to push her swollen sex to his lips.

There was a victorious grin pulling at his lips even as he reached the desire-soaked curls of her pussy. Part of him was shocked again at the fact that he was panting almost as much as she was. So hard he had to hold still for a minute, just flicking his tongue over her taut mound, his nerves gorging on those pheromones Carson had babbled about, unknowingly reacting to her. To the need permeating her blood.

Elizabeth was only faintly conscious of the fact that his hands were the only thing holding her up. Her whole being focused on the fact that she could feel him; feel his hot breath, so close to the core of coruscating heat in her. Feel his tongue toying with her. She was whimpering and didn't know. Her hands finally gripped his head and pulled him where she needed him and she didn't know.

Didn't know she screamed almost the moment he parted her labia with his tongue and closed his lips on her clit, searing heat at last spreading away from her pelvis as climax ripped through her. She didn't know that her lover's sweat was rubbed on her stomach as he continued to suckle her, that his pheromones soaked into her skin and coursed with her rushing blood through her system, already starting the process of making her body release the right hormones, allowing the orgasm to actually release some of the swelling torturing her.

Hearing a woman scream had never been more arousing, more incentive to do anything, whatever it took to make it happen again. What little of his thinking ability survived the very primitive urges running the show could still feel tension in her, even in the midst of her release; knew she needed more.

And only he would give it to her.

He could feel her nub still pulsing between his lips as her moans started to quiet and her fingers stopped digging quite so hard at his scalp. Wishing he could touch her, all of her, he promised himself that after this time they were moving to the bed. He opened his lips, feeding the primitive in him with a breath of his woman's pleasure. Then suckled her again, starting gently, flicking his tongue when he found a spot that made her initial uncontrolled jerk become a fight against his hold to get closer again, rather than away from his touch.

The experienced man in him knew to listen for what made her whimper, what made her hands clench. How hard, how long, where. He intended to know exactly how to bring her off, how to make her last, how to make her come in minutes. Wanted her to be so completely his that neither of them could ever contemplate being intimate with anyone else.

She didn't know when she started chanting his name, barely intelligible through her moans. But he knew, felt every syllable send pleasure right to his already too restricted erection. Making him groan with his own need, the vibrations on her clit sending her over the edge again with a long-drawn-out moan.

He held onto her, grinning in silent satisfaction, as she came back down, noticeably more relaxed now. Licking gently at her dripping folds, finally getting to taste the tangy honey that he knew he had to have been unconsciously breathing in for last several days. That he wanted to slide his throbbing cock through.

He knew he had to move soon. His arms were objecting to the awkward work and his crotch was objecting to his tight pants, but she was still shuddering softly and he was enjoying feasting on the fruits of his labor. On the undeniable truth of her wanting him. On making her moan again with just the quick stroke of his tongue.

God she was so bloody aroused. And his; all his.

As Elizabeth's head dropped back down from where it had been thrown back in the throes of ecstasy, her eyes opened on a sight out of her most intimate dreams, able now to think enough to enjoy it. The vision of John Sheppard on his knees with his face buried in her sex was one to blow the mind and make the release of a moment ago seem a thing of the past.

She had daydreamed of him on his knees before her in a few different situations and for reasons that sometimes had nothing at all to do with sex. But the dream that went with his tongue teasing her slowly into more pleasure, that was one she would not have willingly shared with anyone. Except maybe the man raising his head, blinking eyes dilated with arousal at her.

He rose, still holding her hips or she'd have fallen, giving her a slightly predatory smile before kissing her. Their first kiss, had either had the thought to spare. Her hands slid into his hair to hold him where she wanted him. Tongues dancing, demanding to taste. When she got the upper hand and sucked his into her mouth, imitating other activities, he jerked her hips to his groin in reaction, grinding himself into her, feeling her soak through his too-thin, way too-tight, pants; making them both shudder with need.

Elizabeth felt his erection thrusting on her clit, taking her breath away again, forcing her to raise her head to pant, giving up the taste of her juices on his skin. John lifted her feet off the floor by her hips and stepped the two of them quickly to the bed. The hurried movements making her moan at the friction, his lips greedily taking the sound into his own throat.

When he would have laid her down and stepped back to undress, she put an arm around his neck, pulling him down on top of her, then flipping him next to her, climbing on top, holding his hands on the bed above his head. Finally finding a use for the self-defense moves that he had insisted she learn.

She knew he would insist on pleasuring her again, had gotten the message loud and clear when he so skillfully suckled her to a second climax when she was still recovering from the first. She wanted to make sure she gave him some before he stole her mind again.

Umm, first the glow from seeing him on his knees and now holding him prisoner, she grinned at him, their faces only a few inches apart, maybe he was turning her into a dominatrix. She could actually get used to this. Maybe some handcuffs...

Rather than waste time on a fantasy when the reality was flexing his hips, rubbing himself on her wet heat, she pulled back, tapping his wrists with a teasing glare to say she wanted them kept where they were, ignoring the happy smirk he'd been flashing her since she took him 'prisoner'. She undid his trouser carefully, then slowly tugged them down, tempted to take his underwear off with her teeth; ignoring the giggly thought for the sake of efficiency. This time. Sliding the boxers down, taking care not to go near the shaft that sprang out, tempting her to let herself be distracted. Trailing herself teasingly, slowly, down his legs, keeping their eyes locked. Finally getting his boots out of the way to finish undressing his lower half.

She grinned at his intent gaze, getting up and pulling the last of her own clothe off. Stopping with a blink as she felt her earpiece get jostled, sharing a rueful look with John as he broke position to take his own off. Leaning down to give him an affectionate peck on the lips as they both laid their communicators on the bedside table. Going back to her spot at the foot of the bed, she stared at him with a raised brow until with a final chuckle he got back where she'd left him, the mood less hurried, intimacy deeper than it had been. Re-rooted in the relationship between them.

Suddenly being gloriously naked in front of this man felt exactly right. Finding herself much more curious about his whole body than she could remember feeling about anyone, she crawled onto the bed, starting back up his legs, dropping kisses on his calves, knees and thighs. She kept a teasingly lewd eye on her destination, wondering how long he would keep his hands where she had left them. Enjoying every twitch and moan she could wring from her man. Enjoying that he let her have power.

Dropping a last kiss on his hipbone, she let her hair stroke him first. Smiling for an instant with the thought of all the times that emergencies had arisen suddenly on Atlantis; thinking of showing up in the control room with her lover's precum in her hair... Glad John couldn't read her obviously wanton mind or she'd never hear the end of the teasing. She finally turned her head, feeling his stomach muscles tense under her balancing hand, hearing his breath jerk in its panting.

Going straight for the sensitive spot, she licked along the line running from his sack up his cock, relishing his muffled shout, straining to keep his hips on the bed with a forearm across his stomach, feeling her own arousal getting heavy again. His earlier ministrations meant she could bear to torture him for a little while before seeking her own satisfaction, but that was about it.

Happy with making him react so strongly, and finding herself reacting deep inside to the smell of aroused John, she stayed and suckled at the same spot. Unaware of the pheromones dumping into her system, only feeling their resulting dizzying arousal. Fingers alternating between very lightly running all along his length and teasingly playing with his balls. Finally letting his moaned mangling of her name influence her into letting him go. Pinching his thigh when he started to sit up and reach for her.

He fell back with a groan, voice a raspy growl, "Elizabeth, you're going to kill me."

She grinned, not waiting for him to settle back down and start watching her again, taking him in her mouth in a tight slide, fingers massaging the base, bobbing torturously slowly on him. The feel of him flexing to her movements, the taste of him on her tongue, the incoherent groans spilling from him. All making her lose her already tenuous grip on thought.

John's mind was drowning somewhere between Heaven and Hell; when she moaned, the vibrations just outright threw him at the edge. Shock bringing in an instant of reason, he managed to hold on to the cliff with grim determination. Jerking upright quickly, reaching to haul her up for a searing kiss, one hand guiding her head for his ravaging, the other gliding up her now bare ribs to mould to her breast; the new sensation slowing his urgency momentarily. The soft mound on his palm, and her mewl of pleasure as he flicked the beaded nipple, filled more of those basic male needs he'd never succored to, let along allowed out, during his dealings with Elizabeth.

When she shifted in his distracted grip and straddled him, he was suddenly buried to the hilt in molten heat, every muscle contracting, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. Allowing himself to be pushed back down to the bed as his hips jerked, hands going to hold onto her waist as they both fought for breath in the new intensity.

Elizabeth didn't wait, couldn't wait, for her breath to steady. She reached for his shirt, shoving it up awkwardly. Glad he could hold himself in mid-crunch for her to pull it over his head. Needing to feel her lover's skin under hers. Moaning as his tensed abs and thighs thrust him into her as he lifted his arms, getting free of his last piece of clothing.

Splaying her hands on his ribcage as he returned to gripping her waist, warm skin and beautiful man, greedy senses thoroughly enjoying him for the second it took her body's demand that she 'get on with it' to get the upper hand again. Lifting her hips slowly until he was almost out, tensing her muscles to give the head of his cock a very intimate massage. The resulting tug on her clit threatening to make her muscles fail.

Wishing they could go more slowly but knowing there had never been a chance she could wait, she watched his reaction through burning eyes, wanting at least that memory. Gritting her teeth to keep the wildness inside her from taking over just yet. Faintly amazed that her authoritative military commander was letting her control this; letting her torment him when there was nothing to stop him bringing the superior strength of the muscles under her hands into play.

His eyes were squinched shut, jaw locked tight, lips parted, trails of sweat furrowing into his already-spiked hair, every muscle on his chest deliminated and tensed. She promised herself she'd take the time very soon to kiss every line. The hands holding onto her were digging into her waist as he moaned with every squeeze of her muscles. Body straining with hers to reach for the pleasure standing just out of their reach.

The tug of tendons and the draw on sensitive skin took her actions and spread the pleasure throughout her pelvis, finally breaking her will to torture him. She lowered her hips as slowly as she could manage, and then couldn't hold anything back anymore, riding him in a rapidly increasing rhythm, bending forward just enough for every stroke to hit her clit. Hands gripping his shoulders, her eyes locked with his now wide open ones within the curtain of her hair.

Then he moved one of his hands, bringing a thumb to stroke her clit. "Oh GOD!", she cried out as his fingers tracked to one of those spots he'd found earlier, stroking it quickly. Her eyes rolled as her movements got jerkier, whimpering. She needed... needed, God yes, so close. She could hear his voice far away, shouting or growling, too lost in her need to come to pay attention. And suddenly she was there, felt a veritable tsunami of pleasure appear and roar through her as she screamed; searing, scalding heat, muscle-knotting tension. Knocking out her every sense as it crested.

When she finally came back around to herself, she was as weak as a kitten. And as content. Her mind still in a gray fog. A soothing tingle playing itself out through her skin and veins, last ripples of pleasure playing through her.

Laying full-length on John's body, his heartbeat pounding in her ear, his hands stroking her back... still feeling him inside. She smiled sleepily; hearing his breath catch as she clenched around him without thinking.

Relishing the thoroughly pleasured state of her body, feeling sleep freely calling to her for the first time in a few days. She had to force herself to move, even enough just to turn her head to kiss the lightly haired section of chest under her cheek, half-heartedly wanting to raise herself and kiss him properly, then sighed and let herself relax to sleep. Her last thought that they probably needed to talk; about life, about work. But she passed out before she could apply any power to doing anything about it.

John's lips kept twitching up in the corner, cuddling Elizabeth filling him with effervescent warmth. Glad she looked about to pass out considering how tired he knew her to be. For himself, he was just too hyped up to sleep. His body was sated for now, but his mind was still playing catch-up.

Watching Elizabeth Weir give him head, watching her face as she rode him to her pleasure, sweat dripping from her forehead and between her breasts. His mind trying to concentrate on her, his body completely focused on everything she was doing to him, on getting to the heart of the blaze of pleasure she was creating.

Next time he would be on top, could taste her, follow every rivulet of sweat as her perfectly tight sheath brought him to such heady pleasure that he had no idea what he shouted, or how hard his hands had to have gripped her.

Even now, when he should be wiped out, just the memory, and the way she still held him inside her... he could feel himself responding again. What this woman did to him, he thought with a cheeky grin. As he lay there, mind slowly getting drowsy, enjoying every inch of skin to skin contact, ignoring his stirring cock, the reality of the situation settled into his mind.

Now that the chance of death seemed to be passing, the fact that Elizabeth was sleeping on him; that they had finally gotten past friendship, and with a bang at that! He wanted to laugh out loud with the exhilaration. If he hadn't been busy being used as a pillow, he probably would have done something as daft as a happy dance. He fell asleep with the widest flyboy grin on his face.

TBC