Author: Cyclone
Rating: PG13
Summary: She was toying with him. And also laughing at him. Right to his face, too. It was kinda hot.
Notes: So this is it – my first Stargate: Atlantis fic. Of course it's shippy – and of course, it's Sheppard/Weir. They're just so adorable that I couldn't resist. Many thanks to my wonderful beta Shane for her help in fine-tuning this story. Thanks also go to Mary for allaying my fears regarding my characterisations. And finally, to Traci for getting me hooked on Sheppard/Weir in the first place.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, they would have christened the puddle jumpers already. Numerous times, in an endless variety of positions. ;)
XxX
Major Sheppard left her office with a spring in his step and Elizabeth couldn't help herself. Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, and even though she knew that they should be focused on the computer in front of her, they preferred instead to watch her sprightly ranking military officer as he made his way through the command centre. It didn't help at all that they appreciated his back view almost as much as they did his front view and were sending all sorts of 'rawr' signals to her brain. And it certainly didn't help that her brain was receiving these signals loud and clear with an 'oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about' attitude that made her face flame and her pulse race. Especially when it knew exactly how inappropriate it was that she was ogling her second in command in the first place.
Her brain – which clearly she couldn't rely on anymore to be the voice of reason – had betrayed her for a tight butt and bed hair. She sighed and turned reluctantly back to her computer. She'd thought it was better than that. Obviously she had been wrong.
A slight crackle in her ear dragged her thoughts away from tight butts, bed hair and her body's traitorous reaction to the aforethought splendours. "At least tell me if it's supposed to represent an actual living person," the voice on the other end of the headset coaxed.
"As opposed to one of the Smurfs?" she retorted, smiling again at the conversation they'd just shared.
She'd enjoyed it much more than she should have. It had felt good to laugh and joke and pretend that the weight of the world wasn't on her shoulders. It had felt really good, and she suspected that reason why it had felt so good was because for once she was the one who was laughing at him.
"Just tell me that I won't have to kick his ass."
"Why would you have to kick his ass?" she asked, puzzled.
"In case he got . . . fresh, or something. Made unwelcome advances. On account of you having an ugly representation of him perched on your desk. Some men could view that as an open invitation to further intimacies."
"Some men?"
"Yeah, some men. On the whole, we're lechers. A beautiful woman keeps a statue of us – even an ugly one – on her desk, and we're gonna press that advantage. It's a male thing."
There was a muffled silence from her end.
"You're laughing at me again, aren't you?" he accused, but there was amusement in his tone and she knew that he was enjoying their verbal sparring as much as she was.
"No, not at all."
But she so was.
"You so are."
"I promise you that you won't have to kick his ass. You don't have to worry about him making unwelcome advances." Or any advances at all, she thought to herself, and then startled at the longing that accompanied that thought.
"Are you saying that his advances would be welcome?" All amusement had disappeared from his voice, replaced with a steeliness that she'd heard on only a few occasions.
"I'm saying that it's a moot point. Although," she mused, "it would be a very interesting battle. I could probably sell tickets."
"I'd win," he said seriously.
"I don't doubt it."
"Just sayin'."
"I know."
"Okay then."
There was a moment of awkward silence as she tried to decipher his change of mood. "Was there anything else that you wanted, Major?" she asked, drawing back to the more familiar role of expedition leader addressing her 2IC. "Apart from wanting me to solve the puzzle for you?"
"I wouldn't have to solve the puzzle in the first place if you hadn't made it one."
"Then shouldn't you get to work on that instead of bothering me?"
"I'm not bothering you," he denied, and she could actually hear the smirk that she was sure that he was wearing.
She looked down at the pile of work that she had yet to get through and sighed.
He heard it, of course, and she knew immediately that he felt bad for distracting her. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I am bothering you. I'll go solve the mystery of the ugly Smurf and let you get back to it. Sheppard out."
And then he was gone, and she was left alone with an endless pile of reports and her new figurine. She picked it up and turned it in her hands. Oh, she was really looking forward to seeing the look on John's face when he discovered who it represented. Really. She put it down with regret and turned her attention back to the work at hand. She was going to be there for hours, she'd probably forget to eat, and as for sleep – pfft, she could forget about seeing her pillow anytime soon. But her mood was light and her smile was still firmly in place.
Because he had called her beautiful.
TBC