NOTES: Thank you for the reviews! Although posting this now will no doubt result in a longer wait between later chapters, I didn't want to keep you all waiting too long. Besides, out of necessity, it's a short chapter. Since Elizabeth's too out of it to be very helpful in telling the story, it's Rodney's turn. We've finally seen Rodney's room in season two's Duet, but since pretty much every set has changed between seasons one and two--and we never saw his quarters in season one--I'm sticking with this description, which I wrote prior to Duet. Thank you, PurpleYin, for betaing this!

DISCLAIMER: Stargate: Atlantis and all things associated with it belong to other people.

SPOILERS: through Poisoning the Well

RATING: T (Don't let the ending fool you!)

UNION

PART 4

HOT COFFEE

The morning was still young. Dr. Rodney McKay had already showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, dressed, begun making coffee and read through four reports. The sooner he finished reviewing reports, the more time he had to experiment with Ancient technology, so he was usually diligent about keeping up with the projects of the dozens of scientists working in Atlantis. Besides, it gave him something light to occupy his mind while his coffee brewed.

Having his own private percolator was quite the trading triumph. He'd been able to instruct the Athosian glassblower on the design. In exchange for powdered chromium and copper, courtesy of the rock crusher in the geology lab, Rodney had become the first and only Earthling in Atlantis to possess a vacuum coffee pot. Being the Chief of Science, arranging for a frame to hold it and a gas stove to heat it was hardly a challenge. Chef was more than happy to provide Rodney with his own weekly stash of grounds; it gave the man as much as an hour of extra sleep each morning by not having to match schedules with the CoS.

The doorbell chimed, and Rodney opened it with a thought. Manipulating Ancient technology with his mind was one of the advantages of having the ATA gene. Sure, it could impress and even startle some staffers, but that was no reason not to use it.

Glancing up from a report, he was surprised to find Elizabeth standing in his doorway. It was still hours until their first meeting, and she never came to his quarters. Of course, Elizabeth being Elizabeth, it didn't surprise him that she knew where his quarters were. Still...

"Come in, Elizabeth. Have a seat." He hastily moved a stack of files from one of his kitchenette chairs to his desk, hesitating a moment to make sure the papers wouldn't topple onto the floor. Even with more than half of the various project materials submitted digitally, there was still plenty of paperwork. "I've just made coffee," he added, moving to switch off the stove. "Would you like some?"

When she didn't answer, he turned to find her right next to him, leaning close. It was almost as though she were sniffing him.

"What? I just showered!" he said indignantly.

She looked him in the eye, and he could tell something was wrong. There was no bright humor in her gaze, only a predatory gleam. He took a step back, and she followed him.

"Elizabeth, are you all right?" Rodney took another step and found himself trapped against his pantry.

Her only response was to reach up and touch his face.

He'd never known Elizabeth to be a particularly touchy person, offering only the occasional pat on the back or arm; anything more might be inappropriate. In all the months he'd been working with her, she'd touched him eight times, including shaking hands upon his arrival in Antarctica. Only once had she touched his face. For that occasion, he'd been nearly unconscious, but he was fully awake now.

Her cool fingertips skimmed his skin, tracing his lips, teasing the mole on his left jaw. It was the most sensual sensation he'd consciously experienced since...he wasn't sure when, and it spawned an internal mutiny.

Becoming aroused by your boss in front of her is very, very bad! screamed his intellect.

What's going on? What does this mean? wondered his confused psyche.

MORE! insisted his id.

But all he could manage to say was a breathless, "Oh," that was half shock, half desire.

His internal turmoil was brushed aside by her lips meeting his. It was no shy, curious peck. It was pure passion and ignited suppressed desires with astounding alacrity, overwhelming his uncaffeinated brain. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. She didn't object, and the feel of her against him added fuel to the fire. Twining her fingers behind his neck, she deepened the kiss, and for a time, he was helpless to do anything but respond in kind.

Kissing Elizabeth was even better than he'd imagined. Her lips were soft and supple, capable of all the deft variety her expressive features had always suggested. Rodney was grateful he hadn't had any coffee yet, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to fully enjoy the subtly sweet taste of her mouth. There was something truly exquisite about the feel of her skull beneath his fingers, the enticing tickle of her curls against his palm. His senses were so consumed with absorbing every nuance of the divine creature in his arms that the whole of his world contracted until it was just the two of them. If he had been struck down just then, he would have died a happy man.

It was the feeling of her fingers sliding under his shirt that finally liberated Rodney's intellect from his id's euphoric dominion.

That is just not right.

Her other hand joined the first, lazily plotting a course along his vertebra and drawing a moan of pleasure from him that she enthusiastically echoed.

Elizabeth would never be so casual about something like this.

With an effort, he pulled himself away from her lips, took a deep breath and tried to speak in a calm voice. "Elizabeth..." he began but was immediately silenced by a kiss.

She hasn't even said a word... Why is there something familiar about this?

Putting his hands on either side of her head, he held her still and pulled away so he might escape the sensuous onslaught.

"Elizabeth, say something," he pleaded. "Say anything."

Her expression wavered between vexation and disappointment. Then she reached up and pulled his face back to hers.

Well, at least that got her hands out from under my shirt, but talking obviously isn't going to fix this. Now what? I need help...

Rodney spotted his earpiece on the empty shipping container he used as an end table. Trying to move with her clinging to him proved ungainly, nearly causing him to fall. Realizing she probably wouldn't object, he wrapped his arms around her waist to pick her up and waddled over to the sofa, bumping his desk and sending the pile of reports cascading to the floor in the process. Once they'd arrived, it was a bit tricky trying to get at the tiny radio. He had to shove the crate aside with his foot and sit on the arm of the sofa so he was low enough to reach for it. Elizabeth straddled him without hesitation to accommodate the change. Then he had to struggle free of her kisses and peel her hand away from his left ear.

Finally, he managed to put on his earpiece and activate it. "Control, patch me through to Dr. Beckett's room and make the channel secure."

"Dr. McKay?" The reply was drowsy and accented with German. "But it's-"

"I don't care what time it is!" he barked, "Just do it!"

There was a brief patch of static followed by dead air.

Elizabeth persistently fussed with the transmitter. He had to keep a firm hand on her head and his chin awkwardly above it to continue talking.

"Have you patched me through?"

"He's not responding..."

Before Rodney could snarl at the man in Control, a groggy Scottish voice drawled in his earpiece. "Wha' izzit?"

Rodney waited for the faint click that indicated their connection was secure. "Carson, I need you to get a fast-acting, injectable sedative carried in a general medical bag and come to my quarters immediately."

Apparently giving up on trying to stop Rodney from talking, Elizabeth started kissing his neck.

"Wha'?" There was a distant fumbling sound, "Rodney, d'ya know-"

"I'm aware of the time," growled Rodney.

"Wha' on Earth d'ya need-"

"I'll explain when you get here." He paused a moment, repressing a gasp when Elizabeth's exploration of his collarbone suddenly included tongue. "I don't hear you walking, Carson."

"Give a man enough time ta make himself decent, why don'cha." The physician's voice seethed with indignation. "I'm no' about ta go traipsin' 'round the city half dressed!"

"Don't you have something with you so you don't have to go to the infirmary?"

"No, I don'."

"Fine. Just hurry."

Rodney lowered his chin and allowed Elizabeth to pull the radio from his ear. Holding her head in his hands, he gazed for a moment into her smoldering eyes.

What will happen if she remembers all this and doesn't forgive me?

Something inside him chose that moment to hurt. It was acutely painful, like some hollow space in his heart had been crushed and feeling rushed in to fill it, feelings that had nothing to do with physical desire.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered.

Elizabeth just smiled and slipped out of her jacket, revealing the modest, yet alluring, sleeveless blouse beneath. Then she pushed him onto the sofa.

All this before his first cup of joe.