More - Atlantis
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Fandom: Atlantis.
Title: More
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Category: Smut, angst.
Pairing: ShWeir baby!
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He wants more.
Archive: Anywhere!
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them.
Author’s notes: *Kisses her Shelbs*
Date: 12/06/2005
Copyright to Venom, 2005


She wears pink under her uniform.

Lace, silk, satin, pretty.

He suspects that she wears it because it makes her feel more like a woman. Or perhaps she just likes pink. John doesn’t really know. Either way, it works for him.

Even though he knows that she wears it, he still loves peeling off her uniform shirt to see the pink cupping her breasts. He lives for the moments when he pulls her standard issue pants down and sees the pink panties.

There is nothing quite like it.

But… he wants more.

He wants to ask her for more, but he doesn’t have the words, so he kisses her instead. She tastes sweet and he knows that she had dessert after dinner. Behind the sweetness though, he can taste her.


He wants more.

He is so screwed up.

She pulls back from him. She knows something is not right, she always knows. “John?”

“It’s nothing.”


“I’m fine.”

He distracts her by pulling the lace bra from her body – such a nice shade of pink, really – and latching on to the first nipple he can find. His name comes from her lips again but it’s not a question this time.


Yup. Definitely screwed up.

Kneeling before her, his lips leave the nipple to move downwards. He loves her belly, so soft, smooth and pretty. There’s a hole in her navel from a former ring. He wants to ask her about it, but that’s not what they do here.

The first time he fucked her was after the first death in Atlantis. She had come to his door after the memorial service, lost and alone, carrying the burden of a lost life on her shoulders. He had fucked her into responsiveness. She had kissed his cheek and left. They pretended it didn’t happen.

The second time was after he’d gotten the Wraith… thing… stuck to his neck. While the life was being slowly sucked out of him – literally – he had tried to tell her. She hadn’t wanted to hear it, but she had snuck into the infirmary and sucked him to the ends of the Earth later anyway.

After that, he learnt. Watched and watched until he would notice the signs.

She would get a certain set to her shoulders when the tension had built enough to push her over the edge. He would watch her the rest of the day, formulating the plan of action. He would go to her room when her shift ended and be waiting for her.

John knew – always knew – what she needed. He would fuck her until she cried or he would eat her out with a soft tongue and gentle hands until he sobbed. He knew which she needed.

Likewise, he suspected that she watched too.

When McKay would piss him off just so, or when something went wrong on a mission – even though she wasn’t there – she would know. And she would be waiting for him in his quarters when his shift ended. She would know when to suck him until his brain cried ‘uncle’ or when to ride him until he forgot anything but *her.*

He wanted More.


He has stopped at her belly, breathing in through her skin while his eyes watered. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are.”

She did that, too, sometimes.

While she fucked him, she would make him talk. He never remembers exactly what it is that he says, but it gets it – whatever ‘it’ is on that particular day – off his chest and he feels better but fuckinghell he wants *more.*

“Sure I am.” And he licks a wet circle around her navel to prove it.


Sigh. He is going to hate himself for this, he knows. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

His breath fans over the line of his saliva on her and she shivers as it cools. “What?”

“This. I think it’s a bad idea.”

She has to force the words out. “Because it’s… bad?”

He almost wants to shout at her. It’s not bad, not at all – they are not even in the same galaxy as bad – but it’s not enough anymore. They had a silent agreement and he’s broken it. Now he’s ending it.

“No, Elizabeth. It’s not bad. It was never bad.” He can’t look away from the wet patch around her navel. It’s fascinating him now, but he knows that she’s getting uncomfortable.

She proves him right a second later when she reaches over to the bed and grabs the first things she can find – his shirt – to cover her almost-naked body with. The long shirt hides everything, but he knows that the pink panties are there and he wishes he could see them again.

Sitting, she looks at him, confused. “I’m not sure I understand.”

John moves to sit next to her on the bed, not quite touching, but closer than he would sit next to any other woman. “I just… this isn’t what you want.” He isn’t what she wants. He knows.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because eventually, we’ll get home.”

“I hope so.”

“And you’ll go back to Simon.”


“Yeah.” He is pretty sure that he has never been quite this uncomfortable in his life before. Pretty sure.


He can’t handle this. He’s bad at this. He is giving up the best thing he has ever had. He’s an idiot. “Liz, don’t. Don’t apologize for what you don’t feel.”

She’s shocked again. “What I don’t… You think I don’t have feelings for you?”

“Not the kind I need.”

“I *thought* what you needed was a warm body and no questions.” He thinks that he sees a solitary tear escape her eye, but she looks away before he can be certain. She continues in a soft, reserved voice that makes him wish he wasn’t so screwed up. “I thought I was giving you what you wanted.”

“You are.” Sigh. “Liz, this isn’t about you, it’s about me.”

“Like hell!”

“I… what?” Of all the emotions he had expected to come form her – in the dark at night when he had entertained the crazy notion of ending this – he had never anticipated anger.

Her eyes are alight with passion, a little bit of lust and a fire that makes him want her all over again. “How dare you? How dare you sit there and tell me that this isn’t about me! Of course it is! As far as I know there are only two of us in this and I’m obviously the problem here! How *dare* you?”

“How dare you let me fall in love with you?” Fuck.

Her anger has dissipated, replaced once more with surprise. John refuses to admit that his cheeks are burning. “What?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”


“Don’t. I really think you should go.”

“Why? Because you think you’re vulnerable for having feelings?”

“I have feelings for an engaged woman, how am I supposed to feel?” He’s a simple man, he knows what he wants.

But he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if they were to get home tomorrow she would be in Simon’s arms faster than he could say ‘Thanks for the great sex.’ He wont let himself see that.

If he ends it now, he has a chance of surviving it when she thanks him for keeping her company on lonely nights and then goes back to her fairy tale romance. He can walk away with some dignity in tact.

“John…” His name is little more than a sigh from her lips and it’s possibly the sweetest sound in the world. She has her head cocked to the right, a soft smile on her lips, and he just wants to hold her and make everything bad in her life go away.

“You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“Breaking someone’s heart shouldn’t be easy, John.”

“I’ll live.”

“Maybe I wont.”

He isn’t stupid – despite the act – but he really has no idea what she means. John blinks a lot and stares into her watery eyes.

“You think you’re alone in this John… you’re not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You want to end this because you’re in love with me?”

Did she have to be so blunt? “Basically, yeah.”

“Well, I want to continue this because I’m in love with you.” He knows exactly how much saying that just cost her. He can see exactly how vulnerable she is right now and it would take one wrong word from him and he knows – just *knows* - that she would never be quite the same again.


“You think I sleep with you because you’re cute?”

“I am?”

Elizabeth smiles and the urge to protect her is back. “You know you are.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

“Thank you.” He loves it when she blushes. And he knows that the pink tinge to her skin extends down beneath his shirt.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Have you never been in love before, John?” *This* is the kind of thing that he imagined discussing with her. This is exactly what he wanted.

The admission is easy. “Not like this.”

She moves to straddle his thighs, brining their bodies together. “I think, perhaps, that you should kiss me.”

“I love you, Elizabeth.”

She smiles, brings her lips to his and John thinks that he could die happy right now.