Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: PG. Setting: Future, established relationship between Weir and Sheppard.
Notes: This one is all Little Red's fault. Totally. Title is from James' 'Laid'. Sort of.

But the Neighbors Could Complain.
by Ana Lyssie Cotton

Thunk. One boot. Thunk. Now the other. Oh, dear, GOD, that felt good. Cushiony carpet under socked feet. For a moment, Elizabeth Weir just enjoyed the sensation. Then she moved towards the large bed the room was equipped with.

"Uh... Lizzie?"

"Hrm?" She didn't want to answer him, too busy turning down the covers to get into bed because she was this close to falling asleep on her feet. Gate-lag from the Pegasus galaxy to Earth to fricking SCOTLAND was too much even for her.

"Your parents... they gave us just the one room."

She glanced over her shoulder at John, who was hovering in the doorway, and blinked. "Yes. So?"

"So, they're, I mean... parents." He ran a hand through his hair. "Isn't this the least bit awkward?"

"Are you planning on making me scream in ecstacy any time in the near future?"

He blushed. She blinked. Major John "I have slept with more alien chicks than Dr. Daniel Jackson and General Jack O'Neill combined" Sheppard actually. Blushed. Because her parents might hear them having sex. "You are so 12." She informed him.

"A very mature 12."


Stepping further into the room, he dumped his bag on the floor by the desk and stretched. "So."

"I," she informed him as she pulled her shirt over her head, "Am planning on sleeping. For at least two days."


He was watching her unsnap her bra with apparent interest. She stopped as she unbuttoned her pants, and eyed him. "You can't be serious."

"About?" He looked perfectly innocent.

Elizabeth was not fooled. "John Sheppard, I am going to DROP from exhaustion onto this bed in twenty seconds, and I am going to sleep. You will NOT molest my person."

"Not even a little?" There were the puppy dog eyes. The ones that had even gotten McKay, on occasion.

Teyla, of course, could resist them. But that was because Teyla was Teyla, and therefore immune to most male wiles. Except for back rubs. That woman could NOT get enough of hands on her back, muscles being rubbed... Elizabeth groaned. She was back on Earth for exactly a week, visiting her family, and she was thinking about Teyla.

Someone on a higher plain so hated her.


She finished pushing her pants down, debated on underwear, and decided she was REALLY not in the mood for wearing clothing to bed, and shucked it as well. She balanced carefully, and pulled off her socks, tossing them towards the far wall. Then she carefully folded her clothing and set it on the desk chair.

"Not that I'm not admiring the view, but..."

"John." A sigh escaped her as she crawled into the bed, curling up on her accustomed side and dragging at the covers. "I'll be asleep in ten seconds. And my feet are cold."

Which seemed to be enough for him, because he dropped the little boy pose and sighed. "I need to brush my teeth."

"Wow. You. Responsible." She mumbled. "Hell must be freezing over."

"Nah. McKay said the probability of that was, like, ten to the power of three thousand..." He stopped, eyeing her. "Lizzie?"

A soft snore answered him.


For a moment, John Sheppard eyed the now-sleeping woman, and considered the fact that her parents were two rooms away in the sprawling mansion. Then he shrugged, shed his own clothing in a much less orderly fashion, and clambered into the bed to cuddle against Elizabeth's back.

If nothing else, he decided as sleep ambushed him, he could find out why she always blushed when her Aunt Hilda called her Betsy.

In the morning.