Disclaimer: Not mine. Rating: Eh. Barely 13+ Vague sex references.
Spoilers: Well, this is set post-The Siege, so possibly bits of season two.
It was inspired by the new season two promos.
Pairing: Weir/Sheppard Archiving: please ask Notes: Was supposed to be all fluffy. Sorry.

For myQwirky.

This is Not a Sunday Morning by ALC Punk!

"Dr. Weir."

The voice was insistent, and finally pulled Elizabeth from sleep. She sighed and shifted out of the grip of the arm wrapped around her to reach for her comm unit. "Weir."

"Doctor!" The technician sounded relieved, "We've been trying to reach you. We can't seem to locate Major Sheppard, and the new Colonel wants to speak with him, sir."

The body beside hers shifted, skin sliding along skin, and Elizabeth held back a groan as it conjured up sense-memory from the night before. Fingers slipping along skin, tongue licking her neck, mouth closing on one nipple, then the other. And that was just the beginning.

"--knew where he was?"

Jerking out of the memory, Elizabeth shifted, trying to relieve the contact-pressure. "Major Sheppard?"

"Yes, sir," the technician sounded overly patient. "Dr. McKay believed you might have some idea as to his whereabouts."

"I assume you've checked his quarters?"

The hand on her hip flexed and the thumb began moving in lazy circles on a patch of skin. Her breath caught, and she wondered if she could kill him.

"Yes, sir, we have. First thing."

Elizabeth moved to one side, the hand and distracting thumb following. Her free hand closed around it, "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to find him."

"And you haven't seen him, doctor?"

Ignoring the question, Elizabeth signed off with the control room. Only then did she turn an exasperated look on the man sneakily groping her ass. "Do you mind, Major?"

"Not at all, doctor," he smirked.

"You know, when I agreed to check you out, I didn't mean for you to stay the night and then almost embarrass me over the radio, Sheppard."

He put on his best puppy dog look, "Come now, doctor, this is exactly what you expected."

"Is not."

"You're just grumpy," he informed her, pulling her against his side, "Because you haven't had morning sex."

"And you're overly-confident."

"Hey," John Sheppard said mildly, hands beginning to wander, "I know my own talents."

Elizabeth had to agree with that one. She didn't have to tell him, though. "I'm sure you do, Major." Her hands caught his and she pulled away. "But right now, I have an expedition to tally, supplies to list, and a Colonel to placate since his supposed second-in-command appears to be missing."

"Your own fault," he informed her, propping up on one arm to leer at her as she dressed. "You did insist on checking me out."

"All on my own."

"Yup." He moved and groped her ass again. "You sure you have to get dressed?"

For just a moment, she considered the possibilities. Then she sighed and swatted his hand away. "Yes, Major, I do. And so should you before Rodney suggests they turn on the detector and find you in here."

"Afraid me in your quarters would start rumors?"

"Aren't you?" she countered, buttoning her pants.

He slowly sat up, watching her, "Not really, no."

"You're male, John."

"I'm pretty sure you've noticed." He leered.

"What immediately springs to mind when you hear that the boss is sleeping with her subordinate?" Bra, shirt--not the one she wore yesterday, but a different one. And she was running out of shirts again, time to send a load to the Athosians for laundering.

"That she--" He stopped, and looked at her, frowning, "Elizabeth, no one is going to think that of you."

Stepping into her boots gave her a moment where she didn't have to look at him. "But you did. For a moment."

"Yeah, but--it's you. Not some faceless executive."

"And that makes it better?" Her eyebrows went up and then she bent to fasten the zippers on her boots.

Still naked, he stood and caught her by the shoulders. "Elizabeth. The people here trust you with their lives. They're not going to change that trust simply because you're having sex."

"You think not?"

"I do."

She met his eyes for a moment, then shook her head, "I'm sorry, John. I can't take that risk. Especially not now."

"So what are you saying? We're through?"

"No. I'm saying there's still nothing public. No one needs to know."

"I don't like sneaking around."

"Think of it as a game," the words were almost pleading.

"I'm not a game, Elizabeth."

"I know," she said softly as she headed for the door. "But it's all we have, for now, John."

She was out the door, mask slipping into place, before he could follow her. If he did. Elizabeth Weir didn't have time to stop and check.