Title: Fall
Author: A.j.
Rating: Not Correct for those under 17.
Notes: John/Liz porn!  W00t!

Summary: Them.  This.

***

Her skin is tacky with sweat and sex. His hands don't so much glide up and 
down her skin as push, the friction of his gun calluses making her gasp and 
mew in the sexiest of ways. He'll never admit it outloud, but he likes to 
listen to her beg. It's thrilling, knowing that he can make calm, collected 
Elizabeth Weir pant and scream and cry for God.

It takes a lot to crack that control. He's listened to her face down death 
several times. He suspects she doesn't even flinch. John likes it that he can 
do this to her. It makes him feel big and strong and male, and he should 
regret that or something. Try and be a Man of the New Generation. And he is 
one for her everywhere but here.

Here, he can look down and watch her come apart on his fingers and tongue and 
cock, and let himself feel joy. Pride. |He| did this to her. She is screaming 
|his| name. She is staring at |him| with her body flushed with heat from head 
to toe. Panting and writhing under and over and around and beside him.

He appreciates other things about her. Her brilliance and ability to 
manipulate any and everyone around her - including him. That she is freaked 
out by raw chicken, but can calmly stomp and clean up a hundred different 
types of vermin and bug. The way she looks at him when she finds out, 
|again|, that he's not dead.

But this is what he loves best about her. That she can stare up at him and, 
half-delirious with orgasm and need, meet his eyes. Eyes locked, bodies still 
in motion, she gives as hard as he does.

And just before he comes, his body deep inside hers, he sees her smile just 
like |that|. And he's gone because in that tiny, tiny instant he's broken. 
And she's there to catch him.

-fin-