Title: Things to Do In Atlantis When You're Drunk Author: A.j. Rating: NC-17, for the cautious. Spoilers: Um. That they exist and made it to OMG! Atlantis! Warning: This has sex. Sex written while I was slightly drunk and not all together awake. So if it's crap? Er. Sorry. Don't read it again? Fault: Little Red's and Claira. Because the first was all "WRITE!" and the second didn't. Challenge: John/Lizzie, "You'd have to get me drunk first." Summary: They are never going to learn. *** It had all started out so innocently. Okay, not innocently. Nothing John ever talked her into seemed to be innocent in any way, shape or form. Including fishing. This had been no exception. He'd somehow convinced her that she wanted to help him skin Zelenka's desert rations through nefarious purposes (spades) and split the ill-gotten gains. Apparently, the good doctor had been the mastermind behind a rather involved prank that ended up with John floating in zero-g for almost a week. Which had been really, really funny. Not that she'd ever admit that, even under pain of death. Unfortunately, they'd either overestimated their own abilities, or completely underestimated Zelenka's. The Czech doctor had managed to score their combined privileges for a month before she'd given up and ripped everyone off. If there was one thing she'd learned over the course of an international career in diplomacy, it was how to cheat like hell and not get caught. Liz is fairly sure that's why she and John get on so well. Afterwards, they'd celebrated in the mess with a pudding cup - chocolate for her, rice for him - and had somehow gotten on the topic of weirdest places they'd ever had sex. Had this been six months previous, when they were both still settling into their weird, leadership-driven symbiotic friendship thing, she would never have considered even participating in that type of conversation. But it was six months later. She'd seen him naked (if bruised and bloody), and he'd had to feed her ice chips in the infirmary. Twice. So, it really hadn't really seemed that weird. "...and then her foot hit the flaps-" "No!" "Yes! The damn thing started rolling in the garage." "Oh, god. How much trouble did you get in?" He laughed and continued balancing a spoon on his index finger. The crowd was rather light as dinner wasn't on for another few hours, so he'd swiped a whole table setting from a neighboring table. After a rather strange (and entirely not their fault) incident the staff had taken to keeping 'their' table cleared at all times. To the point that O'Dool was giving them worried glances over the refrigeration units. "Oh, it wasn't that bad." He took a sip of his coffee, and then grinned down into it. "My colonel was impressed that I'd managed to sneak Rosa past the MP's. It's one of the reasons he eventually recommended me for. Um. Other stuff." "You got a promotion because you caused an Apache Helicopter to coast around a garage while you were having sex with your girlfriend in the pilot's seat?" She stared. He grinned. She grinned back and bumped his fist with hers. "Good job, soldier." "Thank you, ma'am. Soooo?" Liz leaned back in her chair and contemplated the shiny crystals embedded in the wall above his head. She really couldn't top multi-thousand dollar property damage but... "Nineteen. Sophomore in college. Joey Castrelli. My English professor's desk fifteen minutes before he was due to come in and prepare the class final." His laughter was sharp and amused in the closed space. "No way. Were there windows?" "Tons. It faced the south side of the building. And it was on the first floor. The whole time, I was terrified someone was going to catch us." She sighed and sipped her nearly cold tea, letting her eyes get a bit hazy. "It was all Joey's idea. I only went along with it because... damn. The things that boy could do with his tongue." "Oh, don't tell me you haven't had naked wet fantasies about doing it on the balcony during a duty shift." John's eyes were wide, as if sincerely surprised. "Um, no." She really hadn't. Because if there was one thing in this life she wanted to prevent, it was having McKay see her naked. Again. God, her life was weird. "You mean *never*?" "You are a strange, strange man." She drained the last of her tea and set the cup aside. He was still staring at her, dumbfounded. "Oh, whatever," he snorted. "All guys think about screwing someone in public at least once. More if they can get away with it." "And you came by this knowledge... how?" "Locker room talk. It's the ultimate exercise in dominance or something. Proving to the world that you are a sexual being and that you can make a girl scream for God." "Uh-huh." "So. NEVER?" He leaned forward, curious. She leaned forward, her entire posture broad casting 'dare'. "You'd have to get me drunk first." "Is that an offer?" "With what alcohol, smartass?" And then he grinned. Evilly. And oh, had she been in so much trouble. *** Three hours later, how much trouble she was or wasn't in didn't matter. Three hours later, he had his five o'clock shadow doing rather wonderful things to the skin of her stomach. They hadn't actually ended up on the balcony, but that was mostly because they were too blitzed to make it out of his quarters. Which was really fine with her because... oh, god. *Oh, godohgodohgod* his tongue was better than Joey's had ever been. Almost better than Elizondo. Good, good, *good* tongue. And face. And cheeks. And fingers. Still. Even as completely strung-out as she was on homemade (she thinks) moonshine and what John was doing, her brain kept asking those pesky, evil questions. 'Is it worth it? Will this be worth it? How the hell did you end up on your back with a pillow under your ass and your head nearly smacking bathroom door?' And then her brain stopped caring because his nose was right where it needed to be and his cheeks were all stubbly on her thighs and the lights just went boom in their casings and she just. Couldn't. See. Until she opened her eyes - hey, interesting trick - and found him grinning down at her, fingers still busy at her sides and on her breasts and then back to her thighs. And his mouth was just right... there. *** So. She really hadn't *meant* for this to happen. It - like much of the stuff they ended up doing off duty, come to think - had snowballed into her staring at his ceiling and listening to him snore in the early dawn hours. Well, shit. She couldn't exactly leave. Doing that would be a crappy thing to do. It was still *John*. And he was still the person he'd always been, even if they'd just... done what they'd done. And oh, had they. He was her friend and, like it or not, they had to deal with this new and very different situation. Together. She had been attracted to him for awhile. That much had become clear fairly early on. But they'd had other things to think about besides sex. Most of them involving keeping the city afloat, be it emotionally or literally. They had too much riding on their ability to work together and problem solve to screw it up by humping like mad teenagers. They were *friends* because they had to be. It just helped that they actually liked each other. Well. At least she knew he thought she was hot too. And that made the girly bits of her way too happy. She shifted her feet around, trying not to shiver as she rubbed against the haired male thigh next to her, and wincing at the pull in the muscles of her thighs. Oh, yeah. Definitely needed to get up and stretch pretty soon. That involved moving. And potentially waking John. Arg. Huh. Wait. She could have sworn he'd been sleeping on that hand. But. Nope. There it was. Petting her stomach. "Morning." His breath was warm on her shoulder, his hand heavy and good despite the emotional freak-out she was edging along. It felt better than it should. Which, while nice, wasn't overly helpful. "Morning." Her voice was hoarse, and she found herself turning slightly red. Oh, yeah. That had gotten a work out too. "Um. So." "So. You okay?" "Yeah. You?" She felt his smile before she heard the amusement in his voice. "A bit sore, but otherwise damn good." And she had to smile at that too. Even if it wasn't an entirely happy one. "We... This is going to make things weird, isn't it?" He was quiet for a moment. She appreciated that. More because she knew him. Knew that it was easier for him to make a wisecrack and think things over later. Knew that he did care enough about her to take a moment. That knowledge warmed more than his comfortable - don'tthinkaboutthat - presence by her side. "Not if we don't let it." And she knew he was right. They were quiet for a bit. Both lost in... something. Their thoughts. Hangover. Whatever. She let herself drift a bit, savoring the heat at her side and the rather interesting design above her. "You know." Huh. He had way prettier ceilings than she did. Who knew? She blinked. Wait. He was saying something. "We could. Do this again?" Blink. Oh. Not what she'd expected at *all*. "Have sex?" "Maybe when we're sober even?" She fought a short and rather silly war with the sheet so that she could face him. He looked... the same as he always did. Annoying, smirking, and strangely sincere. Liz could have handled the first two. Had done several times in the last few months. But it was just *him*. The guy who was slowly becoming one of the best friends she'd ever had. And... he did give really good oral sex. THAT much she remembered. Ooo. Yeah. Definitely remembered. The evil anticipatory smirk that made its way across her features probably told him everything he wanted to know. That was the only plausible explanation for him inching closer and breathing his nasty morning breath all over her face. And her not minding. Because. Ooo. Fingers. Mmm. Good memory. "Lizzie..." Oh, good. His stinky breath was now moving down her collarbone. Lips too. Yep. They definitely went with. Oh. Oh, tongue again. Evil, evil man. "How-," she gasped. "How many times have I told you not to call me that!" The last bit came out as a squeak and then he was over her again and fit just *right* there and guuuuuh. That should |NOT| feel that good after last night. "More than I'm willing to admit." His words vibrated against her neck as he started to move against her lower body. "But it's just so you when you're with me." She would have said something if she wasn't so busy mewling like a baby kitten. Not fair. Not fair! "So open and funny and good." His hips emphasize each of his words, just rocking. His pubic hair doing fantastical things to her nerve endings, and tongue on her neck, and hands... Oh, wait. She had hands too, didn't she? And then he's calling her 'Lizzie' again. Dammit. Well. More yelling. And that's kind of okay. Heh. -fin-