Elizabeth Weir/John Sheppard Appreciation/Ship/Discussion Thread

[ShipperWriter]

Favorite drinks? Hmm, I think a glass of wine for Elizabeth; if we're going for mixed drinks, I'd say a whiskey sour. She's old school and not gonna go for trendy crap like cosmopolitans.

John? Beer, baby. Maybe a little Lagavulin, favored by JoeF.

Okay. Sounds right!

Woot!

Oh, and as for cookie flavors, I'm thinking chocolate chip for Elizabeth. Fresh out of the oven, so that the chips are all warm and gooey. It's John's favorite too. Why? Because when the chips are that gooey, they tend to melt all over your chin when you take a bite, and well, prime opportunity for John to help Elizabeth wipe up the chocolate.

Yeah, you just knew this was going to the gutter...

GUTTER!!! *splashes*

Yeah, that lil drabble I post spoilered is a little guttery for me. But I blame the beer.

NOW I have notions for a "hot gooey chocolate chip Sparky" fic ... hee hee hee!

3 left!

[Scary Kitty]

Okay, SK, this is for you. Well, for everyone, but mostly for SK.

A drabble. Titled, "Randomnimity."

Spoiler:

“Randomnimity.”

Elizabeth Weir looked up from her desk to the tall handsome -- mental smack -- lieutenant colonel that just appeared out of nowhere. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, leaning against the frame of the door that rarely closed anymore.

“What?” she asked for clarification, a bemused expression on her soft face.

John Sheppard awkwardly pushed himself off the frame and took a seat, not in the chair, but on the corner of her desk. “Randomnimity,” he said again, quite simply, looking as though it was the most natural word in the world.

“Must be Ancient. I’m not familiar with it.” The glint in her eyes shone almost as brightly as it did in his.

He shrugged. “It basically means doing something completely out of the blue, acting like it never happened, then repeating it multiple times. But giving it a slightly different twist each time. So you’re not actually repeating it, it’s randomly happening again and again and again.”

Elizabeth looked at him, noticing the looseness in his smile, then sighed, closing the lid on her computer. “John. Have you been drinking?”

“Eeh. Maybe one or two. Or five, I lost count.”

She groaned. “John, I hardly think this is the appropriate time for that.”

“Oh, c’mon, ‘Lizbeth!”

She thanked God she was sitting; the slur of her name made her knees turn into water. Her legs were slightly quaking under the desk.

“I hafta show you what exactly randomnimity means, then I’ll let you finish your game of Solitaire.”

She moaned in frustration, then in surprise as John pressed his lips to his.

In her office.

With all the windows open.

For everyone to see.

A quick dart of her eyes confirmed that no one was in direct visual range, then her eyes drifted shut as John moaned, deepening the kiss for only a moment before releasing her lips.

She licked her lip, suddenly and acutely aware of the presence that his mouth left on her.

John smirked, looking very proud of himself. “There. Randomnimity.”

From her seat, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “Meet me in my quarters. Fifteen minutes, Colonel.”

He left her office, crap-eating grin still on his face as he threw a very casual “Yes ma’am” over his shoulder.

-----------------------------------------------------

John stood at the entrance to Elizabeth’s quarters, self-consciously tugging at the front of his black button shirt. Why did I change? he queried himself. She’s probably gonna give me hell for that one.

He ran his hand over the sensor.

“Come in.”

John narrowed his eyes. She didn’t sound irate.

He entered.

Elizabeth stood in front of him, arms crossed as the doors slid shut behind the slightly nervous colonel. She was wearing that pale tank top that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. He chided himself.

What? I missed it!

“Colonel, you do realize that your recent actions in my office might draw some undue attention to yourself, causing personnel to doubt your capacity as the ranking military leader of this city?” she mildly questioned him as she walked behind him. He heard something chime but didn’t pay it any attention, trying to wrap his mind around what Elizabeth was saying.

Oh crap. I’m not getting out of this.

He straightened. “Maybe not at the moment I did it. But I’m starting to realize it now. I apologize,” he said quietly, bowing his head, almost anticipating her pulling out a ruler and rapping his knuckles.

What he didn’t expect was to see Elizabeth’s tank top suddenly appear on the floor in front of him.

He looked up quickly at her, barely bracing himself as she grabbed his neck, returning the earlier kiss full force.

His brain immediately ceased functioning.

Elizabeth pulled back just slightly, a devious smile on her face. “I know you weren’t really drunk, John.”

“Ya sure? Cause it feels like I am,” he drawled.

“If you were, despite your MENSA brain level, I doubt you could’ve correctly pronounced randomnimity four times straight,” she told him, eyes searching his as he blinked in realization.

“You were paying attention, Dr. Weir,” he sarcastically commended her.

She smiled, almost shyly, before continuing. “So you said the definition of randomnimity was repeating an action multiple times with different variants?”

“Uh-huh?”

She began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Let’s test this, shall we?”

He groaned. “Yes, ma’am!”

Fin.

4 posts left ...

OMFG. Oh, that is AWESOME!!!! *squees and runs around the room* Lizzeh's so right, there's no way he could've been drunk if he correctly pronounced it four times. John, you sneak! Heehee!

Okay. Sounds right!

You betcha!

GUTTER!!! *splashes*

Yeah, that lil drabble I post spoilered is a little guttery for me. But I blame the beer.

Muahahahah!

NOW I have notions for a "hot gooey chocolate chip Sparky" fic ... hee hee hee!

3 left!

Doooo iiiiiitttt! You know you want to! Hahahahah!!! I so love being an enabler...

[mandogater]

Okay, SK, this is for you. Well, for everyone, but mostly for SK.

A drabble. Titled, "Randomnimity."

Spoiler:

“Randomnimity.”

Elizabeth Weir looked up from her desk to the tall handsome -- mental smack -- lieutenant colonel that just appeared out of nowhere. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, leaning against the frame of the door that rarely closed anymore.

“What?” she asked for clarification, a bemused expression on her soft face.

John Sheppard awkwardly pushed himself off the frame and took a seat, not in the chair, but on the corner of her desk. “Randomnimity,” he said again, quite simply, looking as though it was the most natural word in the world.

“Must be Ancient. I’m not familiar with it.” The glint in her eyes shone almost as brightly as it did in his.

He shrugged. “It basically means doing something completely out of the blue, acting like it never happened, then repeating it multiple times. But giving it a slightly different twist each time. So you’re not actually repeating it, it’s randomly happening again and again and again.”

Elizabeth looked at him, noticing the looseness in his smile, then sighed, closing the lid on her computer. “John. Have you been drinking?”

“Eeh. Maybe one or two. Or five, I lost count.”

She groaned. “John, I hardly think this is the appropriate time for that.”

“Oh, c’mon, ‘Lizbeth!”

She thanked God she was sitting; the slur of her name made her knees turn into water. Her legs were slightly quaking under the desk.

“I hafta show you what exactly randomnimity means, then I’ll let you finish your game of Solitaire.”

She moaned in frustration, then in surprise as John pressed his lips to his.

In her office.

With all the windows open.

For everyone to see.

A quick dart of her eyes confirmed that no one was in direct visual range, then her eyes drifted shut as John moaned, deepening the kiss for only a moment before releasing her lips.

She licked her lip, suddenly and acutely aware of the presence that his mouth left on her.

John smirked, looking very proud of himself. “There. Randomnimity.”

From her seat, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “Meet me in my quarters. Fifteen minutes, Colonel.”

He left her office, crap-eating grin still on his face as he threw a very casual “Yes ma’am” over his shoulder.

-----------------------------------------------------

John stood at the entrance to Elizabeth’s quarters, self-consciously tugging at the front of his black button shirt. Why did I change? he queried himself. She’s probably gonna give me hell for that one.

He ran his hand over the sensor.

“Come in.”

John narrowed his eyes. She didn’t sound irate.

He entered.

Elizabeth stood in front of him, arms crossed as the doors slid shut behind the slightly nervous colonel. She was wearing that pale tank top that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. He chided himself.

What? I missed it!

“Colonel, you do realize that your recent actions in my office might draw some undue attention to yourself, causing personnel to doubt your capacity as the ranking military leader of this city?” she mildly questioned him as she walked behind him. He heard something chime but didn’t pay it any attention, trying to wrap his mind around what Elizabeth was saying.

Oh crap. I’m not getting out of this.

He straightened. “Maybe not at the moment I did it. But I’m starting to realize it now. I apologize,” he said quietly, bowing his head, almost anticipating her pulling out a ruler and rapping his knuckles.

What he didn’t expect was to see Elizabeth’s tank top suddenly appear on the floor in front of him.

He looked up quickly at her, barely bracing himself as she grabbed his neck, returning the earlier kiss full force.

His brain immediately ceased functioning.

Elizabeth pulled back just slightly, a devious smile on her face. “I know you weren’t really drunk, John.”

“Ya sure? Cause it feels like I am,” he drawled.

“If you were, despite your MENSA brain level, I doubt you could’ve correctly pronounced randomnimity four times straight,” she told him, eyes searching his as he blinked in realization.

“You were paying attention, Dr. Weir,” he sarcastically commended her.

She smiled, almost shyly, before continuing. “So you said the definition of randomnimity was repeating an action multiple times with different variants?”

“Uh-huh?”

She began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Let’s test this, shall we?”

He groaned. “Yes, ma’am!”

Fin.

4 posts left ...

Wonderful job!

[ShipperWriter]

OMFG. Oh, that is AWESOME!!!! *squees and runs around the room* Lizzeh's so right, there's no way he could've been drunk if he correctly pronounced it four times. John, you sneak! Heehee!

THANK YOU!!! I had a feeling you'd like it ... Don't know why ...

You betcha!

Muahahahah!

Doooo iiiiiitttt! You know you want to! Hahahahah!!! I so love being an enabler...

It was born shortly after the last post but my internet blitzed out again. Check the next post ... Heh!

Wonderful job!

Thank you!

How many posts left? 2, huh?

[ShipperWriter]

Ladies and gentlemen, due to the encouragement from SK and the Miller I drunk in under 15 minutes, I give you "Taste Test". Cookie!crack!fic!

Enjoy! Gotta go to work, be back later. I'll post on FF.net when I get the chance, along with "Randomnimity".

SK, you're horrible. Thanks for being my enabler!!!

Spoiler:

“So. Nestle Tollhouse or Pillsbury?”

Elizabeth strode up to John’s side on the dairy aisle of the small grocery store they stopped in at for lunch. Of course, John’s first stop had been at the deli counter for a freshly made turkey sub, which left him grinning like a little boy.

She had just chuckled and continued shopping, picking up some items for their vacation.

She cocked her head. “I don’t know. Why not get both and we’ll decide for ourselves?”

John almost whined. “Seriously? Between the beer, the wine, the cheese, the sandwiches … I think we’re gonna be too fat to waddle back to the airport.”

Straight faced, she replied, “Then we’ll just have Daedalus beam us back.” She pulled both packages off the shelf and thrust them in front of his face. “So?”

His face scrunched in thought. “Get the bite sized cookies.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The grocery store was a short drive from the beach front hotel that they were calling home for a weekend. John pulled the rental car into the space, then took a deep breath when he opened the door on the Ford Fusion and stepped out.

His nose wrinkled.

“Not the same, is it?” Elizabeth observed, picking the groceries up from the floor of the back seat.

“Eeh, not really.”

“But I get to wear less here than I do on Atlantis,” she reminded him in a whisper, close enough to his ear that he could smell the light lotion she’d applied after getting off the plane.

John grinned. “Well, there’s that.”

He extended his arms and grabbed two of the bags, shutting the door behind him with his hip, allowing Elizabeth first entry into the elevator.

They’d arrived the day before, and spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with each other. The sun set just a few moments after they walked out to the perfectly sandy beaches, Elizabeth sporting a red tankini with a skirt wrapped around her slim hips. He stood protectively behind her, blue flower print swim trunks and one of his black shirts. She insisted that he bring at least one on vacation with him.

He grinned and happily obliged.

They had stood watching the sunset, her arms wound closely around his as they circled her waist. The moment they saw the flash and the sun disappearing, John kissed the side of her neck, whispering “I love you” into her hair.

They quickly moved their PDA back inside and emerged later the next day, realizing they had almost no supplies.

Ergo, the shopping trip.

John glanced at the receipt as he put the paper bags on the counter. “Ya think we can write this off?”

Elizabeth’s head jerked up suddenly, hands pausing in midair as she removed the cold items. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Yeah. Well, mostly.” He cocked his head to the side as Elizabeth shot him a weary smile.

He looked under the oven and found a baking pan. “Awesome,” he whispered. “Okay. Pillsbury on one side. Tollhouse on the other. Blind taste test, administered by me.”

“Am I the sole participant?” she asked innocently.

“Unless Rodney pops in, yeah, just you.”

That earned a glare.

“Hey,” he protested, raising his hands, “you’re the one who suggested it.”

After a moment, she nodded. “True. I suppose I brought it on myself.”

He only shook his head as he washed his hands, then opened the packages of cookie dough. She eyed them cautiously.

“Hey! No cheating,” he warned her, waving an annoyed hand at her. A small piece of raw cookie dough was trapped in between his fingers.

She smiled, rather evilly at him, and John raised his eyebrows. The last time he saw that look, Thalen had been trying to kill him.

“Uh, ‘Lizbeth? Whatcha doin’?”

She grasped his wrist, holding his hand still, and wrapped her mouth around the finger and thumb, wrestling the dough loose with her tongue.

When she stepped back, chewing the raw cookie, John was standing perfectly still, staring at her in utter shock. “That … may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Not to mention unhealthy.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Just finish up the cookies, flyboy.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the timer went off, Elizabeth took a seat at the bar in front of the sink.

“Okay, here we go,” John announced, pulling the cookie sheet out of the oven with the oven mitts. He silently thanked the housekeeping staff for covering all the bases.

“How do you remember which side is which?” Elizabeth asked him, peering over his shoulder.

“Not telling,” John caught on quickly.

She pouted.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Keep on task, John,” she reprimanded him, gaze moving from oven to butt. Which looked oh so good in those jeans, bent over the oven door.

She grinned and quickly hid it as he turned around, settling the hot pan on the glass top stove. Grabbing a spatula, he moved two cookies from each side to a plate, placing them on clearly separate sides. “Okay, hot and fresh and gooey. You wanna wait a minute, or burn your tongue?”

“Wait til they’re warm.”

“Milk?”

“With cookies? Of course.”

He poured them each a cup and by the time that he put it back in the fridge, the cookies didn’t seem quite as hot. Still warm, but not scalding.

John walked around the bar and placed the plate in front of Elizabeth, sitting on the stool next to her. “Pick where to start.”

She pointed to the right hand side of the plate. “Those.”

John picked up the warm cookie, looked it over, and once he nodded in approval, gently inserted it partway into her mouth. She took a bite as he withdrew the leftover piece and began eating it himself.

They both finished chewing, then he glanced between her and the plate. “So, what do you think?”

“Good,” she replied simply, taking a sip of milk to help wash the flavor out before sampling the next one.

John leaned over, getting the cookie on the other side of the plate, and did the same, only this time when he pulled the cookie back, the chocolate dribbled on her lips a little.

He laughed, then quickly grabbed Elizabeth’s hands as she reached for a paper towel. “Uh uh. Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t gotten to try any yet,” he hastily replied, lips and tongue fastening on hers, kissing her while slowly licking all the chocolate off her mouth. His tongue darted inside her slightly parted lips, tracing her own tongue for any leftover remains of the gooey warm morsel that she had just eaten.

When he pulled back with a bit of a loud pop, she sat there, almost stunned. Her mouth was agape as John picked up the other cookie, grinning at Elizabeth as he started munching on it. “So?”

“I think … that was the best one,” she decided with a strong nod. “Definitely.”

“Good,” he replied, picking up the plate and standing to load the other cookies on the plate.

Slowly, she stood, moving around the kitchen to press her front against his back. “Which cookie was that one?”

“Which one?”

“That one,” she told him, pointing to the left side of the plate with her finger as she rested her chin on his strong shoulder.

“Not telling.”

“John!”

“What are you gonna do, ‘Lizbeth?” he asked, turning around in her grasp to face her. “Hmm?”

“I -- uh -- mmph,” was the only reply she could give before his lips locked on hers again, wrapping his hands and arms around her small back, pulling her to him as tightly as possible. The start of the kiss consisted of searching for any cookie remnants, inside, outside, their mouths.

When Elizabeth pulled back to breath, in a strained voice, she commanded, “Bedroom.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John replied, nuzzling her neck, kissing from her hairline down to where the tankini started. And then some. She moaned; he knew it turned her on when he would call her ma’am outside of the normal work constraints. Like how calling him “Colonel” could reduce him to sticky rubble.

“And bring the cookies!”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Laid out under a sheet on the queen size bed, John lifted his head, picking up a single cookie from the plate, waving it in front of Elizabeth’s nose, trying to rouse her. She had drifted off shortly after he made love to her, continuously repeating “I love you” in her ears.

She wrinkled her nose where her head lay, atop John’s chest just below his shoulder. She looked so peaceful, so tranquil, something that the city leader rarely seemed given all the chaos happening on Atlantis on any given time.

“Smells good,” she whispered.

John put the cookie in his mouth, then picked up another one. “You want one?”

She nodded. As she propped herself up on her left elbow to accept it, she regarded John thoughtfully. “You know, you never did tell me which kind that was.”

“Hmm?” he asked, cookie still in his mouth.

“Pillsbury or Tollhouse?”

“Which one do you think it was?” he asked, smirking at her.

She watched his face for another moment. “Both.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

I knew it.

“They were too tall for a single cookie,” she informed him, allowing defeat to sink in. “So either way, you would’ve won.”

“’Won’? We never discussed what the winner would get!”

She tilted her head. “You get to spend the weekend with your wife. What else could you ask for?”

He shrugged on the bed. “My turkey sandwich.”

Their laughter echoed back into the kitchen where the discarded cookie dough wrappers lay in the trash.

Fin.

[ShipperWriter]

... Well, almost.

500 POSTS!!! WAHOO!!!

[Scary Kitty]

Good morning, Sparkies! Happy Fluffy Thursday!

THANK YOU!!! I had a feeling you'd like it ... Don't know why ...

Heehee!

It was born shortly after the last post but my internet blitzed out again. Check the next post ... Heh!

Gack! I hate it when the internetz jerks me around!

Ladies and gentlemen, due to the encouragement from SK and the Miller I drunk in under 15 minutes, I give you "Taste Test". Cookie!crack!fic!

Enjoy! Gotta go to work, be back later. I'll post on FF.net when I get the chance, along with "Randomnimity".

SK, you're horrible. Thanks for being my enabler!!!

Spoiler:

“So. Nestle Tollhouse or Pillsbury?”

Elizabeth strode up to John’s side on the dairy aisle of the small grocery store they stopped in at for lunch. Of course, John’s first stop had been at the deli counter for a freshly made turkey sub, which left him grinning like a little boy.

She had just chuckled and continued shopping, picking up some items for their vacation.

She cocked her head. “I don’t know. Why not get both and we’ll decide for ourselves?”

John almost whined. “Seriously? Between the beer, the wine, the cheese, the sandwiches … I think we’re gonna be too fat to waddle back to the airport.”

Straight faced, she replied, “Then we’ll just have Daedalus beam us back.” She pulled both packages off the shelf and thrust them in front of his face. “So?”

His face scrunched in thought. “Get the bite sized cookies.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The grocery store was a short drive from the beach front hotel that they were calling home for a weekend. John pulled the rental car into the space, then took a deep breath when he opened the door on the Ford Fusion and stepped out.

His nose wrinkled.

“Not the same, is it?” Elizabeth observed, picking the groceries up from the floor of the back seat.

“Eeh, not really.”

“But I get to wear less here than I do on Atlantis,” she reminded him in a whisper, close enough to his ear that he could smell the light lotion she’d applied after getting off the plane.

John grinned. “Well, there’s that.”

He extended his arms and grabbed two of the bags, shutting the door behind him with his hip, allowing Elizabeth first entry into the elevator.

They’d arrived the day before, and spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with each other. The sun set just a few moments after they walked out to the perfectly sandy beaches, Elizabeth sporting a red tankini with a skirt wrapped around her slim hips. He stood protectively behind her, blue flower print swim trunks and one of his black shirts. She insisted that he bring at least one on vacation with him.

He grinned and happily obliged.

They had stood watching the sunset, her arms wound closely around his as they circled her waist. The moment they saw the flash and the sun disappearing, John kissed the side of her neck, whispering “I love you” into her hair.

They quickly moved their PDA back inside and emerged later the next day, realizing they had almost no supplies.

Ergo, the shopping trip.

John glanced at the receipt as he put the paper bags on the counter. “Ya think we can write this off?”

Elizabeth’s head jerked up suddenly, hands pausing in midair as she removed the cold items. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Yeah. Well, mostly.” He cocked his head to the side as Elizabeth shot him a weary smile.

He looked under the oven and found a baking pan. “Awesome,” he whispered. “Okay. Pillsbury on one side. Tollhouse on the other. Blind taste test, administered by me.”

“Am I the sole participant?” she asked innocently.

“Unless Rodney pops in, yeah, just you.”

That earned a glare.

“Hey,” he protested, raising his hands, “you’re the one who suggested it.”

After a moment, she nodded. “True. I suppose I brought it on myself.”

He only shook his head as he washed his hands, then opened the packages of cookie dough. She eyed them cautiously.

“Hey! No cheating,” he warned her, waving an annoyed hand at her. A small piece of raw cookie dough was trapped in between his fingers.

She smiled, rather evilly at him, and John raised his eyebrows. The last time he saw that look, Thalen had been trying to kill him.

“Uh, ‘Lizbeth? Whatcha doin’?”

She grasped his wrist, holding his hand still, and wrapped her mouth around the finger and thumb, wrestling the dough loose with her tongue.

When she stepped back, chewing the raw cookie, John was standing perfectly still, staring at her in utter shock. “That … may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Not to mention unhealthy.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Just finish up the cookies, flyboy.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the timer went off, Elizabeth took a seat at the bar in front of the sink.

“Okay, here we go,” John announced, pulling the cookie sheet out of the oven with the oven mitts. He silently thanked the housekeeping staff for covering all the bases.

“How do you remember which side is which?” Elizabeth asked him, peering over his shoulder.

“Not telling,” John caught on quickly.

She pouted.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Keep on task, John,” she reprimanded him, gaze moving from oven to butt. Which looked oh so good in those jeans, bent over the oven door.

She grinned and quickly hid it as he turned around, settling the hot pan on the glass top stove. Grabbing a spatula, he moved two cookies from each side to a plate, placing them on clearly separate sides. “Okay, hot and fresh and gooey. You wanna wait a minute, or burn your tongue?”

“Wait til they’re warm.”

“Milk?”

“With cookies? Of course.”

He poured them each a cup and by the time that he put it back in the fridge, the cookies didn’t seem quite as hot. Still warm, but not scalding.

John walked around the bar and placed the plate in front of Elizabeth, sitting on the stool next to her. “Pick where to start.”

She pointed to the right hand side of the plate. “Those.”

John picked up the warm cookie, looked it over, and once he nodded in approval, gently inserted it partway into her mouth. She took a bite as he withdrew the leftover piece and began eating it himself.

They both finished chewing, then he glanced between her and the plate. “So, what do you think?”

“Good,” she replied simply, taking a sip of milk to help wash the flavor out before sampling the next one.

John leaned over, getting the cookie on the other side of the plate, and did the same, only this time when he pulled the cookie back, the chocolate dribbled on her lips a little.

He laughed, then quickly grabbed Elizabeth’s hands as she reached for a paper towel. “Uh uh. Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t gotten to try any yet,” he hastily replied, lips and tongue fastening on hers, kissing her while slowly licking all the chocolate off her mouth. His tongue darted inside her slightly parted lips, tracing her own tongue for any leftover remains of the gooey warm morsel that she had just eaten.

When he pulled back with a bit of a loud pop, she sat there, almost stunned. Her mouth was agape as John picked up the other cookie, grinning at Elizabeth as he started munching on it. “So?”

“I think … that was the best one,” she decided with a strong nod. “Definitely.”

“Good,” he replied, picking up the plate and standing to load the other cookies on the plate.

Slowly, she stood, moving around the kitchen to press her front against his back. “Which cookie was that one?”

“Which one?”

“That one,” she told him, pointing to the left side of the plate with her finger as she rested her chin on his strong shoulder.

“Not telling.”

“John!”

“What are you gonna do, ‘Lizbeth?” he asked, turning around in her grasp to face her. “Hmm?”

“I -- uh -- mmph,” was the only reply she could give before his lips locked on hers again, wrapping his hands and arms around her small back, pulling her to him as tightly as possible. The start of the kiss consisted of searching for any cookie remnants, inside, outside, their mouths.

When Elizabeth pulled back to breath, in a strained voice, she commanded, “Bedroom.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John replied, nuzzling her neck, kissing from her hairline down to where the tankini started. And then some. She moaned; he knew it turned her on when he would call her ma’am outside of the normal work constraints. Like how calling him “Colonel” could reduce him to sticky rubble.

“And bring the cookies!”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Laid out under a sheet on the queen size bed, John lifted his head, picking up a single cookie from the plate, waving it in front of Elizabeth’s nose, trying to rouse her. She had drifted off shortly after he made love to her, continuously repeating “I love you” in her ears.

She wrinkled her nose where her head lay, atop John’s chest just below his shoulder. She looked so peaceful, so tranquil, something that the city leader rarely seemed given all the chaos happening on Atlantis on any given time.

“Smells good,” she whispered.

John put the cookie in his mouth, then picked up another one. “You want one?”

She nodded. As she propped herself up on her left elbow to accept it, she regarded John thoughtfully. “You know, you never did tell me which kind that was.”

“Hmm?” he asked, cookie still in his mouth.

“Pillsbury or Tollhouse?”

“Which one do you think it was?” he asked, smirking at her.

She watched his face for another moment. “Both.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

I knew it.

“They were too tall for a single cookie,” she informed him, allowing defeat to sink in. “So either way, you would’ve won.”

“’Won’? We never discussed what the winner would get!”

She tilted her head. “You get to spend the weekend with me. What else could you ask for?”

“My turkey sandwich.”

Their laughter echoed back into the kitchen where the discarded cookie dough wrappers lay in the trash.

Fin.

*THUD*

Oh. My. God! That was so hot! *fans self* The banter was adorkable, the imagery was delicious... And John mixed the cookie dough together? I totally didn't expect that! Though I really should have, because, well, he's a sneak. That's a fantastic fic!

... Well, almost.

500 POSTS!!! WAHOO!!!

WHOO HOO!!!! Hooray for 500 posts!

Pretty soon, you'll be at 1000!

[Scary Kitty]

And for your amusement...

Spoiler:

: At last! ShipperWriter's reached 500 posts!
: I really liked that last story with the cookies...
Caldwell: Why doesn't she write stories like that for me?
: *chug*
: I think I need something stronger than champagne before I answer that...
: Indeed. *sips*

Yeah, clearly I'm no gateraid when it comes to devising funny caps...

[Probie]

Congratulations Shipperwriter. Can I call you "Shippy"? I hope you don't speak french because you can be mad.lol

[Scary Kitty]

Congratulations Shipperwriter. Can I call you "Shippy"? I hope you don't speak french because you can be mad.lol

Hee!

[ShipperWriter]

Good morning, Sparkies! Happy Fluffy Thursday!

Heehee!

Gack! I hate it when the internetz jerks me around!

*Shippy gets her spork out*

*THUD*

Oh. My. God! That was so hot! *fans self* The banter was adorkable, the imagery was delicious... And John mixed the cookie dough together? I totally didn't expect that! Though I really should have, because, well, he's a sneak. That's a fantastic fic!

Thanks a bunch! You're my inspiration! No. Literally. That probably would've never happened if we hadn't been kindling the Sparky thread fires last night ... *hint hint, people*

WHOO HOO!!!! Hooray for 500 posts!

Pretty soon, you'll be at 1000!

Yeah, it took me 2 years to get to 500. By the time I get to 1,000 posts, the SG-1 and SGA movies will have probably been released! Hee hee!

Congratulations Shipperwriter. Can I call you "Shippy"? I hope you don't speak french because you can be mad.lol

I officially adopt Shippy as my nickname! And I know no French. Continue making me mad without my knowledge.

And for your amusement...

Spoiler:

: At last! ShipperWriter's reached 500 posts!
: I really liked that last story with the cookies...
Caldwell: Why doesn't she write stories like that for me?
: *chug*
: I think I need something stronger than champagne before I answer that...
: Indeed. *sips*

Yeah, clearly I'm no gateraid when it comes to devising funny caps...

ROFL!!! That was awesome! All that keeps playing in my head right now is that classic clip from Comic Con when they're asking SGA cast about romantic matches, and Torri suggests, "Caldwell?" right before JoeF dips her back in the chair and kisses her! Thanks for the memories!!!

And because the insepid internet was down at the place I went for lunch today *grumble grumble* I spent an hour writing the TRW missing Sparky scene instead of surfing GW. It's coming along very nicely, will try to post before bed tonight.

Cause I have better things to do, but this is more fun!

And I'm getting closer to 1,000 posts ... one at a time ...

[ShipperWriter]

And just in case anybody on FF.net wants to leave me a review (or some green) (wouldn't mind that either ) here's the link to my page:

ShipperWriter at FanFiction.net

Or click on the link I posted on my sig so people would go check them out. Doi!

[Scary Kitty]

*Shippy gets her spork out*

*helps Shippy spork the internetz*

Thanks a bunch! You're my inspiration! No. Literally. That probably would've never happened if we hadn't been kindling the Sparky thread fires last night ... *hint hint, people*

Ahhh, it's so much fun when we've got a real crazy conversation going on! Darnit, we need SR... hopefully her vacay will be over soon and we'll have our den mother back!

Yeah, it took me 2 years to get to 500. By the time I get to 1,000 posts, the SG-1 and SGA movies will have probably been released! Hee hee!

Just stay here on the Sparky thread. We keep having conversations like this, your post count will go through the roof in no time!

I officially adopt Shippy as my nickname! And I know no French. Continue making me mad without my knowledge.

*cackles*

ROFL!!! That was awesome! All that keeps playing in my head right now is that classic clip from Comic Con when they're asking SGA cast about romantic matches, and Torri suggests, "Caldwell?" right before JoeF dips her back in the chair and kisses her! Thanks for the memories!!!

I LOVE that clip. Joe is so much fun, and Torri's so good at playing along!

And because the insepid internet was down at the place I went for lunch today *grumble grumble* I spent an hour writing the TRW missing Sparky scene instead of surfing GW. It's coming along very nicely, will try to post before bed tonight.

Cause I have better things to do, but this is more fun!

And I'm getting closer to 1,000 posts ... one at a time ...

Well, that's one good thing to an internet outage... opportunity to commit ficcage!

And just in case anybody on FF.net wants to leave me a review (or some green) (wouldn't mind that either ) here's the link to my page:

ShipperWriter at FanFiction.net

Or click on the link I posted on my sig so people would go check them out. Doi!

You so need to get on LiveJournal, if you're not there already. A basic account is free... that's all you need, really.

[ShipperWriter]

*helps Shippy spork the internetz*

Ahhh, it's so much fun when we've got a real crazy conversation going on! Darnit, we need SR... hopefully her vacay will be over soon and we'll have our den mother back!

Well, judging by her tweets, she and Mr. SR seem to be enjoying themselves ... When's she supposed to get back? By end of month, right???

Just stay here on the Sparky thread. We keep having conversations like this, your post count will go through the roof in no time!

*cackles*

I LOVE that clip. Joe is so much fun, and Torri's so good at playing along!

Well, that's one good thing to an internet outage... opportunity to commit ficcage!

Yep, yep, yep, yep to all the above.

You so need to get on LiveJournal, if you're not there already. A basic account is free... that's all you need, really.

I actually am on, it's just when I joined, it confused the crap out of me ... But I was also mainly shipping McKeller at that time, so gimme a moment, I'll try again ...

[ShipperWriter]

OOOOKAY, my LJ is back up and active.

ShipperWriter @ LJ

So far, over the past two years, I have two posts.

I hafta start all over again!

And the server on GW went down again. Almost had heart attack!

On the plus side, my Miller Lite is almost gone ... you know what that means!!!