Control by Wendy Parkinson

Control von Wendy Parkinson

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Control

Elizabeth Weir paced up and down her quarters, cursing under her breath. He'd undermined her authority. He hadn't apologised. Even after she'd explained how she felt, he still said he was in the right.

The arrogant bastard.

She'd never felt so humiliated in her life. And then they'd been interrupted before she could finish the argument. It just made her want to scream. And break things. Preferably John Sheppard's head.

She sat down abruptly on her bed and tried to calm herself. Several deep breaths later, she realised it was doing no good. She was going to have to have it out with him once and for all.

Two minutes later she was ringing the door chime to Sheppard's quarters. "Come in," he shouted. The door slid open to reveal him lying on his bed reading War and Peace. He smiled, apparently oblivious to her mood, then waved the book. "Got to page 49! I reckon I'll finish it in March 2008 if I keep going at this speed."

"Major," Elizabeth began, the wind momentarily taken out of her sails by his mood. He could at least have the courtesy to be as mad with her as she was with him.

He raised an eyebrow, finally noticing something was amiss. "This is about earlier, isn't it?" he said, sitting up and putting his book down.

She nodded. "We didn't finish our conversation."

"No, you didn't finish chewing me out." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, watching her intently. "I'd said what I wanted to."

"You undermined my authority. I need you to promise you won't do that again."

Sheppard stepped towards her, an unreadable expression on his face.

When he didn't say anything, she added, her voice shaking slightly, "You made me look a fool."

A wry smile spread across his face. "Is that what this is about?" He was so close now that Elizabeth automatically backed up a couple of steps, then to her surprise found herself against the wall. "You don't like being humiliated."

"I'm in command. I decide what's a military decision."

He took another couple of steps. She had nowhere to go. Their bodies were only inches apart. She could feel the heat radiating from him, smell his aftershave, feel his breath wafting across her face. His eyes bored into hers. Suddenly he grabbed her hands and held them firmly against the wall, effectively pinning her in place. "Yes, ma'am," he said, pressing his lips to hers.

Elizabeth tried to stay angry with him, but it took just one brush of his tongue and her resolve evaporated like the morning mist. Damn him. Damn him to hell, she thought as she kissed him back, their tongues touching and caressing until her knees went weak and her breath was coming in short gasps.

With one last kiss, he pulled back and looked down at her. "Am I forgiven?" he asked, his best `puppy dog' look firmly in place.

She only just stopped herself from saying `yes'. Just how the hell did he manage to do that? It had to be that thing he did with his teeth. Well, she wasn't going to let him distract her. No, sir. "No, you're not, you smug bastard. You could have been killed, wandering around Atlantis with that infection on the loose."

"But I've got the gene, I would have been fine."

"John, we didn't know that then. Anything could have happened."

He smiled knowingly. "Now we've got to the bottom of it. You were trying to protect me. If it'd been Rodney with Teyla, you'd have let them run round the place to their heart's content."

"No, I wouldn't," she protested. "I was following procedure."

"Elizabeth, we agreed when this started, that it couldn't interfere with work. You let it interfere today."

She shook her head violently. Damn him. He knew how to push every one of her buttons. "So did you. You wouldn't have argued like that with a superior officer."

He raised an eyebrow. "Read my file."

"You're dangerous, irresponsible, insubordinate..." The anger was rising again, fuelled by his arrogance.

"Ah... you have read my file." He leant in to kiss her again, smiling smugly.

Oh no, that wasn't going to work this time. She turned her head away sharply and his mouth made contact with her ear. "No, John. Sex doesn't solve everything."

"That's not what you said last week. `Make me forget, John. Love me, John.'" His tone was bitter. "Sex when you want it, where you want it."

She recoiled like she'd been slapped. "Is that all this is to you? Sex?"

Sheppard shrugged. "It's all I can have, isn't it? You've made that abundantly clear. No sharing your life, no commitment. It all has to be on your terms, with you in control. I never get a say in anything. I'm just here when it suits you. I'm just convenient until you can get home to lover boy." His voice was weary, resigned. "I've had enough, Elizabeth. I think you'd better leave."

Her anger had disappeared; she felt sick. "I'm sorry, John," she said quietly.

As the door closed behind her, she heard him say, "So am I."

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Control von Wendy Parkinson

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