Tag to Trio

Spoilers: Quarantine and Trio

Beta: RoryFaller

MGM owns SGA

Little ol' Des owns little to nothin'

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Stargate: Atlantis

TAG TO TRIO

by Destiny Brighthope

-1-

Jennifer

The numbers 8:47 on her clock's digital display sent Jennifer into a mild panic. Late! her mind screamed, and she swore under her breath. Someone from her staff should have checked in when she missed the start of her shift. Resigning herself to a hasty shower and a morning without breakfast, she threw back the covers and swung her legs onto the floor.

A groan slipped out before she could stop it. Her thighs were sore. Sticky too. Uh-oh. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she almost choked on the pungent odor of sex hanging in the air. Light snoring drew her attention back to bed. She twisted around but was unable to identify her bedmate in the dark. Since her work schedule could be erratic, she'd hung heavy curtains in case she needed to sleep during the day.

She fought the urge to sigh. Knowing that the man she wanted was unavailable, she could only imagine who last night's lover had been. A few candidates sprang to mind. One brought a brief smile to her face. They'd shared a moment once, and if she had to sate her lust with anyone, it might as well be a handsome, hard-bodied hunk like Ronon Dex.

Her smile became a frown. Could Ronon be trusted keep their indiscretion to himself? His previous public behavior suggested not. After they were trapped together and nearly kissed during a citywide lock down, he'd smiled at her like a big kid with a secret. True, she had smiled back, but she'd regretted it afterward. Ronon was a great guy, but she didn't want a relationship with him.

Jennifer probed her memory for an explanation of what happened last night. The dull throb in her temples told her alcohol had been involved. At least the absence of light in the room spared her from a worse hangover. She buried her face in her hands, and the scratchy bandages wrapped around them brought back the previous day's emotional turmoil:

Pride at walking like a comrade alongside Colonel Carter and Rodney McKay.

Annoyance at having to pump her short legs twice as hard to keep up with them.

Elation that, for once, a mission had gone right.

Terror as the earth gave way beneath Rodney's feet and he fell into the old mine.

Desperation as she lunged for him.

White hot anger at Carter for pulling her back.

Relief at seeing Rodney was all right.

Then back to fear as she and Carter tumbled in after him.

Recalling their adventure in the mine almost made her smile. Then she remembered the rest of the day, particularly how it ended—in the collocated club, sharing a drink with...

She peered through the darkness. Oh, no. This was worse than waking up with Ronon.

"Rodney," she whispered. Her heart plummeted, and she felt sick. "What have I done?"

-2-

Rodney

Twelve hours earlier

"You can be charming." Jennifer lifted her wineglass but did not drink. A sultry grin curled the corners of her mouth before she added, "When you don't try too hard."

Rodney wanted to ask what she meant by that. But he was still so surprised by Jennifer's invitation to share a drink that he let it go. Clumsily, he raised his own glass to his lips, a task that required the use of both his injured hands. They throbbed, and he wondered if the salve the doctor applied to treat his rope burns was wearing off. Or maybe his bandages were wrapped too tightly. He could ask Jennifer. Medicine was her department, after all. But one look into her big brown eyes banished the idea.

The wine splashing over his tongue caused Rodney to grimace. White zinfandel was too sweet for his palate, but Jennifer had insisted. When the evening began, he "owed" her a single beer as payment for a lost wager he'd never actually made. So far, the cunning physician had wheedled him out of two rounds and the bottle of wine. He supposed her company was worth the expense and almost said so before thinking better of it.

Jennifer sipped at her wine, then pressed the cool glass to her forehead. Sighing happily, she closed her eyes. "Rodney?" she said.

"Yes?"

"You're trying too hard."

-3-

Jennifer

Jennifer couldn't help the affectionate smile spreading across her face any more than she could help asking out the bright-eyed astrophysicist the moment they were alone in the infirmary.

Rodney scratched his bandaged hand against the bar. "Sam doesn't think I'm all that charming, does she?" He paled. "Not that I want to charm her."

Of course not, Jennifer thought. Why would you want to charm a gorgeous, blue-eyed blond? She said, "Suggesting she flash those boys sure didn't earn you any points."

"I'd have turned my back," Rodney insisted.

"If you could have found a mirror, you would have."

Rodney took another sip of wine and grimaced again. After noticing the expression for the first time a few weeks ago, Jennifer began doing everything she could to see it. It was probably not the best strategy for gaining his attention, but she couldn't resist. She liked the way distaste or annoyance skewed his mouth downward and to the side as if he wished to exile it from his face. No, not liked. Adored. It was firmly in the realm of adored.

Ordering the wine had not been an attempt to provoke the expression. The wine was one of her favorites, and she wanted to share something with him. His dislike simply meant they needed to find something else to share. Her eyes surreptitiously roved over his body. Something else indeed.

"You nearly flashed me," Rodney ventured.

Jennifer choked on a mouthful of wine before swallowing painfully. Rodney had referenced his plan to escape the mine by making a rope of their pants, shirts, and jackets. The plan had been subverted when Sam found an actual rope, but not before Jennifer showed off a good portion of her stomach. She remembered well the disappointment that crossed his face when she lowered her shirt.

Remembered, and filed it away.

She ran her tongue over her teeth. "I don't recall you offering to turn away."

He shrugged. "No mirror."

She raised her glass in a mock toast. Well said.

"Besides, I didn't have time." He grinned. "You were...awfully eager."

Jennifer burst out laughing. "In your dreams, McKay."

-4-

Rodney

Every night, he nearly said, not sure why. It wasn't precisely true. Jennifer had sneaked into his dreams from time to time, but since he was with Katie, and Jennifer was a colleague, he tried not to dwell on those occasions.

But he wasn't with Katie any longer. And Jennifer knew that, had been the one to help him realize that. He also realized, "Am I being charming now?"

"I'll let you know after another glass."

Without delay, Rodney signaled the bartender and gestured to Jennifer's empty glass.

She laughed again. "Do you remember the first time we worked together?"

Rodney nodded.

"You called me a genius." Her cheeks reddened. "That was very charming."

"Calling you a genius is charming?" Rodney scoffed. "Most women I flirt with would be upset I didn't immediately compliment their looks."

"Then you need to flirt with a better class of women." Jennifer lowered her gaze. "To a nerd like me, calling me a genius is better than saying I have a nice ass."

Rodney was just drunk enough to lean back on his stool and take a peek. He nodded solemnly and said, "That is a sweet bit of genius." Unfortunately, he was also drunk enough that he wobbled.

Jennifer reached out to steady him. When he saw her expression, he knew he hadn't offended her. She was grinning, and he suspected—hoped was more like it—that the continued rosiness in her cheeks wasn't just an effect of alcohol.

Their eyes locked, and she waggled a brow. "You're, uh, looking pretty smart yourself, McKay."

He could feel her breath on his cheek as she spoke. Desire coiled in his belly, and he'd have kissed her had not the bartender returned with the wine bottle. By the time Jennifer turned back, desire had been tempered with the knowledge that he was just ending a serious relationship. Well, he supposed it was serious. Though he'd chickened out, he had considered asking Katie to marry him.

Jennifer raised her newly filled glass. "To a better class of women."

Rodney clinked glasses with her and agreed. "To women like you."

-5-

Jennifer

Ooh, Rodney McKay, you just said exactly the right thing. Jennifer felt her pulse quicken in anticipation. Hurry, she told herself, before you chicken out. "Rodney, it's getting late."

He stammered a hasty assent, a frown betraying his disappointment. The dear man was behaving as if he expected her to abandon him right then. I won't,she silently vowed.

His brow pinched in confusion. "Won't what?"

Perhaps she hadn't been so silent. No matter. She giggled. Laying a hand on his arm, she put on her best shy smile and spoke the words that, unbeknownst to her, would change her life forever. "Never mind. Walk me to my room?"

-6-

Rodney

Rodney hoped to use his and Jennifer's injuries as an excuse for a leisurely stroll down the corridors. It would have been nice to pretend he was walking home with a special someone. But while Katie would have hung on his arm and chattered away; stern, silent Jennifer never so much as brushed up against him. And while bandaged hands made holding beer bottles a challenge, they didn't affect her gait. She and Rodney reached her door within minutes.

"So, I'll see you at the staff meeting on Monday?" he remarked casually. He started to walk away, debating whether returning to the club alone and drinking himself into oblivion would be too pathetic when Jennifer did the most surprising thing.

She kissed him. Not a friendly peck, nor an obligatory good night smooch, but a long, lingering kiss that promised untold delights if only he managed not to screw things up. What happened to the reserved girl who couldn't wait for the evening to be over?

She's sliding her tongue into your mouth, he answered himself matter-of-factly. Let her.

How he wanted to. The kiss fed a hunger that had gnawed at Rodney since Katie declared her intention to leave. The wine that tasted too sweet in the glass tasted perfect upon Jennifer's lips. Oh, yeah. The wine.

In just under two hours, they'd consumed a couple of beers and a glass of wine each. Rodney was buzzed. But Jennifer was smaller, and she'd had that second glass. A quick calculation told him she might be impaired. Damn. He ran the numbers again. Damn, damn—son of a bitch—damn!

Then she pressed her body against his, and he forgot what numbers were. He was conscious only of her curves molded against him, of her erect nipples poking at his chest, of the cold hand with it scratchy bandage that had worked itself under his tee shirt, and the short puffs of hot breath against his throat as the kiss ended and she clung to him. But mostly he was aware of the throb of desire starting in his belly and uncoiling slightly lower.

Giving in would be so much easier if they didn't work together so closely. Though botany was technically under his auspices as head of science, his and Katie's duties rarely overlapped. If he messed things up with her, his day-to-day life wouldn't suffer. Being with her involved no risk. She was safe, uncomplicated...

Boring.

But one night of passion with Jennifer could lead to years of awkwardness. Was it really worth the risk? He inhaled, and her scent—still fresh and sweet after hours in a dirty mine—overwhelmed him. He moaned her name, fully intent on telling her they had to stop. His voice failed him. He gripped her shoulders, fully intent on pushing her away. The feel of her bare flesh beneath his fingers weakened his resolve.

"Wait, we shouldn't—" he offered in token refusal.

"Don't let me go," she whimpered, running her fingers through his hair. Her lips tendered the skin of his throat, the sensation extra cool after the heat of her breath.

Desperately adopting the role of diagnostician in honor of the physician turning his legs to jelly, he reasoned, Maybe alcohol isn't a cause, but a symptom.

Surviving a trauma could be a license to throw caution to the wind. Jennifer had nearly died that afternoon. If her advances were a reaction to trauma, then no one could accuse Rodney of taking advantage. To the contrary, he'd be doing her a service—healing her as she'd so often healed him. Besides, he'd also nearly died, a victim of the same trauma. Didn't he deserve to act with the same impunity?

Groaning, he wrapped his arms around Jennifer and crushed her body against his. He kissed her again, hard. His hands roamed over her back. In answer, she pressed more insistently against him. That gave him the courage to move his hands still lower to the swell of her buttocks. He squeezed the firm globes and—with his rationality ebbing—began forcing her against his rampant erection.

-7-

Jennifer

Clarity fought to regain a purchase in Jennifer's mind. For minutes, her entire world consisted of the scrumptious lips and nimble fingers of her favorite physicist. When Ronon Dex, the so-called sexiest man on Atlantis, failed to follow up after the lock down, Jennifer was hurt and disappointed. All his smooth talk about her being stronger than she appeared nearly charmed a kiss out of her. Now she was glad he hadn't pursued her. If he had, she might have missed out on this.

Reaching up, she ruffled Rodney's hair. She felt like laughing out loud. Her other suitor might have the smoldering eyes and flawless physique that turned the heads of most women, but he lacked that wide wondrous smile that—clichés be damned—lit up a room. Or, if he didn't, it was hidden under that scruffy beard. Rodney's own beard was growing in, at least a day's worth. She nuzzled his neck, and the stubble grazing her cheek gave her a delicious shiver.

His arms tightened around her, and he kissed her hard. Thrilled by his enthusiasm, she was ready to match him kiss for kiss and grope for grope. His grip on her butt tore a low moan from her throat. Her nipples were painfully erect, her panties soaked, and when he began rubbing her against his generous erection, she nearly climaxed from the electric jolt that shot through her nethers.

Then she remembered where they were and realized they were grinding against one another in the hall—in full view of anyone who might happen by. Her hands moved rapidly to his chest and applied gentle pressure. Rodney's eyes were glazed over, and she had to shake his shoulders and call his name several times before he came to himself.

Horror contorted his face when he did. "Oh, God, Jennifer. I'm so sorry." He looked about frantically to see if they'd been spotted. "I should—I'll go."

"Oh, no, Mister. You're not getting out of this that easily." She palmed open her door and dragged him inside. He was still babbling an apology when she forced him against the door and renewed her attack on his throat. He didn't stop apologizing until she took his hands and forcefully replaced them on her buttocks.

Between kisses, she fumbled with his belt buckle. Heading off his protest, she said, "You can't undress by yourself with those bulky bandages. And who would you rather help you? A burly orderly?" She gave him a pointed gaze. "Or a girl with—and I quote—'a sweet bod'."

"You remember that?"

"I've been thinking about it all afternoon." Pulling his belt from its loops, she let it drop to the floor then led him by the hand to her bed and set him on the edge of her mattress. "I just wish Sam hadn't cut you off." She licked her lips. "I'd love to know what else you would have said."

Rodney's mischievous grin set off fireworks inside her. Whatever he had to say would have been good, but the sudden throb of need coursing through her would not be fulfilled by words. She placed a finger on his lips. "Tell me later," she whispered huskily. "Now, show me."

-8-

Rodney

Show you? The fingers teasing the hem of her shirt suggested there was plenty she meant to show him.

All right, Keller. You asked for it. Hooking fingers through her belt loops, Rodney tugged her onto his lap where he could lavish kisses on her face and throat. Mindful of his injured hands, he gripped her shoulders and directed her to lie back on the mattress.

Jennifer maintained eye contact as she reclined. She crooked a finger, beckoning him to join her. He did, stretching out alongside her and leaning in for a kiss. Her lips parted, but Rodney intentionally stopped short.

Annoyance flashed in her eyes as she moved to bridge the gap. Just then he pulled away. Her indignant grunt followed him off the mattress onto the floor.

She started to rise. Rodney motioned for her to stay put, and to his surprise, she actually obeyed. He hiked up her shirt until it bunched beneath her breasts. He'd resented her haste to conceal her body in the mine. This time his eyes drank their fill.

And not of her belly only. Her entire petite frame became food for his gaze. Like a starving man, he gorged himself, mapping each freckle and blemish, committing to memory the distinct angle of her nose; the curve of her prominent cheekbones; the thin, firm line of her mouth.

Messy hair and bandaged hands could not detract from such beauty. Her lips, swollen from kissing, gave her an air of sensuality Rodney had never associated with her before. He'd always considered Jennifer cute in a girlish sort of way; now, she was breathtaking. How did I miss that?

Slowly, methodically, milking the effect for all its worth, Jennifer wet her lips. Rodney was mesmerized. He heard a peeling sound and looked down to find her pants unbuttoned and unzipped. Jennifer shrugged innocently as if to say, How did that happen?

Injuries be damned, Rodney tore the pants down her legs. He winced, paying for his haste with throbbing palms. A sympathetic hand clasped his shoulder.

"My turn," Jennifer said in a throaty whisper. She kicked off her shoes and pants before dropping to her knees beside him. She claimed the kiss he had denied her, then patted the mattress. "Up."

Grateful for the chance to save face, Rodney scrambled onto the bed. Double-knotted laces made untying his boots a chore for Jennifer. She was right; he couldn't have done it on his own.

"Do you think someone's going to steal them?" she asked.

He chuckled.

She made short work of his pants, lingering over the zipper, then rubbing him through his boxers. Rodney groaned, which clearly pleased her. He started to remove his shirt, but Jennifer halted him.

"That's my job." She stood, stripped off the shirt, and tossed it across the room.

Her own shirt had fallen into place again, and he relished the sight of her in panties and that sleeveless blue number that drove him wild. If she dressed that way while treating him, he might not begrudge her profession so much. She tugged the shirt over her head.

Even better, Rodney thought. When she reached behind her back to unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor, he thought, Better still. So long as I'm the only patient who gets the full treatment.

Jennifer raised her chin and thrust out her chest, almost daring him to say her tiny breasts weren't the most spectacular he'd ever seen. Rodney would say nothing of the sort. His hands rose on their own to cup and squeeze her twin mounds. Concerned his bandages would irritate her porcelain skin, he forced himself to stop.

Knitted brows displayed her irritation until Rodney signaled his predicament. Then a smile graced her features. Turned out, she had the perfect solution. Straddling his lap, she presented first one breast, then the other, to his eager mouth. Alternating between the two, he nursed greedily, the taste of her ripe, succulent nipples more drugging than any alcohol.

She steadied herself against his shoulders and ground her hips against him, coaxing his member to fullness. Shudders racked his body, and he whimpered, actually whimpered.

Play time was over. He needed her now. "Jennifer, do you have any—?"

"Medical bag. On the table." She squeaked in protest as he rolled her onto her back.

"I'll get them." Painfully aware of the erection tenting his boxers, he crossed the room and rifled through her bag. The box of condoms he located was still wrapped in plastic. He shot her a look. "Am I supposed to use my teeth?"

"Mmm." She sighed dreamily. "You had better."

-9-

Jennifer

Protection had been the furthest thought from her mind when Jennifer invited Rodney to her room. Among Atlantis' off-world trading partners, condoms were a much sought-after commodity. She had restocked a village clinic a few days ago and stashed a leftover box in her bag, intending to return it to the infirmary stores. It was pure luck that she hadn't.

Rodney's frustration mounted as he searched the desk for a pen, a letter opener, or anything sharp. His eyes lit upon something in her bag that made him smile. He withdrew a scalpel, waving it proudly.

"Hey," Jennifer called. "Those are for—"

"Emergencies? This is one." He sliced through the shrink-wrap, tore open the box, and removed several of the wrapped condoms. Returning to her side, he handed one over and deposited the rest on the nightstand. He shrugged. "The night is young."

Fighting a grin, Jennifer scooted to the edge of the mattress and yanked the boxers down his hips. His manhood sprung into view, proud and erect. Careful to keep her bandages away from the sensitive tip, she grasped him, enjoying the warmth and weight of him upon her fingers.

Her inner vamp wanted to throw caution to the wind—and the condom along with it—and feel that heavy warmth part her labia and plunge deep inside with no barrier to spoil their fun. The responsible physician, ever present no matter how drunk she became, objected.

She tore open the wrapper and placed the tip of the condom between her lips. Rodney groaned as she enveloped the head of his penis in the hot cavern of her mouth. Jennifer felt a delicious shiver as she imagined doing this, too, with no condom. Some day, she told herself. She rolled the latex down his shaft and gave him a little squeeze.

Rodney jerked in her hand, then released a slow controlled breath. "Close one," he mumbled.

Jennifer smiled up at him. He might not last long, but that was okay. The way she was worked up, it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge either. No more slow seduction then. Time to wow him.

She peeled off her panties and rose onto her hands and knees. Determined to be bold and unashamed, she peered over her shoulder and wiggled her rear. "C'mon, Rodney. The hottest doctor on Atlantis is yours for the taking. Whatever will you do with her?"

His weight on her bed gave her an answer. She faced forward in time to hide her goofy smile.

Strong, sure fingers probed her wetness. The squishy sound coming from Jennifer told her lover what she already knew: she was ready. When the fingers withdrew, she expected them to be replaced by his hard member. Instead, his weight abandoned her bed. She wanted to cry.

Then Rodney's warm, wet tongue swiped across her slit, and Jennifer moaned. His thumb and forefinger pinched her clit, and she bucked. His stubble-covered cheeks rubbed against her thighs, and she nearly came.

When he had her panting hard, he got into bed behind her and thrust home. Slow at first, his strokes rapidly gained speed. Hands that started out massaging her round butt cheeks followed the ridges of her spine to seize her shoulders and force her back against him. Powerful, unladylike grunts burst from her throat with each impact. She couldn't find it in herself to care.

Jennifer didn't know whether it had been too long or if Rodney was exceptionally skilled, but he was hitting—ooh—just the right spot. It felt amazing. She wanted to tell him, praise him, but with the tremors rolling through her, she wasn't confident she could string together two syllables, let alone a complete thought.

Rodney hunkered over her, supporting himself with one hand and using the other to grasp one of her swaying breasts. He teased, then tugged at the nipple. Whatever concern had motivated his earlier hands-off policy had been lost amidst the haze of lust. Jennifer heartily approved. Her deep moans were interspersed with a series of yeses and pleases. She couldn't articulate what she wanted; she only knew she wanted more. More of what he was doing to her. More of what he was making her feel. More of Rodney McKay.

He switched breasts, the move drawing him closer, almost like he was hugging her. She wailed pitifully, suddenly keenly aware of all she wanted from this man and doubtful she'd ever get it. Tears sprinkled the mattress, but she forced those emotions away and focused on the pleasure.

There was plenty to keep her focus. Her arms shook; her bones felt like jelly. So, it was no great surprise when she collapsed forward onto her chest and face. Rodney didn't miss a beat, altering his angle and continuing to plunder his willing conquest.

For the moment, Jennifer was content to lie still and accept his strokes. Aware that she was opening herself to accusations of being a passive lover, she could do little about it. Shakily, she pushed up onto her elbows.

Pausing mid-stroke, Rodney leaned over and wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders. He straightened, and Jennifer felt herself being lifted until she sat upright atop her calves. His magic fingers once more found the hard nub of her clit, his other hand jiggled her breast, and his hips resumed their work, feeding his organ into her slick channel from below.

He was doing all the work; she had to do something. Turning her head, she found his mouth and kissed for all her worth. When they had to separate to breathe, she finally found her voice. Her pent-up feelings spilled out, and she told him how manly he was, how wonderful he was making her feel, how he was the best she'd ever had, and how she wished to make love again and again and again as often as he'd let her.

Breathing hard, he lay them on their sides. At last, Jennifer had room to maneuver. She pumped her hips frantically to meet his thrusts. Their rhythms synced and she could feel him deeper than before. She squeezed her inner muscles, and a gut-wrenching groan exploded from his throat. He clamped onto her hip to hold her still, his bandage scoring her skin, and pushed one, two, three times, and emptied himself.

His twitching member triggered a convulsive orgasm in Jennifer. Tremors shook her body and she clutched tightly at the arms wrapped around her. When she settled down, Rodney pressed a cool kiss to the back of her neck. The aftershock it triggered had Jennifer convinced she was experiencing another climax.

He eased out of her, and Jennifer rolled over to face him. The cocky grin he was sporting rivaled her own. She reached down to slick off the condom and cradle his softening member. Feeling wicked, she promised, "Next time I'll kiss it."

The big smile that covered his face put the cocky grin to shame, and a completely satisfied Rodney McKay was the last sight she saw before falling into a deep, contented slumber.

-10-

Rodney

Her mattress was firmer than he liked, her sheets more functional than luxurious, and her extra pillow lumpy. But Rodney would take Jennifer curled up beside him over silk sheets and a down comforter any day. And he didn't even miss his specialty neck pillow. Well, not too much anyway.

His petite physician was better than the boring old botanist. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding his mind, but for the moment, he couldn't remember the other woman's name. Eh, whatever. He'd think of it tomorrow. For now, he wanted to fall asleep with this precious woman in his arms.

He brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her one more time. She murmured sleepily. He checked the clock. 12:17, it read. Not a bad way to end an exhausting day. Or start a new one.

"You're something else, Jennifer," he whispered. "And I'm not letting you go. No matter how much my hands hurt."

Maybe he wouldn't have to. Jennifer's promise kept replaying in his mind. Though he naturally welcomed the offer of oral sex, what really made him smile was the implication that there would be a next time. Rodney had experienced less than his fair share of one-night stands, but he'd had enough to know that the next morning was invariably awkward. But things would be different with Jennifer. He knew it.

As far as he was concerned, the morning after couldn't come soon enough.

-11-

Jennifer

The Morning After

"What have I done?" Jennifer waved her hand over the sensor on the nightstand. The inset lamp activated, illuminating a couple of stray condoms, a beige bra, and a colorful pair of male boxers. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Nothing changed. Clothing still scattered the floor, and Rodney McKay still lay in her bed.

Advice from long ago resurfaced to mock her: Don't waste a good man on a one-night stand. If you want a future with the guy, take it slow.Experience had taught her that to ignore the advice was to invite heartbreak.

Not again. Not with Rodney. What Jennifer wouldn't give to have gone to bed with someone else—someone who didn't matter to her. Think, Keller. You're supposed to be a genius. There must be a way to salvage this relationship.

Given enough time, she might have been able to think of one. But just then Rodney stirred. In the muted light, his hair stuck up wildly in all directions. The impulse to reach over and smooth it down was almost irresistible.

"Good morning, beautiful," Rodney crooned, tugging at her forearm. "Come back to bed."

When the astrophysicist smiled at her like that, there was little she could deny him. A drugging kiss and soft, lazy caresses threatened to rekindle the previous evening's passion. For a split second, Jennifer let herself believe all would be well. Then Rodney spoke again.

"Jennifer, I have to ask, what was last night?"

Let the awkwardness begin, she thought bitterly.

"I know what it meant to me," he continued. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

There it was, an out. She could say that last night was a lapse in judgment and, while she had no regrets, they should forget about it. If she picked her words carefully, she might even leave room for a repeat performance down the line.

If only she'd kept her head and ended the date with a kiss, or even a make-out session. But you had to give it up on the first date. He probably thinks you're a slut. Hot tears leaked from her eyes.

"Jennifer, if you don't answer soon, I'll start babbling. I really need you to save me from myself here."

"Honey, I don't think anyone can do that." The words rushed out of her mouth honest and unfiltered. She might as well continue the trend. "What last night was is up to you. If you like, it can be a simple thank you for saving my life."

"A card and a box of chocolates is a simple thank you. But last night?" He shook his head and grinned. "Mind you, I'm not complaining."

The grin was a punch to the gut. Jennifer swallowed hard and tried to mask her disappointment. But her mouth refused to smile, so she buried her face in his chest where he couldn't see her. "Okay," she murmured. "That's fine by me."

He cleared his throat. "I thought you said it was my decision."

"I did, and you made it very clear what that decision was." Why was he teasing her? It wasn't fair.

"When exactly did I do that?"

"Just now when you said that..." She trailed off. What had he said?

Rodney wrapped his arms around her. "When I said that last night was incredible and way beyond simple gratitude?"

Point taken. Jennifer wet her lips. "Then, what do you want?"

"Breakfast."

"Breakfast?" She shook her head. "Okay."

"Then lunch."

"All right."

"Also dinner."

"Three meals in one day?" This time her smile came naturally. "Now, you're getting clingy."

"Clingy?" He acted hurt. "Dear lady, you wound me."

She made a great show of considering his words. Then she nuzzled his throat. "Okay, I'll go to dinner with you."

Rodney clucked his tongue. "Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer. You have to learn to stick to your convictions. If three meals is too much for you—"

"I am sticking to my convictions. You're only getting two meals with me today."

"But you said—"

"It's nearly nine." She jerked a thumb at the clock. "There's no way we'll make it to breakfast in time."

"It's the weekend. They serve till ten."

Jennifer rolled over and snatched a condom from the nightstand. "But, honey, I'm not letting you out of bed until at least eleven."

[end]

 

Bonus Scene

A steamy scene, but not explicitly smutty. Just enough to whet your appetite not wet your...never mind. ;-)

Stargate: Atlantis

The Morning After

A Tag to

Tag to Trio

By Destiny Brighthope

"Maybe we can spend the day together."

Rodney McKay flexed his hand and winced. The analgesic gel was wearing off, and if not for the devastatingly attractive blond whose bed he was sharing, he'd be complaining already. But Jennifer Keller's smooth body pressed against his calmed him in a way nothing ever had.

"We don't have to," Jennifer said quietly, "if you think it's a bad idea."

"What? No, it's fine, a great idea in fact."

"Really? Because you don't sound all that enthused." She turned over to face him, her eyes betraying her uncertainty. When they awoke, she'd been a bundle of nerves. A night of wild, alcohol-fueled sex can do that to you, especially when your previous relationship barely verged on the romantic. Rodney did his best to assure her that he wanted more than a one-night stand, and they cuddled, something he didn't remember doing the previous night.

"It's my hands," he told her and explained his predicament. When in doubt, always break out the war wounds. Chicks dig scars, as this lovely lady herself had informed him.

Instantly, her mood dissipated. "Oh, Rodney, I'm so sorry. I should have realized."

Disentangling herself from his arms, she crossed the room to her desk. To his irritation, she paused at the dresser to pull on a long tee shirt. She'd not bothered to dress before now. "I had more of the gel and fresh bandages delivered to my quarters while we were at the bar," she said.

"You planned on my being here?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

She blushed. "Noooo, I had it delivered for me. I'm hurt too, remember? Just not as bad as you." Returning to the bed, she changed his bandages without batting an eye—Rodney had to look away—and slathered his hands with more of the pain-deadening gel.

Ah, bliss.

Afterward she climbed back into bed. Rodney pulled her close, slipping a hand beneath her shirt to rest his palm on the gentle swell of her belly. Releasing a contented sigh, he began idly stroking her stomach.

He'd been surprised to learn just how much Jennifer's body turned him on. Rail thin she was not, but soft in places where the soldiers who trained more vigorously were firm. Lush, he thought. That's how I'd describe her.

Less than 24 hours ago he called Sam Carter perfect. His perception changed radically once he'd gotten his hands on Jennifer. Sam was still beautiful—being with Jennifer hadn't blinded him. What it had done was reorient his internal compass. True north lay directly ahead, nestled beneath the covers.

"Better?" Jennifer asked.

"Perfect." He didn't mean the gel.

Jennifer sighed dreamily under Rodney's lazy touch. Slowly, he increased the size of his arcs until he was tracing the underside of the curve of her belly. "That's nice," she murmured.

After a while his fingers dipped even lower. Her breath hitched, but she didn't complain or try to stop him. Soon she was moaning, writhing, and when he buried his fingers in her warmth, her legs clamped tight around them. Gentle coaxing loosened her grip enough to let him withdraw.

Rolling her onto her back, he lavished kisses upon her face and throat. A stray thought tickled the back of his mind as he peeled back her collar and nuzzled her clavicle. Would making love again so soon give Jennifer the impression that he wanted her only for her body?

Lost in thought, he barely noticed when she began groping for something on the nightstand. Her hand came back momentarily, and she very quickly slipped that something into his palm. He couldn't help but grin when he realized what it was.

So much for slowing down, he thought, tearing open the condom wrapper. Before he could withdraw the latex sheath, Jennifer once more interrupted his thoughts.

"Rodney?" She averted her eyes once she had his attention. "No matter what happens in the future…I just want you to know…" She swallowed hard. "I just want you to know that I'm happy we did this."

Warmth suffused his chest. He waited for her to look up, then pressed the gentlest of kisses to her lips. "Jennifer, I'm happy too."

And he was. For the first time in a good long while, he was completely, utterly content. A small, cynical part of him wondered how long such a feeling could last. But the rest of him for the rest of the day belonged to a pretty little lady with a lush body, a wicked tongue, and the kindest heart he'd ever known.

The End?

You never can tell