At last, here it comes, my first Atlantis fanfic, a Caldwell/Weir. Now I'm working in the Spanish version. Please, first read the info below and then click to enjoy the reading. I love the reviews and feedbacks!
Al fin termine mi primer fanfic de Atlantis, de Caldwell y Weir. Tranquilos ya estoy trabajando en la version española. Leed la informacion antes de pinchar en el link (bueno, el cut) y espero que os guste. Recordad que como toda escritora de fanfic adoro los comentarios asi que no os corteis.
Title: Diplomatic Relationship
Characters: Weir, Caldwell, Teyla, Sheppard, Beckett, Ronon, Novak
Word Count: 3517
Archiving: Caldwell/Weir Fever Yahoo group, b5delenn LJ, Weir/Caldwell Fans LJ, and wherever you want, just tell me please
Warnings: Graphic sex, sexual language
Spoilers: Critical Mass, The Long Goodbye, Michael
Author's note: This story begins just before "Michael". I anticipate Ronon/Novak I'll develop it in another fanfic in the future. Remember feedbacks are good for the writer's soul ;)
Disclaimers: I don’t own the story concept or characters for Stargate Atlantis. I make no money from these stories
THANKS A LOT TO MY BETAREADER SID. She did the wonderful work so you now can understand this story because I'm not a native writer (I'm Spanish). By the way I'm now working in the Spanish version
Walking toward the briefing room Colonel Steven Caldwell found himself wandering again about Doctor Elizabeth Weir. The woman was as much fascinating as infuriating.
It had been difficult to pass through those defiant green eyes but gradually they had become comfortable around each other, sharing conversation, playing chess. Until one day he had awaken trapped in the deepest recess of his mind by that jackass Goa'uld. He remembered too well the damn snake searching through his memories and his feelings to learn how to manipulate the situation. It had seen how he felt about her.
When Caldwell had known her before, he thought that she was just another diplomat, a damnable beautiful one, but easy to treat nonetheless. Ah! It had been like throwing him against a hard wall. When he realized she was different.
Throughout heated discussions his feelings had been changing from admiration to interest, passing to attraction and finally leading to lust. Damn it! He was a dirty old man in lust, 'Am I having a mid life crisis or what?' he sighed 'Well at least I don't have to buy an expensive car. I have the Daedalus' he thought somewhat humorously.
That same lust had been at bay as the Goa'uld possessed his mind but now that Steven was free it had come back with a vengeance. And lust was not precisely the better thing to have in mind now that he had to face Dr. Weir in the briefing room.
'Don't stare at him' she thought sternly as she watched the table or Dr. Beckett expounding on his theories, everything except the man that sat exactly across from her. Not after last night. Elizabeth Weir didn't think she could face Colonel Caldwell, not at least for a very long time.
Last night she had been in her room, in the darkness. She was so tense, and the "Phoebus" incident had been the last drop. She needed some "relief", it was logic and why the hell was she trying to justify her actions to herself!? She was a grown woman!
She had let her hand work to alleviate her stress as she searched in her mind for a fantasy. Thinking about Simon was too painful. John was her friend and it felt wrong. Ronon, it would be Ronon.
Their relationship was one of camaraderie, he respected her and she admired him but that was all; she could take him in her mind and transform him at her will and she would not feel embarrassed facing him in the morning, well not too embarrassed anyway. No one could deny that he was the perfect material for a fantasy; sensual, sexual and breathtaking.
As her hands wandered across her body and she envisioned Ronon her mind began to play with her; soon it was not that wild mane of hair, his eyes were not emerald but dark and piercing and before she could stop it her fantasy was Steven Caldwell. Her hands stopped dead and she opened her eyes. Definitively not a safe fantasy, mainly because along with the wish of yelling at the good colonel came the hidden wish of grab him and. 'don't go there Elizabeth!'
She fought with herself for a while but her mind won the battle. She gave in and her imagination filled with images of Caldwell, a body that she just supposed under that uniform. In her fantasy he was looking at her with the same gaze he had when they were arguing or he was thinking his next move in chess, his sharp eyes narrowed. She came with those eyes in her mind.
Then she had felt truly mortified.
Her eyes wandered across the room, avoiding him; she looked at Ronon. As a good diplomatic Elisabeth felt a healthy curiosity for the behaviors of the people around her. Ronon was quiet; it was not an unusual behavior in him but since they were discussing the possibility of using the retrovirus developed by Carson in a wraith she thought he would be arguing against the matter.
However, his eyes were fixed in front of him and his face reflected the same wonder as though he watched the man who discovered fire. Then his gaze took a predatory gleam and he flashed a wolfish smile at whoever was in front of him. Elisabeth followed Ronon's gaze: Lindsey Novak. She was there as a scientific assistant to Caldwell.
Weir barely contained her smile as she looked at the good doctor; she was looking at Carson but from the pink shade of her cheeks and the highcoughs shaking her frame Elisabeth knew that the other woman noticed that she was being watched by the Satedan Specialist.
What was happening on Atlantis lately? It was as if the air was charged with some kind of sexual tension. She watched Sheppard and Teyla sparring and it seemed more like a mating dance, and now Ronon Dex was staring at Dr. Novak like potential prey. Her eyes moved unconsciously towards Caldwell and suddenly she was trapped under a piercing, narrowed gaze. She was so grateful when Carson broke the spell, calling an end to the meeting, and she finally could reach the sanctuary of her office.
The night was coming peacefully over Atlantis, as Elizabeth emerged from her shower and dressed; over the lacy white panties she slid some comfortable cotton pants and put on a plain blue t-shirt. She skipped the bra since no one would bother to come by at this time of night.
It seemed that destiny had other plans though as her doorbell chirped. She sighed "Open!" She was shocked he was there, Steven Caldwell in all his glory. He was in that blue sweater she liked and his arms were crossed over his chest, leaning on the doorframe. Her mind wandered to last nights dream as her eyes roved around his broad shoulders and his confused face.
"Doctor Weir, I didn't realize it was so late." he hesitated before he spoke again, "I thought that since my problem with the Goa'uld we might need to have a chat."
"Of course," she motioned him to come inside as she glanced briefly at the room; good, everything in order, it would be more than embarrassing for the man, with whom she maintained a constant and somehow exciting verbal sparring match, to see her room in disarray. Or, heaven forbid, some forgotten underwear lying beside the bed. She shoved to the back of her mind the fact that she cared what he thought about her as they sat across from each other on the tiny sofa.
For a while he seemed at a loss for words; Elizabeth was surprised, if there was something that she admired about him it was his forwardness. He eventually spoke, "I was wondering if it bothered you in some way," at her confused face he explained, "I mean the Goa'uld, when it was inside of me."
She arched her eyebrows meaningfully, "Well."
He seemed to realize the utter stupidity of his question "I mean, at a personal level. Apart from the fact of that it put all of the people of this base at risk and."
"Actually when he was not an arrogant highhanded bastard he could be, quite charming," she cut him with her words.
"Charming?" he sounded so upset that she smirked.
"Colonel, it's not the first time that I have been face to face with a Goa'uld, but the first time I knew he was one of them. I think you've heard about, Camulus. He was arrogant, manipulative but very clever. Very highhanded, of course he had chosen a physically perfect host so he was full of himself. He even tried to take advantage of that," she snorted softly and then she watched him deeply. "Of course now we didn't know you were a host. I thought he was you." She had sadness in her voice as she spoke, "He cheated us well, Colonel."
He watched her thoughtfully. Did she think that the snake had been 'charming' or that he, Steven Caldwell, was charming in a Goa'uld-ish way? That was not definitively something he wanted to think about and highhanded? That was good coming from her! Or maybe she thought that he was charming, period. His lips curved in a half smile as he watched her blushing slightly.
God, he was doing it again, that narrowed gaze, flattering and nerve-wrecking. Flattering because it was a gaze of a man appreciating what he sees without a shadow of guilt, nerve-wrecking almost for the same reason, with those eyes he bared her of her authority. She was so aware that she was just a woman in front of that magnificent man. 'Stop it!' she reproached herself.
He stood up "Thank you, Doctor Weir." She stood too as he spoke "I've found your conversation quite, enlightening."
"Oh" she was not sure if he had taken well her explanations "I didn't mean."
He cut her "I think we cleared the air" He watched a small, shy smile form on her lips. He had thought a lot about those lips; inappropriate, breaking the rules thoughts, and now he was drawn by them. Without realizing it he had began leaning towards her and now they was just inches apart. He knew he could make a fool of himself, he knew she probably had a good right cross; he didn't care.
"Doctor Weir," his breath tickled over her face, "I should go"
"Colonel Caldwell, you should," she whispered.
Despite her words she didn't move. There were a lot of reasons to move away from him, to lead him to her door but her body had one more powerful reason, which overrode the careful logic about rules, regulations and other considerations. Elizabeth leaned up to press her mouth to his.
First just a slight caress, their lips molding to each other as his hands moved to her waist. She had never imagined that his thin lips could feel so warm and soft. One of his large hands was now holding the back of her neck, titling her head as he slanted his mouth over hers, sucking her top, then her bottom lip in to his mouth, slowly, languidly.
She opened her mouth and then they were battling, their tongues performing a mating dance. His free arm held her body flush against his hard one in a vice grip. She was a willing prisoner and her hands were mapping the broad expanse of his back through his sweater.
Steven kissed her hard like a thirsty man. This was not a dream, he was not in the middle of a lonely night's fantasy, he was actually kissing the formidable Elizabeth Weir and she was kissing him back. She taste like coffee and sugar and definitively female and he was lost and addict.
He backed her against a wall and left her mouth to explore her neck. Pale, slender and soft, it had always been teasing and tempting to him and now he was going to make the best of this chance before she recovered her sanity and threw him out of her room. Kissing, licking, gently nipping; for the soft moans she uttered. She liked it and God helped him, it made his blood boil.
How could she imagine that the highhanded colonel was this good? He was making a mess with her neck and Elizabeth was becoming really impatient which was not normal behaviour for her. Obviously he came from the gentlemanly side of the old school and he was not going to make a move without a hint; she gripped his sweater and took it off his body, then proceeded with the buttons of his shirt.
Meanwhile, Steven reassumed his quest at her neck, sending pleasurable shivers throughout her body, the ache and wetness between her legs was becoming unbearable.
All insecurity gone, Steven eagerly freed her of her t-shirt as he ravished her mouth. His hands instinctively seek for her breast. They fit in his hands as if they belong to him, the texture velvety and warm, nipples hard and excited sliding against his palms. His erection twitched in response and
he pressed his lower body against hers as he groaned deeply in his chest.
His lips trailed across her jaw and her neck. Her breasts were waiting for his hungry eyes and mouth. Lapping at her light pink nipple he was rewarded by a musical sighed 'Steven'. One of her hands was holding his head as he suckled the tight bud and the other one gripped his shoulder. Steven began to massage the flesh between her legs and his head swam at the heat he felt through the cotton of her pants. Her moans encouraged him and she moved with the rhythm of his hand.
He slowly sank to his knees as he teased her stomach with his tongue and lips. Elizabeth watched through heavy lidded eyes his bald head and his broad shoulders as he worshipped her body. Suddenly she was pinned by a dark intense gaze from the man kneeling before her; despite his position she felt very much like his prey.
His large hands glided across the sides of her waist, grasping the edges of her pants and panties and sliding both of them down her slender legs. Goosebumps rose across her skin and her breathing accelerated in excited anticipation as he coaxed first one foot then the other to free her of the garments. Forcing her thighs apart, for a moment his gaze was fixed on what was revealed. Apart from a triangle of tight dark curls in her mound she was bare; she blushed, not knowing what Steven would think about the maximum civil authority of Atlantis shaving her privates. When his fired eyes retuned to hers she didn't doubt anymore.
Elizabeth could just whimper as the stroke of a hot tongue delved between her soaked folds of flesh. Finding easily her throbbing clit, tracing teasing circles and she just whimpered. The width of his tongue rasping her most sensitive flesh, bringing her closer to insanity and she could only whimper.
As he was suckling at her clitoris, she gripped his shoulders, clawing at his flesh, knowing that she was going to explode. She came whimpering as her body shivered helplessly, his large hands holding her hips firmly.
Eventually she breathed again and found Steven cradling her against his chest. She looked up at him; along with the passion there was tenderness she had never seen before in his eyes and his mouth was curved in a smug smile; as all men he was not immune to ego. She cleaned his lips briefly and then kissed him with an intensity she had not felt before. She tasted herself in his mouth; she didn't care.
The brush of cloth over her bare skin reminded her that he was not naked yet. Still kissing him she fumbled with his belt as he discarded his shoes. His pants finally were on the floor and she had to give him points as she watched between kisses how he got rid of his socks only using his feet. She fought against the tented black boxer and finally got rid of them, glorying in the feeling of skin against skin, his erection trapped between them.
She snaked an arm between them and encircled his maleness with her hand; oh, my...
Large, thick and hard, like silk over steel, and he was hot to the touch. She stroked him as he half purred, half groaned.
Elizabeth hid her smile in his hairy chest "Colonel Caldwell, pleased to meet you" She squeezed him gently. A masculine rumble of his laugh answered her as she backed them to the bed and pushed him so he fell on his back. She perused his body; his torso spoke of a daily light workout, nature had blessed him with good legs, unusual in a man. His erection stood too proud and she watched his too calm face; she narrowed her eyes, she was planning to drive him insane.
Steven watched a devious, almost feline gleam in her green eyes as she leaned over him. He waited for her kiss but instead watched the change in her position and he swallowed hard, surely not? His fists gripped handfuls of the sheets beneath him; a deep groan erupted from his chest.
Hot, moist inferno encased him, and when he was able to open his eyes he was rewarded with a sight extracted from his wildest fantasies. Her mouth on him and he didn't know what the hell she was doing with her tongue but he could die happy just now. He knew that probably there was something more erotic than that sight but his brain couldn't find it. His hips began to move without his consent and he knew he had to stop her because if she went on he was not going to last.
"Elizabeth," a low warning, half pained, through clenched teeth. She ignored him. It was an act of incredible will power to gently push her away and then pull so she reclined her body in the bed.
At her amused expression he explained "That was too good but it would be too short"
"Doesn't seem too short to me," she glanced downwards smiling. She was silenced by a demanding kiss as he rolled her on her back. Hovering over her, supporting his weight on his arm he circled her clitoris with his thumb. Her head fell back, his name sighed as she sought his touch and he moved pressing his need against her wetness, lubricating himself with every stroke.
Her hands tightened on his back in response, encouraging him and her legs opened wider in silent invitation. He didn't need more and his erection pierced her flesh in a sure stroke as she cried out in pleasure. Engulfing him in her tight heat, for a moment he didn't move as they adjust to each other.
Then he began to move and Elizabeth thought she was going to fall to pieces. The hair of his chest was abrading her sensitive nipples sending shocks across her body with every thrust of his body filling her, impacting with her clit and bringing her close to the edge.
She let the instinct to seek pleasure claim her mind. Spreading her legs to gain friction, arching her body in synchrony with his moves; her moaned mantra "Steven" suddenly dissolved in a cacophony of sobs, pleasure and moisture as she came. She grasped him desperately as she unconsciously left four thin scratches in the small of his back.
Steven had been watching her face as she came, glorying in her blissful expression and he was swept away by something too powerful. His eyes closed and he saw stars. For infinite seconds he just felt the sharp ecstasy as he spilled inside her welcomed warmth, his body shaking. He thought that he could be growling but he was not sure as he collapsed over her, trying to breath.
Her tired sweaty body was covered by an equally sweaty one; it was not crushing her, not yet and it felt good, right. Like a warm secure, well, sweaty blanket. She felt his hands holding her ass and back, the room gave a roll and then she was face down over a sweaty hairy chest. She looked up at him. Now was when the risk of an uncomfortable silence was hovering over them. He was dealing quite well with that, just looking quietly at her as he caressed leisurely her spine. She decided to follow his lead, no need for uncomfortable silences.
"You can stay?"
"Mh hmm" he nodded.
"Your crew doesn't get suspicious?"
He arched his eyebrows "You know how this goes, we are a family, a military family," he clarified. Then he added conspiratorially "Besides it's better for my crew if they keep their mouths quiet. You know, when I was on the way here, I saw Novak in the Gym. She was supposed to be training with Ronon Dex" he laughed lightly "I can tell you that whatever they were doing THAT was not self defense."
She laughed against his chest "There will be quite a few disappointed women and some men"
"Men? That's good," He became serious as he gently coaxed her chin so she faced him. "You know we have to be discrete, this relationship between us," he looked so vulnerable suddenly.
"So there is an 'us'," she said just to tease him
"I'm not a one night stand kind of man," he warned her.
"Neither am I," she whispered as she kissed him tenderly, as she moved to accommodate his body for sleep.
"We just have to be cautious, the regulations and rules."
He smiled as he heard her sleepy answer "Oh, screw the rules"