DISCLAIMER: Don’t own the characters, the shows or …well anything.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So one day, I got bored, and I begged people for prompts and valeria_sg_1 came up with this “Elizabeth/Aeryn: Prowler maintenance.” And it took me FOREVER to finish it, but I did and here it is. This is unbeta’d and my first foray into Sci-fi fandom fic (yes, I’m branching out…speeding along the road to “Special Hell”) So posting is probably not a good idea, but hey, it beats reading for my thesis!!
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By racethewind10


Elizabeth couldn't sleep. It didn't matter that there were at least 40 hours before they were even due for their first check in; the waiting was always hard. She never spoke of it with John, though she had a feeling he knew – everyone else seemed to.

Lorne had been the only one brave enough to tease her about it, and as annoyed as she had tried to be, she could have hugged him: not for the joke, but for the quiet understanding she saw in his eyes. She saw it too in the faces of the nightshift, when the team was gone and she prowled her office and the gate room – like now- unable to sleep.

She'd fought against it at first; battled against showing the feeling – trying to act strong for her people – until she slowly began to realize they didn't see it as weakness.

"It shows them that you truly care," Teyla had said simply when Elizabeth had asked her about it in one of their too rare conversations about everything and nothing.

And so she no longer tried as much to hide on those long nights when the 'might be' kept her up. Like this night.

Unable to stay still any longer, the Atlantean leader pushed back the covers and pulled a worn pair of jeans on below one of her omnipresent red shirts, and - still in bare feet - walked out of her quarters.

As much as she hated nights like these, she loved to walk the corridors of her city. The floors of Atlantis were never truly cold. She could have asked Rodney why; it most likely having something to do with the metal composition or a simple heating system, but she found she didn't care. If she didn't know for sure, then she could pretend that Atlantis liked to feel close to those who lived there, and welcomed the touch of bare feet over hard boot soles.

She never had a conscious direction those nights when she went wandering – she just followed her feet, surrounded by her city, drawing comfort from its enduring grandeur.

Elizabeth wasn't surprised when she found herself in the Gateroom, but beyond nodding absently to the night crew, she felt no desire to stop here, and so kept following her feet…up. She walked past her office and up the stairs, until she stood at the door to the highest place in her home.

The night lighting in Atlantis' cavernous jumper bay cast eerie shadows around the edges of the vaulted room. The small, sturdy jumpers were tucked away, almost like children in their beds. Much to John's dismay, Elizabeth had never truly developed what he felt was an adequate appreciation for these wonderful little craft. They had shared many a good natured argument over their gate ships where she tried - inevitably in vain - to make him understand that she did appreciate them, she just wished they looked a little more, well, impressive.

Yes, that's right. Dr. Elizabeth Weir, had a thing for fighter jets.

Though she abhorred the need for their existence, those great, metal raptors had always fascinated her – with their powerful, almost cruel design and the complexity of engineering that went into them – they always drew her eye and made her heart beat just a little faster.

Though the reliable, versatile little puddle jumpers never drew such a response from her, the other craft currently occupying the jumper bay had no such failings.

Despite its position in the middle of the hangar, the sleek, lethal looking craft seemed to gather the shadows to it; beckoning them as kindred spirits and whispering deadly promises.

This craft didn't just make her heart beat faster, it stole her breath and made her whole body tighten.

But then again, that might also have something to do with its pilot.

The only living thing in this place of metal and half – light was the Prowler's pilot, currently visible only as a darker, moving shadow sliding around her craft.

Like the living manifestation of night herself in her black leather and midnight hair and a piercing gaze the color of the Lantean sky, Officer Aeryn Sun could be described with the same adjectives as her ship: sleek, beautiful, lethal.

"Dr Weir." The woman said, her voice giving Elizabeth's title an edge and a power she had never heard from anyone else.

It sent a delicious shiver down the leader's spine.

Lost in her musings, Elizabeth had approached the Prowler and now stood within reach of the deadly craft.

Detaching herself from the darkness around her fighter, Aeryn stalked closer to the Atlantis leader, and as always, Elizabeth felt caught by that faceted stare.

She had been struck by the woman from the first moment they met. More than just her physical resemblance to Vala and her unusual arrival, the very aura of power and danger that surrounded her drew Elizabeth.

In the middle of the chaos that surrounded the wormhole opening and the arrival of Officer Sun and her co – pilot, the man she called Crichton, but who was actually John Crichton, lost astronaut from earth, Elizabeth had been unable to take her eyes off Aeryn.

She had much of Teyla's calm certainty about things, but there was a passion and a danger lurking behind Aeryn's eyes that Elizabeth never saw in her best friend.

No longer able to resist the impulse, Elizabeth reached out and brushed the Prowler with the tips of her fingers. The alloy had a hint of warmth to it even now, as if it weren't so much a machine as a living entity.

"What were you doing to it?" she found herself asking, unable to stop looking at the contrast of her pale skin against the night dark hull.

"Just maintenance," replied Sun with a weariness and tension to her voice that belied her collected façade.

"Would you show me?" Elizabeth found herself asking as she finally turned her gaze to the woman beside her.

She wasn't sure who was more surprised when Aeryn said yes.

Anything for a distraction I guess.

And so a time passed with Aeryn giving Elizabeth a basic lesson in Prowler mechanics and piloting. Above and beyond the Officer's intoxicating presence, Elizabeth was genuinely fascinated by the lethal craft. A true masterpiece of engineering, it was as sleek and purpose-built inside the cockpit as well as out.

One thing became perfectly clear as the lesson went on however, and that was the complete lack of any kind of need for maintenance. The Prowler was in perfect condition. When Elizabeth pointed this out, she received a wicked grin.

"It was either this, or go and find some more of your lovely Marines to spar with. They were so wonderfully helpful the last time I needed to take the edge off. How is Major Lorne, by the way?"

Elizabeth smiled at the evil twinkle that glittered in Aeryn's eye.

"He said you've proven his theory that tall, attractive, dark haired women in any galaxy will be able to defend themselves quite well."

At the Officer's gently raised eyebrow, Elizabeth briefly considered explaining - realized that the woman before her was about as close to Vala personality-wise as the puddle jumpers were to the Prowler, figured Aeryn wouldn't really see the humor in the situation - and gave it up as a bad job.

So she settled for, "Long story."

That earned her another raised eyebrow before the dark woman seemed to shut down, and withdraw inward.

"Aeryn," Elizabeth spoke, then faltered, and the name hung between them in the dark, echoing space. Sun's head snapped up, and Weir nearly gasped at the intensity burning in the other woman's fathomless eyes.

It was like being caught in the stare of a jungle predator, and yet, strangely, Elizabeth felt no fear.

As a negotiator, and then an expedition leader, Elizabeth had grown used to the waiting – that terrible limbo where time crawled along while you waited for word of the men and women you sent out into danger. She knew that she would never be comfortable with it, nor should she be, but there was a kind of cruel familiarity to the stretching of time at these moments for Elizabeth.

For Aeryn, an Officer, a fighter pilot, and a warrior member of a small crew, being left behind must amount to Hell, pure and simple.

That electricity; the power and rage that lay behind her eyes wasn't directed at Elizabeth, and Weir knew it. More than that, she understood it; it was the echo of the anguish she felt every time John and his team stepped through the gate.

"They'll be back," she found herself whispering.

"I know." Aeryn's voice was hard and sharp.

"It doesn't help does it?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"No." the growled admission cost the Officer and she turned away from the Lantean leader and slammed her fist into her Prowler. Her whole body showed the cutting lines of her tension and frustration.

Somewhere, later, Elizabeth would realize that she had simply meant to lay her hand on Aeryn's arm – a comforting, meaningless gesture. Somehow though, the dark woman turned toward her and seemingly without conscious direction, Elizabeth's hand was cupping her cheek, sliding her thumb across pale, satin skin and watching – as if from a distance – the heat of Aeryn's eyes flare.

Time, ever fickle in these moments, seemed to pause and take notice of the pair, and the moment stretched, creating a tiny infinity of uncertainty and possibility.

Aeryn Sun however, was not one to bow to time or question her desires. The woman in front of her had drawn her from the first. With her jewel toned forest eyes and her aura of warmth and quiet strength, her presence was both soothing and arousing to Aeryn's restless soul.

The burden of waiting is always lighter if it is shared.

She had no idea where she'd heard that bit of wisdom, probably Zhaan, but as Elizabeth's thumb ghosted across her lips and she watched the sparkling green bleed to black in the Lantean's eyes, Aeryn no longer cared.

With the surety and primal instinct of the hunter she was, Aeryn turned her lips to Elizabeth's palm and kissed it, and when Weir gave a tiny gasp and her eyes fluttered, Sun used the moment to take the hand on her cheek and pull Elizabeth against her body and push her up against the Prowler.

Elizabeth's heart raced at the sudden heat in Aeryn's eyes, and when the dark woman turned to press soft lips against her palm, she was unable to help her body's primitive desire to surrender to the powerful lust she saw burning in the other woman's gaze.

Her eyes fluttered and her knees went weak, and in that moment, she was suddenly pressed bodily against the Prowler. A tiny moan escaped her at the feeling of Aeryn's lean body against her, and when the warrior slid a toned thigh between legs, Elizabeth's breath caught at the excruciating pleasure that shot from her core, through her blood like lightening.

Like electricity, it shocked her from her passive state. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Aeryn, sliding the tie from her hair and fisting her hands in the glorious raven colored mass. With a surety and a ferocity driven by a desperate need, she pulled the Officer to her and was rewarded as Aeryn's mouth covered hers.

It wasn't gentle.

Elizabeth parted her mouth and Aeryn's tongue dueled with hers. Hands roamed and hips rocked against each other as the two women gave themselves over to the most ancient of all desires.

Aeryn quickly took the lead and Elizabeth let her, drinking the powerful woman down – needing her in a mindless, animal way that would have shocked her if she had been capable of analyzing it.

Just as the Lantean leader managed to figure out how to remove Aeryn's shirt, the officer pulled back from the kiss, licking and nipping along Elizabeth's jaw and down her neck. A low, throaty growl was Elizabeth's only warning before the dark woman pulled aside her shirt and bit her where her neck met her shoulder.

It tore a low cry from the leader and her knees buckled.

Only Aeryn's strong arms around her waist stalled her fall, but Elizabeth took advantage of the moment to pull Aeryn down with her. The tumble was controlled, but only barely. With a quick twist, Sun rolled them under the shadow of her Prowler until she was on top of the Lantean, straddling her.

With a fighter's efficiency, she stripped the captive woman of her shirt to reveal pale skin and soft curves.

In the dark space, eerily back lit by the dim light of the jumper bay, Aeryn's eyes seemed to glow, and the effect took what was left of Weir's breath away.

Something, some unidentifiable emotion, slid behind that electric gaze, and when she bent to kiss Elizabeth again, Aeryn's touch was slow and gentle. Their earlier frenzy bled surely to a kind of lazy hunger, each needing the other, but content to explore and discover instead of devour. Elizabeth had had female lovers before; not often, but a few. They had always been singular and memorable.

Being with Aeryn eclipsed them all.

Behind the soft caresses to her breasts, her ribs, her belly; beneath the kisses and nips and the molten touch of her mouth on Elizabeth's body was a power and a fire that called to something buried deeply in the Lantean leader; called to it, and made it sing.

Her body may have been the recipient of the Officer's heated touch, but it was Elizabeth's soul that was burning.

That touch was driving her fast to the brink of oblivion though, and she could only hold on weakly and try to assist as Aeryn unfastened her pants and slid them down her legs and away. The hard, warm floor of the jumper bay, the blackness of the Prowler above her, everything was driven back from her awareness as Aeryn reclaimed her mouth and her hands started a slow, teasing journey up the inside of Elizabeth's legs.

Trying desperately to keep control, the Lantean moved to unfasten Aeryn's shirt until a low, powerful humm and the first teasing touch of fingers at her core stopped her.

Like a hunting cat with her prey Aeryn toyed with Elizabeth, stroking her lightly, offering relief with a parting finger only to take it away as her mouth made languid trails across Elizabeth's upper body. Elizabeth thrashed her head, her breathing ragged and hoarse. But each time she reached for her dark tormentor, she was denied, until her entire world was the ache inside her and that sure, devastating touch.

There was no warning when Aeryn finally took her: there was only the sensation of another person inside her, of questing fingers seeking and stroking and finding the places that threw her toward her release; of a tongue in her mouth and the weight of a lean body pressing her down, pressing into her and driving her upward.

Her release, when it came, was blinding; fracturing reality for that one perfect, eternal second. Aeryn's fingers moved deep within – drawing it out as long as she could, but Elizabeth's body eventually reclaimed its hold on mind, and as the Officer gently withdrew, trailing kisses along Elizabeth's jaw and lips, the Lantean was pulled - on the tether of physical sensation - back to herself.

She was naked, panting and flushed, on the floor of the jumper bay, with Aeryn pressed along her, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. Her body tingled, and for the first time in ages Elizabeth felt calm, sated. Stretched out in the shadow of the deadly craft with a dangerous warrior on top of her, Elizabeth felt, beyond all reason, safe.

But there was still something she needed to do.

Aeryn read the hunger in her eyes and that huntress smile returned.

Before Elizabeth could move however, soft fingers touched her lips.

"Not here. I want to be with you tonight…all the night."

The request warmed the Lantean's heart, making it beat faster and she nodded.

Quietly, Aeryn helped her redress and the two women left the jumper bay, passing the yawning night crew in the gate room and finally entering Elizabeth's quarters, where, to her joy, Aeryn gave herself over to the leader's touch, and the hours passed warm and quick in each other's arms.

The morning sun was just beginning to paint the room in subtle hues when Elizabeth woke.

She was warm and comfortable; her cheek wresting on Aeryn's chest and their legs entwined. Raising her head she was greeted by eyes the color of the ocean outside her window.

"Good morning."

Elizabeth smiled at the gentleness in the normally rough voice. For one beautiful instant she allowed herself to be just a woman: a woman in the arms of a lover after an incredible night of passion and comfort.

Just as the sun didn't slow its inexorable march across the sky, however, Elizabeth couldn't stop the doubt and worry and fear about her people from creeping into her mind. It was her nature, and her burden to bear.

This time however, she wasn't alone.

A soft touch startled her from her thoughts.

"They will return." This time Aeryn was the one offering assurance.

"I know, it's just… John is so good at getting into trouble."

A small wry smile. "So is Crighton, but he always manages to get out of it again. Though I have had to go drag his ass out of prison a few times."

Elizabeth couldn't help but smirk.

"Two Johns. This is a recipe for disaster," she groaned, burying her head in Aeryn's shoulder.

"Perhaps, but D'Argo and Ronon seemed to be enjoying each other's company."

Weir snorted inelegantly at the memory of the two massive warriors meeting. That was going on her top ten memories of all time.

"They will return Elizabeth."

"I know. They have to…because I don't know what I'd do without John," she whispered, finally giving voice to the dark shadow that stalked her nightmares.

Aeryn's only response was to hold her tighter and kiss her gently.

Outside the window, the sun dawned fully and a new day was born. Inside, the two women showered, dressed and prepared for a new day. A day of waiting, of hoping and in Elizabeth's case (and Aeryn's - though she would never admit it) of worrying. It was a day of silent burdens, but burdens made lighter for the sharing.

The End

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