Christmastime in the City

There was a small part of her that was troubled by this lack of decoration, but it was a very small part. The truth was, Elizabeth just could not fully get into the holiday spirit that year. She wasn't being a Scrooge and going "Bah, humbug!" everywhere by any means; she just wasn't feeling particularly jolly. She had the opportunity to take some leave and spend Christmas with her family on Earth—John and Teyla were more than capable of running the city in her absense—and given everything that had happened during the past few months, some felt a holiday was exactly what she needed.

And that was exactly the reason she passed on taking leave. After everything that had happened, spending the holiday season with her family and not being able to explain her mood or anything she had been through was the last thing she wanted. Sure, spending time with her family was something she usually looked forward to, just not now. She could not face the thought just then. So she went on with her work, going through the motions and hoping that the flatness of her mood did not dampen anyone else's spirits.

Of course, even putting on her professional front and going through the motions was not going to fool everyone. One evening, a few days before the feast, her doorbell chimed. It was John Sheppard, and he came bearing gifts; in this case eggnog and pudding and custard. She just smiled and stepped aside to let him in. John's late night visits to her quarters were a common occurance, and he was rarely empty-handed.

"Just thought I'd stop by and spread some Christmas cheer," he said brightly, setting the tray down on her bedside table.

"Thanks, John."

Perhaps her smile was a little too wan, perhaps her greeting just a little too dull. In any case, John picked up on her lack of enthusiasm. "Too much?" he asked gently.

"What?" she asked, momentarily confused. "Oh no, it's fine."

"Something's not," he pointed out in the same gentle tone. "Are you okay, Lizabeth?"

"I'm fine," she repeated in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "I'm just not feeling Christmassy tonight."

Normally John would pick up on her language and ask whether 'Christmassy' was a word, but this time he didn't. Instead, he looked closely at her. With an instinct borne from not just the professional relationship they had developed the past few years on Atlantis, but their personal, more intimate one as well, he asked, "It's not just tonight, is it?"

She just nodded, not surprised he'd been able to read her mood. "I haven't been able to get into the Christmas spirit this year," she admitted.

"Thought it might be something like that." He indicated the eggnog, pudding, and custard with a sweep of his hand. "And here I go bringing Christmas stuff here. I'll just go."

John went to pick up the tray, but Elizabeth put her hand on his arm. "No, please stay," she said softly. "I could use the company... and some cheering up."

"Are you sure?" he asked, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her head to look into her hazel eyes. "I can take the Christmas stuff away, if you want."

She smiled. and leaned in softly to kiss his lips. "No, that's okay. I can handle it. Just don't expect me to get all Christmassy."

This time he didn't disappoint. "Is that even a word?"

Ignoring the question, she turned to the tray he had brought in. "Do you want to do the honours, or shall I?"

"Let me," John poured her a glass of eggnog, then busied himself serving the pudding. "Custard?"

"Please." Raising her glass to her lips, she took a sip... and almost choked. "Whoa!"

"What?" he looked up at her. "Something wrong with the eggnog?"

"Not really. It's just strong, that's all. Someone was a little heavy with the brandy."

"Probably Major Lorne. He was the one I got the eggnog from. Said it was made just the way his mother made it."

"Remind me not to drink eggnog with his mother," Elizabeth said dryly.

Handing her a desert bowl with the pudding and custard, he took a sip from her eggnog rather than his own. "Mmm, I see what you mean."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you mind?"

He grinned. "No."

Not wanting to press her, John did not broach the subject of Christmas. Instead he chose innocent topics of conversation, not all of which required responses from her, but all designed to make her feel relaxed. It wasn't until much later, when they were sitting snuggled together on her bed, did he bring it up.

"So, can't get into the holiday spirit this year?"

Elizabeth stiffened slightly in his embrace, but his hand did not falter in its rhythmic stroking of her hair, and she soon relaxed again. She wasn't sure she wanted to get into it with him, she couldn't explain things to herself much less anyone else. But she trusted him, and maybe it would help just to talk.

"I don't know why," she began softly, nestling back against his chest. "I mean, Christmas doesn't usually bother me. In fact, I generally get into the whole Christmas thing. But this year, I don't know, it's like too much has happened and it's too soon."

"Is that why you chose to stay here instead of going home for the holidays?"

She nodded, her head bobbing against his shoulder. "I told you about my nanite-induced dreams, how they recreated home so perfectly that I had a hard time discerning the fantasy world from reality. Part of that was the fact that my mother was there. And she was so real, that part of me wanted to embrace her and that fantasy and stay there. I very nearly did. But it wasn't real. Not even her."

"Sounds to me like you'd benefit from seeing your mother and letting her take care of your for a bit."

"You're not the first person to raise that point," she said dryly, turning in his arms to face him. "The truth is, I'm not ready for that yet. I know I'm a little depressed, and Dr Heightmeyer says that's perfectly normal after what I've been through, but how can I explain that to Mom? Yes, she understands that my work is classified, but that's not the same. I guess I just couldn't face a home Christmas with all the trimmings just like the ones I used to know, and having to pretend everything is all right when it isn't."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Elizabeth pulled away from her lover so that she could fully turn to look at him. She read nothing but honesty and understanding in those hazel orbs.

"Hey," his tone gentle, John brushed her dark curls back from her face and cupped her cheek. "I know what it's like to want to hide from loved ones on holidays when things are bad. You don't want to bring anyone down. That's normal."

"Thank you."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "For what?"

She smiled as his thumb traced her lips. "For understanding." Leaning into his hand, her lips parted and her tongue darted out to capture that digit. He had opened his mouth to respond to his comment, but all that came out was a groan as she sucked his thumb into her mouth. His other hand trailed down her side to tighten on her hip, urging her to shift position. She did, moving to straddle his lap, all the while sucking gently on his thumb.

Groaning again, John slowly withdrew his thumb from her mouth, quickly sliding his hand behind her head and drawing her face to his before she could protest. He captured her lips in a passionate, yet gentle kiss, letting his other hand slide up under her top as she drew closer. Her hands linked around his neck and her mouth opened under his, respondind to kiss after kiss.

Just when she felt she would pass out from a growing lack of oxygen, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "Just so you know," he said, "I didn't come here just for that."

"I should hope not," Elizabeth said dryly, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I just worry about you, you know?" he leaned back to look at her intently, hazel eyes locked with hazel ones.

"I'm fine, John," she said softly. He gave her a look and opened his mouth to say something, she forestalled his comment by placing her fingers over his lips. "At least, I will be," she amended.

Kissing her fingers, he took her hand in his, pulling it away from his mouth. "Do you want me to stay?"

She smiled. They had been sleeping together for over ten months now, having taken that step the previous St Valentine's Day; yet he still asked her that every time. She liked that he didn't take their relationship for granted, but in all that time she had only turned him down the once, after the incident with the nanites. And even then he had turned up at her quarters shortly before dawn with some inate instinct that told him she wasn't doing okay and needed him. She had, too; letting him in despite earlier having told him that she wanted to be alone. Briefly she wondered what he was do if she jokingly tolf him "No." Probably accept it and leave with grace, hiding his disappointment to avoid pressuring or hurting her.

But she had no intention of doing that. Instead, she would answer him like she always did, with a kiss and a whispered, "Please."

Her eyes popped open in the darkness and she took a deep breath, feeling vaguely unsettled. It was just another dream, and, as usual, she could remember none of it. As if sensing her change in consciousness and mood, her lover rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, though he never woke up. She was glad. If he had awakened, he would want to know what had wakened her, of she'd had a bad dream. And she couldn't really say for sure that it was a bad one. She couldn't remember what it was; and she hadn't woken with a gasp of fright or anything like that. She was just unsettled. Yes, John would comfort her and tell her that he understood, but it would also increase his worry. She would rather not do that—he worried about her too much as it was, at least in her opinion.

Sighing, she settled back into his unconscious embrace, feeling his arms tighten around her, and closed her eyes. There was no going back to sleep for her tonight, she very rarely did when waking up like that. It was the perfect opportunity to get up and get some work done, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get out of bed without waking John as well. And that would lead to questions, and he wouldn't let her get away with working anyway. He'd make her go back to bed. At least this way he got some uninterrupted sleep.

Much to her surprise, she did go back to sleep. The next thing she knew, the pale rays of dawn's first light were filtering through her window, and she opened her eyes to find John looking down at her, a tender smile on his face. "Morning."

"Good morning," he replied, bending his head to give her a swift kiss.

He was still smiling at her. "What?" she asked self-consciously.

"Nothing. I just don't get the opportunity to watch you sleep very often. You usually wake up well before I do."

That was true. Elizabeth rarely (if ever) let herself sleep in. She always felt she had too much to do to give herself that luxury. And ever since she and John became involved there was a very good reason for getting up early...

... which brought her up short. "John..."

He knew what had shot through her mind. "Relax, it's still early. There's still plenty of time for me to leave undectected."

She did relax, but only slightly. It still ate at her that it had to be this way, but there was no way around it. And she knew that John did not like it.

And that gentleman was making his feelings on the subject known. Again. "I don't see why I have to sneak out of here like a criminal," he was saying. "It makes us look like we're ashamed to be together. I know I'm not ashamed to be with you, and I'm pretty sure you're not ashamed of me..."

"Only 'pretty sure'?" she interrupted, amused despite of the old argument.

He grinned briefly, but didn't let the interruption stop him. "I don't know who we think we're fooling anyway. I'm pretty sure we're an open secret around here, judging from the rumours that I sometimes hear."

"I've heard them too, There have been rumours about us before there was an 'us'." Elizabeth placed her fingers on his lips to forestall the argument. "But there's a difference between suspicion and rumours and proven facts. As long as no one can testify that they're actually seen us together, then nothing can be factually reported to the SGC or IOA. You know there are some members of the IOA who would love to see me replaced. And I know enough about Air Force regulations to know that you could get into a lot of trouble if this got out. So as much as I hate it, we need to be careful. Really careful."

"I know," he gave in with a sigh (as if there were any doubt that he would). Bending his head, he captured her lips again, this time in a thorough kiss. He plundered her mouth, his lips moving incessantly against hers until she opened them under the assault, granting access to his demanding tongue. Yet none of it was brutal; ut was almost a desperate passion, and she responded to it eagerly. Without disengaging from the kiss, John shifted so that he was lying across her, inserting one leg between hers, leaning his weight on his forearm to avoid squashing her. Not that she would have minded, she wrapped one arm around his back and tangled her other hand in his hair to hold him closer.

All too soon (it seemed) John broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. Once he regained his breath, he leaned back a bit. "We don't really have time for this, do we?"

Her reply was just as rueful. "Not really, no."

Sighing, he sat back. "Better not start something we can't finish. But one of these days we are going to take the time and stay in bed late. No rushing around."

She shot him an amused look. Sure, that was a nice thought, and she longed for a time when they could do that too; but as things stood, it was a pipe dream. The only way they could openly be together was if one of them was not in their current position on the Expedition team—and, ironically, if that were the case, then that person wouldn't be there. There were no simple solutions for the situation.

She voiced none of this to John, however. She just gave him a patient, "Yes, John."

He started to get dressed, and then paused. "There was one thing we didn't get to last night."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Not being in a Christmassy mood this year, are you even planning to go to the feast?"

She thought for a moment. "I should make an appearance," she decided finally. "Given that the whole thing was originally my idea. But I probably won't stay long. I don't think I could handle a sing-a-long this year."

"Fair enough. At least we won't have Rodney complaining that 'Winter Wonderland'. 'Let It Snow', and 'Jingle Bells' aren't Christmas songs."

"True." she smiled. Rodney McKay had taked advantage of the leave being offered and had gone to spend Christmas with his sister and her family, although with some reluctance (his new-found relationship with Jeannie was tenuous, what would Christmas dinner be like with a family of vegetarians, and so forth...). Finally, both Elizabeth and John put their foot down (feet down?) and told him to go. Facing a united front there that wouldn't back down, Rodney tried turning to Carson Beckett for help; only to strike out there as well. Not only was Carson encouraging his best friend to take the holiday, he himself was taking leave to go back to Earth and spend the holidays with Laura Cadman. Rodney had no choice but to give in.

"I wonder how Rodney's fairing with Jeannie and her family?" John was saying, shaking Elizabeth from her musings.

"I don't know," she replied. "But it's good for him to get to know her away from the distractions here."

"Yeah, it is. You should have seen how stunned she was to see the message that he had recorded for her. Heck, she was stunned that he had even thought to record a message for her."

He had finished dressing while he said all this, now he just stood there, looking down at Elizabeth. Normally she would get up when he did, but that morning she had chosen to stay in bed. No particular reason, she just felt like relaxing a little longer before getting up and showering. Of course, her being in bed with nothing but a sheet covering her provided John with a far more sseductive sight than she usually would of a morning; and it was testament to how relaxed she actually was that she wasn't more uncomfortable about that. Of course, if he kept looking at her like that, she would grow uncomfortable fast... or she would give into temptation and drag him back to bed with her. She might be the one insisting on being careful and inconspicuous, but that didn't mean that she liked it.

John seemed to realise where her thoughts were heading. He leaned down to give her a quick but thorough kiss. "I'd better go before I can't," he said when he pulled back. "I'll see you later."

The few days until the holiday feast passed all too quickly for Elizabeth. Suddenly the day of the feast was upon her, and she was no more mentally prepared for it than she was the night John came to ber quarters with the pudding and eggnog. For his part, John hadn't mentioned either Christmas or the holiday feast since that night; which she supposed added to her lack of mental preparedness. She seriously considered not going to the feast despite what she told John. She had meant it when she said she should put in an appearance as it had been her idea originally; but the thought of putting on a brave face, a mask of false cheerfulness so as to not bring anyone down at the party made her feel exhausted. She just did not think she could go through with it.

Her mood must have communicated itself to John, for he had stopped by her office that afternoon on the pretext of dropping a report off for her to read. "You okay, Lizabeth?" he asked after she thanked him, giving the report a cursory glance before placing it on the stack beside her laptop.

"I'm fine," she replied, knowing even as she spoke that she was unconvincing. "I'm just a little distracted today."

"I don't wonder," he sat on the corner of her desk, a comforting, familiar gesture. "You don't have to go tonight, you know. Not if you don't feel up to it."

"John..."

"I mean it," he insisted. "I know you think you should put in an appearance, but no one will hold it against you if you don't make it. I can easily come up with an excuse for you."

She raised an eyebrow. "And how is you making excuses for me in keeping with us being careful and keeping our relationship under the radar?"

"Lizabeth, I doubt anyone would think twice about it. Besides, Teyla's tactful enough to come up with something believable and discreet. But you shouldn't force yourself to try and have a good time if your heart isn't in it. It's not going to make you feel any better."

Elizabeth smiled wanly, marvelling again how intuitive John could be. "I'll think about it."

He smiled. "That's all anyone can ask. I'll see you tonight, either at the feast... or after."

She tried to concentrate on her work after John left, but found it hard to do so. She kept going back over her conversation with John and his offer to make excuses for her if she didn't attend the feast. It gave her the perfect excuse not to go, knowing that John and Teyla would cover for her should anyone ask; and she could not deny she had the urge to just curl up in her quarters and not infect anyone with her less-than-holiday mood.

But even as that thought occured to her, she realised that it was the coward's way out. And one thing she had always prided herself on was not giving in to fear—not in a negotiation, and not here in the Pegasus Galaxy. Even though her reason for not wanting to go to the feast had nothing to do with fear, the action of hiding away from a holiday was a cowardly one. And that was essentially what she was doing, no matter what excuse she made for her behaviour. She didn't have to stay at the feast for long. She could just put in an appearance, greet a few people, have a bite to eat, and then make a graceful and discreet exit before the inevitable sing-a-long started.

And after she left the feast she could make the preparations for the special Christmas surprise she had been thinking about for John. She may not be feeling the holiday spirit this year, but she still wanted to show her appreciation for her lover, a thank you for being there for her. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to avtually carry out this surprise, but it was the thought that countered.

Feeling somewhat rejuvinated once she finally made her decision, Elizabeth found that she was able to concentrate on her work; after all, the day-to-day running of Atlantis did not stop just because it was the holiday season.

John took a long sip of his beer as he gazed around the Mess Hall. It was a good turnout for the feast; and everyone seemed to be having a good time as they milled about, chatting while they made their selections from the buffet (an easier way to feed a crowd) or eating at the tables. But his gaze was restless, not stopping in any one place except to nod a greeting to anyone who met his gaze. He was looking for one person in particular; hoping she would turn up, but fearing she would be a no-show. In spite of telling her she didn't have to attend if she didn't feel up to it, he really wanted to see Elizabeth there. The change in setting (if not scenery) would do her good, even if it didn't manage to cheer her up. But the longer he looked and didn't see her, the more he realised that she wouldn't be there.

Sighing, he was just about to take another sip of beer when he heard a low, somewhat amused, familiar voice at his ear. "Looking for someone in particular?"

Startled, he turned to see Elizabeth standing right next to him, an amused expression on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Hey, Lizabeth. I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"I very nearly didn't," she admitted. "But then I realised that hiding away and being a Scrooge was the coward's way out, and I don't like thinking of myself as a coward. So I chose to bite the bullet and turn up."

John shook his head. "Lizabeth, you are many, many things, but one thing you are not is a coward. I won't let anyone even insinuate that, and that includes you."

Rather than argue, she chose to change the subject. "We're going to set the rumour mill alight tonight," she said ruefully. "We match."

He looked down, first at her blouse, and then at his shirt. She was right; they did match. Instead of wearing one of her usual red tops, she was wearing a soft green blouse in a material that he didn't even recognise let alone could name. The green was coincidentally the same shade as the shirt he had decided on wearing in deference to the Christmas holiday. They had dressed completely independantly, no knowledge of what the other had chosed to wear—he hadn't even been sure she was going to turn up! Yet he had no doubt that her statement was true; their matching tops will be seen as just another confirmation they were together, further fueling the rumour mill.

He chuckled. "Well, maybe we should mingle, and not add fuel to the fire."

She tilted her head to one side to look at him in that damned adorable way. "Maybe we should."

"By the way," he added. "I wasn't sure if you were actually going to make it, so I didn't bring your present with me. I'll bring it by later." The last he said in an undertone, as Major Lorne was coming up to greet them.

She barely had time to nod in acknowledgement before the major with the strong eggnog was upon them. Lorne even offered them a glass of said eggnog made "just the way Mom always made it"; and John saw that Elizabeth was hard-pressed to refuse gracefully without letting on that she had already tried the eggnog (after all, he was the one to acquire the eggnog the other night, and no one was supposed to know he spent most nights in her quarters). In the end, she didn't (or couldn't) refuse, and he had to suppress a chuckle when he saw her trying not to wince at the strength of the brandy. He, of course, had the perfect excuse for refusing—the half-empty bottle of beer he was nursing.

"It's... good," Elizabeth managed finally.

"Really?" the major pressed.

She cleared her throat. "Uh huh."

Satisfied, Lorne moved on and she discreetly swatted John in annoyance. "What?" he asked innocently. She rolled her eyes at him before leaving him to mingle. Taking another sip of his beer, he chuckled and did the same, moving off in the opposite direction so as to not cause more suspicion (though he still thought they were not fooling anybody).

After he had made his way around the Mess Hall greeting and chatting to various members of the expedition and Athosians in attendance, John saw that most of the people present were seated at the various tables. Quickly loading a plate with goodies, he made his way to an empty seat... which just happened to be next to Elizabeth. In the middle of an animated conversation with Teyla and Ronon, she barely turned her head to acknowledge him; but he felt her hand slip under the table to gently squeeze his thigh, so he knew she was glad he was there.

The evening passed quickly. The conversatons flowing around them kept Elizabeth engaged, and, for the most part, kept her spirits from falling too much. Whenever she seemed to be getting too morose, John would deftly turn the converstion in a different direction, shifting the focus from her and giving her a much needed break. This would earn him another grateful squeeze to the thigh, the only way she could discreetly show her gratitude. Of course, that had its drawbacks—namely that he could remember when she would squeeze this thighs under other circumstances, and he was hard pressed to stop his body from reacting in an inappropriate manner for the setting. Luckily, Elizabeth kept her hand in the same spot, not moving it further up or down, which lessened the impact somewhat.

Elizabeth had excused herself to go somewhere with Teyla at one point (John had no idea where, being engage in a rather lively argument with Ronon and Lorne at the time). When the inevitable sing-a-long started, he was not surprised that only Teyla had come back to the table. He knew she had intended to make a discreet exit before the singing, and was only glad she made it at all.

Elizabeth only felt mildly guilty when she used her command access code to let herself into John's quarters. It was not something she had ever done before, as all their trysts up to that point (their bedroom ones at least) had been in her quarters; but she knew he would be stopping here after the feast. He had virtually said so when he mentioned he didn't have her gift with him. Hence it was the perfect place to stage her surprise.

Once inside, she placed her pack on his bed and slowly exhaled. Right. First things first. She pulled John's Christmas present out of her pack and placed it on the bed, slightly off-centre, and then grabbed the pack and disappeared into the bathroom. She needed to get changed, there was no way she was wandering the halls of Atlantis in this particular outfit. As not everyone went to the feast there was no telling who she might have run into, and her outfit for the surprise would have taken some explaining.

After emerging from the bathroom, she arranged herself comfortable on the bed. Now all she had to do was wait.

John stayed at the feast until the end, sitting through the sing-a-long that seemed to cover every Christmas and holiday song imaginable—which included Halling's son, Jinto, remembering the version of 'Jingle Bells' that John recited the year before (the one his cousin had come up with once). He found that it was not as enjoyable as the previous year—not because he had become jaded (or more jaded), but because Elizabeth was not there to enjoy it with him. Not that he begrudged her choice to leave before the singing; but it just hadn't been the same. Especially when they sang 'Let It Snow'. That song was a particular favourite of Elizabeth's, and they had sung it when he walked her home from last year's feast. Not only that, but it had inspired him to kiss her for the first time.

Suddenly (illogically) desperate to see Elizabeth, he was tempted to go straight to her quarters; but as he didn't have her gift with him, he needed to stop by his quarters first. He was glad he did.

For sitting Indian-style in the middle of his bed was Elizabeth, dressed in a silk robe of a deep red, and smiling at him in a seductive manner. "Surprise," she said.

John swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. A surprise it certainly was. "I was just stopping in here to get your Christmas present," he said when he could finally speak.

"I know," she replied. "That's why I chose to stage your surprise here. Do you like it?"

"Uh huh," was all he managed as he tried to discreetly adjust himself.

When her smile turned into a cheeky grin that was somehow still seductive he knew he hadn't been successful. "What shall we do first?" she asked, casually uncrossing and re-crossing her legs, giving John the tiniest glimpse of what lay beneath her robe.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I think we'd better start with the presents. If I unwrap you now, we probably won't get to the presents before you have to skeddadle outta here tomorrow morning." This was said in a light tone, stating a fact rather than an accusation.

Elizabeth did not appear to mind what he said. She rose up on her knees on the bed and beckoned him with her finger, and he found himself obeying. When he was close enough, she reached out to grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him to her, her mouth suddenly capturing his. Their kiss was passionate and consuming, and all too soon John had to pull back to breathe. He found Elizabeth looking at him, her kiss-swollen lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"And if I told you I was planning to sleep in tomorrow morning? Here?"

John sucked in a breath. The implications of that were huge, but he found that he could not concentrate on that now, not with Elizabeth on her knees before him, toying with the belt on her robe.

He reached out to still her hands. "I stand by what I said." he whispered. "Presents now. Then I'll take my time unwrapping you."

Stepping back, John went to the built-in area that passed for a closet in Atlantis and emerged a moment later with a plainly-wrapped gift. Sitting on hte end of the bed, he handed it to Elizabeth. "Ladies first."

Settling back into her previous spot on the bed, Elizabeth carefully examined the gift before unwrapping it. Inside was a small box, hand-made and intricately carved. Lightly tracing the carvings on the lid, she glanced up at him, her smile finally reaching her eyes. "John, it's beautiful."

That gentleman shrugged. "I got it from an Athosian I'd been flying back and forth from the mainland for medical treatments. He insisted on giving me something for my troubles no matter how many times I told him it was no trouble. Finally I accepted the box because he told me that it would make the perfect gift for my 'lady'," he chuckled at Elizabeth's sudden blush. "I told you we weren't fooling anybody. That Athosian had only been here maybe a dozen times since they moved to the mainland and even he could see there was something between us,"

"He could have been talking in general terms rather than thinking of me in particular," she countered. "In any case, the Athosians are uncommonly observant and don't have to worry about regulations." Leaning over, she gave him a quick but tender kiss. "Thank you, John."

"There's more," he whispered against her lips. "Open the box."

Blinking, Elizabeth sat back to do just that. Taking the lid off, she saw that the box was lined with the softest leather and contained three necklaces (of a sort). Pulling one out, she saw that it was a long one made of finely plaited leather with a pendant hanging at the bottom. The pendant was made from a reddish-coloured stone with lighter markings on it, cut into a roughly oval shape and highly polished. Looking closely, she saw that one of the markings somewhat resembled a stylised (very stylised) cursive 'E'. Amused, she turned it over to see that one of the markings on the other side resembled a 'J' (or a lopsided 'U'). She looked up at him with an arched eyebrow.

John shrugged sheepishly. "I thought of you as soon as I saw it. The cord's long enough that you could wear it beneath your clothes and know one would know."

Elizabeth accepted this and slipped it over her head, the pendant immediately disappearing beneath the neck of her robe, making him swallow repeatedly. She then turned her attention to the other two 'necklaces' in the box. They were also made of finely plaited leather cords with highly polished stone (or mineral) pendants. John explained that the pendants were made from mineral fragments that were found on various missions that he would surreptitiously polish on overnight missions. The leather cords he had bartered for at a villiage during one of his missions (but he didn't tell her just what he bartered for them). One pendant was flat, roughly circular in shape and about half-an-inch thick, dark grey in color with an 'X' pattern in a brownish-pink colour almost covering the face of it. The other was an irregular shape, a very pale milky-blue in colour, with darker blue and blue-green accents.

"Thank you, John," Elizabeth again leaned over to kiss him, for longer this time. "I love them." Sitting back, she smirked. "Your turn now."

Wondering at the smirk on her face, John turned his attention to the misshapen present on the bed in front of him. It was beautifully wrapped, to be sure, but misshapen, giving him no clue as to what could possibly be inside. Shaking it heralded no clues either, that just earned him another arched eyebrow from Elizabeth. Grinning at her in return, he set about unwrapping the gift with gusto, well aware that he was acting like an excited child (he could see her shaking Elizabth head at him out of the corner of his eye).

His gift turned out to be an assortment of things: several packets of golf balls (always needed as he practiced his swing by hitting them into the ocean); some wax for his surfboard; a pick and new strings for his guitar; two Johnny Cash CDs that he didn't have...

"How did you get these?" he asked in amazement, looking at the CDs. "I could never find them anywhere, even online... When I was back on Earth, that is."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I got lucky. I knew you didn't have them, so I asked my mother to keep an eye out for them for me. She was able to get them and send them to me before Christmas."

"Thanks," it was his turn to lean over and give her a kiss—and in doing so saw that there was more underneath what he had already uncovered. "More?"

Sitting back, he pulled the remainder of his present from the paper. It looked to be a pile of T-shirts. He gave Elizabeth a quizzical look.

"Just look at them," was all she said.

He unfolded the top one (it was white) and laughed. In blue lettering, it read: "The only way to get rid of temptation—is to get rid of it!" Still chuckling, her set that aside to pick up the next one (black this time). This one read, "Hi! I'm the man your mother warned you about!" The third T-shirt (also black) had: "Conserve water! Shower with ME!"; the fourth (purple) had, "Lead me not into temptation—I can find it myself!"; the fifth (black again), "REMEMBER MY NAME... YOU'LL BE SCREAMING IT LATER!"; the sixth (white again), "Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't"; and the last one (another black) read, "A single a fact can ruin a good argument!"

Finally he looked up at Elizabeth. "Where did you get these?"

"Do you like them?"

"Of course I like them... don't know where I'd wear them, though. I just want to know where you got them."

"There's a little store in Colorado Springs that specialises in kitschy stuff like this. When I was on Earth waiting for the IOA to make up their minds about me, I was at loose ends, so the SGC's Chief Medical Officer, Dr Lam, took me shopping to get my mind off things. We found this store and spent ages in there. It's the perfect place for novelty gifts."

"I believe you," John put all the presents in a pile (Elizabeth's included) and placed them on a side table, and turned back to Elizabeth, pulling her up on her knees. "Now the presents are out of the way, it's time to unwrap you."

"Eager, are we?" she whispered, smiling against his mouth.

"Absolutely," he replied, his hands moving to the belt of her robe. "You've been torturing me in this ever since I found you in here."

"Torturing?" There was that raised eyebrow again.

"Okay, maybe 'tempting' is a better word..." he trailed off as his hands untied the belt and the robe fell open to reveal what was underneath. "Lizabeth, you're so beautiful!"

Underneath the silk robe, Elizabeth wore a silky negligee of the same deep red, that shimmered slightly in the light. Wordlessly he trailed his hands down her body from her shoulders to her thighs, planting gentle kisses along her jaw to her ear. Then, leaving one hand on her thigh, the skimmed the other up underneath the negligee... and groaned when he reached the junction of her legs.

"Torture is the right word," he murmured into her ear. "You're a very naughty girl, Lizabeth."