John and Elizabeth by SeptemberWriter
Summary: John and Elizabeth miss a de-briefing meeting.
Categories: Fanfiction Characters: None
Genres: Smut & Porn
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: Yes Word count: 5544 Read: 3934 Published: September 22, 2012 Updated: November 20, 2012

1. Chapter 1 - 'Lizabeth by SeptemberWriter

2. Chapter 2 - John by SeptemberWriter

3. Chapter 3 - P3X-339 by SeptemberWriter

4. Chapter 4 - ‘Lizabeth and John by SeptemberWriter

Chapter 1 - 'Lizabeth by SeptemberWriter
Chapter 1 – ‘Lizabeth

I‘m dreaming of him; I’m dreaming of the family we should have, all the happiness; all the noise: the giggling laughter, the shrieks, and the deafening silence. I sigh as I realize it’s not the right time, maybe something for the future. I turn away from them and look for him; I need to focus on him. He is far away, but I can hear him and I smile, knowing he will come closer.

“’Lizabeth”, he says quietly.

He sounds very far away, his voice soothes me. I close my eyes; a wave of, something, overwhelms me. I gasp the sheer delight of the sensation. “What is it?” I ask myself. “What is overwhelming me?” This feeling, this wave of deep pleasure, it is deep within me and I feel its warmth. “But”, I say to myself, “Breathe” I tell myself. “Breathe”. It will come soon enough.

“’Lizabeth” he says quietly, still far away from me.

I need him to be closer; there is something that is not quite right. What is it or who is it? The answer doesn’t come, I have no answer, I have no idea, but he should be closer to me, I should feel him breathing beside me, his breathing calms my mind. His warmth, his steady breath calms me.

There is still something not quite right, but what is it? Where are we, do we have privacy, is it just him and me? He is next to me and I put aside the uneasiness. We’re on a beach, the sun has retreated behind the hills, there are no clouds and the first stars are out. It is dark, but there are no stars, what do I see above me? There are no clouds, there is no breeze, and I still don’t see the stars. Maybe I’m not outside. A wave hits me; the wind is knocked out of me. I can’t breathe and a wave of nausea overwhelms me and I realize I am having a hard time focusing. I need to bring him closer to me.

“’Lizabeth”, he says quietly, his voice is low and hoarse as if he has been screaming, trying to prevent something from happening.

The wave is gone, I can breathe again, I feel better and I want to concentrate on him and lying on the beach with him. I smile to myself; there are no stars; there are no waves crashing against the beach; it truly is quiet and peaceful. I truly want to be on the beach with him, the sand still warm from the day’s heat, a cool breeze and absolute stillness. I want him to be along side of me, his face, and his lips just brushing gently across my cheeks. I hear him breathe, slow and steady, and I relax.

I can feel him now, he is lying against me; he is watching me and there is a small smile on his face. His eyes are twinkling in amusement. There is joy in his eyes and I hope his smile means he is glad to be next to me and I can ignore the deepening frown on his forehead.

We’re on the beach, lying on soft, thick beach towels. We’re wearing our swim suits; his swim trunks are a deep black. They are brand new; this is their first outing to the beach. There are bits of sand still on his chest, mixed in with his chest hair. I still don’t see his face too well, but I look into his eyes; green, no hazel with a solid dark green ring.

His body is resting comfortably next to me, his feet intertwined in mine. I feel his hand on my hip, his fingers stroking the length of my thigh, circling around my knee, bringing warmth to my skin, his hand moves to my thigh and back up to my hip. I shiver as he moves across my stomach; his palm gentle massages my belly, the warmth of his hand feels good. He shifts closer to me; his hand is resting on my belly, his fingers gently circling and stroking the scar on my shoulder. The scar is pink, slightly swollen, itchy, and ugly. It is a large scar and it took long time to heal. His calloused finger soothes the remains of the wound. Soon, it will be a white line with no swelling; it won’t be noticeable and I am hoping the nightmares about how I got the scar will go away.

He gently kisses me; his lips brush against mine; he kisses my neck, my breast. He shifts to be closer to me and his tongue starts to explore my scar; it must taste of salt from the beach; his mouth encircles the scar, gently kissing and sucking it. He presses his hardening erection against my lower thigh and I feel the rush of warm electric spasms inside me; my breath is raspier; my heart beginning to beat faster. His breathing is heavier and I can hear small grunts as he continues to press his penis against me.
He continues to move his hand down my belly; pushing my bathing suit down past my hips; I lift my bum and he pulls my bathing suit bottom off with his foot. He presses his palm against my pubic hair, letting his fingers swirl in and out of my curly hair. He moves his finger to my fold and spreads them gently to find my clitoris; his finger begins to move back and forth, circling around my clitoris. I moan softly and my breathing is heavier; my heart starts to pound in my ears; each time he circles, pressing hard against my clitoris. He presses his erection harder against my thigh; he thrusts 3 fingers into me and I gasp. He has done this before and my I arch my back with the familiar sensations. His fingers rapidly move inside and out of me; his thumb presses into my clitoris feeling its pulse; he presses harder and harder and does not release me; I cry out as the sensation explodes inside of me.

Gasping for air, I curl around him; my heart pounding. He brushes his wet fingers against my lips, kissing me softly while he shifts his body to be on top of me. His knees push my legs apart and he begins to rub against me in a small circular motion at first and then up and down. I feel his erection on my belly; with each thrust, I push his swim trunks down and away from his body. He lifts himself off me and I push his bathing suit past his hips, removing the last of it with my foot. He lowers himself onto me and presses the tip of his penis against my clitoris; I tilt my hips automatically and move my legs further apart. I can hear him breathing in my ear; deep ‘n dark breaths, afraid of something, afraid to let go of something. I work my hand in between our bodies and take his penis as it continues to push against my clitoris, letting it get covered in my wetness. He holds himself up on his elbows, not wanting to crush me. I guide his penis near my vagina; without warning he thrusts hard and deep into me and I gasp, I am tight and he barely fits inside me. He shifts his body and presses harder into me; his breathing is getting raspier. I hold him, keeping him firmly in me; he thrusts harder and deeper; harder and deeper; his breathe is short and hot; I hear him grunt with each thrust. There is no hesitancy, he is afraid, but this is all he knows right now. He controls the rhythm, going harder and faster with each breath. I am consumed by him as he arcs his back and thrusts into me as he climaxes. He groans and buries his face deep within my neck; his heart pounding, the sweat gathering between our bellies.
I feel him relax and gently kiss my neck; his fluids dripping out of my vagina; my clitoris still pulsating from his thrusts. I tighten and relax my vagina muscles around his penis, his whole body twitches. He gasps slightly as his penis continues to be stroked inside of me. “Don’t,” he says, “too much.” His penis slowly slides out of me, his breathing returns to normal as he continues to kiss my neck, my collarbone, my sternum, my belly, my pubic hair.

His hair falls forward tickling my check and he continues to breathe gently into my ear. His hair is drying, it starts to curl and I have an irresistible urge to touch it with my fingertips. I jerk awake, half-sitting sitting up.
“John,” I say “what’s going on?” My voice is dry, hoarse from the day’s events.
“Hey,” he says, “you’re back”.

I nod, hesitant. I look around; I can focus, I can see him clearly; he is fully dressed as am I. Confused, I look at him; I’m not at the beach; we’re in my room and he is sitting beside me on my bed; a look of confusion on his face. The lights are low and I hear the crash of the ocean outside my bedroom.

“We missed you at the de-brief meeting.” He points to the ear-piece sitting on the night table. “We couldn’t get a hold of you, so I came to see if you were all right.”

Nodding, I swing off my bed in the opposite direction of where he sitting. I walk around the bed to my night table and grab my ear-piece. “I’m fine, let’s go”, I say, not looking at him. I need to leave this room; I need the time to re-focus.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” I repeat and move closer to the door. He doesn’t move off my bed, but continues to stare at me. The realization hits me hard and a wave of nausea overcomes me. “How long have you’ve been in my quarters?” I ask.

He looks down at his boots. “About twenty minutes.” He pauses and says seriously. “I, ah, didn’t want to interrupt your dream.” He looks directly at me. “I know how tired you are; the past week hit us all pretty hard.” The tips of his ears are pink and his voice is unsure. “It sounded pretty good; it looked pretty intense.”

There is silence, I say nothing. “He must be one lucky guy.” He let his voice trail off to a quiet whisper.

Another wave of nausea hits me and I can feel the colour drain from my face. “Let’s go,” I say and head out the door.
Chapter 2 - John by SeptemberWriter
Chapter 2 – John

The door closes, Elizabeth is gone; her quarters are quiet and empty. The pit in my stomach hardens. I force myself to breathe, to regain control. I gulp in air, choking and forcing myself to
breathe.

“Count to ten, John.” I mutter to myself. “Count to ten!” I command. I stand and move towards the door; I hesitate and spin around. “John, get a hold!” I yell at myself. “Count to ten, count to
ten. It will be all right. Count to ten!”

I take three deep breaths and catch my reflection in her mirror. I stare at myself and scowl.

“One!”

“Damn it, John, what were you thinking?” I point at myself in her mirror and angrily take a swipe at myself.

“Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven!” My head feels like it’s ready to explode. “Jesus Christ, John.”

“Eight!”

“Nine!”

“Ten!”

“Fuck, now what are you goin’ to do?” I sink back onto her bed. “Way to go, John. Way to go. What are you goin’ to do, John?” I shake my head. “Idiot, you’re such an idiot, she’s never
going to forgive you.” I hang my head, my temples are pounding, I still can’t breathe, and I am so fucked.

I watched her. I wanted, want, to be a part of that; what she was dreaming. I groan and shake my head. It thrilled me to watch her, to listen to her breathing, to hear her soft moans; my entire
body responded to her and without even touching her, I was ready to explode when her hips arced.

I want to be inside her so badly; I want to be kissing her. I want my tongue to taste her, to explore her mouth, to feel her lips against mine. My stomach churns and my cock pulses as I
imagine what it would be like to be inside her; her warmth, the slight resistance as I enter her, and I exhale from the exhilaration of finely being a part of her. I want to explore her body with
my tongue, my lips. As I move inside her; gently thrusting and sensations build up in me; I want her to look at me and I want to feel connected to her. I want to feel her muscles contracting
against my cock. I want to press into her harder, faster, and realize my breathing is more erratic, more laboured.

I shake myself. “Wake up, John.” I’m warm, small beads of sweat have formed on my ass, my hips are gently thrusting and I can feel my erection pressing against my shorts. I focus on
imagining what it would be to touch her. I just want to touch her and I want her to touch me, to stroke my cheek, my chest, my stomach, and god, my cock. I want her to cup my cock into her
hands and slowly go up and down my shaft, massaging my pre-cum around; up and down, driving me, causing my heart to pound louder and louder.

I want her body against me. I want to touch her with my hands, my fingers. I want to press my stomach against hers and feel our body heat. I imagine what that would be like; I can feel her
against me right now; warm, soft, the smell of her sex with hints of the new shampoo she’s using. I smile as I can feel her wrapped around me, my hands feeling her shoulders, feeling her
back, feeling every muscle around her ribs with my thumbs. I want to feel the curve of her hips, her stomach, her thighs, and her ass.

My stomach trembles and I buckle under the sensations and fall further back on her bed. I can feel my cock subside, the fluids pooling and running down my ass. “Great.” I say to myself.
“Get up and dry yourself off.”

I go to the bathroom and quickly clean myself off. I am not satisfied. I look in the bathroom mirror, my eyes are hooded and dark, every muscle tense and ready to spring, to attack, and to
be angry. The same anger I saw in her eyes.

God, her reaction when she understood what had just happened; the look in her eyes, her mouth tightening, and lookin’ like she was going to be sick to her stomach; ready to scream. My
heart is still pounding; it feels like it is going to explode and I feel sick to my stomach.

“What are you going to do, or even, what are you going to say to her?” I mutter to myself. “I’m goin’ to wait for her, I will wait,” I say to myself, looking around her quarters. “Right here for
her.” I pause for a moment. “And then what?”

I throw the towel into the hamper. “Nothing, there isn’t anything I can say or do right now.” I sigh and look out her window to see the vast ocean. I close my eyes to steady myself and then
looking at myself in her mirror, I quickly turn and leave her quarters and turn towards mine. I weave down and around the various hallways and stairwells, not wanting to run into anyone; my
head, my heart, and my body still feel ready to explode.

“Sheppard to the control room; mission to P3X-339 is a go. Your mission is a go; your team is
waiting for you.”
End Notes:
Chapter 3
Chapter 3 - P3X-339 by SeptemberWriter
Chapter 3 - P3X-339

Sweat forms on John’s back; it dribbles all the way down his spine, catches in his ass and tickles it. His clothing sticks to him and as he moves around shaking off the effects of gate travel; each stride he takes is more uncomfortable than the last. He feels the sweat running down his nose and wipes it away with his shirt sleeve. He glances at Ronon. Ronon continues to grimace, his hands on his hips fighting for breath. As soon as they stepped through the gate, the force of the humidity hit him hard and for the moment or two it takes him to acclimatize it really looks like he’s going to puke. Rodney and Teyla continue to watch Ronon out of the corner of their eyes; humidity affects them all, but Ronon suffers the most. They could do nothing but wait for their friend.

John glances up in the direction of the sun; he estimates it’s around noon, maybe even a littler later but it definitely doesn’t feel like the hottest time of the day. “Great,” he mutters to himself. John surveys their surroundings, and all around him, the only thing he can see is a scorched planet. There are no signs of civilization, no buildings, no ancient ruins, no animals, no vegetation of any sort; just a colourful dessert composed of various shades of sand.

What he and his team have, however, on this planet is high heat and body drenching humidity. If they weren’t careful, they’d be looking at heat stroke and heat rash. The team continues to walk around the stargate, each of them looking at the other in dismay. Huge cloud formations amass above them and it less than one minute, they’re surrounded by a huge thunder and lightning storm. The rain starts immediately; pelting each of them with stinging pin pricks. The ground turns to mud; every possible colour of mud that they had ever seen: green, orange, black, grey, and brown and all the mud pooled and started to flow into different streams of viscosities.

“Anything?” John asks, continuing to survey the terrain before turning to each of his team members.

“Nothin’ here.” Rodney replies as he turns clockwise, holding the hand-held scanner still as he moves in a circle. “No energy readings.” Rodney’s scowl deepens as his frustration mounts; he stands still and then starts to rotate counter-clockwise, watching to see if the dials would reveal the direction of the energy source.

“I am not detecting wraith, Colonel Sheppard.” Teyla replies.

“Nothin’.” replies Ronon, kicking green sand. John watches the spray of sand land on a river of brown ooze and watches with apprehension as the green mud quickly sinks and the brown mud river continues to flow downstream.

Rodney snorts, “I don’t understand, where did it go? The MALP clearly picked up a distinct energy reading.”

“Probably had enough sense to stay out of the rain.” John sighs as he continues to look around. “Okay, Rodney you and Teyla head west, Ronon and I’ll head east. No more than 3 miles. If we can’t find anything, maybe we’ll head back and try to figure out what caused the MALP to give these kinds of readings. Maybe this planet doesn’t have anything for us.” The rain continued to pelt his face. John looks at each of his team members. “No more than two hours; there and back.”

“An umbrella would have been nice,” Rodney mutters. Teyla says nothing as she and Rodney turn west and start to crisscross and pick their way through the streams of mud.

John heads east; Ronon falls into step beside him. “We’ll need to set up camp before its dark and we’ll need to be out of this rain.”

“I know.” John says. He and Ronon cut across the swathes of mud; the rain continues to pelt them and the mud streams grow in size and speed. Over the course of the next hour, John grunts non-descriptive answers when Ronon says something to him; he’s not quite sure what Ronon has asked, but he really hopes that Ronon would leave him alone and just let him think. John still didn’t know which way his thoughts wanted to go; he blinks as he realizes he’s slipping and has to catch himself with Ronon’s help. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Ronon stares intently at John, tilting his head to one side before starting to walk on. “You gonna talk about what’s buggin’ you?”

“Nothin’ to talk about.” John falls into step with Ronon and concentrates on walking through the mud, ignoring Ronon. His mind goes back and forth and replays all the conversations he has had with Elizabeth over the past week. Besides work, they really hadn’t talked about anything. They had had a hard week – every team was off world exploring new planets; no one came home injured; he and his team had one minor trip to Teyla’s people new settlement and requests from Atlantis personnel that really amounted to nothing. He mutters to himself and replays the conversations, waving his hand dismissing each of them as he re-affirms they didn’t mean anything. Ronon half-turns and looks at John.

John glances at Ronon. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, just don’t get us killed because your mind isn’t on now.”

John grimaces, but doesn’t respond. He has no idea what to say or what he was trying to focus on, to think about, it’s all still too random. Silence, in this case, was definitely the only option. He and Ronon trudge on and are soaked to the skin when they reach the mid-point of their exploration. The sun has moved rapidly across the horizon and it’s already dipped below the hoodoos. The pelting rain turns into freezing rain.

“We need to get back,” Ronon says. John nods absently. John continues to work through the times he and Elizabeth met; whether alone or with other people; he couldn’t put his finger on it. He pauses for a moment, he can’t remember why he needed to see Elizabeth, nor could he explain why he needed to go to her quarters.

John looks up. “Yea, let’s head back and set up camp. It doesn’t look like we’re goin’ to get any days at the beach and this planet still looks like it got a whole lot of nothin’.” John turns and starts back to the rendezvous coordinates. Then a thought washes over him; what the hell? I didn’t need to go see her, she’s missed meetings before. He’s stumped; he knows he had sex fantasies about her, but that’s all they were, an easy picture to get his rocks off. If it turned out she was having erotic dreams as well, that was okay. He just didn’t know who she was fantasizing about. Probably her boyfriend; the one she left behind on earth.

John knew he had to do something; he knew he didn’t want to screw up their relationship. Not a relationship, he reminds himself. There is and has never been a relationship; it’s all in your head, it’s all context not substance. “Shut up,” he mutters to himself. The pit in his stomach grew; the whole relationship, he concludes, is only in his mind, there really isn’t anything there. John exhales sharply. “Fuck,” he mutters.
End Notes:
Chapter 4
Chapter 4 - ‘Lizabeth and John by SeptemberWriter
John steps through the gate and scans the room. Even though he hasn’t slept for three days and is chilled to the bone from incessant rain, sleet, and snow; he still managed to develop a newly formed opinion that he never, ever, wanted to see sand again; no matter where it is and no matter what it is next to. He continues to scan up and down the gate room; he needs to make sure everything is safe and secure. He glances up to Elizabeth’s office; dark. Clearly, no one’s waiting for him.

“De-briefing at ten hundred, Colonel Sheppard.”

John nods and waves to Chuck. He looks to his team members; they all look exhausted, cold, and thoroughly peeved. Peeved with the planet, the weather, the cold snapping winds, the sandstorms, and most importantly, peeved because they didn’t find the elusive energy signal the MALP continually teased them with. Rodney, altogether exhausted and dirty, starts to agitate with the thoughts of next steps and planning what his true mission is now that this off-world mission is officially, as he declared it before walking through the gate, a total bust. Protocols need to be followed, regardless of the discomfort or the agitated mental state of the team, and the driving need to know why they didn’t find any DHD source would have to wait a few more hours.

He grimaces slightly as he unloads his weapons and slings his knapsack under his arm. His muscles ache and he’s sure his knees are royally screwed from the number of falls he endured from the adventure on planet purgatory. He winces as he steps down from the stargate landing area; sand and streams of mud definitely have taken their toll on his knees. He heads off with Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon to secure the weapons and check in with Dr. Keller.

They make their way to the infirmary where they are summarily poked, prodded, and told to pee in cup. John silently endures the medical procedures; Keller falls silent as she realizes the team isn’t relaxed and definitely not feeling positive about the outcome of the mission. She finally nods and tells them all to go take a hot shower and get some sleep.

There is a sense of relief getting the all-clear from Dr. Keller. For John, it means he can separate himself from his team and think. Rodney waves good-bye and takes off like a rabbit. John hears him swearing as he races down the hallway. John pities Zelinka and the rest of Rodney’s team. John makes a mental note to avoid the science lab for the next day or two; he really doesn’t want or need to see the science team come to near blows, or real blows for that matter, as they “resolve this little item”. Everyone on the science team, John knows from experience, is going to be as agitated as Rodney and he also knows what words Rodney uses to fuel the fire when something wrong has happened. His logic is simple: something has failed and the failure is technical; the technical failure reflects poorly on them; and, more importantly, it reflects poorly on Rodney. Silence will descend from there and come hell or high water, Rodney will find the answer and god help if it’s any person on his team who’s at fault.

Saying good night to Teyla and Ronon, John wants nothing more than a hot shower and his bed; a clean warm blanket; peace and quiet; no one snoring or snorting in their sleep. He glances at his watch; figuring the meeting at ten hundred will give him enough time to get cleaned up, get some sleep, and to think with a clearer head. He confirms to himself that he will talk to Elizabeth, but later, when he’s in a better mood and when he has had the chance to get rid of all the sand that is currently sticking to him. He could feel it caked on everywhere; his hair, eyes, mouth, armpits, and well everywhere.

Reaching his quarters, John ignores the light switch; stands in the dark and peels off his caked-on, mud splattered clothing. Nearly naked, his begins to feel less constrained and feels he can almost breathe again. Socks off and naked, he steps into the shower, letting the water fall over him and lets it wash away the last three days. He deliberately avoids thinking; not even two words and he commands himself to be quiet. “Tomorrow,” he repeats to himself. “Right now, you need to get dry, put on a clean pair of boxers and hit the sack.” John flops on his bed and with the heaviest of sighs drifts off to sleep.

“John,” a voice murmurs.

The voice is warm and soothing; it comforts me. I breathe in and recognize her scent. “I don’t want to do this right now,” I plead. “Lizabeth, I’m tired, I still don’t know what I want to say. I’m not ready to do this.”

“Do what?” she asks, slipping into bed beside me. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.” She nuzzles closer to me, resting her hand on my stomach. “You smell good,” she says. Gently, she starts to kiss my chest, small delicate kisses that barely touch my skin. Her fingers begin to gently stroke my stomach, circling around and around.

I press her closer. “Sleep, can’t we just sleep?”

“Yes,” she says holding me close. I can hear her breathing slow; her hair tickles me him as I match her breathing. We’re breathing the same: slowly and deeply. I stroke her hair in rhythm to our breathing and my hand intertwines with hers.

I’m watching her, I know I am dreaming. She has a beautiful smile; I want to be a part of what she was dreaming as she laughs. Not the laugh itself but the way her eyes twinkle in sheer delight as she arcs her eyebrow. Her eyes reverberate in sheer joy and in life itself; I can hear myself moan and shake my head. It thrills me to watch her, to listen to her breathing, to know she is here with me. My body tingles and responds to her. Her hips slowly swivel against me; there is a growing heat in my groin; my cock starts to throb as I release it from my shorts. She continues to press and bury her head against me, kissing and licking me, my nipple, and the ragged scar under my collar bone.

She murmurs something and I know I am lost; the sensation in my cock grows, I can feel it pulsating. Soon, I know I will want to be inside her; I bring her fingers up to my mouth and start to kiss each fingertip. My tongue lightly tastes the palm of her hand, her wrist, and I circle around one of her scars near her forearm. When there is time, we will have to explore all the scars, hear their stories, and feel the triumph of surviving.

I turn on my side, my cock pressed against her thigh; her uniform is rough and provides necessary friction, but it is cold. I move to explore her mouth with my tongue, I can feel her lips against mine; they are soft and exquisite. I slide her pants off, her flesh is pressed against me warm and radiating heat. My stomach flip-flops and my cock is almost ready and pulses strongly as I imagine what it would be like to be insider her. I flip on top of her and guide my cock to her opening; she arcs her hips and wraps her legs around my waist. I am almost in her, there is resistance as I enter her; she is tight, but wet. I slide in her and exhale from the exhilaration of feeling her; the warmth; the fit of my cock insider her. I rest my elbows against her, but she moves my arms up and my weight is fully against her. I bury my mouth into her neck and suck gently. I move inside her; gently thrusting and the tingling sensations build; I look at her, her eyes closed as she rocks gently back and forth with me. I feel connected to her; I feel her muscles contracting against my cock. I press harder and faster in her; my breathing is more erratic, more laboured; sweat builds on my ass. The friction builds and I gasp as I arc and feel the shockwave move through me. I buckle under the sensations and fall back onto my bed; my cock slips out still half-hard. She gasps; my cock subsides.

“John.” The voice persists.

I bolt out of bed, reaching for my P90, realizing too late I’m in my quarters; there are no weapons within easy reach. I look at her, confused. “How long have you been here?” I ask.

She points to the bottle of Athosian wine. “Not long, I helped myself to a glass.” Her eyebrow arcs and she smiles mischievously, “I didn’t have the heart to wake you. John, but I think we should talk.”
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