Nos Morituri

Sam isn't sure when nearly dying ceased to be exciting. Probably around her fifth year on SG-1, right around the time Daniel died the first time. But she's well and truly tired of it now. She's still out there fighting the good fight, doing what needs to be done, because she doesn't trust anyone else to do it. If she did, she'd walk out of Cheyenne Mountain and never look back.

So she tells herself.

Elizabeth Weir, though, she's not done almost dying. Sam can see it in her face, in the slump of her shoulders. She wants to go back, wants back in the fight. Watching Weir pick at her food on the other side of the mess, Sam imagines how she feels, imagines what it must have been like to be forced from Atlantis. By Ancients. Sam's convinced that they've never encountered a more self-absorbed, self-involved, uncaring…

At this point Sam likes Ba'al better than the Ancients.

Her own dinner is less than appetizing, and Sam picks up her tray, taking it to the return area before going over to the corner table where Weir is sitting. "Dr. Weir."

The other woman looks up at her. "Colonel."

"May I join you?"

"Of course." Sam takes the seat opposite hers and Weir says, "I thought you were calling me Elizabeth."

"Sorry. You called me 'colonel.'"

"Good point, Sam."

Sam smiles at her. "I was thinking about getting out of here and getting some real food. Would you like to join me?"

Clearly surprised by the invitation, Elizabeth looks at her for a moment before answering, "I would."

She'd been about to leave before deciding to grab dinner in the mess, so Sam's already back in her jeans, and Elizabeth doesn't have to change, which means they can head straight to the surface. They're halfway across the parking lot, when Sam remembers she rode her bike to work. "How do you feel about motorcycles?"

"Depends on the driver," Elizabeth answers, reminding her that while Elizabeth may look like a woman who doesn't take risks, she went on a one-way trip to another galaxy, willingly.

"I'm very reliable."

To her surprise, Elizabeth laughs. It's a nice laugh, not too high, and Sam smiles at the sound. "I'm sure you are."

She thinks maybe Elizabeth is flirting with her, but she isn't sure. "Italian okay with you? I'm in the mood for pasta."

"I've been known to appreciate a good red sauce."

Now she's sure Elizabeth is flirting with her, and she bends over a little more than necessary when getting her extra helmet. Elizabeth accepts it with a small smile. Sam is going to offer to help her tighten the straps but Elizabeth manages it easily, so Sam simply pulls on her own helmet and straddles the bike.

Elizabeth climbs on behind her, wrapping her arms around Sam's waist, and Sam starts the bike, feeling it come to life under her. She eases the bike forward, resisting the urge to go faster, to blow through the final checkpoint. Instead, she stops, shows him her ID, almost smiles. Elizabeth does the same behind her.

And then they're heading down the mountain, leaning into the turns.

Elizabeth is leaning with her and Sam takes the turns a little faster than she usually does, gratified when Elizabeth doesn't object, simply holding on a little tighter and leaning a little more.

***

It occurs to Sam when they're sitting looking at the wine list that maybe she should have thought this through a little more. She barely knows this woman and with the Stargate program not open for discussion in the middle of a busy restaurant, Sam has no idea what they'll talk about, what they might have in common.

"They have a nice selection," Elizabeth says. "Too bad you're driving."

Sam doesn't know a thing about wine. She generally sticks to zinfandels. They're fruity and innocuous. But she isn't surprised that Elizabeth knows about wine. "We can always buy a bottle and take it back to my place."

"Let's get two."

With two bottles of wine and two dinners to go stowed in the saddlebags, they start off again. Sam is tempted to take the long way home, up through the hills, but the food will get cold. On the other hand she has a microwave.

When Elizabeth's arms tighten around her waist, pressing her breasts into Sam's back, she turns toward the hills.

There is surprisingly little traffic, and Sam gives in to the feel of the road beneath her, letting its twists and rises guide her, reacting to its changes. Elizabeth is warm against her back, leaning when she leans, straightening when she straightens.

Sam drives until the sun is nearly down and her stomach is rumbling.

***

"Nice house," Elizabeth says when they step inside. She's looking around and Sam follows her gaze. Her home is neat, clean, unlived in. There is nothing of her here.

"Thank you."

She leads Elizabeth into the kitchen and places the food on the counter, opening a cupboard for plates. Elizabeth is still holding both wine bottles. "There are glasses in the dining room. I thought we'd eat there."

"Corkscrew?" Elizabeth asks. Opening a drawer, Sam hands her one and Elizabeth goes into the other room, still carrying both bottles.

Sam follows her a few minutes later, carrying their plates, silverware already tucked into the food. There's red sauce splattered on the inside of her microwave where she heated the full plates without wrapping them.

Elizabeth is sitting, sipping from her glass. She rises and takes one of the plates.

"Thanks," Sam says, her eyes going to the lit candles.

"There were matches in the hutch."

Sam nods and puts her plate in front of the seat closest to Elizabeth's. Sitting, she picks up her glass. The wine glasses had been her mother's. Elegant and graceful, like the rest of the house there is nothing of Sam in them, except for the tiny bit of her that still misses her mother. Taking a long drink of her wine, she looks up to find Elizabeth watching her.

"What do you think?"

"It's good." Sweet and smooth.

Elizabeth nods. "I thought we could both use something that goes down easily."

Sam can't help but laugh at that. "Wise choice."

They eat in silence for a few minutes, both concentrating on their food, although Elizabeth has already refilled both of their glasses. "You have to tell me your secret," Sam says when the edge has finally been taken off her hunger.

"My secret?" Elizabeth's eyes look bright in the candlelight, brighter than Sam has seen them before.

Sam takes another long drink of her wine. "How you managed not to kill McKay."

"Colonel Sheppard keeps the guns hidden."

Her laughter brings a smile to Elizabeth's face.

"Which is a shame because I could take him. Rodney's a terrible shot."

"Too bad he's so useful."

Elizabeth nods. "It is. Although there are days I feel that way about all of them."

"I know exactly what you mean. I love Daniel, but there are times when I could gleefully wring his neck."

"What about Teal'c?"

"It's hard to get angry at Teal'c."

"I imagine it would be. And Colonel Mitchell?"

Sam shakes her head. "He's enthusiastic. And he keeps losing his pants."

Elizabeth snorts, grabbing her napkin and covering her face.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were taking a drink," Sam says, reaching out to pat her back.

Waving her off, Elizabeth presses a hand to her chest, just above her breasts. "I'm fine. I take it the Colonel losing his pants is a good thing."

Sam shrugs. "He's got nice legs."

***

By the time they've moved on to the second bottle, they've both lost their shoes and are sitting on Sam's couch, legs pulled up in front of them.

"I feel out of place here, as if I don't belong."

Sam nods, because she understands. "My living room is kind of bland."

Elizabeth elbows her in the side.

"And you're not," Sam finishes.

She can see Elizabeth fighting a smile. "Thank you, Colonel. That's the nicest compliment I've had in a while."

"You're welcome." Her eyes are on Elizabeth's. The woman really does have the loveliest green eyes.

"I can see why Rodney is infatuated with you," Elizabeth says quietly. "Not only are you beautiful and smart, you save the world."

Not this time. For the first time, Sam thinks that this time they won't be saved. This time there won't be any last minute miracles, just a choice--death or subservience. Sam already knows which she'll choose.

Elizabeth tastes like the wine and she opens for Sam easily, a little impatiently, and Sam thinks maybe she should have moved sooner. It wasn't as if they both hadn't known where this was going. Elizabeth cups the back of Sam's neck with her hand, warming her and holding her in place. When she arches, deepening their kiss, Sam can feel Elizabeth's breasts against her chest, soft, yet still making a dent.

They make out on Sam's couch for a long time, every kiss a denial, a step away from who they are, from duty and responsibility. From doing what needs to be done.

When she can no longer keep her hands from seeking out Elizabeth's breasts, Sam stands and leads her to the bedroom.

She stares as Elizabeth undresses, because she hasn't been with a woman in longer than she wants to think about. Elizabeth is slender, but her breasts are full and high, and the patch of hair between her legs makes Sam want to drop to her knees. Before she can Elizabeth is tugging Sam's shirt over her head.

Elizabeth traces the skin above the cup of Sam's bra with her fingers, then presses a kiss to top of Sam's breast, rubbing her thumb across Sam's other nipple, making Sam gasp.

Sliding her hands around to Sam's back, Elizabeth neatly undoes her bra, sliding it from her shoulders. When they kiss this time, there is bare skin almost everywhere, and Sam can feel the firmness of Elizabeth's nipples where they press into her skin.

Sam fumbles with her jeans, finding it hard to concentrate when Elizabeth's kisses have turned hungry and her hands are moving just as hungrily over Sam's skin. She kicks off her jeans, but Elizabeth cups her through her panties.

"You're so wet."

Sam nods. The air is thick with the scent of arousal and she knows Elizabeth is as wet as she is. Elizabeth pushes them down, lowering herself along with the light blue cotton, until the panties are around Sam's ankles and Elizabeth is on her knees.

"You really are beautiful," she says, looking up at Sam.

She never knows what to say to that, so she doesn't say anything. Elizabeth traces a pattern across Sam's stomach, fingers trailing from her hips, up to her navel and then back down, sliding into her hair. Her touch is delicate but sure, and Sam is tempted to close her eyes, but she keeps them open, watching as her own hands slide into soft, dark hair.

Elizabeth parts her with a single finger, sliding it along Sam's cunt, and Sam moves her legs father apart.

But Elizabeth rises to her feet. "I think this would be easier on the bed."

Tugging back the sheets, Sam makes a space for them.

Lying down is good. Lying down is very, very good, especially when Elizabeth gasps and arches, reminding Sam how good it feels to make someone else feel good. She has Elizabeth's nipple in her mouth and her fingers are sliding back and forth in Elizabeth's folds. Elizabeth's leg is on Sam's hip and she has one of Sam's breasts in her hand.

Elizabeth tugs on her shoulder and Sam settles on top of her. Elizabeth is slightly smaller than she is, a little narrower, a little more slender, and that turns Sam on in ways she doesn't want to examine too closely, so she kisses the woman beneath her, kisses her and rocks her hips.

Somehow they find a rhythm that works and Sam is climbing higher, moving, pushing, seeking her own pleasure and Elizabeth's. Elizabeth is doing the same beneath her.

She feels Elizabeth come, feels the shudders that move through her, shaking them both, but she knows it wasn't enough when Elizabeth rolls her onto her back and slides down, between Sam's legs.

It wasn't enough for her either, but that's okay, because Sam knows how to get more.

***

Less than 48 hours later they're being sent off world again. Time and magical weapons wait for no one.

Elizabeth is in the gate room when they leave, standing beside Landry. Waiting at the bottom of the ramp, watching the gate turn, she can feel Elizabeth's eyes on her. If she closes her eyes, she can feel all the places Elizabeth has touched.

Sam wants to turn around, wants to drop her gun, cup Elizabeth's lovely face in her hands and kiss her until they're both panting.

The gate engages with its usual outburst.

Daniel on one side, Teal'c on the other, Sam takes a step, then another, until the wormhole closes around them.