FANCY ALIEN ELEVATORS CAN BE DANGEROUS

A/N: please read

Title: Fancy Alien Elevators Can Be Dangerous (T version)

Summary: The Atlantis Expedition is having a party, and Jennifer wants to go. However, she gets trapped in the transporter with a bottle of Tequila, a bag of Cheetos, and certain Lt. Colonel of messy hair.

Genre: Romance, humor

Season/episode: SG: Atlantis post season 5

Spoilers: Stargate movie, Stargate: SG1 (all seasons and movie), and SG: Atlantis (all seasons)

Pairing: John Sheppard/Jennifer Keller. Past Jennifer Keller/Rodney McKay

Rating: T

Warnings: Sexual situations, alcohol use

Disclaimer: Read profile

Acknowledgements: This story was inspired by "Tequila and Cheetos" by MissJeeve that can be found in AO3 (archiveofourown dot /works /155347). It's written to be a sequel, and therefore the events of her story match what happens in the first chapter. It's, however, written from Keller's POV of the story ("Tequila and Cheetos" showed Sheppard's POV) and the underlined dialogue matches her story.

From chapter 2 to the end, the story is a sequel that follows with what happened after.

Thanks to Amycat8733 for beta-reading this story for me.

Comments: There is a M version of this story here (go to my profile), and in my AO3 account (archiveofourown dot /works /1679162 /chapters /3567338).

FANCY ALIEN ELEVATORS CAN BE DANGEROUS

Chapter 1: Trapped and drunk

Once the expedition returned to Pegasus, after saving Earth from the Wraith, they have soon started to reestablish their commercial relationships with different people of the galaxy, including but not only Athos, to ensure their supplies of food, plants to manufacture drugs, and other necessities.

Halling had introduced them to a new group of people they have recently meet, and that for some reason gifted with alcohol their new trading partners to celebrate the first deal made. The Sicelons – or Sicilians, like most people had started calling them – were in need of medical attention to fight something similar to the flu, and in exchange the expedition had gotten a good supply of fresh fruit. Deal made, they had presented the expedition with massive amounts of alcohol, remarkably similar to Vodka, as a gift.

The expedition had been under a lot of stress, and someone had decided that they needed a party to improve the morale of everyone, and so the Sicelon Vodka had ran freely accompanied by music.

Everyone thought that one of the scientists had saved the liquor from Woolsey's excuse of safety tests' to make it disappear. However, Jennifer had a different theory. She had seen General O'Neill, who was visiting the expedition to "make sure they had returned safely to Pegasus and Sheppard was keeping the city and himself in one piece", commiserating with Lorne. An excuse to visit the city and the galaxy. The man was a true explorer and couldn't pass the opportunity to visit their fair Galaxy again now that they were once again properly settled in. She was convinced he had been the one to suggest the improve-the-morale-of-the-expedition-party, and so he had hidden the alcohol and then provided it as soon as the music started.

Jennifer had to agree with the General. They needed a party and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. At least, she did after her relationship with Rodney ended.

During their time on Earth, their relationship had deteriorated steadily. They had discovered they were very similar and yet very different, in all the worst possible ways. They had finally given up the day Atlantis had flown back to Pegasus two months ago. Now, Jennifer felt good and happy with her decision. It had hurt at the time, but she had moved on quite easily, which was probably a sign that their relationship hadn't been as satisfying for her as it should have. She refused to dwell on that today. Rodney, however, seemed to take the break up worse than she did, he was acting angry towards her, and he didn't want to be friends with her. Jennifer was hurt. She considered him a good man and a good friend, and while she didn't want to continue their relationship, she wanted to be friends with him. The tension was getting to her, though, and this party and the alcohol had sounded like a blessing.

Grateful for the party, she had dug her favorite top and short skirt out of her drawer where they had been unused since she left college behind – at least it felt that way – and she had gone to the party ready to drink, dance, and go a little crazy. She deserved it, and she needed it. Sadly, the doctor, her bottle of tequila, and her bag of Cheetos had ended trapped in a transporter when it had refused to open its door for her.

"There goes the party," the disheartened doctor complained to the empty transporter. She cursed the Ancients because they didn't install some kind of manual way to open the door as a safety precaution, the technicians because she was sure they had touched something they shouldn't have, and the more tequila she drank the more people she cursed. Rodney for trapping her there on purpose, whoever was controlling the music that was too loud for anyone to hear her calling for help…

That was until her night took one very right turn. Someone opened the door of the broken transporter, probably trying to get home. She shouted, trying to stop him from closing it and locking them both in the damned transporter. However, he was too drunk to hear her in time and soon she was confined in the little room with John Sheppard, who looked positively yummy – the most appropriate word her drunken mind could come up with – in a button down black shirt and jeans. Jennifer thought he should have lost the t-shirt he was wearing under it; the damned thing stopped her from seeing his hairy upper chest.

Maybe the lustful thoughts about the Military Commander of Atlantis that assaulted her brain should have clued her to the possibility of being drunk. The fact that this didn't cross her mind at all meant she definitely was drunk.

He blinked at her, surprised to find the doctor seated on the floor of the transporter with a bottle of tequila. "What are you…?"

Jennifer stared at him with what she hoped was annoyance. "Transporter's broken."

"Broken?" he repeated dumbly. He was looking at Jennifer with a weird expression; he seemed to find it amusing to see her drunk. Her glare wasn't effective, obviously.

She tried glaring at him with anger, but the amused look didn't disappear so the doctor guessed she was too drunk for it to work and gave up. "I was trying to go the party, and it wouldn't let me out."

Sheppard pivoted on his feet, looking around the small cubicle. His face told the doctor that he was thinking, trying to come up with a way out.

"Cute," she thought. Out loud, however, she voiced her suspicion that Rodney had programmed it to lock her up, and prevent her from going to the party.

"He wouldn't do that," Sheppard defended his friend and teammate. "Least not without bragging about it to someone who'd come let you out."

The Colonel tried to get the keypad to work for him and touched it repeatedly, each time a little more forcefully than the previous one. He was getting frustrated with the machine too. "Not Rodney," he concluded after a while and gave up.

"Unless he's mad at you, too," Jennifer argued looking extremely frustrated and sad.

Sheppard sat on the floor and stretched his legs out on the opposite side of the small room, and Jennifer felt a mixture of excitement because she could admire his body from where she was, and disappointment because he was too far way. In retrospective, that was the second warning her body sent her brain about being drunk. Her brain simply ignored it, and noticed how nice his arms looked with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up over his elbows.

"He's not that mad," again he defended the scientist. "He's just, you know, whiney."

Jennifer had to agree with the assessment the military man made. She nodded and let her frustration out with a sigh.

Obviously, Sheppard was drunk too, because that Mensa brain of his supplied him with the brilliant idea of yelling for help over the awfully loud music.

She told him so while resisting the urge to be sarcastic. She was frustrated after being inside of the Ancient gizmo from hell for two hours, but that wasn't his fault.

"I have tequila," she added waving the bottle for him to see. "I was going to share but it's mine." She let her body fall back against the wall tiredly, and her bag of Cheetos made a noise to remind her of its existence. Pulling the bag from behind her, she offered him the treat.

"I was wondering why your mouth is orange," Sheppard said casually, while grabbing a handful of them.

Somehow, they started talking about Rodney and their broken relationship when Jennifer asked if people thought that she hadn't gone to the party due to said break-up.

"People were too drunk to care. And I think Rodney's telling people he broke up with you," the Colonel told her. He seemed to want to be reassuring but he wasn't doing a good job, as far as the blonde was concerned.

"It was like a shi-shi-shi-multaenoush quitting and getting fired."

"I don't want to know, Jennifer," he pleaded raising his hands in a begging gesture.

The physician accepted the plea easily enough. She didn't want to talk about Rodney with the gorgeous pilot anyway. Clearly, her brain had surrendered control to her hormonal system.

She decided to offer him tequila because, well, because she was drunk and it felt like the right thing to do. Sheppard accepted the offer and slid along the wall until he was by her side.

"God, he smells good, masculine… oh, so manly," she thought and let her eyes wander over his body discretely. Or at least, she hoped it was discrete. He didn't give any indication that he noticed it, but for such a sexy guy, he was noticeably clueless.

Jennifer didn't have any glasses; they had to share the bottle. Easy to say, not so easy to do when drunk. They struggled a little over it and he lost his equilibrium enough to fall over her lap.

"Comfy?" Jennifer asked glancing down at him. He looked so cute lying there, all sleepy and carefree. She had never seen him drunk or this relaxed in her time in Atlantis.

He made a lazy noise to agree, and then after making quite an effort to lift his upper body from her lap, he informed her that he was going to take his clothes off. Jennifer wasn't going to stop the man if he wanted to strip. "Who was she to stop him from displaying his beautiful body to her?" her hormone saturated brain supplied the excuse.

He considered carefully how many pieces of clothing he wanted to take off, and finally he left on only his boxers. Again he didn't notice, but Jennifer stared quite blatantly. She was his doctor, therefore she had already seen his body, but this didn't dismiss her enjoyment in the slightest.

"Hot," he said feeling the need to explain himself to the doctor. The small room felt clustered, hot, and damp with both of them in there.

"I agree," she answered for an entirely different reason. John missed the lustful leer of the woman, and the innuendo completely, though.

She could feel the heat even more than before, and her brain, functioning for a micro-second informed her that it was probably the sight of the almost naked Colonel and not the actual temperature of the room what made her feel that way. She racked her tank up exposing her stomach to mitigate the feeling. It didn't work, but it earned her a short and furtive glance from the attractive man sharing imprisonment with her. She listed it as a victory. She was his doctor after all, and she knew perfectly well how little action the man had had in recent times. Not for lack of offers because he was one of the most desired bachelors of the city. Whatever the reason, and regardless of Rodney's claims, John Sheppard was no Kirk, and the doctor found his attention bolstering her ego.

John sat back down close to the doctor. Jennifer enjoyed his proximity, and the opportunity to study his body without having to stitch it up. He either wasn't bothered by her staring or he wasn't aware of it.

Or so the physician thought until he said the words that changed their relationship, and that made her night a success. "We should do body shots. We're sweating enough."

"Okay," she answered shocked both by his words and his boldness. Nonetheless, she could have Atlantis' most sought bachelor, and she was not going to miss the chance. She had been way too long without sex, he was deliciously sexy, and the man deserved some happiness, even if it was temporary. She didn't fool herself into thinking he was honestly interested in her. He probably was as drunk and horny as she was.

Decision made, she spilled some tequila over her stomach, and savored the feeling of his eyes glued to the drops of alcohol traveling over her skin. "Well?"

"I didn't expect you to do that," John admitted licking his lips.

"Like what you see, eh?" Jennifer thought lustfully. Her horny brain told her to say something to get him to jump the small distance between watching and doing, though the best thing she came up with was, "You told me to."

He nodded, agreeing with her, and then he was licking her skin tentatively, afraid that she was going to push him away. Nothing farther from what she wished to do with him.

Soon he became more and more confident in his actions. Her consent evident in how Jennifer was holding his head in place, her fingers buried in his hair.

She didn't know who started it but next thing she knew, they were having sex in the transporter. The couple spent the night together in the small cubicle giving into their passion, and need for each other.

Later, they got redressed, and seated on the floor as close together as humanly possible. Jennifer grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down and over her, inviting him to lay his head on her thighs again. He had seemed to enjoy the proximity and intimacy of said position during the night on different occasions, and the doctor was happy to oblige.

He smiled grateful, and settled comfortable lying on his side, his face looking at her, his hands searching for the skin of her stomach. His fingers ran over it smoothly, and when her fingers started playing with his hair, he closed his eyes. His caress slowed down progressively until it stopped completely, and Jennifer knew he had fallen asleep.

He was definitively the cutest pilot in the expedition, she decided. He was so relaxed and sated. It was a unique view; Jennifer thought that probably no one in the expedition had seen him this relaxed ever. Jennifer fell asleep with the comforting weight of the colonel's body over her, observing the very active and dangerous man utterly calm, limp, and sleeping like a child trusting on her.