Marked, Chapter 2

Dr. Weir, Teyla, and Lt. Ford walk up to find Major Sheppard sitting in the middle of the Amazon camp. Lounging on the chair behind him, is Mara. She is absently stroking her fingers through John's hair as if he were a pet cat or dog.

Sheppard scrambles to his feet when he sees them approach. He's a little surprised to see that Elizabeth has opted to wear a combat vest and carry a P90 like the others. Probably a sign of strength. He thinks that Dr. Weir with a weapon could be dangerous, especially when she looks as unhappy as she does now.

"Having fun, Major?" Elizabeth asks with no hint of amusement in her voice.

"They've been..." Sheppard motions at the scantily clad women standing in the camp. "very hospitable."

"Oh, I'm sure," she says before turning her gaze to the woman standing beside the Major. "You must be Mara."

"I am Mara," says the Amazon.

"I am Dr. Elizabeth Weir. I am here to claim what rightfully belongs to me."

"How do I know he belongs to you when he holds no markings?"

"But he does bear my mark. I choose for him not to openly display it. After all, some may be apt to try and steal him just because he belongs to me."

Mara's eyes narrow at the veiled accusation. "Show me this mark."

Dr. Weir steps up to Sheppard. He has no idea what she's up to.

"Take off your vest and jacket," she orders.

John's forehead wrinkles in confusion, but he does what he's told. He lays his jacket and vest on the ground beside him.

"Turn around, unbuckle your belt and pants."

"What?!" John exclaims. "Why?"

Elizabeth's eyes harden into a glare. "Do it or you can stay here."

Sheppard turns and unbuckles first his gun belt, then his pants. He's glad that the leg strap keeps the weight of his 9mm from pulling his pants down around his ankles. Elizabeth untucks the back of his shirt from his pants. He sucks in a breath when he feels her fingers dip between his boxers and his back.

John is about to spin around and pull away when she rolls back the waistband of his boxers along with his pants. She makes a point of not pulling them away from his body. Weir shows Mara the label stitched into the underwear.

"That is my mark," Elizabeth says, tongue firmly in cheek. "My family owns many fruit growing orchards."

There's a choked cough beside them as Ford struggles with his laughter.

"Are you done?" asks Sheppard tersely.

"Of course," Weir says sweetly. She lets go of his waistband and gives him a light pat on the butt for good measure. "You can buckle back up."

Sheppard quickly secures his pants and belt, knowing he's blushing despite himself. He's pulling on his jacket and vest when Mara turns to Elizabeth.

"Would you be interested in trading for him?"

"Trading for him?" asks Elizabeth.

"Yes. We are always looking for good breeding stock."

There's another cough/laugh from Ford. Elizabeth turns to Sheppard with a smirk.

"I don't know," she says and tilts her head to the side in thought. "He is often more trouble than he's worth."

"Elizabeth...," growls John indignantly.

Weir grins and looks back at Mara. "But I've grown rather fond of his quirks and can't bear to be parted with him."

"I understand," Mara says with a bow.

The team say their goodbyes and walk out of the camp.

"You could have told me what you were going to do." says Johns after a minute.

"Why Major," responds Elizabeth innocently. "You didn't think I'd actually pull your pants down in front of all those women, did you?"

"Yes he did!" guffaws Ford. "You should have seen his face," he adds through peals of laughter.

"I did not know you could turn that shade of red, Major," says Teyla with a grin.

John stares daggers at Elizabeth as they come up to the gate. Ford has to wipe tears of mirth out his eyes to see the DHD.

"Classic," he hears Ford say. "I can't wait to tell the others back on Atlantis."

Sheppard grabs Weir's arm as Ford and Teyla walk through the gate.

"I'll get you back for this."

"Oh come now, Major. Don't be so melodramatic. It could have been worse."

"Ford and the rest of Atlantis are never going to let me live this down. How could it be worse?"

"You could not have had a tag on your boxers," Elizabeth says slyly. "Then I would have been forced to use the scar I know is a lot further down than your waistline."

John's eyes widen and he lets go of her arm in shock. "How do you know about that?"

"You have been in the infirmary several times, Major." And with a wink, she steps through the gate.

The End.

Anyway, it made me laugh and forced me to write a story about Weir seeing his boxers.

The label is Fruit of the Loom and the last line is in reference to those hospital gowns that always flap open in the back.