Disclaimer: None of its mine. It's all MGM and SyFy.

Author Notes: Many thanks to rusty_armour for the time she took to beta and her sharp-eyed skills and kind words. This is set post-finale. Cross-posted in the ronon_amelia lj comm. Enjoy!

MARKED BY STARS

"I'm ready."

Ronon's smile was half-full. His hands wielded needles and ink. Amelia half-smiled back. She felt a more than pleasant buzz down her spine, spreading to every part of her body. It wasn't all because of the beer.

"What's it for?" Ronon asked, as Amelia twisted her hair up out of the way.

"This past year," Amelia decided. "Atlantis."

Everything.

She'd chosen a spot on her neck behind her right ear. It wasn't going to be her first tattoo, but it would be the first one done by Ronon. There were goosebumps rising on her skin, running a path down her bare neck towards Ronon's sure touch.

The first sting of the needle surprised her, but she stayed still. She ran through Ancient coding in her head, the latest technical modifications she was learning, how good salted pretzels tasted to her now, how great Ronon was looking in denim. Her thoughts circled around that image for a while and her smile lingered.

"You're done."

He stayed close as she turned towards a mirror. There was an almost crescent moon on her neck, three dots at its back. All in deep green. Discreet and simple and perfect.

"Thank you."

"Thanks for the trust."

On Sateda, you asked only those you held in absolute trust to mark your skin. One night, Ronon had told her the stories of his tattoos; this one was honour after his first battle, this the symbol of his military unit, this was to mark when Melena had said yes to sharing his life. They weren't for sports teams or drunken ideas or relationships than never worked out. They represented important stages of life.

Ronon rubbed the pad of his thumb over the freshly inked skin. Pleasure and pain coiled together under her flesh, just about bearably. Amelia narrowed her eyes over her shoulder.

Ronon smirked. "Feels good."

She could smell beer and popcorn on his breath, feel the salt on his fingertips. She wondered, briefly, what she tasted of right now. He didn't move away.

The single lamp cast shadows over them both. Only half of Ronon's face was visible. The lights still felt wrong. Atlantis was illuminating. Amelia missed that and the feel of the city beneath her hands, responding to the slightest touch. They'd all been spoiled.

She closed the gap between them in a rush. His lips responded to hers immediately, equally hungry. His hand lingered at the base of her spine, tracing the tattoo she'd shown him not all that long ago. She mapped out the one on his thigh that was bisected by a thorny scar.

He wrote things on her skin with his hand and tongue, on places that weren't marked with anything. Some of it she recognised and remembered, Satedan and English. Most of it slid past her in a pleasurable haze. She found the spot behind his ear that he always growled at. Everything felt amplified, charged, like the moments when a team was about to come in hot through the Gate, Amelia poised in the control room to act.

Tomorrow, the IOA was meeting to decide about Atlantis. Everything could change again.

Amelia cried out, her body arching. Ronon followed her, guttural, his body stilling to cover hers. Their breathing was loud.

In the Pegasus Galaxy, Amelia had started training with Teyla. It had been hard and exhausting. Satisfying too. Pushing her body, her muscles burning and responding. She wanted to be ready, prepared. Chuck had started a pool; something about which of them would kick Colonel Sheppard's ass more. Amelia sparred with Ronon as well. He never went easy on her.

She smiled, her hand resting over the old gnarly marking on his chest. They'd learned each other. He wouldn't talk about tomorrow. She felt his smile on her crown, his dreadlocks shifting against her skin. They were both marked. And no matter what was decided tomorrow, Amelia knew what she would choose.

-the end