Sinfully Sweet (Challenge 58)
Title:Sinfully Sweet
Author: Coldqueen
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Claim:Ronon/Elizabeth
Prompt:Challenge #58 Prostitute With A Heart of Gold
Word Count:
Rating and Warnings: R, for content and innuendo and language.
Synopsis: Elizabeth and Ronon decide to indulge themselves.
Follow the White Rabbit to my Fanfic Table...
The street is deserted this late at night, except for the various illegal deals going down.
On the corner, a teenager, not even sixteen, is making a deal that will most likely end with him facedown in the gutter, wasted out of his mind. The dealer grins with a mouth of rotten teeth, intermitently littered with cheap gold. His eyes are yellow and glare as the follow the slow-moving car that gradually drifts by. The driver and passenger are looking for something, but it's not the junk he's selling.
On the opposite side of the street, half a block away, the two shadows finally lock onto just what they were looking for. Even though this side of the street is riddled with the late night riffraff of the Red Light District, she stands out. It could be the way she holds herself, slightly aloof and set apart from the other embittered walkers of the night. It might be her looks, beautiful even if ravaged by the stress of the life she lives. It might be her spirit, which glitters in her eyes as she stares down the now stopped car. Ronon debates the action he's about to take, because it's all the "maybes" and the "mights" that could make this endeavor a disastrous one.
Tapping a finger against the small notch in the door, he sends the window sliding down, just far enough to see the girl more clearly, and to send a rush of cold air into the car. The girl stepped forward, come-hither-smile blazing and leaned down seductively. She damn near fell out of her low-cut top, but the fishnet laced around her kept her safe for the moment. She wore a red skin-tight slipdress, and a long-sleeved fish-net top. He couldn't see her shoes, but he didn't doubt that they were five-inch-heels, the same blazing color of the dress. Fuck-Me-Pumps, at their best.
"Hi, lookin' for some fun?" Her voice is deep, husky, what some people would call a "whisky-voice". It matches her most appropriately, from her dark eyes, to the brown, yet golden highlighted hair. Even the tan of her skin evokes late nights of "fun". She must be very good at her job.
Ronon spares a glance for the driver, no longer unsure of what they want, and grins fiercely to the woman. "That we are."
The woman in the window looks past him, taking in the sight of the driver and if possible, grins wider. "My rate is negotiable, depending on what you want."
Ronon nodded. "Can I discuss it with my friend?"
She nodded, standing and stretching as she did so, perhaps to entice them to take her offer, or maybe just because she was tired from a long night on the street. Either way, both inhabitants of the vehicle got an eyeful of the product. Shutting the window, Ronon turned to his "friend" and shrugged. "The decision is your's."
Elizabeth leaned from her seat behind the wheel, and into his side. She eyed the streetwalker as she stood there, posing most effectively. She debated the pros and cons of choosing this woman, and what it might mean to Ronon. She wanted an attractive woman, but not one who was more so than she. Brushing her shoulder length curls against his face, their breath mingled together as she stared into his eyes. "I fuck, you watch."
He smiled and kissed her briefly, before letting her slide back into her seat. Opening the door to the car, he stood, all six foot five of glorious male, and gestured for the whore to come close. "We've decided we'd like to make an offer," he started, "$200 for the hour, you do her, not me."
Glancing past the imposing figure he cut, she took in the sight of the fragile yet steel-under-ridden woman who drove the car. She was beautiful, with long midnight curls, and large blue eyes. Blue eyes that even now looked at her lustily. While the man would be a pleasure to satisfy, the woman would be more fun. She nodded slowly, and waited while Ronon opened the back door before sliding in, small squeaks emitting from the clash of pleather dress on leather seat. She settled in quickly, enjoying the luxury of the car.
Elizabeth turned and smiled at their choice for the night, holding out her hand to the young woman. "My name is Elizabeth Dex, this my husband Ronon."
"Teyla Emmagen," she replied, grasping the long fingers of her new client. Ronon slid into the front passenger seat and ignored the introductions. He didn't need to know her name, or her situation, but Elizabeth often found it helped her arouse quicker. Women were finicky like that.
Elizabeth held her hand just a bit too long, smiling just a bit too wide, but it was something Teyla had long gotten used to. "That's a beautiful locket," Elizabeth said, eyeing the small locket nestled in Teyla's cleavage.
Teyla, grasping it, smiled geniunely for the first time. "A birthday gift from my son."
"You've a son?"
Teyla nodded, looking away for a second. "I was married at one time. He was in the army, away alot."
Elizabeth nodded in sympathy, before turning and shifting the car into gear. "So, is there a hotel nearby?"
"Just up the street actually," Teyla replied, grateful for the change in subject and the focus on the business at hand. "So, just the missus tonight?"
Ronon cast a glance at Teyla through the car mirror. "Yes," he answered, reaching over to pat Elizabeth's hand. "I like to indulge her."
Elizabeth grinned. "You enjoy it too."
Teyla watched them interact, and realized that though their sexual life was odd and perverse, there was genuine love there as well. "With me, you'll both enjoy it."
Elizabeth laughed and adjust her mirror so that she could see Teyla. "What's your son's name?"
"Rodney Jr."
"That's a nice name. If we have a good time tonight, maybe we'll come back next week too."
Teyla leaned forward, sliding one hand into the front seat and cradling Elizabeth's breast softly. "I'd like that."
The rest of the ride passed quickly.
Author: Coldqueen
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Claim:Ronon/Elizabeth
Prompt:Challenge #58 Prostitute With A Heart of Gold
Word Count:
Rating and Warnings: R, for content and innuendo and language.
Synopsis: Elizabeth and Ronon decide to indulge themselves.
Follow the White Rabbit to my Fanfic Table...
The street is deserted this late at night, except for the various illegal deals going down.
On the corner, a teenager, not even sixteen, is making a deal that will most likely end with him facedown in the gutter, wasted out of his mind. The dealer grins with a mouth of rotten teeth, intermitently littered with cheap gold. His eyes are yellow and glare as the follow the slow-moving car that gradually drifts by. The driver and passenger are looking for something, but it's not the junk he's selling.
On the opposite side of the street, half a block away, the two shadows finally lock onto just what they were looking for. Even though this side of the street is riddled with the late night riffraff of the Red Light District, she stands out. It could be the way she holds herself, slightly aloof and set apart from the other embittered walkers of the night. It might be her looks, beautiful even if ravaged by the stress of the life she lives. It might be her spirit, which glitters in her eyes as she stares down the now stopped car. Ronon debates the action he's about to take, because it's all the "maybes" and the "mights" that could make this endeavor a disastrous one.
Tapping a finger against the small notch in the door, he sends the window sliding down, just far enough to see the girl more clearly, and to send a rush of cold air into the car. The girl stepped forward, come-hither-smile blazing and leaned down seductively. She damn near fell out of her low-cut top, but the fishnet laced around her kept her safe for the moment. She wore a red skin-tight slipdress, and a long-sleeved fish-net top. He couldn't see her shoes, but he didn't doubt that they were five-inch-heels, the same blazing color of the dress. Fuck-Me-Pumps, at their best.
"Hi, lookin' for some fun?" Her voice is deep, husky, what some people would call a "whisky-voice". It matches her most appropriately, from her dark eyes, to the brown, yet golden highlighted hair. Even the tan of her skin evokes late nights of "fun". She must be very good at her job.
Ronon spares a glance for the driver, no longer unsure of what they want, and grins fiercely to the woman. "That we are."
The woman in the window looks past him, taking in the sight of the driver and if possible, grins wider. "My rate is negotiable, depending on what you want."
Ronon nodded. "Can I discuss it with my friend?"
She nodded, standing and stretching as she did so, perhaps to entice them to take her offer, or maybe just because she was tired from a long night on the street. Either way, both inhabitants of the vehicle got an eyeful of the product. Shutting the window, Ronon turned to his "friend" and shrugged. "The decision is your's."
Elizabeth leaned from her seat behind the wheel, and into his side. She eyed the streetwalker as she stood there, posing most effectively. She debated the pros and cons of choosing this woman, and what it might mean to Ronon. She wanted an attractive woman, but not one who was more so than she. Brushing her shoulder length curls against his face, their breath mingled together as she stared into his eyes. "I fuck, you watch."
He smiled and kissed her briefly, before letting her slide back into her seat. Opening the door to the car, he stood, all six foot five of glorious male, and gestured for the whore to come close. "We've decided we'd like to make an offer," he started, "$200 for the hour, you do her, not me."
Glancing past the imposing figure he cut, she took in the sight of the fragile yet steel-under-ridden woman who drove the car. She was beautiful, with long midnight curls, and large blue eyes. Blue eyes that even now looked at her lustily. While the man would be a pleasure to satisfy, the woman would be more fun. She nodded slowly, and waited while Ronon opened the back door before sliding in, small squeaks emitting from the clash of pleather dress on leather seat. She settled in quickly, enjoying the luxury of the car.
Elizabeth turned and smiled at their choice for the night, holding out her hand to the young woman. "My name is Elizabeth Dex, this my husband Ronon."
"Teyla Emmagen," she replied, grasping the long fingers of her new client. Ronon slid into the front passenger seat and ignored the introductions. He didn't need to know her name, or her situation, but Elizabeth often found it helped her arouse quicker. Women were finicky like that.
Elizabeth held her hand just a bit too long, smiling just a bit too wide, but it was something Teyla had long gotten used to. "That's a beautiful locket," Elizabeth said, eyeing the small locket nestled in Teyla's cleavage.
Teyla, grasping it, smiled geniunely for the first time. "A birthday gift from my son."
"You've a son?"
Teyla nodded, looking away for a second. "I was married at one time. He was in the army, away alot."
Elizabeth nodded in sympathy, before turning and shifting the car into gear. "So, is there a hotel nearby?"
"Just up the street actually," Teyla replied, grateful for the change in subject and the focus on the business at hand. "So, just the missus tonight?"
Ronon cast a glance at Teyla through the car mirror. "Yes," he answered, reaching over to pat Elizabeth's hand. "I like to indulge her."
Elizabeth grinned. "You enjoy it too."
Teyla watched them interact, and realized that though their sexual life was odd and perverse, there was genuine love there as well. "With me, you'll both enjoy it."
Elizabeth laughed and adjust her mirror so that she could see Teyla. "What's your son's name?"
"Rodney Jr."
"That's a nice name. If we have a good time tonight, maybe we'll come back next week too."
Teyla leaned forward, sliding one hand into the front seat and cradling Elizabeth's breast softly. "I'd like that."
The rest of the ride passed quickly.