Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

The bed shifts and I feel my heart sink. She is doing it again, she is leaving me. The blankets raise, cool air snaking into our warm cocoon before they slide back down, again trapping the warmth next to my skin.

I do not open my eyes, instead I allow my hearing to reveal her actions to me. She pads quietly around the room, unerringly finding her clothing and sliding it back on her naked body.

She is always most meticulous about where she places her clothes, and now I know why. Some could accuse her of being a 'neat freak' yet I know it is something different. She does exactly the same thing when we are off world, creating familiarity in an unfamiliar place.

I hear her underclothes slide over her smooth skin, the slight slap of elastic against her waist, the hitch in her breathing as she contorts her body to fasten her bra.

The bed dips again as she puts on her pants, the rough material of her uniform sounding loud in the stillness of the room. She puts on her shirt and I hear her tucking it in, before zipping up her pants.

In a few minutes she is gone and I am again alone.

The need for subterfuge gone, I open my eyes, rolling to my back as I stare up at the ceiling. She comes, sometimes every night, she comes to me. We never talk, words are unnecessary to us.

She walks in, quietly closing and locking the door behind her. She comes to me, her sapphire eyes sparkling as she slowly takes off her clothes, her motions deliberate, yet specifically meant to inflame and entice.

I too bare myself as I watch her, the slow striptease more erotic than anything I have ever seen. She comes to me, her mouth settling over mine as her body covers me, pushing me back onto the bed.

Our hands move over each other, exploring, investigating, tantalizing and pleasing. She caresses my body and I worship hers. I know her intimately now, not just because we are lovers. I know where she is sensitive, where the lightest touch will make her gasp with pleasure, her back arch in ecstasy. I know which scars pain her still, which muscles are prone to cramping.

I watch as her nipples harden and peak, their color darkening to a warm ruby red. Her breasts heave, moving in time as her breathing quickens, coming in panting gasps.

I suck them into my mouth, laving them with my tongue and tweaking them with my teeth.

She slides over me, her hand leaving my head to grasp my cock, squeezing and caressing me until she has me writhing and moaning beneath her. She impales herself on me, her eyes squeezing shut as she concentrates on her own pleasure. She claims control, her knees pressing into my ribs as her short nails dig into my chest.

I raise my hands, simply resting them on her waist as she rocks, riding me. Her head is back, her long throat bared and exposed as her eyes flutter close. Her pleasure is coming, I can see it as her lips part, her tongue peeking out. She gasps and mews, her brow furrowing in concentration.

I surrender myself to the sensations, joining her as she attains her goal, the contractions of her body pulling me along with her.

Spent, she collapses on top of me, soon sliding to a more comfortable position, nestled into my side. I can feel her relax, her body soften as she sleeps beside me.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing deep to inhale her unique scent. I can feel the perspiration drying on her skin as I draw up the covers, hoping to capture the warmth of our lovemaking and keep it as a barrier from the chill of the night.

I used to sleep beside her, but I do not do that any more. If I sleep, then I miss those precious hours that we have together. Instead, I lie awake, feeling her soft breath caress my skin.

She is vulnerable now, totally placing her trust in me. I could kill her with minimal effort, and she knows that. Which is a fact that makes her trust all the more valuable. She not only gifts me with her body, but with her life as well.

The gesture of her trust would mean more if it also came with the gesture of her heart.

That is the one part of her that she keeps to herself, safely tucked away, hidden where I can not touch.

She never sleeps for long, a few hours at the most, then I feel her stir. I feel the sigh as regret settles over her, the soft sadness in her touch as she gently lays beside me, awake, yet feigning sleep.

I control my breathing, forcing my muscles to relax and lay slack, creating the illusion of a peaceful slumber. I never speak, never give her a hint that I am aware, that I bear witness to her weakness, that I feel her hot tears or hear her whispered apology as she carefully slips from my arms.

It has been the same since the day he left us, since the day he died and took with him that one tiny piece of her that I'll never have. Since he took with him the reason she will never stay with me, never give herself totally to me, never give me the boon of awakening at her side, of holding her tight.

Never accept me and the feelings I hold for her, never accept that I freely give her the one thing she can never give me…my heart.

~Fin~

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