A Call to Arms

Author: Nu_Klear <nu_klear[at]yahoo.com>

Sumary: Why do inconsiderate uninvited guests always show up at the worse possible times?

A/N: I'd like thank Tenhawk for his help and contribution to this fic. Also for allowing me to write in his universe.

Dragan walked down the hallway towards his room, day dreaming of the hot tub and cursing the knots of tension forming in his muscles. Five days of intensives flight training, followed by a dogfight against a bunch of the snakehead's lackeys was enough to wear on anyone's nerves. Add to that the unpleasant memories this situation was bringing to the surface and he was seriously wishing he could find a way to carry Draca in the cockpit.

Although the ancient mercenary would never admit it he was feeling a bit out of his league. The last time he had been in battle with Jaffa, he had been a much different person and was more interested in revenge than protecting anyone. Glancing at Teal'C as he walked past, Dragan shook his head and sighed. <I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it. A Jaffa fighting the Goa'uld,> Dragan watched Teal'C turn a corner heading for into his room; he shook his head and rolled his eyes. <I was positive he was a plant… I can't believe I owe a *Jaffa* an apology!>

Turning down the hallway to his room, Dragan was jostled from his thoughts when he bumped into someone, hissing as a spike of pain shot through his upper body. He instinctively reached out and grabbed the person to keep them from falling down. Looking down Dragan blinked, then smiled at Cles' amused & annoyed expression. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going…"

Cles rolled her eyes and sighed. "What did you do to yourself this time?"

"Nothing…" Dragan grimaced and shook his head at the look she gave him. "Really, it's nothing, I'm just knotting up from the stress; an hour or two in the tub and I'll be fine."

"Come with me..." Cles shook her head, grabbed Dragan's arm and began leading him down the hall.

"Cles," Dragan hissed, his eyes darting around hallway as he tried to think of a way to extract his arm from her grip without hurting either of them. "I have a reputation to maintain… do you have any idea what this would do to my image if someone saw?"

"Less talking, more walking!" Cles whistled in amusement as she continued leading the complaining mercenary down the hall.

"How does that feel?"

"Hmm… wonderful, don't stop."

Cles chuckled and put more force into rubbing the knot of muscles she was working on. Feeling the last of the muscles finally relax she leaned back. Sitting down on Dragan's lower back she lightened her touch until she was gently running her fingers over his upper back. "You really were tense, weren't you?"

"Mm hmm… and I still am." Dragan mumbled. He suddenly turned over, catching the startled Fa'lur off guard, pinning her between his body and the mattress. Dragan smiled down at Cles for a moment before leaning down; he kissed where her beak disappeared into her flesh then very gently nipped her on the cheek and began working his way down her neck towards her shoulder.

Cles gasped as she felt the gentle pressure of his teeth on her cheek then whimpered, feeling him unfasten her coveralls and push them aside as he began to leave a trail of nips down her neck. She hissed and pressed him hard against her when his teeth pressed into the thicker skin of her shoulder, sending a trill of pleasure through her body. His hands began to roam her body as they worked at getting her coveralls off.

"You jerk…," Cles whispered. Dragan paused looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You could have at least told Merlin not to watch first…"

Before Dragan could say anything, a very relieved voice filled the air. "Thank you… Privacy mode engaged!"

Dragan half sat up, looking at the ceiling. He growled causing Cles to begin giggling; she slowly trailed off at the sight of the smile slowly spreading across Dragan's face. Cles swallowed hard, as he began to lower himself onto her again, sensing the playfulness and determination starting to mix with the lust he always seemed to project. (Uh, oh… I think he took that personally.)

Sometime later

Anyone walking into the room would have been hard pressed to tell where one of the occupants of the bed started and the other stopped. Not that either of them cared, having long pasted the point of caring about anything beyond their current activities.

Dragan and Cles held each other in a tight lover's embrace, hands roaming their bodies as they filled the air with whimpers, moans and assorted other sounds as they worked their way closer towards completion; each feeling the other's rise towards their mutual goal and racing them toward that rapidly approaching destination. Both thinking nothing could, or would, dare interrupt their journey towards that moment of pleasure and contentment.

"All pilots scramble! Repeat, scramble! We have hostiles inbound!"

Dragan and Cles froze, looking at each other in disbelief as the intercom's message echoed through the room.

Most of the pilots of Warbird flight were exiting their rooms when an enraged shriek caused most of them to jump and turn towards the farthest door just as it opened. Dragan came storming out of the room, a look of pure rage on his face; he charged down the hall towards the flight deck yelling something about tearing them apart with his bare hands before starting to slip into a running monolog in several different languages.

An instant later Cles burst from the room, the blue robe draped around her shoulders waving as she stepped into the slight breeze in the hallway. "Dragan! Wait! Aren't you forgetting something?"

Dragan paused in mid-step, abruptly becoming aware of the cool breeze flowing where no breeze had a right to be. <Oh shit.>

He turned, already grimacing as he saw the wide eyes around him, and his anger with the Goa'uld grew exponentially. For a moment even he pitied the Jaffa that crossed his gunsights. Then his moment of weakness was over and he caught the flight suit as Cles threw it to him. He turned, hopping along on one foot as he slipped into the suit, and continued on his way to the flight deck.

Cles turned to the onlookers, suppressing a chuckle, and put forth a rather imposing glare. "What are you all staring at? Haven't you ever seen anyone naked before?"

Chappy stared after them for a moment before turning towards the other pilots and smiling hesitantly. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I find it more than a little disconcerting that that really didn't seem that strange to me."


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