Title: Promises of Return
Summary: AU. Her people had warned her about him and she wonders if maybe they were right.
Characters: John & Teyla
Pairing: John/Teyla
Rating: M

He grumbles slightly as he moves away from her breath and she smiles. Normally, he sleeps in the visitors' tents with the others of his people but he'd fallen asleep on the soft down pillows on her floor before he'd made it back there. He hates the harvest, he's told her on many occasions; he hates the labour, the heat, the sun, the rain. He says he's not cut out for the pastoral life style that belongs only in the pages of a Shakespeare play. She doesn't know what it means but she knows he doesn't mean it – not really because each year he returns to aide her people in wielding their crops.

Usually, he's not quite as tired as this and will stay up conversing with her throughout the night until it is she who has to retire. She knows something has happened to him since the previous year but he won't allow her to see it. The dwindling fire casts half his body in shadow, his face disappearing into the darkness of the room, his unusually styled hair sticking up even more from his slumber.

Her people have warned her about him, fearful that she is in danger of falling for him charms. They have warned her of his intentions for returning every year but she can't seem to care for them as much as she should. When they'd first met, he'd offered her a place in his city, a place which she had declined. Ever since, she has found herself wondering if he shares his bed with another; if he has shared the bed of many women. She's an honourable woman and she knows him to an honourable man but she knows that he is just a man.

She's found over the years that he is less inclined to leave after the harvest but makes less idle promises of his return before the next harvest. She knows he won't come before then just like he knows she won't go there. She's not sure what is different this year but she knows that something is. He's usually playful with the children, thoughtful with the adults but this year he's spent more time alone on the furthest fields, or sharing the evening meal quietly by her side.

He's an enigma; something she's not quite certain she wants to figure out. She likes that mystery in him; she thinks it's what draws her to him. She likes the innocent boyish charm of his facade but she knows there is darkness in him that he does not let many see. It's the leader in him, the protective soul; that dark and dangerous desire to make things right that she knows so well because, although he's never let her see it, she has her own inside of her. He knows that too. They don't speak of it – she can't imagine ever sharing words of belonging with him – but they both know there is a connection between them, a chord that runs deeper than any of the meaningless flings they've both had.

"I'll never get to sleep if you keep staring at me like that."

She jumps at his murmur and ducks her head. His words seemed to echo in the small cosy room and she watches as he slowly sits up, gripping his head as he does so.

"I hate harvesting." She smiles at the words but doesn't reply. She knows he does but he still comes back. "It's getting colder at night."

Autumn – as he called it – descended faster at night than during the daylight hours and Teyla found that she'd pulled more blankets from the chest at the bottom of her drawer for her night sleep.

"Yes," she nods her words muted by the still night. "I believe we are to endure a cold winter."

He nods and stretches, his hands rising over his head allowing her eyes a peak at some tanned flesh. She glances away.

"What time is it?" He asks as he looks at his watch. He groans and scrubs a hand across his face and she watches in fascination as he throws himself back onto the pillows. "You should have woke me earlier." She simply smiles and shakes her head, noting how he makes no move to get up and return to the other tent. She's found she doesn't want him to. He's staring at her, she can feel it and she looks up to his face, rugged and handsome, shadowed with the beginnings of a beard. His eyes are a colour she can't distinguish because they change whenever she looks upon them. She shivers. "Come here," he commands and pats the space on the pillows next to him, manoeuvring his body to make space for her.

She hesitates. It is the first time he has verbally initiated contact between them and she wonders if he's noticed the change too because he begins to looks uncomfortable. His eyes leave hers for a moment before they rise again with a steadfast resoluteness that she finds she can't argue with. She rises to her knees and shuffles to the make shift bed, carefully placing herself alongside his lithe body. She's sure this is what her people warned her about. She sighs and stares at the ceiling, listening to the stillness outside her tent. There is not a breath of wind to rustle the trees, and the chill air settles over the tents, soaking them with a fine mist.

"I grew up on a farm." Teyla turns to him as he speaks, her brow furrowed; she hadn't expected that. "When I say 'farm', I mean it wasn't a working farm... well it was but I didn't have to work on it." She turns onto her side as his voice takes on a melancholy tone; she's never heard him speak of his life before Atlantis. He laughs lightly and she finds that she enjoys the sound. He props his head on his fist as he leans his weight on his elbow, his body facing her. "One summer, I decided I wanted to help the farm hands... ever since then I've hated harvesting. I used to go in for breakfast at ten in the morning and fall asleep before heading back out." It's when she's stopped enjoying the sound of his voice that she realises his fingers are dancing delicately on her exposed hip. "It's different here though."

She turns her attention to his voice again and notes that his eyes are watching the advances of his fingers with genuine curiosity. She smiles.

"There is much time to harvest our crops. The winter will not come for some time."

He nods and she feels her breath hitch in her throat when his hand flattens over her hip, covering it with his strong warmth. She sucks her lips between her teeth and fights the urge to close her eyes. He slides his hand from under his temple and pushes a loose strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle. She lets him rest his hand under her neck when he lies down, his face inches from hers. He closes his eyes and tucks his head into the soft cushions beneath them a small, loving smile alighting his features. She sighs herself and closes her eyes, feeling sleep tugging at the back of her senses.

She gasps when his hand travels down her hip to her thigh, his fingers urging her closer to his body. He's commanding, yet gentle and Teyla can feel warmth envelope her. She can feel his faltering breath bathe her face and she parts her lips. This is definitely what her people had warned her about, but Teyla knows she is in danger of nothing but giving in to the urges of her body. She trusts John Sheppard with her life because they are so alike.

He's assured, yet gentle as his fingers nimbly ascend her body, tracing delicately over the outline of her breasts, up her collar bones, grasping her jaw in both of his hands. She is sure she should be breathing but her autonomic systems seem to be failing her and she rasps in a few gasping breaths. She opens her eyes and finds his staring at her with an unyielding intensity, unwavering and desirous and she feels liquid heat pool in parts most intimate.

His eyelids flutter shut as he inches forward, the outer edges of his lips finding hers in a kiss as unsure and gentle as the clouds that grace the summer sky. She closes the distance and her breath leaves her in a gasp as their lips seal over the other, melting together for the first time. He moans subtly and his grip on her tightens, his hand drifting to the base of her spine, pulling her closer to him. She opens her mouth to him when he teases her bottom lip with his nimble tongue, letting him plunder her mouth before returning the kiss with intensity.

She's been with men before but none have elicited the depth of reaction that John is. She can feel his desire for her growing against her abdomen and her body moves instinctively towards her. He tears his lips from hers and groans audibly as his lips latch onto her neck, eliciting a feral growl from her. She arches into him as he rolls on top of her, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her up to meet him. She needs to encouragement.

"Teyla..." he murmurs and she revels in the sound of her name on his lips, heightening her desire as it vibrates against her clavicle. His hands are everywhere and her skin is burning from his touch. Her silk top is gone before she knows and when she opens her eyes she sees him propped up on his hands, his eyes raking in her heaving body. His gaze is dark and penetrating and when he licks his lips she can't handle it anymore. "Teyla..." he groans as she tugs him down on top of her, his finger teasing her, circling her ribs, brushing the underside of her breasts and she tries to urge them further up her body, to the place she wants to feel him.

She moans his name loudly when he nudges her sensitive centre with his knee and she opens her eyes to see his possessive smirk before he ducks his head and captures a nipple between his lips, his tongue flicking over the sensitive nub. She gasps and arches into him, mewling as his finger traces the outline of her other nipple, teasing it to a hard point, flicking it with his fingers. She wets his fingers when he places them at her mouth and gasps when he circles the warm nub with his cool finger. He pulls back slightly and traces a wet trail with his tongue across her chest to her other nipple, conjuring more whispered gasps with his wicked tongue.

"John..."

He draws himself from her body and stares into her eyes, measuring her and she feels desire swim through her under his gaze. Her hips rock involuntarily and he groans, pulling her with him as he sits back. She gasps at the new position and can't wait to feel him inside of her. Her fingers find the edge of his tee and pull it over his head, her fingers quickly touching his muscled chest, her nails dragging across his nipples elicit a gasp from him and she smiles wickedly as she lowers her head to his neck, sucking at the pulse point below his ear. He gasps into her neck, his fingers finding the waistband of her silky trousers. She wants him to dip his fingers inside of her but he doesn't and she groans. Instead, he rubs his finger across her warmth and the feel of it through her cool silk pants causes her to groan and throw her head back, allowing him access to her breasts once more. The feel of his finger tracing her clit, toying with her wetness combined with his masterful tongue on her breasts causes her to let out a small cry of ecstasy as she rocks into his hand.

He withdraws his touch and she blinks down at him, confusion marring her features. He smiled at her as he secures her legs around his waist and stands. She knows what he is planning and secretly, she is glad. She uses his distraction to her advantage and her lips find his ear lobe as her hands find his throbbing member under her buttocks. She massages him through his trousers and she revels in the moans that erupts in his throat. She can feel the thick wood post on her back as he thrusts her into it, his fingers digging into her hips, his body thrusting against hers.

She has never needed to feel someone like she needs to feel him.

As he deposits her on her bed, she silently curses herself for allowing herself to have missed out on this over the years. She opens her eyes and sees him standing at the end of her bed, his hands on his hips, his eyes taking in her body. She eyes him too, her eyes drawn to the bulge in his trousers. She sits up and slides to the end of the bed, her eyes never leaving his. She can see the dark desire bubbling under his restraint and she reaches for the zipper, toying with the strange apparatus before tugging it down, her fingers drawing the soft material of his trousers with them as they descend her body.

She feels his hands on her shoulders and she looks up and sees his eyes closed, she can feel his hips twitch towards her under her hands. She smiles; she feels powerful. Her tongue follows the line of hairs that disappear into his undergarments, her fingers tugging them down his body to allow her access to the rest of him. The part that she wants.

He's as she expected him to be and she pauses in wonderment for a moment before her fingers cover his shaft, stroking the silky hardness. He groans from low in his throat and jerks towards her touch. Her lips find themselves on his hips, her tongue dancing and twirling along his toned stomach. She sighs when she feels his fingers pinch her nipple and she draws back from him, sliding further up the bed as he kneels on the edge, towering over her.

He follows her descending trousers with his tongue and lips, kissing every inch of exposed skin. His fingers skim across her skin as they ascend once more and she moves his name as he dances over the place he knows she wants touched. He grins impishly at her before he devours her lips once more, his tongue imitating precisely what he wants to do with her. There is a moan and she's not sure whether it is from him or her. She can feel a chasm opening in her gut and she thrusts harder against him as he grinds his hips into hers, painfully close to her core.

She reaches between them and takes him in her hand again, stroking once, twice, three times before guiding him to her entrance. He doesn't hesitate as he glides into her, slowly – so painfully slowly. She groans with him as he fills her up from base to tip, stretching her until she is sure she will burst.

He felt good.

His hips twitch but she can feel his body's resistance. He drops his head to her shoulder in a tender movement she had not expected. She circles him with her legs and arms, the position managing to draw him into her further. They both groan and she can feel her walls tightening. She has never felt anything like this before in her life. She can feel his short breaths on her shoulder, bathing her in warmth and she turns her head into him slightly, fearful now.

"I could stay here like this with you forever."

The murmured words are something she had not expected to hear and she feels her lungs draw in a quick breath. She tries to smile as she runs a hand through his hair, memorising the feel of the strands between her fingers. She likes that feel.

"Words you have said to others, I'm sure."

It's not an accusation, just a statement. He lifts his head and props himself up on his forearms. She can feel the weight of his gaze on her, his hazel eyes penetrating her deep. He pouts slightly as he appraises her, his eyes raking in her features. She can't feel uncomfortable, despite the heaviness of his stare. She is surprised when he shakes his head, his eyes meeting hers.

"Only with you..." He whispers before lowering his head and claiming her lips with his.

It's as close to an admittance of feeling she knows she will ever get from him and it's more than enough. She thrusts up into him and he groans into her mouth, following her movement with one of his own. She meets him thrust for thrust as he slides an arm under her back, urging her hips closer to his. It's neither fast nor desperate but Teyla can feel the need burning anyway, can feel the electrifying jolts of anticipation shoot through her as her body responds to his in a way that it never has with another. He's moaning her name into her ear, his movements growing erratic as his finger reaches down and toys with her clit. Then she feels it, sudden and welcomed - the first wave of her climax. She's never felt this before and as her walls draw every last drop of his seed from him, she calls his name into the quiet stillness around her, seeing colours she has never even dreamed of before, feeling things she's sure only he will ever be able to make her feel.

When the birds call wakes her, hours later, she expects to be alone. His body behind her is a welcomed surprise. The fingers circling further and further down her body even more so. When she's lost herself to him again, she drifts off as he readies himself to leave.

She doesn't get up to see him off but he leaves her with a parting kiss that she knows has spoiled her for anyone else.

As the dreams come, she knows this time his promises of return are not idle.

Her people warned her about him and she knows now they were right.