Spoilers: Set in Season 5 (So includes mild speculation as to what may happen)
Disclaimers: I own no part of the Stargate world, I make no money from this endeavour. I only love this world so much I wish to play in it gleefully!
John Sheppard did not consider himself a man with a large ego. Sure, he was competitive in sports, but no more than anyone else. In fact he believed for the most part he had bypassed much of the male ego; perhaps it had been his over-pressured upbringing that had done it. Perhaps that part of the ego and pride had mutated into the defiance gene that he had certainly had in spades.
Yes, maybe it was the defiance against being beat-the-crap-out-of that was bothering him now.
He had fought Teyla more times than he could count, but never had he really been bothered by her ability to knock him for six without even breaking a sweat. It had been another part of their relationship that they enjoyed; training together. It was a pattern that had begun almost immediately when she had stepped onto Atlantis. It had been John who taught her to read English, who taught her bits and pieces about the life and culture of Earth and in return she taught him how to stick fight, as he called it.
However, somewhere along the line that balance had shifted; he no longer had to teach her anything, as she had learnt very quickly, however, his learning curve was not as steep. Though, he could happily pride himself in his increased sparring skills, they were still far from competent to fight Teyla on the same level. Sure he could hold his own with her or Ronon for at least 2 minutes now, but no longer than that. And somewhere along the line it had begun to bother him.
As he circled around Teyla, eyes fixed on the movements of her bantos sticks, he realised that it was only recently sparring against her that these new feelings had bubbled to the surface. Maybe it was due to the fact that he hadn't sparred with her for near on a year whilst she was pregnant. Now six months after giving birth it would be difficult for anyone to see any change from her former figure and skill. In fact, it appeared to John that she had become quicker.
He told himself it was all due to her Wraith gene, which even after Tagan's birth she was still becoming more proficient with every day. She had a natural edge over even the strongest marines. Hell, even Ronon had been on the receiving end of her sticks far too often. That John could not beat her was not something to be upset about, and it never really had bothered him before, but recently that had begun to change.
So here he was on the receiving end of her sticks again, against a woman smaller and lighter than he, a woman who had given birth 6 months ago and he was near to collapsing in exhaustion. They had been 'training' for half an hour and they were not pulling their punches in the least. John was aching and more than a little grumpy, perhaps that was why he was feeling this way.
He narrowly ducked below a flying hit and darted back out from her strike range to regain some balance and breath. She smiled at him, but today he could not see the humour. It felt like she was playing with him. That it was nothing more than an effortless game for her. He must appear to be weak and slow and the thought really bothered him for the first time.
He lashed out and she blocked. The hits flew and John's arms ached with the shock waves through the sticks from the impacts. He knew his annoyance was obvious in his attack, but she seemed unfazed. He seemed to have little impact on her, other than the light sweat he could see on her skin. That wasn't enough for him; he wanted to make some kind of impression. Like when he was turning into that bug. He had fought then with a wild power and speed that was beyond him now, but he had pushed her then and won. The thought occurred to him that he was experiencing some sort of hit to the male ego and perhaps his withheld emotions were to blame.
He indicated he needed a drink and Teyla stepped back. He moved towards the bench and gulped down some water and wiped his face and neck with his towel.
It had been when Michael had captured Teyla that John had had to admit to himself that perhaps his feelings for her ran deeper than just a crush. Her absence for a week or so had cut him far deeper than he had imagined before. That she was lost and alone against Michael, and so near to giving birth; it had been a literal pain in his chest that had prevented him from sleeping or eating properly. He had set out on mission after mission, sometimes even on his own time to search for her. And he had had to admit that he had really fallen for her; fallen for a woman who showed no real interest in him other than friendship, a woman pregnant with another man's son. Now Kanaan was gone and little Tagan was safe living with Teyla in Atlantis, but things had just gone back to the way they were before between them. And he hated it, because things were not the same.
She coughed politely from behind, so he took the hint and returned to the sparring match. The hits were traded, but John's mind was focused inwards. His male ego had taken a direct blow when he had learnt of Kanaan, and to still be so easily beaten by her now… Perhaps his ego and male pride were larger than he had previously assumed. In some part of his mind he considered whether he should continue sparring with her a tall. Maybe it would be easier to pull back, as his emotions had begun to make themselves apparent to him during these sessions and were clouding his focus.
Her stick rapped across his knuckles and he leapt back in pain. Cursing openly he shook out his throbbing hand. Teyla looked vaguely apologetic.
"Remember to focus, John."
Her tone was amused again. He usually enjoyed the playfulness they shared when sparred, but today it only seemed to emphasise that he did not shape up to her standards and what she wanted.
The pain had dimmed to a dull throb and he struck out at her, catching her off guard and he managed to push her back for several steps. Both stepped back again, circling, and he saw her expression had changed; she looked surprised and intent. He knew he was being emotional, but he couldn't seem to hold it back. He lashed out in a series of hits designed to be random enough to thrown her off balance. She did not fall for that, but she wavered slightly. She struck back violently and one strike tapped his weakened hand and the stick spun away from his hand. Lost in his battle mind set he barely noticed and reacted instinctively, grasping her wrist in his empty hand as it passed by. He twisted, trying to physically gain an upper hand. She brought her elbow round towards his chin in retaliation. He leant back, but did not let go of his hold on her wrist. Teyla stepped in and kicked at one of his legs, working to knock him down. He tried to trip her in response and suddenly the usual sparring match had mutated into hand to hand. She brought her other arm round and worked to put a head lock on him, using the short end of one stick protruding from her hand to press against his throat.
He gripped the stick in one hand and her arm in another. There was a moment in which they matched each other in strength, but finally John's naturally larger strength won out. She had been unable to complete the neck lock so she twisted away from him. He didn't let her retreat and kept his hold on her arm tight and pulled her back towards him and tried to put his own neck lock on her.
She laughed briefly in surprise to his continued attack. John got his arm around her and pulled her against his side. She lashed out quickly and slammed a stick against his ribs. That gave her enough space to twist out of his near lock and she began to retreat from him. He recovered enough to try and stop her and grabbed out at her, but he only managed to get a handful of fabric.
There was a ripping sound as they parted. They returned to their usual en-guard positions. Only then did John realised he held a handful of fabric. He looked down to see one of the panels from Teyla's skirt in his hand. His eyes moved over to the large expanse of exposed skin now visible along the outside of her left leg. His eyes then jumped up to hers. Was she mad?
She looked as surprised as he in seeing the fabric in his hand.
"Ooops." John offered, but he couldn't help the smile that passed over his face.
Teyla's gaze came up to meet his and though she tried to look annoyed he could see the amusement behind it. "I expect you to repair that, John." She said, circling him, sticks raised again.
John moved opposite her. "You really don't want me to stitch this back on. I can't sew to save my life." The former annoyance had changed into amusement and, dare he admit it, a touch of pride.
She struck out with amazing speed then and he dropped the fabric in reflex. She hadn't allowed him time to pick up his lost stick, so he had only one to block her attack. So he stepped in close and turned it into hand to hand again. She refrained from using the sticks against him this time, and he heard them drop to the floor along with his and it turned into a wrestling match.
Everything blurred into fast quick movements as they twisted and turned against each other. He blocked her fast elbow to his temple and stepped close and used his extra weight to knock her to the floor. As they landed on the tough floor she kneed him in the stomach gently and rolled away.
He jumped up as quickly as possible, to find her waiting, a smile on her lips and what he could only call pleasure in her eyes. They circled again, and he rushed in to make a grab and twist her down to the floor again. She countered and they wrestled against each other, both grunting and laughing. It brought back vivid memories for John of wrestling with his brother when he was young. Unlike during his military hand to hand training, as a child he had enjoyed the play fighting. And he was thoroughly enjoying this impromptu play fight with Teyla.
She was amazingly strong for a woman, but it was her speed and flexibility that gave her her edge over his naturally superior physical strength. He was having great difficulty in taking her down, as she countered any technique he used. She was on the defensive though he realised. She was reacting to what he did for a change, but he was still not gaining the upper hand, so he stilled, waiting, looking for an opening. They stood arms locked around each other, shoulders wedged against each other and both worked to catch their breath, but also keeping up the resistance against each other, waiting for even the hit of a weakness to exploit. She would probably tire before him he thought, but who knew how long that may take.
He kicked out at her legs, working to make her lose balance. She blocked him by lowering her knee into his thigh and kicked out in return. He grunted at the good shot to his left shin. He was going to have some good bruises after this session, but at least she would as well. He worked to get a hand free, she twisted to prevent him from striking directly at her and as she did his hand glided down her exposed side. There had been no force behind it but she reacted instantly and pulled back sharply.
John let her go worried he had hurt her, but knew that he couldn't have hurt her. His hand had grazed the side of her ribs and she had folded back way far too quickly, rather like when… He looked up into her eyes with suspicion, and saw her looking amused still, but wary. He narrowed his eyes at her and knew he was right.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" He asked as they began circling each other again.
She moved in step with him, ready for his next attack, but he saw the slight nervousness in her wide eyes.
"Surely it cannot be that the great and powerful warrior that is Teyla Emmagan is ticklish?" He asked with relish.
"No." She said far too quickly. She realised her rookie mistake and he couldn't help but laugh at her. She tried to glare at him, but she couldn't really sell it. "Only rarely." She explained.
"Right, yes of course. It is a ticklish day today after all." He said, the words dripping with sarcasm.
He darted towards her and she leapt back away from him. He couldn't help but laugh again. "So, is it only your sides?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, but he saw the amusement in her expression as well as the wariness. "Yes, and only on some days."
"Well, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to check that for myself." He said and moved suddenly towards her.
She suppressed a half yelp as he moved, and she almost stepped back from him again, but obviously caught herself in that move and held her ground this time. She tried to block his hands as he went for her sides, but he wasn't playing to the usual rules instead he wrapped one arm completely around her pinning her to him so he had one hand free to tickle her sides. She squealed and tried to wriggle away from him. He held her for a second more before she broke free from him. He followed her retreat laughing at her as he made for her sides again. She tried to push his hands away, but she was already giggling involuntarily and he managed to wrap his arms around her again and tickle her properly.
Teyla giggled more and screamed with delight, she kicked out at his leg and they tumbled to the floor again. John managed to get one knee down first and held her tightly to him to stop her hitting the floor too suddenly. She wriggled in his arms again, the sensation delightful against him. She managed to clamp her arms to her sides, preventing him from tickling her as much and she begged him to stop through her laughter and gasps for breath. He let go of her then, lowering her to the floor properly. He rested his hands down on either side of her, tired suddenly himself from the play fighting. They shared a happy expression, but she was holding herself rather stiffly, wary he was going to start up again.
"Don't worry I promise I won't tickle you anymore…today." He said in delight. His former grumpy mood had completely lifted. In some way he had gained what he had been looking for, to reconnect with her. To be sure in their closeness, in whatever form it was to be.
He looked down at her to her suspicious expression, but her eyes were bright and still very playful. He liked that playful look, and he didn't see it often enough in her lately. She smiled and he returned it, the atmosphere suddenly changing around them. They were both breathing faster than normal, and she was laid out under him as he crouched over her. He felt his body growing warmer at her nearness, at the amount he had been able to touch her, and he could feel it all pooling between his legs. He needed to get up and away from her before she noticed.
She reached up to him and grasped the front of his t-shirt. He looked down at her hand curling up in the fabric surprised, then back to her eyes questioningly. She pulled him down towards her. He was unsure as to what exactly she had planned but he went with it, and his heart rate leapt up as he came down onto his forearms above her. She licked her lips as he came further down over her. The kiss was deep and intense. He totally went with it, allowing himself to lose all thought but to allow himself a taste of what he had longed for for too long. He pressed his body down over hers, and felt her relax under him, her legs sliding against his. Her hands slid up into his hair, pulling him even tighter to her. He groaned deep in his throat as her legs parted around him, and he settled himself down tightly against her. She moaned in response, and one of her hands stroked down his back to his hip and pulled him firmly to her.
Everything was spiralling so unexpectedly out of control and John found himself grinding against her and she whimpered against him mouth. He lifted up from her lips, panting with demanding need. He worked to focus his mind, but she brought her legs up around his hips and slid her hand up his back under his shirt. Any thought he had to stopping this went out the window. She was making it pretty clear what she wanted and he felt pretty much the same.
"Should we really be doing this here?" He managed to gasp out against her mouth. The gym floor felt cold and unforgiving against his arms, let alone how it must feel against her back and anyone could walk in at any moment.
She turned her head slightly looking at the room, as if she had only just considered the same thought. "Possibly not." She replied, looking back up at him. The heated air between them had calmed slightly. "And I need to collect Tagan from Halling soon." She added.
John tried not to feel the massive sense of disappointment that flooded through him. He nodded and she smiled gently up at him, but neither of them moved. Her legs remained high up against his hips, her hand massaging his back gently. On reflection he could stay here for quite awhile. But, he was vividly aware that someone could walk in and this was not something he felt like sharing with the entire expedition. But, if they moved would they ever find themselves back in this situation? He shifted his weight up off her slightly onto his elbows, slid his hands around the back of her cupping the back of her head and leant down to kiss her once again. He wasn't sure how she would react. Was what happened only a heated moment kind of thing?
But, she met his kiss, their lips pulling and tasting each other. John licked her lower lip, teasing her mouth open once again and she deepened the kiss. The heat from before was not as intense, but the passion was no less there. A full body shiver went through him as she sucked on his tongue and he groaned against her. He trailed one hand down over her chest, massaging as he went and she writhed beneath him. She rocked her hips against his and things began to run away again. He guessed five years of yearning would do that, at least on his part. He caressed down her side towards her hip when she broke the kiss and tensed up suddenly. He pulled his hand away from her, but then realised what had happened; he had tickled her, or she had thought he was about to. He looked down at her with an apologetic smile and she laughed.
"Sorry. I wasn't going to tickle you I swear." He promised.
"I know." She said with an embarrassed look.
"Maybe we should stop this for now anyway." He suggested. She nodded, so he rather unwillingly drew his weight up and off her. His body felt suddenly cold without her against him. He sat back from her and climbed to his feet, before he reached down and helped her to her feet. Once she was standing she moved to collect up her fallen bantos sticks. He did the same, and they both headed over to the bench.
As he stuffed his few items into his bag he looked over at her. Her lips were glistening and full from his kisses, and her cheeks were flushed. Her bag packed she looked back up at him. Without any thought he leant in to her, wanting to make her feel him once more. She met his light kiss and pulled away with a pleased smile on her lips.
"Thank God you're ticklish." He uttered happily.
THE END