Choices
by Soledad
Disclaimer: The settings and the canon characters belong to Showtime, Gekko and other PTB. Only a few original characters and the plot belong to me.
Author's notes:
This story is a side product to my ungodly long, Zelenka-centered Atlantis AU, "Moments of Joy" and take place among the same settings. The main difference to canon is my personal take on Athosian society. As Teyla is the only one who seems to have a surname, I simply assumed that it was actually her title as the leader of the tribe and not a surname at all. Also, I assumed that her tribe wasn't the only one on the entire planet – that would be a bit hard to believe, wouldn't it? So I made them the tribe that lived in close proximity to the Stargate, for reasons they didn't want to share with outsiders.
Dedication: I was surprised to learn that there are other people aside from me who liked the abrasive Dr. Kavanagh. So, this one is for my fellow KavTolAnom members on LJ. Have fun, ladies!
Beta read by Rizzy, whom I owe my heartfelt thanks. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Part 1
It didn't take long for Teyla – no longer called Emmagan, as leadership of the Athosian tribe that was now living on the mainland had been transferred to Halling – to realize that Major Sheppard wouldn't be the right choice for her. Sure, the fact that she was now a mere representative of her people in Atlantis left her more freedom to choose new bondmates, and finding these outside the tribe was considered a good thing. They had been inbreeding for too long already. Anika and Marta had been the last ones coming from a different tribe. It was time for a change, time for bringing new genetic traits into her people.
So yes, she was more than willing to seek bondmates from within the Atlantis crew. There were many good-looking, intelligent, dedicated people. And despite the profound cross-cultural differences, Teyla was certain that the people from Earth would accept the Athosian custom of clan marriage, sooner or later. They didn't really have any other choice, with no way home and only half as many women in the city of the Ancestors as they had men.
Right now, they were still clinging to their ideal of twosome relationships, which was understandable, as this type of family had been the norm for them for at least two thousand years. But they would have to adapt if they wanted to survive here. Dr. Zelenka had already made the first step, even though some aspect of his new family still were kept secret from his fellow Earthlings. More would follow, eventually.
But not John Sheppard. Not for a long while yet – if ever. The man was self-absorbed, arrogant and completely unable to adapt. He was always trying to shape the world according his own tastes – which, Teyla know from personal experience, simply didn't work that way.
If she was honest with herself – which she usually was – she had to admit that she was nursing a personal grudge against Sheppard. The man had misled her when first visiting the old homeworld. His behaviour had suggested – for an Athosian – that he was interested in an alliance, forged by the personal bond of two leaders. Such bonds, while not very common, did exist between two tribes, and usually led to a merge. Well, her tribe had begun the slow process of merging with the Earth people. But John Sheppard had only been flirting, flashing his cocky flyboy persona, even after their relocation to Atlantis.
Teyla had misunderstood the signs, and it cost her her leadership. Now she was the only Athosian in the city of the Ancestors – save from Marta's frequent and lengthy visits – and had to try her best to create a new household here. A household that would contain Earth humans, mostly.
She went to the gym to work out and so clear her mind. It was past midnight; at this late hour usually no one worked on the machines, built creatively by the engineers in their nonexistent spare time. The only other person there was a tall, well-built man – but not so ridiculously over-muscled as many young soldiers seemed to prefer – working on one of the gluteus machines. The man had dark, wavy hair that reached dow to his shoulder blades, and offered an impressive sight, even with his back turned to her.
It was a nice back, actually, with strong, but not overly broad shoulders, tapering down to lean hips and long legs – the kind often seen among Athosians in both hunters and warriors. Teyla caught herself eyeing the man appreciatively. She wondered who he could be. None of the soldiers, obviously – they all had to wear short-cropped hair. One of the scientists, then. Only that she couldn't remember having seen one with such a lush mane.
Granted, she didn't often see any scientists other than doctors McKay and Grodin, sometimes perhaps Zelenka, but still, she should have noticed such a promising specimen already.
Like all people, Athosians did care for physical attributes – but their preferences weren't exactly the same as those of Earth humans. They sought attributes in a potential mate that would be helpful in the eternal struggle against the Wraith. Physical strength was a desired trait, and so was quickness, both in body and mind. Caution was welcomed as well as a stout heart, for one who panicked easily didn't have a chance during a Wraith attack. The ability to sense the presence of the Wraith was also highly valued… but extremely rare. She could not hope to find such a mate among the Atlantis crew, but that wasn't a problem, as he already had the ability herself.
What she needed right now was a new start – she needed to select one new partner first, preferably before her current fertile cycle was over, to found a new household that would replace the one killed by the most recent Wraith attacks. She could always add further members to the household. One step a time. But she had to make the first step, or else she would have to wait until the next summer season to conceive a child.
This chance meeting provided her with an opportunity to make a new acquaintance, and she was determined to use it. She only needed to consider a proper tactic to approach the man. One that would not give off false signals – she had learned to be very careful with her body language among these people. One grave error was enough. She didn't want to make another one.
Before she could make her move, though, the man made his. Obviously finished with his exercises, he stepped down from the machine and snatched a towel from the nearby rack to rub his sweaty neck and face. While doing so, he turned halfways to Teyla, who stood as if rooted to the metallic floor from sheer surprise.
Even without the glasses and that lush mane pulled back into a tight (and not very attractive) ponytail, the man was easy to recognize. He was also the last person Teyla would have expected to find here.
What was Dr. Kavanagh doing in the gym, alone, in the middle of the night?
To say that Dr. Calvin Kavanagh was not the most popular person in Atlantis would be the same as stating that the ocean was wet: painfully obvious. People didn't just dislike him; they seemed to positively love to hate him. Teyla could never truly understand why, no matter how often Dr. McKay or Major Sheppard tried to explain it to her.
Sure, the man was abrasive, but so was Dr. McKay, and nobody avoided him like a contagious disease for his manners. People also often complained about Dr. Kavanagh pointing out every possible detail that could go wrong, and that in the most contrary manner possible. But nobody could say that he had ever been wrong when voicing his concerns. Even Dr. McKay had to admit, no matter how reluctantly, that Kavanagh, just like Zelenka, was a brilliant engineer. But since Dr. Zelenka was friendly and easy-going aside from his brilliance, McKay always gave him the interesting assignments (well, the few ones he didn't keep for himself, anyway) and put Kavanagh to jobs nobody would volunteer for. Like sewage-treatment duty.
Yes, Kavanagh bitched and complained about that all the time, too, and no, it wasn't always pleasant to listen to his rants. Truth be told, it was never pleasant. But he always did his assigned tasks to one hundred percent proficiency – and some more.
True, he always pouted about his work not being appreciated, and that attitude became old just as quickly. But as far as Teyla could see – which was not very far, as most of Earth or Ancient technology was hopelessly beyond her understanding – people really did not appreciate his work. Teyla still remembered vividly the accident with the puddle jumper wedged into the Stargate, just a few weeks after their arrival to Atlantis. According to Dr. Grodin, Kavanagh had raised the same concerns as Dr. McKay himself pointed out somewhat later. For some reason she couldn't understand, Kavanagh got put down for it, in a rather humiliating manner. McKay got nothing but admiration for his 'selfless insight'.
Sometimes Teyla asked herself if she would ever understand these people from a distant galaxy.
Kavanagh must have felt her presence, because he turned around – and froze. The formerly thoughtful expression upon his face (and not an ugly face by any measure, Teyla noticed absently) give way to an annoyed scowl.
The man had no reason to be annoyed by her presence. No true reason at least. But Teyla understood that Dr. Kavanagh probably considered her as part of Dr. McKay's team – as an ally of the people who made his life miserable.
It was a strange logic but, as she had realized some time ago, rather common among Earth people.
She needed to show the man that he'd been wrong in judging her based on the circle of her new friends. Said friends probably wouldn't understand why she cared for Kavanagh's feelings (most people assumed the man didn't have any), but again, Sheppard's team didn't have the same priorities as she did. She was running out of time and couldn't afford to leave a possible candidate out of consideration, no matter what other people in Atlantis thought about this candidate.
"Dr. Kavanagh," she said and inclined her head with the gesture of a formal greeting. "I did not expect to find you here."
The scowl deepened considerably.
"Not all scientists are whiny little boys who can't lift anything heavier than a screwdriver," Kavanagh said angrily. "I used to play basketball in college, and was on the athletic team, if you must know."
"Then why come here late in the night, in secret?" Teyla asked. "The gym is open for everyone, isn't it?"
"I don't want the brain-deprived military to think I'm trying to suck up to them," Kavanagh replied curtly. "If they knew I'm well capable of taking care for myself, they'd feel useless. And believe me, that makes them cranky. Well, crankier than they already are. Like Bates, for example."
Teyla nodded. She'd had a few unpleasant run-ins with the no-nonsense, slightly paranoid Sergeant Bates herself. She knew all too well how unreasonable Earth soldiers could be if they chose to.
Kavanagh shot him a knowing look, and they both nodded in understanding. There was no need for words. They were both outcasts, in a way. Teyla because she didn't belong to the expedition team (or to anyone in the expedition team, like Marta), and Kavanagh because – well, she still didn't really know the reason.
"What are you doing down here, in the middle of the night?" Kavanagh finally asked. "You usually work out with Major James T. Sheppard."
"I wanted to think over things," she replied, missing the weird cultural reference, although it wasn't the first time she'd heard Sheppard called that. "A lonely workout usually clears the mind."
That caught Kavanagh's attention.
"Are you having problems with the Dream Team?" he asked sarcastically, but not in an unfriendly manner.
"No," she replied simply. "It wasn't their fault that I misread the message."
One ironic eyebrow rose almost to the roots of that lush mane. "What message?"
"I thought they wanted an alliance," Teyla explained with a shrug. "I was mistaken. And then, I realized my mistake too late, and my people were gone and I was alone among strangers here."
"An… alliance?" Kavanagh repeated, obviously not understanding her choice of word. His eyes seemed huge without the glasses.
"A bond," she tried to explain it better. "To create a new household. Major Sheppard was sending out confusing signs. I misinterpreted them. That's all."
"Oh," Kavanagh finally understood. "You thought he was really interested, while all he wanted was to flirt, right?"
Teyla was familiar enough with English speech patterns to understand his meaning.
"More or less," she admitted. "I was somewhat in a hurry. My entire household was killed during the two recent Wraith cullings. I must found a new one, soon, before my fertile cycle ends. We cannot afford to remain alone for too long, or the genetic heritage of our ancestors could get lost, forever."
Kavanagh nodded. It made sense that the Athosians would marry at a fairly young age and have children by the dozens. That might be the only way to avoid complete eradication by the Wraith. There was safety in numbers.
"So you are looking for a husband?" he asked. That made sense, too. There were many good-looking young men in Atlantis, even though he, personally, didn't consider Marines as the best breeding material. But perhaps the Athosians saw it differently. Strong men, like that Halling character, had better survival chances than weak ones.
Which didn't explain why that pretty girl, Marta, had chosen Zelenka, of all people, of course.
"I'm looking for a household," Teyla corrected. "But one partner would be a beginning, yes." Seeing the man's confusion, she carefully added. "Our ways are a bit… different. We cannot afford twosome bonds – that wouldn't ensure the protection of our children. I used to have two male bondmates and a female one, and we already had three children between us, when the Wraith caught us on our way to a new settlement. My mates were killed or taken. I was badly wounded myself, but somehow managed to run and hide. When we were found, there was no trace of the children. The hunters looked for them but never found them."
It cost Kavanagh some time to recover from his shock, which wasn't caused by Teyla's sober, matter-of-fact report of her family's extinction alone. The background information that came with the story was just as hard to take.
"You live in group marriages, then?" he finally asked. Actually, strange as it was for someone coming from Earth's Western culture, it did make sense. Such a practice provided more chance to save the children from growing up as orphans.
Teyla nodded. "The custom developed quickly after the first Wraith cullings, just like our semi-nomadic lifestyle. Even so, survival is a victory hard won." She paused for a moment, then asked hesitantly. "Do you have a household of your own, Dr. Kavanagh?"
The man shrugged, his eyes darkening with some old pain.
"I was married once, yes," he answered, "but when our younger son turned out… damaged, my wife couldn't live with that and left me, taking our firstborn with her. After a long and rather ugly fight, I finally got my older son back. My sister and her husband raise them; they're childless, themselves, and happy to do so."
"How can a child be 'damaged'?" Teyla asked. "And what kind of woman would leave her child behind, no matter what's wrong with the child?"
"Tommy is mentally disabled," Kavanagh said. "He will never develop beyond the mental state of a six-year-old, or so they say. He needs special care and will need it as long as he lives." He sighed tiredly. "I don't blame my ex-wife for running away – it's a very hard thing for a parent to watch their child to stagnate and fall back behind other children."
"Was that the reason you ran to another galaxy?" Teyla asked, not feeling particularly understanding at the moment. Kavanagh shook his head.
"I was chosen for this expedition because I'm one of the best. That they pay for it more than anywhere else was just a bonus. Special care isn't cheap: the doctors, the teachers, the medication – it all cost a lot of money. My sister and her husband don't have that money. Besides, I am Tommy's father. And if I can buy for him the chance of a happy life, coming to a different galaxy isn't such a high price."
Teyla nodded in agreement. Athosians did everything in their power to ensure the survival of their children. She found it only natural that Earth humans would do the same.
"What about your other son?" she asked. Kavanagh smiled. It was a surprisingly pleasant sight; it positively changed his face.
"Liam is healthy, fortunately. In fact, he seems to have all the intelligence his brother lacks. He goes to a special school for gifted children. Which isn't cheap, either," he added dryly, "so I really need the extra payment we get for the risks we're facing here."
Teyla had already learned a great deal about life on Earth – before everything else that people had to trade their work and knowledge for small objects called 'money', and then again, they had to change that 'money' for things they needed. It seemed to her that on Earth, the greatest concern of people was how to acquire enough of that 'money', or else they wouldn't have anything to eat or to wear; no homes in which to live, no respect, no influence. She wasn't sure she'd like to live on Earth, despite the Wraith threat here. It seemed such an… unnatural way to live.
"Don't you miss your sons?" she asked quietly. That earned her another annoyed scowl… and an answer that made her begin to understand why people generally disliked Dr. Kavanagh.
"Of course I miss them, don't be stupid!" the man snapped. "Still, what good would it do for them if I were at home, but they couldn't get the care and the education they need? Besides, my sister is a good enough mother to them – better than most, in fact – and her husband has more time to spend with the kids than I could ever hope to have. They are better off with them."
"Perhaps," substitute parentage was a common thing among Athosians. In fact, it was the basics of and the reason for the whole clan marriage system. "It deprives you of the joy of seeing your sons grow up, though."
Kavanagh shrugged. "I have pictures."
"And that's enough?" she asked doubtfully.
The man scowled again. "Of course not! But it's better than nothing," he hesitated for a moment, then asked. "Want to see them?"
The offer surprised Teyla greatly, especially as she knew that Kavanagh wasn't the person who'd share anything personal with others, not even with his closest co-workers. But perhaps that was the reason why he'd chosen to let in a complete stranger. Solitude was a heavy burden to bear, more so in a foreign place. She knew that all too well, even though people were generally a lot friendlier to her than they were to Kavanagh.
"I'd like to," she answered softly. Kavanagh nodded abruptly and walked out of the gym. He didn't even look back to see if she was following him.
Part 2
She did follow him, of course. Her interest was piqued now, and she wanted to know what nobody else seemed to know – or to be interested in – in Atlantis: the kind of person the unpopular Dr. Kavanagh was without his cold, arrogant mask.
The man's quarters were bleak and impersonal like a storage room, the narrow cot neatly made, and the desk almost unnaturally well-ordered. As if all that belonged to some human-shaped machine, not a flesh and blood creature. There seemed to be no personal items at all in that room. Somehow Teyla found it a sad thing.
Without offering her a seat or anything else, Kavanagh sat down to the desk and powered up the small, rectangular device Earth people called a laptop. Rummaging in a plastic box for a moment, he found soon enough what he was looking for: a thin silver disk that he put into the sliding shot of the laptop. He touched a few buttons on the keyboard, and the small images on the plain black viewscreen – they were called icons, Teyla had heard from other scientists – were replaced with the image of two boys sitting on some indefinable place. Outdoors, most likely, as there were trees and grass to see.
The boys were round-faced and bright-eyed, with an unruly map of dark blond hair. One of them – the taller, stronger one – bore a striking familiarity to his father, right down to the wire-rimmed glasses.
"That's Tommy," Kavanagh said to Teyla's surprise. "He has weak eyes, too."
Strangely enough, it was the older boy, the supposedly healthy one that looked more fragile. And there was a sadness in his eyes that made him look much older than his actual age.
"He looks so sad," Teyla whispered, her heart going out for the boy. Kavanagh nodded grimly.
"He never quite got over the shock of his mother running away with him. He was only four years old back then."
"How old is he now?"
"Eight. And Tommy is six," Kavanagh hit a key and the picture of the two boys was replaced with one of an entire family. There were, aside from the kids, three people in the picture: a ruddy-faced man with curly blond hair who looked disturbingly like a younger version of the treacherous Genii leader, a thin, reddish-blonde woman and a tall, handsome young man who had some faint resemblance to Kavanagh.
"My younger brother, Dion," Kavanagh said. "My sister Siobhan and her husband, Patrick."
"And where are you?" Teyla asked. "Are you not part of the family?"
"I took the pictures," Kavanagh replied. "I'm in the other ones."
He showed her some more photos, where he could be seen with his sons and siblings. The last photo was that of two elderly people, sitting in high-backed chairs, with an unnaturally stiff posture.
"My father is a priest," Kavanagh explained, staring at the silver-haired, dignified-looking man with the iciest eyes Teyla had ever seen. "A… religious leader, you would probably say. And my mother is his faithful shadow."
"You are religious?" Teyla asked in surprise, because that was the last thing he'd have expected from the arrogant scientist. Religious, that meant someone like Halling in her mind, and nobody could be more different from Halling than Dr. Kavanagh.
"Not even close to it," Kavanagh answered with a harsh laughter. "After having lived in fear from an unforgiving God during my entire childhood, I turned my back on religion as soon as I turned sixteen. My father disowned me for leaving the one true path and declared in front of the entire community that Tommy's… condition was a punishment from God for my unfaithfulness. We haven't spoken again since then. I never set foot in his house after that."
"I can see why," Teyla commented quietly. Kavanagh nodded.
"It was hard enough to accept that Tommy is… well, the way he is. And that his mother couldn't bear to see him day after day. But to believe in a god who would do this to an innocent child, just to punish me for not going to church anymore… sometimes I wonder how could have someone as cold and cruel as my father produced good people like my sister and brother."
"And you still keep his picture?" Teyla said in surprise.
Kavanagh shrugged again. "Only as a reminder to never ever become like him. There is that risk, you know. We are very alike in many things. More alike than I'd feel comfortable with."
"Is your father arrogant and rude, too?" Teyla asked bluntly.
For a moment, Kavanagh glared at her murderously – and then he began to laugh.
"Touché," he said when he finally could speak again. I do have that reputation."
"And well-earned, too," Teyla added, grinning. Kavanagh grinned back at her.
"You spend too much time with McKay. You're beginning to take on his prejudices. For him, everyone who doesn't worship the earth under his feet is arrogant and rude."
"Actually, this is Dr. Zelenka's opinion," Teyla corrected. "But he also says that you are very good at what you do – just unpleasant to work with."
"He says the same thing about McKay," Kavanagh said.
Teyla nodded solemnly. "It's true for Dr. McKay, too. Dr. Zelenka is a very observant man."
Kavanagh grinned. He actually liked Zelenka, not that he'd ever show any sign of it. But he couldn't help it – the wispy-haired little Czech was almost preternaturally likeable.
"And he's a very good engineer, too," he said. "He deserves better than being McKay's sidekick… although, if I think about it, he's probably the only one who can handle McKay so that McKay still believes himself in charge. That sneaky little bastard!"
Teyla felt the thinly veiled affection beyond the words that, nominally, would have been insults. She suppressed a smile. She knew that everyone in Atlantis liked Dr. Zelenka – she just hadn't known before that 'everyone in Atlantis' included Kavanagh as well.
"We all have our little tricks to survive, Dr. Kavanagh," she said.
He looked at her in a rather... strange way for a moment, as if considering whether he should trust her any further or not. Then he seemed to have come to a decision.
"Calvin," he offered hesitantly.
Teyla frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"My given name," he explained. "You may use it, if you want. This is not a formal meeting, after all, is it?"
"Calvin," she repeated, trying the sound of it. "What sort of name is it? It sounds different from the ones your people usually have."
"It's a fairly traditional name in religious families," Kavanagh pulled a face. "I used to hate it when I was a kid. But after a while I found that it suited the person I have become – for good or for ill, I'm not sure."
"It does have a hard edge," Teyla agreed. "Just like you, most of the time. Still I don't really think that it suits the person you are in the inside. The one you've just allowed me to see. Do your siblings call you Calvin?"
"Not really," Kavanagh admitted with a rueful grin. "My sister calls me Cal, which is okay, even if it sounds silly. My brother calls me Batman, and I'd be extremely grateful if you could keep that piece of information confidential. I'd never live it down."
"Why not?" Teyla wondered if she was missing another cultural reference thing here.
"Batman and Robin were the heroes of our favourite childhood stories," Kavanagh explained; he looked almost embarrassed by it. "Dion, my brother, got them from a friend, as we weren't allowed to read such 'shallow' stuff. We used to read them under the blanket, with a flashlight, so that our father wouldn't catch us. I read a lot of my favourite stuff that way," he added thoughtfully, "which is part of the reason why I've needed glasses since I turned ten, most likely."
"You weren't allowed much as a child, were you?" Teyla asked, feeling strong compassion for the boy the man used to be.
"Nothing that would have even remotely had to do anything with fun," Kavanagh replied wryly. "But between the three of us, we always found a way around our father's stupid rules. We'd have gone mad, otherwise."
"You don't really strike me as a rule-breaker," Teyla remarked. "In fact, your colleagues say that you are a true stickler for the rules."
"Science is something profoundly different," Kavanagh said. "In science, there is clarity, even if we don't always see it right away: cause, effect, natural laws, structure. You break the rules, you pay the price. Not because you've made some deity angry but because nature is what it is: consequent and indifferent, regardless of who you are and what you want."
"And that gives you great comfort, doesn't it?"
It wasn't really a question, but Kavanagh nodded nevertheless.
"It does. People can be dishonest. Nature cannot. It might kill you, but it won't deceive you with false hopes and promises that were never meant to be kept."
"Like your wife," Teyla said.
"Ex-wife," Kavanagh corrected. "But you're right. The marital vow states: 'in good and in bad times, till death do us part'. We both promised that on the day of our wedding."
"That is a very serious promise to make," Teyla said.
"I meant to keep it," Kavanagh replied simply. "And I believe that Bethany – my ex-wife – meant it, too, at least when we married. She was just… she was too weak to keep it, when the bad times started."
"Which is the reason why you hate weakness and incompetence so much," Teyla said. "I have heard about your strong reactions to failure. They are feared, I'm told."
"In a place like Atlantis, weakness is unacceptable," Kavanagh said. "It puts others at risk. That's a luxury we cannot afford. Especially with the Wraith hovering in the background."
"There are different sorts of strength, doctor…" she trailed off, a little uncertainly. "Is it all right if I call you Calvin? I do not wish to usurp your sister's name for you."
Kavanagh nodded in agreement. "We aren't close enough for that," he said. "I already told you that Calvin is fine. But if you want to…"
"Later, perhaps," Teyla offered, "when we've come to know each other better."
That ironic eyebrow climbed up again. "You want to know me better? Where does that sudden interest in my unworthy person come?"
"You've been an enigma for me, from the beginning," Teyla answered thoughtfully. "I knew nothing about you, just what the others told me – which wasn't very flattering."
"I'm not surprised," Kavanagh commented. "What surprises me is the fact that you've apparently given me a second thought. Not many people tend to do that."
"You are brutally honest," Teyla said with a slight smile, "and that's something most of your people aren't comfortable with."
"What about your people?"
"We try to be very honest to each other, as we need to be able to trust each other unconditionally if we want to survive. It's not always easy, because of hurt feelings, and sometimes we fail," Teyla admitted. "But we try. As I see it, the only difference between you and us is that we try to deliver the truth gently. You don't seem to have such concerns."
"I don't see a reason to walk on eggshells around grown people," Kavanagh shrugged. "Besides, I'm always honest with the kids, too. It keeps them well-grounded. And it makes them strong."
"Are you sure it does? What if they misunderstand you and come to believe that you don't care for their feelings? How did they take the news that you were leaving for a long time – probably forever?"
"Siobhan and I discussed this with the kids," Kavanagh said with another shrug. "They know – well, at least Liam does – why I've accepted this job. And Tommy… He's more used to Siobhan and Patrick than to me."
Teyla wasn't entirely convinced, but there was an infinite sadness in the man's voice, so she chose not to argue anymore. It wasn't likely that they would come to an agreement in this anyway.
For a while neither of them spoke, and the silence grew between them, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. Kavanagh stared at the small screen of his laptop, at his children playing in the grass in some suburban home's garden. His eyes were distant and sad but dry… the eyes of a man who found great comfort in a decision already made.
"Have you ever considered having a new partner?" Teyla finally asked. "It's not good to be alone."
"Considered? Yes," Kavanagh replied, "but I realized soon enough what a hopeless case it was. Who would take a single parent, with a damaged kid? Besides, I always tended to have long working hours. Women like their partner at home, every time and again."
"True enough," Teyla agreed. "That's why our custom is better. If you have several spouses, you're never lonely. Someone's always there for you."
"Not for you at the moment, apparently," Kavanagh pointed out.
Teyla nodded. "True again, but that's a temporary situation. One that I intend to change, very soon."
"Why are you in such a hurry?" Kavanagh asked, a little bewildered. "I understand that you don't want to be alone – who would? – but you're young enough. You have plenty of time to find a proper partner."
"No, I haven't," Teyla said. "Our bodies are more attuned to the seasonal changes of our old homeworld than yours are attuned to the seasons of Earth. Our women are only fertile during the late summer and autumn seasons. That ensures that babies would be born in springtime, when food is aplenty. If I don't conceive within the weak that's left from the autumn season, I'll have to wait almost a year until my next fertile cycle." She paused, then looked him directly in the eyes and added. "That's why I need your answer now."
The sound of Kavanagh's jaw hitting the floor could probably be heard all the way to the Gate room.
TBC