Spoilers: Up to Season 5, but does include a tiny mention of the new commander of Atlantis and mentions Teyla's son's name (I seem to be writing this spoiler warning for all my fics lately!!)
Note: Part of Fic tag with Gater101, in response to her fic 'Search & Rescue' (lines I used from her fic are in bold). This is a strange little fic, born from an idea I saw in an old episode of Lois and Clark (ahh, memory lane…..)!
Also: Have no idea how long a season is in the gate universe, so I am going with one season equals one year.
Warning: I know, Gater, that you don't like clichés (I almost called this fic "Cliché Hell"), but I ran with this idea and it turned into something I liked.
--
John glanced at his watch for the hundredth time as he strode down the corridor towards her quarters. Where was she?
They had planned to meet up to spar at half ten, and it was now eleven o'clock. He had waited patiently for fifteen minutes, guessing something could have held her up. But even allowing for that eventuality Teyla was never late and if she was she would have contacted him to let him know. Where was she?
He had tried to contact her via the radio, but she wasn't answering. He was one decision away from contacting the control room and sending out a search party, but guessed that maybe slightly premature. So he was on his way to check her quarters.
He arrived outside her door and waved his hand over the sensor that would trigger the chime. He waited and nothing happened. He tried the radio again, but she didn't come back. He waved his hand over the chime again. Should he go in? What if she was passed out on the floor or dying or something? The thought shot his panic level up a little more.
Then the door slid open to reveal Teyla; standing dripping wet in only a towel. John wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but this wasn't it. The momentary relief that she was okay was firmly kicked aside as his eyes travelled by their own accord down to her wet bared skin. She was breathing slightly fast like she had literally just rushed from the shower. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, tendrils sticking to her chest and shoulders. Droplets of water glistened over her golden skin and he made himself look back up to her face. Why was she having a shower when they were supposed to be training? She should take a shower afterwards when she was sweaty.
"Sorry, I thought you'd be sweaty." He started at his words. "Ready! I meant ready... for umm the…for sparring." He said quickly, kicking himself mentally for the stupid little slip up. He was turning into Rodney.
She didn't seem to notice his mistaken word or his leering. "John, I am so sorry, I thought we were meeting at half eleven." She said hurriedly.
"Okay." He managed to say back, unblinking in an attempt to not look down from her face. His eyes slipped down for a brief second, but he pulled them back up. His breathing felt forced and excessively loud to him and he tried not to breathe so much.
She seemed to finally realise her lack of clothing and the intensity of the situation and her grip on the towel tightened. It did interesting things to the cleavage and mounds of her breasts he could see above the towel line.
He made himself step back from the gorgeous woman in front of him. "Don't worry about it, Teyla." Her eyes were wide and she opened her lips. "I think it's breast if I go." He realised a second too late what he had said and froze. "Best. I meant to say best."
She looked as surprised as him, but there appeared to be a touch of amusement now dancing over her expression. "I'll go now." John muttered and turned from her and quickly strode back down the corridor, cursing himself.
--
When she had heard the first chime she had realised instantly that she had been wrong about the training time. After a long meeting with Mr Woolsey over the situation with her people she had returned to her quarters feeling uncomfortable and wanted nothing more than a shower to refresh herself. After all she was supposed to be meeting John in an hour to spar, and she didn't want to be looking and smelling unpleasant for him. So she had stripped off her clothes and had taken a nice long hot shower.
The first chime had put too many pieces of information together in one go. She shut off the water, realising only at that moment that they had agreed to meet at half ten, not half eleven. Which meant that might be John at the door, probably worried about her. She looked through the open bathroom door and saw her radio's light was flashing, someone was trying to contact her and she looked then to the clock sat beside it; it was after eleven already. She jumped from the shower, wrapping a towel around her just as the second chime sang out through her quarters. John would be very concerned about her now and would likely either call in help to find her or enter her quarters himself to check she was alright.
She dashed for the door and opened it quickly to find, as she had expected, John looking very concerned. He looked instantly relieved when he saw her and then his eyes widened and he looked downwards briefly. She realised then that she hadn't put anything else on, that she wore only a dampening towel. Embarrassment mixed with a slight thrill, which was instantly increased as his eyes dropped once more approvingly down her body.
She was vividly aware of the fact that she was completely naked beneath the towel and that John knew it. He said something to her, but she barely heard it, noticing only that he had made some slip up of a term he had used. She rushed to apologise to him, but he didn't appear to hear her, instead began to back away from her. Great, she had unnerved him and her embarrassment factor leapt up higher.
"I think it's breast if I go." He said, and the instant she realised what he had said she watched his eyes widen and his complexion colour. She had rarely seen him properly blush, and it would have been amusing and endearing had it not been in such an uncomfortable situation for them both. He stuttered out a replacement word, looking away from her like he wanted nothing more than to run away from her, and then he did; striding quickly off down the corridor without looking back.
The door slid shut in front of her and she sighed heavily. Great. He had literally run away from her. There she had been feeling the slight thrill of excitement that he had caught her in such a situation, and he all had wanted was to get away from her. She would have thought most men would have taken the opportunity to enjoy the view and flirt with her, but John had not, instead had backed away and left as quickly as he was able.
--
John sat down at the Mess Hall table and covered his face with his hands. Carson and Ronon looked at him expectantly.
"What?" Ronon demanded.
"Nothing." John mumbled from behind his hands, before he pulled them away from his face.
"You're flushed, Colonel. Are you alright?" The Doctor asked.
"No, I'm not alright. I just totally embarrassed myself." He confessed.
"What you do?" Ronon asked with vague interest, whilst Carson looked amused.
The scene replayed in John's mind in graphic detail. How was he going to look her in the eye after that? "I said a couple of things I shouldn't have. Accidently." He added.
"How do you accidently say something?" Ronon asked.
"In a Freudian kind of way. Twice." John replied.
Carson laughed. Ronon frowned. "What kind of way?"
"He said something with a sexual meaning accidently to someone." Carson clarified. "Usually you say one word in place of another."
"Like breast instead of best." John uttered with shame.
Carson looked at him with a large smile. "You didn't?"
John nodded his head.
"Who to?" Carson asked.
Only then did John realise that he had walked himself into a trap. He blamed Teyla again. If his mind wasn't so distracted with the detailed image of her dripping wet in that small towel that had barely covered her chest to the very top of her legs…
"It's not important." He tried to wave their interest away.
Carson frowned at him. "You can't just say you embarrassed yourself with a lady and then not share the details we us."
"Yes, I can." John stated.
"It was a lady right?" Carson asked, and both he and Ronon laughed.
"Yes, it was a woman." John stated. "And I don't want to talk about it anymore."
The two glanced at one another again, smiles clinging to the edge of their lips and he glared at them hard.
They wisely lapsed into unwilling silence and John avoided their looks by focusing down on the brownie he had picked up on the way in to help him feel better about life.
"Why are you here anyway?" Ronon frowned. "I thought you were sparring with Teyla now."
John told himself not to panic and to think up a quick excuse, but already Carson and Ronon were exchanging a look.
"Teyla?" Carson asked with delight. "You made a Freudian slip up to Teyla?"
"Twice." Ronon added helpfully.
"I didn't say it was Teyla." John struggled to regain his composure.
"You haven't denied it either." Carson argued back, obviously really enjoying himself.
John munched on the brownie to give him time.
She chose this moment to arrive in the Mess Hall. What was with her timing today?
He looked back down at his brownie and tried to appear like he hadn't noticed her.
"Oh, it so was Teyla." Carson nudged Ronon's elbow. Both turned and looked to where Teyla was walking towards their table. John cursed them under his breath.
"John?" She asked politely, making it very difficult for him to ignore her any further.
He looked up from his brownie, ignoring the knowing looks from the guys. "Yes, Teyla?"
"Would I be able to speak to you for a moment?" She asked. She looked so composed and in control. The mental image of what her naked shoulders had looked like returned to his mind.
"Sure." John replied as casually as possible.
There was a beat. "Alone if possible?" She clarified.
"Okay." He wasn't going to get away with this he realised, so he shoved his plate onto Carson's tray with a loud clutter and carried the last part of the brownie with him as he followed Teyla out of the Mess Hall.
She led him to the closest empty balcony, the usual place in the city for private conversations. He had finished the last of the brownie by then and was licking the last of the chocolate from his fingers as she stopped and looked up at him. Her eyes dropped immediately to his fingers and they both paused.
She looked away quickly and cleared her throat. John dropped his hand to his side. Great, suddenly everything felt a little too sexual between them. He put his hands in his pockets and waited for her to speak.
"I would like to apologise again for earlier, John. I am sorry for forgetting the correct time of our sparring session."
John waved one hand in front of himself. "Don't worry about it, Teyla. It happens. After all I'm late all the time, so let's just call it even."
She looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow up. "I believe if we were to total all the time you were late over the past four years, I am sure that would be far more than my one time forgetfulness."
"Maybe, but I always turned up in the end. You never worried I was actually dying in my quarters did you?"
"At least when I was late you knew there was a proper reason." She replied and though her words were rather cutting, her expression was amused.
"I'm a very busy man, Teyla. There is always a valid reason why I was late." He clarified.
"Every week?" She asked. "For four years?"
"Well, no, it wasn't for four years was it? We weren't sparring when you were pregnant, or at least from when you told me anyway."
"That is still over three years of tardiness." She responded.
"No, because we weren't sparring everyday. In fact we sparred a lot more the first year you were here." He argued. Then realised that brought up the bug kiss incident. She looked like she was remembering that as well, judging by the way she looked away slightly.
"Regardless, my point stands." She said.
"Fine. I have problems with time keeping." He said to end the growing argument.
"You do not have such problems during missions." She stated.
"What? Of course not, that's important stuff." He realised his mistake after he said it.
"Then sparring is not that important to you?" She asked, looking rather annoyed and hurt.
"What's not what I meant." He stumbled out.
"If it is not the sparring, then you must mean I am not important enough to you to turn up on time for sparring." She sounded cross now. He rarely argued with Teyla and he wondered how this discussion had gotten out of control. It was probably because he had felt so flustered from earlier.
"I didn't say that. You are important to me. I just have things to do and I know you wouldn't hold it against me if I was a few minutes late for sparring. Or at least I thought you wouldn't hold it against me. Hell, it wasn't like I was late for dinner or a date was it!?"
And there it was again; sexual context.
"No, it wasn't dinner or a date." She replied sharply and he got the distinct impression she was annoyed at him even more for that last comment.
He took a breath. "I'm sorry I've been late to all those sparring sessions. Okay?" He forged ahead attempting to repair what had gone wrong here.
She had crossed her arms over her middle, and looked back from staring out at the ocean. She looked calmer. "You are right, I apologise for taking it too much to heart."
He didn't like the idea that she had actually been upset all these years when he had been late to all those sessions.
"I didn't mean anything by it." He said. "I really was busy and didn't mean to be late." It was a half truth.
"I know." She replied, her features schooled and she looked normal again, but he got the feeling she was putting on a front. "I apologise for my tardiness today. I had a meeting with Mr Woolsey and thought we were sparring later."
"No wonder you felt you needed a shower." John joked, but it fell rather flat as it brought the awkward memory back to mind. "I mean, you should have sparred first, gotten all sweaty with me then showered." That wasn't right. "I mean you know…whilst sparring." He really hated himself today. He scrubbed his hands across his face to wipe away the embarrassment he felt at himself.
He looked back at her and saw her smile slightly. "I also would like to apologise for the manner in which I answered the door earlier."
He looked away trying to appear casual, but he could feel the heat in his face. "I'm sorry for interrupting your shower."
"You were concerned for me and I appreciate that. I am sorry I put you in such an uncomfortable situation."
Why did she have to be so controlled and poised, when he felt foolish and embarrassed? "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable either." He replied, making himself look at her in the eyes briefly. She looked blushed as well, which made him feel slightly better.
"If it makes you feel better you can see me after a shower if you want." He added without thinking. He really hated himself today.
She smiled at that and made a show of looking him up and down.
"I'm sorry; my mouth is running away with itself today." He confessed and rubbed a hand over his face again. She laughed with him, the tension finally easing from the situation somewhat.
"That is all right." She said kindly.
"It's all you and your shower's fault." He said back at her. "Threw me off my game."
She laughed with him again. "You did look very startled." She confessed.
"Well I was. There I was imagining you passed out or dying on the floor and you turn up all dripping wet in a very short towel."
She smiled again, but her expression changed to inquiry. "The towel was too short?"
"Not that I mean I saw anything, but leg. I mean they were nice legs, but I've seen them before." He looked away. "Make me stop talking!"
"I am not sure I want to, since you appear to do nothing but compliment me when you do."
He looked at her with a smile. "I'm so sorry about earlier and the whole…Freudian slips thing." He realised belatedly that like Ronon she would have no idea what that meant.
"Freudian?" She asked with curiosity, testing the word.
He shook his head, working quickly to side step that question. "Nothing, just an Earth phrase. Ignore me, please."
She reached out and touched his forearm where it was crossed over the other in front of his chest. "Do not concern yourself about it, John. Let us forget about it and about the tardiness for the sparring sessions. Shall we meet for sparring tomorrow?"
John was immensely glad she was drawing this to an end, and that she didn't seem to be holding anything against him. "Okay. I get off duty at four, so meet you at four thirty?"
"Four thirty." She repeated. "I will remember this time."
"And I will be there on time. I promise." He offered, mentally noting to never keep this woman waiting for him again. He hadn't thought she would have interpreted his lateness as evidence of her lack of importance to him. She couldn't be further from the truth.
"I'll see you later then." John said, waiting for her nod, before he turned and headed back into the city. She seemed happy again and he had gotten away with some ridiculous slips today.
--
Teyla watched John disappear down the corridor and away from view. He confused her. On one hand he had run away from earlier like she had disgusted him, but now he had complimented her on her legs and admitted that she had thrown him 'off his game'. Was that simply because she was female and any man would react to a mostly naked woman that way?
She had tracked him down to talk to him, annoyed and embarrassed herself at how she had answered the door to his chimes. Why hadn't she taken a second to pull on a robe?
Then he had disregarded the incident with a dismissive wave and went on about his tardiness to sparring sessions like it was something that was completely unimportant. Still feeling rejected by how he had bolted away from her quarters earlier, she had taken direct offense to the fact that he was so cavalier about being late to her sessions. She had been thinking of him so frequently lately, wanting and waiting for a sign that he may like her as she liked him. She had waited for so long, but had given up on her fantasy and had accepted Kanaan's interest; a man who admitted he liked her and who wanted to share a romantic relationship with her. John had never shown her any of that.
Her relationship with Kanaan was now over and John appeared to honestly love little Torren, and she had been encouraged by his previous despondency after he had learnt of her pregnancy. She had secretly hoped that might have been a sign that he had been jealous.
But, what had his behaviour today really meant? It was all a little too confusing, so she headed back towards the Mess Hall, intent to have one of those brownies that had looked so good licked from his fingers. Ronon was leaving as she entered and he gave her a strange smile as he passed her by. Her brownie obtained she noticed that Carson was sitting alone now so she headed over to join him.
He looked up from his pudding with a smile. "Hello, Teyla. Everything alright with the Colonel?" He had a strange bemused smile on his face.
She slipped into a chair opposite him. "He appears well, though slightly edgy today."
Carson smiled down into his fruit salad. "That he is."
Teyla regarded him for a moment. "What is a Freudian slip?"
Carson looked up at her with amused surprise. "Did the Colonel mention it?"
She was becoming intrigued by this phrase now. "By accident, yes."
"That in itself could be considered Freudian." He replied. At her confused look, he looked at her more kindly. "Sigmund Freud was a psychoanalyst who developed many theories, but he is most well known for his theories on the subconscious. A 'Freudian slip' is when, by his theories that is, when a repressed desire spontaneously expresses itself. This can be about any subject, but commonly on Earth people use it to refer to when a sexual desire that is consciously repressed, is suddenly expressed unconsciously."
Teyla heard all the words and put the conclusion slowly together; John was repressing his sexual desire for her?
"But, it can be due to other reasons, not just a repressed sexual desire?" She asked.
Carson considered her point. "Yes." He looked at her pointedly. When she didn't say anything else he smiled again. "It's not my place to say anything about the Colonel, but an observer might perhaps disagree with you there."
"Disagree in what way?" She ventured.
Carson exhaled and shook his head. "My mother told me never to play match maker."
Teyla's eyebrows shot up and her skin warmed. "You are thinking about trying to match John and me?" It felt strange to be talking out loud about this subject with Carson.
The Doctor looked a little uncomfortable, and shifted in his seat. "I think nature may already have done that for you two."
"Sorry?"
Carson shook his head again and smiled. He placed his empty pudding bowl aside onto his tray and leant forward over the table towards her and said in a low voice. "The man's crazy about you, but you didn't hear it from me."
With that he stood up and walked away with his tray and a smile. Teyla watched him leave, her mouth hanging open. John was crazy about her? Did Carson really know that for sure, or was he guessing? Then she remembered Ronon's strange smile. John must have told them about how he had slipped up in what he had said to her today. But, the way Carson had talked suggested to her that John's 'craziness' for her was not a new development. John liked her.
She closed her mouth and thought for a while on what she should do now. It would be too forward of her to tell him she knew, as that would put Carson in a difficult position. She didn't want to embarrass John any further today…
--
The next day at twenty eight minutes past four John entered the gym. Teyla looked up with a smile as he entered. He returned the smile and pointed at his watch.
"See, I promised." He said.
"In fact you are early." She added.
"Just never happy are you." He joked as he put his bag down on the bench next to hers.
Teyla laid out the staves she knew he favoured and pulled out a small towel from her bag. She had spent most of last night considering Carson's words, and replaying certain conversations she had had with John over the years. She had read up on Freud in the computer's Earth database she had been given for her laptop. And all that had fuelled her late night thoughts.
She had been waiting for a sign that he liked her and an admittance that he wanted something to happen between them. She had decided that perhaps yesterday's events were the closest he might get. She needed to push the position slightly. Find out for her self if there was something there.
"Are you feeling more settled today?" She asked.
"I haven't walked in on any semi-naked women today, if that's what you mean." He said, smiling. "It's been a slow day."
She smiled back, but the idea of him walking in on other women was not all that pleasant.
"I read up on Sigmund Freud." She told him with a smile.
His face fell from playful to caution in a heartbeat. "You did? Well, his theories are not widely held anymore, as far as I know." He seemed to be about to start rambling. "Not that I know much about psychology. Though, there are analysts who specialise in Freud I believe."
"Really? What would they say about what you said yesterday?" She asked him, looking up at him directly, amused.
He looked at her with wide eyes and then narrowed them. "What exactly did you learn about Freud?"
She smiled, knowing that her face was flushed as was his. "Well, one interpretation of your verbal slips yesterday would be that you have repressed sexual desire for me."
His eyes widened again. "It would?" He asked.
The air seemed to warm around her. "Yes."
"You were naked except for a towel, Teyla." He said and she noted his voice had deepened slightly. "You can't blame a guy for noticing."
"Then you do not have a repressed desire for me?" She asked. She knew she sounded playful, but she added just enough of her disappointment to catch his attention.
He blinked at her and hesitated for a brief second, and her heart jumped with hope. "I wouldn't say I feel anything repressed towards you." He said carefully.
She considered that. "Oh." She said, again allowing some disappointment into her tone. Did that mean he didn't feel anything for her, or that what he felt wasn't repressed? She hoped it was the latter. She decided to switch tactics. "Alright. Shall we start the session?" She pulled out her water from her bag and tried not feel the disappointment or the desperate hope battling it out in her stomach. She picked up her staves and went to turn away from him.
His hand came out and caught a hold of her arm. She stopped and looked up at him, her breathing growing faster.
"Do you want me to?" He asked. His eyes were intent on her and his expression was difficult to read.
"Start the session?" She asked.
"No; have repressed feelings for you." He asked.
She took a breath. "I would not want you to repress anything."
His expression twitched, his eyes widened and he stared at her for a long moment. His eyes shifted over her face and he frowned. "And if I didn't have anything repressed?" He asked.
"Then that is fine." She looked away, making to move away, but his hand on her arm tightened slightly. She looked back up at him.
"I don't have any feelings repressed about you." He stated clearly. "They're all on the surface."
His words simmered on the edge of a potential confession and she swallowed as she looked up at his full eyes.
"What do you feel?" She asked quietly. The question she had wanted to ask for so long simply asked quietly through the gym's silence.
She saw the flash of fear in his eyes, saw the doubt and worry about what may happen now. So she stepped closer, watching the way his eyes darkened, the green colour sliding away making room for his deep black pupils.
"What do you feel?" She repeated.
His hold on her arm tightened again and he pulled her even closer. She moved at his physical request sliding nearer to his body into the warmth emanating from him. It was intoxicating; his body heat, his smell, the dark searching of his eyes that became more hooded as she grew even closer to him. She dropped the staves from her hand and lifted her palms to touch lightly against his chest.
"What do you really feel for me, John? I have waited too long to hear the truth." She whispered.
He drew in a deep breath at that, her hands expanding with his chest, the muscles sliding beneath her palms with his breath. His hold on her arm moved down to her elbow, and his other hand touched against her other arm.
"I've always wanted you." He whispered back.
She parted her lips with a sigh of pleasure and relief. He pulled her fully against him then, his mouth descending to crush against her lips. She pressed back as intensely, reaching up to encircle his neck and to pull his jaw tighter to hers. His arms slid around her, holding her up tightly to him, as he deepened the kiss.
Their lips eventually broke apart, gasping for air, from the intense crushing kiss. He rubbed his lips over her cheek, his tongue tasting her skin. She groaned with the feel of it, sliding her hands through his hair.
"John." She gasped.
His exploration of her cheek led to her ear and throat and he nuzzled into her, drawing in deep breaths and breathing out across her sensitised skin.
The doors to the Gym slid open forcing them to both look round, their cheeks brushing as they stared in surprise at Carson's shocked expression.
"I came to explain myself, but I can see there's no need." Carson stuttered as he walked backwards out the door, his hands up and his eyes averted. His smile was unmistakable though.
The doors slid shut behind him and they looked back at one another. Teyla blinked at John so close and he pulled back enough to look down at her clearly.
"What was that about?" He asked.
Teyla pulled back slightly and his arms loosened enough to allow her to slip more comfortably back to the floor; she hadn't even realised he had pulled her up on her toes during the kiss.
"He may have let a certain fact slip out yesterday." She confessed to him, sliding her hands back down over his strong broad chest.
"Would this be about a repressed sexual desire by any chance?" He asked with a sparkle in his eyes.
She instantly liked the way he had said the words 'sexual desire'; deeply and with emphasis. "It might have been. Though you said there was nothing repressed about your feelings for me." And he certainly hadn't held anything back during that kiss.
His hands caressed up and down her back in long exploratory strokes. "I may have lied about that." He replied, his eyes dropping to admire her chest pressed up against him.
"Really?" She pressed closer again.
"Though, maybe it would be better described as 'denied feelings' towards you."
She smiled up at him so close, taking her time to admire his strong jaw line, his dark eyelashes and the intensely mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
"I can empathize with that." She admitted.
"Really?" His arms closed tighter around her waist and he leant his upper body slightly back away from her so he could study more of her face.
She slid her hands over his chest some more, revelling in the solid warm feel of him through his cotton shirt. "Yes." She replied with a smile.
He leant down and kissed her again, the kiss short but oh so sweet. She didn't want it to end, but he pulled back and his arms slid away from around her, but his hands lingered over her sides. "You want to spar, or should we go find somewhere more private to…talk."
She considered the options. "Well, we might as well spar whilst we're here, we can…'talk' for the rest of the afternoon and evening."
He made a show of looking disappointed, but he willingly enough let her go and reached down to pick up her staves for her.
As he passed them over into her hand he asked, "I wonder what Freud would have said about us stick fighting with each other for four years?"
"I would imagine he would say that we can look forward to a good 'talk' later." She replied as she turned from him with a smile and walked to the centre of the room, swinging her hips more than was necessary.
She turned to see him look up from her turned backside and he smiled knowingly. She gestured to the spot in front of her with one bantos rod and he reached for his weapons and stepped up opposite.
"Does this mean you won't beat me up as much now?" He asked hopefully, his charming smile on full blast.
She worked not to smile at him. "Why would I do that?"
"You don't want to hurt the goods before you've sampled them, do you?" His sexual banter made her openly smile.
"Maybe I want to test the goods first?"
"I was afraid you were going to say that." He muttered. "What does it say when your girlfriend can best you in a fight?"
She would have answered the question, but knew he had thrown the term in to test her. "Was that an intentional Freudian slip?" She asked as she spun the rods in her hands and began to circle him.
He lifted his staves and edged around with her, keeping her directly in front of him. "Maybe. Any good?"
She nodded at him, then lifted one stave and struck out at him. He met the attack and they parried off against each other. As they fought Teyla was aware of both her desire to hold back her hits now, and the other side of her that wanted to push him, to feel his true strength against hers. Maybe both were valid she considered.
John was right; Freud would have had a whole wealth of material to work with with the two of them.
--
END