Title : A ball brings you back to me

Pairing: John/Teyla.

Rating : Suitable For All

896 words

Summary: 1 Year and 7 months ago John found out Teyla was carrying another man's child. 1 year he stopped talking to her, stopped being able to look at her. But the bond they formed ran so deeply under his skin that he can't let go.

NB: I started writing this before we found out Teyla was going to have a boy so therefore I've written the baby as a girl. I had a 50/50 change or getting it right. And I got it wrong.

Much thanks goes to my lovely and wonderful beta azure-horizon. could hear her laughter; she sounded so happy, giddy even. He was not sure giddy was word that could be attributed to a child so young. But Tarin always sounded like that; so alive, she gave the city a renewed sense of energy. But then again, with a mother like hers it could be nothing but expected.

Teyla had given birth to a daughter. It made so much sense to him: she was such a powerful woman, John didn't know of many, if any, men who could stand equal to her when she was at her highest point. How could she have passed that to a son? Only a woman, a daughter, could hold that power.

Her laughter could always be heard at 2pm on this particular south side balcony every week. It was something that John found himself doing on many occasions. He had a feeling if he ever told the on base shrink that he found himself passing this balcony every week for a year now since they had started this routine, he would get a sideways glance and something along the lines of "and why do you find yourself near this balcony every week". In such a voice that would want to make him shoot the woman. He frowned at that - okay, maybe not shoot her, but perhaps rather aggressively tell her it was none of her god-damn business. Yes, he nodded, he'd decided a while ago that he wouldn't tell anyone that he took this particular hallway on his weekly walk around the city: simply because it was none of their business.

There were other ripples of laughter: hers, unmistakably. And his, also one that could not be mistaken as another's. Though John wasn't sure Ronon's gruff bark could be described as a laugh: let alone a ripple of one. Though it did sound happier than all of Ronon's other gruff sounds. Apart from maybe the one he made after killing several Wraith at once.

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A ball rolled past John's feet. It was a rather conspicuous thing to find around Atlantis, being bright red. Rodney had brought it for Tarin, probably after a phone call to Jeannie asking what the best present for a baby was. It had probably been the best idea after the first present he'd gotten her; but coming from Rodney it was rather touching. Even if slightly wrong.

He was so intent at staring at the ball, remembering, that he didn't hear her walk up to him until he saw her feet. They were bare. She had taken to walking around with bare feet lately and wearing more traditional Athosian clothing. He thought it was probably to teach Tarin about her family, her background. He wasn't complaining, far from it. She looked stunning, just as when he first met her.

They didn't speak. They just looked at one another, a bright red ball sitting perfectly between them, rocking, slightly, completely unnoticed.

"John."

"Teyla."

She looked away from him, not able to bear the weight of his scrutiny, his eyes piercing every wall she put up, every defence threatening to crumble under him.

She saw him move slightly out the corner of her eye. She looked down at him with curiosity and saw him crouched on the floor, staring intently at something she could not see. Then it fell back into place. The reason she had ventured out from the make believe peacefulness that she tried to create for her daughter, for herself. From this particular balcony that regularly saw itself taken over by Teyla on this particular day, at this particular time every week, looked out over nothing but water. It was high enough that if she did not look down she could forget there was a sprawling city beneath it. A city full of memories that up here did not exist.

But she had ventured outside her make believe place. Back into reality. And walked straight into him. He was not meant to be up here; up here he did not exist. She could feel her walls cracking as she thought of him and found herself unwilling to venture back out on to the balcony now that she had seen him.

John was still crouching on the floor, though his eyes were now looking up at her, unblinking, curious, as though he was waiting for her to give him orders. But she couldn't speak, the words stuck in her throat. For the most part he seemed much like any ordinary man. But there were times, like this, when John showed what was underneath the erratic hair, his charming features and boyish smiles. When his eyes pierced straight through her, straight to her soul she saw him for who he really was. He could break her without ever saying anything. She couldn't move, her feet frozen to the spot.

Then he rose. An action that seemed to linger and he stretched his arm out, palm flat with the ball sitting firmly in it.

Another awkward silence, yet they still looked at one another.

"Thank you," she murmured as she plucked it from his grasp.

He nodded mutely, his eyes flicking away from her. He didn't say anything as he turned and walked away.

Turning back to the balcony once he was out of sight, she smiled over at Tarin, holding the ball out in front of her.