Title: Pelage

Written By LoveConquers

Part 1/1

Rating: PG

Genre: General, Humor

Characters: Teyla, Dr. Hewston. Slight bend on J/T.

Spoilers: Not really. Mild for season three/Sunday.

Disclaimer: Not mine! Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM.

Summary: Just how did Dr. Hewston find out Teyla has feelings for someone and who that someone is?

A/N: Pelage. –Noun. The hair, fur, wool, or other soft covering of a mammal.

Teyla Emmagan was a woman of infinite patience. Four days of waiting on the Ognathos home planet and still they had not found what they wanted. For Rodney and his team of scientists, it was a chance to gain access to the old city and its mysterious energy levels that had the scientist drumming in anxious irritability. For John and Ronon, it was babysitting duty and an infinitely boring one at that. Four days, and still they had not won the approval of the council. Another meeting was scheduled when the twin moons cast their shadow upon the lake. According to Rodney, it was another long four hours of waiting.

The days on this planet were hot, the evenings cold. They had taken to gathering firewood in the early morning cool and lighting it in the dusky evening light. And the days were spent waiting.

Fortunately for Teyla, she was good at waiting.

She leaned on the railing, scarcely noticing the rough wood biting into her elbows as she stared intently at the ground. The first night had felt a little strange, sleeping in the traditional raised huts of the Ognathos summer village. Located at the edge of a vast sea, the evening tides would often flood beneath the wooden pillars, retreating in the morning and leaving behind salt deposits and a yellow plant material the Ognathian women gathered for their cooking pots. The explanation that it also helped to keep natural night predators away had predictably peaked Ronon's interest. But after four days of nothing, even he had given up roaming the nearby forests. So while a bit strange to sleep elevated above the earth, she had quickly learned it had its advantages too. A sigh escaped her lips, a hidden smile of satisfaction spreading across her face before she could bring it in check.

Yes, she thought, she could be a woman of infinite patience.

"Teyla?"

Teyla straightened abruptly off the rail, spinning around to face the person calling her. "Yes?"

Dr. Hewston stood watching her, arms crossed. "Didn't you hear me? I was talking to you." The young scientist studied her friend curiously. While outwardly composed as always, the Athosian seemed…nervous. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I am fine." Teyla smoothly took a step forward. "Was there something that you needed?"

"I came to see if you wanted to help with supper before tonight's meeting. One of the women thinks our own food is awful and insists she show us how to cook a real meal. Personally I think we should make the guys do it, but—" Curious, the young scientist moved closer. "What were you looking at?"

"It is nothing." Teyla shook her head, taking another step away from the rail. "I was merely watching for a…torab."

"That predator thing that Ronon's been hunting?" Dr. Hewston answered slowly, studying her. "I thought he couldn't find one anywhere."

"Yes, which is why I thought I would try to help him. Now tell me about this meal." Teyla tried to loop her arm around the other woman, to coax her away, but her friend easily eluded her.

"You go ahead. I'll be right there." She gestured over her shoulder. "I need to grab my pack from my room." The only two women on the mission, they had been invited to stay in the women's quarters. The men slept in similar huts further inland.

Teyla stared at her before reluctantly relenting, realizing her actions were only casting suspicion her way. "Alright." She moved gracefully to the stairs, refusing to look back as she made her descent.

The scientist watched her friend for a moment longer, turning as she heard something below. Walking to the upper railing, she cast her gaze downward.

Below her, on the forest floor, between the sandy strip of water and woody growth, Colonel John Sheppard was chopping wood.

As the previous days, it was unbearably hot on this planet, but the cooking fires and evening chill still demanded wood, and out of boredom, the Colonel had volunteered to refill the community woodbin. In the small clearing, he had collected a number of logs, one of which rested on the block. He had shrugged off his shirt in the strong, afternoon heat, and his trousers hung loosely around his hips, offering tantalizing hints whenever he leaned into his work. After four days, his skin had already turned a rosy brown under the warm sun. Dr. Hewston watched him, mesmerized.

Sweat drenched muscles bunched, lifting, reaching, then slamming heavily into the log in front of him. Wood chips scattered, the sound renting the air. His body nearly vibrated with the force of the blow, small beads of sweat glistening off his back. He yanked on the axe until it was free, lifted, and followed through again. Two log halves fell neatly to the ground.

He bent down again, grabbing hold of the cut wood and throwing it into the growing pile beside him before pausing to wipe at his brow. His black hair was damp, curling slightly in even more unruly bunches than normal. She swallowed, jerking back when he glanced up and saw her. He nodded amiably before returning to his task. Embarrassed that she'd been caught staring; she hastened to her room, grabbed her pack, and hurried back down.

As she came down the rough-hewn stairs, she was brought up short by an elderly Ognathian woman, the one who wanted to teach them to cook. Teyla already sat beside her, carefully following her instructions as she chopped a root vegetable. The gray-haired woman looked at her intently, so that her hand reached up to touch her flushed face. The lifting of Teyla's inquisitive eyebrow only worsened the condition.

There was a sudden loud thunk again from beyond and both women jumped. Glancing at each other, they realized they both knew one another's secret.

The scientist felt her face grow hotter as the Ognathian clucked her tongue in knowing disapproval. She quickly took a seat next to her friend, accepting the odd white vegetable she handed over to her with a smile. "You are a lucky woman," she whispered under her breath. "And he is an even luckier man."

"I do not know what you mean." Teyla's mouth twitched.

"Torab." The elderly woman gestured over her shoulder as her knarled fingers made surprisingly quick work of pulling apart the yellow sea leaves, scattering them into her pot.

"Pardon?" Teyla turned from her friend to question the woman. "Did you have need of some for this stew?"

The old woman cackled, eyes crinkled in amusement. "No, torab." She shook her head, gesturing again over her shoulder. "It is good you two are staying with the other women in the protected huts."

Confused, the younger women turned, following the direction of the Ognathian's wave.

John Sheppard paused again in his labor, raising his eyebrows at their look.

They hastily turned back around.

"Ah, torab." Dr. Hewston couldn't hold back her laugh at the expression on Teyla's face. "Who wants to tell Ronon his night predator isn't quite what he thought?"

Teyla couldn't hold back her own laughter, shoulders quaking as her friend gave her a teasing nudge. She nudged her back, clearing her throat as she turned back to her food preparation. She schooled her face, continuing to peel the vegetables in her lap. "I believe we shall tell him the torab has fascinating pelage."

Dr. Hewston snorted, fumbling with her knife.

The elderly woman hummed in acknowledgment.