Title: Golden Spears
Summary: They're one; fused together by the molten gold filtering in the window, alight with the same intensity as the Sun.
Characters: Sheppard, Teyla, Torren & Kanaan
Pairing: Sheppard/Teyla & Sheppard/Kanaan
Rating: T
Word Count: 954
Episode: Season 5, Ghost in the Machine
His fingers skim her arm, ghosting over the skin he's wanted to know for years but has been too afraid to touch. He watches the small movement of her neck – skin rising and falling – as her pulse beats a rhythmic staccato against her flesh and he feels something tighten in his chest. He knows she's deliberately not looking at him as she focuses on the last rays of sun splitting the room open with golden spears. The skin around her eyes wrinkles slightly and he watches as her chest rises and falls in quick succession, her body reacting to his touch even though it doesn't want know.
She doesn't tell him to stop – she never has – but he's aware that she wants him too anyway. A part of him resents that she can push it all aside – that she can pretend the last few days – few years – hasn't happened. He can feel the pain in his chest still, the wounds still open and weeping, while hers have already sealed. He knows what – or rather who – her salve is but he doesn't lend though to that.
Elizabeth is gone his mind screams, his heart aches and he wishes that she would understand that. He sent her to her death and, machine or not, he knows now that she is never coming back. There was a time when that would have affected Teyla – when she would come to him as he has come to her now. But it seems that time has passed but he's not ready to give up on it yet.
Torren lies in the middle of the floor on a thick rug and John almost regrets the infant's presence. He is in a mood to spar, to beat the pain away but Teyla is neither inclined nor interested and that festers in his gut. But sparring between them, he knows, is never just sparring and he hates that they have to think about that now; he knows that even if Torren John hadn't been there she would have fled their space and it is that small fact that heralds Torren's presence to John.
"You're not saying John Sheppard-"
Standing outside the room he'd almost laughed. Because if he was... He pursed his lips at that and looked away, his fingers falling to his side and he can hear her slow exhalation of breath and he feels something resembling smug pride gnawing at his lips. Torren gurgles and John watches him quietly, feeling Teyla's presence at his side. He knows she doesn't understand his presence, can feel her apprehension in the way she glances fervently to the door. John doesn't care that Kanaan could come in, doesn't care that he's seriously invading her space, or that she is leaning away from him slightly.
He knows she wants this – she must. Because if she doesn't... He doesn't think about that.
"You're not saying John Sheppard is-"
"No."
Because if he was, he smirked, if he was... He closed his eyes and shook his head at the thought. He wasn't – wasn't sure he wanted to be, anyway – but the thought that Elizabeth thought he was – that they – that he and Teyla; it made his stomach feel like it had been ripped out of his body through his colon, that his heart had been jack-hammered against his ribcage with such ferocity that it had stopped beating.
He steps away, his skin sighing along with her. The outer room of the gym is cooler than their sparring sanctum and the sweat that had begun to gather at the base of his back begins to vaporise. He waits there a moment, watching what he knows he should have had; watches as she steps away from the wall and into the middle of the room. The sun catches her hair, her skin glistening in the molten afternoon and he's against her in moments. They're against the wall, his body crowding hers and he knows that she wants this because she doesn't push him away. His hands in her hair pull her head up and his lips seek hers out, testing, wanting, fierce. He's not sure if she reciprocates but her hands are on his arms, warm, grounding – pulling and he feels her body surge into his. They're one; fused together by the molten gold filtering in the window, alight with the same intensity as the Sun. She rasps out a breath as his lips attach to her neck, licking, sucking, wanting. Her hands urge his though he's not sure she has to push him very hard. At her shoulder, he nips and bites, sucking gently to ease the wounds before his lips are back against hers moments later, seeking and needy, plundering her warmth. He's not sure it's a fight to be won but it's a battle none the less.
They break apart, resistant to the distance, her lips following his for a moment, his body feeling hers more thoroughly for an instant before she slackens against the wall. He opens his eyes, watches as her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks for a moment. Her eyes are glassy and dark, her lips inviting and he touches them again, gentler this time, eyes open and he feels her breath against his cheek when he pulls back.
He watches her eyes for a moment before he pushes off the wall and walks backwards into the outer room. He nods to her once, waiting for her response and turns. He hesitates only once before following the golden shards of light into the shady corridor. There, he passes Kanaan and he can only glance in his direction before walking silently by.
"You're not saying John Sheppard-"
"No."
He feels his lips tingle and he closes his eyes.
Because if he was...