AN: Please see Chapter 1 for disclaimer and spoilers.

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Another hour later Ronon and Teyla were still battling, although their audience had diminished significantly as the sky outside of the city darkened. The last few Marines trickled out of the gym just as the sun disappeared completely under the horizon, whispering to each other about the fighters' respective techniques.

Ten more minutes went by with just the two of them in the room, continuing the dance, spinning within millimeters of each other then breaking away to circle the outside of the mat.

Teyla broke the silence first, her low voice breaking the stillness of the room like ripples on a pond.

"It is late," she said, still circling like a cat ready to pounce.

Ronon smiled as he tossed one of his Bantos rods over his shoulder, twirling the remaining one dexterously.

"Does that mean you give up?"

She laughed, a melodious sound that seemed to caress him like a breath of fresh air, before she attacked and the conversation was stopped by a rain of wood upon wood that lasted mere seconds before calming again.

"No."

Her answer did not surprise him in the slightest. They circled each other for a few more seconds. Suddenly Ronon stopped. Teyla tensed, waiting for his next move . . .

. . . which was to walk over to the bench and put down his rods.

He smiled at her, picking up two water bottles and tossing one in her direction.

"Well I do," he said matter-of-factly, his eyes dancing as she deftly caught the bottle but dropped one of her sticks in the process.

"I should've done that while we were fighting, maybe I would have won," he smirked, earning a glower from his companion as she bent over to pick up the rod. Her hair slid over her face and blocked her vision of him, giving him the opportunity to gaze at her unabashedly for a second or two.

Ancestors, she's beautiful, he thought before covering his slack jaw with a yawn and a stretch. He turned around to pick up his gym bag, shouldering it and moving towards the door.

"How much money do you think Kavanagh lost today?" he asked her as they left the gym.

She tilted her head to the side, considering.

"Before or after you 'accidentally' stepped on his foot?"

Ronon blushed slightly. It had been accidental, although he hadn't admitted it. Teyla had put a rush of energy into her offense at that point of the match, and it had driven him off balance slightly.

Liar, a voice in his head told him, sounding remarkably like Sheppard. You got distracted by her hair again.

Inwardly growling at his offending subconscious, Ronon had to admit that he was right. Teyla's hair had gotten stuck to her perspiring forehead, and she had brushed it away with a flick of one Bantos rod before smoothly continuing her fight.

This simple movement had frozen Ronon's mind for a split second as he contemplated her hair, which led to him being surprised enough to step back off of the mat, and onto Kavanagh's foot. The scientist had yelped a bit, but was quickly silenced by some of the Marines near him, and the match had continued.

Ronon glanced sideways at his companion. She had a habit of distracting him, off-world when he watched her trade for her people, during briefings when he was astounded by how much attention she paid to Rodney's explanations of different planets' technological significances, and sparring, when just a simple flicking of her hair could render him inert.

How does she do this to me? he thought. Does she even realize it?

He shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to their walk.

--

Ronon felt her fingers brush his arm, and an electric tingle shuddered through him. They walked onto a balcony and stared out onto the beautiful scene. He came up to stand next to her, leaning over on the balcony to gaze at the water. A salty breeze came up to flit around them, and he felt her smile. He glanced to his right, and once again was struck completely dumb by the sight that met his eyes.

Her eyes were closed, her face upturned to the darkened sky as if to bathe in the moonlight. Her hair had come mostly out of its ponytail yet again, and wisps of it caressed her face. Ronon felt a sudden and strong desire to do the same. Shaking himself out of this reverie, he looked down in embarrassment, but she hadn't noticed.

"It's beautiful," he said, hoping she would mistake the deep roughness of his voice as remnants of their exertion.

Teyla breathed deeply.

"Yes, it is."

On an impulse, Ronon scooted a little closer to her and said, "So are you."

Her eyes snapped open, and he instantly regretted his decision.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . ." he stammered, backing away hastily. Teyla turned towards him and he gulped at the look in her eyes, a predatory gaze that she wore sometimes when they were sparring and she was about to kick his rear end all around the gym.

Thus, Ronon was caught completely by surprise when she grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him.

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A/N: Heeheehee -dissolves into giggles- I forgot how much fun these guys are to write. Next chapter will be the same time period, only Teyla's perspective.

E. Nagrom: Yay! I'm really glad you liked it, like I said it's not very long, but hopefully this chapter keeps you interested!