Title: Promise, part 2 of 4
Rating: M
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not for profit, just fun.
Comments: This fic was written kariesue for the Beya Secret Elf Challenge. I'll post one chapter per day.
The following day was a difficult one for John. He let the easy, friendly mood between him and Teyla slip away, and it hurt to lose it because it was so fresh and new after her relationship with Kanaan had ended. He saw Teyla's puzzled looks throughout the morning and felt her gentle scrutiny, but he could not give her anything. He kept to himself and spent most of the afternoon reading in his cabin. The Athosians had built several elevated wood cabins with thatched roofs that made the mainland seem even more like a luxe resort, and there were more than enough for each Lantean to have a bunk of their own.
In his mind, John returned again and again to his conversation with Halling. Sometimes the anger flared up and he wanted to find the man and confront him, force him to admit that what he was asking was unfair. But then he heard Halling's final argument echo in his ears... Teyla will always choose what is right for her people.
And John knew it was true. He had considered telling Teyla about the promise Halling had extracted from him. But that brought up an even more painful realization—he knew that Teyla was interested in him—that much had been clear lately. And if she ignored Halling's request and became involved with John anyway... John flinched away from the knowledge that it would eventually end and she would return to her people and Halling. He couldn't bear to have her, only lose her.
And it wasn't just her—it was Torren, too. John had known he would never replace Kanaan as the boy's father, but he had hoped to become a kind of second dad to Torren. John had always known that Teyla and Torren were a package deal, and he wanted them both.
To become a significant figure to Torren, only to disappear from his life later? John couldn't do that to Torren. Better to let Teyla go, allow her to think that he had simply lost interest. Halling had asked him to not make Teyla's path a difficult one.
John was sparring with her early the next morning just after dawn and was having trouble not watching her trim belly twist and turn above the waistline of her skirt. He had tried to sublimate his longings, but knew from years of effort that it was no good. He probably shouldn't even be sparring with her, but she had asked last night, stopping him on his way to his cabin after the evening meal, looking up at him with clear eyes and an entreating tone, and he had crumbled.
She circled him now in the growing morning light, the slanting rays of sunlight creating bright patterns over her skin as she moved. They had chosen to spar in the clearing next to the bunks where the rest of the team still slept, and the sounds of the jungle were the only noise around them.
"You were avoiding me yesterday, John."
Of course Teyla would be blunt. This was probably why she'd asked him here.
"Not really," he puffed. He was out of breath after only fifteen minutes of sparring in the warm morning air. "Just catching up on some reading." He kept his eyes focused on her shoulders, watching for her to go on the offensive, because he wouldn't put it past her to use the conversation as a way to distract him so she could lay him flat.
"You had plenty of time to take Captain Cadman back to the mainland in the evening," Teyla said, eyebrows raised reproachfully.
John's eyes flicked up to hers and he wondered if Teyla ever felt such a thing as jealousy. "Carson arrived on the Daedalus, and she wanted to meet him. I had some spare time," he protested.
Her face closed and John saw her disappointment in him and his gut tightened with bitterness. Being dishonest with her in this way, no matter how it benefited her, cut him to the quick.
She thrust forward, sticks crashing into his, and for once he was ready, parrying her advance and moving back into a defensive stance and circling her again. Suddenly he lost the will to engage her anymore and dropped his sticks, turning his back to her and reaching for his water bottle.
"I think I've had enough for today," he said casually. "Ronon wants to head out for more surfing this morning."
Looking over at her, he saw her blink, and she turned to put her sticks in her bag. "Very well," she said evenly.
John moved to leave, waiting for her to turn back so he could see her expression, but she twisted her head away from him when he passed by on his way to his cabin. He never did get to see her face before he left.
000000
Propped up with elbows straight so he could look out at the ocean, John dug his hands into the warm sand behind him. Clenching the rough grains channeled his energy only a little and he tilted his head back to look up at the thin pink afternoon clouds overhead, trying to breathe deeply.
Teyla was in the water with Torren, laughing as her son clung to her arm with one hand while he splashed in the shallow water with the other. It was hard to look away and John felt his eyes drawn back to them again and again and he swallowed the yearning that rose like bile in his throat.
It wasn't just her skimpy Athosian version of a bikini or the drops of water sliding down her golden legs; it was that he wanted them both, wanted Teyla and Torren for his own, wanted them to belong to him and be able to call them family. It's what he'd wanted from the day Torren was born and what he'd thought might be his after they returned to Pegasus.
The sun grew hotter, but John still sat on the sand. It had probably been a mistake to join the group at the beach, but he'd worn himself out surfing with Ronon that morning. All the activity of the day, no matter how much he would have once enjoyed it, only served as a way to distract him from the despondency that hung as heavily on his shoulders as Halling's hands.
The man didn't even want Teyla the way John did—Halling only wanted her in order to preserve the race, to unify their people. He didn't think Halling was even that physically attracted to her—nothing seemed to penetrate the man's blank placidity.
Ronon and Amelia had slipped away together and slowly the rest of the Lanteans had filtered away from the afternoon heat of the beach, retreating to the shade of the Athosian settlement set back in the protecting shadow of the jungle. Only McKay and Keller remained and they were both dozing under the shield of a spreading tree at the upper edge of the beach.
Half a dozen times John told himself to get up and leave, but inertia ground him to the spot. He heard the scuff of sand behind him and turned to see Kanaan passing by, hand shading his eyes from the sun as he called out to Torren.
John watched Kanaan splash into the water and lift Torren above his head, laughing as his son squealed and reached for him. John's heart squeezed with envy. Of course John was able to interact with Torren in the same way. In fact, he probably spent as much time with Torren as Kanaan did. But there were no spoken ties to bind Teyla and Torren and John together, other than the bond of friendship. But John didn't want to be a "friend of the family." He knew he should be contented with what he had, but he felt greedy. He wanted more.
John couldn't quite hear the conversation between Teyla and Kanaan over the quiet rush of the waves, but he knew that Kanaan had come to take Torren for his afternoon nap. John knew the rhythms of Torren's life as well as he knew his own.
Kanaan nodded and smiled at John as he passed by with the squirming, wet Torren in his arms. Kanaan rarely spoke to John, but John got the impression that it wasn't because Kanaan had anything against him, but more because the man rarely spoke at all. John returned the nod and called out to Torren, "See ya, buddy," and was rewarded with a gurgle of acknowledgment from him.
John gazed back out at the ocean to see Teyla turning into the gentle waves to walk out to deeper water, gliding the tips of her fingers across the surface of the water. I need to get up and leave,John thought. Now. But he didn't, and saw what he'd known he would—Teyla looking back at the beach, waving at him and gesturing for him to join her. It seemed as though John's body had a mind of its own as he stood and brushed the sand from his shorts, then headed into the waves to meet her. He felt the water pulling at his calves, then his thighs, and he swam out to meet her, zombie-like.
The huge grin that spread across Teyla's face as he neared her in the water twisted his stomach. She was so happy to see him, so thrilled at his presence and he felt like some kind of masochist, tormenting himself and her with his weakness. She had walked out into the water far enough for it to lap at her shoulders, and the beaded strings of her swimsuit undulated back and forth in the blue-green waves.
"You said you would teach me to swim," Teyla said, squinting up at him in the sunlight. Her hair was slicked back with moisture and drops of water were clinging to her eyelashes, and John looked away toward the horizon, watching two circling birds swoop up and down over the water.
"I did, didn't I," he said slowly. He remembered promising Teyla swimming lessons when they had first arrived on the planet and discovered the pristine beaches and bath-warm water. At the time he'd thrilled at her slow smile and acquiescing laugh, but now John knew he should be anywhere but here, in reaching distance of her bronzed shoulders and dripping hair.
"Shall we begin?" Teyla asked, and John could see the challenge in her eyes as she waited for him to reject her, to prove that he was the one pulling away from what had begun to flourish between them.
"All right," he said, and the pleased surprise on her face made him feel reckless, and he watched his arms reach for her as though they were somebody else's.
"Lift your legs and try to float on the surface of the water," he instructed, placing one hand between her shoulder blades and grasping her wrist with the other.
John watched her feet slowly appear above the water and Teyla laughed delightedly when her body lifted effortlessly on the calm surface. He couldn't help but smile at her enjoyment, but he made the mistake of looking down her body, at the water playing over her flat tummy and her strong bare legs rising and falling with the waves. John was irritated with himself as he grew hard in his shorts, and the gentle back and forth motion of the waves against him wasn't helping.
"See how easy that was?" he said, releasing her gently and stepping away, glancing back at the beach to see Rodney and Jennifer still apparently asleep in the shade.
Teyla stood and nodded, smiling at him. "You are a good teacher." She took a step toward him, and John's throat constricted with trepidation. He wanted to raise his arms defensively, back away from her, but something kept him rooted to the spot, unable to look away as she moved into his personal space, coming to a stop just inches from him, looking up at him with a question in her eyes.
Warm drops of water slid down the back of his neck and he felt the current sweeping grains of sand from beneath his feet, and the moment seemed to stretch out endlessly. The water lapped at them and he couldn't look away from her eyes as Teyla's expression grew cautious and she lifted her hand from the water to place it against his bare chest.
John looked down at her and her eyes were so open and full of appeal, and a sense of helplessness in the face of Teyla's unspoken request engulfed him.
John felt as though another man lifted his hand under the water to Teyla's waist, another man pulled her body close, another man set his lips to her forehead and kissed her. Pulling back to look down at her, John saw her eyes widen with pleasure and she crowded up even closer to him, pressing her breasts to him and lifting her other hand to grip his upper arm. Under the water, John's hand slid down her spine to her backside, curving under the swell of her butt and pushing her into him, crushing her against his growing erection.
John felt her gasp of breath against his neck and she lifted on tip toes to press her lips to his, and when he opened his mouth against hers, he could taste the unique vanilla-salt of this ocean and the warmth of her tongue against his own.
Lifting both arms, Teyla wrapped them around his neck and pushed further into his mouth, letting John hold her weight as her feet lifted from the sand beneath them. He drifted his other hand down her body to her thigh, pressing against it and he felt her legs lift around him and a rush of heat filled him at the sensation of her bottom resting in his hands, firm and round.
It was everything he'd wanted, what he had hoped would be his from the minute she had told him that she was no longer with Kanaan, what he had thought was possible until the day Halling had spoken to him.
A selfish part of John pulled her even closer, glorying in the feel of her sweet wet tongue sliding against his. But an even more deeply selfish part resisted, knowing that he couldn't bear to take what he couldn't keep. A strangled, tortured sound escaped from the back of his throat, and he released her, pushing himself away from her.
"I can't do this," John choked out, breathing heavily and backing away from her toward the shore.
Teyla shook her head, a mixture of incomprehension and hurt on her face, mouth open and speechless.
John turned away from her, moving through the waves toward the beach, the pull of the outgoing waves like lead against his legs.
"John!" she shouted, and he heard the authority and anger in her voice, and he had no choice but to turn and look at her.
"Why are you doing this?" Teyla demanded, pain creasing her face.
John was blank for a moment, unable to form any response. "It's better for both of us this way, Teyla," he finally managed, and turned away, heading for the shore, numb with heartache as the water dragged against him.
TBC