Don't Tell Me Tomorrow

by: firedew

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Chapter 3

.

She dropped her hand. That one innocuous mistake had brought him here, her luscious body pinned between him and the cold, steel wall, adrenaline rippling through his veins, his heart pounding. Locked in a feverish kiss, John's lips surged against hers, his tongue tasting her, just as sweet as he remembered. She felt so good tucked in against him, so warm, so right.

Breathless, her chest heaving, she'd congratulated him on his victory. "Very good, John. I see your time training with Ronon has not been wasted."

"He's a good teacher."

"Yes, he is. Even so, I am glad you decided to join me today."

"Me, too."

"I have missed our sessions together," she'd said, the light of the gym setting her eyes aglow. She lightly brushed his arm. In that instant, without swinging a single weapon, she'd completely disarmed him.

"Me, too," he admitted in a hoarse whisper.

"Why did we ever stop?"

"Because … it was too hard."

Their bantos rods lay on the floor of the gym abandoned and forgotten. Teyla's fingers ran up his neck into his hair pulling him in closer, deeper, leaving fiery trails radiating over the surface of his skin. Her hand. She dropped her hand. John shoved the thought aside, eager to experience her in every way he couldn't before, desperate to bury his heartache.

The delicate skin of her neck called to him, a siren's song as beautiful as any he had ever heard or would again. She tipped back, freeing his way, silently pleading for his lip's caress. He yanked the strap of her top to fall limply from her shoulder and slowly worked his way down her neck, along the alluring line of her collarbone until he felt her shivering with pleasure. As his mouth explored every exquisite curve, he let his hands wander. One was content to hug her to him, while the other dared more, sliding inside the slit of her fighting leathers to savor the white hot skin underneath.

"Oh, John … " she moaned, her eyelids fluttering to a close. She reached under his shirt, brushing his torso with her sweet touch. Those hands. So deadly, yet he couldn't live another minute without knowing what it felt like to be touched by them. "Tell me. Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want," he said, low and guttural. How could she not? Every time he looked at her, it felt as though it was written across his forehead in big, bold letters. Every time he spoke, he heard his feelings betraying him. She knew how much he wanted her, how much he needed her. She had to.

"Tell me."

"You, Teyla. I want you."

Her hands abruptly moved away from his waist. She cupped his cheeks and his torrid discovery of her body was stalled as he was enjoying her deliciously round behind. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, to see. "John, please."

He gently swept her hair aside. Adrift in the magnetic pools of her eyes, he knew she wanted to hear what he couldn't say aloud. That she was so much more than a night of passion. That her smile made him dizzy and her laugh completely floored him. She needed to know that he'd scale the tower or fly through an atmospheric inferno in a wrecked shell of a space shuttle a hundred times over just for her. He could tell her about all the nights he'd sat up unable to swallow his jealousy of Kanaan, sharing his life with her, wishing TJ was his. And how nothing could have stopped him from going after her when she was taken. He would've done anything to save her and her son from the tragic future he'd seen, even if it meant bleeding out on the deck of Michael's cruiser.

Only he couldn't tell her any of that. He'd tried so many times, but every time he attempted to summon the words, they left him cold.

"Teyla, I …"

Those little words that spelled out the truth lodged in his throat. John gazed down on her beautiful features a failure and the disappointment in her eyes knifed through him.

She isn't real, he told himself. She had never been the real Teyla. His Teyla would never have dropped her hand, leaving such an obvious opening in the middle of a sparring match. If he concentrated, he could feel his bedsheets slung haphazardly over his sleeping form, but the feelings roaring in his blood and what they had shared were more real than anything he wanted to go back to. In the real world, she belonged to someone else. She was happy in someone else's arms and all he had to look forward to was the pain of losing her all over again.

The haze over his dreaming mind was fading as he sensed dawn's approach. He clung to her as she began to drift away. Tears were streaming down her face, but he held on tight. He couldn't let her go, not when he was so close. "No … no, don't …" Then, she slipped through his grasp anyway as though she had become smoke in the wind. No matter how he tried, he couldn't reach her again. "Teyla … "

Lying face down on the bed, his eyes sprang open. His arms already ached for her. Shattered and alone, John clutched at the ends of his pillow and buried himself in it.


Dr. Jay Felger gaped as the doorway to the transporter slid open. John led the way inside as the scientist's enthusiasm began to overwhelm his pasty white complexion. "Amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

"Is it, really? Is it amazing?" Rodney bristled.

At this point, Sheppard was used to giving people the nickel tour of the city, but this one was turning out to be more entertaining than most. The jumper bay, the control tower, the VR room—so far, everywhere they'd visited had merited an unbridled 'amazing' and with each successive one, Rodney had gotten stiffer and turned a noticeable shade of purple.

"Just you wait, doctor," John said, enticingly. "There's still lots to see and before you know it, we'll be in Sector G, Subsection 4. Deep in the heart of Atlantis." That did it, he thought impishly. Dr. Felger was as wired as a kid on Christmas and McKay glared daggers at him. John suppressed the urge to smile. Maybe Felger was annoying—okay, he was annoying—but the little bit of juvenile satisfaction he got from pushing Rodney's buttons was helping to shake the funk that had dogged his every step this morning. For hours, he'd felt like he was walking around with an open wound, seeing her face everywhere he looked. Well, John was tired of hurting and for the moment, goading Rodney was the best medicine he could think of. He'd make it up to him someday.

Col. Sheppard reached for the city-wide map display situated on the back wall.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Dr. Felger cried, throwing up his hands.

Rodney's jaw twisted into a tight knot. "What now?"

"Isn't anybody gonna say it?" he asked.

"Say what?"

"Oh, come on. You know."

"Obviously, I don't or I wouldn't have asked!"

"Why don't you do the honors, Dr. Felger?" John broke in. As therapeutic as it was watching Rodney spinning his wheels, it was the last day before the final batch of personnel went on leave (him included) and he still had a lot he had to get done. If they didn't get moving soon, he could kiss his schedule goodbye.

"Really?"

"Absolutely," John placated him.

"Oh, wow. Colonel, it is anhonor."

After an awkward pause, he prodded, "Anytime you're ready."

"Oh, right." the scientist straightened. "Beam me up, Scotty."

Rodney moaned. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dr. Felger exclaimed excitedly, "I've always wanted to say that."

"I'll bet you have," John muttered, hitting the button with no further delay.

They managed to get through drone storage relatively quickly, but the geology lab en route to the ZPM outlet proved to be more troublesome. Dr. Gira and her team were studying what, despite the excessively difficult scientific name said, ultimately amounted to a rock. A rock with a tremendously dense core they thought might rank among the hardest substances known to man. Dr. Felger, of course, eagerly peppered them with questions. John decided to give him a minute and hung back. Rodney, finding the rock about as exciting as a root canal, did too.

"Remind me why he's here again?" McKay muttered.

"Because with all new labs and your being gone for the next two weeks, Radek needed the extra hands," John reminded him patiently.

"But why him,? Need I remind you that this is the same guy that effectively broke every single Stargate in the Milky Way?"

"He's here because General Landry insisted."

"Oh, so the general says jump and you give Felger a key to my office?!"

John grinned and folded his arms, satisfied. "Exactly."

"Okay, Colonel Kangaroo, answer me this—how is anyone supposed to get any work done when he's shouting 'amazing' every ten seconds?"

"It'll be fine, Rodney."

"That's easy for you to say."

"Buy the guy a thesaurus."

"Seriously? That's the best you can come up with?"

John shrugged. "Off the cuff."

"You know, after all these years, I've come to expect more out of you," McKay chided him.

"That hurts, Rodney. That really hurts," John claimed, but he couldn't help smiling. Every Wraith in Pegasus might've declared their intention to go vegetarian before the great Dr. McKay admitted that he thought John was smart, but he'd just come perilously close.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

Watching Felger peruse the latest topographical schematics from the dig site on MKL-221, John reached for the comm link at his ear. "This is Sheppard. Go ahead."

Chuck, the gate tech, sounded anxious. "Colonel, Staff Sgt. Franklin is still waiting for you to okay the supplies outside to be inventoried. He, uh … he's staring at me, sir."

John smirked. At six-foot-two and closely resembling a brick wall, Franklin had a sense of humor to match. Chuck was probably squirming like an ant under a magnifying glass about now. "Tell Franklin to keep his shirt on. I'll be down as soon as I can."

"Yes, sir."

He stepped into the hallway, Rodney on his heels, scowling. "Don't even think about it. You're not leaving me here with him."

"Duty calls, Rodney. You know the drill. You can take it from here, can't you?"

"You planned this," the cranky Head of Science accused. A subtle shift of John's eyebrows set him off again. "You did, didn't you?!"

"The supply drop was scheduled a week ago, McKay."

"You put Franklin off on purpose just so you could ditch me."

John shook his head, amused. "I'd call you paranoid, but would there really be any point?"

"Oh, just go," Rodney said gruffly. "But if I snap and beat him to death with my laptop … "

" … I'll help you get rid of the body." John clapped him on the shoulder.

Rodney eyebrows shot up. "You would? You … really would?"

Genuine surprise, John observed. How one man could know so much and so little at the same time was beyond him. If it came down to it, he'd have done that and more for the people he cared about.

He smiled impishly. "See you later, Rodney."


"No, no. Decker, wait," John called. He made his way through the swirling activity of people to where the mechanized dolly was getting ready to move out. He pointed toward a large storage container situated in the front of the stack, bearing the wrong serial number. "That crate there goes to the Infirmary, not the Armory. You get a bunch of marines unpacking petri dishes and handling ten thousand dollar microscopes and next thing you know, Keller's new toys are broken and the IOA's laying an egg. Get it squared away." Col. Sheppard quickly scanned the remaining boxes. "The rest of that ordinance is good to go, Lieutenant. And remind Maj. Lorne that I need that count confirmed and his final report on my desk by 19:00."

"Yes, sir," Decker replied, already taking care of the slight mix-up.

Before he could blink, John found another clipboard being unceremoniously shoved into his hands. Frowning, he picked up the pen and started reading. Sign and date. Next. He flipped to the next page. His eyes racing down the invoice, he called across the room. "Radek, how's it coming?"

The disheveled scientist sighed, his middle finger pushing his glasses back over the bridge of his nose as he glanced up. "Well enough, Colonel. However, I still do not see the high-intensity absorption spectrometer I've been requesting."

"Sorry. Can't help you there," John mumbled, scribbling out another signature.

He heard Dr. Zalenka grumbling in Czech, his irritation needing no translation. "What do I have to do? Draw them a picture?"

"I'd suggest writing in really big letters, too," John said. He handed the clipboard back to its bearer, a bored-looking Air Force Sergeant. John couldn't help but sympathize. This was hardly his favorite part of the job either.

She wasn't one of his. He would've remembered. Probably part of the delivery team, he thought. Pretty. Maybe a little tightly wound, but at one point in his life, she would have definitely rated a second look, maybe some casual flirting. But the only thing he felt was a discernible lack of interest. "There you go."

She accepted the clipboard with a polite smile. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome." Nope. Nothing. She disappeared into the crowd, headed in the direction of the pier, and he found it far too easy to go back to directing his little three-ring circus without giving her any further thought.

John settled into a rhythm, losing himself in the constant drone of voices and flow of people, satisfied with just being numb. Crates containing new TAC vests, radios, replacement uniforms all passed inspection and were carried out. Loaded dollies fled the room in a steady stream, Mr. Woolsey coming down to do his part in clearing the clutter as well by overseeing the mess hall restock.

Finally down to the last few loads, John had just given Lt. Harris the go-ahead to take his assigned cargo when he keyed into a high-pitched squeal. He immediately reached out and took the marine by the shoulder. "Just hold it right there, Lieutenant." Quick to obey orders, Harris ground the dolly back to a halt as John searched for the sound's owner.

"Torren …" Out of sight, Teyla sounded a lot further away than the toddler, who giggled anxiously. John walked around the stack of boxes obstructing his view and saw TJ crawling straight into the path of where Harris would have been pulling out.

"Whoa there, pal," John said, cutting off the Torren's escape route and picking him up in a broad, playful swoop. John felt guilty when TJ stiffened. He hadn't meant to scare him. "It's okay, TJ. I got you," he said, patting his back. To John's relief, after a moment of careful study, TJ realized who it was that had him and the toddler relaxed, nestling up against him and looping his tiny fingers up by his neck to play at the collar of his uniform. After a quick wave to Lt. Harris indicating the coast was clear, John smiled and bounced him. "Yeah, you're alright, aren't you?"

TJ grinned in response.

"That's what I thought," John said.

From the very beginning, to John's surprise, it had been easy with TJ. Natural. Not even an hour old when Teyla had entrusted him with her son, John had nervously expected a lot of crying, but the newborn hadn't made a sound. Torren had looked up with his innocent, brown eyes, wrapped his fingers around John's, and just like that, he was hooked. Fast friends, accepted without question.

Tightening his grip slightly, John craned his head around. "Now, TJ, what have you done with your …?" His breath caught in his throat. Like a specter directly from his dreams, Teyla was striding toward him. In her sparring outfit of all things, he thought, feeling the heat start to rise.

Teyla was shaking her head. "Torren John Emmagen …"

At his mother's voice, Torren leaped in his arms and let out a gleeful squeal. Catching on to the game, John chuckled. "She got ya, huh?"

The toddler pointed a tiny finger. "Mum mum."

John looked at Teyla. Beautiful, utterly mesmerizing. And completely out of his reach. He quickly broke his gaze and answered, "Yeah, that's your Mommy."

"I am sorry, John," she apologized as boxes were rolling by behind him. "I was on my way to drop him off with Kanaan. Dr. Kusanagi stopped me for a moment to talk and when I went to pick him back up … " She frowned at her son, but the love she had for him was evident. "Torren has discovered a new game recently. He has decided it is fun to run away from me. I hope he did not get in the way."

"It's no problem, Teyla," he said. "And there's nothing wrong with a good game of chase."

"I just hope it does not become a habit. In my quarters, it is one thing, but it would hardly do to have him wandering all over the city."

"Well, if he does, just remember there's plenty of people around here watching out for him," he said.

Torren had found the chain surrounding John's neck and started tugging on his dogtags. Frustrated that they wouldn't come loose, he adopted a determined look and yanked harder. John chuckled and without thinking, began searching for Teyla's eyes again. He found her quietly smiling at him. At her son, too, but mostly at him. "Yes, Torren has many that would see to his well-being," she said softly.

His heart sped up and he had to remind himself for the second time in as many minutes that she wasn't available, that the idyllic family portrait he'd just stumbled into wasn't the truth. It was probably best that they'd be spending the next two weeks apart. He needed the time to get some distance and try to put his feelings behind him, an impossible task if he had to see her everyday, smiling like that and knowing that the simple gesture meant far more to him than it did to her. While trying to recover, it occurred to him that he had no idea what her plans were for her time away. He supposed if he'd stuck around at dinner the other night, McKay probably would've ferreted it out for him, but since he hadn't …

"So, um … any big plans for your vacation? TJ's probably a little young for Disneyland, but …" A groan ran through his head. He had no idea what he was saying. When had he graduated from pathetic and lovesick to drooling idiot? Maybe it was because he couldn't banish the memory of how he'd woken up this morning, the ghost of her supple lips dancing on his, the blissful, unspoken promise of so much more.

"Tomorrow night, I will be in Washington D.C., attending the party thrown by General Hayden."

" … Hayden." he joined in. John had gotten an invite to that one himself. Just about all of the senior personnel on Atlantis had, but there were only a few he knew of that were planning on going. His invitation had been delivered by none other than Col. Samantha Carter. A few weeks ago, she'd contacted him while the Hammond was Earth-side.

"On New Years Eve?"

"It's not an official function, John. Attendance isn't mandatory. It's just a regular party that just happens to have some of the bigger brass on the guest list. I know Admiral Donnelly was hoping to get a chance to talk to some of the elusive command staff on Atlantis," she'd tried to sell him.

Meanwhile, in the background of her webcam, Gen. O'Neill was furiously waving and mouthing the word, "Run!" John had tried not to tip her off, but Sam turned around and the next thing he knew, the General was towing the party line—unconvincingly, as he was shaking his head 'no' the entire time. "Absolutely, Sheppard. You should come."

Needless to say, he'd begged off the whole thing.

"Well, Washington's got one of the best fireworks displays in the world and Gen. Hayden is pretty decent as far as brass go. He didn't sign off on my promotion, but he's never tried to court martial me, so that's a plus," John said, realizing he was babbling, "And Carter will be there. I'm sure you and Kanaan will have a great time."

She paused. "Actually, Kanaan has made his own plans. He will be accompanying Maj. Lorne on his assigned leave." She seemed to be intent on his reaction.

A cracked "Really?" was all he could manage.

"Evan has generously offered to show him one of the more fantastic sites on your world for this time of year, a … Times Square? I believe that was what he called it."

"Kanaan's gonna be in New York City?"

She nodded. "Then, I think they plan on doing some traveling. Kanaan is eager to see more of your world."

"So, you're going to Washington …" John hesitated to say it. " … alone?"

An anxious smile peeked out. "Not precisely," she said and his hopes fell. "Torren will be coming with me. And I believe Mr. Woolsey also plans on attending."

John's relief flooded through him in a rush, but he was still extremely uncertain as to what he was hearing. "Keep an eye on Woolsey. Make sure he doesn't party too hard. He'll never forgive himself if he pops a seam on that fancy three-piece suit of his."

He waited for the amused, but disapproving look she had so often bestowed on him before, but what he got threw his expectations for a loop. She wouldn't look at him at all.

"You will not be going, then."

"No, I … I have a flight out first thing in the morning. Dave … he's expecting me." Every word seemed wrong.

"Of course. Your family must miss seeing you," she picked herself up and smiled diplomatically.

TJ had ceased pulling on his chains and was entertaining himself by running his dogtags up and down the length of it. Teyla grew quiet and watched her son at play. John tried to do the same, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her for more than a few seconds at a time. What was happening here? Why did she seem so … ?

Disappointed.

John chewed his lower lip. Reading between the lines when it came to women was a skill he'd never perfected and it had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past. What was she saying? Was she even saying anything? A couple taking separate vacations wasn't exactly unheard of. Had she and Kanaan broken up or were his feelings twisting his perceptions, turning them into a cruel mockery of the truth?

John reached for a stronger resolve. Teyla was his friend. No matter how he felt about her romantically, her friendship meant everything to him. If he crossed the line and she didn't feel the same way, they would never be able to go back and he would lose her. In every sense. He couldn't risk that.

"I guess you … probably need to get going."

Her deep, burnished eyes met his. "Yes, I suppose I should. My class will be waiting for me."

John handed over Torren, the slight brush of her arms against his sending his traitorous body into overdrive. "There you go," he mumbled, reining himself in.

"Thank you, John," she said, softly.

His brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

She smiled. "I am fine." She took TJ and walked away, but before she got far, she turned back around. "John?"

"Yeah?" he answered quickly. Too quickly.

"I hope you have a wonderful trip."

He watched her go, his stomach churning. He let her walk away. He had to. Didn't he? He dipped his head and when he lifted it again, she was gone and John was left on edge, suddenly feeling like he'd just made a terrible mistake.