Note: Guess what? I still do not own Stargate: Atlantis.

Chapter 13 – Felicity

Ronon had been sick only twice during the entire seven years that he was a runner so being sick while on a mission not only surprised him, it infuriated him. It was supposed to be an easy one. He and Teyla were to go to a village on this god-forsaken ice-ball of a planet and just keep their ears open. They were supposed to stay together and keep their weapons hidden. Information gathering was not his strong suit but Teyla never missed much and he would be there if things took a violent turn. He liked when just he and Teyla went out so he didn't mind the mission.

When he started sneezing though, it was a different story entirely.

There was no warmth in the entire village. Teyla and Ronon had both been outfitted with cold weather gear but the warmer Satedan climate had done nothing to prepare him for the bone deep cold that a planet made from ice could bring.

Teyla and Ronon booked a room in one of the two inns that the village housed and then they moved to the bar downstairs. No one seemed to think visitors were at all odd, even though, Ronon thought as he sneezed hugely, he could not imagine why anyone would want to visit this place.

Teyla shot him a sideways glance as he sneezed again, her eyebrow raised as he cursed slightly afterwards. He ignored the glance and stalked over to the bar. He tried to look casual as he leaned against it and ordered a drink for himself. He felt Teyla move in behind him so he ordered a drink he knew she liked as well.

They took their drinks to a table that was near a group of men that were talking quietly, their heads bowed together. Teyla sat with her back to them, she leaned back in her chair just a bit, tilted her head as she listened to them talk. They were talking about local diplomacy but she only heard about a minute of their conversation before huge coughs interrupted them.

Ronon was feeling worse by the minute. On top of the sneezing and coughing, he was feeling achy and tired. "Are you alright?" He heard Teyla ask, her voice worried.

"I'm fine." He growled, pissed off and not completely sure why.

Her brow furrowed as another coughing fit wracked his body. "Ronon –"

"I'm fine!" He snapped, just before he sneezed again.

She gave him a look that said she was losing patience. "Go up to the room and lay down. I will find you some medicine."

"You aren't going out without me." He gave her a challenging look and leveled his gaze, daring her to argue.

"Fine." She smiled and even though he was angry and sick, he would be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. "You can come with me to find medicine before you go to bed."

He watched, irritated anew as she pulled the thick hood of her coat over her hair and stood to leave.

It was sometime later when they got back to their room. Ronon was exhausted and still angry for no ascertainable reason. Every time he sneezed, he got madder. Teyla turned back the covers in the bed and instructed him out of his wet outer clothes. He complied, too tired to fight anymore, and crawled wearily into bed.

He coughed as she spooned up his medicine and took it with a scowl on his face. She deposited the bottle and spoon nearby and sat on the edge of the bed. "Go finish the mission." His voice was scratchy.

She pressed a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature but then she pushed back at his hair, ran a gentle hand down his cheek. "Not until you fall asleep and I call Dr. Beckett again."

He swallowed, let his eyes fall closed and tried to ignore the great pressure in his head. He felt her small hand brush against his and he opened his eyes, just for a moment, grasped her hand tighter and felt a tiny bit of warmth flow through him, he felt his anger start to melt away.

They would both later chalk it up to the fever and the medicine but just as sleep claimed him, he said something that he had wanted to say since he met her. He breathed it, a whisper she tried to convince herself she had misheard. "Stay with me, Teyla."

Ronon leaned against the door frame at the entrance to Teyla's room. He was taking what Elizabeth said about her needing a friendly face seriously and it was habit now, spending the better portion of his days with her. More than that, it was habit to allow himself this moment, just before she welcomed him in. This moment to lean against the door frame, trying to look as casual as possible, one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded across his chest. He drank in her sight.

She was a creature of routine and he came to her at nearly the same time everyday. She had given him total access to her room but unless she looked like she was in pain or asked him in, he waited and he watched her. She was getting better. It was a slow and painful process, her recovery, but she never complained. He had seen the traces of fatigue in her eyes after a long session of physical therapy. He had watched as she buried her frustration at the slow progress with her shoulder and leg. She wanted to fight again, she wanted to be free of pain and full of life again.

Teyla looked up from the book she was reading and smiled at Ronon. "Come in, I lost track of the time."

The bruises were gone now. Some of them had healed quickly, before she was released from the hospital. The ones that had been bone deep, a result of repeated blows had taken longer. Other wounds didn't heal so well. New scars would be added to those she had already carried.

He wondered now, as he moved to sit on the edge of her bed, which scars bothered her the most. Was it the ones on her face? Three deep lines expertly stitched closed. They were still angry looking and the shiny new flesh only made them stand out more. Was it the marks on her back? Only a few stitches had been required there but Ronon had seen her back, she would carry those scars forever. Maybe the one on her calf bothered her. The deep cut went from knee to ankle and it had given Dr. Beckett a bit of trouble when he had to treat it. Her arm was scarred from the burns, darker patches where the skin was too smooth. Only a couple of the cuts on her breasts and stomach had been deep enough to scar but her surgeries had added additional scars to her shoulder, leg, and stomach.

They didn't matter to him at all, of course. Teyla had noted once, quietly, almost embarrassed but with a hint of irritation in her voice, that no one really looked at her when she talked anymore. It was guilt, he knew. They had all thought she was dead and living with the fact that they had given up, inadvertently played a part in her injuries outweighed their relief that she was alive. The scars, the wheel chair, the protruding bones and weary eyes all just reminded them of their failure.

He though, he had seen her injuries when they were fresh, had seen her unconscious and weepy. He had watched her face as she described what was done to her. If the scars meant she was healing, then he welcomed them.

Ronon shook his thoughts away and picked up the book she had set down. "Why aren't you doing your exercises?"

Teyla leaned against the pillows propped behind her. "I woke early."

"Where is Elaine?"

"She knew you were coming and she did not want to hover over me while I was reading."

Ronon flipped through the pages of her book, careful to keep her place marked with one finger. "Did you have trouble sleeping last night?"

"My legs are aching."

He said nothing, only nodded. He flipped over the book. "Is this one any good?"

Teyla shrugged carefully. "It is one of Dr. Weir's. I find it much more interesting than the last one."

"Did you ever finish that one?" He shifted around to sit more fully on her bed.

"No, I stopped and read the end."

He smiled at her. "Told Dr. Weir you liked it, didn't you?"

"It is nice of them all to bring me entertainment." She gestured toward the pile of diversions on her desk. There were comic books from Sheppard, more books from Weir, crossword puzzles from Beckett. Next to her bed sat the laptop Rodney had brought for her. To her barely masked surprise, he had sat with her for hours, patiently teaching her how to use each function.

"They worry," he said simply. "Did you write in your journal?" He asked with a little grin.

She scowled at him for knowing her well enough to call her out. "What do you think, Ronon?"

"I think Heightmeyer is not going to clear you if you don't start doing what she wants."

She sighed. "You are right. I just do not feel like writing about everything. It is bad enough to constantly have to talk about it with her. I would like to write about something I actually want to remember."

Ronon shrugged. "So write about something else."

Teyla smiled. "This from the man who broke his cane rather than use it."

He scowled and stood to place the book next to the laptop. "I didn't use the crutches, why did they think I would use the cane?" He turned to face her then, "Let's take a walk."

The balcony they favored was in a rarely used part of the city. He liked to take her on long meandering walks and it was a long one to this balcony. He locked her wheel chair and watched her eyes fall shut as she breathed in the clean, crisp morning air.

"Ready?" He asked as he held his hands out to her.

She grinned up at him, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. She placed her hand in his and let him tug her up to a standing position. She rested her weight on her left leg, the one that had been cut and she only winced briefly. He helped her get her good arm into the little cuff of her crutch.

"How does that feel?"

She sighed and smiled again. "Wonderful." She had been devastated when Dr. Beckett had told her that she could only use her crutch to walk during physical therapy and maybe for a few extra minutes each day. She was tried of the wheel chair, of depending on everyone else, and having freedom dangled in front of her, only to have restrictions placed on it was hard to swallow.

Her broken leg was still in a cast but Dr. Beckett had given her a sandal-like thing to wear so that she could walk a bit on the cast. She could only use one crutch because her shoulder was not strong enough to use a second one.

Ronon placed a hand at the small of her back, ready to catch her if she should stumble. She looked at her feet and walked slowly. Physical therapy was getting her used to putting weight on her legs again but Dr. Beckett told Ronon that he could help her practice walking a bit each day. "What did you do yesterday?" She concentrated on putting one foot carefully in front of the other.

She had a busy day the day before and they didn't see each other. "Dr. Heightmeyer." He made a face at her that had her chuckling. "Then I hitched a ride to the mainland."

"Oh?"

"Halling asked me to go visit."

"How is everyone?" Halling had visited her in the infirmary, but other than that, she had not seen any of her people in months. She couldn't wait to go see them all but she knew that it was impractical until she could walk better.

"Good. Almost harvest time." He paused as he helped her turn around to start walking the other way. "I might give them a hand with the harvest."

She stopped and looked at him. He could be such a nice man. He ducked his head down a bit as he shifted her sling back to its proper place on her shoulder. "Maybe you can come too." Their eyes locked and he saw relief there, she wanted to get out of the city. But as her eyes got lost in his, as his hand drifted from its place on her shoulder down her arm, he saw something else in her eyes. He saw her eyes darken just a bit, saw them flick down to his lips before she drew a bit of her bottom lip into her mouth and dragged her gaze back up to meet his.

She knew it had been cowardly, avoiding what had been brewing between them before she was taken. But the both of them had seemed content to focus on getting better. They danced around each other, settling back into being friends before facing what was becoming the inevitable. So it would be impossible to know who was more surprised when her lips pressed against his. He got over his surprise pretty quickly and settled in to enjoy the kiss. He pulled her closer, her hands were restrained by a sling and a crutch but he didn't think twice as he circled his arms around her and lifted her up slightly to take the weight off of her injured legs and pull her up closer to his height. "There is something about this balcony." He muttered between kisses.

He felt her smile against his lips and he deepened the kiss. He leaned back against the railing and she worked her arm out of the crutch. He felt a tentative hand dance up his back moments after he heard the crutch clatter to the ground.

Teyla broke off the kiss and laid her head on his shoulder. She smiled and placed a gentle hand on his cheek as he kissed her neck. "Teyla," His voice rumbled against her neck. "I can't go back to pretending this isn't happening."

"No," She breathed as she realized how at peace she felt in that moment, how unfair they had been being to each other. "No, we should not."

He pulled away, gave her a little mischievous smile. "Maybe you will have something to write about in your journal now."

She smiled as he helped steady her on her feet, as he helped her with her crutch. For the first time since her whole ordeal, she didn't have pain or fear in the back of her mind. She wasn't remembering what had happened or willing her legs to work better. Instead, she was thinking of this, of Ronon and as he focused on her feet, on helping her walk again, she thought that maybe he was right. She would have something to put in that journal now.

Note: This chapter was a bit of a gift for the Teyla/Ronon fans. Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, or a Happy Kwanzaa. Be safe and eat a lot! Now review! New chapter on Thursday. -Brynna