Title- Perspective
Author- Suzanne
Part- 3 of ?
Date Posted- 05/05
Rating- T+
Pairing/Characters- S/T
Category- Romance
Word Count- 2789
Spoilers- All of Season One
Warnings- None
Archiving- S/T Fever, Gate of Dreams, Heliopolis, Atlantica, Unique Bond,all others please ask first.
Feedback (yes please!)

Summary- Between the Wraith coming and a few misunderstandings, John and Teyla find it difficult to find time to talk about the issues weighing on both their minds.

Disclaimer- I don't own the characters or story concept for Stargate Atlantis, I make no money from these feeble attempts at making these characters live.

Author's Note- Special Thanks to Anna for the great job she did with beta for this story.

And if you'd like to read more of my stories, please visit my Archive which is listed as my "homepage". Just click on the link that says Sanssong and then "homepage" and it will take you right to it!

Perspective 3

Night was a surprisingly quiet place in Atlantis, even on a night like this, which was essentially the calm before the storm. As Teyla rested on her bed, she reflected that her quarters were also quiet- peaceful, and usually a source of calm and restoration, until recently.

A delicate breeze drifted in the open window above her bed and lifted the gauzy material hanging there, bringing with it the salty tang of sea air; a reminder of the ocean's turbulence and power. The subtle dichotomy between the two, symbolized her mood, which was at once euphoric and troubled.

Teyla couldn't seem to put her uneasiness aside to get a good night's sleep, because despite Charin's assurances that her abilities were a gift, she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the descendants of 'the taken' than any of the Athosians knew.

As she fought for sleep, fears crowded her mind; sleep deprived imaginings brought jumbled scenes of terror. Not even John's mind-altering kisses in the corridor could completely turn her attention from her morbid thoughts. It did, however, give her something else to think about. It was her calming breeze.

John had kissed her.

The enormity of that thought was staggering and she still wasn't sure what he meant by it. Sighing, she grabbed her pillow and pulled it under her head as she rolled onto her side in a vain effort to push the confusing events out of her head - and heart.

Her heart, traitor that it was, refused to abandon the cherished hope that his advances were a signal he was interested in something more than friendship. Her head, in seeming league with her heart, continued to dwell on the kiss itself.

Even now Teyla could feel the delicious sensation of his lips on hers, of his strong hands as they held her to him, caressing her most sensitive areas. Closing her eyes she relived every precious moment of their encounter. His kisses were better than she could ever have imagined and her body was aching to continue them with a vengeance. If only they had not been interrupted. If only.

Flopping onto her other side, she sighed again, this time in frustration, as she contemplated the implications. Perhaps the Ancestors had intervened before she committed too much too soon, because despite John's apparent change of heart, she couldn't be sure at this point, if it were genuine or just the result of fatigue and lust.

Ah, what a tangle. She really didn't need this confusion on top of everything else.

In the end, she supposed their kiss didn't change anything; the Wraith were still coming, she still couldn't sleep, Sgt. Bates had even more reason to mistrust her, and she still had no explanation for John's previous attitude toward her. The only way to know for sure was to wait for him to come to her. Nothing had changed at all.

Around and around the thoughts and images chased each other in her weary mind till she drifted off into a light, troubled sleep. Dreams merged with reality as a parade of horrific scenarios played out in her subconscious. By the time morning came, Teyla was exhausted.

In spite of all that, after a shower and a light workout, she felt better and was completely determined to convince Dr. Weir and Maj. Sheppard, to take her to the planet Charin told her about, the planet where 'the taken' had gone.

It proved to be an easy task, due mostly to John's intervention on her behalf. His quiet support during the meeting and subsequent mission to the planet went a long way toward answering some of the questions that kept her up half the night.

Some, but certainly not all.

They'd not had much time in each other's company and John hadn't mentioned anything about the night before in the few moments they'd been alone.

It was sheer torture to be with him all day and not be able to touch him or look at him. She must have caught herself staring at his, perfectly sculpted lips, clear green eyes, silky spiked hair and well toned body a hundred times. It was fortunate for her that Ford pretended not to notice and McKay never noticed anyone but himself. By the time they returned she was strung tight with arousal and mental fatigue.

It wasn't till they'd shed their gear from the mission to the planet and debriefed with Dr. Weir, that Teyla and Maj. Sheppard found themselves together and off duty. Per her decision from last night, she exited the conference room and headed out the door. He would have to come to her.

"Teyla!" John called, as he jogged to catch up with her. "Hey, what's your rush? I thought maybe we could...maybe get something to eat? I know I'm starved."

He looked so unsure of himself, that Teyla couldn't resist his invitation, not that she'd tried very hard. "I would like that very much, Major." She smiled up at him. "I am hungry as well."

"Great," he said, flashing that contagious boyish smile of his. They turned in unison and started down the hallway in the direction of Atlantis' outdoor eating area.

"Ya know, Teyla, you don't have to call me 'Major' all the time," he started, sheepishly, "it's alright for you to call me by my first name, especially after-" He broke off quickly when the echo of footsteps signaled someone walking toward them.

"Yes." Teyla cleared her throat loudly. "Yes, I will try to remember that Maj. Sheppard."

They both nodded to the little Asian scientist who smiled, bowed slightly, and hurried on down the hallway. There were no regulations forbidding a closer friendship between the two of them, but Teyla didn't think anyone else needed to know about their personal feelings.

Touching her arm, John stopped. Instinctively she turned to him only to find him gazing at her with an all-too-serious expression on his handsome face. "Teyla, we need to talk about last night."

Sick dread snaked up through her stomach as it dawned on her that he was going to apologize. She could see it in his face. Oh, God, just when she thought they had moved forward, he was going to take it all back. She was in no frame of mind to handle his speech about how they could always be friends, so she groped about franticly for an excuse, any excuse to leave.

"Uh, Major," she jumped in, cutting him off, "I have just remembered that I have an appointment with Dr. Heightmeyer. I am sorry, but we will have to share our meal another time."

"Now?" John sounded incredulous. "It's after twenty hundred hours!"

"Yes." Teyla struggled to maintain an even tone. "She asked me to come see her when I returned from the planet, no matter the hour. Please excuse me."

"Yeah... sure," John answered, looking more than a little bewildered. "I'll a - I'll see you in the morning."

Without waiting for him to say anything else, she left him standing alone in the corridor.

Watching Teyla leave ruined John's appetite and made him more tired than he'd thought possible.

'What the hell had he said?' he wondered as he made his way back to his quarters. Everything had been going so well, last night and today, he'd thought they were...

God! Would he ever stop doing this to himself?

Angry as hell at himself for once again becoming obsessed with a woman who didn't want him, he took out his frustration on the keypad for his door. Unperturbed by his outburst, it slid open with quiet efficiency. Entering, he striped off his field jacket and sat down heavily on the bed.

He must have been wrong. That was the only explanation he could come up with. She must have responded to him last night because she was too polite to say no and so when he wanted to talk about 'them', she'd been forced to make it clear to him that there was no 'them'.

"Major Sheppard," Rodney's voice crackled from the radio that John had yet to remove.

"Go ahead," John all but snapped as he activated the responder.

"Do you have few a minutes? We could use your help in the chair room."

"I thought Beckett was helping you with that, Rodney."

"Yes, well, Elizabeth took him away to work on her little 'Wraith Data-Node project'. As if we don't have better things to do at the moment," McKay complained under his breath.

John paused for a second; he really didn't want to do this now, but the Wraith were coming and they didn't care if he ever had another date. Grabbing his jacket, he clicked the intercom again.

"I'm on my way, Sheppard out."

Teyla actually did find her way to Dr. Heightmeyer's office after she'd run away from John. It had helped her clear her mind to a certain extent; of course, she didn't share her problems about Major Sheppard. But, she'd felt some better after speaking with the gentle doctor, and hoped perhaps she could actually sleep without a plague of troubling dreams like the night before.

Unfortunately, she was still no closer to the answers she was seeking about herself when she laid her head on her pillow. The knowledge that she could operate Wraith technology was troubling, but in and of itself did not provide her with concrete facts. If Dr. McKay couldn't find answers from the Data Node they'd recovered, she was afraid that she would never know.

Then there was John.

Pain and disappointment engulfed her as she thought of him now, and she choked back the urge to cry. She'd been uncertain of his feelings for her, but no longer. He didn't want her the way she wanted him, despite his actions from the night before. He seemed content with their friendship, so she would have to accustom herself to that limited relationship.

Heartache flashed through her chest like physical pain. How would she ever be able to do that? This time the tears did come and for the first time in years Teyla Emmagan, leader of her people, cried herself to sleep.

She watched the Wraith as it slowly and deliberately stalked toward John's door. Powerless, she stood by as it opened the copper-beige panel leading to his room. Helpless with fear she cowered in the corner as the hungry predator pulled the covering from his body, exposing him for feeding. Anguished, she lost her last shred of sanity when the face of John's killer was her own.

Teyla woke to the sound of her own piercing cry, only to find herself already sitting upright in bed. Pulling her knees to her chest, she fought to control the jerking sobs that continued to wrack her body. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for dreams so vividly real that she was overcome by them even when awake. The images played to her deepest fears and greatest weakness.

There had to be something seriously wrong, her dreams had to contain at least a small thread of reality to be so disturbing. Every instinct she possessed was telling her so. She needed to find John, he was in danger; he must be. Or if he wasn't, he was the one person she knew that would help save her, even from herself.

Decision made, Teyla dashed away the last of her tears and bolted for the door. It opened at her command to reveal the very focus of her concerns, Major Sheppard, with his hand suspended in mid-air, looking very tired and very worried.

Relief rushed though her in great sheeting torrents when she saw him alive and well and before he could say a word, she launched herself at him, nearly knocking him down as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Suddenly, it was all too much and her tears began again in earnest.

Without thinking, John reciprocated, pulling her tightly to him. He'd heard her terrified cry from the end of the hallway on his way back from helping McKay and Zelenka with the chair. It scared the hell out of him and he'd come to make sure she was all right. Standing outside her door, he called her name, and knocked repeatedly, but she didn't answer. He was about to key the override for her lock when she opened it herself.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, "it's okay." It wasn't everyday that John had to deal with a sobbing female; consequently he was more than a little out of his element.

At a loss for what more to say, he gently guided her back over to her bed, sitting her down on his lap and cradling her there in his arms. He'd probably be sorry later, given the fact that she didn't want more than his friendship, but he didn't care.

After a handful of minutes Teyla seemed to settle down because instead of heaving sobs, he now heard only small hiccups. He figured it was safe to venture a question. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

She waited so long to answer he thought maybe she wasn't going to. When she did speak, her voice was hoarse, shaky.

"Nightmares," was all she could manage.

"About the Wraith." It wasn't a question.

Teyla nodded against his chest, but didn't elaborate.

"Come on Teyla, I can't help you unless you tell me."

Silence.

When she didn't say any more, his photographic mind went to work on every reaction she'd had since he arrived at her door, in an effort to figure the details out for himself. She'd been crying; she was obviously going somewhere when he got there; seeing him already at her door provoked one hell of a response.

That had to mean something. A tiny glimmer of hope dangled just out of his reach. Had he misunderstood her reasons for bailing out on him at dinner tonight?

He had to know, he had to ask the question.

"I was there, wasn't I? In your dream?"

She nodded again.

It was now or never.

"I'm not dead, Teyla. Nothing is going to happen to me." He gently gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. What he saw in her eyes robbed his breath.

Oh, yeah, he'd definitely been wrong.

"Kiss me," she whispered up to him. "I know you do not want that from me, but I need to feel something real. Just for tonight, would you kiss me?"

Didn't want that from her, was she kidding? It was all he did want, for God sakes! Then the meaning behind her words clicked into place, leaving him dumbfounded at her misunderstanding. She actually thought he didn't want her.

"Teyla, when you ran off tonight, you thought I was going to apologize for- for, kissing you... didn't you?"

Confused at the strange turn of conversation, Teyla tried to wiggle off his lap and stand up. John had other ideas however, and wasn't about to let her go. "Didn't you?" he insisted again.

"You did not intend to?" she asked, clearly unsure of what his answer would be.

"No," he said, as he caressed her tear-drenched cheek, "not even close."

"I do not understand, Major," she murmured.

"John," he said softly before he touched his lips to hers. "I've wanted to do that all day." He kissed her again, hungrily catching her bottom lip between his teeth. She was so heart-stoppingly beautiful, her hair mussed from sleep, her eyes liquid from crying, all he wanted to do was kiss her until she begged for more. But they needed to talk so -that would have to wait.

It was obvious that her response was still tentative; as if she was afraid to believe what her eyes and body were telling her about him. He was going to have to come clean and tell her the truth.

"Teyla, I..." John's restless hands skated up and down her back and he felt her shiver in response. Unable to help himself, he bent his head to hers and took her lips again, she was like a drug he couldn't live without. God, but she was intoxicating. Reluctantly he pulled his mouth from hers and forced himself to focus on her face. "I wanted you to know that last night was amazing."

"Amazing? You mean...?" She left the rest of the question unasked, but her expression told him she was on the verge of understanding.

"I want a lot more from you than friendship, Teyla."

End Part III.