CHOICES
by Soledad
Rating: 16 and beyond, for this part.
For disclaimer and background trivia see Part 1
PART 8
His abrupt choice to turn the simple agreement into a full-fledged household bond had also turned the modest ceremony into an all-out feast. It was surprising how quickly the Athosians could produce heavily laden tables, with food and beverages for everyone present, not to mention music and song and dance. It was the most surreal event he'd ever taken part in, including his first wedding, performed by Reverend Luther Kavanagh, Rector at St Andrew's; the first time his unforgiving father had spoken to him after his break-out.
The festivities were still going on, and everyone pretended not to notice when they sneaked away. Teyla had kept her own tent on the mainland, a bit on the side of the settlement, where her old friend and mentor, Charin, could keep an eye on it. It had been prepared for them, with fresh sheets on the bed and scented candles and a pot of stout tea on the low table, to give them strength for what they were about to do.
The Athosians treated the whole issue as the most natural thing in the world, but also with reverence and joy. There were no dirty jokes, no double-meaning in their remarks, no slimy encouragements. Their manner was respectful and joyous, so refreshingly different from the way how the majority of the Atlantis crowd would have reacted.
And yet Kavanagh felt nervous. It had been a long time since he'd as much as touched a woman, and even longer since he'd touched one he actually cared for. He used to have a thing for Dr. Frasier, back in SGC, but she only considered him a good friend (which they had been, in fact), and besides, she died before he could have figured out the right approach. And the quickies with the female lab rats just didn't count. Those had been mostly for stress relief, on both sides. None of those women had shown even a remote interest for his person – and the feeling had been mutual. He couldn't have imagined any of them wanting to become the mother of a child like Tommy.
"Are you having second thoughts?" Teyla asked quietly.
He shook his head. "No. Just a little performance anxiety. It's been a long time since I was with anyone."
Teyla laughed. It was a surprisingly deep, pleasant sound that seemed to come directly from her belly.
"Have no fear," she said, while her nimble fingers were already loosening the knotted leather tie – the Athosian version of a belt – on his waist. "I shall take good care of you."
Kavanagh was willing enough to let her call the shots. He didn't know how Athosians did this, after all. What they liked. What they preferred. So he was perfectly content with lying on his back and letting Teyla straddle him and do all the work. Having two make bondmates must have provided her with sufficient experience.
His cynical attitude was washed away he moment she went to work in earnest. The incredible focus on his reaction, the single-minded determination to bring out the best of him was dizzying. He arched into her touch with a hunger he never knew he had in him. As if something had snapped in him, deep within, in some hidden place, setting free all the passion he'd held bottled for too long. He didn't even realize that the growls he could hear faintly through the throbbing of blood in his ears came from him. The heat inside him was tearing him apart, seeking a way out, like molten lava.
Never before had he allowed himself to let go completely. Tall and lanky he might seem, but he knew he was stronger than he looked and could have hurt his partners had he not held back. Teyla, however, was different. She was his proper match, both in strength and passion, and gave as good as she received, holding him with her strong legs like vice while he broke. He could feel her fingers digging into his back, and when had they flipped over? She was clinging to him while he rode out his climax, her head thrown back, her long neck arching like Cupid's bow, her eyes wide open, sightless and darkened with want.
She contorted around him, grabbing and then releasing him with her inner muscles rhythmically, her chest heaving – and then, with a long shudder, she went still. He carefully rolled over next to her, finally released from her embrace. His throat felt raw – he must have screamed at some point during their coupling, even though he had no memory of doing so – and he was drained like never before in his life. Well, not in a similar situation, that is. Work-related exhaustion was something entirely different.
A small, deceivingly strong hand touched his damp forehead, and he heard Teyla's deep, throaty chuckle.
"You will need the sweat lodge again before we return to Atlantis," she said.
"I may never move again," he mumbled; then something occurred to him. "Do you think we've done it? Or do we need another round?"
"We catch easily," Teyla replied. "More so since you have not been very… active lately, have you?"
"Not really," Kavanagh admitted. "Too much work, no free time, no suitable partners. When will you know?"
"In about four days' time," sensing his surprise, she shrugged. "We are different that way. The changes begin almost immediately."
"What changes?" he asked, envisioning her with a huge belly.
"Mostly internal ones," Teyla said, twinkling, as if she knew what he was imagining. "We are much more aware of the functions of our body than Earth women. We can recognize the difference. The process is differently paced, too, and we don't show till the last twenty days or so."
Kavanagh nodded. For a hunted species, constantly on the run, that made sense.
"So you'll be able to go on offworld missions for a while yet," he then said.
"If I had just made a child with an Athosian man, I wouldn't even give my… condition a second thought," she replied. "But I know I need to be more careful with our child. Dr. Beckett warned me that there might be… complications. We are much alike, your people and mine, but not completely so. I will have to avoid strenuous activities for a while."
"No more fight lessons with the major-who-is-never-wrong?" Kavanagh teased. Teyla laughed.
"And no more sampling of Dr. Zelenka's moonlight."
"Moonshine," Kavanagh corrected, grinning. Zelenka's self-concocted booze was something of a legend on Atlantis. Like the Monster of Loch Ness or the Yeti – just the other way round. Everyone knew of its existence, but nobody would admit to ever having tried it. "You've really tasted the stuff?" he shuddered involuntarily.
"It was vile," Teyla admitted. "He said it reminds him of becherovka – not the taste, which this beverage has none, but the impact. I heard that Sergeant Markham got sick of it. Strange. Dr. Zelenka did not seem influenced at all."
"That's a Czech thing," Kavanagh explained lazily. "Them and the Russians can drink like a fish, without the consequences all other people would suffer."
"What about you?" Teyla asked. "Are you a heavy drinker, too?"
Kavanagh shook his head. "Nah, I don't have the stomach for that. My father was very stern, he didn't tolerate any alcohol in our house – well, aside from the wine required for mass – so when I ran away from home, I got terribly drunk, just because I could. But I was sick like a dog for days afterwards, so I never tried it again."
"The ways of your people are strange," Teyla said. "I shall have to learn more about these things if I wish to live with you in a shared household."
"Do you?" Kavanagh asked seriously. "Do you really wish to do it? Or did you just allow the spirit of the feast to sweep you away?"
"No, I truly want this," she said. "I wish to have a household with you. I believe that between the two of us, we can make this work."
"Between the two of us, perhaps," Kavanagh said. "But what will the others say to it? Zelenka had a hard enough time after marrying Marta, and everyone likes him. Everyone on Atlantis hates me – well, save from Petersen, perhaps, but that's only because he hates McKay more. We'll be given a lot of grief about this… especially you."
"Why me?" Teyla asked in honest surprise.
"Because nobody would understand why you've chosen me, of all people," Kavanagh replied with a mirthless grin, "and half the men would be mortally insulted that you haven't chosen them."
"I do not understand," Teyla's confusion was obvious. "This is my choice. No Athosian would ever dare to tell me whom I should found my household with. This is a matter between you and me, as no other spouses are currently involved. The community's only right and function is to witness the bonding. Do your people have different customs?"
"Well, ultimately, the choice is ours, and there's nothing they could do against it – not legally, at least," Kavanagh said. "That doesn't mean, though, that they wouldn't bitch and stink about it."
"They would stink?" Teyla repeated, completely flabbergasted now. Kavanagh laughed.
"It's a figure of speech," he explained. "It means they are going to make unpleasant remarks." Practical jokes would be even more likely, including quite rough ones, but he didn't want to mention that possibility right now.
The image of a very pregnant Teyla, chasing two Marines – both twice her size – along Atlantis' corridors with her fighting sticks, came to his mind uninvitedly. The last thing she needed in her condition (assumed that she'd got pregnant at all) was to beat up the jarheads. Speak about stress and strenuous activities.
"I can always suggest people to be selected for weapons training," Teyla said mildly, as if she'd read his mind. "I can beat up anyone, with one hand bound to my back, you know that."
"I know, and the thought is a little frightening," Kavanagh admitted. Teyla laughed, licked her thumb and began to rub it against a nipple, making him groan.
"Give me no reason, and you will have nothing to fear," she said, wetting her thumb again and working her way down his body, which had already started to show signs of interest. "I have you in my hand, completely to my mercy," she added, her eyes glittering in amusement, because it was the literal truth.
"I can… live with that… I think," his voice broke, because she was doing wicked things to him under the blanket with that clever little hand of hers. "Keep doing that… and we… won't be having a… second turn…"
She laughed and kissed him, a gesture she was still getting used to.
"That can wait," she said, "until we know whether I have caught or not. Right now, I just wish to play. This is a luxury I did not have very often in the past."
Well, if she wanted to pay, who was he to say no, as long as he was included in the game? He grinned his agreement, and their former desperate urgency turned into a playful wrestling that kept them occupied for the rest of the night.
On the next day, Kavanagh went to work again and actually did the ground water analysis that had been his excuse to come here in the first place. Jinto and his friend Wex came to watch him working and asked surprisingly intelligent questions for teenaged boys with no formal education. As long as he left out the technobabble, they were able to understand the basics. After a while, he even allowed them to handle the simple instruments. It was like making experiments with Liam all over again.
Unbeknownst to him, Teyla and Halling were watching them from afar.
"He is good with children," Halling said. "You chose wisely, Teyla. I believe he will be a good caretaker for your household… unless you plan to assume that position for yourself."
Teyla shook her head. "No, I will be busy enough being the senior wife."
"Do you wish to extend the household eventually?"
"In time, perhaps. But first, Calvin has to learn to be comfortable just with the two of us being together."
"He still wants to keep your bond a secret?" Halling asked, disapproval clear on his face.
"As secret as it could be with all our people and Doctor Zelenka knowing about it," Teyla shrugged. "It matters not. As soon as I begin to show, the secret will be out in the open anyway."
"But why does he wish to hide?" Halling was a little bewildered. "There is only the two of you so far, nothing to make Earth people uncomfortable."
"He is a very private person who does not trust easily," Teyla said. "It will take time. And it will not be easy. Doctor Zelenka's bond with Marta did not find only supporters, either. Earth people can be dreadfully envious at times."
"But they are worth the effort we put into them," Halling smiled.
"Yes, they are," Teyla agreed and walked over to her new bondmate. "Calvin, if you are finished here, we should seek out Dr. Beckett. He said something about a diagnostic device of the Ancestors. Perhaps we do not need to wait until I can feel the changes myself."
PART 9
Rating: General, for this part
Author's notes:
The medical jargon was provided by my good friend, Ithilwen, who always helps me out with this sort of stuff.
They found Beckett in the tent that obviously belonged to Anika, if the drying herbs hanging in linen sacks (or what went for linen on this planet anyway) from the roof was any indication. The blonde healer was busy stirring some concoction over a brazier, while the CMO of Atlantis was studying a hand-held tool that had an uncanny resemblance to a Next Generation medical tricorder from Star Trek. Only that the readings were written in Ancient.
Ford was nowhere to be seen, which relieved Kavanagh enormously. Whatever the young Marine's relationship to Anika might be, the pregnancy – or the lack thereof – of Teyla was not his business. And the idea of the Atlantis military discussing Kavanagh's sexual prowess was not an appealing one.
Anika noticed their presence first and said something to Beckett in a language that sounded suspiciously like Gaelic. Maybe it was. Athosians picked up new languages at an almost alarming speed, due to the considerable larger speech centre of their brain. Marta already spoke an acceptable Czech, at least according to Zelenka, so why would Anika, who worked with Beckett on a regular basis, not have picked up Gaelic?
Beckett looked up from his medical gizmo and gave Teyla one of his embarrassed smiles. Why he looked always a little embarrassed was beyond Kavanagh's understanding. Granted, he didn't feel comfortable around Ancient technology, but he wasn't supposed to be. He was a medical doctor, not an engineer, despite having the ATA gene. And McKay's harassment of him and the impatient reactions didn't help things.
"Doctor Beckett," Teyla inclined her head politely, "do you have a moment?"
"Aye, lass, for you always," Beckett smiled again, even blushed a little, and Kavanagh felt his brows draw together. Has the good doctor developed a crush on Teyla? That would certainly complicate things.
It wasn't that he feared competition, which he did not. He had a lot to offer, and Teyla apparently realized that. But he knew that Athosian households were not limited to two people, and he needed to get used to have someone in his life again before they would extend the boundaries and invite anyone else in.
Nor did he really want to share a family with Carson Beckett at any time in the future. The doctor was a good man but not someone he would live under the same roof with. They would clash painfully, all the time. He only hoped that Teyla would see it the same way.
Of course, he might be worrying unnecessarily. It was possible that Beckett simply got uncomfortable in the company of strong, attractive women. He constantly blushed beet red whenever Lt. Cadman spoke to him, too.
Kavanagh shook his head, surprised by the possessive streak he had apparently developed in a single night. He needed to keep himself under better control, before he started to see ghosts everywhere. That would easily lead to paranoid reactions and dreadful mistakes. So he forced himself to listen to the conversation between Teyla and the doctor instead.
"You spoke highly about the healing device of the Ancestors that had been found during the recent Gate mission by Sergeant Stackhouse's team," she was saying. "I understand that you have figured out how it works?"
"Well, I cannae say that I actually know how it works," Beckett corrected. "But I'm beginning to understand the readings. My Ancient isn't bad, though I'm not exactly fluent, either. I might need to talk to one of the linguists, later on."
"But it is some sort of medical scanner, isn't it?" Kavanagh asked. "What can it do, as far as you've been able to see?"
"It can show broken bones for sure," Beckett shrugged. "I've checked it on Selena's daughter. Her broken arm is healing nicely."
He showed them a picture on the matchbox-sized screen of the small device. One could clearly see the broken ends knitting and growing together again… like in an illustrated medical textbook. There were even remarks in tiny print, written in Ancient.
"That's useful," Kavanagh said, "and probably puts less strain on the human body than X-raying."
"Aye, and definitely easier to carry along than a bloody X-ray machine," Beckett replied. "It can also track down bacteria and viruses, though I still have problems identifying them. It's not so as if the Ancients had the same medical terminology as we have. But the thing shows clear pictures of the wee beasties, so we can check them with our own database. It'll just take some time."
"I can try to hook it up with your laptop," Kavanagh offered, but Beckett shook his head.
"Thank ye, lad, but I'd rather not risk damaging it. Not before we find another one that you can take apart and see what makes it tick. Besides, it's like Rodney's energy shield was – it imprints on the person who activates it first after a certain amount of time offline and won't let anyone else use it."
"Perhaps it's the Ancient version to ensure doctor-patient confidentiality," Kavanagh guessed. "No stranger can break into the database and view anyone's medical data. Neat solution. Do you think it could determine whether Teyla is pregnant or not?"
"In theory? Aye it should," Beckett replied. "I just dinnae know how to make it work that way. There wasn't a user's manual coming with it, you know."
"Pieces of Ancient technology usually don't," Kavanagh agreed. "But they're supposed to react to mental instructions, and you're a natural ATA gene carrier."
"Aye, and a very clumsy one, too," Beckett answered glumly. "First time I got something work, I nearly killed General O'Neill and Major Sheppard. And I'm a lousy pilot, too. Hell, I never even liked to drive!"
"Perhaps," Kavanagh said, "but those are things you won't usually do. It's understandable that you're nervous and lack confidence. Dealing with patients, on the other hand, and making a diagnosis, is your very own field of expertise. You shouldn't have any problems with that."
"Perhaps," Beckett admitted, still not entirely convinced.
Kavanagh rolled his eyes. It always annoyed him when people sold themselves below their proper price, and he happened to know all too well, that Beckett was an excellent scientist aside from being a dedicated physician. Only McKay was arrogant (and idiotic) enough to dismiss Beckett's research as insignificant and unscientific. Medical research was of utmost importance. It could equip arrogant idiots like McKay with the ATA gene. And it could eventually enable children like Tommy to lead a normal life.
"Just try to concentrate on what you want to know and check the results with your database," he said. "I assume you do have a compressed version on your laptop?"
"Of course I do," Beckett replied in exasperation. "I'm insecure, not daft, you know?"
"Well, then, what are we waiting for?"
Beckett shook his head with forced patience but let himself be talked into doing the examination all the same. With a gesture that was almost comically like some scene out of Star Trek, he moved his instrument a few times over Teyla's abdomen, then scanned the results into his laptop – the tiny, hand-held scanner was a clever creation of Dr. Zelenka, as it was still easier than trying to type up Ancient symbols… their Ancient alphabet was still far from complete.
"Hmmm," he said after the laptop produced a series of readouts that were more alien for Kavanagh's untrained eye than any Ancient writing. "Your progesterone hormone levels are elevated, lass. At 3.2 ng/ml, I can safely diagnose you with ovulation."
"Which means what exactly?" Kavanagh prompted.
"It means that she is, indeed, pregnant," the doctor answered, giving Teyla a shy smile. "Congratulations."
Kavanagh felt strangely light-headed. Now it was done. For good or ill, they were having a child. And since neither of them believed in abortion (at least he didn't, and somehow he couldn't believe the Athosians would), there was no way back. He couldn't decide whether to be deliriously happy or frightened to death.
"Doctor," he heard Teyla asking, "how long till you can tell if it is a boy or a girl?"
"Well," Beckett said thoughtfully, "that's not a simple question. Sex is determined at the time of conception, but it takes weeks of development before the fetus has fully-formed sex organs. In our world, the earliest we can determine the fetal sex is about ten weeks post-conception, by sampling a small portion of placenta and performing a chromosomal analysis on the cells. Most of the time, though, we don't discover the fetal sex until later in the pregnancy, either by amniocentesis or (more usually) by seeing the sex organs on ultrasound."
"Ten weeks," Teyla said. "That is a long time."
Long indeed. Ten weeks of agony before they'll know whether their progeny would be threatened by Fragile X or not.
"Can this device not tell you earlier?" Teyla asked.
Beckett shrugged. "I cannae say, love. We can try to see if it allows chromosomal analysis by scanning, so an actual cell sample wannae be required. That way we probably could discover the fetal sex."
"Then do it," Kavanagh demanded impatiently. Beckett shot him an exasperated look.
"That's not that simple," he said. "Even if we can determine that chromosomal sex is male (or female), we'll need to wait to see if that will match the final gender. There are several developmental conditions which can cause the chromosomal sex to not match the final appearance of the formed sexual organs. That's something a lot of people don't know."
"Is Fragile X one of those conditions?" Kavanagh asked, almost tonelessly.
"It can be," Beckett admitted, "though not necessarily."
"Understood," Kavanagh looked at Teyla. "Would you like to give it a try anyway?"
She nodded." At least it might give us some idea what to expect. I am going to have this child in any case, so that is nothing we need to think about. But I like to be prepared for all eventualities. Even if there will be a change later."
"Very well," Kavanagh nodded; he preferred certainty himself, even though there always remained a chance that the results would be false. "Let's do it, doctor."
Beckett sighed but didn't argue. He tried to form a mental image of the fetus, than that of the double helix of the DNA, and then sliding deeper into its intricate curving to locate the chromosomes that would give him the required answer. It was a strangely un-scientific method, but until they learned to read Ancient and interpret the medical jargon of the Ancients, there was not much else he could have done.
The device gave a beeping sound; again, so much Star Trek-like that Kavanagh would have laughed, had the situation not been so serious. Beckett scanned the results into his laptop again, and checked the correlations. And checked them again. And checked them for the third time. Then he looked up at them with compassion.
"I might be wrong," he said slowly, gently, "but according to these readings you're gonna have a daughter."
The End
Will be continued in "Anxiety", eventually.