An Officer and A Gentleman Atlantis Style

by Marianne H. Stillie

John Sheppard's return to Earth after the siege of Atlantis brings him closer to his past than he expected, and makes him confront his future with Teyla.

Title: An Officer and A Gentleman Atlantis Style

Author: Marianne H. Stillie

Categories: Angst, Romance, Missing Scenes before and after "Intruder"

Rating: M

Pairing: John and Teyla

Season: Season 2

Summary: John Sheppard's return to Earth after the siege of Atlantis brings him closer to his past than he expected, and makes him confront his future.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places for Stargate Atlantis are the property of MGM Worldwide Television Distribution, Sony Pictures Television and Acme Shark Cooper/Wright Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.

Copyright (c) 2006 Marianne H. Stillie

Author's Note: This John Sheppard story is the companion piece to my Teyla Emmagan story "Remembrance". I've always had a strong feeling, especially since "Letters From Pegasus", that Sheppard was orphaned sometime in childhood. Since there is so little known about him, I pose this view into his past, along with a possible future.

xXx

An Officer and A Gentleman Atlantis Style

Even though it had been over five years, John remembered the path clearly. The trees had grown some, thanks to the southern California sunshine and rain, but places like this didn't change much. They just expanded over time.

When he reached the simple blue-grey headstone with the name 'Sheppard' deeply engraved into the shiny surface, he placed the large bouquet of flowers on the neatly cut grass. He stood there for several minutes, slowly and repeatedly reading the three names, John, Laura, Daniel, along with the birth dates. Even after twenty-six years, he still questioned why he'd been spared in the car crash that had taken his parents and younger brother.

When he'd arrived back on Earth, he'd carefully rehearsed everything he wanted to tell them about his life since he'd last visited. Instead, the thoughts came tumbling out randomly with his memories.

"I hope you like the flowers, Mom. The florist thought I was crazy when I asked him for all the glads and bearded iris he had. You always loved the big showy flowers more than the little ones. I remember that first spring in the new house in Santa Monica. You and I had just finished the new flower beds in the backyard after we'd planted the twenty flats of annuals out front. We were already running late and Dad was due home any minute to take us out to dinner for your birthday. I'll never forget the look on your face when we came around the corner of the house and found Danny 'weeding' everything we'd just planted out front. He was only two, so we couldn't be angry. He did learn to be a better helper by the time…"

John cleared the choked-off sob from his throat and went on, "While you got all the mud and dirt off him, I put everything back. We were too late for our reservation, but you didn't mind. You said takeout seafood on the Pier and a ride on the ferris wheel were even better because we were together. And we had the best garden that year. I've seen some spectacular flowers in the Pegasus Galaxy. Someday I hope I'll have a home with a garden like the one you taught me how to create."

"I don't know where to start telling you about Pegasus and the city of Atlantis. That it's very far away from here is pretty lame. I made it through my first year there, just barely. I know it's not going to get any easier with the Wraith and all the crises and threats we keep running into. There's not much time to enjoy life, but we're trying. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. At least we have the Daedalus and Earth as backup now."

"You know all those math puzzles you showed me from the time I could count, Dad? Your drills saved my life in one situation. I know you wanted me to be a teacher like you. But flying is what I love. I'm doing more of it, in a bigger way than I ever imagined. And, I'm needed there."

"I wish you could've been with me on my last mission, Danny. Those Colonial vipers you loved so much on that show we watched are nothing compared to the Puddlejumpers and F-302 fighters I fly. Being beamed off the jumper and onto the Daedalus bridge in just the nick of time was scary, but so cool."

The images of his family as they were before he lost them continued to invade his recent life memories, constricting his flow of words. He pushed aside the events of the past year when he'd come close to joining them. He wasn't sure what to call it, luck or destiny. His staying alive against such big odds had given him a renewed hope that there was something more for him in life.

He didn't fight the tears the way he'd done too many times over the years. "I still miss you guys a lot. I wish I could stay longer but I want to pay my respects to Ron and Maggie down in San Diego before I head back to the SGC. They're deciding on a new military commander for Atlantis. I hope it's not another hardass who won't give Elizabeth the respect she's earned."

"If I make it through another year, I'll try to get back. I hope I'll be able to bring a friend with me next time. She's someone I really want you guys to meet. Her name's Teyla, and, well, it's a long story, but I know you'll like her."

His voice trembling, he whispered, "I love you."

Letting go of this bittersweet part of his past reluctantly, John made his way back to the rental car.

xXx

John Sheppard leaned against the wall and doubled over, trying to catch his breath. Every cell in his thirteen-year-old body was burning from the hard run, but he didn't care. He was up to five miles now, the pain from his two operations finally gone. He felt good when he ran like this, free and happy again. It was only when he stopped that all the hurt and bad memories came back.

The past year had taught him some hard lessons that still confused him. That there was no one, no family, who wanted the responsibility of a severely injured boy who might never walk again, was a rejection he'd pushed deep inside himself along with the first loss.

Each time he woke up after the surgeries, he'd prayed that his mother would be there as she'd always been to take care of him. Having a nurse for a mother had made him a popular kid at school and in their neighborhood. He'd held back the tears each time he found himself alone in the hospital room. He'd accepted the painful therapy knowing it would give him back his mobility. He'd also been able to keep up with his school work. What he still didn't have was a family and a home.

He looked at the clock on the wall outside Mr. Clark's office. He was late for their meeting with yet another set of prospective foster parents. It didn't matter though. He knew how the interview would go – his stoic silence, the couple's awkward reactions to him, and Mr. Clark's disappointment when they decided he wasn't a good fit for their home.

The hard breathing had stopped as he wiped a sheen of perspiration from his face. He opened the door and stepped into the small office. Mr. Clark's look of apprehension was expected. John was surprised when the man and woman seated in front of his desk turned and, after a flicker of hesitation, smiled at him.

The man stood up and extended his hand to him. "I'm Ron Bennett, John. This is my wife, Maggie."

None of the possible foster parents had ever been that direct and John hesitated. The tall man waited patiently until he finally took the offered hand. The man's grip was strong, and he smiled as John's grip became more positive and accepting. "I understand you're interested in being a pilot someday. Choppers or jets?"

"Anything that goes more than two hundred miles an hour, sir."

Ron Bennett laughed softly. "I spent thirty years in the Air Force as a non-com, so the 'sir' doesn't fit. Ron is fine. And if you like flying that much, you'll enjoy San Diego."

Maggie Bennett moved closer to John. "My husband can be a little overwhelming sometimes. But he's right. If you're interested in flying, you'll be a perfect fit for us. Now that Ron is retired, I'm back to civilian nursing, and we'd like to share our new home with someone. We were never able to have our own and we're too old for a small child. Do you like baseball, John?"

John stiffened then answered honestly. "I prefer football."

The woman laughed, seeing her husband's grin. "I'm going to be outnumbered. But that's okay."

The sincere eagerness of the two adults touched John's year-long wounded heart and he smiled. "Do you have a garden, Maggie?"

xXx

The last thing that went into the already overstuffed duffle bag was the Air Force-blue dress uniform. The shiny new silver oak leaves on the jacket were still a surprise to John Sheppard.

When he'd arrived at Cheyenne Mountain, he'd immediately been ordered to General Landry's office. He'd expected to be told, quickly and curtly, who his new commanding officer in Atlantis would be. Instead he was handed a hurriedly-sized dress uniform and told he'd been chosen as the new military commander of Atlantis. The real shock was the news that the position included a promotion.

An hour later, he, Landry, McKay, Beckett and Elizabeth stood in front of the Stargate and he was officially promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. As he looked from one to the other of his Atlantis friends, he reveled in their smiles. He accepted their congratulatory handshakes gratefully. What he wasn't able to do openly was express how ecstatically happy he was that, this time, he wasn't alone at a special time in his life.

It wasn't until this moment, as he packed for the trip home, that he let the little sadness of the one smile missing from his promotion ceremony seep in. He hoped he would see her as soon as he got home.

xXx

At times like this, I usually feel better if I talk to myself. I prefer doing it out loud but looking around this crowded college field with all my ROTC classmates and their families and friends milling around, I'll stick to talking in my head. There are enough people who already think I'm borderline. I don't want to give them anymore ammunition now that I've finally got my Air Force commission.

It's real creepy right now. A week ago I was on an SDSU field getting my aerospace engineering degree, watching those classmates being hugged and kissed and congratulated. Graduations are pretty much the same. I guess it's me. I keep picturing my high school graduation when it was just me and Maggie.

Two tours of duty in Vietnam and major exposure to Agent Orange had taken Ron two months before and both of us were still hurting. I'm just grateful that I was able to say a real goodbye that time. The foster care was over but Maggie's caring heart didn't mind that I stayed. We took good care of each other for those next two years. College, ROTC and my part time job at a restaurant kept me busy, along with the surfing. I found time to date a little. Nothing serious. I even got laid a couple of times. With my ROTC classmate Beth it was strictly academic. She needed a math tutor and I was it. It was a crazy two years, but I always made time to keep up the garden Maggie and I had put together.

I'd still be there in that house with my very special foster mom, except for that evening I got in late from work and found her on the living room floor. She'd gotten up to get something while watching TV and collapsed. After hours of waiting, the doctor in the emergency room told me she'd had a massive stroke. There was so much damage, it was left to me to make the decision about life support. I knew Maggie's feelings about it from the choices she'd made when Ron was terminal. A final goodbye at another cemetery, and the home and family were gone again. As much as it hurt losing them, I'm grateful for the years Ron and Maggie gave me.

Ron had always encouraged me to hold onto my dream of flying. Now, here I am, ready to start a new part of my life. I want all of them to be proud of me. I just hope I don't screw up.

"Hey, Shep!" a familiar voice shouts behind me.

I turn and smile, letting go of the angsty conversation I've been having with myself. "Hey, Jeff. Congratulations, buddy."

He takes my offered hand. "You too. My folks are having a big bash at the house. If you have no plans…"

"Now that my college roomies have gone home, I only have ten days left before I have to vacate the beach apartment and report for duty. I want to get in all the surfing I can."

"You're sure? There's going to be plenty of food and beer."

"Thanks, but the waves are calling, loudly. Good luck with your first posting."

"You too." Jeff salutes casually and goes back to his family.

As I head for the parking lot, I say a lot of silent goodbyes.

xXx

The sun's setting over Mission Beach as I walk into the busy Italian restaurant. I'm thirsty, hungry and tired, in that order. My favorite stool at the bar is empty and waiting. I no sooner sit down than Don, the weekday bartender, comes over.

"What'll it be, Sheppard?"

"A Guinness."

"No food? You're usually starving after hitting those waves all day."

I grin, appreciating the great service my years of working here get me. "Later on the food."

I take a long swig of the cold, rich brew as soon as it's placed in front of me. As it hits my empty stomach, I begin to feel even better about the day. The surf was awesome and the hours out on the water were golden. I'd still be out there, but I draw the line at nighttime surfing. When I first started surfing, my risk-taking compulsions were giving Maggie migraines, despite Ron's calm reassurances. Once I promised her I'd always be out of the water by dark, she accepted the normal risks of my chosen sport. At least, she said she did.

Another swallow of beer and the hunger growls in my stomach. Before I can get up and head to one of the small tables just off the bar area, the stool next to me is filled with a heavily tanned and lusciously feminine body.

Very direct words tumble from very full lips, "I was watching you from the beach all afternoon. Great moves out there on the waves."

"Thanks. I'm John."

"Abbie."

"I was going to order a pizza. Care to join me?"

"Sounds great."

As I escort the gorgeous, alluring Abbie to a table, I can't help that little voice in my head that's asking if I'm going to get lucky tonight.

xXx

The kind of luck I'm having with Abbie only happens in fiction. This third, no, fourth time since last night is amazing as my cock lets go inside the rubber that's inside the insatiable female underneath me. I can't decide whether this is my favorite position with her or, if her on top, riding the hell out of me, was better. There are some new aches in certain long-underused lower body muscles and a fresh wave of exhaustion wringing me out, but the pleasurable exhilaration of all this straining and pumping makes it all worthwhile.

I flop over onto my back, my heart still racing like one of the Navy jets at the local base. I'm definitely in lust with Abbie. I reach for her, wanting to keep the close connection before the morning comes up completely.

My hand finds only sheet. My opening eyes see her gathering her scattered clothes from the floor and very hurriedly getting into them. Like Han Solo, I'm getting a bad feeling about this.

"I guess you're not staying for breakfast, Abbie?"

"No," she answers, her back to me.

"How about dinner again tonight?"

Fully dressed, she turns and looks at me. I can't read her expression but the words are eloquent. "It's been nice, Joe. Thanks for the great fucks."

Her steps are quick and the apartment door slams loudly.

The angst starts trickling into my head as I admit that the sex had, for a little while, taken away the loneliness. Before it takes too much of a hold, I get up and flip on the stereo. The first cut from the Johnny Cash CD I keep permanently loaded snaps me back to reality.

I won't feel sorry for myself once I'm out there on the water. Next to flying, it's what I love. And I can do it solo.

xXx

Elizabeth doesn't know I've been spending a good part of each night prowling around the Daedalus. The last fifteen days on this intergalactic ferryboat have gotten on my nerves. The three days left before we reach Atlantis are going to be a bitch. I want to get home because there's something very important I need to do.

Now that I've accepted what I did wrong with the one really serious relationship I ever had, I want to get things going in the right direction with Teyla. I know. We've only known each other for a year. But a year with her fighting beside me and becoming my friend has convinced me there's more there than I've let myself admit. And it's not just what I feel alone in my bed at night. That's for later. I want something else first.

xXx

After postings in Alaska, Okinawa, the Middle East, Hawaii and Bosnia, Germany has been an interesting change of pace. The beer hasn't been bad either.

I've even met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I bought a ring and I'm going to propose today. I just hope she's not still mad. The five weeks I've been away on special assignment should have let her cool down about our argument. At least, I hope so.

The residential area where the NATO personnel live is quiet and classy. Spending nights at Melanie's has always had multiple perks compared to the BOQ digs.

There's a lot of commotion in the hallway. Guys are getting off the elevator carrying boxes and furniture. It isn't until I get to her floor that I realize the moving is from Mel's apartment. The moving-out lull allows me to get in the door. The living room is very empty, except for her shoulder bag on the floor.

"Mel?"

Carrying a duffel bag and a bulging tote, Mel appears out of what was her bedroom. Her expression glides from shock to relief so suddenly, I'm not sure how to react. She saves me the embarrassment by talking first.

"John. You're back a day early. I was going to leave you a letter."

"I know how pissed you were the last time we saw each other, but isn't this a little drastic?" I've found over the years that my witty sarcasm tends to disarm people more than it ticks them off. This time, it doesn't work.

She drops the two bags and starts talking. As the words bubble out in her perfectly articulated Boston accent, I feel as if I'm back in fifth grade being reprimanded for not paying attention during a geography lesson.

In a very focused and determined voice, Melanie says, "Since you're here, I'll tell you what I wrote in the letter. Maybe it will make a stronger impression."

Out of habit, I go into that wheedling little-boy voice I use only with women I know well, "I just got back from a shitty assignment on the not so great continent of Africa. I was planning on a quiet dinner and a warm, comfortable bed with you. Could this conversation wait until tomorrow?"

Mel laughs, loudly and harshly, and that's very unlike her. "Your 'Sheppard' charm and sex. I should have known. Any other man would be demanding to know why, after months of being lovers, I'm suddenly leaving."

Even as I say the words, I feel the beginnings of an angst attack in the pit of my stomach. "If I asked and you answered, it wouldn't make any difference. You'll still leave."

Mel looks at me exasperated. "And you'll let me," she says then drops to the floor. Sitting cross-legged, her head in her hands, she grunts in anger. Slowly, she looks up at me and smiles crookedly. "If you weren't such a nice guy, John Sheppard, I could really hate you."

"If I'm such a nice guy, why are you leaving?"

"I'm going home to find a husband and have some children. Six years of a 'career' has been enough."

The shock finally hits and I join Mel on the floor. "I was hoping you wanted to do the husband and kids routine with me."

"We don't want the same things. Not really. You're already married to the Air Force and flying. If you were stuck in the same boring place with no challenge or adventure, we'd be divorced in no time."

I know I should say something, but deep down, I know she's right. My gut tells me that I need to listen this time and not back off. Although, with my history, running away is a strong possibility.

When Melanie realizes I'm not going to ply her with my usual cajoling, she continues the verbal version of her letter, "I really believe you need another shooting war. One where you can hang with the guys and be the hero you always aspire to be. Then you won't have to deal with what you're really afraid of."

I feel a rage building and blurt out, "In a shooting war people die! I've had enough people die on me!"

In a soft, soothing voice, Mel says, "People dying isn't the problem, John. It's the being abandoned and left behind that you keep running away from. A war will just give you another excuse not to get close."

I can't look her in the eyes, so I just sit there and hang my head. What I really want to do is run like hell, away from Melanie, the apartment, Ramstein, Germany… Well, you get the idea.

She puts a thick letter-size cream-colored envelope on top of my clenched hands. "When I was packing, I realized you've never left anything of yours here. That told me so much."

I feel her fingers gently cup my chin and lift my face. "I hope you find the right woman someday. When you do, I want you to fight as hard for her as you do for all the other things you believe in. You settle for too little, John, when you deserve the very best."

Moving and speaking aren't possible right now, as I silently stare into her eyes. Mel knows it and brushes a light kiss across my cheek then picks up her belongings and leaves. At least the door doesn't slam this time.

In a movie I saw once, the dumped guy swallowed the engagement ring then hung himself. This angst isn't to the point of suicidal, so I get up and head for the bathroom. I hear the ring plop into the water and quickly flush. As I leave the apartment, my hand clutches the thick envelope.

That was three weeks ago. I read the letter at least once a day. Hopefully, by the time I do meet the right woman, Melanie's kind and compassionate words to me will have sunk in.

In the meantime, I'll keep my head down and my flying on course. So, which continent is Afghanistan part of?

xXx

Considering how close Teyla's quarters are to mine in the east wing of the city, I'm on my second relay of steady walking, along corridors, around corners and up and down staircases. I've avoided the transporters. They're way too fast for my introspective mood right now.

At this time of morning, the personnel quarters are pretty empty. The few people I've run into during my hour-long walk have stared briefly or raised eyebrows then went on their way. I know the perfectly pressed dress uniform and brand new shoes clicking on the floor tiles are odd sights, especially since I'm the one wearing them. I smiled and nodded to each of them, all the while continuing my personal conversation in my head.

As I get closer to my final destination, I can't help smiling to myself for at least the thousandth time. I got my first wish yesterday when Teyla congratulated me on my promotion as soon as I walked into the control room. Her smile was everything I'd hoped it would be.

Last night I reread Melanie's letter. After years of doing all the wrong things in my personal life, I finally have the courage to change them. I'd long ago convinced myself that loving a woman was pointless. I was always a nice guy, but I didn't expect anything beyond the sex. Like Mel said, I've always settled for too little, because I was afraid to hope for more, afraid of losing what I loved, again.

Afghanistan and Antarctica let me hide the longing and need so completely, I almost forgot how to feel. Then I saw Teyla's smile that first time. I really laid the charm on thick in the beginning but the practiced coolness wasn't necessary as time went on. As a team leader I've been well aware of the choices I might have to make because of my military rank and responsibilities. I felt myself falling for Teyla immediately, which was very in character for me. I fought it pretty hard in the beginning. This time the 'don't get close' excuse was the Wraith. It stopped working for a very simple reason. In the close atmosphere and dangerous circumstances of life here in Atlantis, it's hard to be a loner. Keeping my real feelings locked away, safe and protected, doesn't work anymore. The professional has become personal with Teyla.

She is so special in so many ways. As a fellow warrior and teammate, I can always depend on her to fight beside me even when things are bad. Sometimes, in the heat of battle, I forget she's a woman. Although, as soon as the worst is over, all I have to do is look at her and I feel that old familiar hunger. I'll admit it's gotten tougher to keep it under control as the months have gone by. The cold showers and jerking off have become pretty routine.

Unlike the other women I've known, she doesn't look right through me or past me or around me, as if I wasn't really there. Yeah, I know that sounds familiar. That's why I knew how she felt when she said it. I'm solid and real to her, as a teammate and friend. I need to know if all that applies to her perception of me as a man.

With two strong personalities like ours, it's inevitable that our deep convictions sometimes make us clash. The differences between our two galaxies are huge. Funny thing is, even when we argue, there's understanding and, most of all, forgiveness. I've been grateful for that understanding from her, but it's also made it too easy for me to keep the distance intact.

Her deep caring has always slipped through our professional relationship right from the beginning. When I was literally dying from that damn bug sucking my life away, she was right there, touching me, talking to me. She even carried me through the event horizon when I was dead from the defibrillator shock. She also talks to me differently, and I do the same with her, our voices softer, gentler. We both always pull back though, the control kicking in before we reveal too much to each other.

As perfectly composed as Teyla is, there's a shyness that her life as leader and warrior doesn't mask, at least from me. I've also seen her matching fears. I wonder if there are past tears she keeps hidden, things she won't talk about as I do. She'll never show her feelings without some sign from me. We tend to protect each other in ways that have nothing to do with being teammates and fighters. More and more, I feel her loving heart surrounding me. It's like she's waiting for something. I hope that something is me.

The solid friendship has made all the difference in my decision to be here and do what I'm about to do. I know the risk I'm taking in talking to her outside the parameters we've established between us this past year. But I have to give her the choice, honestly and directly. Someday I want more and I need to know if she feels the same. It could destroy all we've gained as friends. My curse of loving too hard and too deeply has worked overtime this time. Teyla cold and distant would destroy me. Battling the Wraith and Genii are easy compared to that.

Before the siege, I wouldn't have considered taking this risk. So much has changed in these last weeks. The danger and peril we faced then have brought me even closer to her instead of making me pull away. All those carefully constructed barriers I've built up over the years look pretty flimsy and pointless now. I guess I'm just not afraid anymore. I really believe we can balance a personal relationship with our professional responsibilities. We're entitled to more than just fighting together. We are human.

One line from Mel's letter had always puzzled me. She wrote that she envied the woman who would someday enter that deeply hidden part of me that was waiting to be filled and fulfilled. I finally understand what she meant. And Teyla is the only woman I want there.

Once I was part of two loving families. Those deep personal attachments were brief but the most meaningful of my life. I need to trust and believe that there's no reason I can't have that again. The risks I need to take are the biggest emotional hurtles I'll ever face. Trusting myself is the scariest part. That I can love and have my love returned for real this time is what I want. I have no one back on Earth. This reality, with Teyla in it, is where I belong.

At the cemeteries, I wondered, again, if they were all proud of me. It wasn't until the trip home that I realized what they'd want most was for me to be happy.

My mental ramblings end on that high note just as I get to Teyla's quarters. I press the chime bar and the doors slide open faster than I expect.

Teyla stares at me, at a loss for words. Her eyes glide questioningly to my uncommonly neat hair then down the uniform. They stop at my shoes. When she looks back up at me, her expression mirrors her confused question, "Are you going somewhere, Colonel?"

"No. Yes. Here." Real cool, John. As usual.

When I don't move, Teyla smiles. "Please, come in."

Once inside I try the casually looking around the room ploy to hide my nervousness. Finally, I clear my throat and look directly at Teyla who has been waiting patiently. I know I can do this. The look in her eyes is one of the many I've come to recognize. She's telling me she understands, even though she has no clue why the hell I'm here.

"Over the past year I've come to respect and admire you as a teammate, Teyla. You're a courageous, strong fighter and I can always depend on you to back me up, even when we disagree."

"Thank you, Colonel. It is very kind of you to tell me this."

"Yeah, well, I'm usually considered a nice guy. Except when I get angry."

When I see one of those tolerant smiles she's perfected, I begin to relax a little. "What I've come to appreciate about you, even more, are your patience and understanding. I may seem to know what I'm doing most of the time but it's a cover. My smile and quick wit have saved my ass numerous times. You always see beyond all that, especially when I screw up."

The Athosian patience continues to radiate from her beautiful dark eyes as she says, "If I did not believe in you and what we do, I would not be here."

I can't help the grin as my mouth keeps going with her subtle encouragement. "I like your total honesty most of all. That's why I want to ask you something."

Teyla notices the change in my voice and her expression goes from puzzled to deeply curious. Again, she waits patiently for me to continue.

"I know it's the custom of the Athosian people for a suitor to ask a woman's closest male relative for permission to court her. Since you have no male relatives, I'm asking your permission directly, Teyla Emmagan."

Teyla's expression changes to total surprise. "The activities of courting are for a man and woman to learn about each other for the sole purpose of marriage. Is that what you want, Colonel?"

"I really wish you'd call me John in private. Every time you use my rank, I expect a Wraith to jump out at me," I say, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Instead of easing the tension I see in her, my joking has made things worse. Teyla's expression goes up another notch to shock. "Considering the dangers we face, I do not think marriage is appropriate at this time."

Behind the words, I hear her fear of loss, so deeply ingrained by the Wraith. In as gentle a voice as I can manage, I tell her, "Not now, but someday. I plan on staying here in the Pegasus Galaxy, so there's no hurry." When I see the stiff, frightened lines fade, I know she understands my meaning.

I feel my own angsty fears rear up, so I push a little harder to get the one answer I need so much. "I would like to know if you'll eventually consider me more than just your team leader, Teyla."

Very slowly her smile comes back in full force. "I have become aware of your assets as a man, John."

"You have?" As the old insecurity trickles into my brain, I feel the urge to backtrack. "We're friends, but there's still a lot you don't know about me."

Teyla continues smiling. "There is much we need to learn about each other before we come together as a family."

Now it's my turn to look shocked at her directness. I can't think of a thing to say so I just stand and stare.

Her smile seeps into her voice completely and it makes me shiver. "I have always expected to spend my life with a man who is my best friend."

"Am I your best friend, Teyla?"

"Not yet."

"We can work on it, right?"

"I would like that very much, John."

"Good," and the relieved sigh slips out loudly. "Before we start this courtship thing, I want to apologize in advance for anything insulting, stupid, threatening or just generally out of character I may say or do in the future. Considering all the crazy things that have happened since I got here, I have a feeling they're going to get worse before they get better."

"I agree. And I assure you, I will be there with you, as teammate, warrior and friend."

"Thank you. One more thing. You will never see me wearing this uniform ever again. It's itchy and I hate the dress shoes." I grin, broadly and foolishly.

She smiles sweetly, giving me the exit I need. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No," I answer eagerly. "I'll change and meet you in the mess hall?"

"I will be there waiting."

I want to kiss her more than anything. But considering how much I've just gained, I don't want to push my changing luck. I grin at her and quickly head out the doors as they slide open. I can wait for all that physical stuff this time, no matter how long it takes.