Disclaimer: I don't own them. Oops, sorry, that was kind of harsh. Maybe I should have broken that to you more gently. Sorry if your universe just exploded. Also, I did not write the entirety of the prayer included in this chapter; it was largely inspired by (if memory serves) a Hebrew psalm of some sort. Again, not mine.

Title: A Harvest Dance

Author: ChaosCarter

Character/Pairing: Ronon, Teyla, Ronon/Teyla, plus some more people that I made up.

Rating: T (or PG-13, if you like).

WARNING: There will be some mildly bad words in this chapter. If that bothers you, go to your happy place and don't read it. I won't mind. Promise.

Timeline: Well, it would certainly help if you had seen Runner. I don't think there are any particular spoilers… set sometime during Season 3 when life is good and nobody's trying to blow up Atlantis.

A/N: Hi everybody! Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about the absurdly long wait for this chapter… school and work and life just caught up with me, I guess. If it makes you feel better, this is looking like the longest chapter I have ever written. Yes, it is the last full-length chapter of the story (cue howls of despair). All the more reason to drop me a review if you enjoyed it (hint hint). I'm thinking there might be an epilogue, because there is one more situation that I would like to explore in this story. Kudos to anyone who would like to try to guess what that situation is in their REVIEW (hint hint).

And for all of you who didn't notice in the first 5 chapters, the doc upload system and my computer are not currently on speaking terms, so a lot of my formatting won't carry over. So… if you see something that looks like this " (– break –)", it means time has passed or there is a break in the scene. Thanks in advance for your understanding.

Many thanks to the lovely FullMetalRaven for her absolutely fantabulous beta work on this chapter. Thanks also to rach0486, who would have beta'd it if she wasn't so busy saving the world. We still love you, Rach.

CHAPTER 6

"I fail to understand why this is so important to you," Teyla laughed as she tossed another skirt back onto the bed.

"Nonsense," Rheana scoffed, shoving yet another outfit into her friend's hands. "It's good to be pretty. You never dress up on your own, so it's only fair that you humor me once a year and let me pick something nice out."

With a deliberately overdramatic roll of her eyes, Teyla stepped behind the screen to change once more. "I am perfectly capable of dressing myself."

She heard a small chuckle sound from the other side of the screen. "Yeah, uh-huh, Miss combat boots and bullet-proof vest. Put the skirt on."

Within a few moments Teyla had the ties fastened, but it was of no use. The deep red folds hung several inches too long, twisting around her feet as she shuffled out to show her friend. Rheana sighed and shook her head. "How are you so little, child?" She gestured for Teyla to step closer, laughing as she took the fabric in her fingers. "Look at you! Even if we pinned this up, the thing would fall off as soon as you tried to walk. By the ancestors, do you even eat?"

Teyla chuckled. "I am sorry if I inconvenience you. Perhaps my usual clothing would be a better choice after all…?" she began hopefully.

"Nice try," Rheana said, reaching down to rummage through her trunk one more. "You're seriously telling me you don't own a dress?"

Teyla moved to sit next to her friend on the bed. "Perhaps one or two," she shrugged. "But I saw no need to bring them with me for two weeks of harvesting work."

"Hmph," Rheana grunted as she tossed a few more skirts onto the bed. "I don't think any of these will even fit you." She paused momentarily, her fingers brushing against something near the bottom of the trunk. "Wait a moment, what's this…?"

Teyla turned just in time to see her friend pull a long, flowing garment from the depths of the wooden box. The dress was beautiful. It was a deep sea-green shade, with thick bands of silver-colored thread lining the hem and sleeves. Rheana smiled softly, a far-off memory clouding her eyes. "I'd forgotten I still had this. It was a gift from my father." She laughed suddenly. "I never could get him to say how many tava seedlings he traded for it, but I remember that it made my mother rather upset."

Teyla chuckled. "I am sure you looked beautiful in it."

Rheana sighed as she shook the memories off, turning to face her friend. "Well, more importantly, it hasn't fit me in many years… which means that you just might have a chance. Go, try it on."

Teyla took the dress into her hands gently, stepping behind the screen once more. There were no clasps or ties; she slipped it on over her shoulders, letting the fabric slide down to drape over her hips and legs. It was a little long, of course, but not nearly as much so as the others. That's something at least, she thought to herself as she stepped out into the light once more.

"By the Ancestors," Rheana murmured, her hand coming up rather dramatically to rest on her neck. "I do believe we've found the one."

Teyla stepped over to the large mirror Rheana had produced from a back room. She was surprised at her own reflection. The dress hung silkily over her curves, falling to rest gently on the floor; a large slit, accented by the silver embroidery, came midway up her thigh. The neckline was low, off-the shoulders by a few inches, but it fit her perfectly. She sucked in a breath, laughing at herself as she gave the dress an experimental twirl. "It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful," Rheana corrected her, walking over to release the pin in Teyla's hair. The soft auburn curls spilled down over her neck and shoulders, completing the picture. "He won't be able to resist you in this."

Teyla blushed despite herself. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Rheana snorted rather uncharacteristically. "Liar. Admit it, the boy's head over heels for you, and it's hardly unrequited. If he doesn't throw you over his shoulder and carry you off the second he sees you in this, he's blind and stupid."

"That is a rather large responsibility to place on one dress," Teyla replied with raised eyebrow.

Rheana's grin only widened. "Trust me, you'll see."

-(break)-

A crowd had already gathered in the large meadow by the time Teyla and Rheana made their way through the final fringe of trees. It was most certainly not a scene one would expect to find in the middle of a forest at night. A large canvas tent had been borrowed from Atlantis earlier that day and ferried over to the mainland; it now filled most of the clearing. The fabric was an unwelcoming, plastic tarpaulin green, but a handful of the Athosian children had spent their afternoon hanging colorful strings of shells and late summer flowers from the edges of the dark fabric. Beneath the tent a series of long tables had been placed and covered with brightly colored cloth. A large bonfire blazed off to one side, casting long, dancing shadows over the whole scene.

Teyla spent several minutes visiting with various friends before seeking out a quiet table near the edge of the tent. Rheana had wandered off somewhere along the way, but it did not matter. She watched the crowd with a quiet smile from her seat on the tabletop, enjoying the sight of her people laughing. This was good for them, she mused quietly. All of them. It hurt her a little inside to watch, stung a little to see them finding themselves in this small moment of relaxation. She was happy for them, of course, but there was an undeniable pang of jealousy. Teyla rarely regretted her choice to live in the city of the Ancestors, to spend her days in the company of the Atlantis expedition team. She had made many new friends and, indeed, her fair share of enemies, but at the end of the day there was no denying it: Atlantis had become home. And, as much as she hated to admit it, a barrier had risen between this life that she had created and the world in which her people existed. She tried to convince herself that it was all for the best, that as the leader of the Athosians it was her responsibility to be their voice in the city of Atlantis. But that didn't stop it from hurting.

A loud scraping noise behind her startled Teyla from her daydreams; she turned sharply to see Ronon settling into a chair. "Hey there," he murmured, a spark of mischief behind his gaze as his eyes swept over her face and shoulders, coming to rest on the neckline of her dress. His eyes stopped there, then returned to her face, Teyla noted with respect. "You look beautifuk," his voice rumbled as he leaned back against the chair.

"Hello," Teyla responded with a nod. "And thank you." Her smile was just a fraction too wide.

He caught her, of course. She should have known better. He always seemed to know when she was faking it.

"What's wrong?" he sighed, standing up from his chair and coming to sit beside her on the table in one fluid movement. The heat of his body and the rough scratch of his tunic against her arm were distracting; her lips stumbled for a moment before forming a sentence.

"I am fine."

Ronon eyed her knowingly; she felt naked beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. "Like hell you are."

Teyla met his eyes, throwing as much defiance into her own expression as she could muster. "Ronon, really, it's nothing." A raised eyebrow on his part sent Teyla scrambling for justification. "Look at them," she gestured vaguely in the direction of the gathering crowds. "See how happy they are. For what reason could I possibly be upset on a day like today?"

"Ah," Ronon grunted. "I see." He turned back to watch the crowd, his face blank.

Teyla was disgruntled. "And what, exactly, is it that you see?" She forced the patience into her voice until it seeped out from between the seams.

"You made the right choice," his words escaped as a sigh. "No need to keep torturing yourself over it."

"I beg your pardon?"

Ronon turned to face her, his eyes calm but forceful. "When you decided to live on Atlantis. You did the right thing. No, don't even try," he cut off the beginnings of her protest. "I'm not going to tell you that you can go back, because you can't. It's over and done now. But I will tell you that you made the right choice. These people – your people – they love and respect you just as much as they did the day you left. You've taught them well; just look at the harvest we brought in. It took us weeks, Teyla. Weeks. That's how well they did. See what you've done? You've taught them the steps." He paused for a moment before turning calmly back to watch the crowd. "You didn't abandon them, Teyla. If anything, you're a better leader because you know that you're right where you need to be. The best way that you can help them and protect them now is by living and working in Atlantis."

Teyla prayed to the Ancestors that the little pool of a tear would be content to stay where it was in the corner of her eye. When he leaned to sling his arm casually across her shoulders and murmured "There, better now?", it was more than she could take.

Rheana appeared out of nowhere, just in time to see the tear slide down Teyla's left cheek. Her broad smile faltered momentarily. "Hey, you okay? What's wrong?"

Teyla smiled, already wiping the tear away and forming the words. She wouldn't need them, of course. With a final squeeze of Teyla's shoulder, Ronon released her, leaning back out of her personal space. "She's fine."

"Oh…okay." Rheana's voice was hesitant as she glanced from Teyla to Ronon and back to Teyla again. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that I've got people starting to sit down, so it's about time for you to… you know, do your thing."

"Of course," Teyla smiled quietly.

Rheana nodded and made her way back to the center of the tent, Teyla and Ronon following. Teyla could sense Ronon moving behind her, feel the pressure of his hands as they came to rest on her shoulders once more, his gesture of support. "Knock 'em dead." She felt cold when he pulled away to take his seat.

Teyla continued walking until she had reached the head of the center table. The crowd fell into silence gently – it was more of an ebbing away than a fall, really. She did her best to take it all in. The whistling of night birds, the wind in the trees, a quiet scraping as someone shifted at one of the tables. She felt a pulse take over, bigger and stronger and yet still a part of her own, lifting her up to a place where the words were docile and flowed easily from her chest all the way to spill out over her lips.

"It may seem that, this harvest, we have less to be thankful for than ever before." Her words rang out over the gathering.

"The last year has taken so much from us – our home, our families, our dearest friends. It seems that, no matter where we turn, the Wraith are waiting, waiting to take away all that we have worked and lived and loved for. We sit here tonight with clothes on our backs and roofs over our heads and food to sustain us. But as we look around our table, it is as if all we can see are the faces of those whom we have lost – the faces of those who, in a good and fair life, should be here to celebrate beside us. With the empty chairs of our friends and families surrounding us, it may seem as if we have little to be grateful for."

Silence lanced through the evening air.

"But I ask you, on this long-awaited day of celebration and thanksgiving, to open your eyes and to try to make out the blessings through the tears. I know it is difficult; I realize how much it hurts inside each and every one of us. But if you can look around you, you may just realize how very much we have to be thankful for. It is true that we have suffered much at the hands of the Wraith, that we have been forced to flee our homes, our very way of life simply to survive. And yet we have been blessed with this new home on the planet of the Lanteans, under the protection of the city of our Ancestors. With their guiding hands we have built new homes and raised new crops to feed our families and our children. It is true that we have lost many of our dear ones, but at the same time we have forged new bonds and created new friendships that will last us for as long as we live." With this she tossed a small smile in Ronon's direction. "We have proven, through our struggles, that no matter what the Wraith do to us, no matter what horrors we are forced to endure, the people of Athos will not simply lie down and give up. With the spirits of the Ancestors guiding us, we are not afraid. Because the fact is, my friends, that we are so much greater, so much stronger and more powerful than we seem. And so I ask you to join me in this prayer of thanks."

There was a sort of pure, innocent silence as Teyla closed her eyes and raised her face to the heavens. She looked almost like a child, Ronon would later recall, a small girl watching the skies for the shooting star that would carry all her dreams into the world of reality. Her voice was simply small as she began to speak.

"It is difficult to find the words, Ancestors, to tell you of all that should be said tonight. For even if our mouths were as full of song as the sea, and our words of thanks were as many as the multitude of its waves, and our tongues were as swift as the winds – even if our eyes shone with light like the stars above and our hands were spread forth like the birds of heaven, we should still be unable to thank you enough for even one tiny part of the plenty which you have always bestowed upon our fathers and upon us."

And as she lowered her tear-streaked face back to the crowd, Ronon could have sworn that the rustle of wind in the trees around them whispered Amen.

(-break-)

The sun was fully set by the time the meal ended; torches were lit as a handful of men moved to build up the fire, waging war against the soft, cooling breeze of nightfall. Teyla leaned back in her chair, stretching her shoulders as the Athosians around her scraped back their chairs and made their way closer to the heat of the fire.

Without warning Rheana was beside her, pulling Teyla to her feet. "Hey there, girl. The speech was wonderful."

"Thanks," Teyla smiled. "You did not sit with me during the meal!"

Rheana giggled, a grin sparking across her features. "Yes, well, I had a table of marines pretty much to myself, so don't feel too bad."

"I see," Teyla replied with raised eyebrow.

There was a sudden eruption of cheering to her left as a group of musicians took their place beside the fire. There were a handful of drummers, as well as two or three marines that had brought guitars with them from Atlantis. Teyla had seen them practicing with the village musicians after field work for the past week or so, even teaching a few of the Athosians some basic chords.

"Come on!" Rheana caught Teyla by the shoulder, dragging her excitedly in the direction of the fire. "We should dance!"

Teyla sighed as her friend pulled her through the crowd. "Really, Rheana, don't you think – "

"Don't even start. You're dancing this year." Rheana looked back over her shoulder at Teyla. "I'm not asking."

A few moments later the crowd cleared; they had reached the edge of the ring of firelight. Thick, patterned mats for the dancers had been laid in a wide circle around the firepit. As Teyla bent to remove her shoes, a loud whistle sounded from above her. "Ey! Ronon!"

She glanced up to see Rheana waving her arm in a grossly exaggerated "come hither" gesture and sighed. "Rheana, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm calling your boyfriend over."

"I believe the fact that I do not have a boyfriend may be a key flaw in your plan."

"Right, well, he's still coming over. Yeah, you," Rheana laughed as Ronon reached the edge of the mats, a question in his eyes. "You'll want to watch this."

Ronon's head tilted to one side, eyes flicking curiously to Teyla, then back to the other girl. "What?"

Rheana dismissed him with an absentminded hand gesture. "Right. First Harvest Festival. You'd think I'd remember that by now." She continued speaking as she bent down to unfasten her sandals. "The meal is always followed by traditional dances. This one's just for the women, but luckily for you," Rheana clapped her hands down on Teyla's shoulders, "this one's going to participate for the first time in far too many years. Which is really a shame, because she used to be the best – "

Teyla tried to interject. "She exaggerates. I am certain – "

Rheana cut her off with a tug, steering her friend by the arm towards the already-forming group of dancers. Looking back over her shoulder, she called out to Ronon one final time. "I never exaggerate. Trust me, Loverboy, keep your eyes on this one and you're in for a show."

Teyla tried hard to laugh off her embarrassment, willing the blush to leave her cheeks as she made her way into the circle. It was useless, of course; her heart rate nearly doubled as she took her place beside the bonfire and planted her right foot, bringing the left to a point behind her. She felt the fire against her face; when she lifted her gaze to wait for the starting beat, flame practically filled her vision. She heard Rheana's anklet jingle as she took a similar stance immediately to Teyla's left.

For a split second it occurred to her that she hadn't danced in years. And then, of course, it was too late. The starting beat sounded and she was swept into the current of it all, woven into the circle of spinning arms and falling steps.

Her feet faltered for a few moments, struggling to find their rhythm on the thick mats, but she was soon falling back into the music, calling from the distant edges of her memory the steps her mother had taught her so long ago.

It was a traditional dance, one of Teyla's childhood favorites. She couldn't help but grin widely as the steps came back to her. She threw her head back and laughed as she spun to the left, weaving past the other dancers as the dance carried her around the circle. The heat of the fire felt good against her skin, mixing with the warmth of movement and adrenaline to brush away any traces of the quickly-cooling night air. The beat of the drums took over, shaping her, driving her on, erasing everything she knew until all that remained was pounding feet and swinging arms and the clapping heartbeat of her people. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of Ronon pacing along the edge of the mats, a hand in his hair and a wide grin on his face. Drawing a strange thrill from the idea of his eyes on her, she threw herself even deeper into the dance.

The song was over all too quickly. It was more exhilaration than exhaustion that was responsible for her rapid breathing; she stepped away from the fire for a moment, drinking in the cool night air.

Ronon waited for her at the edge of the blanketed space, offering up a flask of water and a broad smile. "You were great out there," he murmured as she accepted the drink gratefully.

Teyla raised an eyebrow as she cradled the flask. "I can hardly remember the last time I heard that dance. It is highly doubtful that I even got the steps right."

Ronon chuckled, meeting her gaze coolly. "Well, it looked good from here." Teyla shivered at the slight lilt to his voice, the open way in which he let his eyes graze over her neck and shoulders. This was one of the habits in which Ronon's unwavering self-confidence was most easily apparent; if this man was watching you, you'd know it. She returned his gaze in silence for a moment, letting her mind wander aimlessly over the night's events.

Within a few minutes the drummers returned to their places, this time followed by a teenaged girl holding a flute.

A melody floated out over the gathering, cool and sweet and enchanting as it misted gently through the night air. Teyla smiled in recognition as the drums started up, twining with the flute in a deceptively rapid beat. She set her flask down on the nearest table, turning to face Ronon once more. "This one is a partner dance," she stated simply, her chin lifting slightly as she met his gaze. "And a long-standing tradition of the Harvest Festival. You up for it?"

He returned her grin with a raised eyebrow. "Sure."

They avoided eye contact rather uncharacteristically as they made their way to the edge of the mats, Ronon pausing to slip off his boots before stepping onto the thick weave. It took Teyla a moment to realize that he remained at the edge as she made her way to the gathering group of dancers. She tilted her head to the side, the question written across her face.

"Oh," Ronon grunted. "I, uh, don't really know the steps."

Teyla laughed at his concerned frown, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into place as the music continued to pick up speed and a tambourine joined the pulsing harmony. "It's simple, actually," she explained as she placed his hands on her waist. "Step with the loudest drum, always spin clockwise, and move your feet to follow mine. It's pretty easy if you just focus on keeping yourself facing me."

With that she placed a hand firmly on his shoulder and spun them into the tide.

It took Ronon a few moments to settle into the beat, but quickly he realized that Teyla had been right. Though "easy" wasn't quite the word he would use – it was more that the steps felt right; there was something familiar, something instinctive to the fire-heat against his arms, the feel of her touch on his skin as the steps drew them closer together, the disorienting sense of falling as she pulled away again. They spun and wove through the other dancers, settling quickly into the pattern. Within two minutes he was able to lift his gaze from his feet and absorb the world around him – the swing of Teyla's hair as she stepped to the side, bright sparks flying up from the fire, the flickering lines of his own shadow. All of a sudden he became aware of the sound of his own laughter, a wide grin conquering his features as he picked Teyla up and lifted her through a turn. His bare feet took on a life of their own, stomping firmly with the drums, quickly kicking out the more complicated steps as a tambourine rose above the music. It was as if he was grabbing the world by its shoulders and spinning it out around him, sending color and shape alike flying into the night sky.

Without warning the drums dropped away, leaving only the melody; his steps faltered as a mysterious smile flickered across Teyla's features. Raising her hands once more to his shoulders, she pushed down slightly; Ronon yielded to the pressure and fell to his knees. With a flick of his eyes Ronon saw the other men do the same; satisfied, he turned back to Teyla. The overarching notes of the melody continued on, falling thick and heavy through the night to mix with the warm air surrounding the fire. Teyla's eyes caught hold of his with a kind of power, taking him hostage, ripping through the last vestiges of his higher brain function.

The seconds felt like an eternity as Teyla traced her finger from the corner of his eye down to his neck, searing its path into his skin. That odd smile of hers widened as his pupils shocked out, then back again; the pad of her index finger continued its path across his shoulder. She kept the tiny point of contact unbroken as she stepped, tip-toe, to his right, dragging her fingertip under his ear before trailing it through the thick braids. Ronon felt the seconds stretch into eons as she continued the steps until she came to face him again, her finger flicking up against his chin, pulling his face up to meet her own. The circle was completed.

Her hands returned to grasp his shoulders tightly as a single flute note hung in the air, then fell into silence. It was as if the world was breathless, waiting in unbearable anticipation for the tiny spark that would send it all hurtling over the edge.

It came, of course, because that sort of unbroken harmony never does last, does it?

A single, booming beat sounded from the drums as Teyla drew him forcefully to his feet. Ronon prepared himself automatically for the next step, but it never came. Her fingers tensed quickly, eyes flashing a warning; he stilled and she relaxed again.

One, two count. Just long enough to breathe. Once.

The drums rose again with a roar, racing out into the night. There was a savage, desperate finality to their tone this time. The thundering pulse would go unchallenged, of course; the crowds had fallen silent with the flute what seemed like forever ago. It had engulfed them all, this mighty storm, this unstoppable tempest of sound and color and life.

Teyla stepped quickly into Ronon's space, her feet falling to interweave with his own, hands sliding to rest on his collarbone. His own hands moved instinctively to her waist. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

And, as suddenly as the drums had come, they were gone, falling sharply out of the star-pierced sky.

Ronon was sure there must have been a stillness then, a perfect silence, the sound of uninterrupted peace and settling air and a people who had re-forged a proud, living heartbeat against all kinds of hellish odds.

He just couldn't hear it over all the cheering.

-(break)-

After a few moments of charged stillness Teyla backed down, averting her eyes as she stepped almost timidly away. The cold air swept over Ronon as she took her body heat with her. The cheering died down gradually, replaced by loud conversation and constant laughter once more.

The silence between them was tangible. Teyla's fingers trailed up almost absently to brush her hair back from her sweat-beaded forehead; Ronon whistled but no sound came out. He still couldn't seem to catch his breath.

It was Teyla who tentatively broke the silence. "Well, there you have it," she chuckled softly. "Your very first Harvest Dance."

Something within Ronon settled right then, something just below and to the left of his rib cage. He wasn't sure just what it was exactly, but it felt right there, felt like it belonged – felt like it had never left all those years ago, never disappeared in fire and brimstone with the last breaths of his world.

He doubted he would ever know what that moment was called, ever find the words to describe the feeling that spiked through him as Teyla's smiling eyes met his own. But there was one thing he was sure of.

There would be no more running.

He could feel Teyla watching him as he exhaled powerfully, bending to rest his hands on his knees. She smiled, but there was something different in her eyes, something darker and purer that looked like a decision. Deep down she understood, he thought. Maybe something in her was settling too.

She turned then, preparing to make her way back to the mats' edge, but she never made it. Ronon straightened quickly, letting one of his hands fall firmly on her shoulder. He spun her back to face him.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Confused, Teyla gestured vaguely at the other dancers who were already making their way off the mats. Even the musicians were setting down their instruments, starting back to the tables to rest their hands and drink some cool water.

Ronon shook his head in mock disapproval. "Nice try."

He looked down and slid his hands around her hips, pulling her against him firmly. Teyla's mind spun at the sudden contact, at the feel of his fingers toying with the fabric at her waist. He dropped his eyes to meet hers. There was a feral look there, an outpouring of fire and energy and something else, something she vaguely recognized. It took her a moment to place it, but then she knew. It was the look she always found on his face when he pinned her to a wall in the gym back on Atlantis, when her sticks clattered to the floor and her head fell back and something inside him ticked it all off as another challenge overcome, another battle fought and won.

His lips were on hers before she even registered the movement, even noticed his right hand sliding up her back while the other tangled in her hair. The last bits of her rational thought vanished into oblivion as his teeth scraped over her bottom lip, his finger grazing the sensitive area below her earlobe, and suddenly everything was spinning and moving and pulsing all around and she couldn't have stopped it even if she wanted to. Her hand came up to his neck, tentatively at first, then determined as it sought out his pulse point. She smiled into his lips as she felt the artery jump under her fingers.

It didn't occur to her until he pulled away, of course, that the crowd of Athosians was still staring at them intently and had, at some point, broken back into cheering. From the corner of her eye she saw Rheana wave enthusiastically, then bring her fingers to her mouth in a loud wolf-whistle. Teyla blushed furiously, burying herself in Ronon's chest, reveling in the feel of his laughter under her as the crowd slowly dissipated back in the direction of the tables.

"Well," Teyla murmured, lifting her eyes to meet Ronon's. "That should start a decent number of rumors. At least as far as the mainland is concerned."

"Nah," Ronon chuckled, hands sliding down to rest on her waist once more. "The marines have long-range radios. I'd say we've got about twenty minutes before all of Atlantis is gossiping too."

Teyla raised an eyebrow, her expression deliberately blank. "Well, I most certainly cannot say that I've ever been the primary topic of conversation for an entire planet before."

"Mmmm…" Ronon hummed, bending to trace his lips lightly over the lines of her tattoo, his teeth nipping playfully at the darkened skin over her pulse point. "McKay'll be jealous."

Teyla couldn't help but laugh, raising her chin obligingly as he nuzzled into her neck with a low groan. As his still-ragged breath spilled across the dark lines of the tattoo, she smiled up at the stars. They winked and sputtered in the heated air of the fire. It was as if she were watching not the sky itself but its reflection on the ocean's surface, dark water ebbing gently to a calm after the longest storm ever imagined.

The laugh slowly died in her throat; she wove her fingers into Ronon's hair, watching the smoke ripple out over the sky.

Even the stars were dancing.

– END CHAPTER SIX –

A/N: Well, there you have it, folks. Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter… again, please don't hesitate to drop me a review if you did. For all those among you that have posted stories on this site, you know how amazing it feels to get feedback… for those of you that are just readers, take my word for it, it's wonderful. So do a girl a favor and drop me a note. Even just a short one. Please. (Me? Desperate? Whyever would you say that?) There may or may not be an epilogue showing up in the next few weeks, so stay tuned for that if you're interested. And… that's all I have to say about that. Love y'all.