Ardhanarishvara Part Twenty
P. 1 - 17
Part 18
Part 19
~*~
"...so incredibly, incredibly sorry," Selh says. She's pacing her living room, in one of the mushroom houses Teyla has noted, a cluster of domes neatly fitted into a hillside, shaded by several old growth trees. Selh moves from the window front to the arch of the doorway, her gaze flickering over the team with worry and regret.
For the eighth time now. Teyla has been counting since Selh started apologizing - once they were in the hover car the police offered, on their way to her home. She presses the cool pack against her brow and gives the woman a reassuring smile. "It is all right." The mark on her forehead is barely a bruise. The pain is already subsiding, as is the ache in her ankle where the edge of the one boy's sandal hit her just below the joint. It helps that Teyla knows the boy is very, very sorry for his misstep.
"Yeah, don't beat yourself up over it," Sheppard nods, amiably but without taking her eyes off the small mirror she had in her kit, cleaning the cut on her chin. Her hair is even more tousled than before, and there are dirt-streaks on her cheek, collarbone, and running down the side of her body where she tripped and hit the pavement during the commotion. She's perched on the edge of a bright orange couch.
"Someone else already tried that." Rodney looks remarkably unharmed, except for his torn jacket, which is probably beyond repair. From the twisted expression on his face, one would think him mortally wounded, though. "Of all the troubles I fully well expected to be dragged into on this planet, a riot wasn't even on the short list; never mind that it's a very long short list." He's still on his feet, working off adrenaline with his hand gestures and complaints, "Really, I should've known my ordeal wouldn't be over with Farl's psychological exercises - not the ones about comprehension and basic concepts, which were ridiculous; a well-trained rhesus monkey could have done them. Of course -" a breathless little laugh, discomfort shining through, "the others were - actually, I would prefer not to talk about them, seeing as they were, um, quite personal."
And he does close his mouth again, almost flustered. Teyla knows she is staring, but it is so unusual for Rodney to shut up when it comes to scientific processes, especially any that offer power generation beyond their wildest dreams. Teyla had known the Enlightenment lessons with Farl had caused Rodney some measure of distress, as her earlier efforts to learn about them from Rodney had been unsuccessful - Rodney had merely mumbled a few words about "action potential" and "cognitive restructuring" before deliberately stepping away from Teyla - but she hadn't quite expected him to refuse to elaborate at all. Curious, and not particularly heartening.
A cough from the doorway. Selh's partner, Hira, is framed by light filtering in from the corridor. He is almost as tall as Selh but broader, with a thoughtful, deeply-lined face and a shock of white hair. A man Teyla liked immediately on sight, he possesses the typical Hermean serenity. "I'm sorry that our welcome fell a little short when you arrived - and for the attack, of course."
"Wasn't much of an attack." Ronon shrugs. "We're fine." She's barely glanced at the scratches on her arm, tolerating Selh's ointment spray but shrugging off anything beyond a couple of adhesive bits of bandage. Teyla notes with surprise that they match Ronon's skin color perfectly, something she's never seen with the band-aids the Earthers use. "You come to tell us about dinner?"
A startled laugh from Hira. "Well, yes. It was almost done when you arrived, but I assumed you'd want to rest a moment, or possibly, after this incident, leave immediately. That would be -"
"Completely unnecessary, and a waste of what I am hoping is good food." Rodney waves an impatient hand at Hira. "Our team has seen much worse, my friend. This doesn't even faze us."
Teyla feels her eyebrow rise of its own volition. Sheppard slants Rodney a Look Who's Talking glance before nodding at Hira. "What Rodney means is, we're okay, and we'd love to have dinner with you." The smile does not quite reach her eyes, though. "Didn't you say the others would be coming as well?"
Hira glances at Selh, whose fingers are tapping the comm device set into what is obviously a desk sitting by a round window. "Yes, Jari and Gean will be here in a little while; their arrival has been delayed due to the incident."
"So good to see political euphemisms are alive and well in the Pegasus galaxy as well." Rodney tugs unhappily at his jacket.
Teyla glances quickly in Selh's direction, but she does not seem angered, merely abashed. No, the Hermeans did not expect any of this to happen, and are trying to make amends.
"If I may -" Hira looks from Rodney to the rest of the group, "Even if nothing serious has happened, your clothing seems, uh, a little impaired."
Sheppard blinks and stares down at herself a little sadly, fingering the hem of her sooty jacket between thumb and forefinger. "Nah, it's nothing."
"Please." Selh, nodding to Hira. "Until Gean and Jari arrive, why don't you have a look in our closet and take whatever you need?" A frown mars her features. "Actually, after today's events, I would suggest all of you don our kind of dress: you will have to return to your ship, and while we can find a safe and effective means of transportation for you, I would vastly prefer not to smuggle you out of my house as if you were - something besides honored guests of this planet."
Not an appealing thought to Teyla either.
"Oh. Yes, yes, that's quite obvious - I mean - if you really don't mind, which is probably the case, since you offered in the first place?" Rodney babbles.
Ronon shrugs and agrees laconically. Torn up clothes are low on Ronon's list of priorities. "Wouldn't mind a look."
Sheppard's still fingering her jacket and finally nods. "Yeah, well, okay. Why not?"
Why is she not surprised? Teyla suppresses a sigh and follows Selh's and the others' lead into what is obviously a chamber designated to storing clothing. A lot of clothing. Teyla is curious. Athosians can generally keep everything they wear in a single trunk. Selh and Hira have an entire room devoted to storage - a large room. "Selh? I believe I understand why your people would keep a variety of clothing on hand, but why in so many different sizes?"
Returning home has been kind to Selh; once again, she has found her footing. "Hira and I not only have four children, we also have eleven grandchildren and two great-granddaughters by now. Kids, they outgrow clothes so fast...and they never want to clean out their old bedrooms."
When Teyla turns, Ronon is grinning, eyes soft, voice even more so. "My grandmother used to say that, too. Well, complained."
Selh smiles. "House rules are if they leave it here, we can use it too, as we please."
Selh leaves them again, after inviting them to take whatever they happen to like. Teyla does not relish the thought of wearing a stranger's clothes, and changing into Hermean garb is bound to make her feel more vulnerable. The Lantean uniform she is fine with by now, but this? They have so little of their people with them she does not like to give up even something as trivial as clothing. She moves over to Ronon and punches her lightly in the side, keeping her voice low. "You, Ronon Dex. Why did you agree to this?"
Not even a flicker of surprise; Ronon glances down at Teyla's fist as if it were an insect. "Thought we might find out more about Selh. Now that we're here, we might as well."
Rodney laughs at that, sudden enough to make Sheppard let go of the tunic she was poking. "Yes, yes, of course. Nice try, Ronon. Just go ahead and own up to the fact that you're one hundred percent girl!"
To Teyla's amazement, Ronon doesn't seem offended. She just grins like a crazy person and shoulders Rodney to the side, an action that makes Rodney grunt and mutter - Teyla suspects it is not because he's hurt but because it takes Ronon no effort at all. When Teyla glances back at Sheppard, however, the colonel's knuckles are white, the lines around her eyes more prominent. She has turned away from the coat rack, lips pressed together.
She steps closer, lays a hand on Sheppard's arm. "Colonel?"
She looks down at Teyla and nods. In the bright light of the clothes chamber, Teyla can see soft wrinkles below her eyes, wrinkles from smiling. The colonel isn't smiling now. "Yeah. Let's grab something and not -" Her voice trails off, but nothing more than a glance back is needed.
Ronon and Rodney are working their way through the racks of garments, Ronon lifting and inspecting each dress with a suspiciously amused expression and Rodney firing a steady stream of good-humored commentary masked as criticism.
"I agree." Teyla clears her throat. "Ronon? Rodney?"
"- fit for the Queen, or, well, some queen, anyway. What?"
Ronon just waits.
"Guys, we're thinking, just do it. Don't want to spend more time in a -" A brief moment of hesitation before Sheppard continues, "in here."
"Fine." Rodney huffs out a long-suffering sigh, peers at the clothes rack as if it were a particularly stubborn equation, and then grabs a pair of tight green pants and a light, bright shirt that seems to change color with every movement. "You don't mind?" He doesn't wait for their answer; just steps out of his torn uniform and squirms with a small grunt of effort into the Hermean garb, which, amazingly, seems to fit rather well. Teyla has seen - noticed, if she is honest - Rodney's blue zip-up shirts, but she thinks no pants of Rodney's at home will outline his legs, his back, and everything in between quite like this, though.
Why is she even thinking about this?
When Ronon makes a sound, Teyla turns to her, grateful at first, less grateful by the minute, for Ronon's facial expression makes pretty clear that she will not be outdone by McKay. After one long, measuring glance, Ronon reaches over Rodney's arm and snatches yet another dress - blue, frills and laces, and Ronon cannot be - no, she is serious: She's dropping her soiled shirt and pants and bending down to clumsily step into the flowing, glittery mass of fabric. Teyla cannot turn fast enough to fully avoid looking at skin, breasts - nipples - at impossibly long legs. There's a slight hitch of breath next to her proving Sheppard was not any quicker.
"Are you completely fashion-impaired?" Rodney's voice, booming, enough to make her twist her head and glance at the two of them. Rodney stops Ronon with a quick shake of his head. His fingers on Ronon's arms are almost gentle, though. An impatient Give Me That motion, and Ronon snorts but does hand him the dress. "Now, on your knees."
Ronon stares. So do Teyla and Sheppard, who has closed her mouth again, begins to mumble, "Uh, Rodney...?"
"Oh, come on. A little faith, here? She's too tall standing up!" To Ronon, who has shrugged and dropped to her knees with uncanny ease, "Now, lift your arms." Ronon does.
"No, I mean -" Sheppard's brow furrows in confusion, "why do you know about getting into dresses?" The shadow of her smirk when she drawls, "Have you been holding out on us?"
"Hah. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Amusement in Rodney's voice, and something oddly like triumph. "My mother - well, she wasn't always around, and Jeannie loved dresses." He rolls his eyes, but the glint in his eyes is a fond one, "We're talking loved them, the frillier and pinker, the better. I refused to touch them, of course -"
"Of course," Sheppard deadpans.
"- but she wouldn't stop screaming, and I simply couldn't concentrate on my work." Work? From the story, Teyla would have thought them both still very young, but there is no irony in Rodney's voice. It would explain a lot about him, she thinks, that even as a boy he was miffed not about being interrupted in play but in something he considered a vocation. "So, in the end, I stormed into her room, figured out how these things worked, and put Jeannie in whatever...glittering abomination she wanted at the moment."
During his explanations, Rodney has, careful hands belying his tale, managed to pull the dress over Ronon's head; if he smooths it out for perhaps a little too long, Teyla cannot blame him. Ronon's smile when she glances up at Rodney is surprised but fond. After he's fastened everything, Ronon stands up, slowly.
Sheppard steps a little closer to the two of them, hands on her hips, and drawls, "Rodney, if you wanted to play dress-up, all you had to do was ask."
Rodney's hands are still on the fabric of Ronon's dress. He turns his head, and his eyes widen - almost comically, if there were anything funny about this moment. There is not.
"Put in a requisition for a Barbie Doll." Sheppard says with an insouciant shrug. "The Daedalus won't notice the extra weight of a couple of cartons."
Teyla does not understand the reference, but it isn't necessary. Rodney's face tells everything: uncertainty, a flare of hurt, then annoyance. "Ha-ha. Ha. Your wit's so sharp I've got papercuts, Colonel. And I'm very much looking forward to helping you with one of these complicated Hermean shirts...oh no, wait, I'm not!"
"Rodney," Teyla says, hoping to forestall a sniping session. The tension between the colonel and Rodney has been rising since they arrived.
Sheppard shrugs as if their exchange meant nothing; she just bends her head, glances away, and grins, nowhere near easy. "I think I can handle dressing myself, McKay."
Rodney's expression is notably tighter now. "If so, why don't you get on with it? Dinner's waiting, and I can feel my blood sugar dropping."
"Food's a good idea," Ronon mumbles, voice neutral.
"It is." Teyla smiles, as soothing as she can. "Ronon, why don't you and Rodney go ahead, since you are already dressed? Make our excuses to Selh; we'll be just a moment."
"Gladly," Rodney snaps.
Sheppard stares after Rodney even as Ronon gives her a nod before following him out of the room. Then she shrugs again and snatches the first dark outfit in her size off of one of the racks - which turns out to be something shimmery in deep blue-black. Teyla is breathing a little easier now, but that does not mean she feels like suggesting to Sheppard that she should change her selection yet again, even though Teyla suspects the pants and skin-tight top may be half transparent in the right light.
Not wanting to make the same mistake, Teyla takes a few more moments to find clothing that won't do anything unexpected. Sheppard has skinned into the new clothes while Teyla's back was turned and is smoothing the fabric over her hips. "It's kind of slick," she murmurs uncertainly.
"It is okay, Colonel," Teyla assures her and turns back to dress herself. Pants loose enough to accommodate this still strange physique, tunic, also loose enough for comfort of movement, and purple has always been a favorite color. The pattern woven into the fabric is much subtler than most Herman fashion. Of course, most anything is.
Their boots are all lined up by the door, next to Selh and Hira's footwear and that of the other guests. The floor itself is smooth and warmer than Atlantis' under her bare feet. The Hermeans apparently prefer to go barefoot in private dwellings. Teyla approves. Sometimes Atlantis is just too regimented for comfort. No one ever seems relaxed there.
Sheppard is staring at the floor, or her feet, and wiggling long toes when Teyla finishes dressing and turns back. Her arms are folded again and her lower lip is just a trifle redder than usual, like she's been biting it. "Ready?" she asks, without looking up.
"I am ready, Colonel."
"Good, let's get this over with," Sheppard says, and strides out.
~*~
Hira smiles. "I chose to make some of our most popular dishes from the various lir; of course, you're most welcome to try everything and leave what isn't to your taste." They are sitting around Selh's and Hira's dinner table, which is bending under the weight of the plates, bowls, and pots - fragrant, and appetizing, indeed.
"Oh," Sheppard says, Charm The Natives mask firmly in place, "I'm sure it's all very tasty." Wide smile that shows even teeth. "We're not picky." And they aren't, the Lanteans. As a rule, anyway; Sheppard is very obviously glancing at Rodney when she says it.
Rodney does not notice. He is busy grinning at Ronon, who keeps tugging at the ribbons of her dress with an expression of supreme amusement. Teyla watches Sheppard watching Rodney just a few moments too long, the carefully schooled friendliness slipping and showing bewilderment before she recovers and, with mumbled thanks, accepts the bowl of tiny bread balls Selh is handing to her.
Teyla suspects it's not truly the ribbons that capture Rodney's attention but the way Ronon's dark blue dress is stretched tightly across her chest. Ronon never wears what the Earthers call a bra and Teyla suddenly wishes she would, for once: Hermean fabric tends to be thin and flow like water, outlining every curve. Teyla cannot help setting eyes on the round nubs of Ronon's nipples. Teyla usually has rather definite opinions about the Earthers' tendency to wear heavy, prudish fabric, but now she would welcome it. What looks striking and exotic on Selh or Jari feels jarring when it comes to Ronon and Sheppard, something Teyla was never meant to see - private, too private to bear. Teyla looks away but manages to put on a bright expression for Selh and Hira. "I would love to try a bit of everything. You seem a very enthusiastic cook, Hira."
He laughs at that, winks at Teyla. "Hope by the end of the dinner, you'll also consider me a good one."
Teyla knows what to say, but this man, this couple makes it possible to just smile and say, "We shall see about that."
"Wise, wise." Gean nods, and there's a flash of humor in his eyes, too. It's a first; he's seemed almost as agitated as Selh had been before they made it to her home. Teyla feels a pang of sympathy for these people, remade by new contact with people from across the stars. Just like the Athosians.
Rodney is making an effort towards manners and not talking with his mouth full for once, Teyla notes. That may be because he wants to impress Jari. The scientist arrived before their group limped in, displaying the proper level of horror regarding the riot. She's been smiling and flirting with Rodney since. He seems delighted; no wonder.
Gean arrived last, wearing a orange and yellow kilt over a green skinsuit that made Teyla's eyes water. It doesn't seem to bother Ronon, though. He's sitting next on the other side of Ronon, who is talking with him animatedly. Teyla is surprised. Mostly because - Ronon is talking.
Sheppard seems less delighted. Each time Rodney smiles back at Jari or leans forward and talks past Ronon, brushing shoulders with her, Sheppard's jaw tightens a little, and takes another sip of the drink that was served with their food. Teyla suspects it's to keep herself from snapping something unwise. Teyla frowns. The amber-colored liquid tastes fresh, like fruit and honey, but Teyla has known similar beverages. It is almost certainly far more alcoholic than it seems, and unfortunately, of all their team, Colonel Sheppard deals with alcohol least well.
She knows this from the time on PX-5345, where the grateful natives arranged a ceremonial festival after the team had, very unceremoniously, killed two crashed Wraith "haunting" the village. Luckily, Teyla's father taught her to hold her drink, and as the last conscious member of the team, she took only a small part in the Great Re-Enactment of the Slaying. Teyla remembers fondly how helpful the priestesses were. Together, they managed to get the feather-and-sticks costumes off the colonel, Rodney, and Ronon again, and the three of them off the wooden stage, before they came to. Teyla isn't sure any of them even remember anything after the fourth glass of nininc. To be truthful, her own memory is blurry after the seventh glass.
Amusing as the experience was, Teyla does not actually care for a repeat performance, in more than one way. So when Sheppard reaches for her glass again, Teyla coughs. Sheppard glances at her, then at her own outstretched hand. She grimaces, but nods and doesn't touch it.
Too bad Rodney and Ronon aren't as cooperative. Rodney's giggling at something Jari said while Ronon is swaying in her chair. In fact, Ronon seems to be well into her third glass. She also seems to be well into Gean now, judging from the way she leans over when he explains something in his earnest yet excited way.
"Did I mention, Jari showed me some of the physical equipment that goes into the cloak," Rodney says excitedly. His voice is slightly louder than normal. Not that Rodney isn't loud anyway, but Teyla recognizes the effect of the wine. Rodney likes to think he can drink, but he isn't much better at handling it than Colonel Sheppard.
"There's non-physical equipment going into the cloak?" Sheppard drawls - Teyla supposes more to needle Rodney than to ask the question itself.
"Of course," Selh comments, looking surprised.
"That's the purpose of Completion and Enlightenment," Jari says. She looks so sincere Teyla puts away any suspicion.
"Preparation," Hira says from the other side of the table. He seems quite complacent.
Selh smiles at him. "Hira has done twelve rotations." She sounds deeply proud of that.
"Rotations?" mumbles Sheppard, looking around the table in growing confusion; Teyla thinks she speaks for the whole team.
"One rotation means one period of service in the Gestalt." Hira bows his head, a humble gesture. "We are chosen randomly from the able populace, for a month each, but of course there are safeguards and opt-outs."
"What he isn't saying: He volunteered." Jari smirks. "Of course, with his partner getting a comfy government salary...."
"Like Akee?" Selh asks, pointedly.
Jari shrugs and grins, obviously ceding defeat. "Fine, fine. Akee's not exactly jumping up and down when it comes to the service - but only because she's keeping a pretty crazy schedule!" She glances at Selh's husband. "Hira, seriously, I know you've gone above and beyond the call of duty."
"Oh, come on." Hira gives her a smile and stands up, busies himself with helping Teyla to a bowl of small, gold-roasted nuts that smell heavenly. "As you say, I could, so I did. Did most of it once the kids were out of the house, after all."
Teyla takes a bite - they taste as good as their scent promised - and looks up again. "Selh already told us about your children. They are well and happy, I hope?"
Both of them beam, but it's Selh who answers, "Oh yes, they are. Of course, we don't see them often enough."
Hira nods. "It was pretty, shall we say, interesting around here when they still lived at home. Of course, now that Unai and Vael have children of their own, a lot of the old lovely chaos is back." He shakes his head as if to clear it. "But let me not bore you with parenting stories. I'm afraid I'll talk about the kids at any chance I get."
"No wonder." Selh smiles fondly at him. "You've lived through pretty much every moment with them when they were still babies and toddlers and schoolkids. I'm often sad I missed so much of that."
Teyla blinks. The thought is odd enough to warrant a question. "So you left your children with your husband and returned to work after they did not need to be fed by you any more?" It is, Teyla thinks, probably quite a sensible solution, though an unusual one.
"By me?" Surprise on Selh's face, and then a dawning understanding. "Oh, no. I didn't have the kids; Hira did."
If Teyla's smile slips and she turns to stare at Hira with an expression that is not admiration, not appreciation at all - she can't help either.
"You?" Sheppard drawls, staring at Hira with wide eyes.
The immediate answer is a puzzled look, but then Hira nods in understanding. "Sure. I'm fond of this sex, but back when we decided to have children - well, it was pre-election time, and Selh was busy supervising Kael Daan's campaign pretty much around the clock."
"I never knew!" Jari cuts in, with something akin to awe, "You were Daan's campaign manager? No wonder she became President." Teyla is still trying to process - Hira was mother to Selh and his children? For once she feels as out of depth as Sheppard. Birth has always seemed to be a women's secret, but here she is face with a man who knows it - more intimately even than Teyla, who has never had a child. She stabs a vegetable and chews it, rather than say anything, while the Hermeans speak of matters that mean little to Atlantis, merely the day to day of their lives.
Selh laughs. "I never knew you cared for politics, Jari."
"I don't. But I care for politicians - the good ones, anyway." An impish smile. "The ones that help boosting the research budget."
"So that's how you won this young lady's heart," Hira teases, looking at Selh, "I'd been wondering"
"Won her mind, more like." Gean smiles his serious little smile, and turns back to the team. "Now, we have tried to ease you into this dimension of the cloak." He clears his throat. "Our historical records tell of great unrest sweeping the nation when we first introduced Completion."
"Really?" Rodney asks. After today's events, the words "great unrest" and "sweeping" do not seem to sit well with him.
Gean nods, looks at Teyla with a look of honest regret. "Some could not take it, some would not."
That - Teyla frowns. Was that meant personally?
Sheppard licks her lips, stares at Gean, far from cheerful. "We're doing the best we can, Gean."
"Of course you are," Selh says, giving Gean a quieting look.
Ronon quirks an eyebrow; she doesn't look at Gean quite so fondly any more. She reaches across the table, takes another bite from the not-exactly-fish dish with yellow sauce. "So, what's the cloak have to do with Completion?"
It's Hira who answers. "Our cloak is wholly powered by a mental component. The kind of energy necessary for the cloak cannot be generated by one mind in Gestalt, or even ten. Instead, at any given point, we have one-thousand-and-one of us who've undergone Completion, combined."
"What, like merged?" Sheppard sounds vaguely horrified. Rodney just looks fascinated. Ronon chews. All in all, Teyla feels rather more sympathetic toward the colonel. Such an invasion of privacy is distasteful at best and terrifying at worst. To let strangers in your mind? It sounds unbearable.
Jari looks thoughtful. "We don't lose our identities, if that's what you meant - but in a lot of ways, that makes the process harder."
"If only." Gean nods quietly. "The fact that we are still ourselves yet more than that - it is an enormous strain."
"Only by achieving a special state of mind can one withstand the stress involved," Selh adds. "Completion and Enlightenment prepare us for that."
"Oh, of course." Rodney snaps his fingers, cheeks reddened from excitement. "We stand within each other."
Sheppard looks at him in disbelief. "You get this?"
Rodney blinks. "Well, in a very theoretical fashion, yes." It makes Sheppard reach for her glass and take a long swallow while Rodney continues, blithely, "Jari has shown me the generator module, after all, and Farl - well, I've already mentioned my feelings of abject humiliation." His cheeks redden, and he bends over his plate with a defiant little hunch.
"Sheppard." Ronon is looking at her, eyes kind. "You become someone else - inside, outside. You learn how the other half lives."
The colonel does not look convinced, or relieved. Teyla can empathize.
"Historically, when we began using the cloak," Hira says, "many people suffered breakdowns and were even rendered catatonic by service in the Gestalt."
"But you've solved that problem," Rodney states. A little more fearfully, "You did, right?"
Gean looks almost grim. "Eventually. Many minds were fractured before that."
Jari lets out a loud huff. "Cut down on the sad stories, guys! Yes, we did!"
"I still don't like the sound of that," Sheppard mutters.
Selh slants her a glance, puts a reassuring hand on Sheppard's arm. "It's true what she says - while the strain is still intense, we have calibrated the machinery in such a way that it is virtually safe."
"To answer your question, Rodney - indeed, we did manage," Hira adds. "In time, our studies revealed some fascinating truths. Those who were most flexible in their thinking dealt best with the Gestalt."
"Flexible thinking?" Sheppard, looking a little confused. "You mean smart like Rodney?"
Hira smiles. "Not exactly, though that surely is no hindrance. Among many scientific studies of their genetics and environments, it became apparent that those who dealt best with the gestalt were those who had either found true spirituality or who were functional bisexuals."
"Functional?" Sheppard's voice sounds a little faint.
"Functional, as in accepted and happy with their bisexuality." Jari smiles at her.
Sheppard nods at that, but Teyla can see that happiness is the farthest thing from Sheppard's mind. Teyla has observed it is not usually the most prominent feeling among the Earthers when it comes to non-conventional couples.
Gean lifts his index finger. "And that is the other side: Technology needed to be perfected, but we found that it helped best to train ourselves, our minds. Our souls, if you will." He gives Rodney a careful look, which shows insight on his part.
There is the hint of a sneer in the corner of Rodney's mouth at that mention. "Voodoo," Rodney mutters quietly.
"McKay," Sheppard says.
"Fine. Fine."
This is one of the instances, Teyla thinks, when it is a lucky occurrence that Rodney and Sheppard talk in their own slang so often. None of the Hermeans seem to care about Rodney's comment. As for speaking up, Teyla wishes she could contribute more, but like Sheppard, she thinks this revelation is hardly a positive one. She feels no desire whatsoever to join minds with the Hermeans or, indeed, anyone. Of course, they are human - can it be worse than looking inside the Wraith, inside that maelstrom of hunger and twisted thinking?
"So Completion is being familiar with both sexes and Enlightenment is...?" Sheppard asks.
"Enlightenment is that harmony within one self that lets one meet another mind without fracturing," Hira explains.
Teyla's first thought is that this is singularly unhelpful. At the same time, Completion finally makes sense. Like the bantos sticks, it is something that cannot be taught with mere words. Experience is necessary to know. The revelation always lies within the learner. The teacher can only show the student to the path. Teyla does not agree this twofold understanding should come about as it does on Hermea. But duty to one's people - yes. That she agrees with. As she does regarding the quest to know oneself and know others.
Selh pats Sheppard's arm again. "I have no doubt you will all adapt magnificently to the Gestalt. And be able to generate the energy required for the cloak."
"Yeah...." Sheppard's grin is strained, but Teyla agrees with Selh: If there is anything the Earthers have proven to be, it is adaptable. When they want to be. Otherwise, they are stubborn as rocks.
She gives everyone at the table a smile. "Indeed. As someone who has lived among Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay's people, they do seem to embody one of their sayings: 'Necessity is the mother of invention.'"
Sheppard's eyebrow goes up while the Hermeans all nod. Ronon grunts. Rodney grumbles, "I thought that was 'desperation' here in Pegasus."
Ronon swats the back of his head lightly. Rodney just grins at her, unruffled.
And Sheppard gulps down more wine. Teyla wishes, irrationally and not for the first time, for a leash. Or three. Gags, too, perhaps.
Conversation drifts to other subjects after that. Ronon steals some sort of sweet, jelly-like dessert, bright blue with gold flecks, from Rodney's plate. Selh and Hira talk about their grandchildren and their worries if Hermea rejoins the galaxy. Will they go offworld? Will they be in danger if they do? It will be difficult.
It will be. Of course, this just means they have arrived back in the Pegasus galaxy, Teyla thinks. She does sympathize. The urge to cage their children to keep them safe is one the Athosians know, though they've never been able to truly safeguard anyone from the Wraith. But if they could? They might very well have made the same decisions the Hermeans made.
Now Ronon is definitely flirting with Rodney and Gean. Teyla tries to kick Ronon under the table, but she is sitting too far away - across, yet not close. And Gean is flirting back. Frankly, Teyla wishes to to kick all of them at this point.
"You will stay the night?" Selh asks over dessert.
"It is a long walk back to the city center and then your spacecraft," Gean says. He gives Ronon a sidelong look, clearly hinting that they should stay and spend more time together.
"You must," Hira adds. "We have room."
"Um," Sheppard says, eloquent as ever. Teyla feels a spike of annoyance. A more definite answer - she would have preferred that.
"What kind of beds do you have? The damage my back has suffered since we came to Atlantis is going to leave me crippled, you know."
"Our beds can be adjusted to fit any need."
Rodney beams. His face is shining, not just from the liquor consumed. "We're staying." He lifts his wine glass. "To a civilized world."
Ronon glances at him, and nods as serenely as she can still manage, considering exactly how many glasses of wine she's consumed. "I'm good," she says, grinning.
Teyla wants to counter that Ronon most definitely isn't good; Ronon is being infuriating, in Teyla's opinion.
"And there may still be pockets of...unrest," Selh finishes. She seems more genuinely concerned than Gean...and mentions a far more genuine threat. It would not be pleasant to encounter any more dissenters in the streets. Hermea is probably the friendliest world they have visited, but they are still foreigners here. An incident like the one earlier, without witnesses to testify to their innocence in the matter, could have disastrous consequences. Teyla does not want to flee this world because of a brawl or misunderstanding. She wants her old body back at the end of this period.
Jari nods, too. "Stay. I can attest to Selh's hospitality."
A glance at Sheppard shows she is nearly persuaded, though her eyes are a little glazed. But if they did go back to the jumper, they would have to sleep in it. Sheppard won't fly while under the influence unless it is a life and death emergency. While that is certainly preferable to outdoor camping or even some of the villages they've visited, it cannot compare to the comfort of a real bed. Rodney is quite right about that. There is no need to check in with Atlantis until the next day - the mission is open ended, since they had no idea how long Rodney's 'path to Enlightenment' might take.
"Come morning, we can call for a hover taxi," Selh offers, smiling at Teyla and Sheppard, whom they have obviously recognised as the reluctant ones.
"Well," Teyla says, "I assume this is the best solution, and we thank you for your kind offer." Only an obscene amount of concentration can keep the sour undertone out of her voice. But it isn't the Hermeans who have caused that but Teyla's own team mates.
All of whom are idiots. All of whom are blinking sleepily at the Hermeans, whose smiles are indulgent, and a little drunk, too. None of the Hermeans held back on the wine either. This was one of the reasons Teyla did not intercept the team's drinking.
Sheppard looks to Teyla, then the rest of the team. Her eyes aren't quite focusing. "Okay." Her gaze lands on Rodney and Ronon, then skitters away.
"Do you need separate rooms...?" Selh is trying to be delicate.
"Yes." Teyla smiles to take the sting out of the word. "Of course, only if you have them available."
"Yeah, no problem otherwise. We usually bunk two to a room offworld," Sheppard says carefully, glancing at Teyla.
Selh nods. "Ah."
Teyla has to agree as far as safety is concerned. Hermea doesn't offer much in the way of threat, but they are used to being able to hear each other breathe in the night. It is comforting on a strange world and Hermea, pleasant as it is, is still strange to them.
Hira rises. "Give me a few moments and I'll have rooms ready for all you. Jari, you and Gean too. You must stay."
Jari just grins and leans back. "Won't say no."
Gean gives his assent as well.
"You know, I think I'll stick with Ronon tonight," Rodney declares.
Teyla sees Sheppard flinch. Gean, too, turns his head at that, sends a long, vaguely disappointed look at Ronon. She closes her eyes for a moment. When did life become so complicated? Ah, yes: When they were all changed into a different sex. Or perhaps when then Major Sheppard smiled at her that first night the Earthers came to Athos, when Atlantis and the Ancestors became something more than myth.
"The rooms are ready," Hira says a moment later, from the arch at the side of the dining room.
"Thanks," Sheppard says. She stands up and sways, grabbing the back of her chair to steady herself.
"What's the matter, Colonel?" Rodney says, "Can't hold your liquor? Honestly, no one even spiked it with a roofie this time."
Sheppard freezes, face going blank.
Teyla has risen before she knows it, steadying the colonel with a hand on her elbow. "Rodney!" she snaps.
Even Ronon seems unhappy at that. Rodney has the saving grace to flush and look away. The Hermeans look taken back.
"I just meant, I - ah, forget it." Rodney glances at the floor, cheeks flushed from more than alcohol. "Please. Forget it."
"Sure," Sheppard says. Slow, quiet, but Teyla doubts Sheppard will forget it.
Rodney swallows visibly. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he mutters, dejectedly, but Teyla does not feel the usual urge to cheer him up. Far from that.
Ronon seems to sober a little, but she is still standing next to Rodney, has not moved away. She does look up, though, eyes soft. "Sheppard. Need help?"
Sheppard looks at them, then down to Teyla's hand on her arm, as light as a touch can be. Sheppard's body is warm next to Teyla's; a fact underlined when she leans forward to mumble, somewhere in the vicinity of Teyla's ear, "Thanks."
"I've got it." Teyla says, her voice a little more forceful than intended.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Sheppard nods at Ronon. "Just think maybe I need to get some rest."
Teyla stays at her side, but Sheppard walks carefully behind Hira until they reach the room they'll share. There's only one bed, but it's more than big enough for both of them. Ronon and Rodney pass the open door, heads together. Sheppard follows them with her eyes, then slumps down to sit on the bed, right next to where Hira has kindly laid out loose pants and shirts for sleeping. The urge to touch her is almost overwhelming. Teyla clenches a fist and breathes out slowly. It's just - the body. The situation. Sheppard's distress -
No.
It isn't all the body. Sheppard - John - is Teyla's friend. There is nothing wrong with wishing to provide a friend the comfort of a touch. She sits down, next to her. Carefully. Sheppard slumps against Teyla's shoulder immediately.
"Teyla," she says, quietly, somewhat muffled by the fabric of Teyla's shirt. "I keep screwing up," she whispers.
Her heart clenches, painfully. "No," she says, then louder, "No, you don't.
"Yes, I do. I shouldn't have slept with Rodney. And then, on Xa...."
"You did what you thought was right in those situations." Teyla answers. She is not sure she speaks the truth, but she knows she speaks what Sheppard needs to hear.
"Guess my decision-making sucks, then, because it's all a mess."
"John," Teyla says, oddly stricken.
"Teyla." Warm arms slip around her waist. Sheppard lifts her head, then, stares at her seriously, with intent, for a long moment.
It would be so easy to pull Sheppard just a little closer and kiss her. Teyla's mouth is dry. But Sheppard's eyes are blurry with wine and regret already. Much as Teyla would like to tell herself she doesn't want to - she does - it would be a disservice to Sheppard.
By mutual, silent accord, they both pull away. It is a choice they've made before.
"I really need some sleep, what about you?" Sheppard says, moving away entirely.
"Yes, that would be wise," Teyla answers.
"And you're always wise," Sheppard murmurs.
"No," Teyla admits, honestly. "But I try."
Sheppard smiles her crooked grin at that. "Trying's always good," she says. "That's what I'm doing too."
She gets up, without help, if with effort, and manages to change into the sleep-wear on the bed. Teyla turns away when her long fingers fumble with the closures; this is not a task where she can aid the colonel. She occupies herself doing the same and not looking. When she turns, wearing Selh and Hira's clothes yet again, Sheppard is already working the covers back. They lie on the bed, a decorous space between them.
It lasts a few moments, then Sheppard is curling into Teyla's side. "Hey. You mind?"
Teyla freezes, knows Sheppard would never do this if she weren't still mostly drunk. "No," she whispers, and it is almost true. But it feels good to Teyla, too; there has been no one to hold in her life for too long. Slowly, she lifts her arm, turns her head a little. And pulls Sheppard closer, until her head rests on Teyla's shoulder again.
Sheppard is warm, and shockingly soft. For a moment, there is the jolt of dissonance - female body, John Sheppard - but it fades as quickly as it came, and all is left is her friend.
~*~
Part 18
Part 19
~*~
"...so incredibly, incredibly sorry," Selh says. She's pacing her living room, in one of the mushroom houses Teyla has noted, a cluster of domes neatly fitted into a hillside, shaded by several old growth trees. Selh moves from the window front to the arch of the doorway, her gaze flickering over the team with worry and regret.
For the eighth time now. Teyla has been counting since Selh started apologizing - once they were in the hover car the police offered, on their way to her home. She presses the cool pack against her brow and gives the woman a reassuring smile. "It is all right." The mark on her forehead is barely a bruise. The pain is already subsiding, as is the ache in her ankle where the edge of the one boy's sandal hit her just below the joint. It helps that Teyla knows the boy is very, very sorry for his misstep.
"Yeah, don't beat yourself up over it," Sheppard nods, amiably but without taking her eyes off the small mirror she had in her kit, cleaning the cut on her chin. Her hair is even more tousled than before, and there are dirt-streaks on her cheek, collarbone, and running down the side of her body where she tripped and hit the pavement during the commotion. She's perched on the edge of a bright orange couch.
"Someone else already tried that." Rodney looks remarkably unharmed, except for his torn jacket, which is probably beyond repair. From the twisted expression on his face, one would think him mortally wounded, though. "Of all the troubles I fully well expected to be dragged into on this planet, a riot wasn't even on the short list; never mind that it's a very long short list." He's still on his feet, working off adrenaline with his hand gestures and complaints, "Really, I should've known my ordeal wouldn't be over with Farl's psychological exercises - not the ones about comprehension and basic concepts, which were ridiculous; a well-trained rhesus monkey could have done them. Of course -" a breathless little laugh, discomfort shining through, "the others were - actually, I would prefer not to talk about them, seeing as they were, um, quite personal."
And he does close his mouth again, almost flustered. Teyla knows she is staring, but it is so unusual for Rodney to shut up when it comes to scientific processes, especially any that offer power generation beyond their wildest dreams. Teyla had known the Enlightenment lessons with Farl had caused Rodney some measure of distress, as her earlier efforts to learn about them from Rodney had been unsuccessful - Rodney had merely mumbled a few words about "action potential" and "cognitive restructuring" before deliberately stepping away from Teyla - but she hadn't quite expected him to refuse to elaborate at all. Curious, and not particularly heartening.
A cough from the doorway. Selh's partner, Hira, is framed by light filtering in from the corridor. He is almost as tall as Selh but broader, with a thoughtful, deeply-lined face and a shock of white hair. A man Teyla liked immediately on sight, he possesses the typical Hermean serenity. "I'm sorry that our welcome fell a little short when you arrived - and for the attack, of course."
"Wasn't much of an attack." Ronon shrugs. "We're fine." She's barely glanced at the scratches on her arm, tolerating Selh's ointment spray but shrugging off anything beyond a couple of adhesive bits of bandage. Teyla notes with surprise that they match Ronon's skin color perfectly, something she's never seen with the band-aids the Earthers use. "You come to tell us about dinner?"
A startled laugh from Hira. "Well, yes. It was almost done when you arrived, but I assumed you'd want to rest a moment, or possibly, after this incident, leave immediately. That would be -"
"Completely unnecessary, and a waste of what I am hoping is good food." Rodney waves an impatient hand at Hira. "Our team has seen much worse, my friend. This doesn't even faze us."
Teyla feels her eyebrow rise of its own volition. Sheppard slants Rodney a Look Who's Talking glance before nodding at Hira. "What Rodney means is, we're okay, and we'd love to have dinner with you." The smile does not quite reach her eyes, though. "Didn't you say the others would be coming as well?"
Hira glances at Selh, whose fingers are tapping the comm device set into what is obviously a desk sitting by a round window. "Yes, Jari and Gean will be here in a little while; their arrival has been delayed due to the incident."
"So good to see political euphemisms are alive and well in the Pegasus galaxy as well." Rodney tugs unhappily at his jacket.
Teyla glances quickly in Selh's direction, but she does not seem angered, merely abashed. No, the Hermeans did not expect any of this to happen, and are trying to make amends.
"If I may -" Hira looks from Rodney to the rest of the group, "Even if nothing serious has happened, your clothing seems, uh, a little impaired."
Sheppard blinks and stares down at herself a little sadly, fingering the hem of her sooty jacket between thumb and forefinger. "Nah, it's nothing."
"Please." Selh, nodding to Hira. "Until Gean and Jari arrive, why don't you have a look in our closet and take whatever you need?" A frown mars her features. "Actually, after today's events, I would suggest all of you don our kind of dress: you will have to return to your ship, and while we can find a safe and effective means of transportation for you, I would vastly prefer not to smuggle you out of my house as if you were - something besides honored guests of this planet."
Not an appealing thought to Teyla either.
"Oh. Yes, yes, that's quite obvious - I mean - if you really don't mind, which is probably the case, since you offered in the first place?" Rodney babbles.
Ronon shrugs and agrees laconically. Torn up clothes are low on Ronon's list of priorities. "Wouldn't mind a look."
Sheppard's still fingering her jacket and finally nods. "Yeah, well, okay. Why not?"
Why is she not surprised? Teyla suppresses a sigh and follows Selh's and the others' lead into what is obviously a chamber designated to storing clothing. A lot of clothing. Teyla is curious. Athosians can generally keep everything they wear in a single trunk. Selh and Hira have an entire room devoted to storage - a large room. "Selh? I believe I understand why your people would keep a variety of clothing on hand, but why in so many different sizes?"
Returning home has been kind to Selh; once again, she has found her footing. "Hira and I not only have four children, we also have eleven grandchildren and two great-granddaughters by now. Kids, they outgrow clothes so fast...and they never want to clean out their old bedrooms."
When Teyla turns, Ronon is grinning, eyes soft, voice even more so. "My grandmother used to say that, too. Well, complained."
Selh smiles. "House rules are if they leave it here, we can use it too, as we please."
Selh leaves them again, after inviting them to take whatever they happen to like. Teyla does not relish the thought of wearing a stranger's clothes, and changing into Hermean garb is bound to make her feel more vulnerable. The Lantean uniform she is fine with by now, but this? They have so little of their people with them she does not like to give up even something as trivial as clothing. She moves over to Ronon and punches her lightly in the side, keeping her voice low. "You, Ronon Dex. Why did you agree to this?"
Not even a flicker of surprise; Ronon glances down at Teyla's fist as if it were an insect. "Thought we might find out more about Selh. Now that we're here, we might as well."
Rodney laughs at that, sudden enough to make Sheppard let go of the tunic she was poking. "Yes, yes, of course. Nice try, Ronon. Just go ahead and own up to the fact that you're one hundred percent girl!"
To Teyla's amazement, Ronon doesn't seem offended. She just grins like a crazy person and shoulders Rodney to the side, an action that makes Rodney grunt and mutter - Teyla suspects it is not because he's hurt but because it takes Ronon no effort at all. When Teyla glances back at Sheppard, however, the colonel's knuckles are white, the lines around her eyes more prominent. She has turned away from the coat rack, lips pressed together.
She steps closer, lays a hand on Sheppard's arm. "Colonel?"
She looks down at Teyla and nods. In the bright light of the clothes chamber, Teyla can see soft wrinkles below her eyes, wrinkles from smiling. The colonel isn't smiling now. "Yeah. Let's grab something and not -" Her voice trails off, but nothing more than a glance back is needed.
Ronon and Rodney are working their way through the racks of garments, Ronon lifting and inspecting each dress with a suspiciously amused expression and Rodney firing a steady stream of good-humored commentary masked as criticism.
"I agree." Teyla clears her throat. "Ronon? Rodney?"
"- fit for the Queen, or, well, some queen, anyway. What?"
Ronon just waits.
"Guys, we're thinking, just do it. Don't want to spend more time in a -" A brief moment of hesitation before Sheppard continues, "in here."
"Fine." Rodney huffs out a long-suffering sigh, peers at the clothes rack as if it were a particularly stubborn equation, and then grabs a pair of tight green pants and a light, bright shirt that seems to change color with every movement. "You don't mind?" He doesn't wait for their answer; just steps out of his torn uniform and squirms with a small grunt of effort into the Hermean garb, which, amazingly, seems to fit rather well. Teyla has seen - noticed, if she is honest - Rodney's blue zip-up shirts, but she thinks no pants of Rodney's at home will outline his legs, his back, and everything in between quite like this, though.
Why is she even thinking about this?
When Ronon makes a sound, Teyla turns to her, grateful at first, less grateful by the minute, for Ronon's facial expression makes pretty clear that she will not be outdone by McKay. After one long, measuring glance, Ronon reaches over Rodney's arm and snatches yet another dress - blue, frills and laces, and Ronon cannot be - no, she is serious: She's dropping her soiled shirt and pants and bending down to clumsily step into the flowing, glittery mass of fabric. Teyla cannot turn fast enough to fully avoid looking at skin, breasts - nipples - at impossibly long legs. There's a slight hitch of breath next to her proving Sheppard was not any quicker.
"Are you completely fashion-impaired?" Rodney's voice, booming, enough to make her twist her head and glance at the two of them. Rodney stops Ronon with a quick shake of his head. His fingers on Ronon's arms are almost gentle, though. An impatient Give Me That motion, and Ronon snorts but does hand him the dress. "Now, on your knees."
Ronon stares. So do Teyla and Sheppard, who has closed her mouth again, begins to mumble, "Uh, Rodney...?"
"Oh, come on. A little faith, here? She's too tall standing up!" To Ronon, who has shrugged and dropped to her knees with uncanny ease, "Now, lift your arms." Ronon does.
"No, I mean -" Sheppard's brow furrows in confusion, "why do you know about getting into dresses?" The shadow of her smirk when she drawls, "Have you been holding out on us?"
"Hah. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Amusement in Rodney's voice, and something oddly like triumph. "My mother - well, she wasn't always around, and Jeannie loved dresses." He rolls his eyes, but the glint in his eyes is a fond one, "We're talking loved them, the frillier and pinker, the better. I refused to touch them, of course -"
"Of course," Sheppard deadpans.
"- but she wouldn't stop screaming, and I simply couldn't concentrate on my work." Work? From the story, Teyla would have thought them both still very young, but there is no irony in Rodney's voice. It would explain a lot about him, she thinks, that even as a boy he was miffed not about being interrupted in play but in something he considered a vocation. "So, in the end, I stormed into her room, figured out how these things worked, and put Jeannie in whatever...glittering abomination she wanted at the moment."
During his explanations, Rodney has, careful hands belying his tale, managed to pull the dress over Ronon's head; if he smooths it out for perhaps a little too long, Teyla cannot blame him. Ronon's smile when she glances up at Rodney is surprised but fond. After he's fastened everything, Ronon stands up, slowly.
Sheppard steps a little closer to the two of them, hands on her hips, and drawls, "Rodney, if you wanted to play dress-up, all you had to do was ask."
Rodney's hands are still on the fabric of Ronon's dress. He turns his head, and his eyes widen - almost comically, if there were anything funny about this moment. There is not.
"Put in a requisition for a Barbie Doll." Sheppard says with an insouciant shrug. "The Daedalus won't notice the extra weight of a couple of cartons."
Teyla does not understand the reference, but it isn't necessary. Rodney's face tells everything: uncertainty, a flare of hurt, then annoyance. "Ha-ha. Ha. Your wit's so sharp I've got papercuts, Colonel. And I'm very much looking forward to helping you with one of these complicated Hermean shirts...oh no, wait, I'm not!"
"Rodney," Teyla says, hoping to forestall a sniping session. The tension between the colonel and Rodney has been rising since they arrived.
Sheppard shrugs as if their exchange meant nothing; she just bends her head, glances away, and grins, nowhere near easy. "I think I can handle dressing myself, McKay."
Rodney's expression is notably tighter now. "If so, why don't you get on with it? Dinner's waiting, and I can feel my blood sugar dropping."
"Food's a good idea," Ronon mumbles, voice neutral.
"It is." Teyla smiles, as soothing as she can. "Ronon, why don't you and Rodney go ahead, since you are already dressed? Make our excuses to Selh; we'll be just a moment."
"Gladly," Rodney snaps.
Sheppard stares after Rodney even as Ronon gives her a nod before following him out of the room. Then she shrugs again and snatches the first dark outfit in her size off of one of the racks - which turns out to be something shimmery in deep blue-black. Teyla is breathing a little easier now, but that does not mean she feels like suggesting to Sheppard that she should change her selection yet again, even though Teyla suspects the pants and skin-tight top may be half transparent in the right light.
Not wanting to make the same mistake, Teyla takes a few more moments to find clothing that won't do anything unexpected. Sheppard has skinned into the new clothes while Teyla's back was turned and is smoothing the fabric over her hips. "It's kind of slick," she murmurs uncertainly.
"It is okay, Colonel," Teyla assures her and turns back to dress herself. Pants loose enough to accommodate this still strange physique, tunic, also loose enough for comfort of movement, and purple has always been a favorite color. The pattern woven into the fabric is much subtler than most Herman fashion. Of course, most anything is.
Their boots are all lined up by the door, next to Selh and Hira's footwear and that of the other guests. The floor itself is smooth and warmer than Atlantis' under her bare feet. The Hermeans apparently prefer to go barefoot in private dwellings. Teyla approves. Sometimes Atlantis is just too regimented for comfort. No one ever seems relaxed there.
Sheppard is staring at the floor, or her feet, and wiggling long toes when Teyla finishes dressing and turns back. Her arms are folded again and her lower lip is just a trifle redder than usual, like she's been biting it. "Ready?" she asks, without looking up.
"I am ready, Colonel."
"Good, let's get this over with," Sheppard says, and strides out.
~*~
Hira smiles. "I chose to make some of our most popular dishes from the various lir; of course, you're most welcome to try everything and leave what isn't to your taste." They are sitting around Selh's and Hira's dinner table, which is bending under the weight of the plates, bowls, and pots - fragrant, and appetizing, indeed.
"Oh," Sheppard says, Charm The Natives mask firmly in place, "I'm sure it's all very tasty." Wide smile that shows even teeth. "We're not picky." And they aren't, the Lanteans. As a rule, anyway; Sheppard is very obviously glancing at Rodney when she says it.
Rodney does not notice. He is busy grinning at Ronon, who keeps tugging at the ribbons of her dress with an expression of supreme amusement. Teyla watches Sheppard watching Rodney just a few moments too long, the carefully schooled friendliness slipping and showing bewilderment before she recovers and, with mumbled thanks, accepts the bowl of tiny bread balls Selh is handing to her.
Teyla suspects it's not truly the ribbons that capture Rodney's attention but the way Ronon's dark blue dress is stretched tightly across her chest. Ronon never wears what the Earthers call a bra and Teyla suddenly wishes she would, for once: Hermean fabric tends to be thin and flow like water, outlining every curve. Teyla cannot help setting eyes on the round nubs of Ronon's nipples. Teyla usually has rather definite opinions about the Earthers' tendency to wear heavy, prudish fabric, but now she would welcome it. What looks striking and exotic on Selh or Jari feels jarring when it comes to Ronon and Sheppard, something Teyla was never meant to see - private, too private to bear. Teyla looks away but manages to put on a bright expression for Selh and Hira. "I would love to try a bit of everything. You seem a very enthusiastic cook, Hira."
He laughs at that, winks at Teyla. "Hope by the end of the dinner, you'll also consider me a good one."
Teyla knows what to say, but this man, this couple makes it possible to just smile and say, "We shall see about that."
"Wise, wise." Gean nods, and there's a flash of humor in his eyes, too. It's a first; he's seemed almost as agitated as Selh had been before they made it to her home. Teyla feels a pang of sympathy for these people, remade by new contact with people from across the stars. Just like the Athosians.
Rodney is making an effort towards manners and not talking with his mouth full for once, Teyla notes. That may be because he wants to impress Jari. The scientist arrived before their group limped in, displaying the proper level of horror regarding the riot. She's been smiling and flirting with Rodney since. He seems delighted; no wonder.
Gean arrived last, wearing a orange and yellow kilt over a green skinsuit that made Teyla's eyes water. It doesn't seem to bother Ronon, though. He's sitting next on the other side of Ronon, who is talking with him animatedly. Teyla is surprised. Mostly because - Ronon is talking.
Sheppard seems less delighted. Each time Rodney smiles back at Jari or leans forward and talks past Ronon, brushing shoulders with her, Sheppard's jaw tightens a little, and takes another sip of the drink that was served with their food. Teyla suspects it's to keep herself from snapping something unwise. Teyla frowns. The amber-colored liquid tastes fresh, like fruit and honey, but Teyla has known similar beverages. It is almost certainly far more alcoholic than it seems, and unfortunately, of all their team, Colonel Sheppard deals with alcohol least well.
She knows this from the time on PX-5345, where the grateful natives arranged a ceremonial festival after the team had, very unceremoniously, killed two crashed Wraith "haunting" the village. Luckily, Teyla's father taught her to hold her drink, and as the last conscious member of the team, she took only a small part in the Great Re-Enactment of the Slaying. Teyla remembers fondly how helpful the priestesses were. Together, they managed to get the feather-and-sticks costumes off the colonel, Rodney, and Ronon again, and the three of them off the wooden stage, before they came to. Teyla isn't sure any of them even remember anything after the fourth glass of nininc. To be truthful, her own memory is blurry after the seventh glass.
Amusing as the experience was, Teyla does not actually care for a repeat performance, in more than one way. So when Sheppard reaches for her glass again, Teyla coughs. Sheppard glances at her, then at her own outstretched hand. She grimaces, but nods and doesn't touch it.
Too bad Rodney and Ronon aren't as cooperative. Rodney's giggling at something Jari said while Ronon is swaying in her chair. In fact, Ronon seems to be well into her third glass. She also seems to be well into Gean now, judging from the way she leans over when he explains something in his earnest yet excited way.
"Did I mention, Jari showed me some of the physical equipment that goes into the cloak," Rodney says excitedly. His voice is slightly louder than normal. Not that Rodney isn't loud anyway, but Teyla recognizes the effect of the wine. Rodney likes to think he can drink, but he isn't much better at handling it than Colonel Sheppard.
"There's non-physical equipment going into the cloak?" Sheppard drawls - Teyla supposes more to needle Rodney than to ask the question itself.
"Of course," Selh comments, looking surprised.
"That's the purpose of Completion and Enlightenment," Jari says. She looks so sincere Teyla puts away any suspicion.
"Preparation," Hira says from the other side of the table. He seems quite complacent.
Selh smiles at him. "Hira has done twelve rotations." She sounds deeply proud of that.
"Rotations?" mumbles Sheppard, looking around the table in growing confusion; Teyla thinks she speaks for the whole team.
"One rotation means one period of service in the Gestalt." Hira bows his head, a humble gesture. "We are chosen randomly from the able populace, for a month each, but of course there are safeguards and opt-outs."
"What he isn't saying: He volunteered." Jari smirks. "Of course, with his partner getting a comfy government salary...."
"Like Akee?" Selh asks, pointedly.
Jari shrugs and grins, obviously ceding defeat. "Fine, fine. Akee's not exactly jumping up and down when it comes to the service - but only because she's keeping a pretty crazy schedule!" She glances at Selh's husband. "Hira, seriously, I know you've gone above and beyond the call of duty."
"Oh, come on." Hira gives her a smile and stands up, busies himself with helping Teyla to a bowl of small, gold-roasted nuts that smell heavenly. "As you say, I could, so I did. Did most of it once the kids were out of the house, after all."
Teyla takes a bite - they taste as good as their scent promised - and looks up again. "Selh already told us about your children. They are well and happy, I hope?"
Both of them beam, but it's Selh who answers, "Oh yes, they are. Of course, we don't see them often enough."
Hira nods. "It was pretty, shall we say, interesting around here when they still lived at home. Of course, now that Unai and Vael have children of their own, a lot of the old lovely chaos is back." He shakes his head as if to clear it. "But let me not bore you with parenting stories. I'm afraid I'll talk about the kids at any chance I get."
"No wonder." Selh smiles fondly at him. "You've lived through pretty much every moment with them when they were still babies and toddlers and schoolkids. I'm often sad I missed so much of that."
Teyla blinks. The thought is odd enough to warrant a question. "So you left your children with your husband and returned to work after they did not need to be fed by you any more?" It is, Teyla thinks, probably quite a sensible solution, though an unusual one.
"By me?" Surprise on Selh's face, and then a dawning understanding. "Oh, no. I didn't have the kids; Hira did."
If Teyla's smile slips and she turns to stare at Hira with an expression that is not admiration, not appreciation at all - she can't help either.
"You?" Sheppard drawls, staring at Hira with wide eyes.
The immediate answer is a puzzled look, but then Hira nods in understanding. "Sure. I'm fond of this sex, but back when we decided to have children - well, it was pre-election time, and Selh was busy supervising Kael Daan's campaign pretty much around the clock."
"I never knew!" Jari cuts in, with something akin to awe, "You were Daan's campaign manager? No wonder she became President." Teyla is still trying to process - Hira was mother to Selh and his children? For once she feels as out of depth as Sheppard. Birth has always seemed to be a women's secret, but here she is face with a man who knows it - more intimately even than Teyla, who has never had a child. She stabs a vegetable and chews it, rather than say anything, while the Hermeans speak of matters that mean little to Atlantis, merely the day to day of their lives.
Selh laughs. "I never knew you cared for politics, Jari."
"I don't. But I care for politicians - the good ones, anyway." An impish smile. "The ones that help boosting the research budget."
"So that's how you won this young lady's heart," Hira teases, looking at Selh, "I'd been wondering"
"Won her mind, more like." Gean smiles his serious little smile, and turns back to the team. "Now, we have tried to ease you into this dimension of the cloak." He clears his throat. "Our historical records tell of great unrest sweeping the nation when we first introduced Completion."
"Really?" Rodney asks. After today's events, the words "great unrest" and "sweeping" do not seem to sit well with him.
Gean nods, looks at Teyla with a look of honest regret. "Some could not take it, some would not."
That - Teyla frowns. Was that meant personally?
Sheppard licks her lips, stares at Gean, far from cheerful. "We're doing the best we can, Gean."
"Of course you are," Selh says, giving Gean a quieting look.
Ronon quirks an eyebrow; she doesn't look at Gean quite so fondly any more. She reaches across the table, takes another bite from the not-exactly-fish dish with yellow sauce. "So, what's the cloak have to do with Completion?"
It's Hira who answers. "Our cloak is wholly powered by a mental component. The kind of energy necessary for the cloak cannot be generated by one mind in Gestalt, or even ten. Instead, at any given point, we have one-thousand-and-one of us who've undergone Completion, combined."
"What, like merged?" Sheppard sounds vaguely horrified. Rodney just looks fascinated. Ronon chews. All in all, Teyla feels rather more sympathetic toward the colonel. Such an invasion of privacy is distasteful at best and terrifying at worst. To let strangers in your mind? It sounds unbearable.
Jari looks thoughtful. "We don't lose our identities, if that's what you meant - but in a lot of ways, that makes the process harder."
"If only." Gean nods quietly. "The fact that we are still ourselves yet more than that - it is an enormous strain."
"Only by achieving a special state of mind can one withstand the stress involved," Selh adds. "Completion and Enlightenment prepare us for that."
"Oh, of course." Rodney snaps his fingers, cheeks reddened from excitement. "We stand within each other."
Sheppard looks at him in disbelief. "You get this?"
Rodney blinks. "Well, in a very theoretical fashion, yes." It makes Sheppard reach for her glass and take a long swallow while Rodney continues, blithely, "Jari has shown me the generator module, after all, and Farl - well, I've already mentioned my feelings of abject humiliation." His cheeks redden, and he bends over his plate with a defiant little hunch.
"Sheppard." Ronon is looking at her, eyes kind. "You become someone else - inside, outside. You learn how the other half lives."
The colonel does not look convinced, or relieved. Teyla can empathize.
"Historically, when we began using the cloak," Hira says, "many people suffered breakdowns and were even rendered catatonic by service in the Gestalt."
"But you've solved that problem," Rodney states. A little more fearfully, "You did, right?"
Gean looks almost grim. "Eventually. Many minds were fractured before that."
Jari lets out a loud huff. "Cut down on the sad stories, guys! Yes, we did!"
"I still don't like the sound of that," Sheppard mutters.
Selh slants her a glance, puts a reassuring hand on Sheppard's arm. "It's true what she says - while the strain is still intense, we have calibrated the machinery in such a way that it is virtually safe."
"To answer your question, Rodney - indeed, we did manage," Hira adds. "In time, our studies revealed some fascinating truths. Those who were most flexible in their thinking dealt best with the Gestalt."
"Flexible thinking?" Sheppard, looking a little confused. "You mean smart like Rodney?"
Hira smiles. "Not exactly, though that surely is no hindrance. Among many scientific studies of their genetics and environments, it became apparent that those who dealt best with the gestalt were those who had either found true spirituality or who were functional bisexuals."
"Functional?" Sheppard's voice sounds a little faint.
"Functional, as in accepted and happy with their bisexuality." Jari smiles at her.
Sheppard nods at that, but Teyla can see that happiness is the farthest thing from Sheppard's mind. Teyla has observed it is not usually the most prominent feeling among the Earthers when it comes to non-conventional couples.
Gean lifts his index finger. "And that is the other side: Technology needed to be perfected, but we found that it helped best to train ourselves, our minds. Our souls, if you will." He gives Rodney a careful look, which shows insight on his part.
There is the hint of a sneer in the corner of Rodney's mouth at that mention. "Voodoo," Rodney mutters quietly.
"McKay," Sheppard says.
"Fine. Fine."
This is one of the instances, Teyla thinks, when it is a lucky occurrence that Rodney and Sheppard talk in their own slang so often. None of the Hermeans seem to care about Rodney's comment. As for speaking up, Teyla wishes she could contribute more, but like Sheppard, she thinks this revelation is hardly a positive one. She feels no desire whatsoever to join minds with the Hermeans or, indeed, anyone. Of course, they are human - can it be worse than looking inside the Wraith, inside that maelstrom of hunger and twisted thinking?
"So Completion is being familiar with both sexes and Enlightenment is...?" Sheppard asks.
"Enlightenment is that harmony within one self that lets one meet another mind without fracturing," Hira explains.
Teyla's first thought is that this is singularly unhelpful. At the same time, Completion finally makes sense. Like the bantos sticks, it is something that cannot be taught with mere words. Experience is necessary to know. The revelation always lies within the learner. The teacher can only show the student to the path. Teyla does not agree this twofold understanding should come about as it does on Hermea. But duty to one's people - yes. That she agrees with. As she does regarding the quest to know oneself and know others.
Selh pats Sheppard's arm again. "I have no doubt you will all adapt magnificently to the Gestalt. And be able to generate the energy required for the cloak."
"Yeah...." Sheppard's grin is strained, but Teyla agrees with Selh: If there is anything the Earthers have proven to be, it is adaptable. When they want to be. Otherwise, they are stubborn as rocks.
She gives everyone at the table a smile. "Indeed. As someone who has lived among Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay's people, they do seem to embody one of their sayings: 'Necessity is the mother of invention.'"
Sheppard's eyebrow goes up while the Hermeans all nod. Ronon grunts. Rodney grumbles, "I thought that was 'desperation' here in Pegasus."
Ronon swats the back of his head lightly. Rodney just grins at her, unruffled.
And Sheppard gulps down more wine. Teyla wishes, irrationally and not for the first time, for a leash. Or three. Gags, too, perhaps.
Conversation drifts to other subjects after that. Ronon steals some sort of sweet, jelly-like dessert, bright blue with gold flecks, from Rodney's plate. Selh and Hira talk about their grandchildren and their worries if Hermea rejoins the galaxy. Will they go offworld? Will they be in danger if they do? It will be difficult.
It will be. Of course, this just means they have arrived back in the Pegasus galaxy, Teyla thinks. She does sympathize. The urge to cage their children to keep them safe is one the Athosians know, though they've never been able to truly safeguard anyone from the Wraith. But if they could? They might very well have made the same decisions the Hermeans made.
Now Ronon is definitely flirting with Rodney and Gean. Teyla tries to kick Ronon under the table, but she is sitting too far away - across, yet not close. And Gean is flirting back. Frankly, Teyla wishes to to kick all of them at this point.
"You will stay the night?" Selh asks over dessert.
"It is a long walk back to the city center and then your spacecraft," Gean says. He gives Ronon a sidelong look, clearly hinting that they should stay and spend more time together.
"You must," Hira adds. "We have room."
"Um," Sheppard says, eloquent as ever. Teyla feels a spike of annoyance. A more definite answer - she would have preferred that.
"What kind of beds do you have? The damage my back has suffered since we came to Atlantis is going to leave me crippled, you know."
"Our beds can be adjusted to fit any need."
Rodney beams. His face is shining, not just from the liquor consumed. "We're staying." He lifts his wine glass. "To a civilized world."
Ronon glances at him, and nods as serenely as she can still manage, considering exactly how many glasses of wine she's consumed. "I'm good," she says, grinning.
Teyla wants to counter that Ronon most definitely isn't good; Ronon is being infuriating, in Teyla's opinion.
"And there may still be pockets of...unrest," Selh finishes. She seems more genuinely concerned than Gean...and mentions a far more genuine threat. It would not be pleasant to encounter any more dissenters in the streets. Hermea is probably the friendliest world they have visited, but they are still foreigners here. An incident like the one earlier, without witnesses to testify to their innocence in the matter, could have disastrous consequences. Teyla does not want to flee this world because of a brawl or misunderstanding. She wants her old body back at the end of this period.
Jari nods, too. "Stay. I can attest to Selh's hospitality."
A glance at Sheppard shows she is nearly persuaded, though her eyes are a little glazed. But if they did go back to the jumper, they would have to sleep in it. Sheppard won't fly while under the influence unless it is a life and death emergency. While that is certainly preferable to outdoor camping or even some of the villages they've visited, it cannot compare to the comfort of a real bed. Rodney is quite right about that. There is no need to check in with Atlantis until the next day - the mission is open ended, since they had no idea how long Rodney's 'path to Enlightenment' might take.
"Come morning, we can call for a hover taxi," Selh offers, smiling at Teyla and Sheppard, whom they have obviously recognised as the reluctant ones.
"Well," Teyla says, "I assume this is the best solution, and we thank you for your kind offer." Only an obscene amount of concentration can keep the sour undertone out of her voice. But it isn't the Hermeans who have caused that but Teyla's own team mates.
All of whom are idiots. All of whom are blinking sleepily at the Hermeans, whose smiles are indulgent, and a little drunk, too. None of the Hermeans held back on the wine either. This was one of the reasons Teyla did not intercept the team's drinking.
Sheppard looks to Teyla, then the rest of the team. Her eyes aren't quite focusing. "Okay." Her gaze lands on Rodney and Ronon, then skitters away.
"Do you need separate rooms...?" Selh is trying to be delicate.
"Yes." Teyla smiles to take the sting out of the word. "Of course, only if you have them available."
"Yeah, no problem otherwise. We usually bunk two to a room offworld," Sheppard says carefully, glancing at Teyla.
Selh nods. "Ah."
Teyla has to agree as far as safety is concerned. Hermea doesn't offer much in the way of threat, but they are used to being able to hear each other breathe in the night. It is comforting on a strange world and Hermea, pleasant as it is, is still strange to them.
Hira rises. "Give me a few moments and I'll have rooms ready for all you. Jari, you and Gean too. You must stay."
Jari just grins and leans back. "Won't say no."
Gean gives his assent as well.
"You know, I think I'll stick with Ronon tonight," Rodney declares.
Teyla sees Sheppard flinch. Gean, too, turns his head at that, sends a long, vaguely disappointed look at Ronon. She closes her eyes for a moment. When did life become so complicated? Ah, yes: When they were all changed into a different sex. Or perhaps when then Major Sheppard smiled at her that first night the Earthers came to Athos, when Atlantis and the Ancestors became something more than myth.
"The rooms are ready," Hira says a moment later, from the arch at the side of the dining room.
"Thanks," Sheppard says. She stands up and sways, grabbing the back of her chair to steady herself.
"What's the matter, Colonel?" Rodney says, "Can't hold your liquor? Honestly, no one even spiked it with a roofie this time."
Sheppard freezes, face going blank.
Teyla has risen before she knows it, steadying the colonel with a hand on her elbow. "Rodney!" she snaps.
Even Ronon seems unhappy at that. Rodney has the saving grace to flush and look away. The Hermeans look taken back.
"I just meant, I - ah, forget it." Rodney glances at the floor, cheeks flushed from more than alcohol. "Please. Forget it."
"Sure," Sheppard says. Slow, quiet, but Teyla doubts Sheppard will forget it.
Rodney swallows visibly. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he mutters, dejectedly, but Teyla does not feel the usual urge to cheer him up. Far from that.
Ronon seems to sober a little, but she is still standing next to Rodney, has not moved away. She does look up, though, eyes soft. "Sheppard. Need help?"
Sheppard looks at them, then down to Teyla's hand on her arm, as light as a touch can be. Sheppard's body is warm next to Teyla's; a fact underlined when she leans forward to mumble, somewhere in the vicinity of Teyla's ear, "Thanks."
"I've got it." Teyla says, her voice a little more forceful than intended.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Sheppard nods at Ronon. "Just think maybe I need to get some rest."
Teyla stays at her side, but Sheppard walks carefully behind Hira until they reach the room they'll share. There's only one bed, but it's more than big enough for both of them. Ronon and Rodney pass the open door, heads together. Sheppard follows them with her eyes, then slumps down to sit on the bed, right next to where Hira has kindly laid out loose pants and shirts for sleeping. The urge to touch her is almost overwhelming. Teyla clenches a fist and breathes out slowly. It's just - the body. The situation. Sheppard's distress -
No.
It isn't all the body. Sheppard - John - is Teyla's friend. There is nothing wrong with wishing to provide a friend the comfort of a touch. She sits down, next to her. Carefully. Sheppard slumps against Teyla's shoulder immediately.
"Teyla," she says, quietly, somewhat muffled by the fabric of Teyla's shirt. "I keep screwing up," she whispers.
Her heart clenches, painfully. "No," she says, then louder, "No, you don't.
"Yes, I do. I shouldn't have slept with Rodney. And then, on Xa...."
"You did what you thought was right in those situations." Teyla answers. She is not sure she speaks the truth, but she knows she speaks what Sheppard needs to hear.
"Guess my decision-making sucks, then, because it's all a mess."
"John," Teyla says, oddly stricken.
"Teyla." Warm arms slip around her waist. Sheppard lifts her head, then, stares at her seriously, with intent, for a long moment.
It would be so easy to pull Sheppard just a little closer and kiss her. Teyla's mouth is dry. But Sheppard's eyes are blurry with wine and regret already. Much as Teyla would like to tell herself she doesn't want to - she does - it would be a disservice to Sheppard.
By mutual, silent accord, they both pull away. It is a choice they've made before.
"I really need some sleep, what about you?" Sheppard says, moving away entirely.
"Yes, that would be wise," Teyla answers.
"And you're always wise," Sheppard murmurs.
"No," Teyla admits, honestly. "But I try."
Sheppard smiles her crooked grin at that. "Trying's always good," she says. "That's what I'm doing too."
She gets up, without help, if with effort, and manages to change into the sleep-wear on the bed. Teyla turns away when her long fingers fumble with the closures; this is not a task where she can aid the colonel. She occupies herself doing the same and not looking. When she turns, wearing Selh and Hira's clothes yet again, Sheppard is already working the covers back. They lie on the bed, a decorous space between them.
It lasts a few moments, then Sheppard is curling into Teyla's side. "Hey. You mind?"
Teyla freezes, knows Sheppard would never do this if she weren't still mostly drunk. "No," she whispers, and it is almost true. But it feels good to Teyla, too; there has been no one to hold in her life for too long. Slowly, she lifts her arm, turns her head a little. And pulls Sheppard closer, until her head rests on Teyla's shoulder again.
Sheppard is warm, and shockingly soft. For a moment, there is the jolt of dissonance - female body, John Sheppard - but it fades as quickly as it came, and all is left is her friend.
~*~