fic: inverse topography
rating: M for Makeouts
words: ~1000
pairings: Teyla/Kate, Teyla/Kannan, Teyla/Jennifer, John/Rodney
spoilers: for the general Teyla plot in S4, and big ones for Doppelganger
notes: this fic is for the_drifter, who asked for Teyla-fic to the tune of Neko Case's Fox Confessor Brings the Flood.
inverse topography
There's a place that Teyla kisses, on Kate's shoulder, just below the collarbone, where her light tan gives way to freckles; lower, the freckled skin curves into the swell of her breast, flushes to the pink of her nipple. Teyla kisses that place.
"I love you," Kate says sometimes (only occasionally). Teyla still isn't sure what those words mean to the Earthers, doesn't know what to make of the seriousness, the anxiety, that radiates from Kate's furrowed brow and downturning mouth in those moments. So sometimes (only occasionally) Teyla draws Kate's sweat-slick, exhausted body toward her own, presses their skin together amid the damp sheets, breathes in deeply and presses her forehead against Kate's, hard, for a long time.
A week before Kate is killed, as the bright morning sun floods their shared bed, Teyla kisses Kate and says, "I think I may be pregnant."
Kate smiles the small smile that Teyla used to see all the time, when Kate used to be her psychologist. Then she runs her palm slowly down Teyla's bicep. "Is it mine?"
Teyla can't hold back a grin; the idea that she might be making life right now is astonishing, incredible. She rubs her thigh against Kate's, just to feel the contact of her warm skin, her lush body. "Yours and Kannan's," she says. "I have been faithful to you both."
That surprises a laugh out of Kate. "I really need to meet this boyfriend of yours," she says, with an uncharacteristic shyness.
"Yes," Teyla says. "He has said the same of you. You should meet."
-
There's a place that Teyla kisses, on Kannan's neck, just below his pointed chin, where his skin is soft and yielding. As she kisses, he shivers, sometimes laughs (ticklishly), but his breath always comes faster. Teyla kisses that place.
Kannan weaves in his spare time, to distract his mind from the day to day crises. His hands are thick and brown and fly with confidence among reeds, or hempen-cord, or leather. It is a confidence that he has never exhibited while speaking to the council, though Teyla has never made this comparison in Kannan's hearing.
A week before Kannan goes missing (but months before he is killed), Teyla finds the time, finally, to leave Atlantis and see him. She finds him sitting quietly, braiding together something that might eventually be a basket.
Teyla has nothing to do with her own hands, here, in this tent that is built like the tents she lived in her whole life, in this camp that smells of the foods she's known from childhood.
Kannan notices her empty hands and puts down his weaving. "Are you well?" he asks.
"No," Teyla says finally, barely able to make her voice work. "I am not."
When she tells him about Kate, about the dream-killer, he presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes in reflected grief. It feels strange, sweaty and uncomfortable, but she holds the position anyway, wanting the smell of his body and the feel of his warm breath on her cheek.
Eventually, she pulls her face away and holds his face in her hands. They kiss softly, slowly. Teyla wonders again if she might be carrying a child.
When the kiss breaks, she says, "I love you," in the same serious tone that Kate used to use for those words. Kannan looks puzzled, but kisses her again, lightly.
-
Teyla watches as John pretends to find quarters in Kanya's ear; the boy laughs, delighted, as the worthless coins rain from John's fingers and into Kanya's tiny, chubby palms. Some spill off and bless the surface of the couch beneath them with silver.
"He's good with him," Jennifer says, coming up behind her. They're standing close together, but not touching. Teyla turns to look at her, to take in her familiar smile and soft, kind eyes.
"The boy has a surfeit of fathers, I am afraid," Teyla sighs. As if answering her words, Rodney comes in the far door to the lounge and walks, as is his custom, directly to John, greeting him with words too quiet for Teyla or Jennifer to hear from their position on the other side of the room.
"I hear that Ronon's already teaching him to shoot," Jennifer says, and perhaps Teyla is imagining it, but it seems that she moves closer to press their shoulders together warmly. It's been years since Teyla has felt it, but she recognizes immediately the slow nervous flip that her stomach does as Jennifer gets just a little too close.
"He is trying," Teyla laughs. "Kanya's hands are still very small, though." Over on the couch in front of the television, Rodney is feigning good-natured astonishment as Kanya holds up his treasure for Rodney's inspection. As if on impulse, Rodney ruffles the boy's hair and then bends, suddenly, pressing a fast kiss to his forehead. Kanya giggles.
John says something then, and Teyla has known them both for long enough that she doesn't need to hear the teasing remark, whatever it is. She knows the tilt of John's mouth, the way Rodney rolls his eyes, the way John's smile is secretly genuine and Rodney's blush is secretly pleased.
She turns to Jennifer, then, shifting her fingers just enough that her knuckles brush the back of Jennifer's hand. It's small and soft-looking and white, but Jennifer has been healing with it for years, Teyla knows; Jennifer has been healing Teyla's body with her hands for years now.
"They are babysitting for me tonight," she explains, nodding her head at Rodney and John over on the sofa.
"Oh?" Jennifer says, and Teyla is amazed that a woman who has now seen so much still blushes in the way that she did when they first met.
Teyla nods. "Perhaps you would like to share a meal together?"
Jennifer smiles with that uncomplicated delight that sometimes radiates out of her, suddenly, surprisingly. There's a place, where her smile dimples her cheek, that Teyla would like very much to kiss.
"I'd like that," Jennifer says. Teyla takes her hand.
-
-
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words: ~1000
pairings: Teyla/Kate, Teyla/Kannan, Teyla/Jennifer, John/Rodney
spoilers: for the general Teyla plot in S4, and big ones for Doppelganger
notes: this fic is for the_drifter, who asked for Teyla-fic to the tune of Neko Case's Fox Confessor Brings the Flood.
inverse topography
There's a place that Teyla kisses, on Kate's shoulder, just below the collarbone, where her light tan gives way to freckles; lower, the freckled skin curves into the swell of her breast, flushes to the pink of her nipple. Teyla kisses that place.
"I love you," Kate says sometimes (only occasionally). Teyla still isn't sure what those words mean to the Earthers, doesn't know what to make of the seriousness, the anxiety, that radiates from Kate's furrowed brow and downturning mouth in those moments. So sometimes (only occasionally) Teyla draws Kate's sweat-slick, exhausted body toward her own, presses their skin together amid the damp sheets, breathes in deeply and presses her forehead against Kate's, hard, for a long time.
A week before Kate is killed, as the bright morning sun floods their shared bed, Teyla kisses Kate and says, "I think I may be pregnant."
Kate smiles the small smile that Teyla used to see all the time, when Kate used to be her psychologist. Then she runs her palm slowly down Teyla's bicep. "Is it mine?"
Teyla can't hold back a grin; the idea that she might be making life right now is astonishing, incredible. She rubs her thigh against Kate's, just to feel the contact of her warm skin, her lush body. "Yours and Kannan's," she says. "I have been faithful to you both."
That surprises a laugh out of Kate. "I really need to meet this boyfriend of yours," she says, with an uncharacteristic shyness.
"Yes," Teyla says. "He has said the same of you. You should meet."
-
There's a place that Teyla kisses, on Kannan's neck, just below his pointed chin, where his skin is soft and yielding. As she kisses, he shivers, sometimes laughs (ticklishly), but his breath always comes faster. Teyla kisses that place.
Kannan weaves in his spare time, to distract his mind from the day to day crises. His hands are thick and brown and fly with confidence among reeds, or hempen-cord, or leather. It is a confidence that he has never exhibited while speaking to the council, though Teyla has never made this comparison in Kannan's hearing.
A week before Kannan goes missing (but months before he is killed), Teyla finds the time, finally, to leave Atlantis and see him. She finds him sitting quietly, braiding together something that might eventually be a basket.
Teyla has nothing to do with her own hands, here, in this tent that is built like the tents she lived in her whole life, in this camp that smells of the foods she's known from childhood.
Kannan notices her empty hands and puts down his weaving. "Are you well?" he asks.
"No," Teyla says finally, barely able to make her voice work. "I am not."
When she tells him about Kate, about the dream-killer, he presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes in reflected grief. It feels strange, sweaty and uncomfortable, but she holds the position anyway, wanting the smell of his body and the feel of his warm breath on her cheek.
Eventually, she pulls her face away and holds his face in her hands. They kiss softly, slowly. Teyla wonders again if she might be carrying a child.
When the kiss breaks, she says, "I love you," in the same serious tone that Kate used to use for those words. Kannan looks puzzled, but kisses her again, lightly.
-
Teyla watches as John pretends to find quarters in Kanya's ear; the boy laughs, delighted, as the worthless coins rain from John's fingers and into Kanya's tiny, chubby palms. Some spill off and bless the surface of the couch beneath them with silver.
"He's good with him," Jennifer says, coming up behind her. They're standing close together, but not touching. Teyla turns to look at her, to take in her familiar smile and soft, kind eyes.
"The boy has a surfeit of fathers, I am afraid," Teyla sighs. As if answering her words, Rodney comes in the far door to the lounge and walks, as is his custom, directly to John, greeting him with words too quiet for Teyla or Jennifer to hear from their position on the other side of the room.
"I hear that Ronon's already teaching him to shoot," Jennifer says, and perhaps Teyla is imagining it, but it seems that she moves closer to press their shoulders together warmly. It's been years since Teyla has felt it, but she recognizes immediately the slow nervous flip that her stomach does as Jennifer gets just a little too close.
"He is trying," Teyla laughs. "Kanya's hands are still very small, though." Over on the couch in front of the television, Rodney is feigning good-natured astonishment as Kanya holds up his treasure for Rodney's inspection. As if on impulse, Rodney ruffles the boy's hair and then bends, suddenly, pressing a fast kiss to his forehead. Kanya giggles.
John says something then, and Teyla has known them both for long enough that she doesn't need to hear the teasing remark, whatever it is. She knows the tilt of John's mouth, the way Rodney rolls his eyes, the way John's smile is secretly genuine and Rodney's blush is secretly pleased.
She turns to Jennifer, then, shifting her fingers just enough that her knuckles brush the back of Jennifer's hand. It's small and soft-looking and white, but Jennifer has been healing with it for years, Teyla knows; Jennifer has been healing Teyla's body with her hands for years now.
"They are babysitting for me tonight," she explains, nodding her head at Rodney and John over on the sofa.
"Oh?" Jennifer says, and Teyla is amazed that a woman who has now seen so much still blushes in the way that she did when they first met.
Teyla nods. "Perhaps you would like to share a meal together?"
Jennifer smiles with that uncomplicated delight that sometimes radiates out of her, suddenly, surprisingly. There's a place, where her smile dimples her cheek, that Teyla would like very much to kiss.
"I'd like that," Jennifer says. Teyla takes her hand.
-
-
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