Fic: Battle and Victory [SGA, Teyla/Kate, R]

[vanitashaze]

Writing characters, you realize things you never knew about them before. For me, wrestling this one down? My Teyla is fierce!

I was never much into Teyla/Kate, but I read some of thingswithwings' stuff and was intrigued. Not to mention, the canon - though I don't think we feel the full impact of Kate on Teyla's life until her absence, it's obvious that she means something to Teyla, as she reacts more strongly to her death than to any number of dead friends and coworkers during her stay on Atlantis. I might write more of this pairing; I don't know. As I see it, their relationship could either go very badly or very well, because like every psychologist I know, Kate's bound to be good at both waffle and diagnosing others' problems, and I think it was seperis who said, Teyla's not in touch with her own emotions as much as sympathetic to the emotions of others. And unlike McKay and Sheppard, they don't have an absence of tact as much as far too much of it. So they could either be functional and communicative, or vastly problematic, as they're so caught up in that careful diplomacy that neither is sure what exactly is real, never mind how to express it. I chose to portray the latter choice.

Housekeeping time: Title from the Nancy Elizabeth song, which for some reason I think fits Teyla to a T, even though it really doesn't. Also, this is for the "First Times" spot on my cliche_bingo card. The Quick Bird on Hot Sand, I believe, came from Icarus.



BATTLE AND VICTORY
SGA; R. Teyla/Kate.

Rodney is teaching her how to use a computer. "Press this," he says, "press this"; seventy-six keys and twenty-four letters and a multitude of symbols she does not understand the purpose of, which he says no one from Earth really does, but uses anyways. The mouse, as it is apparently called, is giving her problems. She tries to move it as he does, with intent, but can only manage short spasmodic bursts, and often unintentionally drags the pictures on her screen - icons, he says - to where they are not supposed to be, or clicks twice when she should not, though she is working on that. So far she has learned how to save, open a writing program, search for files, scroll down the page, watch movies, send an e-mail, turn off the computer, turn on the computer, stall the computer as it tries to do this all at once. "Press CONTROL-ALT-DELETE," he says, "Press F8," and also, "Ow, ow, ow," when she reaches for him. "I bruise easily," he says defensively.

"I have not even touched you yet, Rodney," Teyla says, exasperated.

"Excuse me for being prepared," he snaps, but where his tone is rude and petulant, a child's, his body moves with solid assurance, hands hot and steadying to whatever he touches. There is something reassuring about them, the way they may fumble but never shake. He's too much an earthquake for tremors. "Press this," he says, or at least, she thinks she hears this, the echoing repetition; there's a shadow under his jawline that might be a bruise. Depending on whose gossip one listens to Rodney is very good in bed, or very bad, selfless or selfish, but the general consensus is that the best time to get him into one is the hours after a disaster, the crazy twilight hours that all 'Lanteans know so well, when fear turns to passion, and anger to lust.

The omne, her people call it: the weird time, when all judgments are suspended, and one may fight, or scream, or sleep with another woman's lover, and suffer no repercussions in the morning. The few times she has asked of it on other worlds, the Ring always translates it as a variant of "conception".

Athosians know the proper way of things - to leave people to do as they will - but when they can 'Lanteans celebrate. Rodney left the party early, to "supervise repairs"; Sgt. Rainer a few minutes after. The computer is being sluggish again, and she frowns. She can hardly imagine them abed but something in the staccato tap of Rodney's fingers on the keyboard draws them out, a picture with some quality but no shape. Did he touch him with cold precision, with passion, did his hands shake or did he defuse him like a bomb? She presses the keys Rodney has taught her to but the picture on the screen remains motionless save the whirling cursor. The failure is stinging; her mouth tightens, and she does not yell or walk away. It has been a long while since she's felt inept.

"It's stopped," she thinks about saying, or: "The screen is frozen again," because she remembers the terminology, even if she cannot master the practicality. Despite what 'Lanteans think her people are not droneish - "backwards," Rodney would say, as he has casually said of other Irijjin - but the computer thinks in ways she never will, and she knows what Rodney will say if she asks for help. "Press this," he will say, "Press that." She wonders if she treats his lovers like he does his students, and were it not the case, if his lessons could be improved by turning it the other way around.

He's a horrible teacher - then she will be a better student. She's failed before but this will not be a failure. Even Ronon can do this and he spent seven years having everything not absolutely essential stripped away like chitin from the soft-skin underneath; some days he can barely bring himself to talk for the sheer unnecessariness of it and he can still check his email. It's the twelfth form of Quick Bird on Hot Sand all over again: bending her body to a shape impossible and strange, right over left hand, forcing her limbs to adhere to the pattern. Growing herself around the strangeness like a sun eating a planet, devouring her own limitations.

"You don't really need to know more than the basics, anyways," Rodney offers, looking over her shoulder, "because hello, let's face it: Stopping an attack probably isn't going to hinge on your ability to chat and send chain letters."

The first time Charin saw Teyla dance the Quick Bird - the forty-fourth time she'd done it - she'd mistaken the sweat that pricked the corner of Teyla's eyes for tears.


*


"Well, all of that certainly sounds like an adventure," Kate says. "It's too bad Rodney wasn't really interested in teaching you anything about computers, but then again, it is Rodney we're talking about," as if his existence were a joke in-keeping between them, a running gag.

"Apparently I only need to learn the basics," Teyla says, voice neutral.

"He could have showed you more than just how to turn it off and on," Kate counters. "But I'm glad you found the sensors more to your taste. I would have thought those would be very difficult to understand."

"I'm good at listening," Teyla says, and Kate ducks to hide a smile towards her own lunch, though the smile quickly creases into a frown when she realizes just what that lunch is: "Not-tuna surprise," she explains, and shifts it gingerly over to the side.

"It was very interesting," Teyla continues, and adds, "The sensors, not your salad." Kate laughs. Teyla chews for a moment, thinking, and finally decides on: "I can see why Dr. McKay is so fascinated by his work."

This, too, is neutral. Rodney is her friend, and people tend to view expressing any sort of strong emotion on the subject of Rodney as an invitation to share their own strong opinions of him, which are almost always decidedly less pleasant - but Kate just says thoughtfully, "Yes, that's why I like working with scientists - they're all so passionate, sometimes about the strangest things, but it's - refreshing, really," and she looks up at Teyla, eyes oddly serious, "to see someone love some little part of the world so much."


*


John is teaching her how to shoot a gun. Feet shoulder width apart, stand with a slight lean forward, foot opposite her Queen-hand in front, as if they have time for these ridiculous formalities of motion, once through the Ring. John doesn't touch her, but he keeps the range cold and his body hot; he's close enough for her to feel his breath moving on the back of her neck, stirring the fine hairs there, raising hackles. She shivers from the warmth, and loads the chamber, pulling and releasing the slide.

"Make sure that -" John starts.

"- my thumb clears the slide," Teyla finishes, gently. "I know. I have done this many times before."

Swing the arm upwards to the proper position. She rests there a moment for show - Teyla can find her sight without having to pause but her lines are perfectly straight; her arms untrembling. It's a display an Athosian would consider ostentatious at best, and that John does not notice. All of this pantomime is a waste of time, as she is already quite proficient, but John smiles and shrugs, disarming for anyone who doesn't know him as well as Teyla does. Technically, he tells her, this is a refresher course; mandatory by order of the SGC. Ronon, she notices, was not required to do anything of the sort, nor was Rodney. She's seen Elizabeth hovering around the range.

"Aim," John says, and Teyla closes her eye. "Fire," he says, and the dummy rocks from the bullets in the middle of its kill-zone. Sometimes she spies Kate down here too. This section - armory and firing range - is mostly military, and her red hair is strange amongst the grey, like wreckage burning through mist. She is never alone. Kate doesn't walk, she accompanies, always part of a pair. If Kate enjoyed casual touch more Teyla wouldn't be surprised to see her glide past on someone's arm, like an Earth debutante-woman Teyla has seen in the movies Kate likes.

Teyla doesn't understand Kate's fascination with these movies, even if they are a historical record of her people, as she claims. Their lives seem so stilted, Teyla had complained. Why dwell on them? Because they knew the rules, Kate had said, the first time, and then afterwards always answers: The costumes are so beautiful.

Kate's not here today, though. The gun clicks - empty - and John hands her a second cartridge, watching her eject the old one and slot the new into place. "Aim," he says, and her eye closes; "Fire." It's almost soothing, this ritual of oncoming murder. Whatever test John is going by doesn't evaluate her ability to maim without a kill. They are not interested in slowing down, buying time, warnings. Kill shots are what they ask for; head and chest. John had once told her that police on his world carried guns and ever since she has wondered.

Teyla thinks, suddenly, that she will find out when Elizabeth's refresher is. John is no laze but he trusts her and has never been one for extra work; perhaps he will let Teyla do the evaluation. She would like to. Breathe over Elizabeth as John breathes over her now, watch her hip and shoulder to correct her stance. Touch her, to position, as that is allowed in John's culture between two women, as long as there is a man in the room. She is curious what Elizabeth will go for first. The shoulder, the abdomen, the throat? Mercy? Perhaps Elizabeth will be horrified, or excited. She'll never say but her breath might catch. Teyla didn't lie to Kate; she is good at listening. The sound of bullets, for example, have always sounded hollow hitting anything but flesh.

"Aim," John says, and she fires.


*


She's never imagined what the first time with John would be. From the way he kissed, hungry and wanting and not-wanting at once, she can probably guess. As she shot she thought she saw Kate's flame-wreckage hair, and then realized it was a fire extinguisher. This is what it is like for John, she thought, looking over at him, or how it would be if he took anyone to bed, and the thought stayed with her all day. When she passes Kate in the hallway, later, she smiles at the graceful curve of her neck. This is how John would touch his lover, she thinks. They pass with two feet of space in between them.

"I can see why this was forbidden among my people," Teyla will say that night, panting, between the second and third times. "The women would never go back to their men."

"I suppose the men would have to amuse themselves," Kate laughs; for a moment, it sounds genuine, surprising them both. We have to have ground rules, she had once said; this is one of them. Don't stay. Don't reveal. Professionalism, Kate had said. Teyla smoothes her hand over the crumpled, salt-grained sheets - Kate likes to leave her windows open - and then up over the curve of Kate's shoulder, and for a moment, feels tender and forgiving and so utterly unlike John at all. Kate catches her palm and kisses it, tongue darting out to swipe over the creases and bantos-calluses. Not sexual, just - explorative. Like Teyla was a world beyond her gate. You're beautiful, Teyla thinks.

"You're beautiful," Teyla says.

She spends the nights in Kate's bed, but never the mornings, and feels closer to John for the distance.


*


"Good morning, Kanaan," she says.

"Teyla," he replies. "Good morning."


*


Kate is teaching her how to make love to a woman. Kiss the place on her neck, where the artery jumps up to meet Teyla's lips; nip at her thigh and be rewarded with a groan. Arm goes here, leg goes there, the skin beneath her breast is smooth and skin-salty and if someone goes over someone must go under: these are the things Teyla has learned. Go slow, Kate says. You can do that with a woman. Go fast. You can do that with a woman, too. It's not Teyla's first time with a woman lover but Kate can make her scream. Strange luxury, sound, after spending so much of her life in a thin-walled village. Teyla can bring Kate off with fingers but Kate tongues words on Teyla's sex. For once Teyla is not the experienced one in the ways of the body. That's strange, too.

Athosians would call them the enari: the vain ones, wanting a body so close to their own. Covetous Teyla may be but vain she's never been. There's little closeness between them. Kate loves her strength, the musculature of necessity; Teyla loves Kate's softness, the few guilty pounds around her hips that she knows Kate has been trying to lose. No one on Athos would be like this - made of anything but bone and muscle and scant skin. For the most part Teyla couldn't think of a less similar person to Kate than Rodney but in this way they are the same: unspoiled, wasteful. Lavish in the ways of their bodies. The expense of them appeals.

"I like you like this," Teyla murmurs into Kate's skin, as Kate stretches out amongst the sheets, curled and shuddering, for once silent, no platitudes, the war no longer polite. Gorgeous in the ugliness of orgasm. "I like you like this": Into her shoulder, her collarbone, the dip where belly meets thighs, into the contrast of them - dark and light, hard and soft, separate and deeply erotic. In the dark, it is hard to tell, but it seems like Kate is mostly unscarred.


*


The first time, Kate finds her in the training room, during the early hour Teyla reserves for teaching. She never puts out a bulletin, as some of the scientists do when they wished to instruct, but people listen to her here, when it comes to kicks and blocks and violence; almost always, she has a student.

"Is this a bad time?" Kate asks.

"No," Teyla says.

"If you're still avoiding me I could come back later," Kate says. She is smiling.

"I was not avoiding you," Teyla says. It's true; she wasn't. She simply had other things to do.

"You don't come for our sessions anymore," Kate says.

"I have been very busy," Teyla says. "Doctor Weir feels that in the aftermath of the Genii coup we should reestablish our treaties with our existing trading partners, and if possible seek out new ones. There are many worlds whose sole income depended on the Genii's war efforts. I have been off-world since Tuesday."

This is not precisely untrue, though perhaps it is as far as the truth went. Reestablishing their treaties had been Teyla's idea - though the memo had worn Elizabeth's signature - and per usual to their off-world plans, nothing had actually gone to them. Teyla had spent most of her week in a jumper with Doctors McKay, Wright-Avoy, and Moon - "What do you get when a physicist and two chemists walk into a jumper?" John had muttered when he was commandeered to pilot: "A big fucking mess" - and thus most of her first night back on Atlantis in the shower, scrubbing the sound of Rodney off her skin.

"I understand if you feel uncomfortable around me," Kate says, "but I really do think we were making progress, and I just wanted you to know that my door is open, if you ever want to talk."

"I do not regret it," Teyla says. "What we did."

Kate's expression essentially does not change, but for a moment - so brief Teyla would have thought she imagined it had she been anyone else - her mouth opens into a tiny 'oh': surprise, or perhaps just catching her breath. It was a brisk walk from the nearest jumper, and she sits on a couch for a living.

"I don't suppose you know where we go from here?" Kate asks, finally.

Teyla looks at her, guardedly, as she has been taught to do. Kate's expression is soft and pleasant. Unassuming. Unjudging. She will accept any decision Teyla makes, and Teyla wants, suddenly, to fight her; to have Kate drag her back to bed and kiss her until she cried out; to let her go. She's the more talented at diplomacy but Kate has trained herself to be a mirror - she reflects. Teyla twirls her sticks, to regain some balance or sense of movement, and Kate flinches.

"I do not know," Teyla says, honestly.

Kate nods; she looks thoughtful. Outside, it's still dark, and the light in the room throws reflections of them up against the dark window-glass. They had stood off-center; from that angle, Kate is hidden, and Teyla could see only herself: sticks out, dark face hazy and still, and her body loose, but poised with the possibility of movement, as if her reflection were preparing itself to dance the Quick Bird, and bend over backwards.


fin.

Comments

I've *always* thought Teyla is FIERCE, hee.

[ticketsonmyself.livejournal.com]

She wonders if she treats his lovers like he does his students, and were it not the case, if his lessons could be improved by turning it the other way around.

He's a horrible teacher - then she will be a better student. She's failed before but this will not be a failure.

Oh, Teyla! I love this.

devouring her own limitations is an great turn of phrase.

Sweat for tears - an image I really like, especially its significance in this context.

It's easy to hear Kate's jokingly almost-confidential tone as she refers to Rodney, making Teyla an intimate in Kate's joke if Teyla chooses to be.

Teyla chews for a moment, thinking, and finally decides on: "I can see why Dr. McKay is so fascinated by his work."

This, too, is neutral. Rodney is her friend, and people tend to view expressing any sort of strong emotion on the subject of Rodney as an invitation to share their own strong opinions of him, which are almost always decidedly less pleasant - but Kate just says thoughtfully, "Yes, that's why I like working with scientists - they're all so passionate, sometimes about the strangest things, but it's - refreshing, really," and she looks up at Teyla, eyes oddly serious, "to see someone love some little part of the world so much."

I like this extrapolation from Teyla and Kate's dynamic in canon, in just how this moment underscores Teyla's careful reticence and diplomacy, and how Kate shares something she enjoys about her job.

On rereading, my favorite scene is definitely Teyla and John at the shooting range - so many of the details are note perfect in their characterization for everyone.

Kate catches her palm and kisses it, tongue darting out to swipe over the creases and bantos-calluses. Not sexual, just - explorative. Like Teyla was a world beyond her gate. You're beautiful, Teyla thinks.

"You're beautiful," Teyla says.

What a beautiful, tiny moment of lovely characterization for both of them.

Over the character limit, so this is the second part

[ticketsonmyself.livejournal.com]

Covetous Teyla may be but vain she's never been. There's little closeness between them. Kate loves her strength, the musculature of necessity; Teyla loves Kate's softness, the few guilty pounds around her hips that she knows Kate has been trying to lose. No one on Athos would be like this - made of anything but bone and muscle and scant skin. For the most part Teyla couldn't think of a less similar person to Kate than Rodney but in this way they are the same: unspoiled, wasteful. Lavish in the ways of their bodies.

This is excellent. It also reminds me of some countervailing thoughts on Athosian sexual mores that artaxastra discussed a couple of weeks ago, which I'll share here (including remarks unrelated to a taboo on same-sex relations) because I think they're interesting both in and of themselves and with respect to how they might affect Teyla.

First, rules follow function. People don't make up rules that are unfunctional. Old rules may become unfunctional as circumstances change, but they weren't unfunctional to begin with. One thing that immediately made sense to me was a strong prejudice toward exogamy and a strong incest taboo. When you have a population that flirts with genetic unviability due to the Wraith, you have to have strong reasons to keep that population as genetically healthy as possible. Incest, to Teyla, is relations within the fourth degree. In other words, for her incest would not only be her father, brothers, uncles, grandfathers and first cousins, but all the way out through third cousins. Half of the people in the settlement would be too closely related to mate with. Because otherwise you are going to get a very inbred population very quickly! (And clearly this is a problem anyway, otherwise you would not have her and Kanaan with the Gift. In a population that wasn't inbred, a genetic difference that was recessive would not appear "a few times in each generation" as she says it does.)

To go with that, you need a strong prejudice toward exogamy. It's good to bring in strangers, to bring in new blood through the stargate. That's ultimately what keeps the population healthy. ...

Another logical thing in a culture stressed as this one is by predators, and nomadic, is that children have to be spaced. Children born too close together are dangerous -- for their mothers, and for each other. Each child too young to walk and migrate, each child in need of constant supervision, reduces the chance of others surviving. One child under four at a time is what a mother can handle.

So Teyla has no taboo against birth control. The Athosians don't have hormonal birth control, but various herbal remedies and condoms are used. When she's given the opportunity to use the Depo-Provera shots that most of the women on the expedition are using, she has no reason not to embrace it.

Secondly, there is no taboo against non-procreative sex. If you need to space children out, then sex that can't result in pregnancy is absolutely necessary, whether that's heterosexual or homosexual. Cultures with strong taboos against homosexuality tend to be cultures that need to grow the population, or that have plenty of room to grow, while cultures that are very accepting tend to be ones where there is population pressure and the need to slow down growth. Bisexuality is functional in a society where you need to cut down the amount of time spent in procreative sex and reduce the number of children. Teyla has no taboos against homosexuality, nor against heterosexual non procreative sex. For example, heterosexual anal sex is perfectly normal, because you can't get pregnant. (There have been some fascinating articles done on the rise of sodomy laws in Europe in the wake of the Black Death -- when the population had declined dramatically and growth was desperately needed.

I think you might mean expansiveness for expense? And in the next paragraph, where is missing an h.

In the dark, it is hard to tell, but it seems like Kate is mostly unscarred.

Good details in that concluding sentence.

This is the third part

[ticketsonmyself.livejournal.com]

Ha, I like Teyla thinking of her long shower as scrubbing the sound of Rodney off her skin - the muscle-knotting, angry-sweat frustration she must have been feeling toward everyone in the jumper by the end of the week!

Teyla wanted, suddenly, to fight her

Incursion of the past tense?

I like the overall mood of the story's end.

Re: This is the third part

[vanitashaze.livejournal.com]

You know, it's funny; I don't particularly like artaxastra's fic - I always found something off about them, not in action but somewhere in voice - but because of your excerpt, I went back and read her commentaries, and I love them. They're so insightful, especially in terms of Athosian culture! Yay. It's so hard to find cultural discussions about Pegasus, even in a fandom the size of SGA.

It's not that I've ever thought Teyla was a pushover - duh - but I kind of took fandom at face value and imagined her as this wise woman who didn't make mistakes and never had inappropriate feelings, failures, or for that matter, a temper. Damn close to perfect. But with Battle and Victory, she feels so much more raw to me, and honestly, I like her the better for it.

Argh. A week of angry Rodney in a jumper. I imagine that eventually she and John would have just taken the front compartment and locked the door. (Meanwhile, of course, Ronon is secretly laughing at all of them, because he elected to stay behind on the planet and take an easier job - say, fending off an army. Sometimes having no degrees or magic genes - Wraith or Ancient - comes in handy!)

Thank you for pointing out the typos. That last section changed tenses so many times even I got confused, so I'm not surprised that I missed something. FYI, though, the "expense" is actually supposed to be "expense". I was referring not only to the size of their bodies, but the resources that had gone into them - food, etc. - to leave them at that state, i.e., not rangy and short. Teyla's from a culture where resources are precious, and work is hard - there's a little resentment in there towards people like Rodney and Kate, a little disgust, but also attraction, because in part they're so lavish, so outside the majority of her experience, and most importantly, so different from herself. I don't think Teyla is particularly attracted to people too close to herself.

I'm glad you like the mood. I was trying for ambiguous, not as... er, tragic as most of my stories, and guessing from your feedback - you-who-hates-non-gen-angst - I must have at least sort of succeeded! But perhaps I didn't. I find that the way I view most of my stories is not the way that others do.

Re: This is the third part

[ticketsonmyself.livejournal.com]

Most of what artaxastra writes is 'shipper fic, and while I'm interested in John and Teyla's relationship in canon and how writers extrapolate from that, in practice I've only ever found anywhere a couple of John/Teyla stories I really liked (that weren't explicitly AU; I have enjoyed AUs, both with characterization based on canon and with characterization that convincingly extrapolates on what might happen to various characters' development if events diverged from canon, but AUs have their own rules), and those stories were either a) mostly gen or b) very much centered on someone else's characterization and POV in a character-study way. I share your feelings with respect to what you said about voice in artaxastra's stories. Here's a couple of very short gen pieces I like by her: "Fire" (http://artaxastra.livejournal.com/317151.html?format=light) (a vivid little snapshot of Kate and Teyla at the beginning of the siege, Kate POV) and "Rapture" (http://artaxastra.livejournal.com/327654.html?format=light) (Teyla reflecting on John and the city in flight, "First Strike").

I too find artaxastra's commentaries fascinating! When I reread your story I was thinking about how Athosians decided long ago to deliberately stop and regress with respect to technological progress in the interest of making themselves less likely to attract the Wraith, and how Teyla herself might feel about the decision her predecessors took (the firelighter she shows in the pilot episode comes to mind), as she works toward basic proficiency in technology her own people must have surpassed long ago, and then essentially thrown away in the interest of survival. I thought I remembered artaxastra or penknife discussing this in a comment, but I haven't been able to locate it again.

I've been thinking about Kanaan and Teyla in canon... the writers never bothered to develop his character much beyond a couple of lines, and from those few lines it's not hard to conclude that they aren't a committed couple in the romantic sense, since it's canon that Kanaan was having trouble getting things to work in the city, didn't seem to be making friends, and eventually returned to live in the Athosian settlement (so I guess they might be time-sharing Torren through most of S5). I would actually be interested in seeing a fan writer develop the Kanaan/Teyla relationship as a relationship, building on what little we saw in canon, though the writer would have to do a lot of work and I imagine most fans aren't interested enough in Kanaan! (I think bluflamingo did some of this in her Big Bang rewriting of S4, but I'd like to see more.)

I've long thought of Teyla as a person who - under all her sense of responsibility, sense of duty, careful negotiation - has banked fires of real anger and passion... and that's something that links her on an important level to John, as pentapus describes in "No Particular Month" (http://pentapus.livejournal.com/57436.html?thread=414044&format=light) (John and Rodney during "The Return," slash, short; I recommend it):

John's whole life, people have been afraid of his anger. Fury doesn't make him impulsive, it makes him effective and dangerous, and he's had years and years of Tone it down, John. Careful, John from people who don't know what to do about it. They're afraid -- and surprised. Why don't people expect him to have a temper? John's always just figured that he's strange, or that everybody else is, and learned to deal. He never expected to cross an entire fucking galaxy and find a person who's nothing like him but completely like him, who he sometimes feels he must have recognized on sight, who bends her head to his and says Yes, yes, of course we are furious, fight, fight, fight.

My comment ran over the character limit again!

[ticketsonmyself.livejournal.com]

I was thinking about a story artaxastra wrote about the aftermath of "Remnants" and how she related that to what we saw of John's relationship with Captain Holland in "Phantoms," and the way John hallucinated that Teyla was Holland. I mean, like I said, I'm not even that interested in what John/Teyla fic I've seen, but I was totally fascinated by what was going on in John's head during "Phantoms." I would totally read more Sheppard/Holland backstory (John/Teyla optional but weirdly interesting in this context!) if only people would write it! Sheppard/Holland certainly goes above and beyond any given minimum requirements for slash, what with John's devotion and sacrifice and the enduring consequences (plus the tragic ending, sigh).

Argh. A week of angry Rodney in a jumper. I imagine that eventually she and John would have just taken the front compartment and locked the door. (Meanwhile, of course, Ronon is secretly laughing at all of them, because he elected to stay behind on the planet and take an easier job - say, fending off an army. Sometimes having no degrees or magic genes - Wraith or Ancient - comes in handy!)

Yes, exactly! Hee. (Heh, I'd been wondering where Ronon was that week!) John and Teyla probably spent the time playing cards, cleaning their guns, and wincing periodically when Rodney's voice surpassed the usual (impressive) decibel levels he hits when deeply aggravated.

Your explanation for expense rather than expansiveness makes sense. (Plus it fits what I ended up concluding after turning the word over in my mind after I commented and before you replied, so I'm doubly satisfied in that respect? Hee.)

I like it when stories end in a way that doesn't necessarily close off future possibilities of happiness, even if that happiness doesn't take the shape the story's protagonist might now desire or think she desires, whether the ending itself is sad or happy or somewhere in between. And in a more general sense, I like ambiguous endings when I both really don't know what's going to happen next (though I might speculate about the different possibilities) and am satisfied with that concluding ambiguity! So on both counts, I enjoyed your story.

[insane-duckfish.livejournal.com]

Ooh, I like this. :) Your insights into each character and the sort of relationship they would have feel very true.

[vanitashaze.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you liked it! Thank you for commenting - so rare for femslash pairings. Gah. The girls need more love.

[insane-duckfish.livejournal.com]

so rare for femslash pairings

Yes, exactly! It's so rare to find awesome femslash and the girls definitely need more love. :D *loves them*

[accidentalfan.livejournal.com]

*points at icon* Yup.

I loved Teyla's voice and perspectives in this. And you use some remarkale imagery.

"I can see why this was forbidden among my people," Teyla will say that night, panting, between the second and third times. "The women would never go back to their men." Indeed. ;)

[vanitashaze.livejournal.com]

Thank you! *totally agrees with icon*

[aliaras.livejournal.com]

Agh. I'm late to this party, but this was a fabulous fic, and it's great to see Atlantis femslash. I really liked your Teyla - she's not a character I've seen much of, as I mostly read McShep, so it was great to see her developed well.

[thingswithwings.livejournal.com]

how on earth did I never see this before now? it's doubly embarrassing given that you mention me in the story notes. This is the Teyla/Kate story I have always wanted, because you got them just exactly right; their mutual guardedness, politeness, and also the sheer looming difference between them. Incredibly well-characterized, and I love your steady, calm, simmeringly angry Teyla voice. The ending is perfectly dissatisfying - much as I wish for them to move past that moment, to get past that guardedness, that moment of hesistance and indeterminacy is all too believable. Gorgeous.

And, really, I can readily believe that this is the backstory for Teyla's reaction to Kate's death. Teyla standing on the other side of the room, drawn into herself, unable to even touch Kate to see if she's alive.

[livrelibre.livejournal.com]

This is absolutely lovely!