Sam Carter knows how to blow up a sun, fly an F-16, write a program to calculate the red-shift differential to enable a Stargate to make an accurate connection in an expanding universe.
She doesn't know how to look after a baby.
She really doesn't know how she pulled this duty - or whether Sheppard decided to spring it on her as revenge for the last mission she sent him and his team on: the one involving the potential ZPM that somehow managed to acquire teenaged boys, a dinosaur cast that would make Spielberg's CGI group week, and slime. He was jiggling young Tegan up and down in the mess hall when she arrived, paused to talk, and was suddenly left holding the baby in a far too literal way.
Teyla's son looks up at her with a steady calm gaze. Accustomed to being passed around from person to person, he yawns widely and purses his small pink lips.
"It's all very well for you," she says, looking down at him. "But I've got a city to run."
Long lashes blink owlishly at her. What is a city compared to me? they seem to say.
Sam sighs and repositions him. She had an hour or two free and was going to run some of her own simulations - managing Atlantis hadn't exactly left her with too much time for her own studies - but it looks like that's not going to be an option.
Or, maybe...
"Okay, so, Tegan Emmagan, how do you feel about me telling you about the quasar over in sector 45-G-23 of your galaxy?"
Tegan burbles a spit bubble up at her and fingers her dog tags.
Teyla finds Colonel Carter in the labs, whiteboard texter in hand, pursing her lips as she parses equations. Tegan drowses against her chest in a sling, his cheek pillowed against Sam's dogtags.
"Sam?"
"Oh, Teyla." Sam glances back for a moment before she rubs out a set of calculations with her finger, then grimaces and wipes her finger on her trousers. "Sorry about this. Sheppard handed him to me and I just... He snuggled up and just went to sleep."
Teyla grins. "So I see." Sam seems comfortable enough with Tegan, and Tegan is not complaining of his position.
"How'd the bargaining agreements with the Prosecci go?"
She twists a little, her body twinging with stiff recollection of the hours spent passing motions back and forth, making suggestions, offering alternatives, gently bringing them around to the final agreement and then persuading them to set their seals to the document.
"They were longer about their decision than we expected, but I believe that even the IOA will not have reason to complain of the agreement."
Out of many Pegasus cultures, the Prosecci have some manufacturing skill and are open to working with the city to develop some materiel to reduce the reliance on Earth. It is nothing more than a stop-gap measure; Earth is not about to abandon Atlantis. But the way things stand with Michael and his hybrids moving throughout Pegasus, the leaders of Atlantis have decided it best to acquire what they can in Pegasus, rather than relying totally on Earth.
It is something Teyla feels should have been done long since; but she is merely an alien to the IOA, a voice that should be given no true power of influence over Earth and its doings.
"Good work," Sam says. "We needed that much. Would you have time later today to work up the full brief on the agreement?"
"I can," Teyla says, watching as Sam gently jiggles Tegan to wake him up. "It is no trouble."
"Thanks to you." Sam begins to look a little desperate when Tegan gives out a great wail, unpleasantly disturbed in his sleep. "Oh, no - don't cry, Tegan! Mommy's here."
Teyla keeps her smile inward. Many otherwise rational and reasonable Earth adults tend to 'talk baby' to her son. She does not mention that she finds it both adorable and amusing.
Then her son's eyes fix on her and he reaches for her. Something wells up in her throat, a love that almost chokes her. She carried him beneath his heart, and now he carries a piece of hers - and always will.
The transfer from keeper to mother is easy. "I hope he did not disturb you in your work."
"Ah, well... he got a bit hungry at one stage." Sam coughs. "Unfortunately, I've got the equipment but not the juice."
That prompts laughter - and an innocent look from Tegan, who is probably not even aware of his mistake. "Thank you, Sam. I shall leave you to your equations."
Sam glances at the board. "It's just equations. I can do them anytime."
"It is still a valuable skill - or so Rodney repeatedly assures me."
The other woman snorts as she puts the marker down. "Rodney forgets that he can't barter for a sack of grain without screwing it up." She shrugs as she brushes a finger across Tegan's hair. "Our society skews towards intellect and reason; not so much towards relationships and duty of care." The smile is brief and wry. "But this little guy here? If I had to choose between him and one of Rodney's equation, I'd pick him."
Teyla is both amused and bemused by the slightly embarrassed look that falls over Sam's face, as though she's just recalled herself in the midst of her words.
"Anyway, he was no trouble." Then, with a twinkle in her blue eyes, she adds, "Less trouble than Rodney, anyway."
They grin, two women very well aware of Rodney's particular attributes and annoyances.
"Thank you, again."
"Teyla." Sam seems a little uncertain now - an unusual state for the Atlantis leader. "I don't know if I've ever said this to you, but...thank you."
"For what?"
"For being different. Keeping your team-mates in check. Not being from Earth." Sam shrugs, as though trying to find words for something she can't describe.
Teyla studies Sam for a moment, while Tegan snuffles at her shoulder, wondering why his food is not materialising. "An odd thing to be thankful for."
But she thinks she understands. Sam has had more experience of an outsider view than most; in her work in the military and in the scientific fields, working on SG1 with Teal'c of the Jaffa Nation, as an outsider come to Atlantis and expected to step into the shoes of another leader, still missed.
"Maybe. And maybe not." Sam shrugs. "Thanks anyway."
Tegan bawls, then, and Teyla takes herself away to feed him.
He should feel like an idiot as he drops the jacket over the back of a chair, the heavy military weave falling off his fingertips in a soft crumple of material.
He doesn't.
He should feel like a fool as he pulls his t-shirt over his head with a jingle of dogtags and a lingering whiff of his own sweat.
But he doesn't.
His skin prickles with the cooler air, but his flesh is rapidly heating. The hairs on his arms and chest tighten as she circles him. Her fingers trace a line across the back of his shoulders, then slide coolly down his spine to slip just inside the waistband of his trousers.
His hair's already on end when her mouth presses softly against his nape, just below the chain of his tags - a warm point of reference in a coolly spinning sky. He fumbles with the belt, with the button, with the zipper.
He's already hardening, even before cool fingers slide darkly across his hipbone to take him in hand. Two points press against his back, the sweep of her hair falls silky against his shoulder, and the pulse of blood in his cock matches the thundering beat of his heart as her thumb trails the length of him to the tip.
He's not even fully out of his trousers yet.
He feels like a man waiting on a court-martial when she comes and stands before him, surveying him from crown to toes like a queen deciding if she'll keep a slave or throw him to the lions.
She had a man she loved; a man she chose from her own childhood, her own people. A man she lost to Michael and his machinations.
She never looked at John. Why would she?
She's looking now.
His hand reaches out, brushes lightly along lip and jaw and earlobe, and she smiles and steps in to him, lifting her mouth to his, threading her fingers through his hair.
And in her kiss, in her arms, John feels like he's the king of the universe.
To give John his due, the three friends he brought home for the week are extremely discreet.
"I believe that John always intended to spend some time with you during this visit."
"Just not as much as he has since I asked you all to stay."
Within moments of John's arrival at the house, Dave realised that if he was going to see his brother at all during this 'downtime', he was going to have to endure the presence of the two strangers and the one not-quite-a-stranger who came with him.
It's been less stressful than he thought it would be.
Teyla Emmagan's mouth twitches a little. "You are much like your brother, Mr. Sheppard."
"I thought I asked you to call me Dave."
This time, her smile is full and broad, turned upon him without mercy. "You did."
"Is he regretting it?" In spite of himself the old bitterness slips out - old wounds not quite healed over by distance and time.
The look Ms. Emmagan gives him is measuring, thoughtful. Unlike Dr. McKay, who'll jabber on unaware that he's lost his audience, Ms. Emmagan picks her times to speak and her times to be silent.
"John's regrets are less to do with you, Mr. Sheppard, and more to do with the unfinished business between him and your father." She turns her face back to the window and closes her eyes against the sun. "He does not say it, but...I believe he is glad to be here."
Dave turns his face back to the window and stares out into the yard where John is pointing out the location of their old treehouse to a disbelieving McKay and an amused Dex.
He doesn't say it, but he's glad he invited John and his friends to stay.
Hm. I'm afraid that this setup would take more energy and effort than I can presently manage. You might have to be content with my Shermer High AU "In The Game"
Sam Carter knows how to blow up a sun, fly an F-16, write a program to calculate the red-shift differential to enable a Stargate to make an accurate connection in an expanding universe.
She doesn't know how to look after a baby.
She really doesn't know how she pulled this duty - or whether Sheppard decided to spring it on her as revenge for the last mission she sent him and his team on: the one involving the potential ZPM that somehow managed to acquire teenaged boys, a dinosaur cast that would make Spielberg's CGI group week, and slime. He was jiggling young Tegan up and down in the mess hall when she arrived, paused to talk, and was suddenly left holding the baby in a far too literal way.
Teyla's son looks up at her with a steady calm gaze. Accustomed to being passed around from person to person, he yawns widely and purses his small pink lips.
"It's all very well for you," she says, looking down at him. "But I've got a city to run."
Long lashes blink owlishly at her. What is a city compared to me? they seem to say.
Sam sighs and repositions him. She had an hour or two free and was going to run some of her own simulations - managing Atlantis hadn't exactly left her with too much time for her own studies - but it looks like that's not going to be an option.
Or, maybe...
"Okay, so, Tegan Emmagan, how do you feel about me telling you about the quasar over in sector 45-G-23 of your galaxy?"
Tegan burbles a spit bubble up at her and fingers her dog tags.
He should feel like an idiot as he drops the jacket over the back of a chair, the heavy military weave falling off his fingertips in a soft crumple of material.
He doesn't.
He should feel like a fool as he pulls his t-shirt over his head with a jingle of dogtags and a lingering whiff of his own sweat.
But he doesn't.
His skin prickles with the cooler air, but his flesh is rapidly heating. The hairs on his arms and chest tighten as she circles him. Her fingers trace a line across the back of his shoulders, then slide coolly down his spine to slip just inside the waistband of his trousers.
His hair's already on end when her mouth presses softly against his nape, just below the chain of his tags - a warm point of reference in a coolly spinning sky. He fumbles with the belt, with the button, with the zipper.
He's already hardening, even before cool fingers slide darkly across his hipbone to take him in hand. Two points press against his back, the sweep of her hair falls silky against his shoulder, and the pulse of blood in his cock matches the thundering beat of his heart as her thumb trails the length of him to the tip.
He's not even fully out of his trousers yet.
He feels like a man waiting on a court-martial when she comes and stands before him, surveying him from crown to toes like a queen deciding if she'll keep a slave or throw him to the lions.
She had a man she loved; a man she chose from her own childhood, her own people. A man she lost to Michael and his machinations.
She never looked at John. Why would she?
She's looking now.
His hand reaches out, brushes lightly along lip and jaw and earlobe, and she smiles and steps in to him, lifting her mouth to his, threading her fingers through his hair.
And in her kiss, in her arms, John feels like he's the king of the universe.
To give John his due, the three friends he brought home for the week are extremely discreet.
"I believe that John always intended to spend some time with you during this visit."
"Just not as much as he has since I asked you all to stay."
Within moments of John's arrival at the house, Dave realised that if he was going to see his brother at all during this 'downtime', he was going to have to endure the presence of the two strangers and the one not-quite-a-stranger who came with him.
It's been less stressful than he thought it would be.
Teyla Emmagan's mouth twitches a little. "You are much like your brother, Mr. Sheppard."
"I thought I asked you to call me Dave."
This time, her smile is full and broad, turned upon him without mercy. "You did."
"Is he regretting it?" In spite of himself the old bitterness slips out - old wounds not quite healed over by distance and time.
The look Ms. Emmagan gives him is measuring, thoughtful. Unlike Dr. McKay, who'll jabber on unaware that he's lost his audience, Ms. Emmagan picks her times to speak and her times to be silent.
"John's regrets are less to do with you, Mr. Sheppard, and more to do with the unfinished business between him and your father." She turns her face back to the window and closes her eyes against the sun. "He does not say it, but...I believe he is glad to be here."
Dave turns his face back to the window and stares out into the yard where John is pointing out the location of their old treehouse to a disbelieving McKay and an amused Dex.
He doesn't say it, but he's glad he invited John and his friends to stay.
Hm. I'm afraid that this setup would take more energy and effort than I can presently manage. You might have to be content with my Shermer High AU "In The Game"
no subject
part i
Sam Carter knows how to blow up a sun, fly an F-16, write a program to calculate the red-shift differential to enable a Stargate to make an accurate connection in an expanding universe.
She doesn't know how to look after a baby.
She really doesn't know how she pulled this duty - or whether Sheppard decided to spring it on her as revenge for the last mission she sent him and his team on: the one involving the potential ZPM that somehow managed to acquire teenaged boys, a dinosaur cast that would make Spielberg's CGI group week, and slime. He was jiggling young Tegan up and down in the mess hall when she arrived, paused to talk, and was suddenly left holding the baby in a far too literal way.
Teyla's son looks up at her with a steady calm gaze. Accustomed to being passed around from person to person, he yawns widely and purses his small pink lips.
"It's all very well for you," she says, looking down at him. "But I've got a city to run."
Long lashes blink owlishly at her. What is a city compared to me? they seem to say.
Sam sighs and repositions him. She had an hour or two free and was going to run some of her own simulations - managing Atlantis hadn't exactly left her with too much time for her own studies - but it looks like that's not going to be an option.
Or, maybe...
"Okay, so, Tegan Emmagan, how do you feel about me telling you about the quasar over in sector 45-G-23 of your galaxy?"
Tegan burbles a spit bubble up at her and fingers her dog tags.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
tbc
part ii
"Sam?"
"Oh, Teyla." Sam glances back for a moment before she rubs out a set of calculations with her finger, then grimaces and wipes her finger on her trousers. "Sorry about this. Sheppard handed him to me and I just... He snuggled up and just went to sleep."
Teyla grins. "So I see." Sam seems comfortable enough with Tegan, and Tegan is not complaining of his position.
"How'd the bargaining agreements with the Prosecci go?"
She twists a little, her body twinging with stiff recollection of the hours spent passing motions back and forth, making suggestions, offering alternatives, gently bringing them around to the final agreement and then persuading them to set their seals to the document.
"They were longer about their decision than we expected, but I believe that even the IOA will not have reason to complain of the agreement."
Out of many Pegasus cultures, the Prosecci have some manufacturing skill and are open to working with the city to develop some materiel to reduce the reliance on Earth. It is nothing more than a stop-gap measure; Earth is not about to abandon Atlantis. But the way things stand with Michael and his hybrids moving throughout Pegasus, the leaders of Atlantis have decided it best to acquire what they can in Pegasus, rather than relying totally on Earth.
It is something Teyla feels should have been done long since; but she is merely an alien to the IOA, a voice that should be given no true power of influence over Earth and its doings.
"Good work," Sam says. "We needed that much. Would you have time later today to work up the full brief on the agreement?"
"I can," Teyla says, watching as Sam gently jiggles Tegan to wake him up. "It is no trouble."
"Thanks to you." Sam begins to look a little desperate when Tegan gives out a great wail, unpleasantly disturbed in his sleep. "Oh, no - don't cry, Tegan! Mommy's here."
Teyla keeps her smile inward. Many otherwise rational and reasonable Earth adults tend to 'talk baby' to her son. She does not mention that she finds it both adorable and amusing.
Then her son's eyes fix on her and he reaches for her. Something wells up in her throat, a love that almost chokes her. She carried him beneath his heart, and now he carries a piece of hers - and always will.
The transfer from keeper to mother is easy. "I hope he did not disturb you in your work."
"Ah, well... he got a bit hungry at one stage." Sam coughs. "Unfortunately, I've got the equipment but not the juice."
That prompts laughter - and an innocent look from Tegan, who is probably not even aware of his mistake. "Thank you, Sam. I shall leave you to your equations."
Sam glances at the board. "It's just equations. I can do them anytime."
"It is still a valuable skill - or so Rodney repeatedly assures me."
The other woman snorts as she puts the marker down. "Rodney forgets that he can't barter for a sack of grain without screwing it up." She shrugs as she brushes a finger across Tegan's hair. "Our society skews towards intellect and reason; not so much towards relationships and duty of care." The smile is brief and wry. "But this little guy here? If I had to choose between him and one of Rodney's equation, I'd pick him."
tbc
part iii
"Anyway, he was no trouble." Then, with a twinkle in her blue eyes, she adds, "Less trouble than Rodney, anyway."
They grin, two women very well aware of Rodney's particular attributes and annoyances.
"Thank you, again."
"Teyla." Sam seems a little uncertain now - an unusual state for the Atlantis leader. "I don't know if I've ever said this to you, but...thank you."
"For what?"
"For being different. Keeping your team-mates in check. Not being from Earth." Sam shrugs, as though trying to find words for something she can't describe.
Teyla studies Sam for a moment, while Tegan snuffles at her shoulder, wondering why his food is not materialising. "An odd thing to be thankful for."
But she thinks she understands. Sam has had more experience of an outsider view than most; in her work in the military and in the scientific fields, working on SG1 with Teal'c of the Jaffa Nation, as an outsider come to Atlantis and expected to step into the shoes of another leader, still missed.
"Maybe. And maybe not." Sam shrugs. "Thanks anyway."
Tegan bawls, then, and Teyla takes herself away to feed him.
But the gratitude warms her.
Re: part iii
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a pick-me-up. :)
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He doesn't.
He should feel like a fool as he pulls his t-shirt over his head with a jingle of dogtags and a lingering whiff of his own sweat.
But he doesn't.
His skin prickles with the cooler air, but his flesh is rapidly heating. The hairs on his arms and chest tighten as she circles him. Her fingers trace a line across the back of his shoulders, then slide coolly down his spine to slip just inside the waistband of his trousers.
His hair's already on end when her mouth presses softly against his nape, just below the chain of his tags - a warm point of reference in a coolly spinning sky. He fumbles with the belt, with the button, with the zipper.
He's already hardening, even before cool fingers slide darkly across his hipbone to take him in hand. Two points press against his back, the sweep of her hair falls silky against his shoulder, and the pulse of blood in his cock matches the thundering beat of his heart as her thumb trails the length of him to the tip.
He's not even fully out of his trousers yet.
He feels like a man waiting on a court-martial when she comes and stands before him, surveying him from crown to toes like a queen deciding if she'll keep a slave or throw him to the lions.
She had a man she loved; a man she chose from her own childhood, her own people. A man she lost to Michael and his machinations.
She never looked at John. Why would she?
She's looking now.
His hand reaches out, brushes lightly along lip and jaw and earlobe, and she smiles and steps in to him, lifting her mouth to his, threading her fingers through his hair.
And in her kiss, in her arms, John feels like he's the king of the universe.
(no subject)
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John teaching Teyla's child something from Earth.
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"I believe that John always intended to spend some time with you during this visit."
"Just not as much as he has since I asked you all to stay."
Within moments of John's arrival at the house, Dave realised that if he was going to see his brother at all during this 'downtime', he was going to have to endure the presence of the two strangers and the one not-quite-a-stranger who came with him.
It's been less stressful than he thought it would be.
Teyla Emmagan's mouth twitches a little. "You are much like your brother, Mr. Sheppard."
"I thought I asked you to call me Dave."
This time, her smile is full and broad, turned upon him without mercy. "You did."
"Is he regretting it?" In spite of himself the old bitterness slips out - old wounds not quite healed over by distance and time.
The look Ms. Emmagan gives him is measuring, thoughtful. Unlike Dr. McKay, who'll jabber on unaware that he's lost his audience, Ms. Emmagan picks her times to speak and her times to be silent.
"John's regrets are less to do with you, Mr. Sheppard, and more to do with the unfinished business between him and your father." She turns her face back to the window and closes her eyes against the sun. "He does not say it, but...I believe he is glad to be here."
Dave turns his face back to the window and stares out into the yard where John is pointing out the location of their old treehouse to a disbelieving McKay and an amused Dex.
He doesn't say it, but he's glad he invited John and his friends to stay.
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Heh.
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john reclaims his woman. john and teyla break up and she starts dating michael but john wants her back.
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Either about friendship or culture sharing. :)
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part i
Sam Carter knows how to blow up a sun, fly an F-16, write a program to calculate the red-shift differential to enable a Stargate to make an accurate connection in an expanding universe.
She doesn't know how to look after a baby.
She really doesn't know how she pulled this duty - or whether Sheppard decided to spring it on her as revenge for the last mission she sent him and his team on: the one involving the potential ZPM that somehow managed to acquire teenaged boys, a dinosaur cast that would make Spielberg's CGI group week, and slime. He was jiggling young Tegan up and down in the mess hall when she arrived, paused to talk, and was suddenly left holding the baby in a far too literal way.
Teyla's son looks up at her with a steady calm gaze. Accustomed to being passed around from person to person, he yawns widely and purses his small pink lips.
"It's all very well for you," she says, looking down at him. "But I've got a city to run."
Long lashes blink owlishly at her. What is a city compared to me? they seem to say.
Sam sighs and repositions him. She had an hour or two free and was going to run some of her own simulations - managing Atlantis hadn't exactly left her with too much time for her own studies - but it looks like that's not going to be an option.
Or, maybe...
"Okay, so, Tegan Emmagan, how do you feel about me telling you about the quasar over in sector 45-G-23 of your galaxy?"
Tegan burbles a spit bubble up at her and fingers her dog tags.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
tbc
part ii
part iii
Re: part iii
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(no subject)
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a pick-me-up. :)
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He doesn't.
He should feel like a fool as he pulls his t-shirt over his head with a jingle of dogtags and a lingering whiff of his own sweat.
But he doesn't.
His skin prickles with the cooler air, but his flesh is rapidly heating. The hairs on his arms and chest tighten as she circles him. Her fingers trace a line across the back of his shoulders, then slide coolly down his spine to slip just inside the waistband of his trousers.
His hair's already on end when her mouth presses softly against his nape, just below the chain of his tags - a warm point of reference in a coolly spinning sky. He fumbles with the belt, with the button, with the zipper.
He's already hardening, even before cool fingers slide darkly across his hipbone to take him in hand. Two points press against his back, the sweep of her hair falls silky against his shoulder, and the pulse of blood in his cock matches the thundering beat of his heart as her thumb trails the length of him to the tip.
He's not even fully out of his trousers yet.
He feels like a man waiting on a court-martial when she comes and stands before him, surveying him from crown to toes like a queen deciding if she'll keep a slave or throw him to the lions.
She had a man she loved; a man she chose from her own childhood, her own people. A man she lost to Michael and his machinations.
She never looked at John. Why would she?
She's looking now.
His hand reaches out, brushes lightly along lip and jaw and earlobe, and she smiles and steps in to him, lifting her mouth to his, threading her fingers through his hair.
And in her kiss, in her arms, John feels like he's the king of the universe.
(no subject)
no subject
John teaching Teyla's child something from Earth.
no subject
"I believe that John always intended to spend some time with you during this visit."
"Just not as much as he has since I asked you all to stay."
Within moments of John's arrival at the house, Dave realised that if he was going to see his brother at all during this 'downtime', he was going to have to endure the presence of the two strangers and the one not-quite-a-stranger who came with him.
It's been less stressful than he thought it would be.
Teyla Emmagan's mouth twitches a little. "You are much like your brother, Mr. Sheppard."
"I thought I asked you to call me Dave."
This time, her smile is full and broad, turned upon him without mercy. "You did."
"Is he regretting it?" In spite of himself the old bitterness slips out - old wounds not quite healed over by distance and time.
The look Ms. Emmagan gives him is measuring, thoughtful. Unlike Dr. McKay, who'll jabber on unaware that he's lost his audience, Ms. Emmagan picks her times to speak and her times to be silent.
"John's regrets are less to do with you, Mr. Sheppard, and more to do with the unfinished business between him and your father." She turns her face back to the window and closes her eyes against the sun. "He does not say it, but...I believe he is glad to be here."
Dave turns his face back to the window and stares out into the yard where John is pointing out the location of their old treehouse to a disbelieving McKay and an amused Dex.
He doesn't say it, but he's glad he invited John and his friends to stay.
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Heh.
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john reclaims his woman. john and teyla break up and she starts dating michael but john wants her back.
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Either about friendship or culture sharing. :)
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(no subject)
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