Fic: SGA: Teyla Catches On Quickly
Title: Teyla Catches On Quickly
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
Pairing: McShep (currently pre-slash)
Warnings: Schmoop, schoompity, schmoop schmoop, I tell you. Yes. Animal transformation, crack!fic, pre-slash. Other things that cause readers to go, "Aww."
Spoilers: Not really
Disclaimer: Not mine at all, sadly.
Unbeta'd. Also, I've had a short but intense stomach virus and actually dozed off a couple times, writing this. If there are large mistakes, please nudge me, okay?
Summary: Teyla is perceptive, athletic and not too shabby at interpreting Cat. She and John devise a new cat-approved workout. Rodney arrives in time to take a weary John away for catnappage, and Teyla is struck by an idea. It gives her the giggles.
Many thanks for all your kind comments over the last couple of days, guys. Feedback rocks, and you guys rock the feedback.
~~~
“Colonel Sheppard, I did not expect to see you.”
Teyla smiled, touched he had come at their usual training time. They’d made their apologies days ago, but she was concerned he would feel continued discomfort in her presence. The way Ronon behaved, as if he feared John, did not help matters.
He looked inside the practice room hesitantly, as if he was worried he was disturbing her. “Mow?”
“Please, come in,” Teyla said, using Rodney’s suggestion to respond to the Colonel’s tone.
He trotted across the floor to her, tail held high. Teyla knelt quickly so as not to tower over him. She held her hand out in greeting - another of Rodney’s suggestions - and John sniffed it politely, then pushed at her hand with his head.
“I am glad to see you, too, John. I have missed our training sessions.”
He pushed at her hand one last time, then explored the room, sniffing nearly everything. Sometimes he would rub his cheek against something, which must have been the territorial marking Rodney spoke about. She bowed her head momentarily, silently giving thanks.
Colonel Sheppard had so many responsibilities and shouldered them quite well, especially for a man used to more solitary service in flight. He took his duties very seriously, for all his casual demeanor. If he felt that this was a place where he could let those duties fall away, that if this room was something he thought as home territory, she was more than happy to share it.
“Brrt!” John ran over to the area where they stored the spare fighting sticks and various other training tools. He stood on his hind legs and pushed at some of the sticks with his paw, making them rattle faintly. He looked at her, an eager, expectant attitude in every line of his small body.
“I am not sure stick fighting is the best activity for you at the moment. Particularly since you do not have thumbs.”
“Mrrrer!” John replied scornfully.
“I am glad that you agree,” Teyla said calmly.
“Mrrr? Mryhee?” He trotted quickly to the door and looked at her expectantly, his tail curled over his head.
"Do not take my words as dismissal, please. You are more than welcome to stay."
"Maa!" He came to her and pushed his head against her knee. Then he walked to the door again and opened it.
"Mryhee?"
“You wish to go somewhere?”
“Mow!” John trotted back to her and nudged her knee with his head. “Mryhee?”
“And you wish me to accompany you?”
“Mow!” He said happily and rubbed his cheek on her hand, making a pleasant noise in his chest. She was unexpectedly touched by it.
“Are you purring? Rodney said that you might purr if you are content.” She reached out instinctively to stroke his ears and he arched his neck under the touch, looking very content indeed.
“Brrrt,” he said, trilling pleasantly and gazed at her, eyes wide and full of fun.
Teyla laughed aloud. “John Sheppard,” she said fondly, marveling at how much he looked like himself, his charm and easy manner masking deep affection and intelligence. The affection, however, was very rarely this apparent. “Now where would you like to go?”
Tail held high, John trotted to the door and opened it once more. “Brr?”
Teyla gestured for him to lead on.
He walked quickly and with purpose to the nearest transporter and opened that door as well. He stood aside for Teyla to enter, and once inside, commanded it where he wanted it to go.
“You have a plan, Colonel,” she noted as they left the transporter.
“Meeer” John replied modestly.
“Have you ever fooled me with that tone?” she teased.
He ignored her and cantered a few meters ahead, looked down the hallway and ran back. They were nearing the area where Dr. Heightmeyer had her office.
“Are we almost there?”
“Mow.”
“Are we going to therapy?”
“Meeeer.” he complained cheerfully. "Mow. Mow." Teyla delighted to see him so happy.
Kate’s office was open, and John ran ahead of her and through the door, calling a greeting.
“Hello, Colonel,” Teyla heard Dr. Heightmeyer say. Reaching the doorway, she cleared her throat politely.
“Teyla,” the doctor said pleasantly. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Doctor. I have been brought by Colonel Sheppard for some mysterious purpose.”
“Oh, really?” She glanced at John, who was sitting in the middle of her desk. “What’s up?”
John padded forward and crouched at the edge of the desk, extending one paw down where Teyla could not see.
“Oh,” Kate said, “I know what you want.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a small, red ball. It jingled faintly.
“What is that?” Teyla asked.
The doctor grinned. “Something fun. Please shut the door?
Teyla touched the door panel.
“John,” Dr. Heightmeyer said, humor lighting her face, “Go long.”
Colonel Sheppard leapt off the desk, ran halfway across the office and turned, just as Kate threw the ball toward him. He made a spectacular vertical leap and batted it toward Teyla, who caught it reflexively and grinned.
She tossed it back to him, and this time, he caught it and trotted back toward her, kicking it until it rested between her feet. John sat in front of her, tail demurely curled, and waited.
“I think this is an excellent substitute,” she agreed solemnly.
“Mow!” John replied, retrieving the ball with his paw. He took it for celebratory lap around the office, the bells inside it jingling furiously.
“Substitute for what?” the doctor asked.
“Our usual training in stick fighting.”
“Mmm,” Kate replied, watching John flatten himself to the floor to stalk the ball. “Will it be enough of a workout for you?”
“That is not my focus today. Colonel Sheppard is becoming quite proficient and a worthy opponent, but today I look forward to learning from him... I am just glad that…” she spread her hands helplessly, joy and concern choking her words. “I am just glad.”
Kate smiled encouragingly. “I am, too. I wasn’t sure if he’d be comfortable playing like this in front of anyone.”
“I am doubly honored, then. Do you wish some assistance, Colonel?” John was peering under the doctor’s appointment chair, where the ball seemed to have rolled. He lay flat on the floor and reached under it with a paw.
“Maa,” he said calmly, wiggling to reach further under the chair. Eventually he sagged and looked up at her. “Meer?”
“Of course.” She knelt down and retrieved the ball with the aid of one of Dr. Heightmeyer’s notepads.
“We should head back to our training room, so that we will not disturb the doctor further.”
John nosed the ball toward Teyla, making it clear he wanted her to carry it. She pocketed the ball and he made a small sound that seemed like an apology.
“I am sure it is difficult without all those pockets your people insist upon,” Teyla observed slyly.
John twitched his ears at her, his tail waving back and forth.
“I think he’s rolling his eyes at you. At least that’s how I interpret the gesture,” Dr. Heightmeyer said.
“Come, Colonel, our time passes and we must devise our training.”
“Cats are very acrobatic, so be sure and include some jumps for him.”
“Maaa,” John complained, jumping up on Kate’s desk. He pressed his head briefly against the doctor’s shoulder and allowed her to stroke his neck and back. He purred loudly.
“After that jump you just made, it could hardly be a surprise,” the doctor said teasingly, blushing slightly.
He grumbled a little and buffeted her shoulder again, then hopped off the desk. “Mee?” he asked Teyla.
“I am ready.” Teyla opened the door, exchanging a smile with Kate as John eagerly ran ahead.
“This is very kind of you, Teyla.”
“It will be a pleasure. John is a dear friend.” With a friendly nod, Teyla hurried after her team leader.
“Colonel,” she called, “I believe I have an idea.”
John waited for her at the transporter, tail held high and nearly bouncing with excitement.
“You are like the young ones; so excited for an outing that they burn their energy before the first turning in the path. “
“Mowr!” And yet he walked in a sedate and dignified manner to the practice room, once again opening the door for her in the manner of earth gentle men and allowing her to enter first. She suppressed a smile.
Twenty minutes later, they were ready to begin in earnest. Teyla had folded and stacked some of the protective mats into structures that John could jump on or - with enough speed - over. Several fighting sticks formed a kind of bridge or obstacle for him and Teyla had one of the children’s beginner sticks in her hand to use as a bat and a wide, flat plastic disk John had encouraged her to borrow from another training room.
John ran to the opposite side of the room and crouched down, waiting for her signal.
She held the small, red ball in her hand. “Begin!” she said firmly, and John launched himself into the air.
It was an exhilarating half-hour. The object was for Teyla to throw the ball and John to return it, airborne, back to Teyla. If he was unable to hit the ball back to her, he had to use his new skills and agility to get it past her and through the “goal” she had created with mats on her end of the room.
John’s flexibility and speed in this form were truly impressive and Teyla found it necessary to push herself to return the ball to him in a way that would be challenging. She watched him for signs of fatigue, and called a halt for the day when his leaps became a bit lower and his ears drooped a little. He flopped himself gratefully on a stack of mats.
Teyla was pleasantly warm and slightly winded, her hair clinging damply to her cheeks as she retrieved her towel and water. She sat on the mat next to John, sprawled limply, the now still and silent ball held in place by one curled paw. His tail twitched in a tired way, twice, as she joined him.
“That,” Teyla said, wiping her face and neck. “was most enjoyable.”
John rolled to his side and softly batted the ball at her. It jingled as it came to a stop next to her thigh.
“I believe I will be hearing those bells in my dreams tonight. Are they to attract a cat’s attention?”
“Mow,” John replied dreamily, rolling on to his back and closing his eyes. His paws dangled rather comically above him. It was the most relaxed Teyla had ever seen the Colonel. She fought the urge to rub his stomach where his fur was longer and looked quite soft. It seemed far too familiar a gesture.
John sighed happily, his eyes still closed.
“Are you thirsty, John?” Teyla asked.
He twisted his upper body and looked at her, his posture more comical than ever. Teyla bit back a smile. She began to understand why the expedition had made such a ridiculous fuss over Colonel Sheppard when he first appeared as a cat; in this form he seemed a creature made to be fussed over and pampered, though he was quite strong, skilled and capable. He just looked so soft, and his contented vocalizations were quite soothing.
She wondered what it was about this animal - this domesticated animal - that was to represent and guide John’s spirit. She wished that she could ask him what cats meant to him. If he had shared his life with one, as Rodney had.
It seemed that as a cat, John was forced to rely on his friends, must allow them to help him, in ways that he would not have dreamed of asking before. In order to communicate, he had to make himself very clear and direct, which to someone who had difficulty revealing himself at times, must be horrifying. And for Rodney McKay to be his chief interpreter…
A paw on her leg brought her out of her reverie. “Mow?” John asked, seeming hopeful.
“Yes, water. Let me see what I can do.” Teyla rose and searched through the various baskets of items in the room, and came up with a small shallow, clean saucer that could be used for incense, but clearly had not. She poured John a generous measure as he watched her - still in his prone position - his head turned so that his view of the room was upside down.
He stretched hard, even his toes (a gesture Teyla found completely charming), and one of his front paws brushed her wrist. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but when she looked up, he had a pleasant, relaxed expression.
Rolling gracefully, he rose and lapped water from the saucer. Teyla rested and sipped from her bottle, only looking up when she heard the door open.
“There you are,” Rodney said to John, not sounding irritated at all. “Wow, did you have cat steeplechase in here or something?”
Teyla raised her eyebrows, “Steeplechase?”
“Obstacle course.” He looked down at John, smiling. “So, good workout? Looks like you made Teyla break a sweat for once.” He looked up at Teyla, suddenly stricken with embarrassment. “An amazingly attractive warrior-like sweat,” he amended.
Teyla inclined her head with grave amusement.
“Mowwww,” John replied emphatically and threw himself on the mat with a thump. He rolled to his back again, seeming to offer Rodney his belly, a surprisingly vulnerable gesture. He twisted until he was looking at Rodney from upside down, and reached a paw out to him.
To her astonishment, Rodney sat on the other end of the mat and stroked his soft fur. “You look like you’ll need a nap before lunch.”
John yawned and closed his eyes contentedly.
“I didn’t mean now. Literalist,” he huffed, still patting him, great affection in his voice. John didn’t budge. “How long did you two work out?” he asked Teyla.
“Almost an hour, on the Colonel’s part, I would say. We trained here, hard, for a half hour, but he spent a great deal of time running before that; excitement I think. When we went to Dr. Heightmeyer’s office to retrieve John’s ball, he would run down the hall and then back…”
Rodney held up a hand. “Excuse me, his what?”
Teyla looked around, patting their mat bench, then found the ball from under a fold of her skirt. “This.”
Rodney took it from her fingers gently and looked at it from all sides. “I’ll be dammed,” he said. “Who made this?” He shook it, making it jingle.
“Kate Heightmeyer, I presume.”
“Huh. Very intelligent of her,” he said, only slightly grudging.
“She was the one who gave me the idea for this game. When we were in her office, she had John run away from her, what did she say, ‘Go long?’ John ran and she threw the ball to him. His ability to jump is quite impressive.
“Huh,” he said again, looking more pleased. “I wonder where she got the bells.”
“I think I will be hearing those bells the rest of the day,” Teyla confided. “And into the night.”
Rodney chuckled. “That’s nothing. My cat on Earth used to find the noisy toys at 3 o’clock in the morning and go berserk, sending them ricocheting all over my apartment." He handed the ball back to her firmly. "Don't want a repeat of that."
Between them, John snored a small, delicate snore. Rodney’s face lit up with a grin, and Teyla covered her mouth to prevent herself from laughing aloud.
“I would never say anything to him,” Teyla whispered, “but this form is completely…” She shrugged, unable to find the correct word. “I want to rub the fur on his stomach, very much, which is very inappropriate, but, he’s just so…”
“Adorable? Cute? Cuddly?” Rodney whispered back, looking like a man whose willpower was regularly tested.
”Yes,” Teyla said fervently.
John, still sleeping, made a groaning little noise and curled up in a ball, his paws over his nose.
Rodney rolled his eyes and stroked the back of his head.
Not budging, John said warningly, “Brrt!”
Seeing the enchanted look on Rodney’s face, the hairs on her arms and neck rose like when in music there was, for a moment, perfect harmony. She shivered slightly, shaken by the joy of her thoughts.
Teyla Emmagen knew exactly why the Gatan device had made John a small, black predator, needing to connect with others to thrive, the loss of his sometimes clumsy words of necessity demanding the freedom to act out his affections, and his grace, strength and humility easily visible. This was the proper form for the spirit of John Sheppard, instead of a fierce flying creature soaring above the ocean and holding himself apart from others, excepting the small family he strove to protect.
She smiled to herself, imagining what Rodney might have turned into, because only her two beloved friends would need a lesson this drastic in order to know themselves. John, still sleeping, made an ungraceful snort, pushing the smile into a laugh beyond her control. Rodney looked at her, confused, but willing to join in and she leaned forward, mastering her laughter, to grasp his shoulders.
“I am grateful,” she said seriously, her voice still slightly breathless, “to have such friends as you.” She pressed her forehead against his for a long moment, until Rodney’s surprise eased and his breathing evened out. Teyla pulled away, smiling.
Blushing furiously, but not at all displeased, Rodney asked. “What was that for?”
Teyla changed her position on the mat, tucking her feet underneath her and arranging her skirt to allow Rodney a moment to regain his composure; he could be so undone by an affectionate gesture.
“I have had a delightful morning and am grateful to have two such men as my friends.”
“Oh, well.” Rodney’s blush did not subside, but spread down his neck. “Um, I am too. And John, I’m sure. To have you…and J-Sheppard and…of course that great lummox Ronon. I’ve never…except for when my sister and I were…” his face fell, “But we don’t, we don’t….hey, you forgot to mention Ronon.”
“Rodney,” she teased him gently. “He may be out of the room, but not out of my thoughts. And thank you. You did not finish your thought, but…thank you.”
“I am so bad at this stuff.”
“You,” she said, reaching forward and smacking him on the arm, “are very wrong about that. You are a fine man whose thoughts trip his tongue near to breaking. Not every kind word must be perfectly phrased.”
Rodney made a noise both pleased and partially wishing to argue the point, but from the mat below, John woke, squeaking as he stretched. Teyla glanced to see if he stretched his toes again and pointed it out to Rodney. They shared a moment of silent glee.
John looked up at them, slightly disgruntled.
“Of course we were talking about you,” Rodney said, aiming badly for his normal snapping tone.
“I am astounded by your leaping ability and your newfound flexibility has me red with jealousy.”
“Green,” Rodney corrected.
“Green,” Teyla said firmly, nodding.
John looked at Teyla’s face, then Rodney’s, clearly believing they had lost their minds during his nap.
“Hey, sleepy, why don’t we go find a snack or something? I’m starving. Of course, Teyla, you can…”
“I must do a few things before midday. I will join you another time.”
Rolling to his feet, John demurely washed his ears and licked his paw several times, a nervous-seeming gesture. He walked in front of her, placed his front paws on her crossed ankles and looked up into her face.
“Prrrrb, prrrrt?” he said tentatively. He wasn’t quite looking her in the eye, which was odd. He seemed to be staring at her…hair? She brushed a lock off her forehead.
“I am sorry, I don’t understand.”
He shifted from one paw to the other for a moment, then reached one up toward her face as if trying to point to something.
“Prrt?”
“Oh!” Rodney said, “Lean down so that your face is close to his. He wants to do something.”
She looked questioningly at Rodney, and then back into the wide green eyes of John Sheppard. She bent her neck.
Teyla gasped when John pressed his forehead to hers, his purring loud in her ears. Instinctively, she reached out to clasp his shoulders, and ended up stroking his sides slowly. They remained there a moment, Teyla struggling with the unexpected sweetness of it. As long as she had known him, John Sheppard had never initiated this gesture.
She felt him wobble a little, balanced unevenly on her ankles and pulled away gently. “Thank you, John,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.
He blinked slowly at her, bent his head and wiggled his nose under her hand, affectionately teasing her into one last pat. She laughed, still shaken, more undone than Rodney had been by her words moments ago.
“That’s how cats greet others that they really, really like. Press foreheads.” Rodney gently bumped his fists together, miming the gesture.
“Truly?” Teyla asked, then laughed, her eyes threatening to fill again. “Then they are quite definitely my favorite creatures.”
"Mine, too," Rodney said softly, as he stood. “Come on Catsanova, let’s go before I get all mushy.” He smiled shyly at Teyla and scooped John up, deftly giving him a boost to his shoulder.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Dr. McKay,” she replied formally, inclining her head. “Colonel Sheppard.”
“Mow,” John added, equally dignified.
Gracing her with one last shyly happy smile, Rodney departed, John riding his shoulders easily. She watched them go, head resting on her knees, a secret, delighted smile warming her through and through.
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
Pairing: McShep (currently pre-slash)
Warnings: Schmoop, schoompity, schmoop schmoop, I tell you. Yes. Animal transformation, crack!fic, pre-slash. Other things that cause readers to go, "Aww."
Spoilers: Not really
Disclaimer: Not mine at all, sadly.
Unbeta'd. Also, I've had a short but intense stomach virus and actually dozed off a couple times, writing this. If there are large mistakes, please nudge me, okay?
Summary: Teyla is perceptive, athletic and not too shabby at interpreting Cat. She and John devise a new cat-approved workout. Rodney arrives in time to take a weary John away for catnappage, and Teyla is struck by an idea. It gives her the giggles.
Many thanks for all your kind comments over the last couple of days, guys. Feedback rocks, and you guys rock the feedback.
~~~
“Colonel Sheppard, I did not expect to see you.”
Teyla smiled, touched he had come at their usual training time. They’d made their apologies days ago, but she was concerned he would feel continued discomfort in her presence. The way Ronon behaved, as if he feared John, did not help matters.
He looked inside the practice room hesitantly, as if he was worried he was disturbing her. “Mow?”
“Please, come in,” Teyla said, using Rodney’s suggestion to respond to the Colonel’s tone.
He trotted across the floor to her, tail held high. Teyla knelt quickly so as not to tower over him. She held her hand out in greeting - another of Rodney’s suggestions - and John sniffed it politely, then pushed at her hand with his head.
“I am glad to see you, too, John. I have missed our training sessions.”
He pushed at her hand one last time, then explored the room, sniffing nearly everything. Sometimes he would rub his cheek against something, which must have been the territorial marking Rodney spoke about. She bowed her head momentarily, silently giving thanks.
Colonel Sheppard had so many responsibilities and shouldered them quite well, especially for a man used to more solitary service in flight. He took his duties very seriously, for all his casual demeanor. If he felt that this was a place where he could let those duties fall away, that if this room was something he thought as home territory, she was more than happy to share it.
“Brrt!” John ran over to the area where they stored the spare fighting sticks and various other training tools. He stood on his hind legs and pushed at some of the sticks with his paw, making them rattle faintly. He looked at her, an eager, expectant attitude in every line of his small body.
“I am not sure stick fighting is the best activity for you at the moment. Particularly since you do not have thumbs.”
“Mrrrer!” John replied scornfully.
“I am glad that you agree,” Teyla said calmly.
“Mrrr? Mryhee?” He trotted quickly to the door and looked at her expectantly, his tail curled over his head.
"Do not take my words as dismissal, please. You are more than welcome to stay."
"Maa!" He came to her and pushed his head against her knee. Then he walked to the door again and opened it.
"Mryhee?"
“You wish to go somewhere?”
“Mow!” John trotted back to her and nudged her knee with his head. “Mryhee?”
“And you wish me to accompany you?”
“Mow!” He said happily and rubbed his cheek on her hand, making a pleasant noise in his chest. She was unexpectedly touched by it.
“Are you purring? Rodney said that you might purr if you are content.” She reached out instinctively to stroke his ears and he arched his neck under the touch, looking very content indeed.
“Brrrt,” he said, trilling pleasantly and gazed at her, eyes wide and full of fun.
Teyla laughed aloud. “John Sheppard,” she said fondly, marveling at how much he looked like himself, his charm and easy manner masking deep affection and intelligence. The affection, however, was very rarely this apparent. “Now where would you like to go?”
Tail held high, John trotted to the door and opened it once more. “Brr?”
Teyla gestured for him to lead on.
He walked quickly and with purpose to the nearest transporter and opened that door as well. He stood aside for Teyla to enter, and once inside, commanded it where he wanted it to go.
“You have a plan, Colonel,” she noted as they left the transporter.
“Meeer” John replied modestly.
“Have you ever fooled me with that tone?” she teased.
He ignored her and cantered a few meters ahead, looked down the hallway and ran back. They were nearing the area where Dr. Heightmeyer had her office.
“Are we almost there?”
“Mow.”
“Are we going to therapy?”
“Meeeer.” he complained cheerfully. "Mow. Mow." Teyla delighted to see him so happy.
Kate’s office was open, and John ran ahead of her and through the door, calling a greeting.
“Hello, Colonel,” Teyla heard Dr. Heightmeyer say. Reaching the doorway, she cleared her throat politely.
“Teyla,” the doctor said pleasantly. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Doctor. I have been brought by Colonel Sheppard for some mysterious purpose.”
“Oh, really?” She glanced at John, who was sitting in the middle of her desk. “What’s up?”
John padded forward and crouched at the edge of the desk, extending one paw down where Teyla could not see.
“Oh,” Kate said, “I know what you want.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a small, red ball. It jingled faintly.
“What is that?” Teyla asked.
The doctor grinned. “Something fun. Please shut the door?
Teyla touched the door panel.
“John,” Dr. Heightmeyer said, humor lighting her face, “Go long.”
Colonel Sheppard leapt off the desk, ran halfway across the office and turned, just as Kate threw the ball toward him. He made a spectacular vertical leap and batted it toward Teyla, who caught it reflexively and grinned.
She tossed it back to him, and this time, he caught it and trotted back toward her, kicking it until it rested between her feet. John sat in front of her, tail demurely curled, and waited.
“I think this is an excellent substitute,” she agreed solemnly.
“Mow!” John replied, retrieving the ball with his paw. He took it for celebratory lap around the office, the bells inside it jingling furiously.
“Substitute for what?” the doctor asked.
“Our usual training in stick fighting.”
“Mmm,” Kate replied, watching John flatten himself to the floor to stalk the ball. “Will it be enough of a workout for you?”
“That is not my focus today. Colonel Sheppard is becoming quite proficient and a worthy opponent, but today I look forward to learning from him... I am just glad that…” she spread her hands helplessly, joy and concern choking her words. “I am just glad.”
Kate smiled encouragingly. “I am, too. I wasn’t sure if he’d be comfortable playing like this in front of anyone.”
“I am doubly honored, then. Do you wish some assistance, Colonel?” John was peering under the doctor’s appointment chair, where the ball seemed to have rolled. He lay flat on the floor and reached under it with a paw.
“Maa,” he said calmly, wiggling to reach further under the chair. Eventually he sagged and looked up at her. “Meer?”
“Of course.” She knelt down and retrieved the ball with the aid of one of Dr. Heightmeyer’s notepads.
“We should head back to our training room, so that we will not disturb the doctor further.”
John nosed the ball toward Teyla, making it clear he wanted her to carry it. She pocketed the ball and he made a small sound that seemed like an apology.
“I am sure it is difficult without all those pockets your people insist upon,” Teyla observed slyly.
John twitched his ears at her, his tail waving back and forth.
“I think he’s rolling his eyes at you. At least that’s how I interpret the gesture,” Dr. Heightmeyer said.
“Come, Colonel, our time passes and we must devise our training.”
“Cats are very acrobatic, so be sure and include some jumps for him.”
“Maaa,” John complained, jumping up on Kate’s desk. He pressed his head briefly against the doctor’s shoulder and allowed her to stroke his neck and back. He purred loudly.
“After that jump you just made, it could hardly be a surprise,” the doctor said teasingly, blushing slightly.
He grumbled a little and buffeted her shoulder again, then hopped off the desk. “Mee?” he asked Teyla.
“I am ready.” Teyla opened the door, exchanging a smile with Kate as John eagerly ran ahead.
“This is very kind of you, Teyla.”
“It will be a pleasure. John is a dear friend.” With a friendly nod, Teyla hurried after her team leader.
“Colonel,” she called, “I believe I have an idea.”
John waited for her at the transporter, tail held high and nearly bouncing with excitement.
“You are like the young ones; so excited for an outing that they burn their energy before the first turning in the path. “
“Mowr!” And yet he walked in a sedate and dignified manner to the practice room, once again opening the door for her in the manner of earth gentle men and allowing her to enter first. She suppressed a smile.
Twenty minutes later, they were ready to begin in earnest. Teyla had folded and stacked some of the protective mats into structures that John could jump on or - with enough speed - over. Several fighting sticks formed a kind of bridge or obstacle for him and Teyla had one of the children’s beginner sticks in her hand to use as a bat and a wide, flat plastic disk John had encouraged her to borrow from another training room.
John ran to the opposite side of the room and crouched down, waiting for her signal.
She held the small, red ball in her hand. “Begin!” she said firmly, and John launched himself into the air.
It was an exhilarating half-hour. The object was for Teyla to throw the ball and John to return it, airborne, back to Teyla. If he was unable to hit the ball back to her, he had to use his new skills and agility to get it past her and through the “goal” she had created with mats on her end of the room.
John’s flexibility and speed in this form were truly impressive and Teyla found it necessary to push herself to return the ball to him in a way that would be challenging. She watched him for signs of fatigue, and called a halt for the day when his leaps became a bit lower and his ears drooped a little. He flopped himself gratefully on a stack of mats.
Teyla was pleasantly warm and slightly winded, her hair clinging damply to her cheeks as she retrieved her towel and water. She sat on the mat next to John, sprawled limply, the now still and silent ball held in place by one curled paw. His tail twitched in a tired way, twice, as she joined him.
“That,” Teyla said, wiping her face and neck. “was most enjoyable.”
John rolled to his side and softly batted the ball at her. It jingled as it came to a stop next to her thigh.
“I believe I will be hearing those bells in my dreams tonight. Are they to attract a cat’s attention?”
“Mow,” John replied dreamily, rolling on to his back and closing his eyes. His paws dangled rather comically above him. It was the most relaxed Teyla had ever seen the Colonel. She fought the urge to rub his stomach where his fur was longer and looked quite soft. It seemed far too familiar a gesture.
John sighed happily, his eyes still closed.
“Are you thirsty, John?” Teyla asked.
He twisted his upper body and looked at her, his posture more comical than ever. Teyla bit back a smile. She began to understand why the expedition had made such a ridiculous fuss over Colonel Sheppard when he first appeared as a cat; in this form he seemed a creature made to be fussed over and pampered, though he was quite strong, skilled and capable. He just looked so soft, and his contented vocalizations were quite soothing.
She wondered what it was about this animal - this domesticated animal - that was to represent and guide John’s spirit. She wished that she could ask him what cats meant to him. If he had shared his life with one, as Rodney had.
It seemed that as a cat, John was forced to rely on his friends, must allow them to help him, in ways that he would not have dreamed of asking before. In order to communicate, he had to make himself very clear and direct, which to someone who had difficulty revealing himself at times, must be horrifying. And for Rodney McKay to be his chief interpreter…
A paw on her leg brought her out of her reverie. “Mow?” John asked, seeming hopeful.
“Yes, water. Let me see what I can do.” Teyla rose and searched through the various baskets of items in the room, and came up with a small shallow, clean saucer that could be used for incense, but clearly had not. She poured John a generous measure as he watched her - still in his prone position - his head turned so that his view of the room was upside down.
He stretched hard, even his toes (a gesture Teyla found completely charming), and one of his front paws brushed her wrist. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but when she looked up, he had a pleasant, relaxed expression.
Rolling gracefully, he rose and lapped water from the saucer. Teyla rested and sipped from her bottle, only looking up when she heard the door open.
“There you are,” Rodney said to John, not sounding irritated at all. “Wow, did you have cat steeplechase in here or something?”
Teyla raised her eyebrows, “Steeplechase?”
“Obstacle course.” He looked down at John, smiling. “So, good workout? Looks like you made Teyla break a sweat for once.” He looked up at Teyla, suddenly stricken with embarrassment. “An amazingly attractive warrior-like sweat,” he amended.
Teyla inclined her head with grave amusement.
“Mowwww,” John replied emphatically and threw himself on the mat with a thump. He rolled to his back again, seeming to offer Rodney his belly, a surprisingly vulnerable gesture. He twisted until he was looking at Rodney from upside down, and reached a paw out to him.
To her astonishment, Rodney sat on the other end of the mat and stroked his soft fur. “You look like you’ll need a nap before lunch.”
John yawned and closed his eyes contentedly.
“I didn’t mean now. Literalist,” he huffed, still patting him, great affection in his voice. John didn’t budge. “How long did you two work out?” he asked Teyla.
“Almost an hour, on the Colonel’s part, I would say. We trained here, hard, for a half hour, but he spent a great deal of time running before that; excitement I think. When we went to Dr. Heightmeyer’s office to retrieve John’s ball, he would run down the hall and then back…”
Rodney held up a hand. “Excuse me, his what?”
Teyla looked around, patting their mat bench, then found the ball from under a fold of her skirt. “This.”
Rodney took it from her fingers gently and looked at it from all sides. “I’ll be dammed,” he said. “Who made this?” He shook it, making it jingle.
“Kate Heightmeyer, I presume.”
“Huh. Very intelligent of her,” he said, only slightly grudging.
“She was the one who gave me the idea for this game. When we were in her office, she had John run away from her, what did she say, ‘Go long?’ John ran and she threw the ball to him. His ability to jump is quite impressive.
“Huh,” he said again, looking more pleased. “I wonder where she got the bells.”
“I think I will be hearing those bells the rest of the day,” Teyla confided. “And into the night.”
Rodney chuckled. “That’s nothing. My cat on Earth used to find the noisy toys at 3 o’clock in the morning and go berserk, sending them ricocheting all over my apartment." He handed the ball back to her firmly. "Don't want a repeat of that."
Between them, John snored a small, delicate snore. Rodney’s face lit up with a grin, and Teyla covered her mouth to prevent herself from laughing aloud.
“I would never say anything to him,” Teyla whispered, “but this form is completely…” She shrugged, unable to find the correct word. “I want to rub the fur on his stomach, very much, which is very inappropriate, but, he’s just so…”
“Adorable? Cute? Cuddly?” Rodney whispered back, looking like a man whose willpower was regularly tested.
”Yes,” Teyla said fervently.
John, still sleeping, made a groaning little noise and curled up in a ball, his paws over his nose.
Rodney rolled his eyes and stroked the back of his head.
Not budging, John said warningly, “Brrt!”
Seeing the enchanted look on Rodney’s face, the hairs on her arms and neck rose like when in music there was, for a moment, perfect harmony. She shivered slightly, shaken by the joy of her thoughts.
Teyla Emmagen knew exactly why the Gatan device had made John a small, black predator, needing to connect with others to thrive, the loss of his sometimes clumsy words of necessity demanding the freedom to act out his affections, and his grace, strength and humility easily visible. This was the proper form for the spirit of John Sheppard, instead of a fierce flying creature soaring above the ocean and holding himself apart from others, excepting the small family he strove to protect.
She smiled to herself, imagining what Rodney might have turned into, because only her two beloved friends would need a lesson this drastic in order to know themselves. John, still sleeping, made an ungraceful snort, pushing the smile into a laugh beyond her control. Rodney looked at her, confused, but willing to join in and she leaned forward, mastering her laughter, to grasp his shoulders.
“I am grateful,” she said seriously, her voice still slightly breathless, “to have such friends as you.” She pressed her forehead against his for a long moment, until Rodney’s surprise eased and his breathing evened out. Teyla pulled away, smiling.
Blushing furiously, but not at all displeased, Rodney asked. “What was that for?”
Teyla changed her position on the mat, tucking her feet underneath her and arranging her skirt to allow Rodney a moment to regain his composure; he could be so undone by an affectionate gesture.
“I have had a delightful morning and am grateful to have two such men as my friends.”
“Oh, well.” Rodney’s blush did not subside, but spread down his neck. “Um, I am too. And John, I’m sure. To have you…and J-Sheppard and…of course that great lummox Ronon. I’ve never…except for when my sister and I were…” his face fell, “But we don’t, we don’t….hey, you forgot to mention Ronon.”
“Rodney,” she teased him gently. “He may be out of the room, but not out of my thoughts. And thank you. You did not finish your thought, but…thank you.”
“I am so bad at this stuff.”
“You,” she said, reaching forward and smacking him on the arm, “are very wrong about that. You are a fine man whose thoughts trip his tongue near to breaking. Not every kind word must be perfectly phrased.”
Rodney made a noise both pleased and partially wishing to argue the point, but from the mat below, John woke, squeaking as he stretched. Teyla glanced to see if he stretched his toes again and pointed it out to Rodney. They shared a moment of silent glee.
John looked up at them, slightly disgruntled.
“Of course we were talking about you,” Rodney said, aiming badly for his normal snapping tone.
“I am astounded by your leaping ability and your newfound flexibility has me red with jealousy.”
“Green,” Rodney corrected.
“Green,” Teyla said firmly, nodding.
John looked at Teyla’s face, then Rodney’s, clearly believing they had lost their minds during his nap.
“Hey, sleepy, why don’t we go find a snack or something? I’m starving. Of course, Teyla, you can…”
“I must do a few things before midday. I will join you another time.”
Rolling to his feet, John demurely washed his ears and licked his paw several times, a nervous-seeming gesture. He walked in front of her, placed his front paws on her crossed ankles and looked up into her face.
“Prrrrb, prrrrt?” he said tentatively. He wasn’t quite looking her in the eye, which was odd. He seemed to be staring at her…hair? She brushed a lock off her forehead.
“I am sorry, I don’t understand.”
He shifted from one paw to the other for a moment, then reached one up toward her face as if trying to point to something.
“Prrt?”
“Oh!” Rodney said, “Lean down so that your face is close to his. He wants to do something.”
She looked questioningly at Rodney, and then back into the wide green eyes of John Sheppard. She bent her neck.
Teyla gasped when John pressed his forehead to hers, his purring loud in her ears. Instinctively, she reached out to clasp his shoulders, and ended up stroking his sides slowly. They remained there a moment, Teyla struggling with the unexpected sweetness of it. As long as she had known him, John Sheppard had never initiated this gesture.
She felt him wobble a little, balanced unevenly on her ankles and pulled away gently. “Thank you, John,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.
He blinked slowly at her, bent his head and wiggled his nose under her hand, affectionately teasing her into one last pat. She laughed, still shaken, more undone than Rodney had been by her words moments ago.
“That’s how cats greet others that they really, really like. Press foreheads.” Rodney gently bumped his fists together, miming the gesture.
“Truly?” Teyla asked, then laughed, her eyes threatening to fill again. “Then they are quite definitely my favorite creatures.”
"Mine, too," Rodney said softly, as he stood. “Come on Catsanova, let’s go before I get all mushy.” He smiled shyly at Teyla and scooped John up, deftly giving him a boost to his shoulder.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Dr. McKay,” she replied formally, inclining her head. “Colonel Sheppard.”
“Mow,” John added, equally dignified.
Gracing her with one last shyly happy smile, Rodney departed, John riding his shoulders easily. She watched them go, head resting on her knees, a secret, delighted smile warming her through and through.