fic: Changes - PG-13 [Teyla]
FANDOM: Stargate Atlantis
TITLE: Changes
CATEGORY: vignette
RATING: PG-13
WORDCOUNT: ~1000
NOTES: First scene meme - give me a fandom, two characters, and a first line and I'll write the opening scene of a fic. For artaxastra, who wanted SGA, Teyla, possibly Teyla/John "She'd never before had the slightest interest in listening to David Bowie." It's not quite what I was hoping to achieve, though...
Changes
I... I will be king
And you, You will be queen
She'd never before had the slightest interest in listening to David Bowie.
At first, there were far too many things to be done in Atlantis - from learning about her new allies, to trading on behalf of both her people and the Lanteans, from navigating the delicate political strata of both Atlantis and the peoples of Pegasus, to bringing up her son.
Two months on Earth, 'grounded' as the Lanteans would say, changed that.
As it changed many other things.
Earth was a fascinating place - so full of people, of life, of living. And yet, living in it as though she was a native of America, with no thought of survival or the Wraith or the question of the next day's food, Teyla found it isolating and lonely.
Ronon, at least, had been growing a closer acquaintance with Amelia Banks. Rodney had been getting over his fear of Keller's father. And John had taken the time to renew his relationship with his brother.
At the start, Teyla had found solace in the music.
Facing windows open to the dawning sun, Teyla lifted her arms up either side of her, stretching them over her head before rolling herself down her spine and letting her body hang from the hips. Slowly, with careful concentration, she rolled herself up again until she was standing straight and tall, muscles quivering with delicate control.
Though nothing will
Drive them away
She had been surprised at the degree of willing collusion she had encountered among the Lanteans. Rodney had been more than a little angry at her expressed astonishment. "What, you think we'd just up and leave you?"
There was no tactful way of pointing out that the expedition had done so before, or that the right of claiming was easier argued in possession; Teyla had kept silent and let John do the answering. "It wouldn't be the first time, Rodney."
"That wasn't us - that was the IOA."
"Do you really think that makes a difference?"
It took a lot of planning, some looking the other way by certain members of Homeworld Security and Stargate Command, an 'unexpected' drive malfunction on the Apollo, and a hair-raising ride through something that was neither normal space nor subspace, nor even the wormholes used by the Stargate, but which Radek attempted to explain only to give up when Teyla told him that the equations mattered less than that he had solved them.
Her lower back protests a little as she slides into a split, balancing herself with precise care before using her fingertips to balance her as she leans down over her front leg. Her flexibility has never been quite the same since Torran's birth; what once came so easily is more difficult now.
Many things are more difficult now.
We can beat them
Just for one day
John had been both ally and salvation during that time on Earth when she had not known if the city would be returning to its rightful position in Pegasus, when she had not known if she would ever see her son again.
When the curiosities of Earth had died down, and Teyla had been left wondering what came next, John had been distraction and encouragement, tour guide and cultural advisor, companion and friend.
"We'll work this out," had, over the course of two months, changed to, "We'll do something about it," and then moved to, "We'll take it back," when it became clear the IOA had no intention of permitting Atlantis to return to Pegasus.
Teyla balances on one leg, then carefuly leans her body forward as her back arches so her hands can take hold of the leg she lifts up behind her head to pull herself into a stretching exercise that is as much about balance as it is about muscle strength.
They worked it out, did something about it, took it back. And if they live leaner without the beneficence of Earth and the Earth Lanteans struggle with questions of self-identity in the absence of their accustomed anchorage, Teyla is secretly glad that the city is free of Earth's strictures.
The music forms a space around her - enclosing her in a bubble of sound into which others may venture should they choose. Few do.
We can be Heroes
Just for one day
She hears his footsteps as she sits with her spine straight, her legs out in front of her, knees bent, feet together. There is a briskness to his tread that she recognises easily, and so does not open her eyes even when he crouches down before her.
"David Bowie?"
"It is relaxing." Then, thinking of his other musics, her mouth curves. "Unusual."
"That's one way of putting it," he says dryly.
There's a silence, then air whispers past her cheek and his mouth tastes the smile on her lips, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder to give him balance. Yet when he breaks it off, he asks, "Why don't Ladon and those guys like our music?"
Now her eyes open, both surprised at the change of topic and a little piqued that he should be thinking of mundanities while kissing her. "You do not ask the expected questions, John."
"Probably because I know the expected answers," he says with a shrug and a smirk.
She is tempted not to answer, but the curiosity is there; he will only ask another time.
"Your music is very passive. Our musics integrate the audience into the experience - to enjoy music is to be part of it, not merely to hear it performed." The experience of merely listening is a flat one to Teyla and the other Pegasus Lanteans. She has grown familiar with it, accepts it as background noise, but it is not music.
"Experiential."
"Yes."
"But you don't mind listening to it."
This time she keeps a straight face, even as she quips, "I am accustomed to your people's strange and primitive ways, John."
One dark brow lifts, and the expression that is part-surprise, part-smirk draws across his features. "Well, that's probably a good thing." As he leans in towards her, the open door to her meditation space slides closed with a click that makes her breath catch in anticipation. "Because, David Bowie or not, I've got the urge to do strange and primitive things to you now that you're all relaxed..."
Many things have changed.
'Cause we're lovers
And that is a fact
Yes we're lovers
And that is that
TITLE: Changes
CATEGORY: vignette
RATING: PG-13
WORDCOUNT: ~1000
NOTES: First scene meme - give me a fandom, two characters, and a first line and I'll write the opening scene of a fic. For artaxastra, who wanted SGA, Teyla, possibly Teyla/John "She'd never before had the slightest interest in listening to David Bowie." It's not quite what I was hoping to achieve, though...
Changes
I... I will be king
And you, You will be queen
She'd never before had the slightest interest in listening to David Bowie.
At first, there were far too many things to be done in Atlantis - from learning about her new allies, to trading on behalf of both her people and the Lanteans, from navigating the delicate political strata of both Atlantis and the peoples of Pegasus, to bringing up her son.
Two months on Earth, 'grounded' as the Lanteans would say, changed that.
As it changed many other things.
Earth was a fascinating place - so full of people, of life, of living. And yet, living in it as though she was a native of America, with no thought of survival or the Wraith or the question of the next day's food, Teyla found it isolating and lonely.
Ronon, at least, had been growing a closer acquaintance with Amelia Banks. Rodney had been getting over his fear of Keller's father. And John had taken the time to renew his relationship with his brother.
At the start, Teyla had found solace in the music.
Facing windows open to the dawning sun, Teyla lifted her arms up either side of her, stretching them over her head before rolling herself down her spine and letting her body hang from the hips. Slowly, with careful concentration, she rolled herself up again until she was standing straight and tall, muscles quivering with delicate control.
Though nothing will
Drive them away
She had been surprised at the degree of willing collusion she had encountered among the Lanteans. Rodney had been more than a little angry at her expressed astonishment. "What, you think we'd just up and leave you?"
There was no tactful way of pointing out that the expedition had done so before, or that the right of claiming was easier argued in possession; Teyla had kept silent and let John do the answering. "It wouldn't be the first time, Rodney."
"That wasn't us - that was the IOA."
"Do you really think that makes a difference?"
It took a lot of planning, some looking the other way by certain members of Homeworld Security and Stargate Command, an 'unexpected' drive malfunction on the Apollo, and a hair-raising ride through something that was neither normal space nor subspace, nor even the wormholes used by the Stargate, but which Radek attempted to explain only to give up when Teyla told him that the equations mattered less than that he had solved them.
Her lower back protests a little as she slides into a split, balancing herself with precise care before using her fingertips to balance her as she leans down over her front leg. Her flexibility has never been quite the same since Torran's birth; what once came so easily is more difficult now.
Many things are more difficult now.
We can beat them
Just for one day
John had been both ally and salvation during that time on Earth when she had not known if the city would be returning to its rightful position in Pegasus, when she had not known if she would ever see her son again.
When the curiosities of Earth had died down, and Teyla had been left wondering what came next, John had been distraction and encouragement, tour guide and cultural advisor, companion and friend.
"We'll work this out," had, over the course of two months, changed to, "We'll do something about it," and then moved to, "We'll take it back," when it became clear the IOA had no intention of permitting Atlantis to return to Pegasus.
Teyla balances on one leg, then carefuly leans her body forward as her back arches so her hands can take hold of the leg she lifts up behind her head to pull herself into a stretching exercise that is as much about balance as it is about muscle strength.
They worked it out, did something about it, took it back. And if they live leaner without the beneficence of Earth and the Earth Lanteans struggle with questions of self-identity in the absence of their accustomed anchorage, Teyla is secretly glad that the city is free of Earth's strictures.
The music forms a space around her - enclosing her in a bubble of sound into which others may venture should they choose. Few do.
We can be Heroes
Just for one day
She hears his footsteps as she sits with her spine straight, her legs out in front of her, knees bent, feet together. There is a briskness to his tread that she recognises easily, and so does not open her eyes even when he crouches down before her.
"David Bowie?"
"It is relaxing." Then, thinking of his other musics, her mouth curves. "Unusual."
"That's one way of putting it," he says dryly.
There's a silence, then air whispers past her cheek and his mouth tastes the smile on her lips, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder to give him balance. Yet when he breaks it off, he asks, "Why don't Ladon and those guys like our music?"
Now her eyes open, both surprised at the change of topic and a little piqued that he should be thinking of mundanities while kissing her. "You do not ask the expected questions, John."
"Probably because I know the expected answers," he says with a shrug and a smirk.
She is tempted not to answer, but the curiosity is there; he will only ask another time.
"Your music is very passive. Our musics integrate the audience into the experience - to enjoy music is to be part of it, not merely to hear it performed." The experience of merely listening is a flat one to Teyla and the other Pegasus Lanteans. She has grown familiar with it, accepts it as background noise, but it is not music.
"Experiential."
"Yes."
"But you don't mind listening to it."
This time she keeps a straight face, even as she quips, "I am accustomed to your people's strange and primitive ways, John."
One dark brow lifts, and the expression that is part-surprise, part-smirk draws across his features. "Well, that's probably a good thing." As he leans in towards her, the open door to her meditation space slides closed with a click that makes her breath catch in anticipation. "Because, David Bowie or not, I've got the urge to do strange and primitive things to you now that you're all relaxed..."
Many things have changed.
'Cause we're lovers
And that is a fact
Yes we're lovers
And that is that