helsinkibaby (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
helsinkibaby) wrote2005-06-01 10:51 pm
helsinkibaby) wrote2005-06-01 10:51 pm
Entry tags:
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Title: Faraway Fields
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Beckett/Teyla
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Notes: For the Beckett ficathon : Azar wanted the following - Beckett/Teyla or
Beckett/Heightmeyer, Beckett has an opportunity to return home to Earth but
decides to stay, Beckett speaks Gaelic
“There y’are… I’ve been lookin’ for you…”
The words have left Carson’s lips before his brain registers the sight before him; Teyla, sitting on the floor, in the farthest corner of the exercise room, knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped around them. Too late he registers that she looks lost in thought, melancholy thought at that; too late he remembers that he’s just spent the last hour trawling the city, looking for her only to find that no-one had seen her, a feat in and of itself, something that should have told him that, wherever she was, she had no wish to be found.
He realises this all too late, only fitting the pieces together when she looks up to meet his gaze, and he sees a strange light burning in her eyes. It’s caught somewhere between anger and sadness, and it causes something in his stomach to twist painfully. “Teyla?” he asks, a world of questions held in her name as he takes a step towards her, arm extended. He wants to know what’s made her look like that, wants to make everything better, wants to sit down beside her and take her in his arms. She doesn’t give him the chance though, forcing an almost-natural-looking smile to her face.
“Doctor,” she says, and the chill in her voice could freeze water. “I was unaware that you were searching for me… how may I be of assistance?”
Carson blinks once, looks around him just to make sure that they are, as he thought, alone. A quick once-over of the room assures him that they are, moreover that the door slid shut when he entered. There is no-one who can hear them, no-one who can see them, so her aloofness makes little sense to him. “Teyla…” he says again, more curious than concerned now, taking another step towards her, alarm only growing when she side-steps him neatly.
“Doctor?” she asks, with a tilt of her head, a funny little lilt to her voice. “How many I help you?”
“Ye can stop sounding like a bloody how-to-speak-English book for starters,” he says, curiosity flaring into momentary anger. He feels instantly guilty, and would apologise, were it not for the flash of surprise, then amusement, that lights her face. Only for a brief instant though, then it vanishes into the darkness of her stony stare, but it’s enough to let him know that his Teyla is still in there somewhere, buried underneath the Athosian armour that he’s long heard his fellow team-mates complain about.
He doesn’t give her a chance to respond, deciding instead to press his advantage. “And when you’re finished wi’ that,” he says, making a conscious effort to keep his voice gentle, “Ye can tell me what’s the matter.”
An owlish blink is his initial reply. “There is nothing the matter,” she tells him, a barefaced lie if ever he’s heard one, and he’s only grateful that she didn’t tack on the word “Doctor” to the end of it. “I was not aware that you were looking for me.” She pauses for a brief second in which Carson opens his mouth to reply to that, but this time, she doesn’t give him a chance to get the words out before she says, “I imagined that you would be packing.”
The words are so quiet that, for a second, he’s sure he imagined them. When she looks down, he realises that he didn’t, and when he contrasts her mood with the excitement, the sheer giddiness, going on outside, things begin to fall into place.
“Teyla-” he begins, a smile in his lips, in his voice, but instead of relaxing her, as it usually does, her face twists as if in pain, and she turns away from him. When she speaks, her voice is carefully neutral – too controlled, he knows at once – and only the rigid line of her shoulders, the iron of her spine, betrays the pain she’s feeling.
“Major Sheppard is most excited,” she tells him. “He keeps saying that there is no place like home… something that seems to vex Doctor McKay…” Carson’s hands land on her shoulders, and she jumps, her voice hitching before she continues, “I did not know that the Major chose ruby slippers as a personal item…”
Despite the serious air in the room, Carson can’t stifle the burst of laughter that passes his lips, not until she turns her head to look at him and he sees pain mingled with wariness in her eyes. “Do I amuse you?” she asks, that cold tone back again, and he shakes his head, turning her around so that she’s facing him, bodies almost close enough to touch.
“Not at all love,” he tells her, hands ever so lightly resting on her shoulders. “It’s a reference to an Earth film, that’s all… where a girl was… transported to a magical land… and to return home, all she had to do was click her heels three times, repeating, ‘There’s no place like home’ while wearing a pair of ruby slippers…”
He’s still smiling, but she looks sad. “Another allusion that escapes me,” she murmurs, and he frowns, because she normally responds to any Earth reference with curiosity and enthused interest. It’s one of the things that he loves most about her, how they can sit and talk for hours as she asks him question after question about Earth, about where he grew up. He’s developed a similar interest in Athosian culture, loves to listen to her talk about her childhood, her family traditions. Conversation has never been a problem for them, which is why he’s so discombobulated now.
“We’ve got time,” he tells her, intending it to comforting, but a bitter smile touches her lips.
“My life, my home, is in the Pegasus galaxy,” she says. “Yours is on Earth. When you return there…”
“Teyla…” For the fourth time today, he starts a sentence with her name; for this first time today, he gets to finish it. “I’m not going back.”
The words hang in the air between them, shimmering like gossamer, like the light in her eyes when she processes them. The change is instant, her face irradiated by sheer joy, and he wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms, kiss her breathless, forget about the world beyond these four walls. Then the lights dim, wary caution taking over, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinises his face.
“Why would you wish to stay?” she demands, and if there’s a question in there, there’s an underlying current of belligerence there too. “You have family on Earth… do you not wish to see them?”
“Of course I do, love,” he tells her, not having to think twice about that. “But my work is here… on Atlantis. I’ve no plans to return to Stargate Command… I want to stay here.”
“Why? If there is no place like home…”
He chuckles, gives into his seconds-earlier impulse, moving his hands from her shoulders to her cheeks, bringing his lips to hers and pulling her into a kiss that he swears has the power to stop time. She resists for the briefest of seconds, then she kisses him back hungrily, winding her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his, and they kiss until the need for oxygen becomes overpowering. Then he pulls back, rests his forehead against hers, and smiles into her sparkling eyes.
“There’s another Earth saying,” he tells her. “Is glas iad na cnoic i bhfad uainn.”
Her nose wrinkles in adorable confusion, and she tilts her head, giving the pronunciation her best attempt. “Iss gloss ead nah knick ih wad ooh-ing,” she says, and for a phonetic first attempt, it’s not half bad. But she shakes her head, still confused. “I do not understand.”
“It’s Gaelic, love,” he says, running a finger across her cheek, into her hair. “It means, ‘Faraway fields are green.’ That places we don’t know, places other than our immediate locality, are always more attractive to use. In other words, when I was on Earth, the prospect of new planets, of interstellar travel, was appealing to me…”
She nods, interrupting him. “And when you were here on Atlantis, with no way of returning home…”
“Home was all I wanted,” he concludes.
She’s confused again, he knows by the knitting of her brows, the way that she looks over his shoulder, trying to make the pieces fit together. “I do not understand,” she finally says, meeting his gaze again. “You have wished to return home… and now you can do so. Why then…”
“Because.” He cuts off her question, taking her hands in his and bringing them to his lips, kissing each set of knuckles in turn. “You’re here…which means I’m already home.”
For what seems like a long time, she does not react, and he wonders if she understands, if he should explain further. Then, without warning, a smile breaks over her face, brighter even than the one of moments earlier. The tiny squeak of happiness she emits as she throws herself into his arms is music to his ears, and when she holds him so tightly it’s hard to breath, he doesn’t complain, just holds her just as tightly.
“Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin,” he thinks to himself; the Gaelic equivalent of Major Sheppard’s new favourite phrase, and he makes a mental note to teach it to Teyla.
Because here like this, with her, truer words have never been spoken.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Beckett/Teyla
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Notes: For the Beckett ficathon : Azar wanted the following - Beckett/Teyla or
Beckett/Heightmeyer, Beckett has an opportunity to return home to Earth but
decides to stay, Beckett speaks Gaelic
“There y’are… I’ve been lookin’ for you…”
The words have left Carson’s lips before his brain registers the sight before him; Teyla, sitting on the floor, in the farthest corner of the exercise room, knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped around them. Too late he registers that she looks lost in thought, melancholy thought at that; too late he remembers that he’s just spent the last hour trawling the city, looking for her only to find that no-one had seen her, a feat in and of itself, something that should have told him that, wherever she was, she had no wish to be found.
He realises this all too late, only fitting the pieces together when she looks up to meet his gaze, and he sees a strange light burning in her eyes. It’s caught somewhere between anger and sadness, and it causes something in his stomach to twist painfully. “Teyla?” he asks, a world of questions held in her name as he takes a step towards her, arm extended. He wants to know what’s made her look like that, wants to make everything better, wants to sit down beside her and take her in his arms. She doesn’t give him the chance though, forcing an almost-natural-looking smile to her face.
“Doctor,” she says, and the chill in her voice could freeze water. “I was unaware that you were searching for me… how may I be of assistance?”
Carson blinks once, looks around him just to make sure that they are, as he thought, alone. A quick once-over of the room assures him that they are, moreover that the door slid shut when he entered. There is no-one who can hear them, no-one who can see them, so her aloofness makes little sense to him. “Teyla…” he says again, more curious than concerned now, taking another step towards her, alarm only growing when she side-steps him neatly.
“Doctor?” she asks, with a tilt of her head, a funny little lilt to her voice. “How many I help you?”
“Ye can stop sounding like a bloody how-to-speak-English book for starters,” he says, curiosity flaring into momentary anger. He feels instantly guilty, and would apologise, were it not for the flash of surprise, then amusement, that lights her face. Only for a brief instant though, then it vanishes into the darkness of her stony stare, but it’s enough to let him know that his Teyla is still in there somewhere, buried underneath the Athosian armour that he’s long heard his fellow team-mates complain about.
He doesn’t give her a chance to respond, deciding instead to press his advantage. “And when you’re finished wi’ that,” he says, making a conscious effort to keep his voice gentle, “Ye can tell me what’s the matter.”
An owlish blink is his initial reply. “There is nothing the matter,” she tells him, a barefaced lie if ever he’s heard one, and he’s only grateful that she didn’t tack on the word “Doctor” to the end of it. “I was not aware that you were looking for me.” She pauses for a brief second in which Carson opens his mouth to reply to that, but this time, she doesn’t give him a chance to get the words out before she says, “I imagined that you would be packing.”
The words are so quiet that, for a second, he’s sure he imagined them. When she looks down, he realises that he didn’t, and when he contrasts her mood with the excitement, the sheer giddiness, going on outside, things begin to fall into place.
“Teyla-” he begins, a smile in his lips, in his voice, but instead of relaxing her, as it usually does, her face twists as if in pain, and she turns away from him. When she speaks, her voice is carefully neutral – too controlled, he knows at once – and only the rigid line of her shoulders, the iron of her spine, betrays the pain she’s feeling.
“Major Sheppard is most excited,” she tells him. “He keeps saying that there is no place like home… something that seems to vex Doctor McKay…” Carson’s hands land on her shoulders, and she jumps, her voice hitching before she continues, “I did not know that the Major chose ruby slippers as a personal item…”
Despite the serious air in the room, Carson can’t stifle the burst of laughter that passes his lips, not until she turns her head to look at him and he sees pain mingled with wariness in her eyes. “Do I amuse you?” she asks, that cold tone back again, and he shakes his head, turning her around so that she’s facing him, bodies almost close enough to touch.
“Not at all love,” he tells her, hands ever so lightly resting on her shoulders. “It’s a reference to an Earth film, that’s all… where a girl was… transported to a magical land… and to return home, all she had to do was click her heels three times, repeating, ‘There’s no place like home’ while wearing a pair of ruby slippers…”
He’s still smiling, but she looks sad. “Another allusion that escapes me,” she murmurs, and he frowns, because she normally responds to any Earth reference with curiosity and enthused interest. It’s one of the things that he loves most about her, how they can sit and talk for hours as she asks him question after question about Earth, about where he grew up. He’s developed a similar interest in Athosian culture, loves to listen to her talk about her childhood, her family traditions. Conversation has never been a problem for them, which is why he’s so discombobulated now.
“We’ve got time,” he tells her, intending it to comforting, but a bitter smile touches her lips.
“My life, my home, is in the Pegasus galaxy,” she says. “Yours is on Earth. When you return there…”
“Teyla…” For the fourth time today, he starts a sentence with her name; for this first time today, he gets to finish it. “I’m not going back.”
The words hang in the air between them, shimmering like gossamer, like the light in her eyes when she processes them. The change is instant, her face irradiated by sheer joy, and he wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms, kiss her breathless, forget about the world beyond these four walls. Then the lights dim, wary caution taking over, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinises his face.
“Why would you wish to stay?” she demands, and if there’s a question in there, there’s an underlying current of belligerence there too. “You have family on Earth… do you not wish to see them?”
“Of course I do, love,” he tells her, not having to think twice about that. “But my work is here… on Atlantis. I’ve no plans to return to Stargate Command… I want to stay here.”
“Why? If there is no place like home…”
He chuckles, gives into his seconds-earlier impulse, moving his hands from her shoulders to her cheeks, bringing his lips to hers and pulling her into a kiss that he swears has the power to stop time. She resists for the briefest of seconds, then she kisses him back hungrily, winding her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his, and they kiss until the need for oxygen becomes overpowering. Then he pulls back, rests his forehead against hers, and smiles into her sparkling eyes.
“There’s another Earth saying,” he tells her. “Is glas iad na cnoic i bhfad uainn.”
Her nose wrinkles in adorable confusion, and she tilts her head, giving the pronunciation her best attempt. “Iss gloss ead nah knick ih wad ooh-ing,” she says, and for a phonetic first attempt, it’s not half bad. But she shakes her head, still confused. “I do not understand.”
“It’s Gaelic, love,” he says, running a finger across her cheek, into her hair. “It means, ‘Faraway fields are green.’ That places we don’t know, places other than our immediate locality, are always more attractive to use. In other words, when I was on Earth, the prospect of new planets, of interstellar travel, was appealing to me…”
She nods, interrupting him. “And when you were here on Atlantis, with no way of returning home…”
“Home was all I wanted,” he concludes.
She’s confused again, he knows by the knitting of her brows, the way that she looks over his shoulder, trying to make the pieces fit together. “I do not understand,” she finally says, meeting his gaze again. “You have wished to return home… and now you can do so. Why then…”
“Because.” He cuts off her question, taking her hands in his and bringing them to his lips, kissing each set of knuckles in turn. “You’re here…which means I’m already home.”
For what seems like a long time, she does not react, and he wonders if she understands, if he should explain further. Then, without warning, a smile breaks over her face, brighter even than the one of moments earlier. The tiny squeak of happiness she emits as she throws herself into his arms is music to his ears, and when she holds him so tightly it’s hard to breath, he doesn’t complain, just holds her just as tightly.
“Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin,” he thinks to himself; the Gaelic equivalent of Major Sheppard’s new favourite phrase, and he makes a mental note to teach it to Teyla.
Because here like this, with her, truer words have never been spoken.