Fic: Beneath Your Heart, Within Your Arms
Mar. 6th, 2009 08:51 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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three_fathersTitle: Beneath Your Heart, Within Your Arms
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
perspi
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~10,000 total
Pairing: None
Summary: The best family is the one you make, and if it has three fathers, how is that not wonderful?
Relates to Episodes: Season 4
A/N: This is the combined version of my two fics originally posted as Beneath Your Heart and Within Your Arms. This combination puts events from both stories in chronological order.
"I have told you twice already, I am fine," Teyla said and gritted her teeth. Having three men fussing over her like old aunts left her virtually no time to herself. They simply wouldn't accept verbal reassurances; she had to put on a good face when all she really wanted to do was cover herself with blankets and not talk to anyone.
Rodney blinked and stepped back. Teyla thought perhaps her verbal reassurance had come out more sharply than she had intended.
"Um, 'kay," Rodney said slowly. "Well, good. Right, then, I'll just be..." and he swirled both index fingers in circles and pointed back the way he came. He turned just before he went out the door and asked, "You sure you don't—"
"Rodney," Teyla warned, and he ducked quickly out the door. Where had her patience gone?
Rodney had been gone not ten minutes before John, in sweats, popped through the door. "Hey, Teyla, you wanna—"
"Yes," she snarled and brushed past him, heading for the gym.
John caught up to her quickly. "I meant go for a sedate stroll around the north pier," he growled at her as they walked.
"Sedate is not how I am feeling right now, Colonel," she snapped.
When they got to the gym she pulled her sticks out and began twirling them, slicing the air with a satisfying, vicious zing. John paused at the door.
"I really don't think this is a good idea," he said nervously, his hands on his hips and a worried expression on his face.
Normally Teyla would take steps to assuage his worry, to drive back his fear. This time Teyla thwacked her sticks together and gave herself leave to ignore it, as she was most definitely feeling not normal. "I am not a flower. Stay or go, as you wish." She began to stretch against the wall, feeling overbalanced by the new size of her chest, which only irritated her all over again.
When she turned back around, John had his own sticks held low. "Dr. Keller—"
"Said I could continue to train, as I wished," Teyla cut him off. She stepped in quickly and came at him with an overhand strike, which he blocked at the last second.
He blinked in surprise at the force of the hit. "She said you should be careful."
Teyla swiped at him again; he blocked it halfheartedly. "I am always careful."
"I know that, Teyla," John said soothingly. "We worry, is all."
"I know, John. But I am not fragile, and I know what I am capable of." Teyla pointed her sticks at the floor and stood relaxed, finally allowing some of her irritation to flow away.
John regarded her for a long moment. Then he stepped to the side and began swinging his sticks. "All right, then. If you insist...Ready?"
The first few minutes were a solid workout, a rhythm of strike and parry that allowed Teyla to relax, to feel like herself again.
"Do not be tempted to 'go easy' on me, Colonel," she gritted out during one particularly intricate combination.
"Who said I was going easy?" John huffed with a smug little smile on his face, then yelped as he landed flat on his back.
Teyla couldn't help smirking down at him. She couldn't keep the satisfied feeling from putting a smile on her face after he got up and finally, finally started to really hit back. She kept smiling as she put him flat on his back six more times.
The next morning Ronon appeared at her door with an armful of blankets—some Athosian furs, a garish purple afghan, and a blue fleece blanket that smelled like Rodney (coffee and his 'sensitive' soap)—and a pile of DVDs.
"Cadman told me to bring these to you," Ronon said without preamble and dumped the whole mess on her bed. "Need anything?"
"Thank you, Ronon," Teyla replied. "I am fine."
"Sheppard says you have the day off," he rumbled and disappeared without another word.
Teyla turned back to her bed, piled high with blankets. She wondered how Lieutenant Cadman had known her deepest wish and a fierce fondness spread through her chest. The laptop Rodney had insisted she keep in her quarters was on her bedside table, requiring little adjustment for optimum viewing.
She discovered that the serial stories of what the Earthers called 'television shows' made for great entertainment when curled under a heap of blankets, although she wondered why Buffy insisted on wearing such ridiculous shoes while fighting.
"News spreads fast," Ronon growled as he settled himself on the couch. Rodney reached for the popcorn and Ronon slapped his hand away. "Three people asked me today if I was the baby's father."
"And what did you say?" John asked, handing another bowl of popcorn to a pouting Rodney before sitting next to Teyla, who arranged herself and her blankets to accommodate him.
Ronon shrugged and stuffed more popcorn in his mouth. "Guess they wanted to know how they should bet."
"Bet?" John frowned.
"Oh, please, like you don't know," Rodney said dismissively. At John's blank look, Rodney's eyes went wide and he pointed. "You don't know. How could you not know? Even I know, and I'm oblivious."
John's jaw tightened. "Rodney," he warned.
"The 'who's Teyla sleeping with' pool is now the 'who's Teyla's baby-daddy' pool."
"What?"
"Apparently it began not long after I joined your team," Teyla told him. When she had learned of it, the pool had amused her more than anything; the Marines had quickly learned not to get too curious.
"You and me are even odds." Ronon smirked as he swallowed his Coke, and John's frown darkened into a full-on scowl.
"Oh, we are going to shut that shit down right now," John growled and started to disentangle himself from Teyla's feet and the blanket draped across his lap.
Teyla quickly grabbed his wrist, not least because John's exit would disturb her hard-won comfort. "What is wrong? Surely it is harmless."
John didn't relax, but he didn't get up, either. "It's not harmless, Teyla. It's..." he rubbed at his eyebrow with his free hand, "...it's disrespectful. Of you, of me, of Ronon. The fact that I didn't know about it means they know it, too."
"So do it in the morning," Ronon suggested.
John fidgeted briefly before finally agreeing, "Yeah, okay," and relaxing back into the couch cushions. "It'll give me time to think of the appropriate punishment for the ringleaders."
"We could confiscate the pot," Rodney suggested.
"That's not a bad idea." John turned and grabbed some popcorn from Teyla's bowl.
"Of course it isn't," Rodney said smugly. "I just don't understand why no one thinks it could be me. It could just as easily have been me, right?"
He looked so forlorn that Teyla had to suppress a fresh surge of irritation at the women who had given him such insecurity. She gave him a warm smile instead. "Of course, Rodney—as easily as John or Ronon."
"Meaning, never," John added.
"Ha very ha," Rodney huffed. "Hey, what are we watching, anyway?"
"These were in my mailbox," Teyla said and pulled a pair of DVD-Rs from under her blanket. "Rosemary's Baby sounds appropriate, does it not?"
John sat forward again, his whole body suddenly thrumming with agitation. "Who gave those to you?" Rodney asked quietly.
Teyla looked back and forth between them. "They had no note. Why? Rodney?"
But Rodney wasn't looking at her. "That is not fucking funny, Sheppard."
"Tell me about it. Who woul—"
"It's gotta be somebody new; no one who's been here long would ever—"
"Can you find them?"
"Absolutely. It's a simple matter of getting into personal c— Twenty-four hours, tops."
"Will someone explain?" Teyla asked loudly.
Rodney looked profoundly uncomfortable, but he explained, "It's a...a horror movie. About a woman who's pregnant with a demon child."
By the time Rodney finished, Ronon had leaned forward too, his body radiating as much tension as John's. "You're right, McKay," he growled, "that is not fucking funny."
Teyla tossed her blankets aside and stood up, pacing behind the couches. "I had thought the betting pool was merely entertainment, but to imply that my child is..." She pointed at Rodney. "I want their names. I want them on the next mining mission to that planet you call Hell. I want them scrubbing the waste recycling units with very small brushes. I want—"
"I want them in training sessions for a week," Ronon interrupted.
"Guys," John said loudly, and Teyla stopped pacing. "We'll find 'em. Don't worry."
"And we'll show them how funny we find their jokes," Ronon added darkly.
Rodney's hovering decreased considerably after the memorable day that he came too close to Teyla while holding his strong morning cup of coffee and her stomach rebelled all over him. Teyla had to admit she appreciated that Rodney was no longer in danger of smothering her, although she wished she could have gotten the message across more diplomatically.
Teyla was surprised to find Major Lorne on the other side of her door. "Major Lorne. Is something wrong?"
Lorne shook his head quickly. "No, no, nothing's wrong. Um," he dropped his voice to a near-whisper and pulled something from beneath his arm. "I know you've been getting a lot of congratulations and you totally deserve them, and I'm really sorry about the—" and he waved his hands to encompass the whole DVD debacle and upstart sergeants on stupid dares, "—um. Just, here." He pushed the bundle at Teyla.
She couldn't help the surprised look on her face when the bundle unfurled into a very soft pair of gray sweatpants.
"I thought I'd bring you something you might find useful," he said quickly. "My sister swore she loved her husband's sweats while she was pregnant and I just figured, you know, the Colonel's real skinny and McKay would never part with something comfortable and Ronon probably doesn't even own any and—"
Teyla finally stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Major. It was very thoughtful of you."
Lorne looked at her a long moment. "You're welcome." He smiled and turned to go, but turned back after a step. "I just— I wanted you to know we're your people, too, you know. On Atlantis."
He left Teyla standing in the doorway, hugging the soft fleece to her chest.
"I don't understand, you don't want to know?" Rodney's voice was quickly climbing into a pitch generally reserved for idiots and crises as they walked to the infirmary for their first glimpse of the baby via a scanner. "How could you not want to know? How can you wait five more months to find out something you can know right now?"
"Mothers have carried children for generations without knowing the sex of the child," Teyla said in that serene way she knew would get Rodney even more agitated. John and Ronon knew it too, and shared a grin as they walked a step behind.
Rodney began gesturing wildly enough that his steps started to zigzag in the corridor. "B—but— that doesn't mean you have to! You can know, right now, and you can start preparing—"
"Preparing how, McKay?" Ronon interrupted. "How is it different for a boy or a girl?" Teyla hid a small, secret smile as the sound of her men surrounded her.
"The baby's name! How are you going to pick a name? Names are immeasurably important; you're shaping identity when you name a child, you could scar them for life—"
"Meredith," John teased.
"Exactly my point!"
"Everything looks fine," Keller said reassuringly as she and Teyla settled into chairs in her office. "Your weight gain is good—I take it the morning sickness is gone?"
"I am most thankful," Teyla answered emphatically, causing Jennifer to smile. "It was getting...inconvenient."
"Yeah, I can imagine," Jennifer agreed. She shuffled a few papers in her lap, then looked back at Teyla. "I was wondering, what...how was childbirth handled on Athos? Did you have midwives or...?"
Teyla sat back and settled her hands over her belly as a wave of homesickness washed through her. "Women were usually attended by other mothers. I confess I was never particularly interested in what went on in the birthing tent."
"Have you thought about what you want?" Jennifer asked. "For your—" she waved her hand in a little circle, "—for when you give birth?"
Teyla frowned. "I had not considered it. Surely there are—"
"There's not," Jennifer interrupted. "Teyla, there isn't even anyone who can talk you through this; no one on this expedition has children. None of our doctors specialized in obstetrics, which isn't surprising given the nature of what we do."
"But you have delivered children, as part of your training, yes?"
"Well, yeah, but I haven't done it in a while," Jennifer said with a nervous tremble. "I just want you to think about what you want to happen, who you want to be there. If you need us to bring an obstetrician or a midwife from Earth, we can do that but I need some time to get clearances."
Teyla leaned over and covered Jennifer's hands with her own. "I do not wish for a stranger, Jennifer. I want you to be there."
"Well," Jennifer said softly and curled one hand over Teyla's. "That means a lot. But you wouldn't mind if I brought in a specialist?"
Teyla smiled. "It would make me happy if you were comfortable."
"I know just the person; you'll love her." Jennifer sat forward, all excited energy. "I'll see if she could bring along some books for you, or maybe videos would be better?" She trailed off when Teyla held up a hand.
"I believe Rodney already has some materials on order," she said, and they both dissolved into giggles.
"That is it," Teyla growled and threw her jacket on the floor. The offending garment no longer agreed to zip around her middle, and she had already asked for larger pants twice, pants which fit her belly but sagged in odd ways around her bottom and had legs which were far too long.
She tapped her radio. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla."
"Come in, Teyla," John's voice growled in her ear.
"Colonel, I will not be joining you today," she answered. "You should go without me."
"Why? What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?"
Rodney's voice overlapped with John's questions. "Sheppard? Teyla? Ohmygod, please tell me you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Teyla said the dual 'okay's echoed in her ear. "But..." she huffed out a rueful little laugh, "I have nothing to wear."
"Huh." The sound echoed in both her earpiece and her other ear; Teyla turned to see John at her doorway.
He took in the clothes scattered about her and looked her over from head to toe, as if seeing the new shape of her for the first time. "It's all right, McKay," John said into his radio. "Just...she's fine." He tapped his radio off and stepped further into the room. "Teyla?"
"Nothing fits!" Teyla swiped angrily at her eyes and resisted the urge to kick the pile of clothes. "Nothing is comfortable except Major Lorne's sweatpants, which are ugly and I do not wish to be seen in them. I do not understand why I am so upset about it. I do not cry." She sniffed loudly and winced at how undignified she was being, but she didn't seem to be able to stop it.
It got worse when John stepped close and held her shoulders, ducking his head to try and meet her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. We'll find something."
He kept talking even when she grabbed hold of him and sobbed all over his shirt. He rubbed her shoulders and murmured words of comfort and encouragement towards the ceiling, holding his ground against her tears.
A week after her disgrace with Colonel Sheppard, after they'd agreed never to speak of it again, Ronon dropped a large package next to her tray in the mess hall.
Teyla looked at it only briefly before continuing with her meal. She ate nearly as much as Rodney, lately, and more often.
"C'mon, aren't you going to open it?" Rodney asked.
All three of them had goofy grins on their faces, so Teyla gave up and opened the box. Inside was a deep brown leather coat, cut with a high neckline in Satedan style. It was amazingly soft as she pulled it from the box.
"Oh," she exclaimed softly. "It is exquisite."
"Ronon made it," Rodney said, and Ronon shrugged. "There's a dress in there, too, from Sheppard and me, we ordered some on P4X-887 but they only had one ready and we wanted to give it to you, you know, in case you don't like it? We can change the design any way you want, the seamstress said. And the Daedalus is here next week, Jeannie helped us order and we got you some Earth maternity stuff, too, seeing as we can't exactly spend our paychecks on ourselves—"
"Breathe, McKay," Ronon grumbled and poked Rodney with his elbow.
"Yes, well," Rodney finally paused and shot Ronon a dirty look.
Teyla dressed slowly. Her men were waiting, but she wanted to savor the thoughtfulness of their gifts.
The dress was several shades of yellow, the color of late-summer sunshine, and fashioned out of layers of whisper-soft maleesz. It gathered and tied below her breasts, above her swelling belly, and was unbelievably comfortable. The coat fit like a dream, skimming open over the sides of her belly as it dropped to the floor.
She stepped out from the bedroom into the common area where they waited, and smiled at the stunned expressions on all three faces. "Well?" she asked.
Of course Rodney would be first to talk. "God, Teyla, you look fantastic."
"Better?" John asked with a little half-smile that said, We're still not discussing how you totally soaked my shirt.
"Much," Teyla replied with a nod of her head and a smile of her own that said, Discuss it and die. "Thank you."
Ronon got up and walked around behind her, smoothing the coat over her shoulders and tugging at the way it laced beneath her arms. Suddenly she remembered the backrub Ronon had unexpectedly offered the week before, and how he'd carefully rubbed from her hands to her shoulders, skimmed across her back from shoulders to hips.
Teyla turned and said, "You were measuring me."
The corners of Ronon's eyes crinkled when he grinned. "Glad it fits."
The deliveries from the latest Daedalus run had mostly gone to Rodney's or Teyla's quarters, as they were clothes and other items ordered by Rodney or sent by Jeannie, so John was surprised to find the small shipping container on his bed. It was addressed to all four of them, though; John shrugged and flipped the latches, figuring that the delivery guys felt bad that McKay got all the packages and John deserved one, too.
As soon as he saw what was inside, though, he tapped his radio. "Rodney, what the hell is this?"
"I could maybe tell you, if I could somehow connect with your visual cortex and see what you're seeing," Rodney replied immediately.
John didn't dare touch any of it, so he couldn't see what the second layer contained. "Books, McKay. There's a box on my bed that's full of books."
"Great!" Rodney's excited shout sounded shrill over the connection. "I was wondering where those were. Bring them over to Teyla's, would you? We're opening everything else; it's like Christmas."
"Am I correct in assuming these books are for you and me and Ronon to read?"
"Um, yeah, some of them, and some are for Teyla. I'm a firm believer in doing your research, you know. Just how many births have you attended, Colonel?"
"I'm not planning on attending this one!"
"Just one second." Rodney's voice went quiet as he covered his mic with his hand and asked Teyla to excuse him. A rustle and a door swish, and Rodney was back on the line, hissing, "Oh yes you are. Neither you nor Ronon are leaving me to experience the terror that will be Teyla in labor by myself."
"I didn't sign up for this! I don't want to watch a baby come out of Teyla's..." John groped for something, anything, "...lady bits! Don't you remember that traumatic health class video?"
"God, yes," Rodney confessed quietly, and it made John feel just a little less panicked.
"Okay, then," John said, feeling like something had been resolved, only he wasn't sure what. "She probably won't want us there, anyway."
"Oh, I think she will," Rodney said ruefully, and John's stomach dropped again. "Which is why we need those books."
John looked back down at the books on the top of the pile and barely resisted the urge to start tossing them on the floor. "The Caveman's Pregnancy Companion?"
"That's for Ronon," Rodney cut in.
"Naturally," John answered. "You do realize he doesn't read much English yet, right?"
"Then it'll give him practice."
"What the— My Boys Can Swim!? They weren't any of our boys, Rodney!"
"It came highly recommended!" Rodney shouted into the radio.
"By who? Who could you possibly have asked for advice about this?"
"Kaleb," came the reply, quiet and a little embarrassed.
That brought John up short. "Oh," he said.
Rodney sounded defensive. "He's a good dad, you know, otherwise Jeannie wouldn't be with him, so he's the best resource I have, and I—"
"It's okay, Rodney," John said. Rodney went silent with a little huff, and John had to loudly shuffle the books so Rodney could hear them. John cleared his throat and went back to looking at book titles. "The Expectant Father: Advice for Dads-to-Be. Okay, that looks like..." All the air left him in a rush, and John had to turn and sit down—no, more like collapse—on the bed. "Holy shit, Rodney, that's us. We're the dads-to-be."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Rodney screeched. "It's about damn time you freaked out about this! Seriously, Sheppard, I was starting to think you'd taken one too many blows to the head; I've been freaking out about this for weeks."
"Yeah, well, you've been hiding it well," John said, glad Rodney couldn't see his smile.
"Really, you think so?"
"No." John enjoyed Rodney's splutter for a moment, then said, "You win, Rodney, I'll read a book. One book, and you can give me the highlights of the rest."
"That sounds fair," Rodney conceded, "given how fast you read."
John snorted into the mic, which he knew Rodney found intensely annoying, and reached over to pull another book out of the box. "I draw the line at My Boys Can Swim, though."
Rodney was busy brushing his teeth when somebody knocked on his door. He stopped brushing and waited, sure that he was imagining things—it was nearly three in the morning; nobody else got up this early. Which was precisely why Rodney liked his schedule. Well, that and he could be on his second breakfast when everybody else woke up.
So he was surprised when the knock came again, firm but quiet, nothing like Sheppard's usual pounding. He almost dropped his toothbrush when he opened the door to find Teyla, standing in the hall and looking beautifully rumpled and frustrated, blankets and pillows in her arms.
"Teyla?" he squeaked through a mouthful of toothpaste froth. "You okay?"
Teyla brushed past him with a sighed, "Rodney," and she headed straight for the bed. For his bed.
Rodney was frozen in place by the door, watching as Teyla pulled the blankets back and arranged his pillows and the two she had brought into a nest. It wasn't until he saw one of his pillows shoved unceremoniously under her belly that he kicked himself back into gear to protest.
"Teyla, what?" He held up a finger and headed for the bathroom to spit. By the time he got back, Teyla was fully snuggled in under the blankets with a serene expression on the half of her face that was visible. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"I am sleeping, Rodney," came the soft reply.
"But. In my bed?"
"It is very comfortable."
"Teyla!"
She finally opened her eyes to level a sleepy glare at him. "You are going to the labs, are you not?"
"Yes, but that's hardly the point—"
"Then you will not be needing this bed." Teyla deliberately closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her head.
"It's my bed!" Rodney tried to keep his screeching masculine and intimidating, but he had a suspicion he was failing when the lump on his bed didn't move. "What's wrong with your bed?"
Teyla's voice from under the blankets was muffled, but still clearly understandable and sounding like she was explaining to a four year old. "The books recommend I sleep on my side, which makes my hip and thigh go numb, which keeps me from sleeping. Your bed is the most comfortable in the city. Therefore, I'm sleeping here."
Okay, Rodney was almost willing to let it go at that; he hated the pins-and-needles associated with numb appendages. "Did you just use a contraction?"
He never did figure out how Teyla had such deadly accuracy with his alarm clock while she was buried under a pile of blankets.
Teyla continued to accompany the team on most of their trading missions, where she sometimes let herself bask in the attention. Rodney and John were sometimes taken aback by just how much attention a pregnant woman could garner in the Pegasus galaxy. Ronon had tried to explain, using terms like 'walking symbol of hope' and 'future in bountiful breasts.' It only seemed to make John and Rodney more nervous, especially when Teyla could barely contain her laughter at Ronon's deadpan, earnest delivery of the purplest of Satedan poetry.
It was a 40-minute 'jumper ride to the Koliat encampment from the Gate, which to John spelled perfect opportunity. "So I've been thinking—"
"Oh, here we go," Rodney muttered loudly.
John resolutely talked over him. "We pool our ranks and we could finagle the biggest apartment in the Tower."
"Finagle? Where are we, again?"
"I just figure, I'm CMO, you're CS—"
"It's a good idea," Ronon agreed, surprising John with his quickness.
Ronon must have shared a look with Teyla, because she gave a soft "Oh, John."
"'Oh, John,' what?" Rodney asked sharply, and John could peripherally see Rodney's fingers stabbing the air just before it almost audibly clicked. "You want us to—"
"We should move in together," John said casually and shrugged.
"All of us?" Rodney sputtered. "All four of us? You can't be serious!"
"I have already appropriated your bed, Rodney," Teyla said gently, amusement dancing in her voice.
"And I want it back!"
"We can take turns with the baby," Ronon rumbled.
Rodney didn't turn to look at Ronon; he just yelled in his general direction, "I am very particular about my—"
"I call anti-dibs on diapers with number twos," John added loudly, hoping to distract Rodney into agreeing with his proposal.
"What's anti-dibs?" Ronon asked just as Rodney said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you can't do that; there's no such thing."
John ignored Rodney and glanced over his shoulder at Ronon. He noticed Teyla was leaning comfortably back in her chair, her hands crossed over her belly and a fond half-smile on her face that said she was perfectly content to let John and Ronon do the negotiating this time. "There is now," he told Rodney, who looked ready to roast him over a slow fire. He gave Rodney a teasing grin. "You're just mad 'cause I called it first. I'm not changing any crappy diapers," he added for Ronon's benefit.
"And just what is the US military going to think of their base commander living with his team? Nobody does that. SG-1 couldn't even get away with that," Rodney pointed out, complete with a pointy finger in John's direction.
"The US military is a galaxy away, and SG-1 doesn't have a baby," John countered. "We're all three of us the fathers, here. How did you think this was going to work, McKay?"
"Well, obviously I figured we'd all keep our quarters! And the baby would live with Teyla and...we'd all...take...turns?" Rodney trailed off hopefully.
Ronon snorted.
John shook his head. "See, that I have a problem with, McKay. Buying books isn't going to cut it—" he ignored Rodney's indignant huff, "—and Teyla deserves better. The last thing I want to be is a part-time father; I won't do that to my kid." John cleared his throat to cover his surprise at his vehement admission. He stared out the windshield, trying not to feel the three sets of eyes watching him.
"Oh," Rodney said softly, managing to roll an 'I get it' and an 'I'm sorry' and a 'yes, let's move in together' into that single syllable.
It turned out that was her last mission, as the Koliat decided they wanted to keep Teyla. Her belly prevented her from dodging as quickly as she would have liked, necessitating a rather large-scale rescue and more gunfire than she thought was called for. On the 'jumper ride home, Ronon sat pressed close to her side, large and warm and with one hand anchored behind her back, while Rodney hovered agitatedly over his console and John flew with a dark, forbidding expression on his face.
Their utter silence spoke volumes.
Ronon dragged Rodney and John out of the infirmary so Teyla could rest. They all needed to work off some of their anger before they would be fit company for her again, so he was tempted to pull them to the gym. But John was sporting a darkening bruise across one side of his face and Rodney was holding himself more like an old man than usual, so Ronon decided they could do something useful.
Neither man protested as Ronon shoved them into the transporter and crowded in behind them. Rodney barely blinked until they were walking down an unfamiliar corridor. "Where are we?" he asked.
"Picking out our new place," Ronon grumbled in answer, then pointed at the first door.
Teyla didn't bother to hide her tears when her men showed her the new apartment that John called 'The Penthouse.' It took up nearly a quarter of the level, wrapping around the tower with plenty of room for their growing family—bedrooms, bathrooms, balconies, several gathering areas, and at least two rooms that would serve Rodney as office space. She linked arms between Ronon and John as Rodney bounced from room to room, showing off all his upgrades and how they'd combined all their things to make it home.
"Do you think you could do that somewhere else?" Rodney snapped.
Teyla looked down at him, sitting at a console in the control room, and quirked an eyebrow. "Do what, exactly?"
"You're hovering!" Rodney nearly shouted. "You're standing over me and hovering like a—a— a puddlejumper, except you're more like a warship now—" his circling hands waved to indicate the way she took up considerably more space than she used to, "—and I can't work like this!"
"Jesus, McKay," Kelly Smith chided from the back of the room. "You can't tell a pregnant woman how big she is, get a grip."
"I have a grip, I have a very good grip, thank you very much," Rodney muttered loudly and bent over his computer again. "I just don't know what good you think it will do, hovering around the gate room when Sheppard and Ronon are offworld—"
"And overdue," Teyla reminded him.
"I mean, it's not like we can do anything about it, is it?" Rodney looked up at her, his mouth twisted in a sad half-smile. "You're due in a month, you're not to go offworld at all, and I have strict orders from Sheppard not to leave, either. If they're in trouble, we can't help them."
Teyla bit the inside of her cheek, tried to keep her voice calm to hide the frustration she felt. "I am not accustomed to this...waiting. I know now why Charin called this a woman's 'time of confinement.' I dislike it immensely."
Rodney's snort was drowned out by the whoosh of an incoming wormhole.
"I'm sorry, Teyla," John whispered. "We had a good lead, but then—" He spread his hands helplessly. They had been ambushed, barely able to see who was after them before he and Ronon were on the run. One of John's Marines hadn't been as lucky.
Teyla let her head fall back against the couch cushions. She gazed up at the ceiling, willing the sting in her throat back down; she had done enough crying in the past months to last. To last until she found them. A jab below her ribs brought her head back up, and she forced herself to focus on the men surrounding her rather than the people she had lost.
"I am glad you and Ronon are home," she said and laid a hand on John's forearm.
"Not exactly in one piece," Rodney said pointedly, flicking his eyes down where Ronon sat on the floor, his bandaged leg stretched out in front of him.
"It'll heal," Ronon grunted.
"Seriously, I can't believe you—"
"Shut up, watch this!" John interrupted Rodney with a wave of his hand and pointed at the screen. The most recent Daedalus run had brought what John called an entire 'season of football,' which had turned out to be a lot of repetitive video, and Rodney's 'season of hockey' was not much different, only the players seemed to move considerably faster. The sound of it was soothing, though, and Teyla didn't mind, so long as they were all together.
"Oh!" Teyla couldn't help letting out an exclamation as she got kicked in the ribs again. She looked down in time to see the bump created by the offending foot begin a slow slide from one side of her belly to the other.
"Holy crap, that's awesome," Rodney said quietly from his spot beside her.
"It's like Alien," John agreed.
"Looks gnarly," Ronon added.
Teyla was a bit surprised to see all three of them with their attention focused on her middle.
"You've been hanging out with the Marines too much, Ronon," Rodney said absently, then he pointed excitedly. "Ooo look! There it goes again!"
This time the bump pushed out and slid halfway back before disappearing from view.
"Can we—?" John asked, and his fingers twitched.
Teyla took John's hand and laid it on top of her belly, right where the kicking happened most often. Rodney's hand drifted over, and she placed it next to John's, where their fingers tangled in a fight for space. Ronon's hand slid up from below, splaying wide and warm across the front of her, his fingers brushing both Rodney and John. Teyla held them all, her hands covering all three.
They waited, quiet, and burst into laughter when the baby kicked, dancing beneath Teyla's heart.
On to Part 2
Author:
perspi Rating: PG
Word Count: ~10,000 total
Pairing: None
Summary: The best family is the one you make, and if it has three fathers, how is that not wonderful?
Relates to Episodes: Season 4
A/N: This is the combined version of my two fics originally posted as Beneath Your Heart and Within Your Arms. This combination puts events from both stories in chronological order.
"I have told you twice already, I am fine," Teyla said and gritted her teeth. Having three men fussing over her like old aunts left her virtually no time to herself. They simply wouldn't accept verbal reassurances; she had to put on a good face when all she really wanted to do was cover herself with blankets and not talk to anyone.
Rodney blinked and stepped back. Teyla thought perhaps her verbal reassurance had come out more sharply than she had intended.
"Um, 'kay," Rodney said slowly. "Well, good. Right, then, I'll just be..." and he swirled both index fingers in circles and pointed back the way he came. He turned just before he went out the door and asked, "You sure you don't—"
"Rodney," Teyla warned, and he ducked quickly out the door. Where had her patience gone?
Rodney had been gone not ten minutes before John, in sweats, popped through the door. "Hey, Teyla, you wanna—"
"Yes," she snarled and brushed past him, heading for the gym.
John caught up to her quickly. "I meant go for a sedate stroll around the north pier," he growled at her as they walked.
"Sedate is not how I am feeling right now, Colonel," she snapped.
When they got to the gym she pulled her sticks out and began twirling them, slicing the air with a satisfying, vicious zing. John paused at the door.
"I really don't think this is a good idea," he said nervously, his hands on his hips and a worried expression on his face.
Normally Teyla would take steps to assuage his worry, to drive back his fear. This time Teyla thwacked her sticks together and gave herself leave to ignore it, as she was most definitely feeling not normal. "I am not a flower. Stay or go, as you wish." She began to stretch against the wall, feeling overbalanced by the new size of her chest, which only irritated her all over again.
When she turned back around, John had his own sticks held low. "Dr. Keller—"
"Said I could continue to train, as I wished," Teyla cut him off. She stepped in quickly and came at him with an overhand strike, which he blocked at the last second.
He blinked in surprise at the force of the hit. "She said you should be careful."
Teyla swiped at him again; he blocked it halfheartedly. "I am always careful."
"I know that, Teyla," John said soothingly. "We worry, is all."
"I know, John. But I am not fragile, and I know what I am capable of." Teyla pointed her sticks at the floor and stood relaxed, finally allowing some of her irritation to flow away.
John regarded her for a long moment. Then he stepped to the side and began swinging his sticks. "All right, then. If you insist...Ready?"
The first few minutes were a solid workout, a rhythm of strike and parry that allowed Teyla to relax, to feel like herself again.
"Do not be tempted to 'go easy' on me, Colonel," she gritted out during one particularly intricate combination.
"Who said I was going easy?" John huffed with a smug little smile on his face, then yelped as he landed flat on his back.
Teyla couldn't help smirking down at him. She couldn't keep the satisfied feeling from putting a smile on her face after he got up and finally, finally started to really hit back. She kept smiling as she put him flat on his back six more times.
The next morning Ronon appeared at her door with an armful of blankets—some Athosian furs, a garish purple afghan, and a blue fleece blanket that smelled like Rodney (coffee and his 'sensitive' soap)—and a pile of DVDs.
"Cadman told me to bring these to you," Ronon said without preamble and dumped the whole mess on her bed. "Need anything?"
"Thank you, Ronon," Teyla replied. "I am fine."
"Sheppard says you have the day off," he rumbled and disappeared without another word.
Teyla turned back to her bed, piled high with blankets. She wondered how Lieutenant Cadman had known her deepest wish and a fierce fondness spread through her chest. The laptop Rodney had insisted she keep in her quarters was on her bedside table, requiring little adjustment for optimum viewing.
She discovered that the serial stories of what the Earthers called 'television shows' made for great entertainment when curled under a heap of blankets, although she wondered why Buffy insisted on wearing such ridiculous shoes while fighting.
"News spreads fast," Ronon growled as he settled himself on the couch. Rodney reached for the popcorn and Ronon slapped his hand away. "Three people asked me today if I was the baby's father."
"And what did you say?" John asked, handing another bowl of popcorn to a pouting Rodney before sitting next to Teyla, who arranged herself and her blankets to accommodate him.
Ronon shrugged and stuffed more popcorn in his mouth. "Guess they wanted to know how they should bet."
"Bet?" John frowned.
"Oh, please, like you don't know," Rodney said dismissively. At John's blank look, Rodney's eyes went wide and he pointed. "You don't know. How could you not know? Even I know, and I'm oblivious."
John's jaw tightened. "Rodney," he warned.
"The 'who's Teyla sleeping with' pool is now the 'who's Teyla's baby-daddy' pool."
"What?"
"Apparently it began not long after I joined your team," Teyla told him. When she had learned of it, the pool had amused her more than anything; the Marines had quickly learned not to get too curious.
"You and me are even odds." Ronon smirked as he swallowed his Coke, and John's frown darkened into a full-on scowl.
"Oh, we are going to shut that shit down right now," John growled and started to disentangle himself from Teyla's feet and the blanket draped across his lap.
Teyla quickly grabbed his wrist, not least because John's exit would disturb her hard-won comfort. "What is wrong? Surely it is harmless."
John didn't relax, but he didn't get up, either. "It's not harmless, Teyla. It's..." he rubbed at his eyebrow with his free hand, "...it's disrespectful. Of you, of me, of Ronon. The fact that I didn't know about it means they know it, too."
"So do it in the morning," Ronon suggested.
John fidgeted briefly before finally agreeing, "Yeah, okay," and relaxing back into the couch cushions. "It'll give me time to think of the appropriate punishment for the ringleaders."
"We could confiscate the pot," Rodney suggested.
"That's not a bad idea." John turned and grabbed some popcorn from Teyla's bowl.
"Of course it isn't," Rodney said smugly. "I just don't understand why no one thinks it could be me. It could just as easily have been me, right?"
He looked so forlorn that Teyla had to suppress a fresh surge of irritation at the women who had given him such insecurity. She gave him a warm smile instead. "Of course, Rodney—as easily as John or Ronon."
"Meaning, never," John added.
"Ha very ha," Rodney huffed. "Hey, what are we watching, anyway?"
"These were in my mailbox," Teyla said and pulled a pair of DVD-Rs from under her blanket. "Rosemary's Baby sounds appropriate, does it not?"
John sat forward again, his whole body suddenly thrumming with agitation. "Who gave those to you?" Rodney asked quietly.
Teyla looked back and forth between them. "They had no note. Why? Rodney?"
But Rodney wasn't looking at her. "That is not fucking funny, Sheppard."
"Tell me about it. Who woul—"
"It's gotta be somebody new; no one who's been here long would ever—"
"Can you find them?"
"Absolutely. It's a simple matter of getting into personal c— Twenty-four hours, tops."
"Will someone explain?" Teyla asked loudly.
Rodney looked profoundly uncomfortable, but he explained, "It's a...a horror movie. About a woman who's pregnant with a demon child."
By the time Rodney finished, Ronon had leaned forward too, his body radiating as much tension as John's. "You're right, McKay," he growled, "that is not fucking funny."
Teyla tossed her blankets aside and stood up, pacing behind the couches. "I had thought the betting pool was merely entertainment, but to imply that my child is..." She pointed at Rodney. "I want their names. I want them on the next mining mission to that planet you call Hell. I want them scrubbing the waste recycling units with very small brushes. I want—"
"I want them in training sessions for a week," Ronon interrupted.
"Guys," John said loudly, and Teyla stopped pacing. "We'll find 'em. Don't worry."
"And we'll show them how funny we find their jokes," Ronon added darkly.
Rodney's hovering decreased considerably after the memorable day that he came too close to Teyla while holding his strong morning cup of coffee and her stomach rebelled all over him. Teyla had to admit she appreciated that Rodney was no longer in danger of smothering her, although she wished she could have gotten the message across more diplomatically.
Teyla was surprised to find Major Lorne on the other side of her door. "Major Lorne. Is something wrong?"
Lorne shook his head quickly. "No, no, nothing's wrong. Um," he dropped his voice to a near-whisper and pulled something from beneath his arm. "I know you've been getting a lot of congratulations and you totally deserve them, and I'm really sorry about the—" and he waved his hands to encompass the whole DVD debacle and upstart sergeants on stupid dares, "—um. Just, here." He pushed the bundle at Teyla.
She couldn't help the surprised look on her face when the bundle unfurled into a very soft pair of gray sweatpants.
"I thought I'd bring you something you might find useful," he said quickly. "My sister swore she loved her husband's sweats while she was pregnant and I just figured, you know, the Colonel's real skinny and McKay would never part with something comfortable and Ronon probably doesn't even own any and—"
Teyla finally stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Major. It was very thoughtful of you."
Lorne looked at her a long moment. "You're welcome." He smiled and turned to go, but turned back after a step. "I just— I wanted you to know we're your people, too, you know. On Atlantis."
He left Teyla standing in the doorway, hugging the soft fleece to her chest.
"I don't understand, you don't want to know?" Rodney's voice was quickly climbing into a pitch generally reserved for idiots and crises as they walked to the infirmary for their first glimpse of the baby via a scanner. "How could you not want to know? How can you wait five more months to find out something you can know right now?"
"Mothers have carried children for generations without knowing the sex of the child," Teyla said in that serene way she knew would get Rodney even more agitated. John and Ronon knew it too, and shared a grin as they walked a step behind.
Rodney began gesturing wildly enough that his steps started to zigzag in the corridor. "B—but— that doesn't mean you have to! You can know, right now, and you can start preparing—"
"Preparing how, McKay?" Ronon interrupted. "How is it different for a boy or a girl?" Teyla hid a small, secret smile as the sound of her men surrounded her.
"The baby's name! How are you going to pick a name? Names are immeasurably important; you're shaping identity when you name a child, you could scar them for life—"
"Meredith," John teased.
"Exactly my point!"
"Everything looks fine," Keller said reassuringly as she and Teyla settled into chairs in her office. "Your weight gain is good—I take it the morning sickness is gone?"
"I am most thankful," Teyla answered emphatically, causing Jennifer to smile. "It was getting...inconvenient."
"Yeah, I can imagine," Jennifer agreed. She shuffled a few papers in her lap, then looked back at Teyla. "I was wondering, what...how was childbirth handled on Athos? Did you have midwives or...?"
Teyla sat back and settled her hands over her belly as a wave of homesickness washed through her. "Women were usually attended by other mothers. I confess I was never particularly interested in what went on in the birthing tent."
"Have you thought about what you want?" Jennifer asked. "For your—" she waved her hand in a little circle, "—for when you give birth?"
Teyla frowned. "I had not considered it. Surely there are—"
"There's not," Jennifer interrupted. "Teyla, there isn't even anyone who can talk you through this; no one on this expedition has children. None of our doctors specialized in obstetrics, which isn't surprising given the nature of what we do."
"But you have delivered children, as part of your training, yes?"
"Well, yeah, but I haven't done it in a while," Jennifer said with a nervous tremble. "I just want you to think about what you want to happen, who you want to be there. If you need us to bring an obstetrician or a midwife from Earth, we can do that but I need some time to get clearances."
Teyla leaned over and covered Jennifer's hands with her own. "I do not wish for a stranger, Jennifer. I want you to be there."
"Well," Jennifer said softly and curled one hand over Teyla's. "That means a lot. But you wouldn't mind if I brought in a specialist?"
Teyla smiled. "It would make me happy if you were comfortable."
"I know just the person; you'll love her." Jennifer sat forward, all excited energy. "I'll see if she could bring along some books for you, or maybe videos would be better?" She trailed off when Teyla held up a hand.
"I believe Rodney already has some materials on order," she said, and they both dissolved into giggles.
"That is it," Teyla growled and threw her jacket on the floor. The offending garment no longer agreed to zip around her middle, and she had already asked for larger pants twice, pants which fit her belly but sagged in odd ways around her bottom and had legs which were far too long.
She tapped her radio. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla."
"Come in, Teyla," John's voice growled in her ear.
"Colonel, I will not be joining you today," she answered. "You should go without me."
"Why? What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?"
Rodney's voice overlapped with John's questions. "Sheppard? Teyla? Ohmygod, please tell me you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Teyla said the dual 'okay's echoed in her ear. "But..." she huffed out a rueful little laugh, "I have nothing to wear."
"Huh." The sound echoed in both her earpiece and her other ear; Teyla turned to see John at her doorway.
He took in the clothes scattered about her and looked her over from head to toe, as if seeing the new shape of her for the first time. "It's all right, McKay," John said into his radio. "Just...she's fine." He tapped his radio off and stepped further into the room. "Teyla?"
"Nothing fits!" Teyla swiped angrily at her eyes and resisted the urge to kick the pile of clothes. "Nothing is comfortable except Major Lorne's sweatpants, which are ugly and I do not wish to be seen in them. I do not understand why I am so upset about it. I do not cry." She sniffed loudly and winced at how undignified she was being, but she didn't seem to be able to stop it.
It got worse when John stepped close and held her shoulders, ducking his head to try and meet her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. We'll find something."
He kept talking even when she grabbed hold of him and sobbed all over his shirt. He rubbed her shoulders and murmured words of comfort and encouragement towards the ceiling, holding his ground against her tears.
A week after her disgrace with Colonel Sheppard, after they'd agreed never to speak of it again, Ronon dropped a large package next to her tray in the mess hall.
Teyla looked at it only briefly before continuing with her meal. She ate nearly as much as Rodney, lately, and more often.
"C'mon, aren't you going to open it?" Rodney asked.
All three of them had goofy grins on their faces, so Teyla gave up and opened the box. Inside was a deep brown leather coat, cut with a high neckline in Satedan style. It was amazingly soft as she pulled it from the box.
"Oh," she exclaimed softly. "It is exquisite."
"Ronon made it," Rodney said, and Ronon shrugged. "There's a dress in there, too, from Sheppard and me, we ordered some on P4X-887 but they only had one ready and we wanted to give it to you, you know, in case you don't like it? We can change the design any way you want, the seamstress said. And the Daedalus is here next week, Jeannie helped us order and we got you some Earth maternity stuff, too, seeing as we can't exactly spend our paychecks on ourselves—"
"Breathe, McKay," Ronon grumbled and poked Rodney with his elbow.
"Yes, well," Rodney finally paused and shot Ronon a dirty look.
Teyla dressed slowly. Her men were waiting, but she wanted to savor the thoughtfulness of their gifts.
The dress was several shades of yellow, the color of late-summer sunshine, and fashioned out of layers of whisper-soft maleesz. It gathered and tied below her breasts, above her swelling belly, and was unbelievably comfortable. The coat fit like a dream, skimming open over the sides of her belly as it dropped to the floor.
She stepped out from the bedroom into the common area where they waited, and smiled at the stunned expressions on all three faces. "Well?" she asked.
Of course Rodney would be first to talk. "God, Teyla, you look fantastic."
"Better?" John asked with a little half-smile that said, We're still not discussing how you totally soaked my shirt.
"Much," Teyla replied with a nod of her head and a smile of her own that said, Discuss it and die. "Thank you."
Ronon got up and walked around behind her, smoothing the coat over her shoulders and tugging at the way it laced beneath her arms. Suddenly she remembered the backrub Ronon had unexpectedly offered the week before, and how he'd carefully rubbed from her hands to her shoulders, skimmed across her back from shoulders to hips.
Teyla turned and said, "You were measuring me."
The corners of Ronon's eyes crinkled when he grinned. "Glad it fits."
The deliveries from the latest Daedalus run had mostly gone to Rodney's or Teyla's quarters, as they were clothes and other items ordered by Rodney or sent by Jeannie, so John was surprised to find the small shipping container on his bed. It was addressed to all four of them, though; John shrugged and flipped the latches, figuring that the delivery guys felt bad that McKay got all the packages and John deserved one, too.
As soon as he saw what was inside, though, he tapped his radio. "Rodney, what the hell is this?"
"I could maybe tell you, if I could somehow connect with your visual cortex and see what you're seeing," Rodney replied immediately.
John didn't dare touch any of it, so he couldn't see what the second layer contained. "Books, McKay. There's a box on my bed that's full of books."
"Great!" Rodney's excited shout sounded shrill over the connection. "I was wondering where those were. Bring them over to Teyla's, would you? We're opening everything else; it's like Christmas."
"Am I correct in assuming these books are for you and me and Ronon to read?"
"Um, yeah, some of them, and some are for Teyla. I'm a firm believer in doing your research, you know. Just how many births have you attended, Colonel?"
"I'm not planning on attending this one!"
"Just one second." Rodney's voice went quiet as he covered his mic with his hand and asked Teyla to excuse him. A rustle and a door swish, and Rodney was back on the line, hissing, "Oh yes you are. Neither you nor Ronon are leaving me to experience the terror that will be Teyla in labor by myself."
"I didn't sign up for this! I don't want to watch a baby come out of Teyla's..." John groped for something, anything, "...lady bits! Don't you remember that traumatic health class video?"
"God, yes," Rodney confessed quietly, and it made John feel just a little less panicked.
"Okay, then," John said, feeling like something had been resolved, only he wasn't sure what. "She probably won't want us there, anyway."
"Oh, I think she will," Rodney said ruefully, and John's stomach dropped again. "Which is why we need those books."
John looked back down at the books on the top of the pile and barely resisted the urge to start tossing them on the floor. "The Caveman's Pregnancy Companion?"
"That's for Ronon," Rodney cut in.
"Naturally," John answered. "You do realize he doesn't read much English yet, right?"
"Then it'll give him practice."
"What the— My Boys Can Swim!? They weren't any of our boys, Rodney!"
"It came highly recommended!" Rodney shouted into the radio.
"By who? Who could you possibly have asked for advice about this?"
"Kaleb," came the reply, quiet and a little embarrassed.
That brought John up short. "Oh," he said.
Rodney sounded defensive. "He's a good dad, you know, otherwise Jeannie wouldn't be with him, so he's the best resource I have, and I—"
"It's okay, Rodney," John said. Rodney went silent with a little huff, and John had to loudly shuffle the books so Rodney could hear them. John cleared his throat and went back to looking at book titles. "The Expectant Father: Advice for Dads-to-Be. Okay, that looks like..." All the air left him in a rush, and John had to turn and sit down—no, more like collapse—on the bed. "Holy shit, Rodney, that's us. We're the dads-to-be."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Rodney screeched. "It's about damn time you freaked out about this! Seriously, Sheppard, I was starting to think you'd taken one too many blows to the head; I've been freaking out about this for weeks."
"Yeah, well, you've been hiding it well," John said, glad Rodney couldn't see his smile.
"Really, you think so?"
"No." John enjoyed Rodney's splutter for a moment, then said, "You win, Rodney, I'll read a book. One book, and you can give me the highlights of the rest."
"That sounds fair," Rodney conceded, "given how fast you read."
John snorted into the mic, which he knew Rodney found intensely annoying, and reached over to pull another book out of the box. "I draw the line at My Boys Can Swim, though."
Rodney was busy brushing his teeth when somebody knocked on his door. He stopped brushing and waited, sure that he was imagining things—it was nearly three in the morning; nobody else got up this early. Which was precisely why Rodney liked his schedule. Well, that and he could be on his second breakfast when everybody else woke up.
So he was surprised when the knock came again, firm but quiet, nothing like Sheppard's usual pounding. He almost dropped his toothbrush when he opened the door to find Teyla, standing in the hall and looking beautifully rumpled and frustrated, blankets and pillows in her arms.
"Teyla?" he squeaked through a mouthful of toothpaste froth. "You okay?"
Teyla brushed past him with a sighed, "Rodney," and she headed straight for the bed. For his bed.
Rodney was frozen in place by the door, watching as Teyla pulled the blankets back and arranged his pillows and the two she had brought into a nest. It wasn't until he saw one of his pillows shoved unceremoniously under her belly that he kicked himself back into gear to protest.
"Teyla, what?" He held up a finger and headed for the bathroom to spit. By the time he got back, Teyla was fully snuggled in under the blankets with a serene expression on the half of her face that was visible. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"I am sleeping, Rodney," came the soft reply.
"But. In my bed?"
"It is very comfortable."
"Teyla!"
She finally opened her eyes to level a sleepy glare at him. "You are going to the labs, are you not?"
"Yes, but that's hardly the point—"
"Then you will not be needing this bed." Teyla deliberately closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her head.
"It's my bed!" Rodney tried to keep his screeching masculine and intimidating, but he had a suspicion he was failing when the lump on his bed didn't move. "What's wrong with your bed?"
Teyla's voice from under the blankets was muffled, but still clearly understandable and sounding like she was explaining to a four year old. "The books recommend I sleep on my side, which makes my hip and thigh go numb, which keeps me from sleeping. Your bed is the most comfortable in the city. Therefore, I'm sleeping here."
Okay, Rodney was almost willing to let it go at that; he hated the pins-and-needles associated with numb appendages. "Did you just use a contraction?"
He never did figure out how Teyla had such deadly accuracy with his alarm clock while she was buried under a pile of blankets.
Teyla continued to accompany the team on most of their trading missions, where she sometimes let herself bask in the attention. Rodney and John were sometimes taken aback by just how much attention a pregnant woman could garner in the Pegasus galaxy. Ronon had tried to explain, using terms like 'walking symbol of hope' and 'future in bountiful breasts.' It only seemed to make John and Rodney more nervous, especially when Teyla could barely contain her laughter at Ronon's deadpan, earnest delivery of the purplest of Satedan poetry.
It was a 40-minute 'jumper ride to the Koliat encampment from the Gate, which to John spelled perfect opportunity. "So I've been thinking—"
"Oh, here we go," Rodney muttered loudly.
John resolutely talked over him. "We pool our ranks and we could finagle the biggest apartment in the Tower."
"Finagle? Where are we, again?"
"I just figure, I'm CMO, you're CS—"
"It's a good idea," Ronon agreed, surprising John with his quickness.
Ronon must have shared a look with Teyla, because she gave a soft "Oh, John."
"'Oh, John,' what?" Rodney asked sharply, and John could peripherally see Rodney's fingers stabbing the air just before it almost audibly clicked. "You want us to—"
"We should move in together," John said casually and shrugged.
"All of us?" Rodney sputtered. "All four of us? You can't be serious!"
"I have already appropriated your bed, Rodney," Teyla said gently, amusement dancing in her voice.
"And I want it back!"
"We can take turns with the baby," Ronon rumbled.
Rodney didn't turn to look at Ronon; he just yelled in his general direction, "I am very particular about my—"
"I call anti-dibs on diapers with number twos," John added loudly, hoping to distract Rodney into agreeing with his proposal.
"What's anti-dibs?" Ronon asked just as Rodney said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you can't do that; there's no such thing."
John ignored Rodney and glanced over his shoulder at Ronon. He noticed Teyla was leaning comfortably back in her chair, her hands crossed over her belly and a fond half-smile on her face that said she was perfectly content to let John and Ronon do the negotiating this time. "There is now," he told Rodney, who looked ready to roast him over a slow fire. He gave Rodney a teasing grin. "You're just mad 'cause I called it first. I'm not changing any crappy diapers," he added for Ronon's benefit.
"And just what is the US military going to think of their base commander living with his team? Nobody does that. SG-1 couldn't even get away with that," Rodney pointed out, complete with a pointy finger in John's direction.
"The US military is a galaxy away, and SG-1 doesn't have a baby," John countered. "We're all three of us the fathers, here. How did you think this was going to work, McKay?"
"Well, obviously I figured we'd all keep our quarters! And the baby would live with Teyla and...we'd all...take...turns?" Rodney trailed off hopefully.
Ronon snorted.
John shook his head. "See, that I have a problem with, McKay. Buying books isn't going to cut it—" he ignored Rodney's indignant huff, "—and Teyla deserves better. The last thing I want to be is a part-time father; I won't do that to my kid." John cleared his throat to cover his surprise at his vehement admission. He stared out the windshield, trying not to feel the three sets of eyes watching him.
"Oh," Rodney said softly, managing to roll an 'I get it' and an 'I'm sorry' and a 'yes, let's move in together' into that single syllable.
It turned out that was her last mission, as the Koliat decided they wanted to keep Teyla. Her belly prevented her from dodging as quickly as she would have liked, necessitating a rather large-scale rescue and more gunfire than she thought was called for. On the 'jumper ride home, Ronon sat pressed close to her side, large and warm and with one hand anchored behind her back, while Rodney hovered agitatedly over his console and John flew with a dark, forbidding expression on his face.
Their utter silence spoke volumes.
Ronon dragged Rodney and John out of the infirmary so Teyla could rest. They all needed to work off some of their anger before they would be fit company for her again, so he was tempted to pull them to the gym. But John was sporting a darkening bruise across one side of his face and Rodney was holding himself more like an old man than usual, so Ronon decided they could do something useful.
Neither man protested as Ronon shoved them into the transporter and crowded in behind them. Rodney barely blinked until they were walking down an unfamiliar corridor. "Where are we?" he asked.
"Picking out our new place," Ronon grumbled in answer, then pointed at the first door.
Teyla didn't bother to hide her tears when her men showed her the new apartment that John called 'The Penthouse.' It took up nearly a quarter of the level, wrapping around the tower with plenty of room for their growing family—bedrooms, bathrooms, balconies, several gathering areas, and at least two rooms that would serve Rodney as office space. She linked arms between Ronon and John as Rodney bounced from room to room, showing off all his upgrades and how they'd combined all their things to make it home.
"Do you think you could do that somewhere else?" Rodney snapped.
Teyla looked down at him, sitting at a console in the control room, and quirked an eyebrow. "Do what, exactly?"
"You're hovering!" Rodney nearly shouted. "You're standing over me and hovering like a—a— a puddlejumper, except you're more like a warship now—" his circling hands waved to indicate the way she took up considerably more space than she used to, "—and I can't work like this!"
"Jesus, McKay," Kelly Smith chided from the back of the room. "You can't tell a pregnant woman how big she is, get a grip."
"I have a grip, I have a very good grip, thank you very much," Rodney muttered loudly and bent over his computer again. "I just don't know what good you think it will do, hovering around the gate room when Sheppard and Ronon are offworld—"
"And overdue," Teyla reminded him.
"I mean, it's not like we can do anything about it, is it?" Rodney looked up at her, his mouth twisted in a sad half-smile. "You're due in a month, you're not to go offworld at all, and I have strict orders from Sheppard not to leave, either. If they're in trouble, we can't help them."
Teyla bit the inside of her cheek, tried to keep her voice calm to hide the frustration she felt. "I am not accustomed to this...waiting. I know now why Charin called this a woman's 'time of confinement.' I dislike it immensely."
Rodney's snort was drowned out by the whoosh of an incoming wormhole.
"I'm sorry, Teyla," John whispered. "We had a good lead, but then—" He spread his hands helplessly. They had been ambushed, barely able to see who was after them before he and Ronon were on the run. One of John's Marines hadn't been as lucky.
Teyla let her head fall back against the couch cushions. She gazed up at the ceiling, willing the sting in her throat back down; she had done enough crying in the past months to last. To last until she found them. A jab below her ribs brought her head back up, and she forced herself to focus on the men surrounding her rather than the people she had lost.
"I am glad you and Ronon are home," she said and laid a hand on John's forearm.
"Not exactly in one piece," Rodney said pointedly, flicking his eyes down where Ronon sat on the floor, his bandaged leg stretched out in front of him.
"It'll heal," Ronon grunted.
"Seriously, I can't believe you—"
"Shut up, watch this!" John interrupted Rodney with a wave of his hand and pointed at the screen. The most recent Daedalus run had brought what John called an entire 'season of football,' which had turned out to be a lot of repetitive video, and Rodney's 'season of hockey' was not much different, only the players seemed to move considerably faster. The sound of it was soothing, though, and Teyla didn't mind, so long as they were all together.
"Oh!" Teyla couldn't help letting out an exclamation as she got kicked in the ribs again. She looked down in time to see the bump created by the offending foot begin a slow slide from one side of her belly to the other.
"Holy crap, that's awesome," Rodney said quietly from his spot beside her.
"It's like Alien," John agreed.
"Looks gnarly," Ronon added.
Teyla was a bit surprised to see all three of them with their attention focused on her middle.
"You've been hanging out with the Marines too much, Ronon," Rodney said absently, then he pointed excitedly. "Ooo look! There it goes again!"
This time the bump pushed out and slid halfway back before disappearing from view.
"Can we—?" John asked, and his fingers twitched.
Teyla took John's hand and laid it on top of her belly, right where the kicking happened most often. Rodney's hand drifted over, and she placed it next to John's, where their fingers tangled in a fight for space. Ronon's hand slid up from below, splaying wide and warm across the front of her, his fingers brushing both Rodney and John. Teyla held them all, her hands covering all three.
They waited, quiet, and burst into laughter when the baby kicked, dancing beneath Teyla's heart.
On to Part 2
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