tanaquific (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tanaquific) wrote2009-08-23 10:56 pm
tanaquific) wrote2009-08-23 10:56 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: SGA - No Contest - General
Title: No Contest
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: : Sheppard/Teyla
Rating: General
Words: 715
Summary: Even after twenty-five years of sparring together, Teyla can still always get the better of John. Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
cliche_bingo prompt "When I'm 64: Futurefic".
Author's Note: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scribblesinink and elena_tiriel for the beta.
oOo
John circled warily, twirling the Bantos stick in his right hand, while he held the one in the left ready to guard himself. Opposite him, Teyla made an experimental feint, but he'd learned in the past twenty-five years that she often used such moves as a prelude to launching an attack from an entirely different quarter. Instead of trying to counter it, he made his own move against her opposite side.
She easily deflected the blow. He tensed for her response, but she didn't make one, and he realized he'd been too cautious: she'd known he was holding back, anticipating a counter-attack. Of course, if he'd committed himself full-bloodedly, he'd probably be nursing a couple of cracked ribs right now.
They circled once more. Again, she feinted, and again he held back from responding, looking for the real move to come from another direction. She must have seen his hesitation because, with only the briefest of pauses, she continued her first lunge, catching him a sharp blow on his right forearm, while her other stick came round to sweep his legs from under him.
The Bantos stick in his right hand fell from his suddenly numbed fingers, while he tumbled backwards towards the mat. He let go of the stick in his left hand, not caring it would leave him completely defenseless, and grabbed his right arm, yelping in pain.
"John? Are you all right." Teyla pulled out of delivering the coup de grâce and dropped to her knees next to him.
"I think you busted my arm," he muttered through gritted teeth.
A familiar laugh from behind him did nothing to improve his mood. "Mother whupping your ass again?"
John tipped his head backwards and took in the upside-down figure of Torren, lounging in the doorway to the gym, his own Bantos sticks dangling casually from one hand.
"Torren...." Teyla warned him absently, as she ran her hand gently along John's arm. Addressing John, she added, "I do not think it is broken, but perhaps we should have it checked."
She helped John sit up. He muttered ruefully, "I'm too old for this."
Torren strolled into the room and jabbed him in the shoulder with his Bantos sticks. "You were always too old. Have you ever beaten her?"
"Once." John grimaced. "But I wasn't really myself at the time." That had pretty much been proof that having a large dose of Wraith DNA in your genetic makeup helped. Because even after he'd spent some time amongst the Athosians, and had lessons with the Bantos master who'd taught Teyla, he'd still been no match for her.
He slapped Torren's bare leg playfully. "You're one to talk. How many times have you beaten her?"
Glancing up, he saw it was Torren's turn to look annoyed. "A few times," he insisted. When John raised an eyebrow, he amended it to, "Okay, twice."
John got slowly to his feet, feeling his muscles protest and knowing that—as always these days—he'd pay for the sparring session the next day. But he enjoyed the sessions too much to give them up.
"Should we...?" Teyla was still supporting his arm, her hands warm on his bare skin.
John shook his head. "I'm okay. It was just the shock. But I think I'm done for the day. Why don't you give our young master here a lesson." He bowed sarcastically to Torren.
"If you are sure...?" Teyla peered up at him in concern. When he nodded, she stepped back, her fingers softly caressing his skin as she let go of his arm.
Settling himself on a bench to watch mother and son spar, John reflected that that was another reason he enjoyed their sessions. It was a way to be close to her. The mention of the one time he'd beaten her had brought back the memory of the one time he'd kissed. It had been quite... horrible, really. For him as well as for her, although more for her, of course. But he'd always wondered what it would be like to kiss her properly.
Torren's father had been dead five years now. John had helped Teyla mourn him, and he knew she still missed him, but maybe....
Maybe he should invite her out to dinner tonight?
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: : Sheppard/Teyla
Rating: General
Words: 715
Summary: Even after twenty-five years of sparring together, Teyla can still always get the better of John. Written for the
cliche_bingo prompt "When I'm 64: Futurefic".Author's Note: Thanks to
scribblesinink and elena_tiriel for the beta.John circled warily, twirling the Bantos stick in his right hand, while he held the one in the left ready to guard himself. Opposite him, Teyla made an experimental feint, but he'd learned in the past twenty-five years that she often used such moves as a prelude to launching an attack from an entirely different quarter. Instead of trying to counter it, he made his own move against her opposite side.
She easily deflected the blow. He tensed for her response, but she didn't make one, and he realized he'd been too cautious: she'd known he was holding back, anticipating a counter-attack. Of course, if he'd committed himself full-bloodedly, he'd probably be nursing a couple of cracked ribs right now.
They circled once more. Again, she feinted, and again he held back from responding, looking for the real move to come from another direction. She must have seen his hesitation because, with only the briefest of pauses, she continued her first lunge, catching him a sharp blow on his right forearm, while her other stick came round to sweep his legs from under him.
The Bantos stick in his right hand fell from his suddenly numbed fingers, while he tumbled backwards towards the mat. He let go of the stick in his left hand, not caring it would leave him completely defenseless, and grabbed his right arm, yelping in pain.
"John? Are you all right." Teyla pulled out of delivering the coup de grâce and dropped to her knees next to him.
"I think you busted my arm," he muttered through gritted teeth.
A familiar laugh from behind him did nothing to improve his mood. "Mother whupping your ass again?"
John tipped his head backwards and took in the upside-down figure of Torren, lounging in the doorway to the gym, his own Bantos sticks dangling casually from one hand.
"Torren...." Teyla warned him absently, as she ran her hand gently along John's arm. Addressing John, she added, "I do not think it is broken, but perhaps we should have it checked."
She helped John sit up. He muttered ruefully, "I'm too old for this."
Torren strolled into the room and jabbed him in the shoulder with his Bantos sticks. "You were always too old. Have you ever beaten her?"
"Once." John grimaced. "But I wasn't really myself at the time." That had pretty much been proof that having a large dose of Wraith DNA in your genetic makeup helped. Because even after he'd spent some time amongst the Athosians, and had lessons with the Bantos master who'd taught Teyla, he'd still been no match for her.
He slapped Torren's bare leg playfully. "You're one to talk. How many times have you beaten her?"
Glancing up, he saw it was Torren's turn to look annoyed. "A few times," he insisted. When John raised an eyebrow, he amended it to, "Okay, twice."
John got slowly to his feet, feeling his muscles protest and knowing that—as always these days—he'd pay for the sparring session the next day. But he enjoyed the sessions too much to give them up.
"Should we...?" Teyla was still supporting his arm, her hands warm on his bare skin.
John shook his head. "I'm okay. It was just the shock. But I think I'm done for the day. Why don't you give our young master here a lesson." He bowed sarcastically to Torren.
"If you are sure...?" Teyla peered up at him in concern. When he nodded, she stepped back, her fingers softly caressing his skin as she let go of his arm.
Settling himself on a bench to watch mother and son spar, John reflected that that was another reason he enjoyed their sessions. It was a way to be close to her. The mention of the one time he'd beaten her had brought back the memory of the one time he'd kissed. It had been quite... horrible, really. For him as well as for her, although more for her, of course. But he'd always wondered what it would be like to kiss her properly.
Torren's father had been dead five years now. John had helped Teyla mourn him, and he knew she still missed him, but maybe....
Maybe he should invite her out to dinner tonight?
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Aww, I love it! Future look at SGA and Teyla is still kickin' John's but (and a cute one it is... hehee)
Bravo! *claps*
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And I just had such a strong vision of John never getting the better of Teyla, even with more lessons and practice (there was a little hat-tip to Kelin and your "Demons" in there *g*). While also getting creakier himself as he gets older - all that whumping you lot put him through has to take it's toll....
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(I use this icon because it's my only Atlantis-related icon :))
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(I use this icon because it's my only Atlantis-related icon :))
And every time it gets my hopes up for more Jack/Lizzie fic from you (because I so loved the last one you did). *g*
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And yes, John -- ask her out. *g*
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I have a hard time seeing John and Teyla hooking up during canon, but I do like this idea of them finding each other when they're both much older: there's definitely enough attraction there that I can see their wonderful friendship turning romantic later in life.