Title: The Journal
Chapter Title: Military Lock
Special Note: Okay, ladies and menfolk, this is the tenth and FINAL chapter, and I'm sad to let the story go. Its like watching my kid graduate from high school or something! -sobs-

--O.O--

At Teyla's invitation, John perched on the edge of her bed and stared up at her, a mixture of excitement and high-anxiety gracing his features, and he made no attempt to conceal it. The woman sat next to him, far enough away so that it wasn't obvious, but close enough so they could both feel the electric exchange at the nearness of their two bodies to each other. John pulled his bottom lip into his mouth--a trademark habit when he didn't know what to do--and cleared his throat. Then, as if remembering himself, he set down the metal cups and wrestled the cork free of the wine bottle, then poured and passed one of the cups to Teyla, who sniffed the liquid appreciatively before taking a sip and smiling at the decadent taste.

"So," she said after a moment, "Is the wine named for the flowers?" She gestured to the bouquet of amarone lilies that still stood on her nightstand, and the now-crushed one that had served as a hair ornament.

John glanced over his shoulder at the flowers and blushed slightly, ducking his head, fingers playing with his cup. "I, um," he shrugged, "I'm not sure. I'm not really a wine expert."

"Nor am I," Teyla smiled warmly at him, mentally begging him to do something. "Though, I never say no to a warm glass come festival time. The Athosians make a fine mulled wine."

"Ah, yes," John chuckled, "I've had that wine. Tends to make the brain a bit foggy."

Teyla frowned and looked away, "Perhaps we should be drinking it instead."

The colonel seemed to catch the tone to her voice and his face fell. He was such an idiot. After everything that had just gone down, why did he walk in here and immediately start avoiding the real reason for his presence? Why couldn't he just... He sighed, "Teyla, I'm not good at...expressing..."

"Feelings," Teyla filled in, smiling slightly, "Yes, I do recall a similar discussion taking place." When John chuckled nervously and looked away, the woman sighed and put down her cup, "John, it is not as if you have anything to be nervous about."

His eyes came up to lock onto hers so suddenly that she was glad she'd put down her wine, because the shock probably would have made her drop it. The hazel orbs were now a haunting gray and filled with nothing but seriousness as they poured into hers, "I have everything to be nervous about."

Even though his gaze frightened her, Teyla couldn't bring herself to look away, "And why is that?"

"Because, doing this--whatever this is--would mean giving up everything I've ever been; the only things I could ever count on."

The Athosian drew back as if she'd been struck and looked down at her hands, lying motionless on her knees. Attempting to keep an even voice, she said, "I am sorry that you feel that way, John. I suppose I was under the impression that you could count on me."

"I know I can," the gentleness to his voice made Teyla look at him again, and he was smirking, "That's why I'm here." They stared at each other for a long while, not drinking, not moving, and each began to wonder if the other was even still breathing, or if every ounce of energy was diverted to their eyes, burning with the many thousands of things that had always sparked between them but had so long gone unspoken. Finally, John asked, "If you don't have any doubts about all of this, then why don't you make the first move?"

Teyla smiled, as if it were obvious. One hand came to take his free one, and she ran her fingers over the smooth skin there, "Because I read your entries, and I know that you want the first move for yourself. You need it." In that moment, she could have sworn she saw every resolve in John's body break, every sluice slain, and every tiny fraction of emotion come flooding toward her like a rushing river after a great rainfall. So quickly it couldn't be quantified, he slid his hand from hers and brought it to the side of her face, pushing back her hair and brushing his thumb against the softness of her cheek as he went, and he pulled her closer. With a gentleness that preceded the urgency of the past five-plus years, he pressed his lips against hers, light and warm, inhaling deeply through his nose at the sensation that raced through his body. And then he was ruined. Then he was made weak; made human. Vulnerable. He had relinquished all control.

Twisted his shoulder around in an unnatural fashion, he managed to place his cup on the trunk at the foot of the bed before bringing his now-free hand up to rest on Teyla's hip and draw her closer still. His pulled away for a brief moment to look into her wide, happy brown eyes before his lips came crashing against hers once more, this time harder, more desperate, and it almost startled him right out of the kiss when Todd's words came into his mind, "if you were burning alive, would you settle for just one drop of water? Or would you want more?" More, he decided. More, more, one-hundred times over, more.

Teyla reciprocated, and it was hard for her to believe that she'd never considered this before finding the journal. How could she think there was nothing between them? This...passion--this fire--it didn't just come from nowhere one day. It was seeded. It was fed. It grew. It festered beneath the surface, waiting to blossom in the light of day. The woman's hands slid up from her own lap to John's chest, grabbing at the collar of his dress shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him as close as possible to her, as if this thirst could be quenched by proximity alone. She kissed him back with all the intensity he put out, and didn't even think to stop him when he slowly began lowering her backward to lay on her bed. In fact, stopping him was the furthest thing from her mind; she was more focused on getting there more quickly. Her fingers slid down to the bottom of his shirt and undid the button there, then the one just above it. At this small bit of exposed flesh, she smiled against John's lips and ran her fingers over the smooth, tanned skin and dark brown curls that disappeared in either direction of his navel.

The colonel groaned when her fingers fell on his stomach, shivering, and let his tongue slip over his own lips and between hers, which she parted willingly, inviting him in, her own tongue swirling against his as if in battle. This was good. This was so very, very good. It was everything he had ever imagined. It was everything he had ever wanted. It was...too much.

No, no, no. Too much, too fast, but too good to pull away. Oh, god.

"John?" Teyla's breathless voice had reached his ears before he even realized he'd pulled back and was resting back against one elbow, eyes wide.

"I--" he looked down at her, and her passion and desire were both so strong and unabashed that he almost forgot what he was doing and moved in again, but he managed to stop himself. He tried to swallow, but his throat was drier than the hot desert that surrounded Atlantis four-hundred years in the future. He ran one hand through his hair, surprised to find it damp with sweat, "We shouldn't do this."

She immediately sobered, "I do not wish to discuss how this could effect our work--"

"No, that's not what I mean," he said quickly, with a breathless laugh. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead, then brought one hand up to push back the hair that stuck to her own sweat-soaked skin. "What I mean is: I've wanted this for a long time. And I know that, if I take it all right now, it won't be..." he smiled down at her, "Perfect. For both of us."

Teyla just stared up at him for a long time, and he was tempted to ask if he'd sprouted an extra head or a third eyeball or something like that. Finally, she smirked and shook her head, "You are truly a gentleman, John Sheppard."

He let out a breath of relief, "So, you're okay with waiting?"

"I am okay with waiting."

"But I should probably go, before--"

"Probably."

John laughed and stood up, pulling Teyla along with him. He went over to the bassinet and leaned down to brush a featherlight kiss against Tegan's cheek before walking to the door, Teyla right behind him. The door opened and he stepped out, then turned around, "You know what I don't understand?" Without waiting for her to reply, he said, "I didn't pack my journal to take with me to Earth. It was locked up in my desk when I left."

Teyla poked him in the chest in mock-defensiveness, "I did not break into your room, if that is what you are implying."

He caught her finger, "I wouldn't think of it," and then he pressed another gentle kiss against her lips before saying goodnight and returning to his own quarters. He had a smile on his face the whole way.

--O.O--

"Band-Aids are not all-purpose medical supplies," Jennifer told Ronon as they walked back to the expedition quarters from the infirmary. "If you need stitches, you need stitches, not a one-eighth inch square of guaze and a piece of tape."

Ronon laughed, shrugging, "I don't see what the big deal is. If it stops the bleeding, then I call it a--" He was stopped suddenly when the doctor's hand flew over his mouth and pushed him back against the wall of the corner they were about to round. Using her free hand, Jennifer pressed one finger to her lips and then pointed around the wall, releasing Ronon so they could both look.

There, standing outside of Teyla's room, kissing her, was Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. The two spies were both shaking with shocked and silenced laughter as they watched him walk away, swaying slightly out of ecstasy. Once he was gone, they resumed their walk.

"Well," Ronon said, "Considering how long it took for them to finally get together, that was pretty easy."

Jennifer scoffed, "For you, maybe. Do you know how hard it is to pick a lock on anything that belongs to a military man?"

--O.O--

A/N:
And that's it! Did you like it? Did you hate it? Please read and review!
Once again, I would like to thank everyone that has reviewed so far. You guys are the only reason I continue to write fanfics. Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou so much!
Also, I'd like to point out how funny/awesome I think it is that all of us SGA fans have automatically, simultaneously assumed that Teyla's baby will be named Tegan! So great! It just proves our obsession, too, because Teyla's father's name is mentioned...like...ONCE!