sparkles when you speak to me (sga | elizabeth/teyla)

[fiachairecht]

sparkles when you speak to me. stargate atlantis, elizabeth/teyla. oceanside cuddles and international relations theory. 1.1k words, rated t.

"Doctor Weir?"

It's not until Elizabeth looks up at the sound of Teyla's voice that she realizes Atlantis has grown dark around her. A glance at her watch lets her know it's nearly ten forty-five, and she winces at the thought of how long she'd been reading. It had been a relatively quiet day, no teams off world since Stackhouse had come back early in the afternoon, but ... "Teyla. Is something wrong?"

But Teyla's grinning at her, mischievous and gorgeous in the lights from the control room and Elizabeth's desk lamp, and no, nothing could be wrong when Teyla looks like that. "You did promise to be in bed two hours ago."

Well. Only that could be wrong. Elizabeth's own smile is embarrassed as she gestures towards the book on her desk. "Sorry. I got ... distracted."

"I see," Teyla drapes herself over Elizabeth's shoulder and grabs the book. “States, Nations, and the Great Powers: The Sources of Regional War and Peace." She raises an amused eyebrow. "That does not seem quite your usual style." Elizabeth's non-mission related readings tended towards linguistics and exploration these days. She had enough real war to deal with whenever the Wraith showed up to want to fill her hours off with theoretical war.

Elizabeth laughs, leans back against Teyla's shoulder. "It's not. Read the inscription."

"'For Elizabeth, so you know what our ivory enemies are doing while you battle the blue ones. Martha.' Hmm." She drops the book back on the desk and nuzzles Elizabeth's neck. "Should I be jealous?"

"Of my dissertation advisor?" Elizabeth can feel Teyla's smile against her skin. “Well, maybe if we'd met back when I was still in grad school."

Teyla's smile becomes a laugh, and Elizabeth allows herself to close her eyes and revel in the moment, glad that the crew in the gate room is minimal and well-occupied.

"So, what about your ivory enemies is keeping you up this time?" Teyla finally asks, and then immediately thinks the better of it when Elizabeth turns around with a special spark of professorial delight shining in her eyes.

"I am so glad you asked."

Teyla throws her head back in theatrical and entirely fake despair. "Is this the part where I remind you that you asked me to make sure you were out of the office and preferably in bed hours ago?"

"No," Elizabeth says, taking the book back and setting it firmly on the table behind them. "This is the part where I tell you why I despise the democratic peace theory."

"The democratic..." Teyla trails off and takes Elizabeth's offered hand. "I would ask, but I expect you will tell me more than I know how to ask about regardless."

It's a routine they're well used to by now, both of them too curious to stop asking questions and too deft with words to give short answers. "Of course," Elizabeth replies as they leave the office, the lights dimming and then flickering out in Atlantis' silent good night as they nod their own farewells to the crew. "Besides, I owe you for the monologue you gave me about economics on Tuesday."

"You enjoyed that," Teyla protests, and pretends not to notice that Elizabeth selects the far pier on the transporter's map rather than the one near her quarters.

Elizabeth pretends to consider that for just as long as it takes before the doors open onto the pier. "Only because I'd just come out of a three hour meeting playing referee to McKay and Zelenka."

This early in the summer the air is still cool by the water, and Elizabeth makes her way immediately towards the blankets that she and Teyla have started keeping out here for nights just like this, but the click of one of the city's heating units turning on is unmistakable. Teyla narrows her eyes in the direction of the noise. "I had not realised that the outdoor heating units were fixed."

"I don't know that we're the ones who fixed them," Elizabeth admits, setting up the blankets and pillows against the railings with practised ease. The water rushing against the pylons below murmurs agreement. "Atlantis likes us, you know."

"Another rival for my affections?" Teyla laughs, settling down and pulling Elizabeth with her. She tucks herself into Elizabeth's side, head on her shoulder, and hums quietly in contentment.

"Never," Elizabeth grins, running her fingers through Teyla's silky hair, wrinkling her nose as she manages to brush the hair a little too close to her mouth. "And I have the international relations theory explanation just for you to prove it."

Teyla reaches up to tangle her fingers with Elizabeth's and brings their hands down to rest in her lap. "What happened to going to bed?"

Elizabeth shrugs the shoulder that Teyla's head isn't resting on. "I don't remember you specifying my bed."

They don't sleep on the pier often, reserving their special place for nights that are either particularly good or especially terrible, and the rush of affection that wells in Teyla's chest when she realises this must be one of the first sort of nights for Elizabeth warms her more than Atlantis' heaters ever could. She tugs Elizabeth's head down for a soft, sweet kiss, feels her smile against her lips before releasing her. "Far be it from me to reject tokens of your affection. This democratic peace theory. Is it not rather difficult to define democracies?"

"Oh yes," Elizabeth agrees. "And peace, and war, and liberalism. And that's just for a start. Studying democratic peace theory is just an exercise in studying old men changing definitions to suit themselves whenever someone comes up with a counterexample."

"And is that different from any other sort of theory?" Teyla inquires, blinking up at her with a face of studied innocence.

Elizabeth laughs. "Probably not," she concedes. "But you would never have known that to hear some of the boys in my old New Democracies class sections at Georgetown talk."

Teyla frowns. "Athosian children do not stay in school for as long as your children get to, but they would never be so disrespectful."

Disrespect is better than some of the alternatives, Elizabeth thinks, but she doesn't have the heart for that sort of conversation tonight. "Well, it can be amusing sometimes. For instance, there's a few academics who can't stop arguing that the conflict between Finland and the United Kingdom during World War II only existed on paper and shouldn't be considered a war for purposes of the theory. The argument conveniently ignores a number of bombing runs made by British planes over Finnish territory, of course, which means..."

"How dare they," Teyla murmurs absently in offended solidarity. She traces meaningless patterns on Elizabeth's thigh with her thumb as she continues to talk, starting to slip into a sort of half-sleep right about the time Elizabeth slips into a tangent on the dangers of becoming too preoccupied with the administrative structure of elections.

The sky above them is neverending, the ocean below them bottomless and as the city's warmth and the breeze's chill swirl around them Teyla thinks that in the face of this sort of peace none other could ever matter.