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thelonelylakeshadowshow. stargate atlantis, elizabeth/teyla. soft spooky moments underwater. 250w, rated t. for a prompt at sapphic summer 2024.
The shield has held for over a week in defiance of the dark ZPM in the control room. On the northernmost pier, Elizabeth can lean over the railing and feel it hum against her cheek like something living. Teyla's hand at her waist and her own caution keep her from making contact, but the desire is there, surging inside her like one of the waves whose power is not diminished by their depth.
"You should take more care." Teyla's breath is warm at Elizabeth's ear, the only thing these days that reminds her how cold her body runs in Atlantis. "We may be hidden from the Wraith, but there is no telling what else might be hidden from us here."
Elizabeth turns just enough to press their temples together, and lets her questions die on her lips. In the watery light Teyla's skin takes on a cool blueish tint that seems to leech the colour from her hair. Out of the corner of Elizabeth's eye, when the sunlight refracts against the shield, she could almost—
She isn't, of course she isn't, but the memory — anticipation — of the Wraith loom too large in Elizabeth's mind for the thought not to occur to her.
"The shield will hold against those as well," she says, and isn't sure which of them she means to convince. Isn't sure whether the rushing in her ears is blood or water.
She knows Teyla's lips are thin and the press of her teeth is sharp. It's enough.
The shield has held for over a week in defiance of the dark ZPM in the control room. On the northernmost pier, Elizabeth can lean over the railing and feel it hum against her cheek like something living. Teyla's hand at her waist and her own caution keep her from making contact, but the desire is there, surging inside her like one of the waves whose power is not diminished by their depth.
"You should take more care." Teyla's breath is warm at Elizabeth's ear, the only thing these days that reminds her how cold her body runs in Atlantis. "We may be hidden from the Wraith, but there is no telling what else might be hidden from us here."
Elizabeth turns just enough to press their temples together, and lets her questions die on her lips. In the watery light Teyla's skin takes on a cool blueish tint that seems to leech the colour from her hair. Out of the corner of Elizabeth's eye, when the sunlight refracts against the shield, she could almost—
She isn't, of course she isn't, but the memory — anticipation — of the Wraith loom too large in Elizabeth's mind for the thought not to occur to her.
"The shield will hold against those as well," she says, and isn't sure which of them she means to convince. Isn't sure whether the rushing in her ears is blood or water.
She knows Teyla's lips are thin and the press of her teeth is sharp. It's enough.
