fic: Adaptation [John/Teyla, PG-13]

[greenconverses]

Title: Adaptation 
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexuality.
Spoilers: None
Summary: John notices that Captain Emmagan isn't feeling quite like herself today. Not in the Stars universe fic, set during Season 2. 
Notes: This is what popped into my head directly after finishing Not in the Stars. Because Conversion based fics are so much fun. I should be working on my two prompt fics. *sigh*

Adaptation

John was meditating when Captain Emmagan walked into the gym twenty minutes late for their training session.

“I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” he said, cracking an eye open.

The Captain was flushed and sweaty; her neat bun a mess of curls and clothing rumpled. She was a far cry from her usual composed nature.

“Sorry,” she responded, throwing her gym bag on the bench and digging for her water bottle. “I went running with Ronon, and I lost track of time.”

“You went running with Ronon,” John repeated dryly, getting to his feet.

Captain Emmagan hating running for sport, unless it was on the Earth imported treadmill she had in her room. Few on base could handle running against Ronon, save John, the toughest of the Marines and Doctor Simpson who had been a “cross country” runner back on Earth.

“Yeah, I did, and I beat his ass down,” Captain Emmagan replied, taking a long drink from her bottle. “He’s such a jerk when he loses. Just like you are whenever I manage to get a good hit in.”

John arched an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Captain Emmagan to be so vocal and thoughtless about anyone on base, even those who annoyed her to no end.

“Are you feeling all right, Captain?”

It had been a day since the encounter with Ellia and most of the team had suffered some physical damage. John was still sporting a knot at the back of his head and a long scrape on his right leg. Captain Emmagan, on the other hand, had been fed on by the Wraith girl, or so it had appeared. Her shoulder looked healthy and normal from John’s perspective though, and he had been incarcerated with Carson enough to know when the good doctor would not let an unhealthy patient out of sight.

“I feel perfectly fine. In fact, I feel better than fine.” She responded, putting her water bottle down. “Carson said I checked out all right, but he put me on light duty just to be safe.”

“And light duty consists of running a marathon with Ronon and being beaten up by me?”

She gave him a wolfish grin. “I think you’ll be the one being beat up today.”

“Are you sure this is what Carson had in mind for your recovery?”

Captain Emmagan rolled her eyes, fanning herself with one hand.

“Since when have you been my keeper? Jesus Christ, can you stop with the third degree already?” she sighed. “God, it’s hot in here! Do you mind if I – ? Of course you don’t, never mind.”

John continued to stare at her. Was this the condition Lieutenant Cadman had referred to as word vomit?

Captain Emmagan reached for the hem of her sweat soaked shirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up except for a black bra and her silver dog tags. She tossed it onto the bench and reached for her staves.

The people of Earth were incredibly sensitive to the sight of the naked human body, so much so that both John and Ronon were no longer allowed to walk around the base shirtless. John was no stranger to bare skin, but even that could not save him from staring at the Captain. He had never seen her like this, so open and unguarded.

With her baggy shirt gone, it was hard to ignore her soft curves and gleaming skin. Captain Emmagan did not like to wear form fitting clothes like the other Earth women – she said she’d rather be judged by her character than the size of her bust.

“C’mon, you ready to get your ass kicked or what?” she said, twirling her staves far more brilliantly than John had ever seen.

He shook himself and he picked up his own staves. He followed her out to the middle of the gym, ignoring the sensual sway of her buttocks in her slinky ‘basketball’ shorts.

Captain Emmagan had been learning the Nodon fighting arts from him for over a year now, and while she was a good student and warrior, she was not as skilled as John in the use of traditional weapons. She could hold her own in hand-to-hand combat, but John usually held back when their fought with staves. The Captain insisted that he not , but as she was smaller and less skilled, her chances of receiving a serious injury were high.

John did not want to endanger his position on the Atlantis expedition by crippling the head of security. He often believed the Lanteans only kept him around because of his connection to the Ancestors.

Captain Emmagan’s lack of skill was not apparent today. She matched every one of his blows with ease and executed maneuvers far out of her range.

“Ouch!”

She gave him a sound swat on the buttocks with both her staves and swirled around, her grin challenging. John winced, discreetly rubbing the smarting flesh, and turned to face her.

“You have shown an incredible improvement, Captain. Have you been practicing with Ronon?”

“No,” she said. “And I told you to stop going easy on me!”

She attacked again.

As their spar wore on, her attacks became less playful and more aggressive and brutal. Her expression hardened and her eyes darkened with inexplicable fury. She did not pull her blows and John found himself expending more energy into blocking her attacks.

She caught him off guard with a brilliant maneuver and knocked his legs out from under him. He crashed to mat, groaning as pain erupted from the back of his head. The pain was quickly put out of his mind as Captain Emmagan clambered on top of him and straddled his waist. She dug her stave into his throat, forcing his head back to the mat, and barred her teeth.

“Yield,” she growled.

John could only nod his assent, her fierce and feral expression shocking him into silence. She did not ease the pressure for a few moments, until he was sputtering for breath. She pulled her stave back and then threw it aside. Her fingers clawed at his chest desperately before they tightened around his ring necklace, and she yanked him into a sitting position.

“Captain…?” he gasped warily, noticing the hunger in her dark eyes now. John had seen this look several times in other women, but never from the Captain and never directed at him.

She leaned forward, hovering over him, her loose hairs brushing against his bare chest. Hot breath fanning his cheek, she whispered in a seductive, low tone,

“Call me Teyla.”

John did not have time to respond – he barely had time to suck in a breath before she was kissing him, hard and fast. He stiffened against her immediately and tried to pull away, but one her hands dug into the back of his head and forced him back, her lips become more insistent against his. She rocked his hips against him and he felt his cock stiffen accordingly, but he refused to respond in areas he could control.

Captain Emmagan was not in control of herself and he was not going to add to this insanity by giving into his body’s desires –

She pulled away from him and snarled again. She slammed him back into the mat and leaned on him, her hands digging into his shoulders.

“Kiss me back!” she cried, her expression twisted gruesomely.

“Captain – ”

She silenced him with another violent kiss, crushing herself against him. Her breasts dragged against his chest and her legs tightened around his hips. She bit down at his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, and John had enough.

He grabbed her wrists and broke her hold on his shoulders. He bucked his hips and threw her off of him. She landed a few feet from him, face flushed and panting.

“What is the matter with you?” John demanded, his voice harsher than he intended. He sat up and touched his split lip carefully.

Captain Emmagan’s breath hitched unsteadily. She sat up, brushing her sweat soaked bangs out of her eyes, and John registered the change in her demeanor instantly. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and her lips were trembling with fear.

“I – I – ” she gulped. “I’m so sorry, John!”

She scrambled to her feet and ran toward the door, leaving John sitting on the floor where she had first found him.

John touched his lip again and glanced at his fingers, tipped with blood. He suddenly felt as though whatever had just happened with Captain…with Teyla was just beginning of something far worse.