Doxymom's Lair

Hi! Moving and Popcorn

2009-10-03T19:25:56Z

Life is a train barreling downhill. LOL. Gathering speed. Wind whistling in my ears. What am I up to?

Moving. Next Friday. Ack! Too much to do!

Selling popcorn: ala this: http://www.trails-end.com/estore/scouts/email_referral.jsp?id=3394257 If anyone is hungry, they ship directly to you. The chocolate carmel popcorn is downright dangerous. One bite and it holds your mouth open and the whole can jumps in.

Spent hours today with my son braving the horizontal wind-driven sprinkles to sell the stuff. I swear I felt some sleet before my nose and ears went numb. LOL.

Writing: I'm slowly switching my plans for Nanowrimo from my original, half-planned, profic to a Stargate Atlantis myth fic that's been poking at me for years. It would probably be the easier one to write, given I'll still be unpacking. LOL.

More writing: I'm "attending" the MuseOnline writing conference this month. You've heard of ringing ears after a great concert? This conference will give you ringing brain. LOL. I expect to learn a lot but be exhausted doing this, moving, selling, and planning for Nano simultaneously.

Glutton for punishment: I'm also signed up for a writing workshop end of October and another in November.

Oh. And I'm Girl Scout Cookie Mom this year.

Where's my cape and tights? LOL.

Fannish stuff for sale

2009-09-23T14:39:08Z

Hi!

I'm moving and hubby says "stuff" must go. So I'll add more to this later. I know I have a few fanzines somewhere that I'm finished reading.

All prices do NOT include postage. Buyer pays postage, please. I'd prefer to mail only to the US or Canada, because usually the things I mail overseas get lost.

Doctor Who magazine No. 108, Jan. 1986
--condition good, not pristine. $5.00 US.

Dune (the movie) Official Collectors Edition magazine. (1984)
--condition good, not pristine. 61 pages. Color. $5.00

Salvage 1 poster book magazine. #4. (1979)
--condition pretty good. Has wear along edges. Color. $4.00

Lethal Weapon 4, Script. Not a shooting copy, just a press release type copy. No pictures.
Excellent condition, not pristine. (1997) $4.00

X-Files comic books:

In pristine condition in plastic: #2, #5, and Annual #1: $4.00 each or $10 for all three.

In good shape, but not pristine and not in plastic: #2, #3, #4, Hero Illustrated Special, Special Ashcan Edition: $2 each

More later!

Email me at doxisrcool@aol.com if you're interested. Paypal payments are fine. Same addy for paypal.

Anna

This and That

2009-09-08T19:43:42Z

Hi!

Just finished reading: Centaganda by Lois McMaster Bujold. Liked it, but not the best in the series. The Vorkosigan series is my newest favorite. It's masterfully crafted. The characters are addictive. The world is detailed like a tapestry. This "ep" didn't capture me as much as all of the earlier, chronologically, novels, but it had some shining moments that will make me keep it. Miles' cousin, Ivan, is precious. I hope he eventually gets a story of his own.

Reading now: Downhome Zombie Blues by Linnea Sinclair. Linnea's such a sweet and creative person on her list and in workshops. I love her personality and it does shine through in her stories. This one is starting a tad slowly for me, but I'm sure once I get into it I'll zip through all 400+ pages of this science fiction romance as fast as my tot allows me. Which means I'll be zipping like a turtle. LOL.

RL: we're moving! Well, unless crap happens, then I'm just cleaning house! LOL. Did the first room today, touching every single thing in it. I was shocked by how disgusting a room that looked clean could actually be. Yuck.

Anyway, must dash!

Have a great day, everyone!

Anna

Defying Gravity

2009-08-31T00:08:43Z

Has anyone but me been watching this new science fiction show? It's called Defying Gravity, Sunday nights on ABC. It's on hulu if you've missed it. The general storyline is that Earth has sent a group of male and female astronauts on a six year tour around the solar system.

It's character-based and they all have their quirks and skeletons. There are exes on board, a drunk with ptsd, and an alien something somehow directing the whole thing.

I admit, the first ep was hard to follow for me. There's a lot of jumping back and forth with flashbacks. But I gave it a chance and watched and now I think the characters are cool, the relationships deep, and I had tears in my eyes at the end of ep 5.

It's not a shoot em up or full of fancy tech, but it's a good character story.

Give it a chance!

Last night's ep was excellent in terms of character development. This show has a hard sf, realistic sf, backdrop but is mainly a show about the characters. I've seen some complaints that it's like a soap opera, but to me it's not a "who has sex with who" story. The character stories are very realistic so far. And they take place over a period of 5-10 years, which makes it even more realistic.

I thought the ep last night, Bacon, was extremely well done. It was almost like reading a book. LOL. And I love to read!

Anna

Hi!

2009-05-05T16:32:52Z

I'm still alive!

I didn't realize I hadn't posted here this year. Wow. Bad me. I've been swamped. Took two difficult writing workshops that helped, but also told me my original fic needs a lot more TLC.

I've decided to concentrate on writing fanfic again for a while. Use the lessons I learned in my workshops to hone my skills that way. Margie Lawson is an AWESOME teacher! I'm also going to go back to attempting nonfiction articles for pay. I really want to get some publishing credits and write off part of the cost of my replacement computer. Yes, my 2 yr-old computer died a sudden, premature death. The joys of the new-type processors, the Geek Squad said. They can die at any moment, even straight out of the factory.

Yay, Bill Gates.

I suppose it keeps him out of the poor house, though.

So, what fandoms is everyone following now? I still adore SGA (sniff, sniff), Farscape, Earth2, Andromeda (with Rommie!), Doctor Who, and Torchwood. Primeval unexpectedly waylaid me to become a favorite too. I love NCIS and House, but probably won't write for them. I'm into Stardoc (books), the Skolian Empire, and the Vorkosigan series. I hope to do a lot of catch up reading this summer.

I actually would love, love, love to write something as classy and deep as the Vorkosigan series. It has it all for me: SF, Romance, humor, action, politics, aliens...in the amounts I like.

I'm currently collecting all of the Dr. Who, Torchwood, and SGA books I can find. I figure Primeval will be out soon too and I'll be compelled to add a library to my house. LOL.

Anyway, I'm brainstorming Gen SGA for a zine, hopefully, plus a fic featuring the Alt!team with Rep!Weir, and have a weird SGA fic started.

I've decided that all nine of my original novels must be trashed, save a few scenes, characters, settings and general plots. Perhaps I'll resurrect some this summer.

Must dash!

Happy days and hope to you all!

Stay well!

Anna

Happy New Year!

2008-12-31T15:18:06Z

Hope you all have a safe and fun holiday! 2009 will be great for all of us!

Hey, I have a favor to ask. Would you all mind voting for me in a contest to win a financial planner from a blog. All you have to do is post a comment saying "I vote for AnnaM" here: http://gailvazoxlade.com/blog/archives/293#comments

The two people with the most votes will win one. The lady is really nice, though, so there's the possibility she'll give a third planner. You have to have at least 20 votes to be in the running.

Thanks!

Have a wonderful New Year's Eve! No parties for me.

Anna

FIC: SGA JT: Lace and Combat Boots, PG, 1/1

2008-08-02T20:19:27Z

Category: fic
Title: Lace and Combat Boots
Author: Doxymom
Rating: PG
Warning: spoilers up to Broken Ties.
Size: 882 words
File Format: text
Comments: This is for Beya's Black and White challenge.

Lace and Combat Boots
_____________________

Teyla cradled baby Torrin close, marveling at this perfection that came from her. The four month-old nuzzled her skin, rooting and latching on almost effortlessly as he had from day one.

"He's a boy!" Doctor Keller had crowed. "Knows right where the...uh...food is."

They had shared a laugh, but Jennifer was correct. Torrin knew how to do what she only vaguely knew how to teach him. "It will be much easier," she told him softly, "when you are old enough to hold a bantos."

Torrin blinked at her and she wondered again how much he understood her thoughts. That time in the Hive ship, their thoughts had definitely touched. He had given her an extra burst of strength to hold out against the Wraith Queen. It was a connection unsought by her, but freely given by him.

Wraith.

DNA.

Telepathy and Michael's prophecy.

It was too much. She would not think of it. Her child was NOT a mutant created by a monster to help take over the universe. No!

He was exquisite and normal and good--above all, good.

To clear her head she stood and padded on bare feet to the open sliding door and onto the balcony. The warm evening breeze lifted the loose tendrils of her hair about her face, tickling her cheeks.

Hearty laughter pulled her toward one edge of her balcony and she peered over.

The next tower, some quarter mile away, had a large flat surface a dozen feet below her level. It was now jammed with men, shirtless, sweaty men, playing basketball. Lorne, Ronon, Daniels, Chuck--she saw-- and John Sheppard. Shirtless, black pants riding low on his hips, muscles gleaming with sweat.

She swallowed hard against a sudden lump in her throat.

He never said, a little voice inside her whispered...never said.

She sighed, leaned back and let the sun-warmed wall spread soothing heat through the thin fabric of her dress. The men reeled and ducked, spun and leapt, the game an exhilarating dance.

She glanced down at Torrin. The setting sun painted a rosy glow on his chubby cheeks. She tucked her dress around him so no one could see her body and angled herself to watch the beauty of the men. John missed the ball, dodged, ran and stole it again from chuck. He leapt gracefully into the air, stomach muscles stretching taut, hip bones visible as his trousers slipped a little more. Her breath caught of its own accord. He tossed the ball into the hoop. Scored.

She smiled and inhaled, realizing she had stopped breathing for a moment.

Her heart raced, smile faded, thoughts began to race. "Teyla, do not be so foolish," she said aloud. With John she had run the gamut of emotions over the years since they had met--intrigue and lust, awe and respect, friendship and trust, finally, hope for love. But that was not to be. Not yet. Perhaps never. Perhaps only in her mind because he, he had never said. Her fear of rejection and her people's customs said it was too forward of her to ask him how he felt. Her fear of commitment and fear of losing him as she'd lost everyone else she loved ramped up that fear until she froze at the idea of asking him.

Finally, she accepted that he did not reciprocate her feelings or he would have told her. He flirted with many women. He kissed a few and even asked her blessing, sort of, for a date with Chaya.

Then there was the talk. Ladies Poker Night. Many women, a changing roster, most saying how handsome he was, how he'd flirted or how they imagined he'd flirted, speaking of his ease with women.

He told her nothing. He never said. She had to conclude he did not find her attractive. She would not have the white lacy dress the other women spoke of when they discussed love.

But a woman could not live alone forever. She had needs. So she gave in to the comfortable, the known, the similar. Now she had a mundane off-duty life with the man most like her in the galaxy.

She had not yet figured out why she got an upset stomach whenever she thought she should ask Kanaan to live with she and Torrin.

Nor why Kanaan had not asked to stay.

Cheers drew her attention back to the game. Unbidden, her gaze locked onto John. He ran both hands through his unruly dark hair and left two trails of spikes standing straight up.

She grinned. He looked so young. Longing heated her belly. It was a desire to smooth his hair down, she told herself. yes. That was the only urge. She ignored the other feeling of prickling heat through her body.

She would never have that lacy dress, but she had consistency, someone who would not argue when diapering time came, and she had a good friend in John who would stand by her whether she donned her combat boots or not. That was better, was it not? Better than foolish dreams and passion?

Mostly, she had hope for the future. She had the way John's gaze sometimes stayed on her a bit too long. She had her son.

Below her, John Sheppard scored again.

The End.

Fic: Follow Me, G, 1/1 Happy fluff SGA John/Teyla pre-ship

2008-07-28T21:57:26Z

Title: Follow Me
Author: Doxymom
Rating: G
Spoilers: none--set anytime you want.
AN: This is just a little fluffy bit that hopefully people don't think is too stupid. John, sorry that I don't think I did your song justice. I may try again later.

Un-beta'd.

~~~~~~~~
Follow Me
~~~~~~~~

John whistled a bouncy tune as he polished the board with long strokes. It gleamed in the bright sunlight. The sinewy muscles in his back rippled as he worked.

Teyla reclined into the silken sky blue sand and smiled an indulgent smile. He was magnificent and he did not even know it. He swiped sweat off his forehead. His dark hair spiked. She allowed herself a shiver because there was no one to see and John was trying hard not to look at her.

She laughed too softly him to hear. The bik-kee-nee as Doctor Heightmeyer called the tiny garment, glowed yellow against her skin. It covered so little that she could not bring herself to show it until she was here with John, alone.

"When is the lesson to start?"

He looked up, appearing as cute as a young boy caught daydreaming in lessons. Except for the sweat. And the muscles. And the sexy lopsided grin.

Breath alluded her for a moment. When it finally came she shuddered under the impact of his gaze.

Luckily, he did not seem to see for he turned to gaze out at the violet sea, one hand shading his eyes. The giant swells that caressed the baby blue sand pleased him. The lines of his body relaxed. He turned and gave her that smile that always threatened to demolish her personal control.

She returned the smile. He blinked rapidly. Did he shiver? No. Surely not. His gaze dipped to her yellow bikini then immediately back up to her face. He cleared his throat and stood the flame-painted red board on its end.

"Yep. Time's come. You gonna wimp out on me?"

She pressed herself up out of the sand, slowly so she did not fall into the silken stuff and get it all over her. She brushed it off her hands and found him staring at her, but only for a moment. His gaze darted back to the sea as soon as she looked at him. A rush of warmth spread through her. It always pleased her to find him watching her. If only he would follow custom and make the next move. Did he not find her as pleasing as she found him?

"I look forward to the challenge of learning all you are willing to teach me," she said, keeping her tone light and a small smile on her lips.

He head whipped around and he gaped at her, brows raised, mouth open. He closed it and swallowed hard. Confusion swirled within her. Did she make another cultural faux pas?

"With the surfing." She gestured to the board.

"Good." He held out his hand. She took it. He led her into the cool water. "We have to go beyond the breakers."

His skin was slightly rough against hers. The sand shifted beneath her feet and she gripped his hand tightly. He raised his arm and held her up. When the waves broke against her midsection and threatened to knock her off her feet, he slipped a strong arm around her waist. She gasped and pretended it was the chill of the water. She grasped his shoulder as he helped her to straddle the board.

He seemed unwilling to meet her eyes. She caught his gaze skimming her wet body and suppressed an uncharacteristic giggle. Her head whirled with giddy pleasure. The tangy wind whipped hair back with warm fingers. The red sea birds dove and called around them. White clouds scudded by, fluffy and playful. His steadying hand slipped over her wet skin, the board tossed and unstable, but he held her firm, safe.

He swam out farther, pushing the board toward the highest swells.

"It's time. I'm coming up so hang on."

She gripped the slippery board with fingers gone white. She could swim, yes, but these waves were strong and the water deep here. They had no idea what sea creatures lurked on this world. With a gush of water and drips all down her front, he burst from the sea and stood before her, extending a hand down to her.

"Let's go." She took his hand and he pulled her up, guiding her hand to his hip. "Hold on."

Breathless for a moment, she could only nod. The swell rushed them toward the shore. Wind whistled in her ears. She grabbed his other hip and held on tightly, his laughter mingling with the wind.

It was quickly. He guided her to sit, and turned, eyes sparkling. "Wasn't that great?"

"Wonderful!" And she meant it. The day, the sun, the surfing... "It was exhilarating."

It was quickly ending. He guided her to sit, and turned, eyes sparkling. "Wasn't that great?"

"Wonderful!" And she meant it. The day, the sun, the surfing. "It was exhilarating."

"We'll go again as soon as I catch my breath."

Something beyond his shoulder caught her attention. "John, is that a storm on the horizon."

He glanced at it. "Don't worry. Everything's all right."

His smile was infectious and she did not know why she trusted him so completely in this. He was very different from all the men she had ever known.

Their gazes lingered for a few seconds too long. Then he turned away and paddled them out over the violet swells for another go.

And she was happy.

Finis.

FIC: No Happy Ending G 1/1 SGA: John/Teyla

2008-07-27T17:51:47Z

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT U.S. EPISODES.

Title: No Happy Ending
Author: doxymom
Rating: G
Spoilers: Broken Ties and all before it, sort of.
Archiving: JTConvergence, anywhere else, please ask. Thanks.
Author's note: I'm not as fatalistic as this sounds.

It's meant to be a moment in John's POV about how HE sees his lost chances with Teyla. Me, the author, well I'll always have hope. BTW, I'd love someone to take this concept--John feeling hopeless after Broken Ties--and use this song to make a video.

**A bit depressing for shippers!!!**

Don't worry, I'm trying to work on a happy one next. ;-)

~~~~

No Happy Ending

"This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No happy ending."
----Happy Endings by Mika

I always thought I had time. I could still tell her. Thought she knew in her own way without me telling. Then she turned up with a secret lover and I was left reeling. It was far too late to tell her how I was feeling.

In the half light she cradles the baby. His little fingers play with her hair. He should be mine. He should be ours. If I weren't such a coward, lost in denial, they'd both be in my arms tonight.

The stone is cold, biting into my back, the moonlight merciless. The ghost of her stalks my nights.

He comes to hold her. She leans into his shoulder and I've lost her forever.

The curtains fall on my dreams; their firelight flickers and their silhouettes press close.

Passion lost blasts me. I squeeze out the pain and tears burn, but I won't falter. I'll work beside her each day. Let the what-ifs rain on me and run off. I'll never tell her unless she asks me. Can't ruin her love. And I'll pray she doesn't want my blessing.

I need to fly.

"This is the way that we love
like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our lives
but not together."

Fic: Original. Character history snippet

2008-07-06T15:01:32Z

Hello,

For my Club100 challenge yesterday this little background snippet came to me. The characters are in an original WIP I'm working on. It's SFR, meaning a Science Fiction Romance. This is from a defining moment in his history. This is a lot more "horror" than the actual book.

Hope it's interesting.

Please, DO NOT BORROW ANY OF THIS because it's all subject to ending up in my novel.

Thanks!

>>>>>

The sky screamed.

Morgann dove for cover behind a three wheeled all-terrain jeep. Keller dropped in beside him, breathing hard, sweaty, stinking. But they were the last two. The only ones left of forty soldiers.

"What is it? What the blazes is it?" His brown eyes were wide and frantic, glassy. He'd lose it in a moment, go ballistic and make a suicide run.

Morgann pitched his voice low, soft. "It's the enemy."

"Which one? Which blazin' one?"

"The one that's gonna drag us off if you don't shut up!" Morgann shifted his grip on his Pel20 las-pistol and prepped to break cover and take a shot at the bastards.

Keller's breathing alone was loud enough to give away their position, he thought bitterly.

Go on one, two, th--

The screaming stopped.

Morgann froze. Listened.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the soft whimpers Keller made.

A tiny sound brought a cold sweat to his brow.

Tink. Faint and metallic. Claws on metal.

Tink. The other side of the jeep.

Tink. The roof.

Morgann shrank down into a defensive crouch. Slowly, he looked up at the roof of the rusted jeep, and into the eyes of Hell itself.

~End history snippet~

Hi!

2008-06-29T21:47:33Z

Alrighty, I was doing so well on the Club100 writing challenge. And darn it if I didn't get some weird head cold that left me so dizzy I could barely stand nevermind type. LOL.

So, I have to start all over.

Tomorrow will be my new Day 1.

I've alloted myself one floating day off per week so if I get too sick to write again I don't have to start the 100 days over.

In other news...just finished reading Match Me if You Can by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. Excellent book. Contemporary Romance normally makes my skin crawl, but this was so snarky and funny that it caught me from the first paragraph. I couldn't put it down.

I just started reading a good SF book that I suspect is supposed to be Young Adult, but it reads like a regular SF to me. It's called The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm by Nancy Farmer. The back cover blurb doesn't do the SF detail in the book justice. It's very detailed and well done so far. I'm only about a 1/4 through. I'll be looking up more of her work.

Did anyone see DW last Friday? The Forest of the Dead. Loved it! I can't believe how much I loved this two-parter. The ending was perfect. Perfect! To me. I wish I could write something so original and creative! I've always liked Doc 9 the best, but after this ep, I think Doc 10 is now running even with him, if not ahead by a bit.

And I like Donna. Didn't think I'd like her after Runaway Bride, but as a regular, she's my favorite new series companion yet...well, I liked Kylie Monogue's (sp?) character too.

Can't wait for DW and Torchwood and SGA to come back on.

Well, must go.

Take care, everyone!

Doxy

FIC: SGA: JT: Day 18

2008-06-19T21:02:28Z

Title: Winter
Author: Doxymom
Rating: PG-13 for violence and theme.
Pairing: implied UST for John/Teyla
Summary: Perceived failure brings winter to John's heart.
Note: my 100 Days challenge, day 18. Prompt is Winter from FF100 table.

Winter
___________

"Teyla, no!" he yelled, sprinting toward her. His vest constricted against his chest. His lungs burned.

She turned as if in slow motion. Pushed off to run to him. Trust light her eyes.

Soundless in flight.

She jerked, surprise widening her eyes. She coughed, stopped, suspended like a broken marionette.

Someone shouted. Himself? Gunfire. His.

The bushes on the ridge behind her exploded in plumes of shredded leaves, crimson flower petals raining like blood drops.

He slid on his knees in front of her, caught her as she fell. Her gun, unused, gashed his ear as she settled. He didn't care. Sleeping Beauty cradled in his arms. Her eyes closed, lashes curled against cheeks draining of color as he watched. No blood marred her front. He turned her gingerly. An arrow shaft, thin as a finger, long as his forearm, protruded from her lower back.

"Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me," he crooned low and soft, mindlessly, fumbling with the damned wrapper on the dressing. Dropped the bandage. So little blood...on the outside. Can't pull the arrow out. Rips more coming out than going in. Stabilize it. Break the shaft off closer to the skin. Easier that way.

The attackers? Screw them. He'd be with her if they shot again. Cool. Her face felt cool. Ice dripped down from his brain and coursed through his veins. She couldn't die. He hadn't told her yet. Had to save her. Couldn't fail her. He shivered. Shut down. Went numb. She was too still. Too cool. Fading.

Pressure, wrap, pressure, croon.

She moaned.

He inhaled sharply. Frozen. Silent. Waiting.

She whimpered.

"Teyla?" he whispered, hopeful, fearful, waiting.

"John?" She didn't move. "Are you injured?"

He smiled. Relief flooded through him. Her sun warmed him. "Let's get you to the doc."

"What about..."

"I think I got 'em." He stood and gently arranged her in his arms. "Don't worry. I've got you."

The End.

FIC: SGA: JT: Lightening Day 17

2008-06-19T20:59:20Z

Title: Lightening

Author: doxymom

Rating: PG-13 for adult themes.

Spoilers: Season 4 **set during the ep where John goes to the future, or maybe the one after.

Summary: Teyla, Michael, little one, hints of unresolved John/Teyla.

Note: My 100 Days challenge. Day 17. Prompt from the FF100 table. **I do believe they meant Lightning, the atmospheric condition, however, Lightening is also a real word. So, I took the prompt at face value.

<<<<

Lightening

___________

I will not break, Teyla thought. I will not give him anything.

She gritted her teeth but otherwise did not allow Michael to see her nerves. The dimness of the Hive ship gave her a headache, despite the weeks she had been there.

Where was her rescue? John was like a bul-dugger, that relentless, single-minded digging creature of the Athosian deserts. He would never stop trying to save her if he knew she still lived.

Did he think her dead?

She frowned, rubbed her swollen belly to ease the achy muscles. She both wanted the babe to come and did not. His arrival would be joyous, bittersweet. But his arrival meant she was disposable.

She detested feeling helpless. She had tried every method she could to escape--anger, brute force, defiance, negotiation--every method save one...cooperation. Michael had made clear to her his motivations. Some part of him, the human part, was attracted to her and had been since day one in the medical lab in Atantis. Her duty was to charm him, make him feel at ease, and to determine if the Wraith still lived inside him. She frowned wryly. It was the first time she could say she had done her duty too well.

Michael not only wanted her baby for megalomaniacal reasons, but he wanted her to be his queen, wiling or not.

She was lucky he was afraid to hurt the baby or she might have been forced into servitude like Kanaan, or worse things. Her belly convulsed again. She bit her lip, willing the enemy to not notice the lightening. Her son had dropped in preparation for birth. He was entering the birth canal.

Her time was running out.

A hated chuckle came from behind her.

"Are you comfortable, Teyla," Michael asked, sauntering into view.

"Release me and I shall be comfortable." She tugged on the leather strap securing her hips to the medical bed. She had broken nails and bruised fingers from trying to loosen it. Nimbleflies fluttered in her belly, and bile rose in her throat. She would have to cooperate.

He leaned close to her, his grayish face bringing her childhood nightmares to the fore. She refused to flinch, meeting his gaze steadily.

He raised a hand and lightly caressed her cheek. "There was a time when I thought you were happy to see me." He laughed hollowly, a lonely and vicious sound. "I thought you could love me."

She faked a deep sigh. It was time to pretend. "I did...find you attract, Michael, as a human."

His brows rose in surprise. He smiled, showing pointed animalistic teeth. "You did."

A statement. He did not believe her.

"As a human, you were quite handsome." A loathsome admission but not a lie.

He smoothed her hair back from her face. "And now? As more than human?"

She slowed her racing heart, hiding her fear, hiding her desire to rip his arms off. She would be no use to her child as a zombie. "I find it difficult to see past the Wraith in you." The truth. He would know the truth. She guarded her thoughts of revulsion and rebellion. He could touch her mind and would only see the parts she wanted him to see.

She gazed at him, consciously softening her expression. "What, exactly, do you propose?"

He stared at her. "You have changed your mind?"

"I do not wish my child to be motherless."

One corner of his wretched mouth curved into a mockery of a grin. "The mothering instinct. At last." He straightened, but did not leave her side. "I propose that we marry. You rule the galaxy at my side. Oversee the hybridation process. Help me build a new, better race. Allow our children to be the new, better, power and end the war that has raged for too many eons."

She let out a shaky breath. "That is all?"

He blinked. Tilted his head. Broke into gales of laughter. "You're joking. That's a good sign. You realize you'll have no need of Atlantis again. The Earthers can return home and leave us to our own galaxy. You'll be THE queen of Pegasus and have all that entails." He leaned close to her. "Do you agree?"

She swallowed hard and hid her murderous thoughts deep inside her. "Yes," she whispered.

He sighed.

Then he kissed her, his sharp teeth scraping her lips, drawing a pinprick of blood. The iron taste strengthened her resolve and for some reason John Sheppard's face popped into her mind.

She suppressed the image quickly. He might see it and take revenge upon John. This was a deal with the Devil, as John would say.

He kissed her deeply, passionately. She shivered with loathing, but allowed him to do this. As he kissed her, he released her bonds. He pulled back, happy.

"It's so much better this way."

She sat up, rubbing her waist and stretching. "Yes. It is." Plans whirled deep in her mind, but she hid them, kept her surface thoughts light and superficial.

He took her hand and helped her down from the table.

"You can start with a bath, a change of clothing. I have a regal gown prepared already. And then we can discuss the imminent birth of our son."

Ice water ran down her spine, chilling her to the bone. She knew she could only lie so much before he would know. "The babe has lightened." And so had her plans.

"Yes."

They walked through a corridor that neared a junction to the docking bays. She glanced at it longingly. With a hand on her elbow, he steered her away.

"After you change and eat, we'll go to the surface for more tests and then," he smiled down at her and actually patted her arm, "I'll take you to the planet that'll be the seat of our new Empire."

He left her at a door with a guard outside it.

She watched him leave, her mind made up to kill him as she escaped. Her deep-seated plans bubbled to the surface, lightening her mood as they solidified.

All she had to do was get him alone for a moment on the surface of a planet.

All she had to do was wait.

The End.

**If you saw the end of S4 you can tell where this leads.

FIC: SGA: JT: Spirit Day 16

2008-06-19T20:55:08Z

Title: Spirit
Author: Doxymom
Rated: G
Spoilers: none
Season: any
Summary: Someone familiar accompanies John and Teyla on a mission.

Note: this little bit of fluff was written for a 100 days challenge I'm doing. Basically I agreed to write at least 100 words a day for 100 days. I got the prompt "Spirit" from the Fanfic100 table, but there's no way I'll write 100 fics. Sorry.
---------------------------------------------------

Spirit
------

Woof.

The tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Sweat trickled down his spine. 'Get a grip, John,' he thought. 'There are no dogs in Pegasus.'

Woof.

He exchanged a look with Teyla. Confusion marred her regal features. Her gaze darted over the shadowed books, the high ceiling, the long, dark hall. When her eyes met his she shrugged.

"You heard that too?"

"A sharp sound? There but somehow...not there?"

"Like you're reading inside your head?"

"Yes." She nodded, aiming her rifle down the hall.

Woof.

"Crap. I hoped I was imagining it." He shivered. "Funny thing is," he said aloud just to stave off his nerves. "It sounds like Shadow."

"A shadow does not make such a sound."

He almost grinned. "Not A shadow. Shadow. My dog."

She cocked her head at him quizzically. "A four-legged furry creature?" She looked at him as though he were crazy. There were no pets on Atlantis and even if there were they would not be on a mission to a rumored enemy outpost.

"Was...my dog." He shifted his grip on his rifle, glanced at her. "Was," he whispered.

She blinked rapidly, his meaning sinking in. She peered at the walls with wide-eyes.

Woof! Woof!

Louder. Too loud. Shadow's warning bark. Closer. Something ran at him. He whirled. Nothing there. Still, he felt...

"Teyla, run!"

Without question she spun and bolted toward the exit and the 'Gate in the courtyard.

He followed close behind her. At the far end of the building doors slammed open. Searchers!

He secured the outer door. Teyla had the 'Gate dialed before he reached her. She watched him approach, then dashed through the iris.

Woof.

He skidded to a halt on the precipice, turned. From the corner of his eye he swore he saw a small black dog, pink tongue lolling, tail wagging. When he looked directly, nothing was there.

But he was.

"Thank you for the warning, Shadow," John whispered.

He stepped through the 'Gate.

-----------

This story is dedicated to my sweet pup, Shadow, who passed away last year but hasn't completely left me.

FIC: SGA: JT: Who Knew Day 13

2008-06-19T20:53:24Z

Title: Who knew
Author: Doxymom
Rating: PG for one swear word
Spoilers: Vague allusions to things in the last season, if you interpret it that way. Future fic.
Warning: implied character death.

It's been too long. Too much procrastination. Too many lies of omission. You thought I never forgave you. I did. Damn my stupid hide for not telling you. Too much stupid pride or fear of whatever...rejection, commitment, failure.

He's three now, Teyla. I wish you could see him. Everyone says he looks like me, but Talon looks like you. What a sweet reminder of a night you seemed to want to forget. Wish we could have talked about it. Who knew we'd have so little time? I've been telling him about his mother, the Queen of the Athosians. Beautiful, strong, brave. You fought the evil Wraith King and his minions single-handedly and won. Okay, so I embellished a bit. The final chapter, well, I won't tell him until he's older.

Look at him run. He's as nimble and strong as you were.

I'm already teaching him the bantos.

Sometimes I swear I see you guiding his hand.

Writing!

2008-06-19T20:51:11Z

Hi! Don't know if I mentioned that I've joined a list called Club100. It's mission is to make writing a daily habit. You promise to write at least 100 words for 100 days. I'm on Day 18.

At first it was really hard (okay, it's still hard with the kids home giving me migraines) and all I could think to write was family history stories. But now, I've found my SGA muse and written a few fluffy scenes. Not drabbles, since they're more than 100 words each, but not full stories either.

So, I'll post them here to record them.

Sound okay?

I can't be sure my muse will continue to give me SGA because Dr. Who and Torchwood are heavy on my mind also. :-D

But whatever it gives I'll post them here.

Reading?

2008-05-23T02:53:22Z

Sorry I've been gone so long. RL's a chaotic mess sometimes.

What am I reading?

Walking on the Moon by Susan Sizemore. It's SFR, Science Fiction Romance. 205 pages with a cover that I adore. I debated buying this book for a long time but kept coming back to how much I love the cover.

So far, the premise is unique: Imagine a Rachel Ray-esque TV cook being kidnapped by hungry time-traveling aliens (humans) because her chili looks yum-o! LOL. Yeah. It's a fun premise and there's humor in the story so far. I admit I'm only on page 75, but it's a fast read. It's not the most professional story (compared to the Susan Grant I finished last week), but it's fun and engaging. I hope to have it finished in a day or so.

I also started Karen Traviss' City of Pearl yesterday. It's a harder SF book and at 400 pages, it'll take quite a bit longer to read. I admit, the prologue, told in the POV of a non-human alien, captured my attention immediately. This is the first in a six+ book series. I can't wait. I love epics! I love aliens! I love SF! I don't know if this one has any romance in it. It would be nice, but not a prerequisite.

Still trying to read an SGA book whose name I have now forgotten. It's a good book, but it's my CAR book and since the weather's been nice, and gas prices way too high, I've been walking, not driving and waiting in my car for the kids. Thus, no reading of the car book.

I may have figured out what's wrong with my original fic and why I always stall out. I love SF. To write an SFR, you have to write it as Romance first and I'm having a darned hard time doing that because I keep writing SF first. You can't just go back and plump up the R in the equation. No, it's written in a totally different way. I'm still trying, but I may just admit to myself that I can't tame the beast.

Must dash. Nice to chat with you all. Hope life's been good to you!

Doxy

Fic, SGA, John/Teyla PG-13, for Choc_fic

2008-03-25T21:39:15Z

Title: Brilliant Disguise
Author/Artist: Doxymom
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for S4 up to Outcast
Word count: 3298
Summary: Prompt: You play the loving woman; I'll play the faithful man. (But don't look too closely.)
A/N: This is basically a character study. Hope you don't want a lot of plot!

"Violetten custom allows only betrothed adults to speak with their leaders. If you do not wish the role, I shall ask Major Lorne."

She whirled on her heel and stalked off in the opposite direction.

For a few long, silent moments, she thought he would not take the bait. Would actually let her have Lorne pretend to be her betrothed. And when he did not follow, she knew he would not help her.

Fear pierced her belly and the child within kicked her ribs, hard. "I know," she whispered to the babe. John's refusal emphasized his origins in a different culture. He did not truly believe her capable of defending herself or her child, though Athosian women normally fought until the moment of birth and then picked up the bantos immediately after, babe slung snugly on their backs. Earth women were soft. They got "maternity leave" to lounge and be coddled. She was not soft. John often missed that.

John professed to be family for her baby, to care so much about him, about her people. Yet he would not help her in her most desperate hour when she knew she could find her people and save them. Lies. Were all his words lies? A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She hoped that was untrue.

"Teyla," he called and his bootsteps rang out on the cold tiles behind her. Relief made her dizzy but she did not slow. Anger propelled her forward. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop, pulled her close enough to him that her belly brushed his stomach and sent other emotions trilling through her veins. "Wait," he said softly.

She glared up at him, wanting to kiss him and smack him simultaneously. Why did her emotions run amok? She should have more control, be calm and focused. "I am going. With or without you," she said, trembling voice showing her lack of control and boosting her anger, this time with herself.

He stared into her eyes as workers flowed past, relaxing his grip on her arm, even caressing her skin with his thumb. She shivered involuntarily. His touch made it difficult to think.

"Married?" he whispered in that way that always made her shiver.

She relaxed with a gentle sigh but was left slightly drained and shaky from the onslaught of conflicting emotions. "Yes."

He shifted from foot to foot and licked his lower lip, dropping his gaze, and releasing her arm.

He was nervous. He did not want to even pretend to marry her. Was she so alien, even after all these years, that he did not even wish to touch her? Disappointment brought the sting of tears to her eyes, but she hid them quickly, banished them. "Do not worry, John. We will not really be betrothed. It is only for one day."

His gaze flicked up to meet hers, something unreadable in those hazel eyes, now more green than brown. After a pause, he cleared his throat and asked, "How long do you need to get ready? Do you need a nap? Food?"

She smiled wryly. "Meet me in the Gate Room in one hour."

^j^

Eight months pregnant and Teyla was still as graceful as ever.

John rocked back on his heels and watched her schmooze the locals. She'd find her people. But his gut told him this guy, with his half-naked body painted in muted colors, didn't know an Athosian from a Genii. Teyla smiled and the tall, thin man nodded. Okay, he could be wrong. Maybe Halling really had snuck in here for a quick trade. But if that was true, why didn't the old man send them word? Atlantis was better armed than any other society out here and could still protect the Athosians.

Unless…the Athosians still thought Atlantis had been destroyed.

Unless…the Athosians didn't want to be found.

The bright afternoon sun reflected off the water, giving her milk-chocolate skin a healthy, rosy glow. A summer in the sun had shot her hair through with blondish highlights--so gorgeous, so smart, so incomprehensible. Just once, he wished, just for a day couldn't the Ancient's gene inside him give him the ability to read her mind? Did she think of him when he wasn't there? Did she dream of him? Hell, he dreamt of her but he wouldn't admit that to anyone but himself. If she found out she'd kick his ass. Or kiss him. What would he do then? His track record was perfect--every relationship failed. Family. Wife. Lovers. Most hated him or at least didn't want to talk to him again.

If Teyla ever hated him he'd have only friends left. Two friends. Ronon and Rodney. Period. End of story. It was better to count her as a close friend than to not have her around at all.

Still, he could look and he could dream. And even eight months pregnant, she was radiant.

"You honor us," Teyla said and bowed to the painted man.

The man turned and strode off toward the flowering bushes on the banks. John stepped closer to her as she turned to face him. She tried to hide her agitation but he knew he well enough to see it in the set of her full lips, the tiny furrow marring her perfect brow.

Uh-oh.

"They aren't going to help? That guy looked so happy." He frowned after the retreating figure.

She shook her head, swept loose strands of hair out of the light sweat on her forehead back behind her ears. "A delay. Another delay." She sighed loudly. "They are sending a skiff to escort us to the elders at some central meeting place."

"A boat?"

"Yes. They are nomadic. This man does not know about the rumored sighting of Halling. He is just a messenger."

He rubbed her shoulder lightly. She looked so tired. She wasn't the type to like platitudes though, so his mind blanked at what to say. "Boats huh? Not a very good way to hide from the Wraith."

She rotated her shoulders as if they ached. "This planet is mostly rivers and seas. The skiffs are fast and sleek, and blend in with the trees. They are a very good way to avoid cullings." She stretched her neck from side to side as if it hurt.

He slipped his hands under her hair and rubbed her shoulders gently and was surprised when she allowed it. The sun danced over the treetops. If this boat didn't hurry, they'd have to spend the night. Gaze scanning the bushes for surprises, he settled in to knead her shoulders and wait for their escort.

^j^

Travel by skiff was faster than she expected and brought a welcome breeze to relieve the heat. Teyla dropped her pack by her feet and doffed her jacket. John's hair ruffled and dried, a curl stuck to his forehead. She almost grinned, but stilled the hand that wanted to reach out and free it. The skiff's flat bottom allowed it to skim the shallow waters smoothly, silently. A motor so quiet propelled it; she could not locate the machinery.

The orange rays of the setting sun dappled through the bushes and intermittent bushes on the banks. The view of the sunset and vast, wide plain of yellow grasses was nearly unbroken save for the low bushes. They had a clear view of the sky and any approaching darts, should the Wraith locate this planet.

Beside her, John chuckled softly, leaning on his forearms on the polished rail, absently spinning the ring that signified marriage in his culture. A similar gold band felt cool on her finger. The rich light of sunset deepened his tan and softened the tiny lines around his eyes that had blossomed since during his time in Atlantis. In the diffuse light, with his black hair ruffling and an unguarded smile on his lips, he looked even younger than normal, almost carefree. She smiled. He was never carefree. Never allowed himself to relax that much, no matter the cavalier attitude he pretended. Something deep inside her reached out and felt that he really was at ease at this moment, watching the small furred animals swim and play alongside the skiff.

He glanced toward her and she turned quickly so he would not catch her watching him. So many women thought him handsome and tried to take advantage of him. She would not have him think her one more. From the corner of her eye, she saw him study her. His expression was gentle, almost yearning. Confusion flitted through her belly and the baby rolled over. She caught her breath and took a deep breath to relax, leaned against the rail for support. John shifted and watched the creatures again, his arm now pressed against hers. His warmth seeped into her and made her sleepy. The Violetten had said the journey would take several hours. She stifled a yawn and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder.

John did not protest. After a long, drowsy moment, she realized his cheek lay against her hair.

She smiled, and decided to enjoy the journey.

^j^

John heard the elder's skiffs long before he saw them. The lively music was surprisingly familiar, like a German band at Octoberfest. They rounded a curve and the river dumped them into a wide, still lake. They sluiced over to an island of barges, alive with dancing torchlight amidst the black water that mirrored the stars and the shining ice ring that surrounded the planet. The ring itself was so bright, the torches were almost uncessary.

A rustle behind them made Teyla lift her head from his shoulder and stretch.

A child, cheeks painted blue and green, smiled up at them, then pointed at the barges, then said something that sounded to John like muffled nonsense to him. The child took his hand and hers and put them together. They interlaced their fingers. Teyla smiled and stroked the child's head, saying something he didn't understand in return.

"What?"

She peered up at him with so much affection that he almost backed up a step. His ex-wife used to look at him like that, at first, like he was a puppy she adored. Later, after he'd been gone too much, she'd saved that look for the dog.

Teyla blinked rapidly as if seeing something on his face, and schooled her features into their normal serene mask. She dropped his hand. He swore that disappointment flashed in her eyes just before the curtain fell. Great. Had he hurt her feelings? "She says the barges hold the elders. They have gathered to meet with us."

"Looks like a party." Damn it. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to throw his arms around her and kiss her, to be a father to her baby, to have someone depend on him and trust him.

The aroma of roasting fish drifted toward them. Four painted men called out a hushed greeting to people on the barges. Ropes sailed through the air, caught and secured.

"Any reunion of friends and family is cause of celebration. They stay apart so as not to attract a culling."

A woman with pink and red stripes on her face and a baby on her hip motioned toward them, chattering to a short old woman on the barge.

"Looks like our cue," John said and helped Teyla into her jacket. The night breeze took on a chill along with the sweet torch smoke.

^j^

She had disappointed him. Had hurt his feelings enough that he was being short with her. The intimacy of the cruise was gone. Sadness welled up inside her but she was determined not to let it show. She had only let her guard down for a moment and when he'd seen how much she enjoyed his company, fear had blossomed in his eyes. He'd almost taken a step away from her, she had repulsed him so. He thought she was just like the other women, those who only wanted pieces of him. Those who did not truly care for him but wanted his gene, his notoriety or his looks alone.

The baby kicked and she ran her hands over her belly. Who could blame him? He deserved a woman who loved him truly and sought affection from him alone. He would not understand why she lay with Kanan, so she did not bother to explain it. She was not completely certain herself.

"Teyla," John said gently. He extended his arm, an invitation for her to take it. She glanced around them and saw that all of the couples had linked arms intimately.

She placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to help her across the rocking floors of the skiffs. They passed between several pairs of torches and down steps, past food and wine and laughing children.

A man spoke softly to them and motioned them toward a tent at the far end of the middle barge. They passed hammocks, and people talking and laughing as they ate. Birds and fish roasted on spits above stone bowls full of fire. Bowls of colorful fruits and vegetables lined short tables on the sides of the decks.

They stopped before the tent flap, and a woman told her the elders and a Memory awaited them. She translated for John.

"They don't waste time, do they?"

She gave him a wry smile. No, they did not. That was a good thing. She did not feel she could wait another minute. When they had clues to Halling's location, they could leave this planet and chase after him.

Inside, pots and lamps, beads and scarves, all swung on hooks. For all the accouterments, the room was silent save for the popping of the flames in the lamps. The Quad of elders, two men and two women, sat on jewel colored pillows and watched them with wizened eyes in sun-wrinkled faces. An aide motioned them to sit and John helped her onto the low pillows.

A very young woman entered, carrying a rolled reed paper.

The elders nodded to the newcomer, who knelt near the wall.

All were in attendance.

Teyla swallowed her nervousness and tried not to fidget with excitement.

^j^

'Elders' was right. These had to be the oldest, most grizzled people in the whole Pegasus Galaxy.

John sat there like a lump, guarding Teyla, watching everyone and listening for sounds of the other shoe falling outside. The first shoe falling was the unexpected fact that what these people said sounded nothing like words to him. This place was almost too quiet, too peaceful. It was downright spooky. None of these people spoke in normal voices, like they were afraid of being heard. Outwardly, their boats and lives were subdued and dull. The inside of this tent exploded with color. It almost gave him a headache.

The elders and Teyla exchanged what had to be pleasantries and then spoke in slow, hushed tones. After a few minutes one of the women motioned to the girl who'd come in and she unrolled a papyrus, showing the scroll to Teyla. John peeked over her shoulder. A colorful painting of a man in a long coat, with a beard and pack filled the page.

It was an older man. His clothing could almost pass for Athosian. But not quite.

And it was definitely not Halling.

Disappointment welled up inside him. Beside him, Teyla slumped. He read the devastation in her slumped shoulders and laid an arm around them. She didn't seem to notice.

He gave the people in the room an appreciative close-mouthed smile. Teyla's expectations had been crushed.

After a long moment, she raised her chin gallantly and thanked them. They all nodded to her and said something else.

She struggled to stand, and he helped her up. "They have invited us to dine and sleep. We will not return to the Stargate until first light."

"Okay."

^j^

Not Halling. Not Athosian. The style of clothing was similar but no, that man was not one of her people. The sour taste of disenchantment in her mouth lingered still, despite the spicy roasted fish and sweet fruits she had consumed. The natives had dispersed to their various skiffs and barges, huddled under the starlight or snoring in large hammocks that each couple shared. The planetary ring had moved from one side of the sky to the other as the hours passed. Soon, she was told, it would vanish below the horizon like a giant jump rope and the night would blacken.

She shivered into the soft blanket they had given her. Were her people shivering in the darkness tonight?

John offered her a drink of water. She shook her head, no, and he hung his canteen over the pole of the hammock behind her. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For?"

"This dead end. You got your hopes up. This false alarm had to hurt."

She regarded him for a long moment. His eyes were soft in the Ring-light. He did care for her, despite how he tried to hide it. He did care for her child, despite not being the father. "Yes."

They sat in silence, gazing at each other. In this light, he seemed to look at her tenderly, with love in his eyes. Was it a trick of the dim light? Or was it a trick of her hopes? He was a good man--smart, very smart, hardworking, honest. He would make a woman an excellent husband.

But he did not want a wife.

He did not seem to want a suitor at all. It occurred to her then that maybe he was afraid.

He dropped his gaze self-consciously. "Um, you tired?"

"Very."

"I can tell. You have circles under your eyes. You should sleep."

"You too."

"Yeah, well, um…" He motioned to the hammock behind her. She regarded it. It was wide and sturdy…and meant for two.

"It is our communal bed?"

"Yes." He was watching her intently. His gaze burned. Was he waiting for her to tell him he must sleep on the deck?

She stood and held out her hand. "Lay the blanket on it then help me in."

He did so without speaking a word. After she lay down, he stood there as if holding his breath, waiting for her. She gave him a little grin, held out hand to him.

Surprise and happiness bloomed on his face.

"I am cold. Warm me. Husband."

With a lopsided grin, he took her hand and gingerly climbed into the hammock. He tucked the blanket around them to block the cool breeze that rocked the hammock. He slipped his arm under her head to pillow it and she rested her cheek on his chest, inhaling the smells of woodsmoke and the Earth liquid called aftershave that he wore. The babe within tossed and kicked until she grunted with pain.

John laid a gentle hand on her belly. Instantly, the babe quieted.

He actually stilled! Teyla smiled.

This felt right.

She had not found her people this night, but she had found acceptance. They lay together, John's arms around her, one hand on her belly, while she dozed off and on and watched the stars above them. She felt happy, content, and playful.

"John," she whispered much later.

"Hmm?" he murmured against her hair.

"Was that a contraction?" she lied.

THE END

FIC: SGA John/Teyla, PG-13 (for Choc_fic)

2008-03-25T21:24:56Z

Title: Whenever, Wherever
Author/Artist: Doxymom
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for S4 up to Outcast
Word count: 1842 words
Summary: Prompt: 2/27 Stargate: Atlantis, Teyla/anyone: Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome. - Isaac Asimov
A/N: Yes, this story may upset some of you for a WHILE but give it a chance and read the whole thing. Okay?

"Non-interference directive? What? She's dying!" Stunned, John gaped at the Curator's compassionless face. He stifled the urge to punch the smug bastard. Instead, he whirled and picked Teyla up in his arms, her sweaty face smudging his tac vest. "It really is friggin' Star Trek!"

No way was he going to just walk away. Leave it like this. Let the man ignore her. He shoved her under the Curator's nose. "Look at her. LOOK, at her!"

The man's pale gaze flicked down to her and up, staring over John's head. "We are not without empathy, Colonel. But we have our reasons. If we start meddling in the affairs of every race we meet, well, that would draw the attention of the predators of our chaotic galaxy, would it not? Ancestors forbid we do something catastrophic like wake a hibernating Hive or stir up the umbrage."

"Umbrage? Tell you what, Captain Picard, you don't want to stir me up and you're doing a damned fine job of it!"

Teyla moaned in his arms, doubling over with pain. "Close, so close."

John stared at her beautiful features, contorted with pain, sheened with sweat, pink with exertion. The position he held her in couldn't feel good to her but if he put her down he'd just have to pick her up again. She was beyond walking.

He glared at the Curator. "You and you're damned civilized world. You have the technology to save her and the baby. But you're cold bastards."

"We are not--"

"Can't you even give us a ride to the 'Gate?"

The man shifted from sandaled foot to sandaled foot, frowning an apology.

"Rot in Hell." John gritted his teeth against epitaphs that would ruin diplomacy between their people, shouldered his gun and shifted her more comfortably. It was a long jog to the 'Gate through the mud and, crap, but it was starting to sleet again. He stepped close to the emaciated man and glared up into his eyes. He pitched his voice low, deadly. "If she dies, I'm coming after you, Curator. Not your people. You."

The man had the decency to blanch.

Screw him. John turned and carried Teyla down the massive ruby steps as fast as he dared. He jogged through the crystal-adorned courtyard, out the shimmering barely iridescent barrier that hid the city from Wraith lifesign and tech detectors and into the slush beyond. He slipped but caught himself. Teyla groaned in his arms, convulsing in another strong contraction.

A glance over his shoulder showed him only snowy rocks and sparse pines. Yep, their shield technology rivaled Atlantis's.

And the smug bastards would let Teyla die in childbirth, trapped on their freezing rocky hell of a planet rather than break a stupid rule.

"Never follow a rule off a cliff," he muttered, slipping and sliding along the path down the mountainside.

"Son of a--"

"John," Teyla's voice, soft and tense, cut into his cursing the uneven terrain.

"We're nearly to the 'Gate."

"We will not make it, find shelter."

"We'll make it! Keller will fix this. I can fix this. We just have to get to the 'Gate and everything will be fine."

She doubled up in another contraction. "Too…late…stop."

"But--"

"Now!"

He stopped instantly and cast about for shelter. Fear and failure throbbed in his gut. The heavy, wet globs of sleet melted the moment they hit skin and dribbled cold water down his forehead into his eyes. He blinked it away. There. A cave.

An eternity later, he cursed the wet wood, the only wood he'd been able to find. The baby would be here before he could start a fire. He glanced at his pack, but nothing in it was invaluable enough to burn.

Teyla, stripped down to her long tunic, thankfully dry, knelt atop her jacket, the clean dry interior ready to catch the baby.

John lightly stroked her back, at a loss for what to do. "I knew we didn't have a lot of time after your water broke, but I didn't know how little. I thought they'd help us. I really did. I mean, what did they have to lose?" He knew he was babbling but he couldn't stop the inane chatter. It was chatter, curse, or cry.

She cried out, fell onto her hands and knees. "Up, up," she panted.

He helped her up with trembling hands. "I can't do this."

She bared her teeth and gave him a sideways look cold enough to freeze steam.

He nodded quickly, frantic, providing his hand for her to grip. Neither of them had ever delivered a baby before. He had to hope she came with autopilot. She strained, crushed his hand. His knuckles popped. Pain lanced up his arm. Sweat broke out on his cold brow.

He used his free hand to dab sweat from her face.

"I have to check," he told her. She nodded, eyes squeezed shut, face contorted, breathing fast and shallow. She didn't release him so he twisted and bent. Blood ran from her body, the baby's dark hair clearly visible. "I see it!" he cried, joy ripping through him. "The baby's head."

He maneuvered to kneel beside her once more. The fingers in the hand she gripped numb.

"Almost there."

Her pained eyes met his.

He smiled at her, brushed the hair back from her face. A ghost of a grin crossed her lips.

Then her face contorted and she screamed, obviously pushing hard.

Suddenly, a hush filled the air. Then the baby wailed, Teyla's shoulders slumped, a rush of relief washed over him. It was over. Was it really over? She wiggled backward, so that she could look down at the child, and the contractions continued until all was delivered.

Finished, she sagged back into his arms. He laid her back ever-so-gently onto the soft dirt, turned to check on the baby. The tiny babe squirmed, wet and messy, shrieked at the cold. John wiped him off awkwardly and bundled him inside his jacket. The soft lining was dry and warm. Holding the baby to his chest, he smiled down at the little face.

"Wow, everything's there," he told Teyla, then leaned down and handed her the infant. "Toes, fingers, little…uh…yeah," he stumbled over the words when she opened her tunic and let the baby nurse, "he's a boy, isn't he?" He tied off and cut the cord, and stared at the sweet picture the two of them made.

"Mm," she murmured. She blinked sleepily, yawned. She was understandably tired.

The baby nursed and made cute mewling sounds. He stared, awed by the new life, and leaned close, warm water soaking the knees of his pants.

Teyla blinked slowly, shook her head. "John," she said.

"It's all over. See? We didn't need Keller after all." He stroked the back of the boy's head.
She didn't answer.

"Teyla?" He glanced up to see she'd fallen asleep. He should leave her. Let her rest. He put one hand on her jacket, still beneath her, to lean in and pick up her son. His hand sunk into warmth, wetness seeping between his fingers. Startled, he wrenched back his hand. Blood ran down his arm.

Teyla's blood.

Too much, too much, too much!

Fear choked him. She was hemorrhaging. She needed…what? A transfusion, stitches, a doctor? He had no idea what to do. Helplessness hit him like a ball bat. Gingerly he moved the baby to lie safely beside her and started his buddy care.

Bleeding. Check. Pulse. Check. Breathing. Barely.

As he rested his cheek against her chest, her breathing and pulse stopped.

"No!" he shouted and rose, straddled her and started CPR. He bent to listen. Nothing. CPR.
Listen. Nothing. CPR…he lost track of how many times he went through the list.

Finally, he knew it had been too long. Teyla was gone. He stopped, breathing hard, finding tears burning his eyes, his shoulders aching from the effort.

He slid off her and allowed himself to sob. She couldn't be gone. He'd never had the guts to tell her how much she meant to him and he didn't buy all that 'she already knew' crap.

Without the words, it meant nothing.

He rocked her in his arms and couldn't remember picking her up. His tears fell on her closed eyelids.

"Wake up! Wake up," he raged. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing her to wake, remembering her smile, feeling an odd tickling in the back of his head. She would wake up. She had to.
Nearby the baby whimpered. He opened his eyes and picked up the child, lay him against his mother's chest.

Closing his eyes, he rocked them, Teyla and her newborn son, now quiet. Too quiet. Weren't newborns supposed to scream all the time? The tickling in the back of John's head increased, grew to almost a whisper. He was going crazy. Losing Teyla had snapped his mind. His mind seemed to swirl, the tickling becoming a pressure, hot, cold, tickling and prickling. He couldn't stop rocking, couldn't open his eyes, couldn't stop wishing with all his might that he had saved her…not failed her.

The baby gurgled, wiggled, the pressure in his head became a bubble that needed to burst. It was almost like the feeling of using the chair, only he didn't control it, it moved and grew alone.

"Come back, Teyla," he growled.

The bubble in his mind burst in a brilliant flash of light, seeming to leave him.

The limp body lying across his lap shivered.

Teyla gasped for air.

The baby giggled.

That wasn’t normal. Was it? He opened his eyes to find Teyla's luminous brown eyes gazing up at him full of warmth and serenity.

"I was in a field on Athos. My mother…" she let the words trail off and gave him a little smile.

His terror must've shown. "Uh. You were…" Naw, she couldn't have been totally dead, not if she could just come back like that. "I felt this weird energy. It was almost as if the baby helped me…uh…I've never had a kid but--."

She kissed her son's head and gave John an enigmatic smile. The baby turned toward him and seemed to stare into his eyes.

Okay, better not to wonder aloud if her kid was normal or gifted. Sure he had Wraith DNA and possibly some Ancient genes in there as well. He'd been able to contact her long before birth, help her stand up against a Wraith Queen. Why couldn't he help John bring his mother back? Or maybe his speculation was all the delirium of a near-miss.

"Well. Glad you're back. Really, really glad you're back."

She stared up into his eyes, licked her lips. He shivered. She was so close. He could just lean down a couple of inches and kiss her. It would be so easy. But would she kick his butt after?

Speculations ran through his head. She reached up and pulled him down for a sweet kiss.

A baby, a kiss, and a silent confirmation of his feelings. Wishes really did come true.

The End

Okay, not my best fic, but I thought it was unusual. Hopefully I don't get a lot of hate mail for the quasi-death. But hey, that was part of the challenge!

Spectrum JT Rarepairings fic PG-13

2008-03-23T00:12:32Z

Sweet scented candles flickered, sending bluish shadows dancing across the room. Plush fabrics and carpets draped the walls, the floor, the bed. Steam twirled a lazy ballet up from the bubbles filling a smooth tub. On the table, a dish of the finest polished silver shone, filled to the brim with lush red berries. Beside it stood a decanter of sparkling liquid, non-alcoholic, she assumed.

It was beautiful.

Perfect.

The type of room from the romantic Earth movies Katie Brown had shown her; the ones John called chick-flicks. She imagined John lounging in the bath, bubbles up to his goofy grin, hair sticking up like dancing chacka birds. He would tell her a funny story that made no sense. Talk of football and hockey and rivalries over frivolous games. She would watch him, sidelong, unable to look away but unwilling to let him know he kept her rapt attention. He was handsome when his eyes lit up and so happy when he spoke of his favorite things.

A rush of cold gripped her belly. "You expect too much of me," she snarled, but did not turn to face the monster.

"And you," Michael purred, "expect too little of me, Teyla." He touched her shoulder lightly.

She whirled on him, furious. "You are trying to seduce me." It wasn't a question. But why? He didn't need her. She wasn't Wraith, did not possess the Ancestor's genetic gifts, and was a liability in that John would never stop looking for her.

"I grew close to you during my humanity. You are a beautiful woman."

Teyla snorted in derision.

"I thought you…" He seemed to think better of what he was going to say. "Life now is about ratios. Converted, you would make a formidable Queen. Perhaps, the most powerful ever. Your unique qualities…" He paced around her. A diversionary technique, certainly. "You are aware that all humans in Pegasus were created in the Lantean's image and with a portion of their DNA?" He stopped and watched her face.

She struggled to hide her bewilderment.

He gave her a small smile that reminded her painfully of the times when he was human and trusted her so completely. "No matter. You and a very few others possess a very fortunate juxtaposition of DNA from both the Lanteans and the Wraith. We are all of a spectrum, the Lanteans on one end, the Iratus on the other, the humans languishing in the middle. You are in a skewed ratio that doesn't allow you access to the Lantean's talents. But with the help of your child, my process will bring that ratio into the most auspicious line and you…" He laid a hand on either of her shoulders, leaning so close to her face that she could smell his breath, disturbingly sweet and pleasant. She expected all monsters to have rancid breath, but to the contrary, Michael seemed to partake of human cleanliness.

On him, it was offensive.

She winced and jerked away. "I already--" She faltered, about to tell him she cared deeply for another already. Would he kill her outright? Cut the babe from her body as yet unready? "I have a mate." She lied. The Kanaan that Michael held here was no longer the carefree boy she was bonded to when she was five. Despite a moment of loneliness and physical weakness which resulted in this child, she and Kanaan never completed the bonding ceremony and thus, were both still considered unmated by Athosian custom. But she would not reveal such intimacies to Michael the way she had to her best friend, Ronon. He alone understood these customs.

Michael's colorless eyes flicked down to her swollen belly, then back up to her face, his gaze almost caressing her. The human face he once wore flashed through her mind, obscuring the monster momentarily. Nausea surged through her. The baby kicked violently. His smile was slow, knowing, terrifying.
She swallowed hard and raised her chin in defiance. He would not see how he horrified her so.

He stared at her for so long her hands began to tremble.

Suddenly, he smiled broadly, stepping back and motioning in a very Earth manner toward the bubble bath.

"The water is not too hot. Eat. Sleep in the softness of a bed. I had thought you would like to clean yourself since you have been here so many days."

There will be so many more, he did not say aloud. But she caught the thought. Unbidden, her gaze strayed to the water. The bubbles popped with soft sighing sounds, the smell of the soap was tangy, not flowery as she would have preferred. Tiredness seeped down to her bones. A bath would be wonderful. She felt dirty and ragged, sweaty, smelly, and disgusting.
She sighed deeply.

And turned her back on it.

"I have no need of softness. Return me to my cell."

"At least eat this. For the sake of the child. You have not eaten in days and it will soon harm the baby." He held out a fruit she did not recognize, split open to reveal jewel-toned orbs inside.

She was so very hungry. It had been four…no, six, Atlantean days since she had eaten and her resolve was feather thin. She did not wish her son to starve to death but soon she would no longer have the energy to carry him.
Against her better judgment, she took some of the orbs and ate them. Biting sweetness exploded in her mouth and stung as it dripped down her throat.

Almost of its own accord, her hand reached for more and she ate. Only a few.
He chuckled and ran a hand gently down her back. She shivered in revulsion. His voice was soft, sonorous as he told her, "That strength would let you rule the galaxy."

She wrenched back from him, sensing a trap, angry at her weakness in taking food from the monster. "We will defeat you."

"We?" He seemed to turn the word over in his mind. Then his face darkened and all humor faded from his eyes. He grabbed her. "He won't find you. I've tricked him. Set traps."

He stepped so close to her that his body heat burned through her clothing, his fingers sharp in her arm, his breathing harsh with anger.

She fought not to vomit.

"John Sheppard will die," he whispered in her ear. "And I…I will have you." He caressed her cheek with one coarse palm, holding her hard against him. "Or you will die."

Something bubbled up inside her. Some disobedient part that she could not still. She laughed. Hollow. Crisp. Brief.

But long enough.

Anger flared into rage in his eyes. His nails broke her skin. He bared teeth too sharp to be human. Death stormed in his eyes. She stared at him. She would meet her death head-on.

Then he took a deep breath and a measure of calm slunk over his features, followed by a horrid facsimile of sadness or regret. "I wanted you to care for me…perhaps love me one day."

"Love!" she cried out and almost laughed at the absurdity. "You are Wraith! You do not love. You do not feel." Her voice grew louder with each word.

He shook her once. "You made me feel. You!" Inexplicably, he began to laugh.
It terrified her more than any words.

He reached down and picked up the fruit that had fallen to the floor, cradling it in his hand and holding it out to her. "You are mine, Teyla. Mine. Wherever you go, whomever you are with, you are still mine."

Still chuckling, he turned and swaggered from the room, head high, a bounce in his step.

Confusion swirled inside her. She ran after him, awkward in her pregnant bulk, muscles protesting the movement after four days of starvation and inactivity. "What poison is this, Michael? Everything you give me goes to this child you want so desperately! You cannot kill me without harming him!"

The mesh bars closed over the door opening. He whirled gracefully, his long jacket spinning out like a dancer's garb. He grinned in a mockery of benevolence. She slammed against the bars, gripping them as if she were throttling him.

"What have you done?"

He reached through the bars and stroked her hair tenderly.

Instead of answering, he pulled her head forward and kissed her forehead before she could react.

He turned and swaggered into the shadowed corridor.

"Michael!" she shouted. Fear ripped at her insides like claws shredding her composure and certainty.

John had not come for her yet. Was he even looking? Were they too far away? Her mind whirled dizzily--an aftereffect of the fruit or of hunger? She could not hold on much longer.

Turning, she stumbled away from the door and leaned back against the smooth warmth of the bathtub, sank to the cold floor. Tears burned her eyes but she bit them back furiously. She would not show weakness. She would not lose hope. John always came for her. Always.

She had tried every way she knew to escape, to save the baby and herself. But these hybrids were all controlled by Michael and every attempt to control them was like tapping the monster on the shoulder. Michael laughed, and simply turned them away. Even Kanaan. Even Kanaan could do no more than let slip that they were enroute to a planet with the equipment to handle the birth of her baby, the modification of his particularly delicate tissues.
On this planet, she would fight and win, or lose her baby to the darkness and die.

But John would be there. He had to be. She thought back on all the little hints he had dropped that he cared for her, hints she had ignored. The way he always used to sit beside her on missions so that their thighs brushed against each other, the kiss he gave her when he attacked everyone else, the joy on his face when the baby kicked his palm.

Yes, he would find her. Together, they would overcome this latest horror and then, then she would decide how to acknowledge the hints John gave her.

Finis.

Hello!

2008-03-12T19:41:26Z

Just checking in quickly on this blustery, yet oh-so-warm at 59 degrees day. (Hey, it's much better than the minus 15 of a week or so ago.)

I just finished reading Linnea Sinclair's Finder's Keepers. A major feat since I've been trying to find time to finish it for about 8-9 months! And that's not the fault of the book. I loved it! Life has just been to chaotic. This is not a bad SFR. Mild SF, mild but building Romance. She had a good blend. I highly recommend it even if the beginning did start slowly for me. I stuck with it and it just kept getting better until the end just was too good! Loved it. It left me wishing there was a sequal. I don't think there is. But I have other novels of hers to read later.

The next book I need to finish is Unmasked by CJ Barry, another SFR. It started off wonderfully and is moving along nicely. I'd love to write like her, or like Catherine Asaro.

Anyway, I'm also, sort of, reading an SGA novel, a book by Sylvia Browne, and several e-novels as yet unpublished by around eight crit partners. Whew. Usually, I only finish the unpubbed stories. LOL.

Well, must dash. Oh, I DID do some more writing. Finished draft 1 of a mildly JT fic for the Rarepairings LJ. The prompt led to a fic that almost suggests a different pairing, but I'm going to revise to add a little more John into it. No, it's not a threesome. More a Love Triangle.

Have a great day, everyone!
Doxy

Beginnings...again

2008-03-02T01:19:16Z

Hi!

Okay, I'm crazy. I signed up to do the 70 days of sweat challenge again, even though my muse is iffy. The challenge? Write 60-100,000 words in 70 days. No editing, no researching, no revisions. Just write.

I have many half Wips. I plan to finish the first draft of one of them, but may switch fics if another calls to me louder. Right now they're all quiet. LOL. This fic is 13200, approx. I plan to finish the first draft is 60K or less, and later revise up to around 80.

Wish me luck. Feel free to give me a virtual kick in the tush once in a while.

I'm trying to figure out how to "write on a full life" lol.

Thanks!
Anna

Grrr

2008-02-28T18:26:41Z

Okay, LJ is bugging me right now. I've tried a good ten times to upload a fic and the LJ-cuts aren't working. I even verified via the FAQ that I did it right.

So, I'll be trying to upload stories tomorrow. What a pain in the tush.

Doxymom

Fun Science Fiction Question!

2008-01-28T20:08:09Z

Hi!

So, in order, name your favorite SF heroes. Doesn't matter how many.

Mine are: (**Edited to add in the women**)

1. Han Solo
2. Rommie
3. John Crichton
4. John Sheppard
5. Dr. Who #9
6. Captain Jack Harkness
7. Gary Hobson (yes, I do count this one as SF/Fantasy)
8. Darian Lambert
9. Duncan Idaho (most current remake)
10. John Sheridan
11. Dr. Who #10

Have a great day!
Doxy

Life Interferes

2008-01-26T16:25:09Z

I abhor the rotovirus!

I was doing so well with all my goals until, one by one, the kids and I fell victim to it's ravages. Grr. For the next 24 hours I shall cry, "EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" like any self-respecting Dalek. And bleach the h-e-double hockey sticks out of my house.

LOL. At least I lost a couple of pounds during the initial assualt. I expect to lose a couple more during the counterattack. ;-D

So, I didn't write, barely read email, heck I could barely stand up for a few days without feeling the world spinning. But I have started another of my yearly goals--the Evaluation.

Here, if the meters work, are the standings of some of the original fic Wips I have. I still have to file 13 a few, and I seem to have misplaced a few file folders in the computer switchover. Or maybe one of Vista's cockroaches ran off with those chapters. Grr. >Squash, squash!<<

princess on the Lam

12872 / 90000 words. 14% done!

Smarthouse

2689 / 30000 words. 9% done!

Bliss

25531 / 100000 words. 26% done!

Shelter book 1 of 5

5201 / 100000 words. 5% done!

2

245 / 90000 words. 0% done!

3

3521 / 90000 words. 4% done!

4

890 / 90000 words. 1% done!

5

801 / 90000 words. 1% done!

6

278 / 90000 words. 0% done!

RainE.

2776 / 10000 words. 28% done!

PM

88841 / 88000 words. 101% done!

Revisions of PM

2000 / 88000 words. 2% done!

**Edited to add that I found the files I thought were missing! Yay! All are just a scene or two to give the novel characters and flavor. ;-)