Title: The Journal
Chapter Title: An Invasion of Privacy
Author: Thayne MacHern
Summary: Teyla finds a journal about her, written by one of her teammates, but she doesn't know who. (Set somewhere between seasons four and five.)
Rating: PG. At least, right now.

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"What do you think?" Teyla asked Tegan, who only gurgled in response before closing his still-blue eyes and nuzzling a little closer to his mother. She rocked him in her arms, humming softly, a large smile on her face, all while studying the book that lay in front of her on the bed. She'd found it an hour or so after John, Rodney, and Ronon had gated to Earth to help Jeannie with a physics issue--something that really only required Rodney's assistance, but Ronon was itching to return to the intriguing planet and John was the only one Sam trusted to keep him in check. They'd invited Teyla to join them, but she'd politely declined, not wanting to test Tegan's reaction to wormhole travel until he was at least able to hold his own head up. She'd walked them to the gateroom and said her goodbyes before walking her newborn son around the city for a while and then starting for her room--that's when she'd found it. In a shadowed corner near the transporter that led to members' quarters was a thin, brown, leather-bound book with the word JOURNAL stitched onto the front cover in golden thread. Looking around and finding no one, she'd picked it up and carried it to her room; she'd been staring at it since then, debating whether or not to open it.

"If I do not," she reasoned to her son, but with herself, "I may never find out to whom it belongs. However," she sighed and looked down at the peaceful child, "It is an invasion of privacy." Tegan chose then to make another gurgling noise, flailing his arms around, a high-pitched wail escaping him to echo around the room. Forgetting the book for the time, Teyla stood and held her baby to her shoulder, one arm supporting him as the other rubbed his back soothingly, and she shushed and hummed and pressed featherlight kisses against his temples until he settled into a serene slumber. The Athosian woman carefully lowered him into his bassinet--a gift from John and Ronon--before settling back on her bed, eyes never leaving the child's sleeping form. It had been hard, losing Kanaan. Harder still, seeing so many of his characteristics in the child that they made. Hardest of all, knowing that she had never truly been in love with the man that fathered her son--she had loved him, and perhaps could have fallen in love with him, but now she would never have that chance. Would she ever tell Tegan such a thing? No, she decided, but she would not lie to him either. She would tell him, truthfully, that she loved Kanaan dearly, and was heartbroken when he'd been lost to her. She would tell him that Kanaan would have been a wonderful father, and she had so looked forward to being a parent with him. A heavy pressure behind her eyelids told Teyla that she was about to lose herself to her sadness again, and she took in a deep breath, desperate to keep that from happening; she had to stay strong.

She needed a distraction, so she reached out and picked up the journal, hesitating briefly before she flipped the front cover open and turned until she found the first bit of barely-legible text.

Entry #1
Its getting a little harder to keep myself from going crazy. I thought that it would go away after a while. I thought that, if I told myself enough times that it wasn't going to happen, I'd finally be able to convince myself to stop. To stop staring. To stop wanting. To stop shivering each time she came too close to me. But, so far, it hasn't worked. I can't stop thinking about her. Every single night, I go to my quarters alone and the only thing I can ever think of is: I want her here with me. And its not even about sex. Sex is not what I want from her. I mean, its not at the bottom of the list, but its not at the top, either--simply because I know she has so many great things to offer. So when I'm lying there in a small bed that seems like it was made just to make people feel lonely and miserable, I want her there to make it seem not so. I want her to be lying next to me, smiling at me when I'm happy and comforting me when things go wrong and telling me its all going to be all right when I make a mistake. Because that's just who she is--she makes things more bearable, and she doesn't even know it. Does she know it? She's always there for everyone, but does she understand that she actually makes an impact on people's lives? I know I haven't been the same since I met her, all those years ago.
So I hope that, by keeping this journal, I'll be able to keep myself a little more under control. What good am I if I'm constantly shaking around her, yearning for her? We're on the same team, and we put ours lives in each others' hands too often for me to let such strong, personal feelings cloud my vision. That's how mistakes get made. Maybe if I can write it down--every time I'm feeling these things--I'll be able to lock it away; I'll be able to hide it. She can't know. She can never know. I've been rejected by women before, but I couldn't handle it from her; not from Teyla.

The woman came to the last word of the last sentence and froze, her finger in place as she'd been marking her reading path, and she felt her jaw drop. Teyla. There was only one Teyla she knew on Atlantis and that was her. Teyla Emmagan. So that meant--what did that mean? Someone on Atlantis had...feelings for her? No, she quickly reread, someone on my team has feelings for me. She felt her face heat as a blush crept up from her neck--how could she return the journal now, knowing what was inside? And she still didn't even know who it belonged to. It could be John's or Ronon's or Rodney's. It could even be a joke; a prank they'd set out to play on her, planting the journal for her to find after they were gone. But she couldn't see them doing that. Well, maybe to each other, but not to her; they didn't do things like this to her. So that only left one explanation:

One of the men wanted her.