Fic: AU The Bad and The Beautiful

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Some mild language

Characters: John/Teyla

Word Count: 10,818+

Comments: Fic is complete. A total of 14 Chapters.

Prompt: Detective John Sheppard Meets Teyla

Summary: John Sheppard smiled, knowing that from that moment on, his life would never be the same.

Prologue

Detective John Sheppard woke up in a bed he did not recognize with a woman whose name he could not recall. But that wasn't the best part; the woman held a gun in his mouth.

Surprisingly, she was partially naked, sitting astride his chest, her black lace bra barely holding back her pendulous breasts glistening with sweat in the hot foggy lighted room. To his disappointment, these things were not helping his current situation, nor did it help him to think straight. For she was, for a lack of a better word, drop-dead-gorgeous!

Yes, a gorgeous woman, whose name he couldn't recall, and who had somehow managed to handcuffed his wrists to the painted iron bedposts he was now banging against the plaster wall in a valiant effort to free himself.

Vaguely, he tried to remember how the hell he'd gotten himself into this situation. Well, part of it he could figure it out.

He's almost certain that she made the first move because John Sheppard is many things, but hitting on women and succeeding is not one of his best qualities.

In fact, most times, when he got lucky, it was because a woman picked him up when he least expected it because the ones he pursued wooing always turned him down.

Like Betsy, the next door girl. She wouldn't even go out with him even after he had saved her life! It wasn't so much as a life and death situation, but if he hadn't stormed into her apartment after seeing all that smoke coming out of her front door, who knows what would have happened to her, to him and to the apartment complex! Mind you, it was his little incident that had cause the fire in the first place. Yes, she hung to that one as another excuse to turn him down; unlike his ex-wife, Nancy.

She had been different. Nancy came on to him. In fact, he's not even sure that he ever actually proposed to her. It just happened. She made it all happened. Yet, in all fairness, he really thought she was the one that would finally straighten him out. Wait. NO. Those were his dad's words. His dad thought she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Until he came back from that horrible Afghanistan fiasco and she told him she had found someone else. Who the hell cared that he was never there! They had been married, for Pete's sake!

That's why, John Sheppard never got attached. It wasn't worth it. In the end, you'd get your ass whipped and your heart shattered into pieces. Sure, he could blame Nancy for their broken marriage, but in reality, it was his fault. He simply hadn't been invested. She wanted the fairy tale house - he took her to live in his apartment. She dreamed of traveling the world with him - he went and fought a war in Afghanistan and left her at home. While she yearn motherhood - he stood helpless in a bloody war, holding too many children's corpses in his arms. All she wanted was to spend time with him, but he wanted to keep her safe and away from him.

He simply wasn't there for her. He was never there. He was not the marrying type, end of story.

Then of course, there's Larrin. She is exotic, fun, dangerous and all sorts of trouble.

She's a piece of work. Beats the shit out of you, then screw you like there's no tomorrow, all within a matter of minutes, too.

Which is why he distanced himself from the smart ones, the goddesses that walked around knowing it all, wanting it all and claiming it all. Yeah, those that can whip your ass with a glance, that can numb your feet with a wink and that can send the little guy into a whipping mush.

And this unknown beauty sitting astride his chest, looking down on him now, was most certainly one of those.

So, why the hell was he strapped up to a bedpost, half-naked, with a growing hard-on, and her gorgeous body straddling over him with a gun in his mouth?

Yeah, you sure did it this time, John.

Whipping his head from side to side and banging his wrists against the bed-frame wasn't helping, so after awhile, he stopped. First, because it hurt. Second, because it wasn't doing a damn thing to either get her to take that gun of his mouth nor loosening his wrists. Third, because it felt so good when he finally stopped.

He tried to smile at his own pain free moment, but soon realized that he couldn't even do that with the muzzle of an oily .357 scraping the roof of his mouth.

Think, John, think, he told himself. Be professional. This isn't the end of the world, nor is this the worse scenario you've found yourself in. It's simply another one of life's lessons. Today's lesson: don't screw around in a bar full of cheap low-life and don't enter the one that has a poster of your face right smack in the middle of the dart board. Stay sober and above all, avoid women, especially the ones that look just like this one on top of you, now!

He kept repeating this to himself over and over again now, but it wasn't doing him any good. After all, detective Sheppard has been through just about everything bad that life can bring, and he's still here to tell the story.

John Sheppard was more than a survivor. He lived for the moment. Lived with a reckless agenda that required no one to worry for him if anything ever bad ever did happen to him.

Not that he walked around with a death wish, no. John Sheppard wanted to live, but he lived to fight for others. Never quite for himself.

John took a few deep breaths like he's been trained to do when captured. He tried to stabilized his beating heart, which he was quite sure was a combination of the half naked woman on top of him, plus the fact that she had a gun in his mouth.

Damn, that wasn't working, either. Get your head in gear, and lay it all in front of you. Shit! That's not right either. She's sitting on top of you right now. Damn, what a woman!

Right now, his emotions were unclear about this woman. And yet...

He would kill to know her name but he felt that at this point introductions would be awkward. Even if she removed the gun from his mouth, what was he going to say?

Hi, my name is John Sheppard. I like Ferris wheels, college football and anything that goes more than two hundred miles per hour.

Focus, John. Okay.

He closed his eyes and it was all slowly started to take shape.

TBC