Title: Finding Home

Pairing: Teyla/Elizabeth Weir

Disclaimer: Mmm... not mine.

A/N: My muse was in the gutter... what can I say? Feed my muse with reviews, comments, e-mails, flames, marriage proposals, death threats, and critiques.

The sun poured through the geometric windows of varying shades of earth: husky orange, rich browns, and comforting beiges. The light streamed oddly through the windows of the sparring room, casting wavering and unusual shadows. The Ancients had a unique appreciation for beauty that relied less on embellishment and decoration and more on natural splendor, such as sunlight. It was the only detail Teyla was aware of outside of herself.

At the moment, her mind was preoccupied with the sensation of inquisitive hands exploring the bare skin of her abdomen, her hips. She felt slender, deft fingers unlacing the front of her bodice and the material was gently pushed from her body. Even if her eyes had not been squeezed shut, she would not have been able to see her lover who stood behind her.

Coming to the sparring room was a ruse they had used many times before. They could lock the doors, and when they emerged sweaty, their hair mussed, they could easily claim that they had been engaged in a rigorous sparring session. It was borne of the suspicion that frequent visits to one another's personal quarters had bred. Rumors had been whispered, and they were forced to become more creative with their liaisons.

A mouth found her neck, eliciting a whimper from Teyla as hands simultaneously raised to cup her breasts. Hot pleasure emanated from between her legs to the rest of her body. Blood rushed from her head to the core of her need, leaving her dizzy. Unable to fully support her own weight, she slumped against the body behind her, trusting the other woman to hold her.

An arm circled around her waist, holding her while the other hand pinched and teased each nipple erect. Teyla was painfully aware of the gentle swell of breasts pressing against her back, of the warmth of breath against her neck. Her body ached for release, but Teyla said nothing. She merely licked her lips, wanting to prolong the magnificent torture a little longer.

Teeth nipped at the toned muscle that ran from her neck to her shoulder, causing her to moan involuntarily. She had never felt so flushed with need, so wet with desire in her life than when she was with her lover. The older woman caused her body to respond in ways that she never knew were possible. As if to demonstrate the point, her lover slipped a hand past the waistband of her breeches, causing Teyla's hips to buck.

Fingers found the soft curls between her legs, but went no further. Teyla rolled her hips to no avail, trying to create the pressure that would alleviate her need. Blood screamed fire hot behind her eyes and every sensory nerve in her body crackled and sobbed for relief. "Please," The Athosian woman breathed. "Please…" She pleaded when the fingers merely curved just slightly in response. "Please, take me." She finally managed, feeling no shame in the feral yearning in the words.

She felt, rather than saw, the woman smile behind her and the fingers finally slipped into the slickness of her center. The mouth and lips and tongue and teeth continued their relentless ministrations on every piece of Teyla's exposed flesh that they could reach while a thumb gingerly brushed the nub that was the core of her craving. Teyla bit down on her lower lip, hard, to keep from crying out as her body jerked as if shocked in response to the slight touch.

Finally, those skilled fingers plunged into Teyla and she was unable to stave off the cry of delicious reprieve. They moved slowly at first, letting the rhythm of Teyla's hips set the pace. Teyla ground herself down onto her lover's hand without embarrassment, needed to feel more, to feel more of the fingers inside her, harder.

Head thrown back onto her lover's shoulder, Teyla trembled and cried out. Her body shuddered as she rode the climax to its peak, still thrusting against her lover's hand. The world seemed to fall away and there was nothing but her, the comfortable pressure of her lover behind her, and the frenzied thrusts of the fingers in and out of her. With the last torrid spasms of the orgasm, Teyla all but collapsed on her lover who easily caught and lowered her to the floor.

Fingers were slowly withdrawn, leaving Teyla feeling hollow and very alone. Until arms encircled her, pulling her close. Cool lips brushed against her sweaty brow, drawing her into the comfort the embrace wrought.

A small, tired smile playing upon her lips, she raised her eyes to meet her lovers. The kiss they shared was long and unhurriedly passionate. They kissed with the slow enjoyment of two people accustomed to being separated, at having to hide their relationship.

With a contented sigh, Teyla nuzzled her face into the other woman's neck, without even noticing that they were snuggled in the middle of the floor. "I love you, Elizabeth." She whispered, and was rewarded by another kiss to her brow.

"I love you, too, Teyla."