Sometimes, when they're working in his lab, Rodney looks over at Teyla and he's seized by the desire to taste her. It could be the way a hint of her tongue peeks out between her lips when she's working out a complex problem on her tablet, the errant lock of hair that escapes her ponytail and brushes one caramel cheek. Perhaps it's these things or others, or maybe nothing at all.

In any case, Teyla must sense something because when she looks up to have him check her work, the most she has time to say is "Rodney, could you..." before he's slid forward on his stool and then his mouth is on hers. Teyla's small yelp of surprise swiftly transforms to a short laugh and segues into a moan as her tablet is hurriedly put on the table (the work preserved because Rodney has drilled the habit of using the Auto Save feature into her head) and she's in his arms, pressing and hungry, responding with a swiftness that still astounds him.

Rodney responds in kind, his mouth testing theories on her lips, his tongue inscribing equations upon her neck.

****

Ronon is reminded of the swift brown birds that used to roost outside of his and Melena's home when he watches Teyla train the women of Atlantis. Even though the majority of her current students are new, a few of them have been with her since the beginning of the expedition and today they put on an exhibition.

The audience is made up of IOA representatives as well as members of the SGC. Ronon knows that what most of them will see is the swirl of skirt, the hint of leg through a nearly sheer panel before the clash of sticks (short and long), blades, and unarmed forms are displayed. A quick look around the room and he knows who is leaning forward, cataloging exactly what this alien woman has gifted these previously unassuming scientists. He wants to laugh but settles for a smirk.

After the audience has left Ronon saunters over one stick twirling lazily in his hand. "They looked good," he says. Teyla crooks an eyebrow and her lips twitch in that way that makes Ronon's heart quicken.

"They are better than good," Teyla replies, her tone that of a satisfied teacher. "They can be and will be more." She eyes the weapon in his hand. "Did you want something?"

He grins, strikes and is met by her own stick. They trade blows until they tumble to the mats, laughing and out of breath. It is then that Ronon presses his lips to hers, gentle, teasing. Blood running hot in both their veins and yet this kiss soothes the fire, banking it against another day.

****

The first time John kissed Teyla still haunts his dreams. He could, and did, say the Iratus infection stole his will and that what happened between them was purely an aberration. When John kisses Teyla now, he's careful. Oh so careful and respectful.

Not that he's lacking in passion. No one could ever say that John Sheppard was lacking in that department. But there is a thread of darkness when they kiss. John can feel it. The thing that's coiled in his belly that's never really gone away since the infection was purged from his body. It's like something was switched on and no matter how John tries to shut it off, it stays on like a light in a closet.

One day he takes her across the bay into Berkeley and the wilds of Tilden Park. She's never really been a runner but Teyla knows her woodcraft and John knows she's missed the wild spaces on Lantea, New Athos and later, New Lantea; no one ever got around to naming their last home so this name is as good as any. It's late summer and their bellies are full from lunch and wine. John leans over, drunk on so much love for her and gifts Teyla with a kiss. Her hands slide up to card through his hair and he could get lost here, kissing this woman who has come to mean so much.

The sharp bite on his lip brings him back to reality. "What the...Jesus, you bit me!"

A tiny bead of blood is on her lip and a little more stains her teeth and Teyla bares them in a wide grin. Her tongue flicks out to taste it even as she rocks to her feet to stand above him. John blinks but the thing inside him recognizes the challenge even as Teyla bolts away. He's on his feet and running after her, following the tip of her ponytail as it whips around a tree, leading him deeper into the woods.

When John finally catches her the scenario has played itself out in his head over and over again. Except this time, he's pinned her to a moss covered boulder, one knee thrust between her legs.

"John."

Teyla's voice, his Queen's voice, calls to the wild thing in his gut. It breaks free with laughable ease. He growls and licks into her mouth even as her hands claw at his shoulders, pulling him into her. Welcoming him home.

****

While the rest of Atlantis sleeps, three sets of hands pull Teyla into a wide soft bed and settle her among them. Three mouths bestow benedictions upon her lips and skin. Teyla returns the favor, kissing her men, her hearts, before she sleeps. Blessings upon blessings upon blessings.