Idle Gossip
Category: Angst/Character Death
Pairing: Sparky
Summary: Lorne can probably pinpoint exactly when his commanding officer and the leader of Atlantis started sleeping together.
Warnings: character death, set after Lifeline.
Disclaimer: own nadda!
Author's Notes: I wanted this to be happy, really I did, I'm sorry! I will make up for it with something else :)
The rumours flying around don't surprise him.
In hindsight Evan thinks he can probably pinpoint exactly when his commanding officer and the leader of Atlantis started sleeping together. There were signs. Some he'd deliberate on when his exhausted mind refused to shut off and others that were, well, more obvious...
'Tactical meeting.'
Sheppard's voice rings in his head, the convenient excuse for leaving Weir's quarters in the early hours of the morning not entirely implausible. In the Colonel's defence definitive proof is a hard thing to come by and besides, it's the more subtle signs he uses to trace backwards.
Like the whispered conversation he caught during a skeleton shift late one night.
'Dave, my brother, we don't really get on.'
'Maybe we could visit next time we're on Earth, if that's something you'd be comfortable with?'
'Yeah.. maybe.'
Nothing seemingly out of the ordinary except he'd never heard the Colonel talk about his family to anyone and the way silence fell easily between them afterwards suggested it wasn't the first time they'd shared intimate details about their lives on Earth.
If he has to guess now, he's fairly certain they were already sleeping together by that point and drags his memory further back to the storm and the Genni strike force that invaded Atlantis. In the weeks following he'd noticed Sheppard trailing behind her more than usual, a light touch guiding her forward, a quick squeeze of her shoulder here and there. The gestures introduced themselves slowly and nobody battered an eyelid.
He doesn't think they were together then but it was probably the start of something.
In fact, when he lands on the moment in his memory, it's surrounded by an unusual calmness away from near escapes and suicide missions. The only thing more out of place in that quiet week, to him at least, was the subtle shift of Sheppard's hand. At some point it had strayed from its usual position against the small of Elizabeth's back to sit more intimately at her waist where it had proceeded to land every time after that. The people closest to them seemed to overlook it as nothing and everyone else missed the fleeting touches but he was caught somewhere in the middle and when things went back to chaotic normalcy a sudden drill to protocol had him convinced.
'I'm sure Colonel Sheppard's team are fine Major, they're only two hours over due.'
At the time it seemed strange hearing the nonchalance pull from her lips, that she seemed less worried, but after another painfully slow forty-five minutes went by he was the one to finally suggest sending a team through and her relief had been evident. It was standard procedure to wait three hours but after that he made sure -wherever possible- to toe the political line for them because honestly he didn't, and still doesn't, give a damn about the IOA. Elizabeth always seemed extremely grateful for his recommendations to go in sooner, though she tried to hide it, and the Colonel had never complained about getting his ass hauled out of trouble on a technicality. It worked and however far the relationship between his superiors reached, it went on behind closed doors and was never an issue.
That's why the rumours flying around don't bother him.
Why he's standing in front of Colonel Carter, days after Doctor Weir's death, doing the honourable thing. Why, when the blonde women asks, he answers without a trace of hesitation that there was absolutely nothing romantic going on between his two commanding officers. Because even though he could detail all the moments that may prove otherwise, it's not his secret to tell.
It's one for him to keep.