Sweet Nothing
This fic is for the splendiferous ToasteronFire… so it's her fault, blame her. I'm usually a S/W shipper but this wee spawn of evil fic wanted to be written and I couldn't resist.
Don't own these characters. Not at all.
Elizabeth Weir was pissed.
And John Sheppard knew it.
So was Teyla actually. Last time he'd seen both they'd been twirling around the floor with each other, holding champagne flutes aloft, their faces flushed with exertion and happiness. The rest of the Atlantis contingent had surrounded them, clapping, egging them on.
He couldn't bear to watch them. So he'd retreated to the balcony and stood, hands in pockets, watching the sunset over the ocean. No matter which way he thought about it, he was still left with a burning feeling…
The breeze coming off the ocean ruffled his hair, raising goosebumps on his arms.
He'd been the best man for the job, that was for certain.
He leant against the rail and sighed.
Had it been worth the cost?
He couldn't say no, because there wasn't anyone else who was better for the job.
Atlantis' sun was turning the sea liquid gold and the sky was shot with streaks of purple and peach.
He looked down. Below him the wall fell away and a large part of Atlantis spread itself at its feet. In the courtyard below, he saw two figures emerge into the lavender twilight. It was Elizabeth and her new husband. He smiled, despite herself as Elizabeth curtsied to her husband's bow, and then they twirled round in a waltz. Sheppard was surprised, he would have never suspected that Rodney McKay could dance like the best of them.
He'd never forget the day that Rodney told him they were getting married. It had come to a huge shock to him, he'd hadn't even known they were seeing each other. He'd got so used to Elizabeth waiting for him as he came through the 'gate, the casual flirting sessions, the times he told her about his conquests, that he hadn't noticed the day when she'd stopped responding.
He pulled himself forward again and sighed, tipping his head to look skyward. The sky was dark, the stars starting to form themselves into their unfamiliar constellations. He ran his right hand through his hair and thrust his hands into his pockets.
A shriek underneath the balcony told him that Teyla was also on the terrace. He looked down, in the shadows, he could see the diminutive Athosian woman being hoisted up under her arms, her long dress shimmering in the moonlight as Ronon twirled her round and round. Teyla threw back her head and laughed, her hair flying and catching around her head, arms outstretched, right hand still clutching her champagne flute. Sheppard could see how joyful the two were, how relaxed, how totally right.
He grimaced, this was an itch that just wouldn't go away. The news of Ronon and Teyla's engagement had followed hard on the heels of Elizabeth and Rodney's. So soon in fact, that the two women had decided on a joint ceremony, with Carson (who for some reason had the necessary qualifications) as celebrant. Sheppard remembered Teyla when he had first met her, that air of vulnerability she had despite the fact she could kick his ass. The joy he had taken in teaching Earth customs. The way she would look puzzled, one of her eyebrows quirking on her beautiful face. He had never seen her look so beautiful as she did tonight though, twirling in the silver moonlight.
Where had that left Sheppard?
He'd had to give away both woman, He'd walked down the aisle with both on her arms, sickening aware that both only had eyes for their husbands-to-be standing beaming at them from the makeshift altar. He had handed them over, and stood back, watching both as they moved into their new lives, watched both grooms kiss the brides.
He'd stayed at the party as long as it was polite and then he'd retreated to the balcony, and watched the sun sink into the sea and let in the night. Feeling the warmth disappear leaving him cold.
And he was left alone, itching and burning in the night.