Originally posted by Falcon Horus
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Okay, that would be weird in 17th century London... unless you're the Doctor. 
Anyhoodle. Short little present:
Spoiler:
When Elizabeth came downstairs the next morning, Mary was amazingly already awake and dressed, sitting at the kitchen table as she nibbled at a piece of toast.
Mary turned to regard her sister. “Good morning, Elizabeth! How was your night?”
“As well as it can be, taking care of a sick nephew,” Elizabeth replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
It seemed to succeed, for Mary made a noncommittal “hmm” sound and continued chit-chatting. Elizabeth would’ve paid attention, but she wasn’t really concerned with what John Sheppard looked like, or how he treated the family, or what jokes Isa and Harri tried to tell.
Frankly, she didn’t want to care. It hurt too much.
So when Charlie stuck his head in from the back at the same time that someone knocked at the front door, Elizabeth politely dismissed herself to answer it.
She didn’t hear Charlie saying that he and John Sheppard had struck up a conversation the night before at dinner and that he was coming to meet him for a golf game.
When Elizabeth opened the front door, she frowned in confusion for less than a second before she realized that she knew the face behind the aviator sunglasses. The uncontrollable dark hair, the hazel eyes that she knew were there, the hint of five o'clock shadow even though it was ten in the morning, the lips that curved in a friendly smile until the realization of who he was looking at finally popped. After eight years, she still knew that face.
And he knew her too.
John Sheppard slowly took off the glasses, staring back at her in a look consisting of shock and confusion. “Elizabeth,” he enunciated slowly, almost in disbelief.
She knew the shock was visible on her face, and she strained until she finally found her voice. “John.”
After eight years, that's how she greeted him? Her mind berated her, but under the circumstances, nothing else was acceptable.
Not even feigning ignorance.
She didn't think her heart would let her, anyways.
Footsteps behind her culminated in Charlie and Mary arriving at the door. “Oh, I see you’ve met my sister, Elizabeth.”
John’s eyes widened, but didn’t leave Elizabeth, which she found slightly unnerving. “We’ve actually met. A very long time ago.”
Elizabeth turned her head down and slowly backed away from the door, giving John room to enter the foyer of their house. The dreadful possibility about someone asking how they had been acquainted began to overwhelm her; after all, Mary had been away at school and Charlie wasn't even in the picture yet.
But Mary was too self-centered and Charlie wasn't good at reading between the lines.
Mary was all grins and giggles as she commented on dinner last night and her health, neither of which anyone had asked about. John was polite enough to give her a courteous nod. Charlie patted his pocket for his keys and found them, giving Mary a quick kiss on the forehead as he and John headed back out the door.
Though Elizabeth didn’t miss the dark look that John threw over his shoulder just before she closed the door.
And just like that, John Sheppard walked out of her life. Again.
Mary turned to regard her sister. “Good morning, Elizabeth! How was your night?”
“As well as it can be, taking care of a sick nephew,” Elizabeth replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
It seemed to succeed, for Mary made a noncommittal “hmm” sound and continued chit-chatting. Elizabeth would’ve paid attention, but she wasn’t really concerned with what John Sheppard looked like, or how he treated the family, or what jokes Isa and Harri tried to tell.
Frankly, she didn’t want to care. It hurt too much.
So when Charlie stuck his head in from the back at the same time that someone knocked at the front door, Elizabeth politely dismissed herself to answer it.
She didn’t hear Charlie saying that he and John Sheppard had struck up a conversation the night before at dinner and that he was coming to meet him for a golf game.
When Elizabeth opened the front door, she frowned in confusion for less than a second before she realized that she knew the face behind the aviator sunglasses. The uncontrollable dark hair, the hazel eyes that she knew were there, the hint of five o'clock shadow even though it was ten in the morning, the lips that curved in a friendly smile until the realization of who he was looking at finally popped. After eight years, she still knew that face.
And he knew her too.
John Sheppard slowly took off the glasses, staring back at her in a look consisting of shock and confusion. “Elizabeth,” he enunciated slowly, almost in disbelief.
She knew the shock was visible on her face, and she strained until she finally found her voice. “John.”
After eight years, that's how she greeted him? Her mind berated her, but under the circumstances, nothing else was acceptable.
Not even feigning ignorance.
She didn't think her heart would let her, anyways.
Footsteps behind her culminated in Charlie and Mary arriving at the door. “Oh, I see you’ve met my sister, Elizabeth.”
John’s eyes widened, but didn’t leave Elizabeth, which she found slightly unnerving. “We’ve actually met. A very long time ago.”
Elizabeth turned her head down and slowly backed away from the door, giving John room to enter the foyer of their house. The dreadful possibility about someone asking how they had been acquainted began to overwhelm her; after all, Mary had been away at school and Charlie wasn't even in the picture yet.
But Mary was too self-centered and Charlie wasn't good at reading between the lines.
Mary was all grins and giggles as she commented on dinner last night and her health, neither of which anyone had asked about. John was polite enough to give her a courteous nod. Charlie patted his pocket for his keys and found them, giving Mary a quick kiss on the forehead as he and John headed back out the door.
Though Elizabeth didn’t miss the dark look that John threw over his shoulder just before she closed the door.
And just like that, John Sheppard walked out of her life. Again.
If I'd added any more description, I probably would've been drooling...
I tell you Teal'c, hockey is the coolest game on Earth!
Did you not say it is played on ice, O'Neill?
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