[SH] The First Time

[shepcrew]

This was it, he decided. They'd been together long enough for him to be certain of a few things, and, also? It just felt right.

He had nothing planned save for the where, and the presentation of the where. He decided that several candles on the dresser - the surface of which had been cleared of just about everything - would suffice for lighting. Not too many, because that was over-kill, and besides, he had no idea how candles played a role in those rituals she mentioned and the last thing he wanted was for her to be reminded of that. Somehow, he didn't think it would matter, but still. The thought was there. And he banished it.

The awkward part came when Teyla discovered him smuggling the candles to his room. She raised a brow and he stammered something incoherent and fled for the sanctuary of his room. He had gone for lunch with McKay, and when he had returned, his modest supply of candles had been augmented to provide an artful, yet sensual display, and a bowl sat in the middle of a semi-circle of candles of various sizes on the dresser, with a bottle of scented rose-water and a strange flower that reminded him of a lily on a lilypad. Peeking out from under the bowl was a folded piece of paper, which he snatched up and read eagerly.

The proper Athosian custom for this particular event of courtship requires candles placed in a specific array around the room. The centerpiece of a floating flower is to represent the eternalness of your union, as the flames represent the strength of your passion.

I will be by to light the candles and set the flower when the time comes.

I wish you both the best.

T.

He smiled and pocketed the note. He looked around his room and figured that, incongruous as the candles would be with the rest of the decor, it was somehow fitting. Thanks, Teyla. I owe you one.

Now, all he had to do was wait for Inara to arrive for her visit and reherse the excuse he had to force her to use the guest chambers to freshen up.

...He just wished he wasn't so damned nervous.

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[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He smiles. "Yes."

Then he considers the question, giving her a critical once-over. "I suppose saying something formal and nice doesn't help you much?" He smiles and gives her hand a squeeze. "Just...be my Semi-Ascended Temple Priestess," he says softly. "That'll be enough."

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

"I think I can manage that," she says softly back, tilting her head a bit and brushing her cheek over the back of his hand, brushing a kiss over his knuckles. Her eyes never leave his, soft and loving as her gaze is.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He knows that they can potentially stay there for the next life-time, just sitting there looking at each other and playing cute with the hand holding. Unfortunately, as much as he'd really,really love to, mother nature waits for no man, neither do his plans.

So, he gestures with his head in the direction of the lowered ramp and says, "Shall we, then?"

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

"Mm-hmm..." and she moves gracefully, if reluctantly as it means they must part ways for long enough to change. "And I'll see you at dinner..." where she looks forward to finding out what this surprise is.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

"I'll be by to collect you in forty-five minutes," he says, getting up and leading her out. Meaning that she gets to go to his temporary room while he goes elsewhere.

And before they part ways, he leaves her with a lingering kiss.

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

And, yes, his kisses still leave her melting. And smiling. And standing there for just a moment afterwards in a daze of dreamy contentment.

And then she's off to his temporary room to change, since he's off elsewhere.

Most of her stuff is formal dress, really, at least by most people's standards. But she usually does bring at least one formal dress, which she pulls out now. A silk-velvet creation of deep burgundy that brought out the clear brown of her eyes, flattered her skin tone. The neckline was just low enough to be faintly suggestive and high enough to be decorous for any formal circumstance. It clasped at the shoulders with gold pieces worked in the shape of flowers, leaving her arms bare for the complimenting pale gold charmeuse shawl.

Normally she would be wearing some sort of jewelry suitable to the occasion, but for tonight she left her neck bare, putting on only a pair of gold chandelier earrings. Her hair was pinned up and back with a few strands loose to frame her face, clasped with a gold circlet and with a smaller veil of burgundy, embroidered in copper and gold.

She's ready at least a few minutes before he comes by for her, and, nervous, takes those minutes to still her breathing and calm herself as much as she can. Meditation exercises that are supposed to help don't, much. She does at least manage to stop pacing, even if she nearly spills the small box of cosmetics. Not much. She never needed much. A little touch for symmetry and for luck (as if she needs luck, but she's all aflutter) and then she's ready and waiting.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He's showered and changed, hair as untamed as ever and, after several moments of agonizing, he finally decides on the dress blues. He said formal, after all.

"God, I feel like I did on my wedding day," he mutters, as Ronon helps him straighten a collar John's probably straightened a billion times before and for some reason can't this time.

Ronon grins and finally beats his friend's hands down to his sides. "Relax. This isn't your wedding day. Hell, I don't think I want to be present if you ever did marry her, if this is how you are now."

"I just...for whatever reason, this is different. And I swear, buddy, I have never been more freaked out in my life."

"Like the very first time all over again, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Jon replies with a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay, how do I look?"

"You look fine. Now get going or you'll miss your window."

"Right." And then he's off, knocking on the door to his temporary room a minute or two away from the 45 minute-mark.

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

And when she opens the door all the butterflies come zipping back to her stomach, and they've brought friends. A lot of friends.

Somehow the scruffy hair doesn't look out of place in all that formality, makes it John in all his handsome, formally-dressed glory rather than a stiff-backed stranger. And the dress blues are somehow suited to him, at least in this moment. And, of course, she's staring. Appreciating.

In love, and it's so very evident right now.

(And speechless, as well. Which isn't something that happens very often.)

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He's equally as stunned by her as she is by him. It's possible that he, too, has lost all vocabulary, and this night suddenly went from being a number on his nerves to seriously killing him dead.

He swallows thickly, forcing himself to relax and let the evening play out the way it will, and hopefully the parts of it he's tried to orchestrate will move the way they should.

"You look...I, uh....wow." And it's the first time she ever visited Atlantis all over again, as he's as articulate as ever. Again, he's not terribly inclined to break this moment, but the voice in the back of his head reminds him that there will be time enough later for the endless strings of eternal moments. Right now, he has an appointment to catch at just the right time.

He bows slightly before he offers her his arm. "Dinner awaits, m'lady."

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

She remembers to breathe. Remembers, even, to take his arm with her customary grace and a small curtsey, even if it feels as though she can't stop smiling. "Then, lead on, m'lord." Or she might have said m'love. Actually, she probably did.

And she is fair glowing as he does, radiant in a way she's never displayed for anyone, at any event before. In a way that was likely never possible before she fell head over heels for one adorable scruffy-haired Lieutenant Colonel.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He leads her, past many stares and openly gaping people, to a balcony. Not the balcony, but one that's out of the way and private. It's wide enough to comfortably accommodate a table set for two with enough room to move around and not worry about bumping into the furniture. On the table is a single candle waiting to bit lit, and next to it a bouquet in an Athosian-made vase , consisting of Inara's flower surrounded by complementary blossoms.

The table cloth isn't silk, since this is a military outpost and not the Ritz, but it's white; the place settings are actually real and not the usual hardy plastic used on a day-to-day basis. The wine glasses (on loan from Elizabeth) are the real fare, too, and not the usual ones from the mess.

To one side, out of the way, is Major Lorne, also in his dress blues, standing at easy attention. And he's far enough away so that he doesn't obstruct what John has been aiming for all this time, and it's the reason why this spot - found by mere chance - was chosen:

The sun is setting on the horizon, the calm waters of Lantea reflecting the array of colours from the the golden light as it slowly deepens into an amber hue. And, as they step onto the balcony, there is a brief yet brilliant flare, a last send off of the sun's radiance before the shadows begin to slowly bleed ever so gracefully into the dying light.

And he's watching her out of the corner of his eye, hoping that this was everything she had been anticipating and more.

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

Her mouth shapes the 'oh' but having been left breathless by it all it's hard to make the sound actually come out. And there should be more words but the 'oh' is what's stuck there, eyes wide and full of wonder and...

And it's beautiful. It's all so, so beautiful, and even with the wonder of the sight she can't help but glance briefly at John because, well, he arranged it all and so carefully and perfectly. And. Words are failing her even as thoughts right now as she looks out at the sunset, back at John. It's all so... it's almost heartbreakingly perfect. Is heartbreakingly perfect, except for the heartbreak part, which is entirely inappropriate to a moment that's too full of love to be heartbreak.

And she does manage to at least vocalize the "Oh..." after a moment, a sound that encompasses amazement and wonder and joy and gratitude and love and all sorts of other things that escape her in more wordy form right now. And, "John..." After a moment, sliding her hand to curl around his, as if there could be any doubt about her joy in the whole arrangement.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He smiles as something inside him finally relaxes without him having to try. He could do this. John Sheppard could totally pull this off. It would be spectacular.

He leads her to the table, where he pulls the chair out for her, making sure she's seated comfortably before taking his place across from her. At a subtle glance from John, Lorne walks over.

He bows. "Good evening. My name is Evan and I'll be your waiter this evening."

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

Her composure is unshakeable, or at least, her poise. But something in her eyes suggests delighted laughter as she nods to (poor) Lorne with all the gravity she would give were they ... well, actually in a restaurant.

And John gets a brilliant, amused smile for this. She can only imagine him putting the idea to Lorne, and the reaction it would have gotten.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

John smiles gratefully up at Lorne. If he hadn't promised the Major payment for this, he'd be putting the man in for a raise. And Lorne, bless him, plays the part beautifully.

"Might I interest you in some wine? We have a fine selection from around the Pegasus Galaxy; Might I suggest a hearty red from P7K-988, or perhaps a delicate white from M3Y-461?"

John looks to Inara, brow slightly raised in the silent question of lady's choice?

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

It's the cuteness of the act, the whole setup, that makes her cheeks flush a little with pleasure, eyes sparkling. She's managing not to smile too much. Barely.

And, well, if he's letting her choose... she has to breathe for a moment before she can speak clearly and select a red wine, which she usually tends to favor. In absence of knowing what would complement the dinner, she'll go with what she likes.

She still can't quite believe this is happening. That he's arranged all this, set it up, playing it out... for her, it speaks to time and care and patience and dedication and that is worth so much.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

John goes for the red, as well, having sampled both earlier and preferring the red. Lorne isn't gone long enough for any conversation before he's pouring them both a glass of wine and then backing off.

John has no idea what to say yet, outside of raising his glass and offering, "To true love."

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

"To true love," she agrees, with a smile and still a hint of a blush. (And it will occur to her later, although it's far from her mind now, that Lorne is not someone to play poker against if he can maintain straight-faced composure in the face of all this sweetness.)

Long may it last, she does think, but doesn't say. "And the joy it brings," simple, and not likely to turn around and bring up bad thoughts.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

He smiles at her words and touches his glass to hers delicately, letting the chime of striking glass hang as he takes a sip and sets it down.

"Now you know why I deflected you with the Jumper ride," he says, eyes sparkling, leaning forward a little. "Couldn't have you all balcony-gazing'd out."

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

"Mmm-hmm," and, yes, they were right about the wine. Best be careful not to let it go to her head, she decides.

There might be a bit of a wile or two in the way she savors the taste, lashes fluttering for a moment, then leaning slightly forward to match him. Her eyes sparkle, too, mischief and love and a flare of excitement.

"And that was some excellent deflecting, too. Almost makes me wonder what else you have planned." And she looks forward to finding out, in due time, though.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

And he appreciates the display, because he knows it's just for him.

"Well, you'll just have to make it through dinner, now, won't you?" He says playfully. "And thank you."

And really, dinner was the hard part of this whole deal, because MRE's even when made pretty on a plate, aren't very good. Oooooh, he's going to owe a lot of people a lot of things.

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

She's very seriously considering rearranging her life to make such displays only for him, for the forseeable future. But she'll wait to tell him that until she knows what she's going to do.

"I suppose I will," she teases gently back, beaming. Because, really, this whole thing is... well, it's still amazing. "I think I can manage to contain my anticipation."

Okay, maybe not. "I still... this is so amazing, John. It really..." Words. Failing her. Once again, he's caught the Companion totally off guard and her fingers spread for a moment, as though seeking the words she can't seem to find. And then her hands are curled in front of the smile in a gesture that's shy, delighted, adorable and joyful and all the things she never got to experience.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

His smile is the dazzling one. He can't help but preen a little at her pleasure, and he offers a modest and off-handed, "Well...you know...." a slight shrug. "It was nothing." It was actually everything.

Lorne gets a silent command from an obviously well-concealed ear-piece, and he's heading off momentarily. Then he's returning with another Marine who's carrying the first course.

"Ma'am, sir," Lorne says, standing to one side as the Marine waits for them to move back so he can set the bowls down. "Your meal tonight is traditional Athosian. First course consists of tuttleroot soup, slow cooked over an ash fire to give it a unique flavouring. Please, enjoy."

John's blinking up at Lorne, totally wondering what the hell is going on. This wasn't the menu. His eyes narrow as he suspects...Teyla! Sigh. He was going to have a talk with her...

Ah well. As long as his teammate wasn't the one who cooked, this should be good.

[sevenvirtues.livejournal.com]

She glances at John's semi-surprise, moving around and to accomodate the Marine-waiter with practiced and reflexive ease. Apparently he's not the only one who's been planning. That's rather cute, too, although it also makes her wonder how many people have been playing matchmaker on them... or perhaps not matchmaker, but facilitator.

At least it means, or seems to, that she has the approval of John's friends and adoptive family. And that makes her feel ... better, somehow. More light-hearted, in a way. Something like that.

[shepcrew.livejournal.com]

John takes a tentative mouthful of the soup, nodding in satisfaction. "Well, I guess it's safe to say that Teyla isn't our chef tonight," he says, but it's not unkind. "She probably got one of the other Athosians to cook for us tonight."