Ficlet: Memories and Regrets
SGA, John/Nancy, Last Time
(Also just a bit of John/Ronon)
Rating: PG13 Nothing explicit
Note: Written as a Comment Fic prompt posted by Gaffsie.
I'm still fighting with HTML!
Memories and Regrets
It was awkward, painfully awkward, to meet one’s ex-wife with your current lover standing by your side at the best of times.
It was really awkward when it was at your father’s funeral. It was another galaxy awkward when your lover was Ronon Dex. John felt like needles and pins were ghosting across his skin when Nancy came over to offer her condolences. She looked good. She always had. But it was the bright intelligence in her eyes that had drawn him to her when they’d met.
She came over, gave him an embrace, offered her cheek for a kiss. The scent of her perfume carried him back to their first meeting as if he had stepped through a rift in time …
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
He had been recuperating from an injury, feeling lost, weak and just bored enough to be dangerous. His father was away on business with Dave, and John decided to go against doctor’s orders and drive into DC, maybe find a bar, find a date, find some easy sex. Back then, he hadn’t been particular; he’d spent enough time in cultures where bisexuality was overlooked as a flaw.
He’d found a bar -- the kind of place that was just on the edge of respectability - where people looking for a taste of the wild side went to find trouble. He remembered sitting in a dark corner, watching a woman. Sleek, fierce, and a maybe a little drunk, she was flirting with a guy who seemed to want to take the action to a level she wasn’t comfortable with. When he started moving in on her, she laughed and gave him a playful shove. From that, things deteriorated fast. The guy had about thirty pounds and five inches on Sheppard, but he was soft. John had him squealing on the floor in a few quick moves. He’d also taken a punch to his solar plexus that left him hunched over and pale. The woman had grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the bar. He leaned against the brick wall and worked on getting his breath back as the cool air cleared his head. He took a look at the woman and liked what he saw. She had intelligent green eyes and honey-blond hair. Slim, hard and cool. Defined muscles in her arms made him want to touch her. Don’t go there, the voice of reason said. He ignored it. “It’s kind of a rough place for a woman to be alone.”
“I was okay,” she said, “Which is more than I can say for you.”
“I’m fine. Just …” he shrugged. “Long story,” he repeated. “I’m John Sheppard.”
“Nancy O’Brian.” She picked up his dog tags which had slipped outside his shirt collar. “Captain John Sheppard.” She smiled up at him. “How about I take you someplace a little more private for a drink?”
Private had turned out to be her apartment. One drink led to another, and that was how it had started. It had gone on to marriage, which had pleased John’s father to no end and put an end to “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” in certain professional circles. He’d made Major shortly after. Right about then, the marriage had started failing. It wasn’t Nancy’s fault. It was the job, and it was him. It was that part of him that was restless and reckless. That part of him that wanted something Nancy couldn’t give.
The guilt and regret of his failure would always be with him.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
John still felt that tug of guilt when he said goodbye to her two days later. He had a feeling this would be the last time they’d meet. He’d thought she might kiss him, but she didn’t. She just touched his arm as the regret in her eyes mirrored his own.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she’d said, and she wasn’t referring to the information she’d given him on a memory stick.
He nodded briefly. “I think I have.”
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Ronon was waiting for him. He was sitting on a narrow bunk, his legs stretched out, reading. John stood in the doorway, looking at his lover. There was a sweet heaviness in his chest that he’d never felt when he had looked at Nancy. He had wanted to, God, he had hoped for it at times, but it was for Ronon alone. He closed his eyes and let it go.
Ronon looked up as if John had spoken those feelings to him. He set down the book. “You look tired.”
John would have laughed it off, but he didn’t have it in him to make the effort. He sat down on the bed and Ronon opened his arms. “Come here.” He gathered John in, held him until John's body relaxed and he rested his head on Ronon's shoulder. “Rough time?” he asked quietly.
“Not rough … just lost.” He knew Ronon understood that better than anybody else. He tilted his head enough for a kiss, brief and comforting. He sighed and swung his legs to the floor. “Well, I said we’d start going over those files Nancy gave us.”
“She seems nice,” Ronon said. “It must have been hard to leave her.”
“Believe me, it was harder to stay,” John stretched and groaned. “She’s better off with what’s his name.” He smiled at Ronon, saw the answering warmth in his eyes. “And I’m better off by far, with you. So, let’s go save the world.”
The door closed behind them, locking away both memories and regrets.
The End
(Also just a bit of John/Ronon)
Rating: PG13 Nothing explicit
Note: Written as a Comment Fic prompt posted by Gaffsie.
I'm still fighting with HTML!
Memories and Regrets
It was awkward, painfully awkward, to meet one’s ex-wife with your current lover standing by your side at the best of times.
It was really awkward when it was at your father’s funeral. It was another galaxy awkward when your lover was Ronon Dex. John felt like needles and pins were ghosting across his skin when Nancy came over to offer her condolences. She looked good. She always had. But it was the bright intelligence in her eyes that had drawn him to her when they’d met.
She came over, gave him an embrace, offered her cheek for a kiss. The scent of her perfume carried him back to their first meeting as if he had stepped through a rift in time …
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
He had been recuperating from an injury, feeling lost, weak and just bored enough to be dangerous. His father was away on business with Dave, and John decided to go against doctor’s orders and drive into DC, maybe find a bar, find a date, find some easy sex. Back then, he hadn’t been particular; he’d spent enough time in cultures where bisexuality was overlooked as a flaw.
He’d found a bar -- the kind of place that was just on the edge of respectability - where people looking for a taste of the wild side went to find trouble. He remembered sitting in a dark corner, watching a woman. Sleek, fierce, and a maybe a little drunk, she was flirting with a guy who seemed to want to take the action to a level she wasn’t comfortable with. When he started moving in on her, she laughed and gave him a playful shove. From that, things deteriorated fast. The guy had about thirty pounds and five inches on Sheppard, but he was soft. John had him squealing on the floor in a few quick moves. He’d also taken a punch to his solar plexus that left him hunched over and pale. The woman had grabbed his arm and hustled him out of the bar. He leaned against the brick wall and worked on getting his breath back as the cool air cleared his head. He took a look at the woman and liked what he saw. She had intelligent green eyes and honey-blond hair. Slim, hard and cool. Defined muscles in her arms made him want to touch her. Don’t go there, the voice of reason said. He ignored it. “It’s kind of a rough place for a woman to be alone.”
“I was okay,” she said, “Which is more than I can say for you.”
“I’m fine. Just …” he shrugged. “Long story,” he repeated. “I’m John Sheppard.”
“Nancy O’Brian.” She picked up his dog tags which had slipped outside his shirt collar. “Captain John Sheppard.” She smiled up at him. “How about I take you someplace a little more private for a drink?”
Private had turned out to be her apartment. One drink led to another, and that was how it had started. It had gone on to marriage, which had pleased John’s father to no end and put an end to “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” in certain professional circles. He’d made Major shortly after. Right about then, the marriage had started failing. It wasn’t Nancy’s fault. It was the job, and it was him. It was that part of him that was restless and reckless. That part of him that wanted something Nancy couldn’t give.
The guilt and regret of his failure would always be with him.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
John still felt that tug of guilt when he said goodbye to her two days later. He had a feeling this would be the last time they’d meet. He’d thought she might kiss him, but she didn’t. She just touched his arm as the regret in her eyes mirrored his own.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she’d said, and she wasn’t referring to the information she’d given him on a memory stick.
He nodded briefly. “I think I have.”
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Ronon was waiting for him. He was sitting on a narrow bunk, his legs stretched out, reading. John stood in the doorway, looking at his lover. There was a sweet heaviness in his chest that he’d never felt when he had looked at Nancy. He had wanted to, God, he had hoped for it at times, but it was for Ronon alone. He closed his eyes and let it go.
Ronon looked up as if John had spoken those feelings to him. He set down the book. “You look tired.”
John would have laughed it off, but he didn’t have it in him to make the effort. He sat down on the bed and Ronon opened his arms. “Come here.” He gathered John in, held him until John's body relaxed and he rested his head on Ronon's shoulder. “Rough time?” he asked quietly.
“Not rough … just lost.” He knew Ronon understood that better than anybody else. He tilted his head enough for a kiss, brief and comforting. He sighed and swung his legs to the floor. “Well, I said we’d start going over those files Nancy gave us.”
“She seems nice,” Ronon said. “It must have been hard to leave her.”
“Believe me, it was harder to stay,” John stretched and groaned. “She’s better off with what’s his name.” He smiled at Ronon, saw the answering warmth in his eyes. “And I’m better off by far, with you. So, let’s go save the world.”
The door closed behind them, locking away both memories and regrets.
The End