Rating: PG-13 (pants, tablecloth)
Notes: I made Elizabeth Jewish so I'd have an excuse for this story - I don't know of any canon for or against it. Many thanks to corinna_5 for making it happen.
Ltformav9 makes a note to itself to have the city talk to lcjsheppard, again, not that he's going to pay any more attention than usual, about using a finely calibrated scientific instrument to lay out food, even if it is for a special meal for deweir's holiday. And this is much worse than dmrmcay's usual ham sandwich; ltformav9 is fairly certain that the pasty substance they've just scooped up with their very crumbly crackers is horseradish, which, as a quick chemical analysis confirms, will not be good for its circuits.
But that's still nothing compared to the fact that a little while ago they were all dipping their fingers into their wine and flicking drops of it all over its tabletop.
Ltformav9 also notices when lcjsheppard takes advantage of this-night-is-different-than-all-other-n
And, honestly, as they round the corner into the fourth glass of wine, the table is feeling a little drunk itself, since the flicking business wasn't the last time something spilled, and it's starting to wonder about this pelijah they're holding an extra seat for. He's not in the personnel records, but ltformav9 notes that he gets his own glass of wine. Ancient protocol did not account for this situation.
Deweir gets up from the table, her equilibrium just a little off. She tells dmrmckay that she's really moved that they thought of this. She raises one eyebrow when he says it was lcjsheppard's idea.
After she's gone, lcjsheppard finishes pelijah's wine (He never came. Maybe next year.) and pushes dmrmckay against ltformav9's edge as they touch mouths, and the table registers the familiar weight of the two of them.
The city blows out the candles before any wax spills.