This ficlet was inspired by a fic challenge issued today and I wrote it straight away and, thus, I am posting it straight away. See the overly long and dull author's notes for more, and enjoy:-) Su
Title: Mute Apology
Category: Friendship
Content Level: Age 13+, for language
Content Warnings: Minor language - only one dubious word
Pairings: Jack and Sam (friendship)
Season: Any after 1 and before 8
Spoilers: None
Summary: A moment of silent communication was all it took
Disclaimer: Not mine and sadly never will be. No copyright infringement is intended. Copyright © 2007 Su Freund
Author's Notes:
1. Written in response to the Word of the Week Fic Challenge on the SJFic Yahoo Group, issued (and written) on 2 May 2007, to write a story using the word apology as its basis.
2. I didn't have any particular episode in mind while writing this, although there are a few it could be considered an episode tag for: Shades of Grey, 100 Days, The Other Side and Scorched Earth are all examples. It doesn't matter - read it as you will. It expresses the essence of a special relationship and way of communicating, not specifics.
3. While being a ficlet, this is also a quadruple drabble of exactly 400 words.
4. The ficlet has not been beta read and any errors are well and truly mine.
5. Note to self - when your author's notes are nearly as long as your fic you should learn to shut up :-)
Mute Apology
The apology hung mutely on Jack's lips, rolling round his mind and lingering on his tongue, but remaining unspoken. He briefly pursed his mouth, anger roiling in the pit of his stomach. Why should he apologize for doing his duty, for being Jack O'Neill? Being an outright callous, bastard, or appearing that way, is in the job description.
Sam watched his silent stillness, unable to discern his mood, as none of his turmoil showed on that expressionless face or in his stance. The stillness was eerie coming from someone like the colonel, who was almost constantly in motion, fidgeting or gesticulating, indicating his unease, ire or pleasure with his posture and eyes. Those eyes, however, were darkened with something unfathomable.
Then she saw a flicker of expression, a plea for understanding, in those deep brown depths.
I'm me, he was thinking, for good or bad, and I can be nothing more or less than me; take it or leave it. I do my job and my duty in the only way I know how. I do my best. I shouldn't have to explain myself, I shouldn't have to be sorry, but I am anyway.
He moved forward, a gesture of his hand, quirk of his eyebrow, twitch of his lips, and everything he was thinking was suddenly there for her to see quite plainly. A brief flash of openness and honesty, voicing thoughts he could never articulate with words.
They stared, captured in each others eyes for a few moments, and the corners of Sam's lips turned upwards into a small smile, her eyes shining with the knowledge she had sought and found. She understood, she knew, she accepted. Jack didn't have to say or explain anything. Apologies were no longer necessary.
Returning her smile, his eyes escaped their captivity and roamed over to the table, his hands reaching to scoop up some small doohickey about which he had no knowledge, and that he didn't even care to understand. His fingers smoothed and tapped their way over its surface and he turned it in his hands absently and without curiosity. It was just there.
That one moment of silent communication was all it took. The reasons she'd needed an apology and the reasons he'd wanted to give it were irrelevant and forgotten. None of that mattered anymore. They were at peace and all was right with the world once more.
