Days Later
Thinking
She sat thinking.
Thinking was what she was good at. It had been her mind and ability to think on her feet that had saved her life many times and gotten her out of trouble a few times more; but this time, thinking would be the very thing that threw her up a creek without a paddle, and yet as she skated this thin ice, fully knowing the dangers, she continued to just sit there and think.
The analogue clock before her tick-tocked its way forward at an excruciatingly slow pace, so slow that seconds seemed minutes and minutes seemed hours and she watched the dial without seeing for an eternity. The pale grey plastic of the car interior surrounded her, the bland core of the car completing the task of being un-distracting to the driver. Its Volvo seal of approval guaranteeing one of the safest driving experiences known to man; but she wasn't driving she was sitting.
Sitting in a driveway adorned by trees, a driveway than lead to a wooden house from behind which could be seen the black smoke signals of the occupant's barbeque rising into the air with swirls and tumbles in the afternoon breeze. She hadn't been invited, nor had she even known that he was planning to burn whatever meat was in the fridge that week, but she knew that she needed to talk to him. The events of recent days could not go unnoticed and the questions in her mind could not go unanswered.
Not this time.
But still she waited in her car and continued in deep thought.
With a half hearted determination her eyes re-focused on the clock in front of her, showing that she'd been sitting there for ten minutes, and yet she could have sworn it had been hours.
Her sense of time had been skewed over the past week, events and emotions pasting by her at pace; time had been the last thing on her mind these days.
Trembling slightly, she stepped from the car; her mind seemingly categorising things letting her concentrate on one thing at a time. The first thing was 'get to him'.
Almost in a daze she closed the door behind her, vaguely confidant that the sound of the car door closing would not be over heard by the splutterings of what ever meat was being grilled. The car left unlocked, the keys still in the ignition, she found that she was moving; her legs pulling her forward, heals treading the crunching gravel path, by-passing the front door of the house to reach her goal.
She rounded the corner, a feeling of trepidation and nervousness filling her heart before she looked to the opposite end of the decking before her.
He stood unawares; bottle of beer in one hand, a skewer with charred meat in the other. He hovered close to the grill with a blasé sort of carefulness, pouring the alcohol over the meat and dodging from the flames just in time to save his eyebrows from disappearing.
She faltered for a moment.
To the naked eye it would seem no more than a slight state of unbalance in-step, but really it was a flash of doubt through her mind, a milliseconds pause where she wondered if she'd thought this through. But it passed; the momentum of her feet pulling her forward once more until her heals climbed the wooden steps of decking and gained the attention of the man before her.
Their eyes met unguarded, as they did anytime they looked on the other; a multitude of emotions visible to the other for a second before routine stepped in and military masks found their way back to their owners.
'Hey.' muttered his strong voice, before his gaze was re-captured by the task in front of him.
She was silent; her mind currently trying to find its next step beyond merely getting to where she was.
Taking a few tentative paces forward she glanced up and down the figure before her. His long legs apparent as his baggy trousers barely touched the ground, his broad shoulders stretching the material of the shirt he wore and his slivery hair appearing white in the glaring sun.
This was the figure of a man who had been there for her over the last eight years; through think and thin, good and bad.
And would continue to be there for her, always.
Task in mind, confidence filled her coming from some unknown place, encouraging her to move closer still until she was barely a metre from him.
'Why didn't you stop me?'
Speaking
Despite her outward confidence, the shaking tone of her voice revealed her deepest secret; that she was truly unsure and scared. Thinking had only got her so far, and really it was only to this point which she had allowed herself to think, beyond this very juncture she was out of control, or at least that was how she felt; it was he that had control over the situation. He always did.
Except for the other day.
It was that moment of control which had brought her here again.
At the sound of her voice he sighed quietly his eyes closing for a brief moment as if willing the entire situation away.
A silence passed between them, reflected in the sudden enclosing stillness of the afternoon air. Not a whisper of wind or breeze dared to disturb their conversation. The stillness surrounding them, pushing in on them almost suffocating; but the silence and the unease was far harder to push past than the twist of nature that descended upon the scene.
'When?'
His eyes still closed he asked a question he already knew the answer to. In the blackness of his mind he was still a little unsure as to what answer he truly wanted; unsure as to what answer he would give.
'The other day when I came round.'
She answered her voice still wavering slightly, one of the things that made this entire conversation other-worldly and out of character.
The stillness returned, and for a few seconds nothing was said.
His eyes opened and gazed into the dying embers of the barbeque; the feel of her close to him, the feel of her eyes on him almost driving him crazy. But still he was silent.
Something Sam couldn't stand.
'Why didn't you stop me?' she continued, 'You knew what I was going to say and you didn't stop me. You stopped me before, with out hesitation, with out letting me have a chance. But why then? If I hadn't been interrupted I would have said it, I you knew I would have, but you never stopped me. Why, that day, did you choose to not say anything?'
Her voice was quiet as she spoke unspeakable things; question audible in every word and confusion apparent in her shining eyes.
He gazed into those eyes, normally bright and full of ideas, unnerving slightly was the fact that he saw the tell-tale signs of tears and sadness. But was fully warranted given recent events.
He made as if to speak; drawing in breath loud enough for her to hear, his mouth opening slightly, ready to say something profound but no words came. He glanced once again at the embers before him, somehow gaining courage from their half-hearted glow he spoke.
' 'Cos I know ten minutes of your thinking time is valuable.' He said half seriously, but fully knowing that that would not be enough to subdue the questioning gaze.
It was a gaze of pity, almost, as if she was sad that he found it so hard to finally say what he truly felt, and without thought one word slipped past her lips in annoyance;
'Jack.' her voice barely a whisper over the stale burst of warm air that swept past them; the ashes enjoying one last moment of re-birth before dying out completely.
His eyes widened for a moment, more in shock at her using his name rather than the tone with which it was said. That one word said enough about what this conversation was about to entail.
'Because I wanted to hear it.' He mumbled truthfully, glancing down then heading into the depths of his house, passing from light to dark and soon a stark silhouette against the light shining though the window on the other side of the house.
He left the door open, a silent invitation for her to follow.
Which she did.
Confessing
She moved from the daylight to shadow, crossing the threshold of his patio doors. The cool air-conditioned air wrapped round her, providing a relief from the mild heat of the sun and the stiffening warmth and stillness of the afternoon. The shade giving reprieve from the glare of the day, as her eyes adjusted to the softer light.
The sound of clinking bottles and the vacuum seal of the fridge reached her ears from her left.
Footsteps.
The pop-fizz of two bottles being opened.
More footsteps.
All the while her mind was racing; she glanced round the room and remembered the time that she was here a year ago. She sat on the couch, him on the other side and tried to tell him that day. He stopped her of course. But she knew why. The situation was wrong; he was dying, he was under alien influence… he was still her commanding officer. She remembered as she sat there that day it felt wrong. Not just the fact that she was breaking rules, but it was all wrong, it wasn't the place or the time. And he knew it too. And that's why he stopped her. It was because of that, the wrongness, that it was nothing that was interrupted when Daniel knocked on the door. With them there was always nothing to interrupt, that was the way it had to be.
Her eyes were still out of focus as he came into the room, his feet thudding heavily on the floor.
She stood at one side of the coffee table, closest to their point of entry, while he remained on the other side. He stood watching her for a second as she stared at his worn out couch unaware of his presence.
She was tired; everything about her screamed that very fact. Her shoulders hunched forward slightly, her head hanging just a few millimetres lower than normal, her eyes hooded; a mere shadow of life glinting in their depths and yet, she was still stunningly beautiful. Despite how it may seem, he took comfort in the fact that she had this side to her, the side that showed she could be worn down just like any other human. Many a time when they'd escaped from a near death experience she could just shrug it off as if almost nothing had happened; it was a relief to see that sometimes it got to her, grounding in some ways. And in this vulnerable state he could still see the shinning example of a fine officer and a woman who he loved.
He held out a bottle for her but still she was in deep thought. He set both glass bottles down on the table, the soft thunk of glass on polished wood gaining her attention.
Their gazes met and held.
'I wanted to hear that you weren't going to go though with it. I wanted to hear that you weren't going to make the biggest mistake of your life.'
He could tell that she was waiting for him to continue, that expectant look in her eyes that said everything. He moved with slow and purposeful strides to the sofa before settling in to its depths. His eyelids closed for just a little longer than the excepted time for blinking, then staring into the middle distance he confessed;
'I wanted to hear that you still cared for me, the way I still care about you.'
Guilt
She looked down at the man who had just confessed his soul to her.
He sat, his shoulders relaxed, hands meeting in his lap. The week had taken its toll on him also, and with a stark clarity she seen that the years had not been kind either.
The wrinkles on his brown and round his eyes, once small and almost unnoticeable had grown. Those deep etches across his face showed him as the tired old general that he is only to be further re-enforced by the ever present dark circles round his eyes.
If it where possible she could have sworn that her heart was further saddened by the dejected shell of a man before her who had been a steadfast part of her life for eight years.
Guilt set in fast, she was part of the reason that he was like this. If not the entire reason he was like this.
Some would argue that it was the hectic lifestyle that came from being part of the SGC but for many years he seemed to dodge the passing of time, but it had caught up with him. This last year she seen the change; not just in his outward appearance but in his very soul.
She had done this to him.
'I'm sorry.' She whispered.
Preposition
As the words reached him he sank further into the couch. They cut through him like lightening, said with such sincerity that he could come to no other conclusion than the fact that she didn't love him.
For some reason, whither trying to get over the tearing of his heart or realise what he'd lost, his eyes were drawn to look upon the woman of his heart: the image of which only served to confuse him.
Her eyes shone: behind glistening tears that threatened to fall and deep within the darkness of her eyes, love shone.
Unguarded and beautiful.
'It's my fault,' she continued, 'It's all my fault.'
Her eyelids shuddered closed, those glistening orbs disappearing for a short eternity, and the movement dislodging a single salty droplet causing it to snake its way down her cheek.
Their eyes met once more, hers regretting, his confused, and with no further explanation she turned towards the warm afternoon and made to leave.
'What's your fault?' he asked, getting to his feet ready to stop her from leaving, ready to finally have this conversation.
She stopped inches from the door, her eyes set on the blue skies of Colorado Springs.
'It's my fault that I came here and asked you to break the rules. It's my fault for thinking I could have married Pete; my fault for making things awkward, my fault for hurting you.' She paused form a moment then turned back to look him in the eye. 'It's my fault that I'm in love with you.'
The words seemed to echo round the room, reaching their ears many times over but it did not make it any easier to hear. They were both equally shocked despite knowing that those were the words that would be said this day.
The words hung in the still air and yet spun heavily through their minds; neither moved.
'I've said what I wanted to.'
Guilt filled her once more, seeping through every fibre of her body; but it wasn't for the rules and regulations that she had sworn to uphold. The truth was that she had broken those very rules years ago when she felt the distinct flutter of her heart whenever he walked into a room. No, the guilt was because of the position she'd put him in.
Despite knowing that he was now in a relationship with Kerry Johnston she had continued.
Continued asking the question, continued with telling him how she felt, continued in the hope that there would be an answer.
But no words were forthcoming.
She left the darkness and stepped out into the sun, her heels clicking as she began walking on the wooden expanse. This time however she was thankful for the warmth of the day, but it did very little to combat the chill in her soul. Wrapping her arms around her, all the while wishing that they were someone else's, she headed towards her car.
The clicking slowed when the sounds of muffled footsteps reached her ears, and stopped all together when she could feel the heat radiating from him as he stood inches from her, It was this heat only that could warm her from the inside and send shivers cascading over he skin.
'You ended that sentence with a preposition.'
She grinned upon hearing the smile in his voice, his breath brushing past her cheek.
'I tell you that I'm in love with you and you comment on my grammar?'
A half chuckle reached her ears before an apprehensive silence descended; her shoulders stiffened with nervousness and anticipation.
Moments later those shoulder jumped slightly in shock as she felt his warm finger tips brush hers; the gentle touch was soothing and sent her into a momentary dream, contemplating for a few short seconds what the future could be.
Soon the caress stopped, his hand capturing hers, his long fingers entwining with hers.
'Finish your beer.' He whispered, repeating the words that were said one year ago, then adding, 'If Daniel knocks, hell even if General Hammond knocks I swear I'll kick them out on their collective asses.'
With a gentle squeeze of her hand he led her back inside, this time closing the door behind them both.
xxx END OF CHAPTER xxx
this is just a little something I came up with in my absence of from writing – I hope you like it and depending on the reviews (if any) I will keep writing, hope you like my little tribute to Threads
Nice to be back
Mishy
xx