Disclaimer: It belongs to Jerry and Hank and I'm not making money from it.
Summary: She would have wanted to see the deep blue water, the unreachable horizon and the sand that was bathed in a golden light under the setting sun.
A/N: Mariel, thanks you for going over this and for your priceless compliments! This one's for everyone who still believes in JS... just a short vignette, the result of an afternoon spent at Sam's apartment.
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Paradise
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"To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour." – William Blake
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"Tell me about a place we could go to…"
"Mmm…" He thought for an instant. "Let's see… I know about this one beach… there're a faint breeze in the air, just enough so that it's not too hot. The sand is fine, finer than you can even imagine; you can take it in your palms and let it slip through your fingers."
She shifted closer to him and he went on, giving her the details she so desperately craved.
"There's the sea in front of us, Sam, and deep blue, endless water as far as the eye can see. Everything is untouched and you're free to go anywhere you want. The horizon is millions of miles away, a thin line where sea and sky meet. You can hear the tides in background; and they're alive, born at the other end of the immeasurable world and ending up rolling on the sand at our feet. And then we're lying on the beach together, enjoying the moment, letting the sun caress our skins."
Sam smiled as he paused, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, her fingers trailing circles on his arm. "And we stay there all day?"
"A day… a year… Time has no meaning; every second is as long as a lifetime." He watched as her fingers drew invisible paths near his wrist, then continued, "There's no one around; it's just us. It's hot because the sun is high, but the water is fresh and you can swim for as long as you want. The sea is so calm and transparent near the beach that you can see the white sand at the bottom. And when we've had enough, I'll take you back to that small village not far away and we can eat before we head back to the beach and walk with our feet in the water."
"Yeah…" she whispered. "Let me guess, we're eating junk food. The kind that's supposed to be bad for your health but that we're so accustomed to."
"Unh-unh," he shook his head slightly and she stopped grazing his skin. She raised an eyebrow at him, curious to know what he had in mind.
"I'll take you to a restaurant; one that has the best dishes and wines you can ever find."
Her smile widened as she pictured the scene in her mind. Somehow, it was already familiar.
"What, doesn't that sound more romantic than eating cheeseburgers?" He caught her thoughtful smile. "Admit it, Sam."
She crossed his slightly mischievous gaze and chuckled, then became serious again. "Is this a real place?"
"Of course it's a real place," he laughed quietly.
She resumed brushing the tip of her fingers on his arm, letting them glide on his smooth skin, still wondering if he'd ever been to that place or if it was only a figment of his imagination. Either way, she decided, it didn't matter; they both needed to believe it existed. This would be their beach, their corner of paradise no one would know about.
She looked at him and muttered, "Tell me we'll go there one day."
It was just a whisper, but it was full of expectation and hope, and it filled his heart with warmth and affection. He met her eyes and said quietly, "We will. I'll take you there, Sam. I promise."
She allowed herself to believe him. And she allowed herself, in that instant, to dream that he was hers.
"Jack?"
He turned to look at her better, slightly taken aback by the intensity of her stare. "What?" he asked softly.
"I love you."
He held her gaze. She smiled again, but this time the sadness in her eyes was impossible to miss; and although he wanted to believe that it could be as simple as these three words, they both knew it would never be.
He shut his eyes and held her close.
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He stood alone, alone on the beach. Hours were immaterial; time flew by in a parallel universe and this one was at a standstill, frozen in a perfect state so that it could be kept in mind. His skin was burned but his physical well-being was irrelevant; he wasn't here to lie on the beach and enjoy the afternoon.
He was here because he'd lost her and he grieved; and because she would have wanted to see the deep blue water, the unreachable horizon and the sand that was bathed in a golden light under the setting sun.
He'd never brought her to this beach.
Alone in the breeze, he allowed himself to dream. Dream of her apartment in the middle of downtown New York, dream of these days and nights they had shared together. There was a soft tune around them, light music notes flying in the air, a melody that seemed to come from the bottom of the earth and could be heard across the room, across the city, stretched across eternity. Her hair was the color of the sand and as soft as the breeze on his neck, and she was warm like the sunrays that slanted his face.
He allowed himself to dream of a time when a whisper and a glance were worth more than a lifetime spent alone on a beach, and when paradise truly existed, not here but in their thoughts and imaginations.
He remembered that afternoon, remembered the way they had dreamt together, visited these magic places and believed in illusions; he remembered everything because every second they had spent together was engraved in his memory, protected and cherished, infinitely more precious than anything he had ever owned.
And in a way, he had held his promise; he had taken her to that beach once, back in a time when the sea and the sand had existed in her apartment, and the sun had been in their souls and their hearts.
/ End