Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, 'cept ma shoes.
Glistening
He noticed it the first time she wore it to work.
At least he assumed that it was the first time.
It glistened – no, that was too much of a 'happy' word, like it was a good thing. It sparkled, shined, reflected, flashed – yes, it flashed on her finger, a sharp contrast to everything else under the harsh briefing room lights, catching his attention soon after she arrived. It called so much attention to itself that it would have been impossible for him not to have noticed before now, bringing him to the conclusion that it was new.
It was gaudy and large – not at all her – but he couldn't look away.
He couldn't believe that she was just wearing it like that, for everyone to see, though he conceded that, that was probably the point. He finally tore his gaze away from 'it' to determine his team's reactions, but they either didn't notice or didn't care, so he decided to feel indignant on their behalf.
He didn't say anything to her about it – didn't know what to say. He knew that she had been seeing someone, but he didn't realise that the relationship had gotten so bad, far, permanent – whatever. She didn't say anything either. And she didn't exactly try to call attention to it, though it managed that fine on its own, nothing that would give him an opening to talk about it.
She didn't wear it on missions. Probably wasn't allowed, a safety hazard or something. He couldn't remember if the other officers wore theirs or not, and made a mental note to start checking.
Two months passed, and she still hadn't said anything official about 'it'. Maybe she was waiting for him, because he was usually the one to broach the difficult subjects. But this time he knew that it wasn't his place, so he kept his peace, seething on the inside. He also started trying to ignore it, block it out, and despite its enthusiastic attempts to be acknowledged, winking at him in the neon base lights, he eventually succeeded.
Which is probably why he didn't immediately notice its absence.
It was after her dad's death, when he was wondering why he – whoever he was - wasn't around, helping her through it, that he dared to look at her mysteriously bare hand. He quickly tried to squash the elation that threatened to run through him with thoughts of it being left somewhere, or being cleaned or something. It didn't necessarily mean anything.
But that didn't stop him from watching for it, checking daily to see if it dared to return.
Just when he began allowing hope to return, that maybe it was over, that she had given it back, the glistening returned.
He still couldn't believe that no-one else had anything to say about it, and he scolded himself internally for allowing hope to foster. He wasn't really that surprised by it, and at least she seemed happier with it now. It was easier to ignore it now. He thought that maybe she was trying to hide it, keeping her hands below the table-line, gesturing less.
That didn't last long though. He thought perhaps that she was getting happier, she got more excited about her technological finds, and her frantic gesturing increased, so he figured the date was getting closer.
The more she got used to its presence, the harder it became for him to ignore, until one day, for the first time in months, he finally gave in and looked at it.
Then he frowned.
He looked up at her, then back to the ring, and the frown got deeper.
She trailed off in the middle of her sentence when she noticed the direction of his gaze. She blushed lightly, and dropped her hand to her lap, ducking her head.
Whose ring was she wearing now? It was defiantly different, it suited her better. Had she made him get her a new one? It was too soon for her to be engaged to someone else, wasn't it?
Once again checking his team mates for a reaction, his gaze became fixed on the man who suddenly became his prime suspect. The smirk on Jack's face at Sam's behaviour, added to his sheepish expression when he realised that he too was under scrutiny, almost confirmed Daniel's suspicions. It was their identical attempt-at-innocence expressions that finally clued him in.
A small "huh" left his throat, and as Sam continued her report to General O'Neill, Daniel bent over the report in front of him, hiding the grin rapidly forming on his face, content that all had been set right with the world, or at least with that corner of the SGC.