Author's notes; Mendhi are non-permanent henna tattoos. In Indian culture, it is used in weddings. The bride is painted in wonderful henna designs as she prepares for her wedding. However, I also got a tiny mendhi design on my hand at a jazz festival this weekend, and this, and the spoilers I've read, inspired this.
Spoilers; unseen season eight episodes, and before
NOW
He traced the delicate line of the mendhi on her hand. The fine henna tracery, dark against the paleness of her hand. The softness, enhanced by the pattern. One fingertip, stroking softly against the hairs, following the line across the back of her hand, raising goosebumps along her back. He concentrated, frowning a little, careful not to let his hand slip away, down her arm, to her cheek, to her hair, wanting only the pattern, the perfection, in this one second.
ONE MONTH EARLIER.
"Jack."
Jack looked up, surprised, and Daniel frowned, just a little. Jack looked older, tired, his face shadowed by the single lamp. He should have gone home hours ago, but there was still paperwork on his desk, and still a pen in Jack's hand. Daniel was suddenly struck by how alone he looked, so silent, there in his high office, and he hated himself for what he was about to tell him.
"What?" Jack asked, not standing, nor moving, nor even putting his pen down.
"Sam's on her way up here. She wanted to be the first to tell you...she didn't want you to here it from anybody else, but I thought you should be forewarned. Jack..."
"She's engaged to Pete." Jack said, softly, replacing the cap on the pen, and putting it down.
"You knew?" Daniel said, surprised.
"No." Jack said. "I just guessed. You've got a very expressive face, Daniel." His eyes were hidden in darkness, and Daniel couldn't see his friend's expression.
"Sorry." Daniel said, wincing. He wished his friend was as dumb as he liked to act. He wished Jack wasn't as intelligent and sensitive and honourable as Daniel knew he could be. He wished he was the stupid jackass Daniel had once thought him, then maybe this wouldn't have hurt him so much.
But then he would never have been Daniel's friend, and Daniel needed his friendship.
"She's coming here?" Jack asked. Daniel nodded, his hand on the door-jamb, tapping it slightly, beating out his frustration at not being able to save Jack, as Jack had saved him. "You'd better go. She'll be pissed if she guesses you told me first." Daniel nodded, and turned to go.
"Danny?" Jack called. Daniel turned. "Thanks.". Daniel nodded.
Jack was grateful. Grateful he had that moment to hide himself, to swallow the pain. He'd known this was coming, but still, it hurt. A kick in the stomach that sucked away all his breath, a sudden, sharp bleakness. There was nothing anymore. No Sam. No love. Nothing.
But at least Daniel had given him a moment. So when Carter came to the door, and told him she'd tell him officially tomorrow, but she wanted him to know now before he heard from anyone else, he was able to act happy. To smile, and tell her it was ok, and Pete was a good guy, and it would all be okay, and never let her know how much it tore him apart inside.
NOW
He was fascinated by the swirls. The two lines sweeping around one another, coming closer, almost touching, then springing apart again. He ran his finger round and round, waiting for the two lines to intertwine, as they inevitably must, but never did. Like him and her.
THREE WEEKS AGO
He hadn't meant to ask her out. But she was pretty and funny, very funny in fact. She was clever, something he'd always found attractive. She got his jokes. She was nice, and even he could see she was interested. (ok, she'd told Daniel, who'd told him.).
She was perfect. But she wasn't Sam. And even though Sam was engaged, and even more beyond his reach then at any time during the eight years he'd known her (and the five years he'd known he loved her), it felt disloyal to be thinking of another woman. He'd had no other woman in his mind since Laira, and even that had been on another planet, convinced he'd never get home again. Even he had couldn't have Sam in reality, he belonged to her in his head.
But Sam was engaged. And he was fine with that, really fine. Totally fine. She was happy, and that was good. And just to prove how fine he was, he should ask out another woman. Just to prove that he had a life, and he wasn't devastated by losing her...not that he had ever had her, not really. Except as a friend, and companion, and the closest bond he'd ever had with a woman, and a support, and the best second in command.
So to prove he was ok, he turned to Kerry, and asked her if she fancied a drink.
Much to his surprise, she said yes.
Spoilers; unseen season eight episodes, and before
NOW
He traced the delicate line of the mendhi on her hand. The fine henna tracery, dark against the paleness of her hand. The softness, enhanced by the pattern. One fingertip, stroking softly against the hairs, following the line across the back of her hand, raising goosebumps along her back. He concentrated, frowning a little, careful not to let his hand slip away, down her arm, to her cheek, to her hair, wanting only the pattern, the perfection, in this one second.
ONE MONTH EARLIER.
"Jack."
Jack looked up, surprised, and Daniel frowned, just a little. Jack looked older, tired, his face shadowed by the single lamp. He should have gone home hours ago, but there was still paperwork on his desk, and still a pen in Jack's hand. Daniel was suddenly struck by how alone he looked, so silent, there in his high office, and he hated himself for what he was about to tell him.
"What?" Jack asked, not standing, nor moving, nor even putting his pen down.
"Sam's on her way up here. She wanted to be the first to tell you...she didn't want you to here it from anybody else, but I thought you should be forewarned. Jack..."
"She's engaged to Pete." Jack said, softly, replacing the cap on the pen, and putting it down.
"You knew?" Daniel said, surprised.
"No." Jack said. "I just guessed. You've got a very expressive face, Daniel." His eyes were hidden in darkness, and Daniel couldn't see his friend's expression.
"Sorry." Daniel said, wincing. He wished his friend was as dumb as he liked to act. He wished Jack wasn't as intelligent and sensitive and honourable as Daniel knew he could be. He wished he was the stupid jackass Daniel had once thought him, then maybe this wouldn't have hurt him so much.
But then he would never have been Daniel's friend, and Daniel needed his friendship.
"She's coming here?" Jack asked. Daniel nodded, his hand on the door-jamb, tapping it slightly, beating out his frustration at not being able to save Jack, as Jack had saved him. "You'd better go. She'll be pissed if she guesses you told me first." Daniel nodded, and turned to go.
"Danny?" Jack called. Daniel turned. "Thanks.". Daniel nodded.
Jack was grateful. Grateful he had that moment to hide himself, to swallow the pain. He'd known this was coming, but still, it hurt. A kick in the stomach that sucked away all his breath, a sudden, sharp bleakness. There was nothing anymore. No Sam. No love. Nothing.
But at least Daniel had given him a moment. So when Carter came to the door, and told him she'd tell him officially tomorrow, but she wanted him to know now before he heard from anyone else, he was able to act happy. To smile, and tell her it was ok, and Pete was a good guy, and it would all be okay, and never let her know how much it tore him apart inside.
NOW
He was fascinated by the swirls. The two lines sweeping around one another, coming closer, almost touching, then springing apart again. He ran his finger round and round, waiting for the two lines to intertwine, as they inevitably must, but never did. Like him and her.
THREE WEEKS AGO
He hadn't meant to ask her out. But she was pretty and funny, very funny in fact. She was clever, something he'd always found attractive. She got his jokes. She was nice, and even he could see she was interested. (ok, she'd told Daniel, who'd told him.).
She was perfect. But she wasn't Sam. And even though Sam was engaged, and even more beyond his reach then at any time during the eight years he'd known her (and the five years he'd known he loved her), it felt disloyal to be thinking of another woman. He'd had no other woman in his mind since Laira, and even that had been on another planet, convinced he'd never get home again. Even he had couldn't have Sam in reality, he belonged to her in his head.
But Sam was engaged. And he was fine with that, really fine. Totally fine. She was happy, and that was good. And just to prove how fine he was, he should ask out another woman. Just to prove that he had a life, and he wasn't devastated by losing her...not that he had ever had her, not really. Except as a friend, and companion, and the closest bond he'd ever had with a woman, and a support, and the best second in command.
So to prove he was ok, he turned to Kerry, and asked her if she fancied a drink.
Much to his surprise, she said yes.