TITLE: Yellow Rose Of Texas
AUTHOR: Vid Z
PAIRING: H/M
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc of the TV show JAG are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fic. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: yet another fic that ended up longer than planned.
SUMMARY: I never heard the song, but I know the title fits her perfectly. She truly is my Yellow Rose of Texas.
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Panta rei.
Everything is constantly changing.
Life is in motion, changing, adjusting, re-adjusting, nothing is the same the next second.
People come into your life and leave it the next second, never to be seen again. You meet someone on the street when you go to your favorite bakery and you know you probably won't see that person again.
But you don't care, because they mean nothing to you.
The only people who mean anything are those who are in your life for longer than a brief moment and even those are a danger of breaking your heart by exiting at any given moment.
Your family is your safe bet, they'll be there always, until death do you all part. Your children are a safe bet, they won't abandon you for at least the next 18 years. No wonder why some single people rather try to have children by themselves via IVF or adoption, without involving a partner that is a danger to their emotional security by leaving them.
It's the adults, your romantic partners and your friends, the adult relationships you make, that are a danger. They are not dependent on you and if they get an inclination they can disappear out of your life never be seen again, breaking your heart.
There are two kinds of friends. The friends who stay in your life for a few years at most and the friends for life. Who stay with you... for life.
It's the same with lovers. There are many lovers who stay around only for a short while and there is only one lover who will stay with you for the rest of both your lives. Some are lucky to find that special one, but most aren't.
Looking at her sitting behind the other desk in the small office we share, tapping furiously on the keyboard, her nose scrunched up in that adorable way that at the same time overwhelms me with emotions and almost has me break out in uncontrolable laughter, the tip of her pink tongue peaking out between two full lips, and I wonder what kind of a friend she is for me.
My best friend, obviously. I never knew anyone with whom I clicked so quickly and so thoroughly. In the space of just weeks we knew everything about each other and could actually read each other's minds. It's a little scary when I think of it. In my life she's the closest person to me emotionally and I know she would do anything and everything for me and she has already done much of that, which qualifies her for the role of being a best friend. On the other hand, I would do anything and everything for her too and have already done much of it. I know I'm her best friend.
But, no, that's not what I've been wondering for months now.
What I'm wondering is if she's the kind of friend that will hang around only for a short time, before leaving me behind, the only contact being emails and occasional phone-calls, before even they tapper out. Will she fall in love with someone else, marry them, grow big with that man's children and give birth to them?
Or will she never leave and stay in my life until one of us dies of old age in the other's arms?
For the hundredth time in the last hour I pull the object out of my pocket and, staring at it, I know what I want her role in my life to be.
She's beautiful, did I mention that? And not in the classic temptress way.
She's not perfect for, nor the right one for most guys out there....
She's got a temper, is spunky and too sweet. Her breasts are not big, rather they're on the smallish side. She's tall, too tall to appeal to most guys.. Her body is toned, the kind I like, and not that unhealthy starved-out type that fashion promotes so fiercely nowadays. She doesn't exist on bird food, but still eats smart. She's too innocent to be a temptress. It's clear she doesn't have experience in head games, seduction and playing with men.
... but she's perfect for me, she's the right one for me.
I love her personality, her spunk, she engages me, keeps me on my toes and never bores me. I love how gentle she is, how warm, loving and sweet.
I love her small breasts, they're perfect for her, I can't imagine nor want any other on her. She's smart, so I know she'd never think of it, but if she did then I would be the one to make her understand that having a breast job done would be stupid. I haven't seen them bare yet, but I know they are the perfect size and shape, with perfect pink pert nipples and small areolas.
I love her slim, fit body, it speaks of a youth of a lot of physical activity, even before basic training. It speaks of endurance, stamina and the fact that she will live a long and healthy life.
I love her height, she's the perfect height for me. Whenever she wears those high heels she breaks out only for a special occasion she's so tall that I wouldn't have to bend my neck down much to take those gorgeous, sensual lips with mine.
I love her innocence, it speaks of a morally-lead life. There has never been a different man in her bed every day. I'm sure there were a lot of men interested in her, I see them leer at her whenever we're somewhere together, but I also know she didn't give them even a second of her time. She had her life planned out for her from early on and she didn't want anything preventing her from joining up, especially not a pregnancy. That doesn't mean she doesn't want children, she just didn't want them before she achieved stability in her life. I know, if she got pregnant now with the right guy, she would be happy and wouldn't think of an abortion, but would embrace that new life with both arms and never let go.
I love how she does that duck of her head whenever she's feeling shy or embarrassed.
I love how she sticks her little tongue out of her mouth and wrinkles her nose when she's concentrating.
I love how she's gentle and motherly with children.
I love how she does my paperwork, both of us knowing that, no matter how identical we are to each other in almost every thing, paperwork will always be her strength and never mine.
I love how she's not stupid and carrying the banner of militant feminism, by letting me deal with the larger male enemies when we get involved in hand combat, knowing she wouldn't be a match for their greater physical strength and mass. Basic training hand-to-hand combat lessons only help you so much and when two opponents with comparable training face each other the larger, stronger and heavier opponent will always win.
I love how she kicks the asses od female and smaller male enemies.
I love how she doesn't look down on me for my own shortcomings and weaknesses.
I love how she gives me backup and I love how she lets me be her backup, without protests. We both know that each of us on our own are vulnerable and exposed, but together, looking after each other, we are strong.
I love how possessive and jealous she is when other women show interest in me.
I love how she wants me be possessive when other men show interest in her, how she wants me to mark my territory.
I love how she signs Garth Brooks, Sarah McLachlan, Tara MacLean and Jewel in the shower.
I love how she first brushes her teeth, then goes to the toilet and then takes a shower in the morning.
I love how she eats an apple in the morning rather than drink coffee, she got me to do that as well.
I love how involved and emotionally invested she gets in a movie and a TV show.
I love how she loves to fly with me, lets me pull stunts and generally show off. I love how she supports and understands my flying and doesn't resent me for it.
I love that she prefers my Vette, even though she bought a Mustang herself, her hair flying in the wind when we put the top down.
I love the way her eyes shine warmly, affectionately at me when I do something nice for her, something she didn't expect, like bring her her favorite food back from the lunch she covered for me for.
I love the way she's smiling at me when I do something stupid, but not serious, like a wife who is angry at her husband and thinks he's a moron, but still loves him with all her heart.
I love the way she's confidant, but not arrogant.
I love the way she looks at me, the look in her eyes.
I love how she loves me.
Noticing I'm watching her she looks at me curiously, but still gives me a warm smile.
That's another thing I love about her. No matter what she's doing, no matter how preoccupied she is with something, no matter how much what I'm doing is puzzling her, she still has it in her to give me a smile.
One I can't help but return every time.
I don't think I smiled as much as I do now, before I met her.
Is it surprising then that I love her?
Pulling the ring I bought her out of my pocket I look at it again, trying to imagine what she'll say when I give it to her and ask her to marry me tonight.
Will she say 'no'? Will she say it's too soon? True, we never dated, per se, but we're together constantly and we know each other completely. We don't need to date, dating is for people who don't know each other. I know she loves me and I know marriage with her is the right thing to do, because...
...I love her, plain and simple.
I never heard the song, but I know the title fits her perfectly.
She truly is my Yellow Rose of Texas.
THE END
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