Title: General Tradition
Author: Confushi Sushi
Email: confushi_sushi@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Tin Man (kinda)
Category: Angst? Challenge
Pairing(s): none
Season: any season
Summary: He will always remember, but sometimes he forgets. Response to Valentine challenge on OS.
Disclaimer: Not mine... No $. I'm just borrowing for a bit but I'll give 'em right back I swear.
* A look at the calendar revealed it, February 14th. He knew that already, but seeing the date in writing brought an all too familiar emptiness to his heart. A feeling that hadn't left or weakened despite the years it had been. Just sometimes it would hide. But not on days like today.
It was a pattern. He would get that hollow feeling in his chest. She wouldn't want him to hurt on her account, as she had told him on several occasions. So then he would feel shame, certain that she would be tossing in her grave. That's when the drinking would usually start, an attempt to shake the feeling. It never worked, but it was the next step and he was loath to alter the routine now.
He never forgot about her on this day. Earlier he had gone to her grave, a bouquet of marigolds, her favorite, in hand. With a tightly drawn smile he told her how he loved her and missed her and told her not to give the angels too hard a time. The woman was feisty, with a wit sharper than even Colonel O'Neill's. That thought had brought him a genuine smile, imagining Jack trying desperately to get on top in a conversation. A prospect that was entirely futile, as he knew by experience.
But now he was back home, trying not to be miserly on her account. It was not easy even though he had so many things to be happy about. When you're home, alone, thinking about a love you can no longer hold, it's hard to be happy about much of anything. Because, eventually, you're thoughts wander back to the person who is no longer there.
So, he had a drink. He was naturally a slow drinker, preferring to let the alcohol sit on his tongue and take a few moments before each sip. It wasn't like he was in a hurry, after all. The rest of the day was before him. So he sat at the small dining room table, bottle of whisky before him and a glass in his hand.
An excited knock on his door caused his head to turn towards the noise. It was a sound he was very familiar with, and it caused him to smile. Stowing away the bottle and glass, he got up and made his way to the door.
"Come on in!" he called as he entered the front room. Two flashes of purple and green jacket were on him before he could react, small arms trying to wrap around his belly.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Grandpa!" The two girls chorused.
"Why, happy Valentines Day to you too," George said as though the wind had been squeezed out of him, which actually wasn't too far from the truth. They giggled at his antics as they released him from their death grip. "I thought you guys were on a trip."
"We were, but we got back early." Kayla, the smaller one, replied. Their parents had finally caught up and were now coming through the door.
"Yeah, and we told mommy to come straight over." Her sister, Tessa, added with a pleased smile.
"You did, did you?" George replied conspiratorially.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Greg and Jessica greeted.
Jess, as she preferred to be called, came forward and hugged George, who returned the gesture. "How are things, Dad?"
"Just fine, darlin'. Everything's just fine." He responded with a big smile. It was the truth. Looking at the 3 ladies before him, he couldn't understand how he ever thought that she was gone.
There she was before him, 3 times over.
Author: Confushi Sushi
Email: confushi_sushi@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Tin Man (kinda)
Category: Angst? Challenge
Pairing(s): none
Season: any season
Summary: He will always remember, but sometimes he forgets. Response to Valentine challenge on OS.
Disclaimer: Not mine... No $. I'm just borrowing for a bit but I'll give 'em right back I swear.
* A look at the calendar revealed it, February 14th. He knew that already, but seeing the date in writing brought an all too familiar emptiness to his heart. A feeling that hadn't left or weakened despite the years it had been. Just sometimes it would hide. But not on days like today.
It was a pattern. He would get that hollow feeling in his chest. She wouldn't want him to hurt on her account, as she had told him on several occasions. So then he would feel shame, certain that she would be tossing in her grave. That's when the drinking would usually start, an attempt to shake the feeling. It never worked, but it was the next step and he was loath to alter the routine now.
He never forgot about her on this day. Earlier he had gone to her grave, a bouquet of marigolds, her favorite, in hand. With a tightly drawn smile he told her how he loved her and missed her and told her not to give the angels too hard a time. The woman was feisty, with a wit sharper than even Colonel O'Neill's. That thought had brought him a genuine smile, imagining Jack trying desperately to get on top in a conversation. A prospect that was entirely futile, as he knew by experience.
But now he was back home, trying not to be miserly on her account. It was not easy even though he had so many things to be happy about. When you're home, alone, thinking about a love you can no longer hold, it's hard to be happy about much of anything. Because, eventually, you're thoughts wander back to the person who is no longer there.
So, he had a drink. He was naturally a slow drinker, preferring to let the alcohol sit on his tongue and take a few moments before each sip. It wasn't like he was in a hurry, after all. The rest of the day was before him. So he sat at the small dining room table, bottle of whisky before him and a glass in his hand.
An excited knock on his door caused his head to turn towards the noise. It was a sound he was very familiar with, and it caused him to smile. Stowing away the bottle and glass, he got up and made his way to the door.
"Come on in!" he called as he entered the front room. Two flashes of purple and green jacket were on him before he could react, small arms trying to wrap around his belly.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Grandpa!" The two girls chorused.
"Why, happy Valentines Day to you too," George said as though the wind had been squeezed out of him, which actually wasn't too far from the truth. They giggled at his antics as they released him from their death grip. "I thought you guys were on a trip."
"We were, but we got back early." Kayla, the smaller one, replied. Their parents had finally caught up and were now coming through the door.
"Yeah, and we told mommy to come straight over." Her sister, Tessa, added with a pleased smile.
"You did, did you?" George replied conspiratorially.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Greg and Jessica greeted.
Jess, as she preferred to be called, came forward and hugged George, who returned the gesture. "How are things, Dad?"
"Just fine, darlin'. Everything's just fine." He responded with a big smile. It was the truth. Looking at the 3 ladies before him, he couldn't understand how he ever thought that she was gone.
There she was before him, 3 times over.