Title: Wasn't it good.
By Jaye Reid.
Written: 18.11.2000
Rating: PG
Spoilers: no direct ones I can think of.
Category: V, Shipper.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Don't have money, not worth suing!
Summary: "...and in all of our tomorrows, we'll have yesterday..." (Arena/Field/Parde - 'Wasn't it good')
Authors notes: Listening to my Tina Arena 'Don't Ask' CD today, and I always thought this song would inspire a fic. The song and the fic carry the same title. Song was written by Arena/Field/Parde.
Bridget, thanks for your insightful comments on this one... I think! g
~*~*~*~
I walk slowly and steadily.
The path I take is one I know well now.
Three rows along from the drive, one... two... three... four... fifth plot. The flowers I brought last time have long since withered and died. Someone has removed them. I've brought fresh ones.
I don't come here often. Not as often as I know other widows would perhaps visit their departed love ones. But he is not here.
Not his spirit.
He is with me everyday. Everywhere I am. I feel him beside me and I know he will keep me safe until it is time for me to join him. He wont let me leave this world until it is truly my time.
I sit down on the grass, leaning across and placing the flowers in the holder. I run my fingers across his name and smile. My one and only true love.
"Grandma Sarah?"
I smile up at my adoring grandson, who breaks me from the spell I am under. He likes to come with me when I visit. His face breaks into the smile that melts hearts. He has his fathers eyes... and his grandfathers.
I understand why the women he works with swoon.
I shake my head and chuckle. When I met his current 'friend' she had joked with him about 'dress whites and gold wings being over-rated'. He had given me a knowing grin and said the statement should have been patented. He could have made a fortune!
"Are you okay Grandma?" he asks.
He towers over me. His young eyes looking down into my old tired ones. It *is* getting harder to keep going. Not much longer my love, I think to myself.
"Could you get me some water from the tap for the flowers?" I inquire.
He nods and walks back towards the car to fetch a container.
I watch him go. He's always been such a sweet boy. I worry about him, but he is strong and intelligent. I know he will be fine when I am gone. But it is a grandmothers prerogative to worry. I learnt that a very long time ago.
Again I run my fingers across the letters carved in stone. "How much longer before we will be together again?" I ask softly.
Really, I'm surprised I have made it through so many years since he left me. I thought I would die from a broken heart the day he died.
"Here you are Grandma."
He's back with the water. I have been lost in my thoughts again.
"Thank you," I say with a smile.
He is giving me that worried look again.
"I might be old, but I'm not dead *just* yet. I want great grandchildren to spoil first," I state firmly. But I have this feeling time is not going to be on my side. Not that I will ever tell him that.
"Grandma..."
"Don't *Grandma* me... I know how it works, I know all too well..."
"Then you should understand," he replied.
Yes I understand. And he knows just how much I *do* understand.
But I tell him. "All I understand is that you shouldn't waste what time you have. Trust me on this one, please."
He sits down beside me. "I know," he says thoughtfully.
"Do you love her?" I ask. I've always been one to come straight to the point.
He smiles. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I do."
Good I think to myself, one down...
"And what about her? Does she love you?" I continue. This whole charade has to end. And soon. I don't care if I am accused of meddling. I don't want to think about where I would be if it wasn't for meddling from friends and family.
"Not that I have ever asked her... but yeah, I think she does."
"Okay then," I smile. The poor boy, I can see he is torn between his head and his heart. "Tell her... tell her before it's too late."
"But Grandma Sarah... Kim, she's my RIO, if I do this... it will change everything."
"Samuel... don't leave it until it's too late." I put my hand on one of his broad shoulders. "If your Grandpa Harm was still here, he would whip your six for being as damn obstinate as he and I were!"
Samuel smiles. "He would have me up on charges!"
"Yes he would," I laugh. "And I don't know if even *I* would have defended you! Now, come on, time to take me home."
"Do you need a hand?" he asks as I struggle to my feet.
"No I don't," I return abruptly, waving his outstretched hand away.
"Stubborn marines," He mutters. He heard his grandfather say it to me many times over the years. I pretend not to hear.
"Damn flyboys who think they can save the world," I mutter back - just loud enough.
He gives me that smile.
His grandfathers smile.
The end