The wake ended at about midnight, and by that time, people had
already started to filter out of the house, saying their farewells. T was
grateful it was over. He had had just about enough of their sympathy for
one night... that on top of the fact that he was on call at nine the next
morning made it all too much to handle.
Shana was at hand to help clear up, even though she had tried once to tell T that she would do it tomorrow when he was at work at the station. He would have none of it, and had insisted he get it done now. After that, she had grabbed a garbage sack and given him a hand; the two working in almost complete silence.
The events of the night ran constantly through T's busy mind, and he tried more than once to push them down out of the way. He failed in every attempt, the faces and words of the guests sticking in his memory. Everyone's speech in memory of Bray had been touching and heartfelt, and that fact alone made it all worthwhile. At least Bray had had good friends.
The cleaning took about two hours, and when the clock chimed two, T decided it was time to retire to bed before he lost too much sleep to be useful the next day... well, later this morning.
Shana followed wordlessly up the stairs, and the two climbed under the covers together, too tired to change.
Within moments, the two were asleep in each other's arms.
* * *
The sun rose bright and early the next morning, and the songbirds did their job of waking T at the crack of dawn. Six o'clock was sometimes a cruel hour to wake at, the first rays of the sun still beaming through the crack in the curtains and assaulting the just-opened eyes. The warmth was the only welcome thing, and T sat at the edge of the bed for a while, letting it seep into him and wake him properly.
There's only one thing that'll get that done, he thought with a smile, glancing down at Shana as she slept soundly. Rising from the mattress, he grabbed his bathrobe, donned it, and headed off to take a morning shower.
It didn't take him long to wash and freshen up ready for a hard day's work at the fire station. About ten minutes, and he was out of the shower once again, his robe wrapped around him once more, and a towel around his neck.
Heading down the stairs, he heard the familiar sound of the morning paper hitting his front door.
"I'll catch him in the act one of these days," T mumbled, unlocking the door, and retrieving the paper, kicking the door closed once again with his foot.
He crossed into the kitchen, paper in his hands, flicking through the pages, humming to himself. He turned on the percolator, and set the paper down on the worktop, skimming through a news story about a shooting in the area.
Shaking his head with a sigh, T retrieved a mug from the cabinet above his head, and then turned to the fridge and fetched the milk.
"You still look tired, my love," came the voice of Shana behind him, making T jump slightly.
He looked over his shoulder silently, and smiled, closing the paper, having had enough with the depressing stories held within.
Shana came up to wrap her arms around him, and he felt her content sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"You know I can't sleep later than this," T replied quietly, and poured himself and Shana some coffee, adding milk to both, and a little sugar to hers. He turned, handing her a mug.
She held it in both hands, sipping it now and then, and moved into the living room, walking down the steps gracefully, and seating herself on one of the two couches.
T followed, tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, and propped himself on the arm to one of the chairs. He grabbed the remote, and switched on the television.
He handed it to Shana, watching as she turned from the news to an early morning cartoon.
T smiled, and kissed the top of her head. She never did like to hear about all the terrible things that the human race was resorting to today in the modern world. He supposed she would much rather immerse herself in humorous cartoons and midday soaps.
Looking at the clock on the wall, and sipping some more of his coffee, he saw it was nearing half-seven. Setting down his mug, he headed back up the stairs to dress himself.
* * *
He had arrived at the fire station at about a quarter to nine, after sitting in silence with Shana for a further half an hour after dressing in his appropriate gear, and then set off in his car.
There were already a lot of people here. Nothing unusual about that, T knew. People often stayed all night... well, they had to. T often had to himself. Fires didn't stop at night. Emergencies weren't put on hold simply because the firemen wanted to go home at night. People had to stay behind just in case. And in his books, 'just in case' happened all too often in the good old US of A.
Captain Samantha Carter was due to arrive any minute.
Good, T thought. He liked to talk with the woman, second in command around this place. The only woman, and she was further up the ranks than he was himself. The thought made him smile.
Fire Chief Jack O'Neill was already here, up in his office, working away at some pesky paperwork, and he had been up there since T had arrived. The only sign of him actually being here was his large four-by-four parked outside... that, and the fact that the light in his office was on.
The appearance of a figure at his side made him turn his head.
"Hey, Probie."
The look on the young fireman's face made T frown. He looked almost pleading.
"Sorry," he mumbled, and then rephrased his greeting, "morning, Jonas."
There was a slight smile on his face then that brightened T somewhat. Well, he had made one person happy already. That was a good start, considering it was only nine in the morning.
Jonas decided tentatively to sit beside T, a mug of coffee in his hand. He didn't speak for a while, but when he did, his tone was that of concerned curiousity, "How are you?"
T looked him in the eye, and saw genuine worry there. This guy honestly cared. He didn't even really know T, and he was eager to find out if he was okay or not.
"I'm good, thanks." T stared down at the table for a moment, before adding, "So, day of the big test. Nervous?"
Jonas smiled, and tilted his head. "Sort of." Then he laughed. "Okay, I'm lying. I'm terrified."
T grinned. "Hey, you haven't got a thing to worry about, man. I've seen your work. You're gonna make a great fireman."
Jonas' smile faded slightly, and he looked to T, and said, "Thanks."
"I hope there's enough coffee left for me, Probie," came the loud voice of a woman strolling into the open door of the fire station, her blue shirt crisp, fresh from the dryer. Her blonde hair was neat, and her blue eyes were inquisitive and filled with intelligence.
Jonas looked up immediately, and replied just as quickly, "Sure is, Captain." With that, he moved off to get her a drink.
Carter took the seat left unoccupied by the young fireman.
T discreetly rolled his eyes.
Not discreetly enough, he realised, as she asked, "What?"
He turned his gaze upon her, and said seriously, "Do you always have to call him that?"
Carter seemed a little taken aback. Clearly, his behaviour was a bit confusing to her... understandably. T himself usually laughed at her constant teasing of the probationary firemen. "Well, it's what he is. He doesn't mind."
"Are you so sure?" T queried, his arms rested casually on the tabletop.
She raised an eyebrow slightly. "What's wrong? I'm just trying to be funny. You normally laugh."
"Well," T began, trying to take the edge off his voice, "you might wanna give the poor guy a break. It's their big test today. He's nervous as hell."
"Hey, T, I was like them once," Carter informed him, leaning forward. "No one ever gave me a break. I was always the Probie."
T hadn't intended to start an argument, but it was obviously destined this morning. "It doesn't mean you have to treat them that way. Just because you were... that's no reason."
She sighed heavily, and leaned back in her chair, letting out a surprised laugh, single, quiet. She eyed him for a moment, before a mug of coffee was placed before her.
T looked up at Jonas, who waited for a second, and then moved off silently.
"See, that's exactly what I mean," T noted aloud, crossing his arms impatiently, and gesturing casually over one shoulder to where Jonas had joined the other younger firemen.
"Now what?"
"You didn't even say thank you," he muttered.
Luckily, before the discussion could continue, and become obviously more heated, Chief O'Neill landed in the chair to the other side of T, and said, "Morning, guys. Hope you're all ready for some tough work today. I've got these tests on my hands, so Carter; you're running the show. T, you're gonna float between the two. Go with whoever needs you more, okay?"
"Sure thing," T replied, glad to get off the topic that he had been debating with Carter, who now seemed a little relieved herself to have had the opportunity to leave it be. Still, she looked a little annoyed to have been challenged in her ways.
A smile crossed her face suddenly, and she said, "So, Chief, how's Sara?"
O'Neill raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?"
Carter laughed. "You know perfectly well what I mean."
"Oh! Yeah, she's doing great. Doctor says it should only be a couple of weeks at most."
"That's great," T added, smiling broadly. "Have any idea of what name you're gonna pick yet?"
O'Neill let out a deep breath, and shook his head. "Not sure. The doctors told us they think it's a boy, but you can never be too sure," he laughed. Then, after a quiet moment, he said, "But I've sorta been thinking about... Charlie."
T nodded slowly. "That's a good name."
"I'm happy for you, Chief," Carter said honestly, and patted his hand. "I can't wait to see the little guy."
"Me neither," O'Neill agreed. "I'm looking forward to playing ball with him, and taking him fishing... the sort of things my dad used to do when I was growing up, you know?"
"Might have to wait a few years though," T quipped, and laughed at the look on O'Neill's face.
Sara had found out seven months ago that she was pregnant, and it had been the best news at the station for a long time. After all his hard work and determination, O'Neill deserved some happiness, and what better way to get that than with a new child.
"Right," O'Neill breathed, rising from the table, "I think it's about time we put this guys outta their misery, whadda ya' say?"
Carter nodded, and threw a glance over her shoulder at the group of firemen at the back of the room, all looking a little nervous to say the least.
"I'll give you a hand," T offered, and followed O'Neill.
Shana was at hand to help clear up, even though she had tried once to tell T that she would do it tomorrow when he was at work at the station. He would have none of it, and had insisted he get it done now. After that, she had grabbed a garbage sack and given him a hand; the two working in almost complete silence.
The events of the night ran constantly through T's busy mind, and he tried more than once to push them down out of the way. He failed in every attempt, the faces and words of the guests sticking in his memory. Everyone's speech in memory of Bray had been touching and heartfelt, and that fact alone made it all worthwhile. At least Bray had had good friends.
The cleaning took about two hours, and when the clock chimed two, T decided it was time to retire to bed before he lost too much sleep to be useful the next day... well, later this morning.
Shana followed wordlessly up the stairs, and the two climbed under the covers together, too tired to change.
Within moments, the two were asleep in each other's arms.
* * *
The sun rose bright and early the next morning, and the songbirds did their job of waking T at the crack of dawn. Six o'clock was sometimes a cruel hour to wake at, the first rays of the sun still beaming through the crack in the curtains and assaulting the just-opened eyes. The warmth was the only welcome thing, and T sat at the edge of the bed for a while, letting it seep into him and wake him properly.
There's only one thing that'll get that done, he thought with a smile, glancing down at Shana as she slept soundly. Rising from the mattress, he grabbed his bathrobe, donned it, and headed off to take a morning shower.
It didn't take him long to wash and freshen up ready for a hard day's work at the fire station. About ten minutes, and he was out of the shower once again, his robe wrapped around him once more, and a towel around his neck.
Heading down the stairs, he heard the familiar sound of the morning paper hitting his front door.
"I'll catch him in the act one of these days," T mumbled, unlocking the door, and retrieving the paper, kicking the door closed once again with his foot.
He crossed into the kitchen, paper in his hands, flicking through the pages, humming to himself. He turned on the percolator, and set the paper down on the worktop, skimming through a news story about a shooting in the area.
Shaking his head with a sigh, T retrieved a mug from the cabinet above his head, and then turned to the fridge and fetched the milk.
"You still look tired, my love," came the voice of Shana behind him, making T jump slightly.
He looked over his shoulder silently, and smiled, closing the paper, having had enough with the depressing stories held within.
Shana came up to wrap her arms around him, and he felt her content sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"You know I can't sleep later than this," T replied quietly, and poured himself and Shana some coffee, adding milk to both, and a little sugar to hers. He turned, handing her a mug.
She held it in both hands, sipping it now and then, and moved into the living room, walking down the steps gracefully, and seating herself on one of the two couches.
T followed, tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, and propped himself on the arm to one of the chairs. He grabbed the remote, and switched on the television.
He handed it to Shana, watching as she turned from the news to an early morning cartoon.
T smiled, and kissed the top of her head. She never did like to hear about all the terrible things that the human race was resorting to today in the modern world. He supposed she would much rather immerse herself in humorous cartoons and midday soaps.
Looking at the clock on the wall, and sipping some more of his coffee, he saw it was nearing half-seven. Setting down his mug, he headed back up the stairs to dress himself.
* * *
He had arrived at the fire station at about a quarter to nine, after sitting in silence with Shana for a further half an hour after dressing in his appropriate gear, and then set off in his car.
There were already a lot of people here. Nothing unusual about that, T knew. People often stayed all night... well, they had to. T often had to himself. Fires didn't stop at night. Emergencies weren't put on hold simply because the firemen wanted to go home at night. People had to stay behind just in case. And in his books, 'just in case' happened all too often in the good old US of A.
Captain Samantha Carter was due to arrive any minute.
Good, T thought. He liked to talk with the woman, second in command around this place. The only woman, and she was further up the ranks than he was himself. The thought made him smile.
Fire Chief Jack O'Neill was already here, up in his office, working away at some pesky paperwork, and he had been up there since T had arrived. The only sign of him actually being here was his large four-by-four parked outside... that, and the fact that the light in his office was on.
The appearance of a figure at his side made him turn his head.
"Hey, Probie."
The look on the young fireman's face made T frown. He looked almost pleading.
"Sorry," he mumbled, and then rephrased his greeting, "morning, Jonas."
There was a slight smile on his face then that brightened T somewhat. Well, he had made one person happy already. That was a good start, considering it was only nine in the morning.
Jonas decided tentatively to sit beside T, a mug of coffee in his hand. He didn't speak for a while, but when he did, his tone was that of concerned curiousity, "How are you?"
T looked him in the eye, and saw genuine worry there. This guy honestly cared. He didn't even really know T, and he was eager to find out if he was okay or not.
"I'm good, thanks." T stared down at the table for a moment, before adding, "So, day of the big test. Nervous?"
Jonas smiled, and tilted his head. "Sort of." Then he laughed. "Okay, I'm lying. I'm terrified."
T grinned. "Hey, you haven't got a thing to worry about, man. I've seen your work. You're gonna make a great fireman."
Jonas' smile faded slightly, and he looked to T, and said, "Thanks."
"I hope there's enough coffee left for me, Probie," came the loud voice of a woman strolling into the open door of the fire station, her blue shirt crisp, fresh from the dryer. Her blonde hair was neat, and her blue eyes were inquisitive and filled with intelligence.
Jonas looked up immediately, and replied just as quickly, "Sure is, Captain." With that, he moved off to get her a drink.
Carter took the seat left unoccupied by the young fireman.
T discreetly rolled his eyes.
Not discreetly enough, he realised, as she asked, "What?"
He turned his gaze upon her, and said seriously, "Do you always have to call him that?"
Carter seemed a little taken aback. Clearly, his behaviour was a bit confusing to her... understandably. T himself usually laughed at her constant teasing of the probationary firemen. "Well, it's what he is. He doesn't mind."
"Are you so sure?" T queried, his arms rested casually on the tabletop.
She raised an eyebrow slightly. "What's wrong? I'm just trying to be funny. You normally laugh."
"Well," T began, trying to take the edge off his voice, "you might wanna give the poor guy a break. It's their big test today. He's nervous as hell."
"Hey, T, I was like them once," Carter informed him, leaning forward. "No one ever gave me a break. I was always the Probie."
T hadn't intended to start an argument, but it was obviously destined this morning. "It doesn't mean you have to treat them that way. Just because you were... that's no reason."
She sighed heavily, and leaned back in her chair, letting out a surprised laugh, single, quiet. She eyed him for a moment, before a mug of coffee was placed before her.
T looked up at Jonas, who waited for a second, and then moved off silently.
"See, that's exactly what I mean," T noted aloud, crossing his arms impatiently, and gesturing casually over one shoulder to where Jonas had joined the other younger firemen.
"Now what?"
"You didn't even say thank you," he muttered.
Luckily, before the discussion could continue, and become obviously more heated, Chief O'Neill landed in the chair to the other side of T, and said, "Morning, guys. Hope you're all ready for some tough work today. I've got these tests on my hands, so Carter; you're running the show. T, you're gonna float between the two. Go with whoever needs you more, okay?"
"Sure thing," T replied, glad to get off the topic that he had been debating with Carter, who now seemed a little relieved herself to have had the opportunity to leave it be. Still, she looked a little annoyed to have been challenged in her ways.
A smile crossed her face suddenly, and she said, "So, Chief, how's Sara?"
O'Neill raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?"
Carter laughed. "You know perfectly well what I mean."
"Oh! Yeah, she's doing great. Doctor says it should only be a couple of weeks at most."
"That's great," T added, smiling broadly. "Have any idea of what name you're gonna pick yet?"
O'Neill let out a deep breath, and shook his head. "Not sure. The doctors told us they think it's a boy, but you can never be too sure," he laughed. Then, after a quiet moment, he said, "But I've sorta been thinking about... Charlie."
T nodded slowly. "That's a good name."
"I'm happy for you, Chief," Carter said honestly, and patted his hand. "I can't wait to see the little guy."
"Me neither," O'Neill agreed. "I'm looking forward to playing ball with him, and taking him fishing... the sort of things my dad used to do when I was growing up, you know?"
"Might have to wait a few years though," T quipped, and laughed at the look on O'Neill's face.
Sara had found out seven months ago that she was pregnant, and it had been the best news at the station for a long time. After all his hard work and determination, O'Neill deserved some happiness, and what better way to get that than with a new child.
"Right," O'Neill breathed, rising from the table, "I think it's about time we put this guys outta their misery, whadda ya' say?"
Carter nodded, and threw a glance over her shoulder at the group of firemen at the back of the room, all looking a little nervous to say the least.
"I'll give you a hand," T offered, and followed O'Neill.