A/N: This is a Blue Heelers, Roswell cross over, but I don't really know
where to put it. The story starts with Blue Heelers, but goes to Roswell.
Prologue.
"Happy birthday, Jo." PJ said to her, passing her a small box.
With a smile she opened it, and looking at the gold ring lying against the navy lining, she felt like she couldn't breathe.
A twining ring. He'd given her a twining ring.
"I love you." He whispered, somewhere close to her neck. She could feel his breath on her skin.
Her expression changed from one of happiness, to one of pain and anguish.
Unexpectedly she dropped the box, and just stared at it as it hit the floor.
PJ bent to pick it up and hand it back to her.
As he straightened, Jo shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't do this." With those words she fled the Imperial and all of the guests who had been invited to celebrate her birthday with her.
**********
Haphazardly she packed clothing, stuffing it in suitcases, not caring it wrinkling.
As she the bags into the lounge room a photograph stared up at her.
A picture of her and PJ taken on the day they'd skipped work and driven for over three hours to get to the beach.
Dropping her purse on top of the pile she walked over and picked it up.
A tear trickled down her cheek. 'How could I have ever have thought I loved you?' She put the picture back down, resting her fingers lightly on the top of the frame for a moment.
She turned back into her bedroom and wrote a short letter.
'Sorry guys,
I don't belong here. I should have known all along, but I seem to fool myself a lot.
This is pretty short, I'm in a hurry and I'm already making myself late by writing this.
PJ, if it helps, tell yourself I loved you too much to stay, but don't dwell on me. If you really knew me,
you'd probably find I'm not worth it anyway.'
Beneath that she scribbled her signature, then folded the paper in half, and walking back into the lounge
room she slipped the paper underneath the photograph, so that the frame worked as a paper weight.
As she picked up the last of her bags, Jo took a look around the lounge room, for the last time, laying her house keys on top of the note. Then, sighing she turned and walked out the door.
Her eyes were dry as she showed her passport and checked her bags.
Finally, once she boarded the plane, buckled her seatbelt, she felt safe again, an ever stranger feeling passing over her.
Jo was shocked when she realized what the feeling meant.
She wasn't leaving home, she was going there.
Prologue.
"Happy birthday, Jo." PJ said to her, passing her a small box.
With a smile she opened it, and looking at the gold ring lying against the navy lining, she felt like she couldn't breathe.
A twining ring. He'd given her a twining ring.
"I love you." He whispered, somewhere close to her neck. She could feel his breath on her skin.
Her expression changed from one of happiness, to one of pain and anguish.
Unexpectedly she dropped the box, and just stared at it as it hit the floor.
PJ bent to pick it up and hand it back to her.
As he straightened, Jo shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't do this." With those words she fled the Imperial and all of the guests who had been invited to celebrate her birthday with her.
**********
Haphazardly she packed clothing, stuffing it in suitcases, not caring it wrinkling.
As she the bags into the lounge room a photograph stared up at her.
A picture of her and PJ taken on the day they'd skipped work and driven for over three hours to get to the beach.
Dropping her purse on top of the pile she walked over and picked it up.
A tear trickled down her cheek. 'How could I have ever have thought I loved you?' She put the picture back down, resting her fingers lightly on the top of the frame for a moment.
She turned back into her bedroom and wrote a short letter.
'Sorry guys,
I don't belong here. I should have known all along, but I seem to fool myself a lot.
This is pretty short, I'm in a hurry and I'm already making myself late by writing this.
PJ, if it helps, tell yourself I loved you too much to stay, but don't dwell on me. If you really knew me,
you'd probably find I'm not worth it anyway.'
Beneath that she scribbled her signature, then folded the paper in half, and walking back into the lounge
room she slipped the paper underneath the photograph, so that the frame worked as a paper weight.
As she picked up the last of her bags, Jo took a look around the lounge room, for the last time, laying her house keys on top of the note. Then, sighing she turned and walked out the door.
Her eyes were dry as she showed her passport and checked her bags.
Finally, once she boarded the plane, buckled her seatbelt, she felt safe again, an ever stranger feeling passing over her.
Jo was shocked when she realized what the feeling meant.
She wasn't leaving home, she was going there.
