Author's Note: Longtime fan, first time posting here. A dear friend encouraged me to write several years ago, so I've accumulated a few little stories. I was pretty intimidated to put my thoughts down, much less share them. She helped me realize it's okay if our art doesn't live up to the impossible standard in our head - creativity is meant to be shared. That said, I'm always open to constructive criticism. This week she challenged me to write a Valentine's Day story. It would have been pure fluff had I not noticed that Heroes originally aired near Valentine's Day. Rude.
It didn't occur to him what day it was until he was checking out at the gas station. Jack had gone in for beer and noticed a large black tub full of mostly roses, with a few other varieties sprinkled in. It was a happy, garish display in contrast to the somber ones of late.
For most of his life, Valentine's Day hadn't held much significance. Sure, as a husband he'd dutifully brought home the requisite flowers and chocolates…well…when he was actually home to bring them. More than a few covert operations had interrupted their celebrations, but Sarah had always cared more about the holidays with big family traditions, so he'd tried to make those as best he could, especially after Charlie was born.
"Excuse me, sir?"
A small voice behind him interrupted the thoughts of his son, which was probably for the best. He turned to see a skinny teenage girl in flip flops and ripped jeans, topped with a bulky black coat more befitting of the Colorado weather. He wanted to point out the irony with his signature snark, but she seemed like a sweet kid, and the voice in his head that sounded like a combination of Carter and Daniel told him to behave. The girl smiled and pointed ahead.
"You're next."
Jack turned back and realized the line had moved while he'd been fixated on the flowers. He grimaced slightly from the twisting movement, his ribs still tender from his latest injury, though he considered himself fortunate by comparison. He schooled his features before turning back again.
"Thanks, I don't know where my head was," he said, winking at her. She smiled shyly, reminding him a little of Cassie not too long after she'd first come to them. He stared at her a little longer than necessary, memories of their makeshift family gatherings at Janet's house flooding his brain at exactly the wrong time.
Look Uncle Jack! Janet…I mean mom…made me a birthday hat!
It had been gaudy and adorable and three times as big as all the other hats. Janet had nailed being a mom perfectly. He missed her.
The girl looked down at the floor awkwardly, so he forced himself to turn around lest he come across as the creepy old guy. The cashier, whose name tag said Ed, was still putting change into the register, unbothered by the gap in the line. Jack set his beer and chips on the counter before looking at the bucket again.
"How much for the flowers?" he asked, more to give himself time to think through his actions for once than because he actually cared how much they were.
"Two dollars," Ed replied without looking up.
It was almost too insignificant to bother, but the thought of leaving without them touched a part of his grief that was still raw. Mind made up, he plucked a red rose and a pink Gerber daisy from the bucket.
Ed surveyed the contents of the counter and finally looked up at Jack, who squinted back at him, daring him to judge. Ed pursed his lips and rang up the items without comment.
"Wife and daughter?" the girl asked from behind him.
He glanced back, but tears pricked at his eyes, so he ducked his head. He didn't have the heart to say no, so he just nodded, then cleared his throat.
"I almost forgot," he whispered.
"That's okay. You remembered," she said sweetly.
Ed held out his change, but Jack reached for the bucket again and snagged another daisy.
"Keep it," he told Ed, then turned to the girl.
"Here," he said, handing her the daisy, which she took with some hesitancy.
"I'm not weird, I promise," he added awkwardly, then rolled his eyes at himself, wishing Daniel were there to handle the diplomacy.
The girl laughed. "I mean, you kinda are, but it's okay. Thank you."
He laughed in return. "Be careful getting home," he felt compelled to say. He knew there'd be a lot of buzzed people on the road.
"I will. Now go see them," she said, shooing him.
He smiled, wishing for more than just a chance encounter, but knowing he couldn't adopt every kid he met to heal his heart. He no longer wanted the beer, but he'd already paid for it, so he hoisted it off the counter and returned to his truck.
EL=½*50*0.12^2
The flowers on his passenger seat were an indictment. He could hear Janet's voice as clear as if she were sitting next to him.
"Are you gonna tell her?"
"Tell her what, Doc?"
Janet rolled her eyes. Carter and Hammond had just briefed him about the status of Adrian Conrad and left him in the infirmary to rest. Janet was insistent on preventing that, apparently. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I don't know. That you were worried about her. That you care about her. That you're glad she's okay. You suck at this."
"You suck at this, sir," he corrected, emphasizing the last word.
But she was unfazed. "I'm the sir in here."
He shrank back into his pillows, away from her scrutiny, and laid an arm over his eyes.
"Yeah, I'll just waltz up to her in the next briefing and tell her I lo…" he caught himself. What kind of drugs had she given him?
She snorted. "I don't know Colonel, maybe try flowers first, huh?" Then she patted his arm and disappeared into her lair.
He pulled into Carter's driveway and turned off the ignition. He knew Cassie had been staying with her the last few weeks, but was set to go back to the dorms soon. The team had been off world last February, but the year before that the girls had held a meeting of the "she woman man haters club," as Cassie had dubbed it. Normally, the remaining members of SG-1 would have little interest in horning in on a girls' night, but something about being intentionally excluded had had exactly the effect they'd intended. Teal'c had downright pouted.
"No men allowed," Carter declared when they gathered in her lab.
"Come on, Sam, we always include you," Daniel whined.
"It smacks of discrimination," Jack teased, knowing it would get under her skin, but before she could respond, Teal'c piped up.
"What movie are you planning to watch?"
She eyed them each in turn. "Every single one of you has had a date this year, so I don't want to hear it," she declared. And Jack could have sworn she glared at him a second longer than the others. Then she turned on her heel and walked out.
A knock on his window startled him. He was off his game. He looked out to see one Cassandra Fraiser grinning broadly at him. After so much loss, the kid was indominable. He swung open the truck door and she practically leapt into his arms. He caught her with an "Oof."
"Hey, Uncle Jack! What are you doing here?"
"I…uh…"
"Ooooh," she crooned as she craned her neck over his shoulder, "is one of those for me?"
"Maybe." he teased as he presented the flowers to her, "Which one do you want?"
"I think I'd better take this one." She took the daisy and sniffed it dramatically. "Thank you, I love the color."
As he turned to shut the door, a white Camaro with music blasting pulled up behind the driveway. Teenagers were spilling out of the windows and shouting incomprehensibly. "Cassie!" was all he could decipher.
"These belong to you, I presume?" he asked her, motioning to the gaggle of girls in the car.
"Don't be weird, Colonel," she threw at him as she approached the Camaro. He had to do a double take, her tone oozing with an amusing mixture of Janet and Carter.
"Be caref…" was all he got out before she cut him off.
"Home before 12, seat belts, just say no, and don't worry, Uncle Jack, no boys allowed tonight."
He realized he was beaten, so he waved her off. "Have a good time, kiddo." Cassie nodded and reached for the handle, then paused and turned back. Before he knew what was happening, her arms were wrapped around him again.
"Thanks for my flower," she mumbled into his jacket. She pulled back and made eye contact, looking so much like Janet regardless of genetics. "Go see her," she ordered, then turned him around and pushed him in the direction of Sam's front porch.
EL=½*50*0.12^2
He stood there for what felt like an eternity, awkwardly holding a single red rose. He alternated between thinking he should have brought more or should have just gone home. But he couldn't turn back now that Cassie had seen him. And knowing Carter was alone made it all the harder to leave her behind, so he pressed the doorbell and waited, hoping she hadn't settled in for the night.
He saw movement in the window next to the door. She spoke as the door was opening.
"Colonel?"
He was not prepared for the sight that greeted him. She was wearing black lounge pants with fuzzy socks and a long cream sweater over a tank top. Her hair fell in loose waves and her face was flushed from rushing to the door. This magical transformation never ceased to amaze him – she always looked beautiful, but at times like this when she looked so…soft…he remembered she hid more than her curves with her uniform. There was also part of her he rarely got to see.
"Are you going to come in?"
He sensed that wasn't the first thing she'd asked, so he rewound the moment in his mind. He was pretty sure "What are you doing here" had crossed her lips, but they were so accustomed to skipped pleasantries by now, she'd just stepped aside for him to enter.
"Is that for me?"
And he realized he was just standing in her foyer, holding the rose and staring at her. Idiot.
"Uh…yeah…here." He handed her the single flower, which suddenly seemed woefully inadequate.
"Thank you." She smiled that smile of hers that encompassed her entire face, and his realization of its recent absence both eased and emphasized the ache in his heart.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he added, then mentally kicked himself for how cheesy it sounded. But she'd already headed off into the kitchen with her prize, presumably in search of a vase. Hopefully a small one.
It felt weird to keep standing there, so he followed her into the kitchen, where he found her trimming the stem over the trash can. She'd snagged a thin frosted vase from somewhere, so he took it to the sink to fill it with water. They met at the island, where he set the vase as she seated the rose. Then they just stared at it. Carter spoke first.
"Did you see Cass?"
He nodded, leaned into the counter to face her.
"Yeah, just before her friends pulled up."
"They're good kids."
"That's a relief."
"Yeah."
"She okay?" He was never really sure how much of Cassie's bravado was a well-adjusted personality and how much was a coping mechanism. That could be said for everyone in their group, so he was worried they'd all raised her that way.
"As good as anyone can be, I guess. She said she needed to get out and do something normal."
"Yeah, I get that," he said absently, even though he didn't. His own grief had once involved a nuclear weapon, so maybe Cassie was well-adjusted after all. If so, it was certainly Janet's doing. He noticed Sam fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. "How are you?"
"I don't know," she answered too quickly. Then added, "And I don't know what normal is."
"Me either." He looked down at his hand still resting inches from hers on the counter, fumbled for something to say. Before he realized what his brain had settled on, he was speaking.
"Janet said I should buy you flowers."
"What? When?" she sputtered, eyes wide and wheels turning.
"After…uh…Conrad."
"Oh." She avoided eye contact then, and he suspected there were tears forming.
"I should have told you then."
That made her look up again.
"Told me what?"
He remembered then something he'd overheard her say to Daniel before he ascended, when he lay dying of radiation poisoning – I don't know why we wait to tell people how we really feel. I guess I hoped that you always knew. There had been a lot of that going around the last several years. They'd have said even less were it not for the whole Za'tarc fiasco. But Janet had known even before then.
He knew it was too dangerous to continue, so he just looked up from the vase, face unguarded for the first time in years. And he could tell by her quick intake of breath that she saw what he meant by it.
It was the wrong time to say it. But he wanted her to know. He reached across the counter and hooked a couple of her fingers with his thumb and forefinger. She wrapped her own thumb over his hand and squeezed.
"I miss her," she rasped.
"Me too." By now tears were threatening to fall from his own eyes, but he didn't care if she knew. He tugged at her hand, and she stepped into his arms. He breathed in her scent, a comfort he nearly always had beside him and felt bereft without. She squeezed and he winced, both forgetting his injury. She started to pull away, but he held her in place, and she soothed a hand over his side.
"What are we going to do?" she asked softly.
"We're gonna beat them," he promised. He was weary, but it was easier to believe his words with her in his arms. That boldness spurred him onward.
"And then we're gonna go to a little cabin in the woods that they can't take from us."
She just nodded into his chest. "Okay."
He hugged her tighter, a simple okay giving him the strength to fight a little longer.