Conversations #3
A disjointed set of conversations that would've been fun/nice/endearing/helpful to see in the series…but we didn't.
Follows CANON only, generally references to conversations we never hear.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just speculatin'.
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"It's not the end of the world, Johnston," Gail said, watching as her husband brooded on the couch. They'd just gotten in from watching Gray Anderson's swearing in as mayor.
"No, Gail," he grouched, "it's worse."
"He's not a bad man. You know that. I don't like the fact that he's in charge now, either, but this is still a democracy." Gail's voice reached that certain rhythm that told Johnston if he didn't speak fast, he'd lose all chance to do so for the next hour.
"For now." He held up a hand as Gail opened her mouth to object. His tone was strident as he continued, and his volume was a bit louder than necessary. "Hear me out, Gail. He's a lot of things, and a good businessman is one of them. But there's a difference in leading during crisis and establishing company policies. Hell, you've heard the man. He's a demagogue at best, a flat-out dictator in the making at worst." Gail was silent, as Johnston paused. He continued, more quietly. "He's got Jonah Prowse in jail for something I'm not even sure he did. Hell, the man's near my age. Granted, killing Gracie didn't take a lot of strength, but it took more than Jonah has right now. And he didn't bother to investigate. Do you know he actually accused Dale Turner of doing it, just because Dale might gain from Gracie's death?"
"Maybe it's not a bad thing that Jonah's in jail," Gail objected, remembering her son's involvement with the man. "And as for Dale, well, we all know better--"
"That's just it. WE know better, Gail. Gray just acts. He doesn't think. Consider the men who answered to Jonah for so long--who's leading them now? What will they do?" Johnston swiped a hand over his face. "Hell, Jonah's got ties to this town. Those men don't. Not even Mitch."
Gail walked over and sat beside Johnston on the couch. She picked up one of his hands and held it in hers, leaning her head onto his shoulder. They didn't speak for a long time.
"Do you know what really pisses me off about the whole thing?" he asked, pressing his lips to his wife's fiery hair. "That he's managing to ride the mob, but neither he nor anyone else sees that it can't last. Nobody's thinking anymore. I know things are bad, but they've been bad before. Worse." He sighed. "Maybe it's the population growth that's changed things so much. Hell, up until the seventies, there weren't more than 1,500 people in this town at any one time, including the people passing through. It's like the addition of another three thousand people just destroyed any brain cells we had as a population back then."
"When crisis happened and the whole town turned out to lend a hand, get the families back on their feet--like that tornado that came through here in '69." Gail could understand her husband's point. "This isn't the same thing, Johnston." She shook her head and felt Johnston move his cheek against her hair to get a more comfortable spot. After forty years of moments like this, she knew it would only take a second--and there. She closed her eyes and felt his jaw move to that one spot near the crown of her head. One of her hands had drifted up to his chest. The vibrations of his voice and heartbeat buzzed against her palm. Even when he'd gone off to war, to training, all those nights alone, she couldn't imagine living without this man, feeling this heartbeat under her hand as he held her.
"It's exactly the same, only it'll last longer and we're back to frontier technology again, or close enough to it that it doesn't matter." Johnston's anger was as much at himself as the people of Jericho who knew they could depend on him. What had they been thinking? He tightened his arm around Gail, knowing that after that outburst, she'd pull away and turn to look at him. The second her arm tensed, he loosened his grip.
"The people spoke, Johnston. Now, they're stuck with him." Gail moved away a bit and turned to look at Johnston. "If you try to change that after the fact, what are you?"
"I know, I know," he grumbled, pulling her close to him again. "Nobody says I have to like it."
"No, you don't." Gail rested her head on his shoulder again, knowing that soon enough she'd have to get up and start dinner, or what could be called dinner nowadays. They spent a long, comfortable interlude together, just being.
Johnston enjoyed the feel of Gail in his arms. He always had, especially in stolen minutes like this. They both had things to do, and it wouldn't be long before she started making restless little motions, the way she always did when there was work she felt had to be done. Times like this reminded him of why he'd been so grateful Gail had chosen to stay with him all those years ago.
"Gail," he said, his voice soft. She hummed in response. "Look at me, honey," he said. She lifted her head and sat back enough to see his face. This was an unusual request from her taciturn husband. She blinked in surprise as he brought one of his hands to her face, cradling her jaw in his palm. "I know I don't say it much, haven't said it more than a dozen times in the last thirty years, but I love you--you and the boys. Even though the town's taken up a lot of my time, I never stopped loving you, thinking of my family. You know that, don't you?"
Gail felt her eyes welling up, and smiled. The concern and sincerity and warmth in his eyes was an echo of the same open expression had caught her so long ago.
"Absolutely, Johnston," she whispered, her voice hoarse with the effort not to cry. Oh, how she loved this man! "You don't have to say it. Everything you do, everything you've done, says it for you." She lifted her hand up to his bearded cheek and then ran her fingers through his hair, smoothing some of the unruly locks back into place. It had been years since his hair had been so long--since the seventies, at least. He hadn't felt the need to say he loved her since that night five years ago, when Jake left. The time before that, she'd just given birth to Jake and he'd been holding a squalling newborn. Before that, well, she didn't need to relive every time right now. Those precious moments were branded into her heart.
"I love you, too, Johnston Jacob Green." The tears were still there, but she knew they wouldn't fall. They never did when he told her he loved her.
He nodded, closed his eyes. Just so she knew. He leaned forward and kissed the only woman he'd ever love. Best part--after all they'd been through, she still kissed him back.
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