STATUS: Complete

RATING: PG-13

CATEGORY: Daniel&Janet

SPOILERS: None

SEASON/SEQUEL: Roughly, Season 4/5...2001, anyway. I'm assuming in this, since the discovery of Sam's birthday (1965) in 'Entity', that Janet was born around relatively the same time, give or....so she's *about* 36.

SUMMARY: After a long day, Janet is left alone with her thoughts of the past...

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: *g*: Right...I'm pretty sure this makes me caught up now,Bryn ;) My first fic since 'The Prophet' hoisted its flag and declared its independence :) Because the next month or so is gonna be vastly taken up by imminent Higher exams (stupid SQA) I've decided not to start another series yet (plus I don't have series-potential ideas at the mo ;)) Fics may also come fewer and further between until some time in June ;) So, instead of the battalion of a series, I'll be sending poor little stand-alone-fic soldiers out onto the battlefield to face the might of the Stranded army. *Fixes green, Jack-O'Neill style cap firmly on head* This war ain't over yet, boys....*marches off whistling #Pack up your Troubles#....*

Feedback: Don't make me come up there...



Janet sighed as she sank gratefully onto the welcoming cushions of her sofa. She wrapped her hands tightly around her rapidly cooling coffee-mug, thankful for the warmth it spread, and stretched tired muscles, curling up in the corner and letting her head fall to rest against the arm sleepily. For a few moments she sat, unmoving, allowing herself to finally relax, before she forced her heavy eyelids grudgingly open and took a sip from her mug.

She sighed again, letting her lips curl into a soft smile as the liquid warmed her briefly. Her eyes traveled to the open fireplace before her, in which tall flames danced, casting eerie, flickering shadows across the darkened room; the only source of light besides the dim glow from the table lamp, and the faint, silvery moonlight creeping through the curtains from the night sky outside.

For a while she gazed at them, lost in thought. Her day had been long, hard... the number of injured personnel trooping through the Stargate early in search of her assistance had almost led her to believe the universe was carrying out some sort of personal vendetta against the SGC forces, or maybe just her in particular. Daniel Jackson was, of course, spending the night in the infirmary with a strapped-up ankle, after a particularly bad fall while out with SG-1. After four years, that man's medical file took up a whole drawer of her filing cabinet to itself. She smiled to herself. Not that she *minded*. He was always good company - genuinely abashed at the amount of time he spent in her care - and had no qualms in chattering to her while she bandaged him up, as opposed to the usual quick grunt of thanks she got from most soldiers. And today...

Janet shook her head, as though trying to dislodge her thoughts. She drew her eyes away from the flames, glancing instead into her empty cup. She barely remembered draining it as she got up reluctantly to re-fill it. Returning from the dark kitchen, she moved over to a drawer in her cabinet, pausing hesitantly before grasping the handle firmly and rifling through the contents. She found what she was searching for at the bottom, hidden away under a pile of old papers and various odds and ends, as though throwing a cover over it would make it disappear forever.

Hands trembling almost imperceptibly, she withdrew an old photograph: slightly faded, and crinkled around the edges where it had been torn from its album and forced out of sight. Walking back to the sofa, she drew herself into its open arms once again, then allowed herself to finally study the picture for the first time in years.

There, in the middle, she stood, grinning happily - innocently - at the camera. She was barley into her twenties then, excited at her medical studies, ready for facing the world. Janet spared her younger self an older, wiser smile, before letting her attention fall on the man who stood beside her.

Tall, broad shouldered and dark haired, he towered almost a head above her, trying to smile for the photographer, but looking distinctly uncomfortable in his 'monkey suit' all the same. His eyes bored into her as she watched him, and she noticed again in them a grim determination that she had seen so many times after that day. He stared intently at her from the photograph, from 13 years past, gazing at her through the years gone by. Even now, even after everything she'd gone through as a result of this man... she could still remember why she had fallen for him.

He had been a strong, passionate man, always striving to achieve his goals. His intensity had attracted her to him immediately, as though she could absorb some of that feeling, some of that determination. Perhaps she had. Perhaps it had been he who had influenced her to fight so hard to gain her current position at the SGC, to adopt her daughter and take on life as a single parent, to prove that she was just as capable as he'd ever been, that he hadn't destroyed her. She had been flattered, when he'd asked her on their first date... it wasn't as if he had a shortage of female admirers: his chiseled features and soft southern accent had an immediate effect on any woman, an irresistible pull. And, back then, she'd never been very confident; she was always the shy one, always small enough to be overlooked and with no desire to bring herself to the fore. So different from the way she was now; her confident, outgoing nature, her...brazenness.

When he'd asked her to marry him, she had been ecstatic. Her life had suddenly become perfect. She was young, with a promising career and a handsome, successful husband. And, for a while, it was perfect. He had still kept that fiery determination, that desire to have the world his way. She had been all too happy to go along with him on his chosen path, encourage him. There had been a few minor arguments, but nothing serious, nothing threatening to her marriage - so she had ignored any problems, compromised, carried on until she gained her medical degree, became a doctor. Until she decided that she wanted more than some little practise somewhere, or a job in a local hospital. Until she had announced that she wanted to enlist in the Air Force.

The memory of the ensuing argument still burned white-hot in her mind when she thought of it. At first he had just been incredulous, and patronising. She remembered repeating his words once, to Sam:

"Are you out of your mind, honeybun? There is a reason they call it 'This Man's Army'."

She gave a bitter laugh. Even after trying patiently to explain that it was the *Air Force* she wanted to join, trying to explain the difference, he wouldn't listen. He had refused to hear her out, and told her, more or less, that her forbade her to go. There had been shouting, screaming, tears. She hadn't listened, of course, and had gone for the interview anyway, and he had been furious. Janet shuddered, holding her coffee cup more tightly in her cold hands. It was the first time she realised that he was so controlling� that everything would have to be his way, or not at all. The first time she realised that she was expected to be the obedient little wife. Maybe that's what he had seen in her: the quiet one, easy to intimidate, easy to control. She felt a shudder of anger, her stomach twisting as her hands shook.

She had been filled with a burning desire to prove him wrong. She had gotten into the military, completed her training, became an Air Force medical officer. For a while he'd seemed to accept it. He was still angry, she knew... but outwardly he was perfectly cool, treating her job as if it was a hobby, some fad she'd eventually get over. Things were strained, though. She realised that now. Back then, she'd been too... naive, too full of hope that everything would turn out all right in the end, too willing to make the effort to stop their marriage collapsing on her own. It was inevitable that it would all go wrong, Janet thought, and, 6 years into their marriage, the final straw broke.

She had come home early from the air base she was stationed at, after a quiet duty shift. Closing the door silently behind her, she had been about to call out to him when she heard the voices coming from upstairs. One her husband's, the other female. Janet sighed ruefully. No... never short of female admirers. That time, though... that time she hadn't been willing to stand back and take whatever he delivered, to shrink back and be the small, quiet Janet he expected. The divorce had gone through relatively quickly, despite his pleas for forgiveness, his apologies and his best efforts to stop her. He had told her - on the day the divorce was finalised - that she was nothing, that she could be nothing without him, that she would live to regret her actions. She hadn't answered him, merely walked away, his shouts ringing in her ears. She hadn't seen him or heard from him since, and she doubted she ever would. Besides, she had nothing to say to him - everything she wanted to tell him had been said years ago.

Tearing her gaze away from the photograph, Janet tilted her head to rest against the back of the couch to stop the escape of threatening tears. Even after all these years, the memory was still painfully fresh. She hadn't wanted it to end up like that, she really had tried. But when it had all gone sour, she had put it behind her, built a new life, focused on her career and risen through the ranks of the Air Force. She had become more forceful, more brassy, more outspoken. Sometimes, though, on nights like these, with only the twisting firelight for company... sometimes she could hear the echoes of the old Janet, painfully shy, small and quiet; never completely gone, but hidden away, as though - like the old photograph she held in her hands now - tucking the past away would make her forget.

Janet shook her head, suddenly. It was too late for this; glancing at the clock she realised the hours had slipped by till morning without her even realising. She pushed herself up from the couch, setting her empty coffee mug down on the table and extinguishing the lamp. Cast in deeper, fathomless shadows, she moved across the room to the last writhing embers of the fire, pausing before the hearth. She raised the photograph still clutched in her hand, and regarded it one last time.

Today, Daniel had come into the infirmary, supported by Jack and Teal'c, in a great deal of pain from his fall. She had strapped his injury, patched him up as usual, and turned to leave, when his hand had caught her wrist, and those piercing blue eyes had gazed sincerely at her...

"Thank you."

"Hey, no problem."

"No... really. Listen, I was wondering..."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing Saturday night?"

Janet smiled softly, her face bathed in the rosy glow of the dying fire. Very slowly, she let the picture flutter from her fingers, watching it drift gently downward, before it was caught by the grasping flames. She watched it blaze for a few moments, the edges blackening, then curling in on themselves. She saw it erase the figures standing there, singeing wide holes into the scene, then crumbling into the fire's eager grip - its long fingers reducing the photo effortlessly to nothing. She turned away from the satisfied hearth, walking towards the doorway, and, without a backward glance, left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Alone in the empty living room, the fire glowed softly for a few seconds, before sending up a few, bright sparks, then settled back down to cast a dim glow over the smouldering coals, and the few remaining ashes of a memory.

~Fin~

Copyright (c) May 2001 Nike A. Johnston



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