Charismatic Colors

Author: Badgergater

Email: [email protected]

Series/Sequel: Fourth in the Colors Series (Technicolor, New Colors, Colors Revealed)

Pairing: Jack/Sara

Season: mid-season 8

Spoilers: None for any episode

Category: Humor

Warning: Worship of Handsome Jack, and accompanying shallow eye candy silliness

Rating: Jack’s an 11 on a scale of 10; oh, no wait, not that kind of rating; ah, G

Summary: Sara’s friends meet Jack at last

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate or anything related to Stargate, though I wish Jack was mine.

Author’s Note: A couple of people had suggested I write something like this, as a sequel to Technicolor, but my muse was silent until I read that fic by Charli… and somehow, this was the result… This is all the fault of Charli and Millie <G>

Dedicated to the campers who hang out at the pond (where there are indeed NoPeskyFish) and all of us who drool for Jack…

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Melissa Miles didn’t know it was going to be her lucky day.

Then, again, it wouldn’t turn out to be as lucky as it had seemed for a few dizzying minutes.

Sitting behind her desk in the reception area of the Krogfuss Lee Gallagher and Hahn Accounting firm wasn’t usually very exciting. Mostly, harried ordinary middle-aged businessmen walked through the door.

So, okay, he might have been middle-aged, what with the gray hair and all, but he was definitely not ordinary.

It was precisely 4:24 p.m. when HE walked in.

Tall.

Lean.

Broad shouldered.

Wearing an impeccably tailored long blue double-breasted coat with some little bit of silver decoration on the shoulders, which she couldn’t see exactly because she was looking up at him from her 5’4" height (even the four inch heels didn’t help). He was definitely well over 6 feet tall.

Showing beneath the coat were a pair of sharply creased trousers and shoes shined so bright she could probably see her reflection in them.

He’d been wearing some sort of unusual hat as he walked toward the front door. Honestly, she’d noticed him even before he got into the building, his long, lithe, energetic stride graceful.

Eyecatching.

Even more eyecatching, visible when he removed the hat and tucked it under his arm, was a shock of unruly gray hair. He quickly finger combed through it, ineffectively. There was an adorably boyish spiky bit sticking straight up in the air.

She wanted to run her fingers through that hair, try to tame it herself.

Okay, so she was only 24 and she’d never in her life imagined a gray-haired man could look so handsome. She usually thought of gray haired men as old and decrepit and grandfatherly. The idea of kissing one was gross.

But not this one.

He was shockingly handsome.

Exuding charm, charisma and sex appeal.

The kind of man that ought to be illegal.

He walked right up to her desk, looked at her and smiled. He smelled good, like leather and musk and healthy, sexy male. He put his hands on the desktop, and her eyes were drawn to the long, slender, crooked fingers and the incredible hands. She didn’t miss the fact that there was no wedding ring there, either.

The word swoon popped into her brain, though she doubted she could do something so graceful. Melissa was actually certain she would melt, right then and there, into a puddle of shapeless, but adoring goo.

He had the most amazing smile, and eyes, oh my god, those deep-set brown eyes were worthy of a movie star. A rich, healthy looking tan. White, perfect teeth. A nose that was just a bit too long, and a scar in his eyebrow that gave him a bit of a rakish look that very nearly stopped her heart.

Trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, she asked, "May I help you?" all the while really wanting to, right then and there in front of the whole world, offer to clean his house, cook his meals, and have his children. Just for starters.

"I’m here to see Sara O’Neill," his voice was handsome, too, matching the rest of him, masculine, strong and rich.

"She’s in a staff meeting."

"Ah," he smiled again, and she restrained the urge to fall at his feet and beg him to stay. "I’m early then."

Melissa unglued her eyes from his face long enough to take a quick glance at the clock. "Actually, the meeting is running a little late today."

"I’ll wait, then, " he offered.

Melissa had a sudden fervent hope that the meeting would go on all night, just so she could keep staring at Mr. Handsome and Sexy.

And then all coherent thought fled from her brain because he turned around, unbuttoned and removed his overcoat, shrugging it down off his shoulders. Still facing away from her, he hung it on the rack against the far wall.

From the back, she could see that his suit jacket was precisely tailored to follow his trim body lines. His legs were long, long, long. Without the concealing bulk of the overcoat, his shoulders looked straighter and even wider and his waist even narrower.

Melissa gulped, and hoped she wasn’t drooling. Afraid she’d look the complete idiot when he turned around, she scrambled out of her chair. "I’ll just go see if Sara’s available. I’ll be right back."

Sara wasn’t in.

Her office was still empty, but next to it, Cindy’s wasn’t.

Melissa dived in the door, fanning herself theatrically, knowing her face had to be bright red. She could feel her legs actually shaking.

"Missy? What’s wrong?"

"There’s a man. In the lobby…"

"What? Do we need to call the police?" Cindy asked, seeing the state Melissa was in, and taking it for alarm.

Oh, yeah, Melissa thought, the thought police maybe, because the things she was thinking were definitely immoral and quite probably illegal. "I think I’m in love."

"With the man in the lobby? You know him?"

"No."

"But…"

"But I want to marry him."

"Who?"

"The man in the lobby," she insisted.

Cindy was losing her patience, but it wasn’t at all like Melissa to get rattled like this. "Okay, calm down and start over. There’s a man in the lobby..."

Melissa nodded in agreement.

"…And he wants?"

Me, she wanted to say. "Sara. He’s here to see Sara."

"One of her accounts?"

"I don’t think so. I’ve never met him before, and believe me, I’d remember him." She was without a doubt going to remember him until the day she died.

"Who is he?"

"I didn’t ask."

"You didn’t ask? You left some guy you don’t know in the lobby, and you didn’t even get his name?"

"I was distracted."

"By?"

"Him."

"What did he do?"

"Stood there, smiling."

"What was he, naked or something?"

Melissa fanned herself again, just at the thought of THAT man naked. A single girl’s dream. Every girl’s dream. Probably make her own mother dream, even her grandmother and her old maiden Aunt Lucille.

"No."

"Okay, so who is he, Brad Pitt or something?"

"Better." Brad Pitt needed to go and hide and hope he grew up to look like this guy.

"Better than Brad Pitt?" Cindy asked incredulously. "No one’s better than Brad Pitt."

"Go look for yourself."

The lobby of Krogfuss Lee Gallagher and Hahn was at ground level. The offices were up a short flight of stairs. The front of each had floor to ceiling windows, covered by curtains. Cindy peeled back the edge of the curtain and looked down.

She could only see him from the back, someone tall and gray and wearing a suit of an unusual blue color, sitting comfortably in one of the lobby’s designer brown chairs, his long legs crossed elegantly.

"He’s just a guy, Missy."

"You should see him up close. He’s, he’s… gawd."

"Don’t drool, dear." Cindy patted the secretary on the shoulder. "I’ll go find out his name." Opening the door and stepping out, she trotted quickly down the stairs.

The man stood and turned to face her.

Tall. Slender. Broad shouldered. Gray haired. Brown, twinkling eyes, and a killer smile that lit up his whole face.

Cindy loved her husband Walt, but ever since she’d seen A River Runs Through It she’d thought Brad Pitt was the ultimate hunk. This guy, however, this guy… good grief, this guy was… was… was the handsomest thing she’d ever seen. The definition of charming, charismatic and handsome. She was going to have to revise her standards of male perfection.

"You’re?" she managed to squeak out.

"Just waiting for Sara."

"Ah, yeah." She couldn’t take her eyes off his face. "I’ll, uh, I’ll get her."

Feeling suddenly very silly and very teenager-ish, Cindy turned and fled back up the steps.

She hurried into her office, closed the door behind her, and leaned back against it. "You’re right, he’s an eleven. At least. Maybe a twelve."

"Told you," Melissa chided.

Cindy was fanning herself now.

"So what’s his name?" Melissa asked.

Uh-oh. "I, uh, didn’t ask."

"Riiiight."

Just then, they heard footsteps, and Sara O’Neill came through the back door of the office.

Melissa and Cindy stared at her, wondering how she could be so lucky to have that man here, asking for her.

Sara was mystified. Her two friends were staring at her with slightly glazed expressions. "What’s wrong?"

"Um," said Cindy.

"Him," said Melissa.

"Who?" Sara asked.

"Him!" the other two said in unison, pointing to the front lobby.

"What is wrong with you two? Who and what are you talking about?"

"There’s someone here to see you," Melissa said.

"She didn’t get his name," Cindy added.

Melissa glared at her. "Neither did you."

"Well, ah…

Melissa turned back to Sara. "We were distracted. By him."

"Who?" she asked again.

"Go look for yourself," Cindy pointed. "And if you don’t ask him out, I’ll strangle you. Or maybe Walt," at Sara’s surprised look, she added, "so I’ll be available and I can ask this guy out," she pointed toward the lobby once again.

Sara walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. Looking down she spotted the familiar figure. She started to laugh.

"What?" the other two asked in unison.

"That’s…" but she was laughing too hard to say more.

Now it was their turn to look at her as if she’d just lost her mind. "Who is it?"

"That’s Jack. He’s taking me to the Air Force Awards dinner."

"Your Jack?" Cindy asked, astonished.

"Your ex, Jack?" Melissa added, just to be sure.

"Yes. That’s him."

"He’s…" Cindy started, searching for a word worthy of him.

"Hot," Melissa finished.

"He's hot," Cindy agreed.

Sara turned to them and smiled. "And he’s mine."

Pulling open the door, she trotted down the stairs.

He turned and saw her, and rose to his feet, the smile even more amazing. Reaching out with his long arms, he wrapped her in a hug, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Ready," she smiled.

She turned to look back up the stairs then, giving a wave at the girls.

As Jack retrieved his overcoat from the rack, opening and holding the door for Sara, he turned once to look up, and saw the two women were still staring at him. "Are those two your friends?"

"Yes."

"I think they’re the strangest women I’ve ever met. They kept staring at me…"

"I think they thought you were Brad Pitt."

"Brad Pitt? I don’t look at all like Brad Pitt."

"You don’t actually. You look much better."

Jack beamed. "Flattery will get you a free dinner."

"Is that all?" she asked suggestively.

"It’s only the start to the evening."

"I hope so."

…………The End………