Colors Like Words
By Badgergater
E-mail: [email protected]
Season: 8
Pairing: Jack/Sara
Series/Sequel: Colors series, the Jack/Sara stories
Category: Romance, I’d guess but it isn’t really, just thoughts about a relationship that might go there.
Summary: Looking for support, and to sort out her feelings, Sara sends an e-mail to an old friend. Oh, and Father Joe makes an appearance.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Rating: Older teens
Disclaimer: Stargate doesn't belong to me; I acknowledge the power of those that do own it; Despite the time and work that goes into fanfic, no money changes hands, this is just for fun. Fic may not be posted without author's consent.
Author's Pledge: This fic, like all Badgergater fics, is accurately and honestly labeled to allow the potential reader to make an informed choice on whether or not to read it.
Author’s Note: Thanks to CB for the assist and Cokie for the beta; this one's for all of you who keep asking for more of our favorite couple. As always, all those who feedback are forever appreciated.
/----------x----------x----------x----------x----------\
"I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music."
Joan Miro
---------------------/------------\----------------------
Even after all these years, despite all the miles that separated them, Joanna was still Sara’s best friend.
If Joanna was still speaking to her.
Sara hadn’t written to her in a long time, a really long time, months at least.
Which was really unfair, since Joanna was alone in Florida while her husband was commanding an air wing somewhere in the Middle East. Her kids were grown, the youngest Jason was in college this year, Jeanne was married, and Jimmy was following in his dad’s footsteps, an officer in the Air Force.
Joanna needed all the support she could get from her best friend. After all, Sara knew what it was like to be home while the man you loved was far away, doing God only knew what, risking his life. She knew all about the worry and uncertainty, the loneliness, the coping with house and family on your own, the long anxious hours of waiting for him to return home.
She hadn’t answered Joanna’s last letter in so long that she knew the e-mail was no longer on her computer.
And yes, Sara, admit it, she admonished herself, you haven’t written because you don’t know what to say, how to tell her, how to explain what you’re doing because you’re still not sure about what you’re doing or why you’re doing it.
And you're afraid she's going to tell you you're nuts, and try to convince you to regain your sanity and drop him like a hot potato.
Determined to make amends, however, Sara turned on the computer, typing in the password, flyboy, and waited for the singsong of the handshake to connect to the internet.
Going into her mailbox, she checked, finding no new mail, then went to the address box and clicked on Joanna’s name.
The little box appeared on her screen, and she set the cursor in place, watching it blink for long minutes as she thought about what she was going to say.
Finally, she began to type.
Hi Joanna,
Sorry it’s been so long, really. How’s Dave? Are you hearing from him regularly? I know a lot of families get lots of emails. What an improvement over the old days, huh, when we had to wait weeks for a letter? Phone calls were too expensive and no one had even imagined the internet. It must help a lot, ease a lot of the worries, but I know it's still hard for you.
I’m so sorry I haven’t written, and I don't even have your last e-mail anymore, it's been so long. I do remember that you asked what I was doing these days.
Mostly, work keeps me busy.
And, well, you’re my best friend and I think I need some advice, the really good advice you always give me.
I’m seeing someone.
Someone special.
Okay, I better go back a ways, because this is a long story. To keep it as simple as I can, you remember Bill? He and I spent a lot of time together, and I enjoyed his company in a friendly way.
A few months ago he proposed.
I turned him down.
Okay, I can hear you screaming, ‘what, girlfriend, are you nuts?’ but, lonely as I’ve been, and as romantic as the proposal was, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right.
I had a long heart to heart with Cindy, from work, remember, she’s my good friend there, in fact, she’d introduced me to Bill. Cindy made me realize that the reason I wasn’t ready to accept Bill’s proposal was because of Jack.
I know, I know, you’re screaming at me again, but you know I’ve never gotten over Jack. As bad as things were between us at the end, as badly as he hurt me, I can’t forget the good times, and how good they were. I found myself comparing Bill to him, and Bill came out a very poor second.
No one can fill Jack’s shoes.
Yes, I know, I divorced him. I pushed him away. I was hurt, Joanna, you know how badly. I was a mess and so was he, and instead of helping each other, healing together, we just compounded the pain. Looking back on it now, I think I did what I did because I was hoping it would shake him up, provoke him into fighting back. I guess that, in the end, I didn’t realize how truly hopeless he felt.
How helpless he was, because I could never imagine Jack as helpless.
Instead of accepting my challenge, he let me go. I’m sure he thought it was what I wanted, and what he deserved.
Well, you know the rest of the story, so I don’t need to get into the details here.
But the truth is, though I never told anyone this, never even admitted it to myself, but I wasn’t over Jack.
He’s pretty unforgettable you know.
Cindy convinced me I had to make up my mind about Jack before I could fairly make up my mind about Bill. Knowing I needed an answer and needed to make a decision, I worked up my courage and went to Jack's house.
It’s an attractive, comfortable, masculine place that fits its owner. You’d love it. Cedar siding, lots of windows, a huge lawn, a big backyard, a deck for grilling out.
Then there’s Jack. Jo, he’s even more handsome than ever. He’s gone completely gray, and you know how some guys just look right in gray? He does. He’s still fit and those eyes-- you remember-- and those hands—and that killer smile.
You’d recognize him in a heartbeat.
I can’t believe some lucky woman didn’t snatch him up years ago.
Then he let me into the house and Joanna, I nearly burst into tears because there, on his living room wall, was that picture of the three of us, Jack, Charlie and me, the same one I have in my bedroom.
And when I turned around, the look on his face-- you know Jack, not much of a talker, but his body language says it all, and when he hugged me, I was a goner. Again.
I know, I know, I know. I can hear you screaming again.
I was a fool for loving him once, and I’m a fool for loving him now, but honest, deep down, I never stopped loving him. Maybe because I could always see that side of him so few people did, the needy guy, the romantic who bought me flowers and sent me presents, the man who made me laugh; the man who challenged me to try new things I’d never have dared on my own, like skydiving; the guy who made me feel wanted, appreciated, loved. We were the best, once.
And the sex was pretty damn good, too. Athletic, physically fit guy, you know?<G>
So, most all of my free time these days, I’m spending with him, when he has free time, which isn’t much.
Joanna, you better be sitting down for this part—really-- honest, cross my heart and hope to die, I am NOT joking when I tell you Jack was recently promoted-- he’s now Brigadier General John J. O’Neill.
Yes, really, you read that right. I’m not kidding.
A general.
And they held his promotion ceremony at the White House.
He’s commanding some space radar search thing (remember Carl Sagan and his ‘billions and billions’ saying--<LOL>), which fits him well-- you know how he always loved astronomy. Still has a telescope, on a platform up on his roof (yes, we’ve done a bit of stargazing up there recently, among other things <G>).
We play chess, go out to eat or stay in to eat, take in a movie, walk in the park (he’s had a lot of trouble with his knees the last couple of years, a couple of surgeries, but it doesn’t seem to have slowed him down much), or just watch TV.
He’s the same guy, funny, sly, sweet when he tries, but he’s different, too. Sometimes, he’s so dark, darker even than when he was in Special Ops. I’m not sure what he’s done over the years, but I know it’s been dark and ugly. Of course he won’t talk about it, wouldn’t even if he could, but I do worry about him. There’s been so much ugliness in his life, I don’t know how he’s managed to endure it all.
He’s finally come to terms with what happened to our boy. He still blames himself, and I know he always will, but I can see he’s learned to live with it, just like I have. We even went to Charlie’s grave together. He held me, and I felt so safe and loved that all my doubts about getting involved with him again just melted away. Maybe it's stupid, okay, probably it’s stupid, but he’s so overwhelming. I find myself wanting to comfort him as much as he comforts me.
Don’t laugh now, but he’s actually grown up. A little. I think.
For now, we’re just doing the dating thing, getting reacquainted.
Okay, yes, there's sex, too. Good sex. <BG>
After all, we're healthy, active adults.
And maybe I'm as needy as he is.
Is this wise? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t want to get hurt again, I don’t think I could handle it. In fact, I know I couldn’t handle it, to be hurt by him again. It would tear me apart, and I’d never heal again.
That’s why this is so risky.
I’m terrified of him, of what he can do to me, of how he overwhelms me, of how he can hurt me.
And yet, just like before, I’m drawn to him, sucked in by his charm, his laughter, his boyishness, his need for me, how good he makes me feel.
No, I haven’t forgotten the rest, the fights, the long lonely separations, his stubbornness, his maddening silences.
I know how dangerous he is, how much I risk by letting him back into my life.
But I also see how empty my life is without him, how pale and colorless without him there. He’s bright yellow in a world of gray. He’s red in a world of tan and brown. He’s the light in the darkness. (Oh, God, that was sooo giggly teenage girl crush, wasn't it?)
You know how much I loved him, and how much he hurt me.
No matter how hard I try to resist, he still draws me to him. He’s an irresistible force, like gravity.
You know, Jo, I think I should have written this letter to you weeks ago, because for the first time, I've really just sat down to think about Jack and me. Writing down the words has helped me work through how I'm feeling.
Hugs,
SaraO
/---------------\
There was an answer in her inbox the next morning:
Dear Sara,
Girl friend, what am I gonna do with you?
Now that I've picked myself up off the floor at hearing from you at last (it had been so long I was about to send out a search party)—
And picked myself up off the floor a second time after reading that Jack is a general (we are talking about the same guy, right? Your ex Jack? Mr. Gorgeous but Impatient, Unorthodox, Do Things His Own Way, Defiant of Authority, To Hell with the Rules, Sarcastic Jack?)
And picked myself up off the floor a third time to hear you and he are seeing each other again--
Okay, since I know you've lived alone for the past eight years, I'm gonna remind you about a few facts of life with men, just in case, in your love befogged brain, you've forgotten (I know you're thinking of all the good things, that's the way the human brain works, we remember the good and ignore the ugly), but here's a few items for the reality check, girlfriend:
dirty socks, dirty underwear, dirty sweaty-smelly t-shirts (and you get to wash them all),
empty beer bottles in the living room,
hogging the remote,
snoring,
morning breath, body odor, flatulence and burping (his, and worrying about your own),
whiskers in the sink,
leaving the toilet seat up.
And that's just for starters.
Now, I'm just going to tell you this, girl friend: If you love him, don't let him get away.
Don't wait for him to pop the question, because, knowing him, he probably never will. If it's what you want, and from that letter, I think you do, you ask him.
Just promise to invite me to the wedding, huh?
Joanna
/------------------------\/------------------------\/------------------------\
It was late in the evening. The SGC was quiet, or as quiet as it ever was. The day shift had all gone home. Brigadier General Jack O'Neill stood in the briefing room, sipping a cup of coffee, looking down into the dimly lit quiet of the gateroom. With a sigh, he finished the coffee and walked back to his office. Sliding in behind the desk, he tapped the computer touch pad and the screen sprang to life. The email in front of him was over a week old, and he hadn't sent a reply. Vowing to go home when this one last job was finished, Jack began to type.
Hey Joe,
I read your e-mail last week, but today's the first chance I've had to answer it. Being a general keeps me on my toes, well, on my butt, actually.
Honestly, being a general, it's not as much fun as it sounds. Sure, I get to tell people what to do, but I don't get to do things, fun things, like travel to far off places, way far off places. You know what I mean. The worst part, though, is the lack of adrenaline rush-- sure, there's a lot of pressure, a lot of decisions to be made, but there's not much fun to be had.
And you know me, fun is important.
Heck, I don't even have time to watch hockey anymore, which is probably a good thing since the NHL is still on strike.
But I digress.
So what have I been doing with my limited free time?
Well, ah, I've been seeing someone.
Someone special.
Very special.
Someone you know, actually.
And no, it's not Mrs. Floozy HairDo, Happy to be Divorced, Swinging Single from across the street. Though I think she'd like it to be.
Okay, so you're sitting down, right?
You took your blood pressure medicine this morning, right?
It's Sara.
Yes, *that* Sara.
Okay, stop telling me 'I told you so.' I know you told me not to sign those divorce papers, and it wasn't just because you're a priest. I remember you telling me what a fool I was to let her get away. And yes, I closed my ears and ignored every word you said. (so what's new?)
All right, I'll admit it. You were right. I was wrong.
So I'm trying to fix it.
If it can be fixed.
We've been dating and, doing the, you know-- Yes, Yes, I know it's a sin, but considering the monumental list of those that I've already accumulated, I figure a few more won't matter.
Anyway, I think Sara's feeling the same way I'm feeling. I mean, she keeps accepting my dinner invitations, and she even went up to the cabin with me one weekend. I'm not so sure what it is she sees in me, a scarred old warrior. She's still hot, sexy and gorgeous, oops, maybe I shouldn't be talking about that to you. But it's the truth. I can't believe some guy didn't latch onto her before the ink was dry on our divorce papers. But then, who ever said guys were smart?
To be serious for a moment here, brother, I'm not sure she'll take me back. I know how badly I hurt her, how wrong I was, how unforgivable my actions were. But I've got to try, because we were the greatest, and no one compares to her. The past eight years have taught me that.
Besides, who else could put up with me? I know I'm not easy to live with, never was and never will be. And then there's my job, the long hours, the risks—
Anyway, that's what's new.
Gotta go.
More soon.
Jack
/-------------\
There was an answer in his inbox the next morning:
Jack,
"And the Lord God said, It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him." Genesis Ch. II, v. 18
Love is a gift from God, and not to be wasted.
And you're not as bad as you think, well, mostly not. On your good days. When you try.
However, if you don't get your act together and ask her to marry you, brother, I will kick your butt.
Joe
/-------------\
Little brother,
Butt kicking is very unpriestly. (okay, that's probably not a word, but you get my drift). Besides, you never could kick my butt, even when we were kids.
Jack
/-------------\
Big brother,
Ah, but I'm *younger* than you are, Jack. The advantage is now mine.
So, I'm volunteering my services to conduct the services <hint, hint>.
Have I ever mentioned that I love weddings?
Joe
/-------------\/-------------\/-------------\/-------------\
The End
For Now----