Flowers in the Rain by Venom

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Story Notes: Spoilers: The Devil you know and Jolinar's memories, Meridian.

Season/sequel: None, but Daniel is dead.

Author's notes: This was written very quickly, please take that into consideration. This is a response to the 2003 Flowers challenge posted on By request. Feedback is loved.

Dedication: As always, for LEW. For Divine Joker, for the beta and the..uh, we'll just say encouragement, shall we? *g* And for the other half of my 'mutual adoration society'

I hate flying commercial.

There is a toddler on one side of me and she looks about ready to vomit the next time the plane hits any turbulence. There is another young child behind me that is continuously kicking the back of my chair. There's an old woman sitting on the other side of me, and she's determined to give me her life's story and set me up with her son.

"Where was I? Oh yes, my sweet young Robbie. He'd be about your age." a purposeful pause followed with the inevitable: "Are you married, dear?"

Taking a sip of my soda, which is flat, I sigh. "No, ma'am, I'm not married."

"Well, I'm going to California to see him, perhaps you should come and meet him? Yes, you two would get along famously. Tell me dear, what do you do for a living? Could you give up your job to be a mother?"

Next she's going to have me barefoot and pregnant to this guy. I can see an empty seat about three rows up. I rise, grabbing my hand luggage and turn back to the woman. Some unknown devil takes a hold of my voice and makes me say something I would never say out loud.

"I'm in the Air Force, ma'am and I kill people for a living. Have a nice day."

Ignoring her shocked gasp, I walk towards the empty seat and sit down, relieved to be away from her annoying chatter.

I hear the click of the PA system coming to life. "Attention Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We will be landing in San Diego in just a few moments. If you would please put your fold up your trays and put your chairs in the upright position, we will make this landing as smooth as possible. We'd like to thank you for flying with us, and hope you had a pleasant flight."

Closing my eyes as we begin out descent, I sigh.

***

Getting a rental car is always hell, and this time is no different. I don't know why I didn't book it before I came. I'm driving to see her, hoping to have some time alone before Dad and Mark get there.

Dad was supposed to be coming through the 'Gate earlier this morning so that he could catch the plane with me, but something came up. He sent a message through, saying that he was going to be late. He told me to go ahead and catch the flight, and that he'd get the next one.

Assuming that everything goes to plan, then he should be here in a few hours. Mark should arrive about the same time as dad, so at least I'll have some time alone with her.

The pristine grounds are quiet, and I can smell the scent of freshly cut grass, mixed with the rain that fell this morning. There's still a small drizzle coming down, and I can feel it fluttering on my face as I step out of the car.

I walk through the rows of occupants. I haven't been here in several years, there always seems to be an emergency around this time of year: saving the world, dying, coming back to life, friends ascending, the usual.

The air is cool, and I shrug on my leather jacket. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'm not sure where she is. It's been so long.

"Dear?" The voice is familiar, and I cringe as I stop walking.

God...not her again. Please, not her. I turn around slowly, hoping that I'm hallucinating, dreaming, whatever. "Ma'am?"

"Dear, what are you doing here?" She asks, walking up to me. Her movements are a little stiff and I feel a little guilty for my dismissive comment on the flight.

"I'm visiting my Mom." I reply quietly.

The woman lays a sympathetic hand on my arm. "You poor dear."

We being to slowly walk together, along the rows and rows of people buried in West Lawn Cemetery. "What about you?" I ask, reluctant to start a conversation with her.

"My husband is buried here."

"I'm sorry."

She smiles sadly. "You didn't cause the accident. It was twenty years ago, but I still like to come and see him every now and then."

"What happened?"

"He was working as a cab driver, a hard life that is. He was in an accident. A truck slammed into his car and he was killed on impact, as was his passenger. Poor young woman. "

I listen as she goes into more detail about the accident, a knot forming in my stomach as she speaks. This story is familiar, too familiar. As she draws her tale to a close, I know that my suspicions are confirmed. "My mom was your husbands passenger." I tell her, watching her eyes go wide.

"You mean my Frankie...?"

I smiled slightly. "I never blamed him."

"Oh you poor dear. How old were you?"

"I was almost 15."

"Well, you've grown up into a lovely woman, your mother would be proud." I can feel tears prick at my eyes at her comment. Regardless of how little she knows of me, I can't help but feel a surge of gratitude at her statement.

"Thank you."

We continue to walk in silence, passing by the headstones of people's lost loved one's. It several minutes later before I begin to speak. "When the accident happened, I was told that your husband maneuvered his car so that he took the full force of the impact."

"Yes, the police officer told me that too."

I look ahead as I speak. "He was a very brave man, ma'am and you should be pro.." My feet stop moving, my breath catches audibly and I'm not sure if my heart is still beating.

He's here.

"Dear? What's wrong?" She asks, following my gaze until her eyes rest on the man standing a few feet away from me. "Do you know this man?"

I nod blindly, not trusting my voice. What is he doing here? How did he know where to come? Where's Dad? What is he doing here?

The old woman gives me what I can only describe as a knowing smile. "Now I understand why you weren't interested in my Robbie."

I'm tempted to ask her to elaborate, but I can't seem to find my voice. I watch as he walks towards us, carrying two bunches of flowers. He's smiling broadly, though I can tell that there is a respectful sadness to his look. I think he likes shocking me, rendering me speechless. After all, it doesn't happen much.

"Carter."

"S.sir." I stammer, blushing slightly.

"I brought you these," He tells me, holding out one of the bunches. They're lillies, my favorite. He looks a little embarrassed and I can't help but grin.

"Thank you. They're beautiful."

"Dear? Is this your husband?"

I smile at the faint flush that creeps across my commanding officer's face, followed closely by a very charming grin. "No, ma'am. I'm not married." I remind her.

"Your fiancé then?"

"No."

She winks at me, actually winks. "Ah, I understand. Well I'll leave you to it. It was lovely to meet you, dear, and I'm sorry for your loss." I watch her retreating form as she goes to sit by one of the headstones.

"Who was that?"

Turning my attention back to the Colonel, we begin to walk back towards what I think, from memory, is my mother's grave. "That was a lady that I met on the plane. She was married to the cab driver that was taking my mom home when she died."

"Sam......I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." I smile, hoping to reassure him. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, sir, but why are you here?"

"Your Dad sent a message through the Gate, he can't make it." He pauses for a moment and watches for my reaction. "I'm sorry Sam, I know that you wanted him to be here."

It's not the first time that he's broken a promise to me, and I doubt it will be the last. I think I'm getting used to it. "I understand."

"But, hey, I brought your mom some flowers." As he gestures to the headstones we're passing with the remaining bouquet, I can't help but giggle a little. He leans closer to me to whisper in my ear. "Gotta make a good impression."

"Naturally."

We come to stop in front of my mother's headstone. It's strange I haven't been here in years, yet I feel like a part of me never left. Bending down to rest on my haunches, I hear the Colonel groan as he does the same. "Knees?" I ask quietly.

"Killing me." He admits and I know he must really be in pain to say anything.

I nod and turn to face the headstone. "Mom, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill. He's my Commanding Officer. Remember last time I was here? I told you that I was going to meet the man that had taken my command?" I hear him snort, but other than that, he stays respectfully silent. "I've been working with him for almost seven years now, but I told you a little about him when Daniel died."

"None of what she's said is true, ma'am. I assure you that I'm a nice guy." He tells her. "And to prove it, I've brought you some flowers." I smile as I watch him fill the small hole just in front of the monument with his flowers. Mom loved yellow. I wonder how he knew.

"I hope she's proud of me." I whisper, as I reach forward and run my chilled fingers over the rough edge of the worn headstone.

The Colonel lays a hand on my shoulder and I turn to look at him. "I can't answer for your mom, Sam, but I can tell you that I'm proud of you."

I smile, tears filling my eyes. "Thank you." He pulls me into an off- balance hug and we fall to the ground, laughing.

I lay my head on his shoulder, and his arms snake around me, with my flowers resting on my lap. "Tell me what was she like?"

I pause for a moment, wondering how I could summarize my mother to this man. I smile a little and go for the simple answer.

"Amazing."

"You take after your mother then, I see."

Blushing a little, I search for the right words. I begin to speak, telling my Commanding officer everything that I can remember about her as he listens, his arms securely around me.

And even as it begins to rain, we continue to sit there, arms around each other as I tell him all about a woman that he'll never meet, and a mother that I wish was still here to meet the man of my dreams.

***

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