Wordsworth Says… 02
Character of The Happy Warrior
~~~~~~~~~~~~//\~~~~~~~~~~~
Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
That every man in arms should wish to be?
It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought
Among the tasks of real like, hath wrought
Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought:
~~ The Character of The Happy Warrior, William Wordsworth (1805)
****
She was watching the clock.
He hated it when she did that. It meant that she was bored and that she wouldn't be staying around the briefing room after the meeting was over. His eyes drifted to the pad of paper that she had leaning off of the edge of the table into her lap and could see the tip of her pen moving in jerky movements; not the movements of writing, but that of doodling.
That was the nail in the coffin.
She really was bored.
Carter never doodled.
Drew, yes. Doodled? Never.
Jack sighed and was suddenly alerted to look to the General by the silence that had fallen into the room. Hammond was looking at him expectantly.
"Colonel?"
Shit.
"Uh…"
"Tomorrow at 1430, sir?" Wait… that voice was a little too feminine to belong to the General.
Jack's head snapped to the side and he cast a grateful glance to his 2IC. "Of course!" He said a little hastily, immediately regretting his flustered actions at the look of confusion that made it way onto General Hammond's face. "1430, sir." He nodded, much more in control of his faculties.
The General gave a curt nod and pushed back from the table. The formality of telling them that they were dismissed was lax and he left the table, heading into his office and closing the door.
Teal'c and Daniel slowly rose and gathered their folders, though Jack wasn't entirely too certain as to what it was that Teal'c did with his. Daniel grunted something non-committal as he headed for the spiral stairs leading up, heading for his lab.
Jack found himself alone.
His head cocked to the side as he wondered when he had missed Carter's exit. Considering that he had been watching her for the greater chunk of the meeting, that he suddenly missed her leaving felt a little out of place. Stuffing his hands in his pocket, Jack headed down to the control room, thinking maybe she had disappeared there.
No such luck.
Thoughts of the kiss earlier in the afternoon had been leaping through his mind since they had all sat down for their bi-weekly team meeting with Hammond. Residual feeling tingled across his lower lip and he had to stop himself from touching his mouth. Quickly he made his way for the back exit, inwardly chastising himself for his sentimental excursions.
Subconsciously he knew that Carter was feeling a little… embarrassed about what she had done, but consciously he knew that he had to talk to her about it. And he needed to think of an ingenious way of putting her at ease before he brought the topic up or she would bolt like a skittish horse.
First of all, he knew that his invitation for beer that evening would have to include Daniel and Teal'c, and maybe even Janet.
Second of all… he knew that he was going to have to corner and getting her to talk about this would be close to pulling teeth.
He growled internally as he walked the grey halls of the complex towards Daniel's office.
Jack knew without a doubt that this was coming out of the room sooner rather than later.
He, for one, was more than happy to speed up the process.
~~~~~~~~//\~~~~~~~~~~~
By objects, which might force the soul to abate
Her feeling, rendered more compassionate;
Is placable – because occasions arise
So often that demand such sacrifice;
More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure
As tempted more; more able to endure,
As more exposed to suffering and distress;
Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.
~~Character of The Happy Warrior, William Wordsworth (1805)
****
Daniel was talking animatedly with Carter as she sat sipping her second pint. The shot glasses from her previous endeavours with tequila rested on the end of the table and he could see the faint colour of tipsiness fading delicately into her cheeks. Dragging his eyes from her visage, Jack turned to the last member sitting at the table. He had almost been pleased to hear that Cassie was having a `gaggle of girls' over, and the Doctor was required to make sure they didn't burn her house down. Sighing, Jack watched as Teal'c dug into his third serving of fries. Regardless of trying to distract himself with observing the other occupants, Jack found himself keenly aware of the Major beside him.
The booth that they had been assigned still smelled of the cigarettes that the previous occupiers had apparently indulged in, but it didn't seem to mask the aroma of Carter's shampoo as she moved forward and back, engaging their mutual friend in a lively argument.
What they were discussing had long flown over Jack's head, but he noticed that he rather enjoyed the glint of aggression that lit his 2IC's eyes. She kept tucking some hair behind her ear, whether or not it was loose from its position and several times, as she brought her hand back down from such an activity, it brushed tantalizingly against his thigh on it's way to hers.
At least, he thought tantalizing was a good word for it.
Even if they had been entirely accidental.
Jack blinked and took a long pull of the bottle in front of him. Teal'c had almost finished his plate and Jack quickly took one of the remaining fries, earning himself a thoroughly dreadful glare from the Jaffa.
"What?" He asked innocently.
Teal'c did his closest impression to rolling his eyes and returned to his food, leaving Jack thoughtfully munching on the deep-fried potato. He had barely said five sentences throughout the night, but felt that it wasn't entirely necessary for him to make his ideas known. He had always been one of the spectators when it came to academic discussions, and he really did enjoy listening to Carter's voice hitch when she became frustrated with Daniel's logic and genius, or just Daniel altogether.
She huffed at that moment and his eyes rose to meet hers. His brows furrowed in question.
"I think it's time to go home, sir."
He nodded in understanding and looked to Daniel and Teal'c to see them agreeing. Daniel gave Teal'c a shove on the shoulder and the big man moved over the creaking leather to leave the booth. A gentle push on his own shoulder and Jack turned to see Carter wanting to get out of the booth as well.
He surrendered to her desire and pulled himself upright, instinctively offering her a hand to help her out.
Her brow furrowed for a moment and then something passed over her eyes for a brief moment before she took a deep steadying breath and took a hold of his hand. He was surprised at her acceptance but wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her fingers felt a little damp from the pint that still sat half full on the table, and the sensation ran halfway up his arm, and he felt his fingers flexing compulsively around hers.
He began to feel a wave of self-recrimination wash over his bones until he saw a look of contentment fall onto Carter's face. For about three seconds he was confused until he realized that she liked the feeling of his hand engulfing hers. It took only second for his brain to send another message to put pressure on her hand again and watched as her eyes snapped to his, a little flush of embarrassment colouring her cheeks.
Daniel and Teal'c excused themselves, telling Jack that they'd take a cab back to base and he wouldn't need to go out of his way to bring them back.
Jack nodded gratefully and was left at the entrance of the pub with Major Samantha Carter.
He froze.
Apparently ignorant of Jack's position, Carter kept moving towards his truck. He had barely caught up with her when he saw her lurch unbalanced to the side and stick out a hand to support herself on a wall that wasn't there.
"Hey!" He reacted, gripping her shoulder and tugging her upright. "Geez, Carter, when did you become a light-weight?" His voice dropped to an intimate whisper as he guided her to his dark truck and opened the door for her.
As she rose into the seat, her eyes met his, and while glassy with the liquor, he knew that she would remember everything that happened. He smiled softly and made sure her feet were well inside before he closed the door and headed around to the drivers side.
"Belt, Carter." He intoned, his playful command tone drawing a smile from her relaxed position as she moved to obey. With a final glance at her to make sure that she was secure as well as to be reassured of her attitude, Jack pulled away from the parking lot.
They had travelled half-way to her house before anything emerged from her. The whole time he had been sitting there, his hands gripping the steering wheel with unnecessary force as he berated himself for being a coward. He had just taken a breath to start when she beat him to the punch.
"Dutch courage."
"I'm sorry?" He asked, his eyes flickering over the mirrors to make sure that he could turn. After making sure that they were safely on the last street, he turned to look at her. "Dutch courage?"
"I'm not drunk… I know exactly what's going on… its just a little bit of Dutch courage." Her words were crisp and thought out, and Jack knew that she wasn't bluffing.
"Liquor loosens the tongue." He murmured in understanding. The truck slowed to a stop and he put it in park. "I was hoping that you wouldn't need any of that."
He hoped that the honesty in his voice wouldn't be lost on her, and it wasn't. She smiled appreciatively, her mouth quirking for a moment before she raised a hand to the handle and cracked the door.
Jack held his breath.
"Come in for a coffee."
It was as close to a command as Jack had ever heard come out of her mouth, but he eagerly turned off the machine and leapt from the seat. He was at her side in an instant, closing the truck door and making sure she didn't stumble in her state. He watched her furrowed her brow in concentration and slowly made her way up the walk, with his hand hovering just behind her elbow. She went under her own power.
Over the years of repressing his feelings, his actions towards her had mellowed. Open comments on her appearance had devolved into searing glances and touches. That wasn't to say that they had lost their feeling, but that they had been relegated to subtlety and convoluted displays of affection: much like his actions now. He wanted desperately to hold her arm, offer her physical support that her wavering steps called for, but fell back on instinct and let her fend for herself, offering her help only when she openly asked or needed it. She knew he was there if she needed him, and that was all she needed.
For now.
He watched her carefully, surreptitiously admiring her form under the long mid-thigh black jacket that she wore. He smiled gently at the picture she made, nearly stumbling up the sidewalk, and though she was awkward, he knew that this would be one of those memories that he would be unable to erase from his mind.
~~~~~~~~~//\~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He who, though thus endued as with sense
And faculty for storm and turbulence, is yet a Soul whose master- bias leans
To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes;
Sweet images! Which, wheresoe'er he be,
Are at his heart; and such fidelity
It is his darling passion to approve;
More brave for this that he hath much to love.
~~Character of the Happy Warrior, William Wordsworth (1805)
****
She had shrugged the evening chill off with the same ease as her coat, which wasn't saying much. Jack had stood idly by, containing his smile as she fumbled with the tie that held the coat closed and then got her arms tangled within the falling sleeves.
It wasn't until she had shot him an evil look that he had stepped forward and gallantly tugged the sleeves off, hanging the chilled fabric on the hangers by the door. He removed his own, shucking his shoes in the same direction and then turning to follow her into her kitchen.
He found her blinking heavily as she stared at the coffee bag. Jack had been tempted to allow her to stare at the wrong side of the bag for a few moments, but wanted nothing more than to get this conversation on the road. Therefore, foregoing all evil intentions, he took the bag from her and smiled pleasingly.
"Go sit." He said softly, gesturing mildly towards the living room.
Almost devoid of understanding, she handed him the bag and padded from the tilled kitchen, her footsteps then muffled by the plush carpeting adorning the rest of her house. He watched her disappear around the corner and as he moved to grab the filters from the still open cupboard, her heard a smothered curse, followed almost immediately by an, "I'm all right!"
Endeared by her actions, Jack finished the coffee and prepared a tray with the mugs and sugar and cream. He carried it out and found her comfortably sprawled on her sofa, her head relaxing against the back as her back leaned against the armrest. He hands were tucked between her thighs and a short lock of blonde hair had fallen onto her face.
For a moment he was almost convinced that she had fallen asleep, but then her eyes opened and looked at him, with almost piercing intensity.
"Are you going to sit?"
Taking a quick breath he followed her suggestion and sat at the end of the couch, where her feet were just barely resting against his thighs. Nearly imperceptibly she flexed her toes, curling them into his leg and then retracting; not so much unlike a cat padding down its bed.
He turned slightly to face her and took in her vulnerable position. Her open eyes were dancing with indecision and confusion while the rest of her was tense in its relaxed posture.
He cleared his throat.
"So…" he started idiotically.
It did, however, bring a lazy smile to her face.
"Why did you go along with it?" Her voice was soft, and she may have been talking to the coffee cup that she held securely to her upper chest. Her eyes flickered over his face as she waited.
It wasn't like he could clarify what she was asking. It wasn't as if he needed to, but he felt the unnecessary urge to joke. He shook his head to get rid of that thought.
"I, uh…" he swallowed automatically, and then took a sip of his coffee. He shrugged. "Everything has always been in your control, Carter…" he trailed off, wondering off-hand if he should have used her first name.
"But now?"
"Now? Now I'm… I'm not sure. It's been nothing different in the last couple of weeks. But after what happened in you lab today, I began to wonder if it was something you were… thinking about too." He looked at her, gazing steadily into her eyes through the steam rising from her coffee. He smirked. "You have a tendency to think things to death, Carter. And this is something I didn't know if I was ready to let die."
A smile crept onto the corner of her mouth and tilted her head. He refused to relinquish his gaze and watched in fascination as she accepted his words with silence. Her fingers played restlessly with the handle of her mug and she lowered her eyes to look at the shifting brown liquid.
"I was thinking that same thing earlier this afternoon." She nearly whispered, her voice sounding like it was about to catch on her words. Jack released a small grunt of acknowledgment and watched as she grimaced. "I don't know what to do with it, though. I've held it in that room for four years…" she sighed and brought her eyes back up to his. "Why do you want to take it out?"
Jack's thumb fingered the rim of his coffee cup, knowing that his fidgeting was just a distraction. He forced himself to respond.
"Because out there," he waved to the ceiling, his eyes following his hand and then drifting down to hers, "Out there… I want to live my life here because I fight so hard to keep it out there." He took a deep breath and then stood up, leaving his mug on the table. His hands gravitated to his pockets and he scuffed his socked foot along the carpet. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I want to fish and watch hockey. Spend a lazy day reading the newspaper in bed… not have to worry about saving the world for one day. Not fear that I'm going to get called away. I want to… to love and be loved. I want to laugh more." He stopped suddenly, wondering just what it was that was spilling this out of his mouth. His jaw snapped shut. He turned to the woman on the couch and looked at her fully.
She was staring at him with a hint of panic in her eyes.
"You sound like you're considering retiring." Her tone was hushed, as it she feared that to speak it in normal volumes would solidify its truth. "I won't let you give up the SGC for this, you have to know that."
He melted at the conviction in her tone and moved to kneel in front of her on the floor. Ignoring the ache in his knees, he settled and hesitantly took one of her hands in his. His thumb ran along her knuckles and he looked up to see her mesmerized by the movement.
He smiled reassuringly.
"I'm not giving it up, Carter. I know that you wouldn't let me do that. No more than I would let you do it for me. That's not what I'm saying. I want both. I want the SGC and I want those lazy days with… you." He said with emphasis. Suddenly the admission brought a flush to his cheeks and his eyes darted away from hers. He shrugged listlessly.
A slight brush against his chin brought his head up to her and he found her gazing at him with something akin to adoration. She graced him with a watery smile seconds before a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. Unable to stop him self, Jack gave in to the cliché and wiped it from her cheek with his thumb, his own lips answering hers with a smile.
He shrugged again, his gesture soaked in his feelings.
She sighed.
"So do I." She admitted in a timid voice, shifting on the sofa.
Jack realized that they had reached a peak in their discussion and had attained the same conclusion.
`It' wasn't going to die a lonely death behind cold, hard mental doors.
His heart did a little happy flip before settling in his throat, and unaccustomed to the uncomfortable feeling, he cleared his throat and paused.
But what were they going to do about it?
~~~~~~~~~~~//\~~~~~~~~~~~
Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth
For ever, and to noble deeds give birth,
Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame,
And leave a dead unprofitable name –
Finds comfort in himself and in his cause;
And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws
His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause:
This is the happy Warrior; this is He
That every Man in arms should wish to be.
~~Character of The Happy Warrior, William Wordsworth (1805)
****
In the end it was a quiet, unspoken agreement that was reached. Both of the soldiers were tired from the emotional day and liked nothing more than to settle in for a good sleep.
Despite Carter's slight intoxication, she was coherent enough to make him promise not to do anything. Then after a swift and heartfelt guarantee, she stood, gingerly plied him off of his knees on the floor with a commanding tug on his hand and led him to her room. The entire procession was done in sacred silence, a journey that he had not dared himself to dream in fear that his happiness ended on such a figment.
Now?
His heart thudded mercilessly in his chest, closing his lungs and creating lead feet as he shuffled on sock feet behind her. He felt her warm fingers embracing his now, and was brought back to the bar and the look in her eye. He hoped that it was still there.
Seconds later his hope was confirmed, but there was more to her look than contentment. Something dark had left her blue eyes, giving them a spark and a glimmer that nearly floored him. Her subdued actions were contradicted by the heated glances she was sparing him out of the corner of her eye.
Their mutual agreement had not only appeased a growing sense of loss within himself, but also within his 2IC. And no matter how often his logical brain would spout regulations and rhetoric, there was nothing that could displace the pleasure he felt in the moment that he realized that she already loved him.
He sighed contentedly, and she looked at him as if she knew exactly what it was that he was thinking. She probably did.
She gestured innocently to the bed and then grabbed her own sleepwear and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Jack noticed with an unusual amount of pleasure that she didn't feel the need to lock it. He smiled to himself and nervously peeled his shirt over his shoulders and folded it carelessly before he placed it in an empty chair in the corner. His jeans followed the same path and he was just placing them on top of his shirt when she emerged and padded softly to the bed, her head bowed in a self- conscious gesture.
She glanced up quickly and pointed to the door. "It's all yours. There's a spare toothbrush on the sink."
Nodding his ascent he occupied the bathroom to complete his nightly routine as fast as possible, highly aware of the warm body that was settling down for the night.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
He was just a soldier: a man who took his country's safety to heart and fought for her future with little care for his own. But he was taking that into his own hands now. He might fight and live in secret, but his future was nothing but open road for the both of them. He smiled at the haggard visage in the mirror.
"You're one lucky bastard," he said softly with an answering smile.
Blinking one last time he opened the door, turned off the light and moved silently across the floor to find out what it was like to sleep the sleep of the truly happy warrior.
~~FIN~~
Story Notes: This is a sequel to "Strange Fits" and that should be read before this one, though I guess it's not entirely necessary.
think that if I had refused to write this sequel, I would have been drawn and quartered in the middle of the samandjack list, for all the fandom to see. That wouldn't be pretty, so I caved and here it is…
http://www.geocities.com/souls_darkangel
EMAIL: souls_darkangel@yahoo.com
think that if I had refused to write this sequel, I would have been drawn and quartered in the middle of the samandjack list, for all the fandom to see. That wouldn't be pretty, so I caved and here it is…
http://www.geocities.com/souls_darkangel
EMAIL: souls_darkangel@yahoo.com
End Notes: I'm sure that if you're all dying for ANOTHER sequel, you'll have no problems telling me. So, if that's the case, here's my email: souls_darkangel@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]