AUTHOR: Matt, July 2003
SUMMARY: He’s sitting in a bar, drinking alone. Jack’s pov.
SEASON: Future fic.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: The usual. Characters – not mine; scenario – mine.
THANKS TO: Deanie, for the quick beta in between showing off piccies of her new house to me :)
“Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. A guy walks into a bar…”
Well, isn’t this a pathetic excuse for a cliché? A lonely old man, well in his fifties anyway, sitting alone at a bar while a lousy comedian does his routine in a corner of the room. This guy’s act is appalling. Trust me, even Jaffa humour is better than this, and it’s been a while since I heard an example of that. Glancing at my watch I note he’s been there for a good forty-five minutes so it must almost be time for him to finish. Then the jukebox will get plugged back in and I won’t have this urge to strangle someone.
Finally he does finish and leaves the stage to a smattering of polite applause. He gets nothing from me. How he could stand there and joke about war is beyond me, but then again he doesn’t know that at this very moment some stupid snakehead is probably planning a way to circumvent the protected planet treaty. Don’t get me wrong - I like my old pal Thor, even if he does seem to have forgotten I exist lately, but that treaty was such a waste of time. It sure didn’t stop the likes of Anubis and Osiris from attempting their attacks, did it?
I signal to the bartender to get me another beer and he does. We both look at the door as it opens, and a bunch of women walk in and take a corner table. There’s about six of them, all around my age or maybe a little younger, and they definitely look like they’re enjoying themselves. They certainly sound like they are.
My breath catches when I see her. It’s been a while but she still looks the same. Her hair’s still short; she must like it like that. It’s still blond as well. The grey hasn’t hit her the way it has some of the rest of us. She’s laughing and joking and I almost envy her, but she deserves to have some fun.
Still, I wonder if I should maybe go up to her and say hello. I mean, we did have this great connection once. I’ve stopped feeling quite so guilty over the way it ended, even if I know I’ll never forget. I wouldn’t want to forget. It was all so long ago though, and we’ve both changed. Saying hello surely can’t hurt, however, and I slide off my barstool.
I stop when the door opens again and a guy in a suit enters. He seems familiar with the place, but he’s still looking around for someone. He smiles and I follow his gaze; he’s looking for her. I watch him quickly walk across the room and greet her, bending over to kiss her lightly.
I can’t go over now. It would be awkward, and I’ve never been one for social niceties. She’d have to introduce me, she’s too polite not to, and he might not even know about me yet. Besides I’d probably have to admit that I’m here on my own, and that would be seriously embarrassing. So I retake my seat and pray she won’t notice me. While it might look like I’m peeling the label off my Bud, however, I’m watching out for her. She still means something to me and if that guy should ever dare to remove that beautiful smile off her face…
There’s the sound of something solid being placed on the floor beside me and it’s accompanied by a weary sigh. The new arrival takes their seat beside me. I don’t look up. I don’t need to look up to see who it is.
“Did I ever tell you,” she begins, “how much I hate this commute between here and Washington?”
“Yeah,” I reply slowly as I signal for two more beers. “I think you might have said something - just once or twice.”
She takes the beer and swallows a sizable portion of the bottle’s contents. “I don’t know Davis did it.”
“Davis wasn’t spending every Friday and Sunday afternoon on a plane.” I pause and then confess, “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Rain at National,” she says by way of apology. “All the flights were delayed. Besides, there’s no way I’d miss coming home at the weekend.”
“Oh?”
“It’s such a relief to get my laundry done in my own washing machine.”
Okay, so that wasn’t quite the reason I was expecting, or even hoping for, and I tell her so.
She grins and blushes. “I wasn’t going to mention the real reason,” she says. “Not here, anyway.”
We laugh and I lean over to kiss her. She tastes so good that I doubt I’ll ever get tired of kissing her. “I’m glad you’re back,” I tell her. It’s the truth. During the week I miss her like crazy. I got so used to seeing her everyday and now I barely get forty-eight hours a week. Still, a starving man shouldn’t complain and I just make the most of her when I have her. Everyday I’m thankful for being given another chance to live and to love.
Eventually, we decide to head home. She picks up her briefcase and drapes her overcoat over her arm. I follow her through the ever-increasing crowd towards the door. As I do, I take one last look at the corner table. I think I did the right thing in not approaching her. Sara’s my past now, whereas Carter is my present, my future, my life.
FINIS