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Suggested
Rating: for young adult and older readers
Category:
Daniel/Janet romance, holiday fluff
Setting:
Season 7
Synopsis:
Daniel begins receiving mysterious messages the week before Valentine’s
Day.
Author’s
Comments: Gee, you write one
little holiday fic at Christmas time, and then
look what happens – you suddenly feel compelled to write a fic for the
next major holiday that rolls around.
<sigh> Okay, so I
was also attempting to fight the whole pre-Heroes angst I was experiencing, and writing fanfiction is the
best way I know to do that. I
would like to give a nod of thanks to Sara for her Valentine’s piece Hearts and Flowers, and to
“Nebula Fiend” for her story Hither
Walks the Cat, because both sort of inadvertently inspired my idea for
what I worked out here. Okay, influenced might be a more appropriate
term, but – well, imitation is a form of flattery, right?
<g> I also have to say a
word of thanks to Sonia, simply because she’s my good friend and
“writing buddy” – she is a constant encouragement to all my
writing efforts. And finally,
while this was not actually written in direct response to the danandjan list
Valentine’s Day Fic Challenge, it does in fact meet the criteria that
were put forth in said challenge.
Well… almost, anyway.
While there is no red heart-shaped box of chocolates making an
appearance, chocolate is involved at one point. And yes, consider the “High
Fluff” alert to be given and to remain in full effect until you reach
the end of this story. Hope you
enjoy!
DISCLAIMER:
All publicly recognizable characters and places (the Stargate SG-1
stuff) are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret
Productions. This piece of fan
fiction was created for entertainment only and no infringement on copyrights
or trademarks was intended.
Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are
copyrighted to the author. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended
by the author. Poetry referenced
in this piece is the property of the authors credited, and is used without
permission.
I DO NOT LOVE THEE
- by
Michelle Lunsford (2004)
MONDAY,
FEBRUARY 9th
Daniel
Jackson entered the sanctuary of his lab, eyes instantly darting to the bookshelves
as his mind ticked off the list of books he would need to work on the latest
translation project. The
debriefing with SG‑13 that he’d been asked to sit in on had felt
interminably long, seeing as how all he wanted to do was get to work on the newest
artifact the team had brought back – a tablet fragment that clearly had
Ancient inscriptions on it. As
soon as the General dismissed them, Daniel had practically bounded out of the
room. He was just itching to get
started translating that text.
Working
his way around the shelves, Daniel pulled out the volumes he required until
he’d amassed a rather large stack.
Moving cautiously, so as not to overbalance his load, he walked toward
the cluttered desk and carefully deposited his pile of books beside the
tablet fragment. Dropping into
the chair, he reached for the Ancient artifact, his hand suddenly pausing in
mid air.
An
envelope, addressed to him, was sitting there, propped against the fragment
of stone.
Curious,
he reached for it. The envelope
was the typical style used by the SGC for on-base mailing. His first name only was neatly printed
on the outside, but the script was unfamiliar. It was not sealed – the flap had
merely been slid in behind the back part of the envelope.
Eager to
work on the translation, Daniel moved to set it aside. But a tug at the back of his mind
cautioned that it might be something important. Sighing, Daniel pulled on the flap and
opened the envelope.
Inside
was a regular piece of paper, precisely folded. There was not much text, and what
little there was had been printed from a computer.
I Do Not Love Thee
I do not love thee! -
no! I do not love thee!
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.
Daniel
blinked in surprise. ‘A
love letter?’ he mused, disbelief resonating in his mind. He glanced back at the paper in his
hands. Below the poem was
additional wording, printed in a different font.
I confess this is not my normal manner of doing
things. In fact, a part of me is
rather ashamed of resorting to this secretive scheming. However, I am hoping you will choose
to view this in the manner it is intended – as a romantic adventure
that will end (if I am foolhardy enough to see it through) at, I hope, a
beginning. As to a beginning of what, I fear that will be entirely up
to you. But do not be
alarmed. As the poem clearly
indicates, I do not love thee.
Surely, this is all nothing more than a bit of harmless…
diversion.
It ended
there, but was signed as “Admiring from afar”. The signature was in the same hand
that had addressed the front of the envelope. Daniel studied it closely. Although something about it felt
vaguely familiar, he couldn’t place it. In fact, it almost looked as if the
writer had very purposefully constructed each letter, perhaps in an effort to
disguise the print so he wouldn’t
recognize it.
Glancing
around the room, almost as if suspecting to see the deliverer of the
correspondence lurking in the corner, Daniel considered. He’d never been the recipient of
anything like this before. Well,
there was that one time in third grade, when the cute dark-haired girl with
the pigtails had slipped him a note with the infamous “I like you
– do you like me? – check yes
or no” message -- but this
was entirely different. He stared
blankly at the letter. Clearly,
he had a secret admirer. Once the
shock began to wear off, his reaction vacillated between being curious and
being flattered – until a random thought crossed his mind.
‘What
if it turns out to be something… dangerous?’
The
intent of the letter certainly didn’t seem to imply that, and the idea
of someone on base actually being akin to a stalker was almost enough to make
him laugh. Still, Daniel wondered
if he shouldn’t mention it to someone.
With a
sigh, he folded the note, slipped it back in the envelope, and placed it
aside. Innocent or not, the
anonymous letter would have to wait.
He had more important things requiring his attention at present. Spreading the various books out across
his desk, Daniel set to the task of translating.
TUESDAY,
FEBRUARY 10th
Daniel
sat down, reached for his fork, and suddenly realized he’d failed to
pick up silverware while going through the commissary line. ‘You’d forget your head,
if it wasn’t attached,’ he mentally berated, standing and making
his way to the rack of utensils.
When he returned to the table, he saw Sam now sat there.
“Hey
Sam,” he greeted warmly, sitting down across from her.
“Hi,”
she replied, offering a smile.
“Hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
“Of
course not.”
“How
goes the translation?” she asked before taking a bite of her lunch.
“Slow,”
he replied. “But I’m
making steady progress. With any
luck I should be finish--” he broke off in mid sentence, his eyes
suddenly fixated on the item he’d just found hiding below his napkin.
It was a
SGC envelope, with his name fastidiously printed on the front.
“What?”
Sam asked, gazing at him curiously.
“Sam,
did you happen to see anyone stop by this table, before you sat down?”
She shook
her head. “No, not that I
noticed. Why?”
Daniel
glanced back and forth between his friend and the conspicuous envelope. With a sigh, he reached for it. “I’ll tell you in a
minute,” he replied, opening the letter.
It was
another poem. No, it was actually
another stanza from the same poem, Daniel realized as he read.
I do not love thee! -
yet, I know not why,
Whate’er thou dost seems still well done, to me:
And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!
Underneath
was additional writing, as before, in a different printed font.
Yes, I admit that your deeds are well known to
me. And as I have observed those
deeds over the years, they have endeared you to me all the more. I can imagine that you would be more
skeptical – I have perceived you can be your most severe judge when it
comes to examining your actions.
But be assured, there are others who do not see it that way.
This one
was signed, “Impressed by thee.”
Daniel
shook his head in disbelief. His
mystery correspondent certainly knew how to lay it on thick. Pulling off his glasses, he squeezed
the bridge of his nose.
“Daniel?” Sam’s concerned voice
interrupted his thoughts.
Repositioning
the spectacles, he met his friend’s gaze directly. “It would appear I have a secret
admirer,” he admitted.
Sam’s
eyebrows shot up as she blinked at him.
“You’re serious,” she said after a moment.
“Afraid
so,” he replied, waving the letter as evidence. “This is the second note
I’ve received. The first
one showed up yesterday, in my office.”
Sam gazed
at him, her eyes momentarily drifting to the paper in his hands. She bit at her lower lip, brow
furrowing in thought. “Is
it… serious?”
Not sure
exactly what she was getting at, Daniel shrugged. He looked back over the letter. “Whoever it is has quoted two
stanzas from a poem, one in each letter I’ve received. Then there’s other writing
underneath. They’ve both
been typed, but there is a bit of handwriting, in the signature and on the
envelope.” Deciding to
appease Sam’s obvious interest, he handed her the letter. He watched as she scanned the page.
“You
don’t recognize the handwriting?” she asked, after reading the
letter.
Daniel
shook his head. “Something about
it almost feels familiar to me, but I can tell it’s been intentionally
disguised.”
“Well,
it seems harmless enough,” Sam added, handing the paper back to him.
“Yeah,
I guess so,” Daniel replied.
His mind drifted back to the note from yesterday. “Although the first letter did
seem to imply…” he paused, not certain how to word it.
“What?” Sam’s tone had taken on that
edge of concern again.
“The
personal part of the writing described this as being intended as something
that would end at a beginning.” He propped his elbows on the table and
leaned forward slightly. “I
didn’t think about it at the time, but now that there’s been
another letter it makes me wonder if this person intends to reveal herself at
some point down the road.”
Sam
nodded, considering. “I
suppose it’s possible.”
Daniel
leaned back again and began absently rapping his fingers against the table
top. “But why now? And why do it this way?” He shot off some of the questions
racing through his mind, hoping his friend might have some useful input. “I mean, if someone has feelings
for me, why not just come right out and talk to me?”
Sam
shrugged in response.
“Maybe this is her way of working up the courage to confess her
feelings. As for the timing
– well, you know this weekend is Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh
yeah,” Daniel replied absently.
“I guess it is.”
Sam
managed a slight smirk at his apparent lack of recognition of the
obvious. “So,” she
said, suddenly waggling her eyebrows at him and grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Any idea who this secret
admirer might be?”
Daniel
blinked at his friend’s unexpected change in demeanor. “Um, no. Can’t say as I’ve really
given it any thought.”
“Aren’t
you even curious?”
“Apparently
not as much as you are,” Daniel chided good-naturedly. But, he had to admit, Sam’s
enthusiasm often had a way of rubbing off on him. And now that he’d been presented
with a second letter, the issue of just who was behind this little game was
something worth considering.
“Tell
me what you know, and let’s see if we can figure out any
possibilities,” Sam encouraged.
Daniel
smiled and sighed in resignation.
There really was no dissuading Sam Carter when she was in this
mood. “Okay, both letters
were delivered in SGC envelopes, so it’s someone on base.”
Sam nodded
in agreement as she took another bite of her lunch.
Daniel
reviewed the content of the letters in his mind. “It’s someone who’s
been around for a while, because she uses the phrase over the years in the second letter.”
“Good
point,” Sam observed.
“Beyond
that, I don’t know much more.
It could be someone I know fairly well, or someone who I’m
barely acquainted with.”
“Well
then, is there anyone who you’d prefer
this secret admirer to be?”
Sam stared across the table, mischief dancing in her eyes.
The
question caught him completely off guard. “I can definitely say I’ve
not given that any consideration at
all.”
“Maybe
you should,” Sam replied.
He stared
back at her, one eyebrow raised in obvious inquiry.
“Just
a suggestion,” she answered cryptically, and then went back to eating
her lunch.
Daniel
sighed. It was clear he
wasn’t going to get any more than that vague remark on the
subject. Taking another bite of
his meal, he mulled over their recent conversation. If nothing else, his friend had certainly
given him something to think about.
WEDNESDAY,
FEBRUARY 11th
The day
had been productive, if uneventful, and Daniel was looking forward to taking
time out for dinner at O’Malleys with Jack and Teal’c that
evening. They made small talk on
their way to the surface and out to the parking lot. Daniel offered to drive, and the trio
headed toward his car, everyone piling in as he unlocked the vehicle. Teal’c asked him about his
progress on the translation of the Ancient tablet fragment, and he was
prattling on enthusiastically about the work when Jack suddenly interrupted
him.
“Hey
Daniel, what’s that?”
He was pointing at something out the front window.
Daniel
glanced in front of him. There
was an envelope, held against the window underneath the wiper blade. He felt a sinking sensation in the pit
of his stomach and fought against a groan.
“Not
again,” he murmured under his breath, opening the door.
After his
conversation with Sam yesterday, Daniel had spent some time considering the situation. He found himself running through
mental checklists of all the females he knew at the SGC, his mind attempting
to categorize them into different groups according to a variety of criteria. In the end, he’d not been able
to pinpoint any one woman above another as a likely candidate.
However,
it was Sam’s later comment in the conversation that was continually
plaguing his mind. Was there any
particular person he was beginning to hope would prove to be his mystery
admirer? While he had labeled certain
ladies as more likely possibilities than others in that regard, still no
particular individual was standing out in his mind. At least, no one that he felt certain
would actually resort to sending anonymous love letters.
The only
thing he did know for certain was that the entire circumstance was starting
to drive him crazy.
He’d
half-expected to find another letter inexplicably appear somewhere today, but
as the hours progressed and nothing showed up, Daniel began to believe that
perhaps the little game was over.
The idea had even registered with some amount of relief to his
mind. ‘Guess I was
wrong,’ he thought ruefully as he reached for the envelope.
Not
daring to read it in the company of Teal’c, or especially Jack, he
shoved it into his pocket and slipped back inside the car.
“So
what was it?” Jack asked again.
“Nothing
important,” Daniel replied casually, turning the key in the ignition.
“Yeah,
right,” Jack replied, clearly unconvinced. But he let the subject drop, for which
Daniel was immensely grateful.
O’Malleys
wasn’t crowded that night, and so they were seated and served
promptly. Dinner proved to be
quite pleasant, the food even being a little better than usual. Daniel always enjoyed these times,
when he and his friends could simply be together, and not worry about the
usual manner of crises that typically demanded their attention. They chatted, about nothing in
particular, just enjoying one another’s company. Jack had just finished a particularly
amusing story about a fight between a group of women that had ensued at a
recent hockey game when he glanced across the table, fixing Daniel with a
decidedly pointed look.
“So,
Daniel…” the older man began casually, taking a swig of his
beer. “What’s up with
people leaving you mysterious messages on the window of your car?”
Daniel
glared at his friend. ‘So
much for avoiding that subject,’ he reflected dryly. He momentarily considered trying to
play it off. But Jack would get
the story out of him eventually, he knew. And the longer he put it off, the more
unpleasant it would be.
“I’m
not entirely sure,” Daniel confessed. “But it would
seem…” He really
hated to do this. Taking a deep
breath, he let it out slowly.
“It would seem I have a secret admirer.”
The
Colonel blinked in surprise, nearly spewing in response as he choked on his
drink. It was, quite possibly,
the most flustered Daniel could ever recall seeing him – an observation
that resulted in a rather satisfied smile on the archaeologist’s face.
“Are
you alright, O’Neill?” Teal’c asked, glancing at his friend
as he handed him several napkins.
“Yeah,
sure,” O’Neill sputtered, slowly regaining his composure. He wiped at his mouth and gazed across
the table at Daniel. “A
secret admirer?” he asked, obvious doubt in his tone. “You’re serious?”
Daniel
nodded his head.
“Yep.”
“What
does it mean, to have a secret admirer?” Teal’c asked, his gaze
shifting back and forth between the two men.
“It
means some crazy lunatic is leaving Daniel anonymous love notes,” Jack
answered.
“What
makes you assume it’s a crazy lunatic?” Daniel asked, his
expression suddenly growing wary.
“Because
normal grown adults don’t
carry on with such nonsense,” Jack replied matter-of-factly.
Daniel
continued to gaze unflinchingly at his friend. Yes, a part of him realized that this
method of dropping off anonymous letters wasn’t the most mature way for
adults to go about sharing their emotions. Yes, he knew he had no real idea who
this person even was. But, more
importantly, Daniel knew that Jack’s harsh comment – albeit
inadvertently – had just insulted someone who cared about him. And that realization… irked him.
“Maybe
so,” Daniel replied evenly, attempting to dampen his unexpected
chivalrous ire. “But
someone is taking this seriously, since this is the third letter I’ve
received this week. And I’d
appreciate it if you’d keep your judgment calls about the character of
this individual to yourself.”
Jack had
the good grace to look genuinely contrite. “Sorry,” he muttered,
taking another swallow of his beer.
Daniel
was grateful for the apology, but he waved it off with a slight gesture of
his hand, knowing Jack would likewise appreciate a return to more
levity. He reached for his coat,
and retrieved the letter from the outside pocket.
“So,
someone has been leaving you anonymous notes that declare feelings of
affection – is that correct, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c looked to him for
confirmation.
Daniel
nodded as he glanced down at the envelope. To his surprise, he saw that something
had been attached to the outside.
In his haste to bury the letter in his pocket earlier, he hadn’t
even noticed.
“A
kiss,” Jack commented, catching Daniel’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, the hint of
suggestion unmistakable.
Daniel
glanced back down at the envelope, and the small Hershey’s candy taped
to it. Trying to appear casual,
he pulled the chocolate off and set it aside. Then he opened the envelope and pulled
out the letter.
I do not love thee! -
yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be near)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.
Ah yes, the sweet melody of your voice. Pardon me if I must resort to such
sappy sentiments as these, but it is nevertheless the truth. Your words, as well as the heartfelt
emotions behind them, have offered me everything from hope, to comfort, to
laughter. And your gift of
languages has often left me inspired.
There is, quite honestly, no other voice but yours that I would rather
hear.
Daniel
slowly read the words, noting the signature of “Someone who listens to
you” at the bottom. This
time his correspondent had left another clue of handwriting, by embellishing
the last line of the poem with a couple of drawn in musical notes. But he was no closer than before to
recognizing the penmanship. He
glanced over the top of the paper to find Jack and Teal’c staring back
at him expectantly.
“Well?”
Jack said.
“See
for yourself,” Daniel replied, handing him the piece of paper.
As
his friends silently read this latest declaration, Daniel slowly unwrapped
the Hershey’s kiss. He
stared at it for several seconds, almost wishing it could somehow reveal a
clue about this unknown lady who was so lovingly heaping words of praise upon
him.
‘Good
grief,’ he mused, chagrined at the romantic notion his thoughts were
taking. ‘It’s just a
piece of chocolate.’
Without another thought, he popped it in his mouth.
“Not
your run of the mill secret admirer,” Jack commented, passing the
letter off so Teal’c could inspect it further. “Any idea who it might
be?”
Daniel
shook his head. “Not
really. And believe me,
I’ve been trying to figure it out.
But there just aren’t enough definitive clues.”
“Well,
who all have you considered? Have
you been able to narrow it down at all?” Jack pressed.
“I
know it’s someone from the SGC,” Daniel replied, holding up the
familiar envelope. “And I
know from a previous letter that it’s someone who’s been around
for a few years.” He
paused, considering. “While
I can’t be sure, I get the feeling it’s someone I actually
know… maybe not real well, but more than just a casual
acquaintance.”
“I
would concur,” Teal’c replied, handing the letter back to
Daniel. “The signature your
admirer has chosen implies a certain level of familiarity.”
“Okay,”
Jack said, leaning in a bit.
“You’ve restricted the possibilities to who it could be
– is there anyone within that group who you’re pretty sure it can’t be?”
“Well,
we can rule out Sam, because--” Daniel answered quickly, without really
thinking about what he was saying.
Then as it dawned on him where his thoughts were going, he found
himself hastily avoiding Jack’s gaze. This issue of the relationship between
the two officers of SG-1 might be a taboo subject, but Daniel was definitely
aware that certain feelings existed.
“Well, just because,” he finished lamely, mentally
scrambling to add other names to the list before the now obvious silence grew
too uncomfortable. “And
Stephanie, who works in translation, because I believe she just got
engaged… oh, and we can probably rule out Janet as well. But, other than those, I think
that’s about it.”
Several
seconds of silence ensued and Daniel noticed his friends were staring at him,
each with an expression akin to perplexity on their face.
The
Jaffa titled
his head. “Why would you
eliminate Doctor Frasier as a possible candidate?”
“Well,
because…” Daniel trailed off as he began to realize he
didn’t really have an explanation.
‘Well, not any explanation other than the fact you’ve convinced
yourself she sees you as absolutely nothing more than a friend,’ he
mused dryly. ‘But
that’s a subject I’m not
going to bring up right now.’
“Almost
sounds to me like she might be the most likely candidate,” Jack chimed
in, his eyes reflecting the same touch of insinuation his words had.
Daniel
shook his head, not quite sure why he wanted to fight them on this, but still
feeling like he should.
“But – Janet and I are just friends,” he insisted.
“Cannot
friends grow to desire a more intimate relationship?” Teal’c
suggested, cocking an eyebrow at his friend.
“Of
course, but--” Daniel
spread his hands open on the table.
“I mean, this is Janet
we’re talking about.”
Jack
and Teal’c glanced between one another before returning their attention
to the archaeologist.
“So?” they questioned in unison.
“So…”
Daniel floundered. “So
– so maybe I don’t have a reason why I don’t think
it’s her. Still, I just
don’t feel like it’s
her.”
Jack
leaned across the table toward him, and Daniel felt the intensity of the
older man’s stare.
“What
if it is Janet?” Jack said.
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
The
question, like a vague echo of Sam’s earlier inquiry, punched Daniel
straight in the gut. ‘But
knowing the answer to that, and admitting it, are two entirely different
things,’ he reasoned. An
idea occurred to him, and he latched on to it.
“Do
you guys know something I don’t know?” he asked, glancing
accusingly back and forth between the two.
Jack
held up his hands in a placating gesture as he leaned back again. “I don’t know anything
about anything,” he replied adamantly.
“Nor
am I privy to any such knowledge about the possibility of Doctor
Frasier’s having romantic inclinations towards you,” Teal’c
added.
“We’re
just speculating here, Buddy.”
Jack pointed at the letter, still lying open on the table, as he
continued. “But someone definitely has designs on
you. And all we’re saying
is if that someone happened to be Doc Frasier… well, you could do a lot
worse.”
THURSDAY,
FEBRUARY 12th
Daniel
stared at the page of the book open on his desk and realized that, even after
a forth attempt, he still had no idea what he’d just read. Pulling off his glasses, he rubbed at
his eyes and exhaled a long and very exasperated sigh. ‘This is getting ridiculous,’
he thought.
He’d
lain awake for hours last night thinking over his current predicament. Sure, the idea of a secret admirer had
been a bit of fun at the start, but with his friends’ suggestion at
dinner, this amusing diversion had taken a nose dive straight into
no-man’s land.
‘What
if it really is Janet?’
That possibility simply would not stop nagging him.
Daniel
had always thought very highly of his doctor and friend. From the moment he’d met her,
Janet had proven to be not only a competent doctor and military officer, but
also a woman full of compassion.
As he’d gotten to know her better, he’d also learned that
she was a woman of integrity – she maintained her principles and would
fight toe-to-toe with the toughest adversary if pushed to it. He’d happily watched her become a
dear friend to Sam, who he loved like a sister. He’d also watched her blossom as
a mother, after Cassandra entered their lives.
As
a medic, Janet had a way of putting him at ease – hardly ever the case
with other doctors he’d dealt with. And she’d done everything from
clean and bandage the simplest of his injuries to faithfully nurse him back
from the point of death more times than he could count. But she’d nursed him in other
ways too. By being a friend, she
had helped to heal his spirit.
Yes, Daniel had come to treasure his friendship with the members of
SG-1, but there were those times when it seemed Janet was the only person he
could really talk to.
Someone who listens to
you.
‘Would
that be such a bad thing?’ Jack’s
question from last night continually pushed it’s way to the front of
his mind. Of course, Daniel
already knew the answer, just as he’d known it the moment Jack had
asked. And that, he realized, was
the crux of his problem.
He’d
started seeing Janet in a different light a couple of years previous, when
Cassandra became ill and they’d almost lost her. Seeing Janet endure so much pain
brought forth feelings that Daniel had assumed he was incapable of ever
feeling again. And he’d
offered to be there for her, in the best way he knew how. But in the end, Daniel had hidden the
depth of his emotions, convinced that Janet felt only friendship in
return. And, if he was honest,
that was enough to keep him happy.
Or
at least it had been until recently.
Since returning from ascension, Daniel’s outlook on life had
changed. He tried not to take
things for granted as much as he had before. Everything – especially people
and relationships – were more precious to him now. And, truth be known, Daniel had recently
been looking for a sign that just maybe
Janet Frasier cared for him in some way more than a friend. But if it was there, he’d not
found it.
Running
a hand through his hair in frustration, Daniel slammed shut the book
he’d been attempting to read all morning. He had to do something to clear his
head. He absently tapped a pencil
against the book, considering his options. He wasn’t hungry, although it
was now about breakfast time. He
didn’t feel like working out.
If anything, he was tired from too little rest last night – but
sleep was out of the question.
‘Maybe a good hot shower will help,’ he thought.
The
locker room was, thankfully, deserted, and Daniel quickly stripped and
stepped into one of the stalls.
He washed his hair and bathed, allowing the routine motions to
distract him. Then he stood for
several minutes, simply relishing in the feel of hot water prickling against
his skin. While the activity didn’t
completely banish his thoughts, Daniel was beginning to feel better. Eventually he shut off the water,
dried, and deftly fastened the towel around his hips. As he stepped into the outer section
of the locker room, he considered the possibility of going for some breakfast
after all. Reaching up on the
shelf for his clean clothes, his eyes fell to the unmistakable object resting
innocently beside them.
It
was a SGC envelope.
Grabbing
it he fairly ripped it open, a mixture of anticipation and aggravation
pumping through him now. Quickly
he scanned the words.
I do not love thee! - yet
thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.
Yes, I have often gazed into those eyes of yours,
and I have seen many, many things in them. But dare I confess…? I hope to one day look into those eyes
and see, reflected there, things I have not yet perceived.
And yet, who am I to desire such things? For I have certainly never spoken such
with my eyes – at least, not
when you’ve looked into them.
What am I afraid of?
Rejection? Altering (or
damaging?) a friendship?
I’m not really sure.
It
was signed simply, “Hopeful…”
Daniel
sat down on the bench and read over the letter again. So, she had mentioned a
friendship. It was the strongest
clue he’d been given so far, but did that necessarily mean he could
make the connection he wanted to?
He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He was going to drive himself crazy
with this, he just knew it.
Standing and reaching up for his clothes again, he spotted something
else resting on the top shelf.
Curious, he pulled it down.
It was a single, and very beautiful, red rose.
Daniel
blinked, utterly dumbfounded. He
couldn’t remember anyone ever giving him flowers. It was… extremely romantic. He smiled and drew the bud up to his
nose, drinking heavily of the scent.
Yes, it was very romantic indeed.
FRIDAY,
FEBRUARY 13th
Daniel
drove home, trying his best not to give in to the feeling of disappointment
that kept tugging at him.
He’d
managed to finish the translation that day, as well as help Sam with one of
her ongoing projects. But
throughout the day he’d kept a wary eye out for some sign of his next
clue. He’d wondered where
the anticipated envelope would appear, or what it might say. As the hours ticked along, and no
letter was forthcoming, Daniel’s thoughts began to take a different
turn.
Was
the note he’d received yesterday meant to be the last one? Somehow, that didn’t seem
likely. There just wasn’t a
true sense of finality in the wording.
Had his mysterious admirer, as she’d predicted in the first
letter, lost her courage and not been able to see this little adventure
through to the end? Not that he
had any way of knowing when – or if – it was supposed to end, but
Sam’s reminder about the upcoming holiday tomorrow had him thinking it
was a plausible cut-off point.
Eventually
the work day had drawn to a close.
Daniel had planned to spend the weekend at home, as SG-1 was
officially on down-time for the next forty-eight hours. Still, he’d hung around on base
an extra couple of hours in hopes that another anonymous message would
somehow appear. It never did.
Parking
on the street, Daniel shut off the ignition and sighed. He glanced out the front window, and
caught sight of one of his neighbors, also just arriving home. The man was getting out of his car,
attempting to balance a briefcase in one hand, and a huge bouquet of roses in
the other while he closed his door.
Daniel continued to watch as the man made his way up the front
walkway, somehow managed to press the doorbell with his elbow, and then the
look of joy that crossed the woman’s face as she answered the
door. The man was gifted with a
rather amorous kiss for his thoughtfulness, and then they both disappeared
inside.
A
wave of melancholy threatened to wash over him, and Daniel shook his head in
disgust. ‘Get a
grip,’ he chided, sliding out of the car. ‘You’re a grown man, with
a lot going for you. Stop feeling
sorry for yourself just because you didn’t receive some hoped-for Valentine’s
message.’
Daniel
was so busy mentally scolding himself that he almost missed the small
envelope resting on the bottom doorjamb of his front door.
He
stood there, staring at it for several seconds, as the implications ran
through his mind. Only a handful
of people at the SGC actually knew where he lived. Janet was one of them. Even though anyone at work could have
checked the scheduling and seen that SG-1 was on down-time, not everyone knew
Daniel had specifically planned to spend the weekend at home. But Janet did.
Carefully
scoping up the envelope, Daniel unlocked the door, and entered. He deposited the leather satchel and
stack of books he’d brought home on a nearby table, then quickly began
digging through the satchel for the other four letters. Flipping on the lights, he walked into
the den, sat down, and with a deep breath, opened the most recent letter.
I know I do not love
thee! - yet, alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.
I suppose my ruse is up now, as all my
declarations of not love are
clearly evidences to the contrary.
And while it may just as well be my imagination, I do believe I have
seen others – at least certain others – smiling at me, as if they
know the truth. The truth I have,
before now, never felt bold enough to confess to you.
Do I love you? My dear, precious Daniel – in a
certain sense, I have always loved you.
You have been a very dear and kind friend to me, for which I will
always be grateful. But love
reveals itself in many forms, and of late, my heart has been learning to see
you quite unlike it did before.
So where does this leave us? Well, at worst, I have made an utter
fool of myself. At best, your heart
has been moved by my confessions this past week. And myriad possibilities linger
between those extremes. In
closing, I have a proposition to offer.
You will find enclosed with this letter another
small piece of paper. On this
piece of paper is information – time and address – of the
restaurant where I have a reservation, for two, for dinner tomorrow
night. If you decide not to
appear, then I shall enjoy my meal and be content in the knowledge that I
still have our friendship. You
have my word that I will send no more letters, nor attempt to make any future
communication on this subject again.
If, on the other hand, you decide to take the
risk, I will be waiting for you, and… well, we can take it one step at
a time from there.
I realize this puts you at an immense
disadvantage, since I have yet to reveal my identity. For that I can only ask your
forgiveness. Admittedly, my
courage does not reach that far.
I am sorry. I will,
however, leave you with this one final clue.
Perhaps you have noticed my penchant for
poetry. The author of the one I
have used, by the way, is Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton (1808-1870). I dare not claim credit for those
words myself, even though Norton so aptly captured the very utterances of my
own heart. But another poet,
Giles Fletcher (158?-1623), also perfectly expresses my feelings in a line
from his poem Wooing Song. He claims, “Love no
med’cine can appease”.
Indeed, this is true, and such is my loss – for thus I cannot
even help myself.
- Ever yours…
Daniel
could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His secret admirer had certainly
thrown down the gauntlet. But
could he accept her challenge?
He
re-read all the letters again, and then checked the information on the
additional piece of paper. He
recognized the address. It was a
very nice restaurant. She had
offered to meet him in a respectable, and he noted, decidedly public place.
He
considered. If he went, his
curiosity about this mystery would be answered once and for all. She had admitted they were already
friends, so at least he could be assured of a pleasant meal with someone he
knew. If, perhaps, his secret
lady proved to be who he now hoped it was, then… well, as she had said,
they could take it one step at a time from there. If it turned out to be someone else
– at least he’d still know who it was, and then… He paused in thought again, not really
sure where that would leave him.
Shaking his head, he mentally plunged forward. He could cross that bridge when he
came to it. Besides, if he
didn’t go, then the matter would be over – she’d promised
as much. He’d never know
for sure, he’d forever be wondering – and his behavior the past
few days proved that such speculations would certainly drive him mad.
Yes, it
was crazy, and so totally unlike him, but he would accept her offer. He would go.
Feeling a
definite sense of excitement with his decision, Daniel read over the last
letter again. If he chose to read
between the lines, there were signs that the author was indeed who he hoped
it was. Her mention that
“certain others” had perceived her true feelings could have been
references to Sam, Jack, and Teal’c. And although there were several women
at the SGC that he would consider to be friends, he could only think of Sam
or Janet as saying something like “a very dear and kind”
friend. But it was her last line,
the one she’d specifically given as a clue, that gave him the most
confidence. After all, who else
but a doctor could not help herself
if medicine would not appease her condition?
Setting
the letter aside, Daniel reached for the pen and notepad he kept near the
phone. Running through all the
things he’d need to do in preparation for tomorrow night, he began to
make his list.
SATURDAY,
FEBRUARY 14th
Daniel stood
at the door, going through a mental checklist to be certain he had
everything. The cards –
both of them – were inside his inner jacket pocket. He’d deliberated over what to do
considering the possibility that, despite his suspicions, the woman he met at
dinner tonight proved not to be Janet Frasier. In the end, he’d chosen two
separate Valentine’s cards – one especially for Janet, and one of
a more generic variety.
He’d also opted for a dozen, long-stemmed red roses. Perhaps the message such a gift would
send might be expressing too much, but he’d just have to risk it.
He
glanced down, surveying his appearance one last time, wishing again he had a
better sense for judging this sort of thing. Although he’d never been to the
restaurant, he knew it was a bit upscale. So he’d gone for one of his
better suits. It was one
he’d remembered Sam commenting on – something about it looking
particularly tailored for his build.
It was dark, which he figured would work well for a nice, classic
look, but he’d also chosen a light blue shirt and rich maroon colored
tie to brighten things up a bit – or so he hoped.
“It’s
now or never, Jackson,”
he muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers. Taking a deep breath, and patting his
breast pocket to verify the two cards were indeed still there, he headed out
the door.
The
restaurant was bustling with activity when he arrived. He waited patiently for his turn, and
gave his name when he was recognized by the attendant. There was a quick referencing of the
list, and Daniel wondered briefly if the name of the rest of his party would
be mentioned. But when the reservation was verified, all the man said was,
“Yes sir, if you will please follow me.”
Clutching
the flowers in one hand, and fighting against a massive case of butterflies,
Daniel trailed after his guide.
The dining area was slightly dim, with lots of soft lighting and
candles. His eyes were darting
everywhere, looking for someone he recognized. Daniel wasn’t sure of the reason
why, but he desperately wanted to spot her before she spotted him. The attendant seemed to be leading him
through some elaborate maze, weaving in and out of tables as they worked
their way toward the rear of the room.
Eventually Daniel sensed they were reaching a destination, but the man
had inconveniently positioned himself right in his line of sight.
“Here
we are, sir,” the man announced.
He stepped aside, and then Daniel saw her.
She was
wearing a simple navy dress, perfectly fitted to every curve and with some
type of sheer overlay that shimmered slightly in the flickering
candlelight. Her hair was up
– Daniel wondered how in the world she’d managed to get the short
cut pulled into such a soft, sweeping style – that perfectly framed her
face. She glanced up at him, a
delighted smile slowly stretching across her features.
“Hello
Daniel,” she said, her greeting warm but reflecting a hint of timidity.
It took
him a few seconds to find his voice.
“Hi Janet,” he finally managed.
“If
you would care to sit down, sir?”
The attendant’s precise voice cut through the nervous tension.
Daniel
glanced over and noticed the man had pulled out a chair. “Oh, yes, of course.”
“Your
server will be with you shortly,” the man added, and then promptly
departed.
An
awkward silence lingered before Janet finally asked, “Are those for
me?” She waved her hand a
little, indicating the roses.
“Um,
yes,” Daniel replied, carefully passing them across the table. Janet’s fingers accidentally
brushed against his as she reached for them, and he felt his pulse quicken at
the contact.
“They’re
beautiful,” she whispered, drawing the bouquet close to her face.
Daniel
watched, fairly mesmerized, as her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply. A wistful smile pulled at the corner
of her mouth as her eyes fluttered open again.
“You’re beautiful,” he
breathed.
The
observation was out of his mouth before his brain even had a chance to
consider what he was saying.
Reflexively, Janet’s eyes locked with his, and for a moment it
seemed as if the whole world was frozen in place.
“That
is…” he stammered, swallowing hard against a lump that had
suddenly formed in his throat.
“What I mean is you look lovely this evening, Janet.”
“Thank
you,” she answered softly.
Janet
lowered her eyes slightly, in an intoxicating expression of demure
embarrassment, and Daniel began to speculate if his heart would indeed beat
right out of his chest. He
watched, seemingly captivated by her every move, as she set the roses aside
and then rested her hands in her lap.
“So,”
she began, still not quite meeting his gaze. “Did you… know it was
going to be me?”
He took a
deep breath and released it slowly.
“I suspected it might be,” he admitted. He lowered his head slightly, peering
over the rim of his glasses in an effort to catch her eye. “I hoped it would be.”
She
glanced up at that, a touch of astonishment reflected in her gaze. “You did?”
Daniel
nodded, smiling in open affection.
There was so much he wanted to say. Suddenly remembering the cards, he reached
in his jacket pocket. “I,
um… took the liberty of composing something of a reply to your recent
correspondence.” Glancing
at the card, to make sure he’d pulled out the right one, he passed it
across the table to her.
Janet’s
eyes danced with delight as she slowly opened the envelope. And as she read, Daniel rehearsed in
his own mind the words he’d handwritten on the inside of the blank
card.
My dear, sweet, secret admirer
– how am I to answer all the wonderful declarations you have made? You praised my deeds, and yet surely
your deeds (if you are who I suspect you to be) are no less worthy of
acclamation. And your voice is as wonderful to me as the most glorious of symphonies. I too have known hope, comfort, and
laughter because of your words.
As for your eyes, those beautiful deep pools of warm umber – if
you were to allow me to gaze into them now, perhaps you would perceive,
reflected in mine, that which you’ve hoped to see. And regarding confessions… well,
since you appear to have a fondness for poetry, perhaps I can be so bold as
to share one of my own favorites with you.
The Token
by John Donne
Send me some tokens, that my hope
may live
Or that my easeless thoughts may
sleep and rest;
Send me some honey, to make sweet
my hive,
That in my passions I may hope the
best.
I beg nor ribbon wrought with
thine own hands,
To knit our loves in the fantastic
strain
Of new-touch'd youth; nor ring to
show the stands
Of our affection, that, as that's
round and plain,
So should our loves meet in simplicity;
No, nor the corals, which thy
wrist enfold,
Laced up together in congruity,
To show our thoughts should rest
in the same hold;
No, nor thy picture, though most
gracious,
And most desired, 'cause 'tis like
the best
Nor witty lines, which are most
copious,
Within the writings which thou
hast address'd.
Send me nor this nor that, to
increase my score,
But swear thou think'st I love
thee, and no more.
Do I love you? By now I hope you realize that is no
longer the question. How
do I love you? As you have
previously so perfectly stated, love reveals itself in many forms. I do not know how many forms my love
can take, but I am willing to explore the possibilities to the deepest extent
you will allow.
Ever yours, my love,
Daniel
He waited
patiently, quietly watching the glimmerings that fluctuated across her
face. When she finally
glanced up at him, her eyes were shining with unshed tears.
“Daniel,
that is the most beautiful…” she faltered, her voice trembling
with emotion. She stared at him,
biting her lower lip, unable to say more. But the deep sense of feeling revealed
in her eyes told Daniel all he needed to know.
“Happy
Valentine’s Day, Janet,” he whispered.
Her lips
curved in a smile, and Janet reached across the table for his hand. Daniel was almost certain he felt a
spark at her touch. He glanced
down at their interlaced fingers, marveling at the deep sense of contentment
obtained from such a simple gesture.
A
detection of movement drew his attention back to Janet’s face, and he
realized she was leaning closer.
Daniel felt a surge of anticipation as his insides suddenly went
acrobatic. When Janet met his
lips, the kiss was so light – almost inquisitive – and he was
pleasantly overwhelmed by her distinctive scent. She brushed his lips again, more
confident this time, and Daniel willing submitted to the amazing whirlwind of
sensations that washed over him.
Janet
pulled away, and as he met her gaze Daniel detected the clear intimation of
satisfaction in her smile. Her
eyes twinkled with affection, and the promise that there would be more such
intimate moments to be shared before the night was through. She gently squeezed his fingers, where
they still wrapped around her own.
“You
know,” she said, her smile giving way to a grin, “I’m
really glad I decided to finally admit that I do not love thee.”
Offering
a smile of his own, Daniel drew her hand to his lips for a tender kiss. “I am too,” he
agreed. “I am too.
~ THE END
~
For those
who would like to see the poem in full…
I Do Not Love Thee
- Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
(1808-1870)
I do not love thee! -
no! I do not love thee!
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.
I do not love thee! -
yet, I know not why,
Whate’er thou dost seems still well done, to me:
And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!
I do not love thee! -
yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be near)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.
I do not love thee! - yet
thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.
I know I do not love
thee! - yet, alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.
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