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The bar was quiet. He paused at the door a few moments letting his eyes adjust from the bright Colorado day. Glancing at his watch, he sighed. It was just 4:30. They were supposed to met up at 5. He had time to kill. He began walking towards upright piano in the corner.
“Dr Jackson. Will the rest be joining you?” Smiled the hostess while he passed.
His mind was cluttered with facts not germane to the moment. Name, name… aah, right. “Yeah they will be here in few, Tina.” His polite smile didn’t extend to his eyes. “I’ll just wait over here.” He gestured towards the instrument.
The bench’s cushion leather was shiney with age and the keys yellowed. He ran a scale listening to the notes. The notes rang true. His brows raised and he humphed in mild surprise. In the years they'd been coming here he never tried the piano. Normally he was the late one, unless someone yanked him out of his office.
Today… he needed air. His office seemed claustrophobic. He wasn’t in the mood to work late. Things lately had become stressed. He noodled a few notes thoughts drifted. A phrase from one song, a melody of another. Pffft, he thought,’ it wasn’t things. It was us. We’re at a turning point. Either we go forward or we let go.’
He was letting the stress flow his fingers. He drifted through snippets of different tunes. A smiled curled his lips when he became aware of the tune his fingers delicately brought forth.
Für Elise. His mother’s favorite tune.
She had a simple music box that played the opening strains of it. As a child he remembered winding it up to hear the tune. The music box was lost somewhere in Cairo not the long before he came to the SGC. The notes came slowly sounding sweeter then one would expect of a barroom standup. The tune evoked memories of cool night after the hot desert day. He was laying in the tent nearly asleep while the sounds of his parents drifted just under the tinny music. Her laughter. His deeper hushed tones. The sounds of a happy couple just enjoying life. He kept replaying the first movement of the piece as the music box did. He smile broadened as he blinked out of the memory.
His eyes looked past the piano to the wall as he recalled the other parts of the piece. He picked up tempo. It was more passionate, heated. He played it with more discordia then the great composer probably intended. The 2nd phrase reminded him more of themselves. He became the left hand, her the right. Separate sounding beautiful, together a much stronger sound. The energy of the right hand seemingly scattered fluttering like a butterfly next to the left’s steady strong sounds. It was how they worked. His, no their work load at gotten more streamline. She was now fluent in Ancient to the point that sometimes they left English using what ever language fit the argument.
The 3rd phrase became harmonious again. The left starting and the right finishing. It was the synergy of those rare moments; sometimes it happened when they in deep trouble, others deep in archaic translations, even more peculiar in times when the masks fell it was when their souls touched. Sometimes touches happened over the most inane things: Fries, Basketball, Laundry.
The fourth phase was now. The emphatic cadence returned. The left plodding through a repeating single note, while the right pounded out separate notes. Things were coming to a head. It was clear after Ba’al’s death. The Ori were in retreat. There was hope now. The question of their future loomed in his mind. He paused briefly before the final phrase.
His eyes closed again as he played out his hopes for the future via his fingers. The dance between the hands coming together in a soft joy. Slowly the notes sounded, beginning to increase tempo. He replied the last bit again. This time decreasing the tempo until the last few notes seemed to hang in the air.
A hand touched his right shoulder. He didn’t need to look. Only one person breached his personal space habitually. He raised his left hand cover her hand.
“Beautiful” Her voice wavered while her fingers squeezed. It took him no time to realize it was the Ancient word for a transitory moment of beauty. He looked up. Her eyes seemed to shimmer. She leans down and kissed his cheek. Her hand dropped. He was left holding his own shoulder. His brow wrinkled as the question formed in his mind. She straightened stepping away to give him room. She had learned long ago his preferences for personal space. He stood his mouth opened then closed. His brow loosened up as he changed what he first thought to say.
He captured the hand and pulled it towards his chest.”We could be yes” The words in English simple and direct. Silver met Azure as her eyes raised to his.
“I’d like that” Her soft smile was genuine. Her hand trembled and he tightened his fingers around it. Time seems to stop.
An obnoxious cough broke the spell. He looked past her pigtail the rest of the team in the booth. Teal’c simply nodded. Sam and Cam wore big grins.
“It won't be easy,” He murmured looking at their friends."and not just because of the peanut gallery." He guided her hand to his arm.
“Darling, nothing worth it ever is” The Goa'uld words after darling spoke of absolute conviction in the proper path. They walked to the booth. The future uncertain, but for this moment there was happiness.