DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World 
Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no 
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other 
characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: BLUE FLAME
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
WEBSITE: http://www.beautyinshadows.net
RATING: All Ages
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Jack UST
ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
SPOILERS: Through "Solitudes"
SUMMARY: "She wants to be warm."

Thanks to TeddyE for the beta-on-the-fly.:)

Written for the GateShip Wednesday Shorts "Solitudes" Challenge.  
370 wds.


"BLUE FLAME"
by 
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
 


Three weeks on, and she's still cold.  Her fingers feel numb when 
she types.  She lights the fire in her small apartment and hovers 
close to the flame.  For a few brief moments the chill subsides, 
but when she moves away the gooseflesh washes over her again.  
She thinks of drowning in the flames and never being cold again.

She paints pink and red over her lips and bites at them to 
stimulate the circulation and tries to forget the cool blue that 
colored her reflection upon their return.

Her BDU blouse stays on at work.  She hopes no one notices.  The 
windows of her car stay sealed and the heater blasts.

He was warm and kind and gentle and felt too good to do anything 
but forget.

She tries not to feel small in the queen-sized bed she treated 
herself to when she landed the transfer to the SGC.

She remembers her father's hand on her cheek on the first 
anniversary of her mother's death, the hopeless wish in his eyes 
that he could heal the family, resurrect the warmth.  She knows 
her father feels this is the final and deepest way he failed her 
mother.

She can't remember the last time her father touched her.  She 
doesn't know the last time she heard his voice.

Or she does.  The day she was promoted to Captain.

She hauls up extra blankets from the wire cage that serves as her 
portion of the basement storage.

She wishes he hadn't teased her about giggling and made her feel 
she could achieve things she never believed.

She wishes he hadn't made her feel beautiful.  She prefers to 
feel smart and strong.  She prefers to forget she didn't always 
live alone.  His arm across her midriff felt like Jonas riding on 
the back of her motorcycle as they roared into the night skyline.

She hadn't let herself feel that either.  If she had, it never 
would have gone so far.

Neither man understood that kindness makes her cry.

She curls beneath too many blankets on her living room couch and 
stares into the fire, cold fingers tucked against the pulse in 
her throat.

She wants to be warm.

She wants to be alive.

*****