1. The Regs by Annerb
2. Parachute by Annerb
3. Cold Feet by Annerb
Parachute
Okay, so flying without a parachute has a few drawbacks. Especially when you find yourself free-falling and the ground that is rapidly rushing towards you looks really, really hard. You know this can’t be good. Sure, you had a nice little bonfire, very cathartic. You’re cured now, right? Every little psychosis you’ve ever suffered just magically disappeared with the trail of smoke that rose lazily into the sky. Yeah, right. If only life were so simple.
You *had* spent a nice evening with your friends, though, just like the old days. You even sat next to Jack, making real eye contact and everything. You remember being immensely thankful that Jack seemed to still care about you, even though you have proven to be a complete lunatic. He had smiled at you and squeezed your hand and promised to call, somehow aware that you would need to take this as slow as possible. He didn’t even seem to care that you would both have to wait a little longer.
For some reason, however, rather than simply being glad and taking what life has offered you, some part of your brain seems to think it would be a good idea to see just how far his affections stretch. Or at least that must be what you are trying to do. What else would explain the fact that you stood him up for your first official date? And the second?
Tonight was supposed to be your third date. You have managed more than you did on the first two failed dates. This time you are actually dressed and ready to head out the door. The keys to your car are even already in your hand. But instead of exiting your house, you’re sitting on the edge of your couch, wearing the dress you bought four years ago on an impulse because you just knew he would love it. Your nails are done, your hair is perfect, and you are wearing an amazing set of lingerie. So why, oh why, are you still sitting here?
Glancing at the clock, you note that you are already an hour late. You can only imagine his anger at being stood up yet again. He had been understanding the first time and quietly resigned the second. By the third, you know he must be losing all semblance of patience. You wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t a call to reschedule this time. You can’t quite ignore the relief part of you feels at that thought. You realize then exactly what it is you are doing: attrition through absence. Or more simply, you are ignoring it and hoping it will go away.
The screech of tires as a vehicle pulls roughly into your driveway lets you know that you haven’t quite escaped. After an impatient, loud knock he plows into your entryway, just as angry as you had imagined he would be. His anger dissipates quickly, however, as he stops short at the sight of you dressed to the nines, keys in hand, frozen on the edge of your couch.
He gently shakes his head and you can hear him mumble “Jesus, Carter,” under his breath. You mindlessly muse whether you have stretched his affection too thin at this point. He reaches his hand out to you and gently says, as if he is speaking to a spooked animal, “Come on, Carter. Let’s go get something to eat.”
You simply stare at his hand, but make no move. Your mind, however, is working on double-time as your damn survival instinct kicks in and warns you away. What if it was just a stupid infatuation? What if he doesn’t care about you as much as you care about him? What if you no longer have anything to say to each other now that you don’t work together anymore? What if there really *is* a black widow curse? What if you absolutely suck in the sack? What if he does?
Somehow, he knows you are thinking a thousand miles a minute, but luckily for you, he has brought with him the perfect cure for your overloaded brain. He doesn’t try to talk to you, knowing that it is useless. Instead, he steadily closes the distance between you, taking time to let his eyes travel over your body and take in your dress. His gaze burns into your flesh and you can tell he appreciates the dress as much as you always knew he would. But now, with that predatory gleam in his eye, you wish you had been wrong. He stops in front of you, just short of touching you, but you can feel the heat emanating from his body. You try to swallow the swelling panic in your throat, but your mouth feels like cotton. Your brain continues to nag at you as if from a great distance, but you find yourself mesmerized and incapable of movement.
You try not to flinch as he reaches out and trails one finger lazily down your arm. The hair on the back of your neck is standing on end and you are sure that if you could actually tear your eyes away from his long enough to look, you would see goose bumps on your arms. Then he begins to slowly lean in towards you, his lips near your ear as he softly whispers, “You know that you’re nuts, right, Sam?” His voice is soft and affectionate and you can feel his warm breath against the skin on your neck. Unable to suppress the shivers that are now coursing down your back, you simply nod and say in a breathless voice that you barely recognize as your own, “Yes, Jack.” He chuckles softly at you and leans in closer to your neck. As his lips brush gently against your skin, your eyes drift close and a soft sigh escapes your lips.
Now you aware that you are kissing Jack. Can you believe that Jack’s lips happen to be the perfect form of therapy? Somehow, you know you should have been smart enough to figure that out. But you find that your brain doesn’t work so well when his lips are…oh my. After about five minutes of his lips working magic on yours he pulls back abruptly to look at you. There is a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, but you can’t quite bring yourself to be bothered. In fact, your mind is blissfully quiet and all you really want to do is drag him back into your arms. You lean back into him, but he steps away and waves a finger at you. With an annoying grin on his face, he grabs your hand and propels you towards his car. “Let’s get this show on the road, Carter, before your brain turns back on.”
You nod serenely, knowing at that moment that you would follow him anywhere. Still dazed, you half-heartedly wonder if you really need a parachute after all. Maybe all you really need is Jack and his wonderful, medicinal, therapeutic, magical lips. Yeah… that sounds pretty great.
Cold Feet
You’ve dated for six months. You can only imagine how many kisses it took to keep you together for that long. But against all odds, you have stayed together, a genuine couple. Non-work topics were discovered for discussion and the black widow curse seemed averted. On the bedroom front, well, neither of you ever really needed to worry about that. You close your eyes blissfully for a moment, contemplating a particularly wonderful memory from yesterday.
Six months, it’s an amazingly long time to last without any major hitch. For a while, you were sure that nothing would ever happen between the two of you. It took a while, but you finally got it right. And you are thankful every day. Especially today, of all days. You can hear milling voices in the hall, guests waiting to be seated. Over two hundred guests, all eager to attend the wedding of the decade. You absently wonder if someone managed to get Thor and Bra’tac into the hall without too much difficulty or raised eyebrows.
You glance at yourself in the mirror once more, absently brushing away a non-existent piece of lint. You have to admit, even to yourself, that you look great today. But somehow, seeing yourself dressed up like this releases an avalanche of panic. Not now! you scold yourself, but your brain, as usual, isn’t listening. It’s too busy listing all the reasons this is a bad idea. Why would anyone want to marry you? They would have to be completely insane! And why would you want to marry someone who was insane? This was a really, really bad idea you begin to realize. Your eyes dart around the room and you briefly contemplate shimming out one of the small windows in the back of the room. You could make it, you’re sure of it.
The only thing that keeps you from making a break for it is the timely appearance of Daniel. You look up to see him watching you with concern. “You okay?” he asks. You nod silently, too scared that if you open your mouth you might throw-up. Daniel doesn’t seem convinced and instead, he hands you a flask that magically appears from a jacket pocket. You quickly toss back some of the soothing liquid and smile gratefully at Daniel. He’s here to tell you it’s time, and that means your window for escape has literally and figuratively closed. With a deep breath, you follow Daniel out of the room.
“Cold feet?” Daniel asks you as he guides you into the chapel. “No way,” you manage to say, your voice slightly strangled. This is the best thing that has ever happened to you and you know it. Now if only your gut would stop twisting and the warning alarms in your head would shut up for even five minutes.
Every head turns to stare at you as you enter. The place is absolutely packed and the room begins to swirl around you. You feel Daniel’s hand gripping your arm and his steady voice in your ear, “Deep breath, just keep taking deep breaths.” You suck in air like your life depended on it (which it actually does, you remind yourself). ‘Buck up, soldier,’ you silently scold yourself as the room finally begins to regain equilibrium. Now that the room is no longer moving around you, it is easy to locate all the exits.
You’re about to abandon yourself to the panic and dash to the nearest door when the assembled crowd lets out a collective sigh. You look up to see what has caused such a reaction. Once glance is all it takes. Suddenly all tension and panic drains out of your body. All you can feel now is a swelling joy in your heart and a certainty that everything in your life has led you to this one, ultimate moment. You silently send up a prayer of thanks to anyone that might be listening that this would be your fate.
Soon the vision in white is standing by your side, her hand in yours. Searching her expression, you see nothing but certainty and love. You lean over to whisper in her ear, “I love you, Sam.” She squeezes your hand and tries to hold back tears of joy. You both know that you have finally gotten your happy ending. Turning to the chaplain, you smile broadly, wishing you could just skip to the part where you get to kiss the bride.
The End
P.S. They lived happily ever after (with only minimal panic-attacks...:).