I Do Not Love Thee
by Michelle Lunsford
E-MAIL: michelle@thelunsfords.net
STATUS: Complete
RATING: PG-13
SEASON: 7
SPOILERS: none
CATEGORY: D/J, romance, Valentine's Day
SUMMARY: Daniel begins receiving mysterious messages the week
before Valentine's Day.
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.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: 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. 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? 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!
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
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 Ms. 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."
"You're 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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