The Park Bench


Disclaimer: Stargate characters and everything else are not mine.



They loved walking in the park together, especially in the afternoon, when the sun was high and the breeze gentle. It was autumn now, and the wind blew harder and colder than it had last month, but whatever was lacking in warmth was made up in thicker jackets and the company of the other.


Her hand was wrapped securely in his. The contact made her cheeks flush slightly, and not on account of the cold. His grip was always comforting to her, whether her thoughts were jumbled or her emotions out of control. He helped to ground her into reality unlike anyone else she had ever met, and yet he kept her dreams alive. So strange, his effect on her. She smiled.


Almost subconsciously, the couple made their way to a green park bench, and sat down. It was a familiar place to them, a place of happy memories, of acceptance and realization and love. It was here that she first understood the depth of her feelings for him; it was here that he had come to see her; it was here that they had kissed for the first time. Such happy memories.


She noticed his smile too, and laughed slightly. “You remember too?”


He looked at her steadily, love in his eyes. “How could I forget?” He wrapped his arms around her then, and they sat in comfort for a time, silent, enjoying the closeness.


The bench was fairly small, and could fit only three people. Even less if two people should spread out. It provided the sort of privacy that they wanted just then, to be able to relax and enjoy the relative tranquility of the park.


There was an ice cream vendor halfway across the lawn that stretched out before them. She spoke impulsively. “Would you like some ice cream?”


He looked at her dubiously. “It’s rather chilly,” he said.


“I’m just sort of in the mood for ice cream, I guess.” She smiled impishly.


“Now that you mention it…” he trailed off, that slight twinkle in his eye. She smiled. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and walked across the field to the vendor, not having to even ask for what flavor she wanted. He already knew.


She watched him walk. His gait was always full of strength and determination, and sometimes even a slight bounce when he was happy. He was walking with that bounce now – and for some reason she couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he walked. She was so absorbed in watching him that her mind didn’t even register the presence beside her on the bench, an unfamiliar presence.


She smiled back at him, as he walked back to their own little place. He tilted his head a little and furrowed his brow, and she wondered what made him do that. It was then that the foreign presence – a stranger – made himself known to her.


“Sorry,” it said, “but this bench is taken.” The man smirked at him, while inching just slightly closer to her.


“I was sitting here, so if you’ll excuse me…” Politely, he took a step forward, trying to dislodge the new arrival from his place on the bench.


“The lady would prefer me to sit here, I think.” Such arrogance in his voice, she thought, grating her teeth.


She spoke up, unwilling to surrender their place on the bench to suit this – this stranger. “Actually, I would prefer my companion,” she replied coolly, trying her hardest to glare menacingly. But in the past few months she had lost the ability to glare as well, or so he told her. She tried not to smile at the memory and ruin her stare.


“I don’t know, I’m rather comfortable here,” he leered.


She opened her mouth to speak, but his words came quicker. “Please then, by all means, stay. There is plenty of room for us all.” And with that, he planted himself firmly on her lap, smiling broadly.


Surprised at first, she then laughed at the stranger’s discomfort. “You see, my husband and I do not like to be seated on different benches,” she said, confident in their triumph. Lifting her hand, she displayed the thin gold band to the man.


The stranger mumbled his apologies, and left the bench swiftly. He shifted off of her lap and back onto the bench, and handed her the ice cream.


“Thank you, Daniel,” she said, lost once more in her own contentment.


“You are more than welcome, Sam,” he replied.