Fic: One Turn 1-Neighbours
Title: Neighbours
Date: 19/2/11
Spoilers: none
Notes: This is the first fic is a series I have been playing around with in my head for a while now. Read a few brief introductory notes I have made here.
Disclaimer: Stargate doesn't belong to me, and they'd probably be peeved that I'm messing with their characters. But since I make no money from it, I think they'll get over it.
~*~
Jack didn't budge when he heard the knock at his front door. Why should he? No one ever came to visit him. No one ever came to ask his opinion on things, or to see his new toys. And this was a great shame, for Jack considered himself to be an excellent visitor. So when the knock came he didn't move, merely remained where he was, sprawled out on the rug, flying his jet in circles over his dog's head, coming in for the occasion landing along Rusty’s nose.
When, however, excited voices wafted from the door, penetrating the calm warmth of the den, Jack thought he had better go investigate. After all, his daddy had always told him to look after his mother while he was at work.
He didn't recognise the man talking to his mother, but he seemed very happy and was wearing a blue uniform like Bobby White's daddy. Maybe he was going to go fly a real plane like Mr White - that would certainly make anyone excited, and would definitely why he was here to share his news. Except... well, Jack's mother seemed to be very excited for the man, and he knew that his mother often got tired of listening to Jack talk about flying. So this couldn't be the important news, after all.
The man stayed only a short while, passing back short, hurried, and hugely grinning words that Jack continued in failing to understand. When he left, Jack noticed what, or rather who, he had overlooked in the presence of the excited stranger. Having been tucked up against his father's leg had been a boy. He was about Jack's age, and considering his father had just bounded back across the road, appeared to be staying awhile.
Jack eyed the boy warily. He had neat blonde hair parted neatly on his head, far tidier than Jack's own sandy hair, spiking up in all directions. Jack didn't really trust people with such near hair; his hair never went like that, so who knows what they had done to manage it. This boy did have a baseball crammed into his jacket pocket, however, so maybe there was some room for hope.
"I'm Mark," the boy said as Jack's mother took off his coat, handing him his ball. "We live in the blue house."
Jack knew this, he had climbed up on the top of his daddy's car to watch the moving men carry in all the furniture. He had seen a uniformed man and a pretty blonde lady moving in and around the house, but he hadn't seen a little boy. This was great, there were no other boys their age on the street - maybe he be would be his friend.
"Where was your daddy going?" Jack asked as he led him outside to play, wondering if this boy's dad would maybe take him flying too.
Mark threw his ball and grinned, "He's gone with my mum to buy me a present."
"Is it your birthday?" he asked hopefully. Jack liked birthdays - there was usually cake.
"No, they've gone to get me something special - a sister." Jack didn't know that toy. When he said so, Mark just puffed up with importance and explained. "A sister is something only special big boys can get. It's something you can play with and have to take really good care of. And you have to wait a really long time for them - you have to order them from a really far way away place."
"Yes..." Jack said, looking on Mark's excited face. "But what is it?"
"I told you, it's -" Mark stopped. "Well if you don't know then you mustn't be special enough to have one, so I won't tell you."
Jack just shrugged. It didn't matter, he had plenty of toys.
The boys played happily all afternoon, discovering a shared love of baseball, model airplanes and tree climbing - all the things life-long friendships were built on - and it wasn't long before the pair, entirely worn out, crashed inside the new living room fort.
It was a far more subdued Mark who graced their doorstep the next day. While his father, watching him from the porch, was grinning ecstatically, the proud excitement had left Mark's face. Following his mother next door, Jack asked Mark what was wrong. The boy mumbled something quietly, but the only part Jack managed to make out was something about 'crying'.
Jack liked Mark's house; it was bigger than his and smelled like cookies. Sitting on the couch was the blonde lady he'd seen moving in. Mark ran up and tucked himself in next to her, sitting very close. Jack's own mother greeted her and moved in to inspect the basket on the coffee table - which Jack thought rather odd, no matter how much his mother liked her washing to be neat.
When the lady noticed him trailing behind she smiled at him and invited him forward. She reached into the basket and pulled back a blanket, showing Jack not folded clothes, but a tiny pink thing. So this was a sister!
Jack studied her closer, the pink thing was a tiny little person! She had hands even smaller than his and the same light hair as Mark topping her head. Her feet were covered in the tiniest pair of socks he had ever seen. His mother chuckled lightly at the sight of her son, the boy who was never still, standing transfixed at the side of the bassinet, fingers tight on it's edge.
Wakened by the weight of all these eyes upon her, the baby opened her eyes and started to cry. Jack saw Mark flinch slightly but his attention had wavered only momentarily. Turning in her search for comfort, the baby's eyes had landed on Jack and her crying ceased. Her eyes were as blue as the sky and so big in her tiny face.
"Jack," Mark's mother said softly. "This is Samantha."
Somehow knowing he had to be very gentle, Jack reached into the basket and touched her little hand, surprised when she wrapped her fingers around his. Mark didn't seem all too happy with his new sister, but Jack was starting to think she was pretty special after all.
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