(no subject)
Title: Just A Pinch of Fairy Dust
Rating: G
Challenge: Passion - samcarter_gen
Character: Samantha Carter
Summary: She sails towards the horizon and the second star to the right, even now.
Make-believe: that eternal childhood game of imagination and creation, participation in which is often characterized by invisible friends and playing “House”. An assurance that you can be anything you want to, if you scrunch your nose and close your eyes and believe - because in the end, that’s what it’s all about. Even in adult life; even in the Stargate program.
She played as a princess, like children do, had a court of stuffed animals and tea parties complete with plastic cups and kettles. When the glitter and pink faded, she put aside her tiara and scratched plastic scones.
She dressed in dark cloaks and pointed hats for two Halloweens in a row, practicing her evil cackles until Mark cried. When someone pointed out that witches had dark hair, she filled her cauldron with broken toys and the tattered remnants of her dress.
She dreamt of ponies for five months after seeing a local parade, and every day begged her father to let her have one because she was a girl and girls had ponies, it was just the way the world worked. When she discovered she was violently allergic, she tore down the crayoned magical horses hanging above her bed.
She lifted off into space with every shuttle launch and soared among the stars, twisting to look at Earth and wing back down to her body when the songs of the moon had lulled her to sleep. And Samantha wished on a shooting star that she would never lose this hope, this dream.
Her imaginings turned to thoughts of boys and cars and shopping, eventually, and for everyone around her the magic faded. But, as some have found, they cannot part with that simple and cherished piece of childhood; they hang onto it with tooth and nail and refuse to let go, even if they are unaware of the fight within themselves.
They are the ones who never manage to dismiss the power of believing.
Sam clung to the edge, knowing that her fingers were slipping, praying that her teammates were coming.
And despite the pains and pangs of growing, flaunting the limitations of “maturity” and “adulthood”, even into the harshness of life, a part of them holds onto the magic that has carried them through.
“Sam?”
“Carter!”
“Over here!”
And then they were above her, leaning too far over the edge to grab her numb hands, pulling her up, saving her.
Because of that, sometimes when the sky slips into a shade too unreal to be blue and the grass sings like the moon only softer and with a thousand more voices, the line between reality and imagination can blur.
She got her breath back as her cramped muscles slowly subsided in their complaints and opened her eyes, looking up from the rocky cave floor to thank them.
There was no one there.
Rating: G
Challenge: Passion - samcarter_gen
Character: Samantha Carter
Summary: She sails towards the horizon and the second star to the right, even now.
Make-believe: that eternal childhood game of imagination and creation, participation in which is often characterized by invisible friends and playing “House”. An assurance that you can be anything you want to, if you scrunch your nose and close your eyes and believe - because in the end, that’s what it’s all about. Even in adult life; even in the Stargate program.
She played as a princess, like children do, had a court of stuffed animals and tea parties complete with plastic cups and kettles. When the glitter and pink faded, she put aside her tiara and scratched plastic scones.
She dressed in dark cloaks and pointed hats for two Halloweens in a row, practicing her evil cackles until Mark cried. When someone pointed out that witches had dark hair, she filled her cauldron with broken toys and the tattered remnants of her dress.
She dreamt of ponies for five months after seeing a local parade, and every day begged her father to let her have one because she was a girl and girls had ponies, it was just the way the world worked. When she discovered she was violently allergic, she tore down the crayoned magical horses hanging above her bed.
She lifted off into space with every shuttle launch and soared among the stars, twisting to look at Earth and wing back down to her body when the songs of the moon had lulled her to sleep. And Samantha wished on a shooting star that she would never lose this hope, this dream.
Her imaginings turned to thoughts of boys and cars and shopping, eventually, and for everyone around her the magic faded. But, as some have found, they cannot part with that simple and cherished piece of childhood; they hang onto it with tooth and nail and refuse to let go, even if they are unaware of the fight within themselves.
They are the ones who never manage to dismiss the power of believing.
Sam clung to the edge, knowing that her fingers were slipping, praying that her teammates were coming.
And despite the pains and pangs of growing, flaunting the limitations of “maturity” and “adulthood”, even into the harshness of life, a part of them holds onto the magic that has carried them through.
“Sam?”
“Carter!”
“Over here!”
And then they were above her, leaning too far over the edge to grab her numb hands, pulling her up, saving her.
Because of that, sometimes when the sky slips into a shade too unreal to be blue and the grass sings like the moon only softer and with a thousand more voices, the line between reality and imagination can blur.
She got her breath back as her cramped muscles slowly subsided in their complaints and opened her eyes, looking up from the rocky cave floor to thank them.
There was no one there.