Rating: G
Disclaimer: They're not mine I just borrow them from time to time and promise to give them back in perfect working order...eventually ;).
Season/Spoiler info: Season 10
Author's notes: Inspired by Jack’s retaliation in Return part one about not being a test pilot anymore, which made me wonder about Jack’s love of flying. For Scott.
Jack carefully sweeps the sunflower seeds into a pile on his desk with one hand as he holds a single seed up to the bird on his shoulder with the other. Bobbie – the cockatiel, named for his likeness of a certain game show host, nibbles on the seed before breaking it. Pale grey feathers flutter against Jack’s cheek when Bobbie decides he’s been sitting in the one place too long. Jack can relate.
The bird is old but sturdy. Jack noticed the moment he saw him, staring back through the decrepit pet store window he passes every day to work. Stuffed into a tiny cage, Jack suspected Bobbie had been sold back or rescued after some kind of encounter. Marks like his come from experience.
So Bobbie came with him to work one day and never left. Not many people know he keeps Bobbie here; no one ‘important’ anyway. And if they do? So what? This is trivial when compared to some of the crap he’s pulled off during his career. He knows it’s incredibly juvenile…but he still likes to stick it.
Bobbie wants to fly, and Jack knows it. But, his wings were clipped and although the feathers are slowly growing back, Jack knows he won’t make it.
Butt-skipping along Jack’s desk is as far as he can go before Jack scoops him up to go back in his cage for the night. “One day soon Bobbie. One day soon” he soothes.
Jack locks his office, jumps in his car, and drives away from the lights of the city.
It’s dusk as he approaches the small airfield. He knows Scott, the manager is a little surprised to see him, but he says nothing. Jack smiles politely and nods in the direction of a small hanger. Scott hands him the passkey.
The double doors screech and complain as they part, allowing the lingering light from outside spill across the surface of a solitary PT-17 Stearman. She’s beautiful Jack thinks, solid and reliable.
He climbs into the cockpit, hands running along her sides, fingers lightly brushing the controls. She’s nothing like his first Kaydet. She’s bare, half an engine, and in need of a paint job – but she will fly again. “One day soon Jack. One day soon.”
The End.
