Rating - K

Characters - Daniel Jackson, Vala Mal Doran

Disclaimer - The only parts of my SG1 fan fictions that are mine are the stories, plots and any characters/races/planets/critters never before seen in canon.

Author's Note - Each paragraph is a drabble (100 words or less) capturing a moment or sentiment.

Moments

She watches. She stands in the doorway, leaning against the wall and just watches him. He's completely oblivious to her presence, immersed as he is in the object in front of him. He'll continue to be oblivious right up until the point when she bounces in, complaining she's bored and making him huff in impatience, scold her for disturbing him. For now she just watches as his brow furrows in concentration, his fingers twitching as they trace the markings, tapping the end of his pen against the notepad as he unravels the historical puzzle before him. She just watches him and smiles.

She sits across from him, the rest of the team at the same table. All laughter and joking, small smiles and little comments. She catches him as his lips curve the tiniest amount, that small self-depreciating smile that she wishes she could change to one of joy. She wishes he could see just how much he has done, just how much he means. Then someone says something and that smile is gone, replaced with a different expression. But she saw it. She always saw that little smile.

In the middle of a fight and she finds she can't look away. His face is grim, his eyes turned cold as he peeks round his cover and fires. There's something in him that has changed since she first met him and it draws her, intrigues her, makes her feel as if she has to find that broken piece of him and fix it somehow. He glances back toward her, his face softening for a second to tell her that everything will be all right – always the comfort, always the hopeful one. Always there.

It's a celebration – they are free from threat. Everyone should be drinking, eating, dancing, but she can't see him. He should be there as this is for him just as it's for everyone else. But she can't see him. She moves through the room, searching, seeking, asking of him, until she spots a shadow just outside the door. He stares up at the sky and she cannot help but watch him, drink in the sight of him at peace for a while until she drags him back into the party, no matter what he wants.

She watches over him. He's sleeping, sprawled under the sheets, showing childlike abandon in slumber where he cannot in waking hours. He dreams, she knows, and when they become too much for him, she soothes his forehead and whispers to him until he rests peaceful again. That's when she smiles in wonderment at knowing him, when her heart lightens, that moment when he rests easy under her gentle touch. That single moment when she can see him as clearly as he sees her, his barriers wisps in the breeze, his defences down. So sweet, so wondrous, so him.

He's holding her. She can feel the warmth of his body curled around hers, sheltering her as he always does. She has tried so hard to watch over him but in the end it is he who has watched over her. From the first moment, throughout their lives, until the last breath – always he has been her protector, her believer, her strength, her truth, the mirror that reflected the good of her heart. She thought she was looking after him all the time, going where he did to watch his back. But he was always looking after her.

Time goes by. She watches him. He watches her. Their friends watch them both and smile for the dance they see before them. They know that these two have found a rhythm and a melody that they can live their lives to, easy, uncomplicated, their own personal symphony of life. He looks at her and she feels at peace. She looks at him and he knows passion. They look at each other…and there is nothing beyond their gaze. Just him. Just her. Dancing in love together. Watching each other forever. Eternity in each others eyes.