Without a Trace

Jack/OC, Jack/Sam implied

PG

 

*****

Smile, Jack

from Midnight Caller

 

 

“Come on, Jack, just a small smile.  A grin?  How about a grin?  You do have teeth, right?”

 

That got him to smirk a little, and she snapped off a quick frame while the expression lasted. 

 

“I’m really not a big fan of getting my picture taken,” he admitted, crossing his arms.  But he stayed put, at least, readjusting his feet on the white paper seamless. 

 

“You’re dating a photographer; you have to have known I might take your picture at some point,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

 

Zooming in, she suddenly saw something in his eyes, beneath the sadness that had always been there since she knew him, to a deeper sorrow that he’d managed to hide from her until now.  She tried to take a shot, wanting to see if she could even capture such a thing on film, but also perhaps knowing there was probably a reason she’d never seen it before this moment.  But her finger hesitated, and instead, she stood up, looking at him. 

 

“She must have been really special,” she said quietly.  He met her eyes, but didn’t reply. 

 

Her words hung in the air for a moment before she hunched back behind her tripod. 

 

“Smile, Jack,” she said flatly, the futility of her own request tugging at her heart as she swallowed past the tears and clicked the shutter.