Sympathy

by Lady Stetson

Spoilers: this is a 'missing scene' so yes. Jake and the Kid, ep, "Grand Plans"

Pairing: Tony Edwards/Julia Osborne

Rated: A

Disclaimer: Tony's mine, damnit! He's minemineminemine... um... *sigh* not mine. Julia's not mine either. (he is, he is!*pout*)

Author's Notes: Huge thanks to Sue for fitting me in between Buffy and NYPD Blue and betaing this for me. I promise to work on the conjuction thing... really. The poem quoted in part at the beginning of this story, and in whole at the end, is "Sympathy" by Sir Lawrence Dunbar. Finally, of course, thanks to Nick for making Tony so loveable.

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I know why the caged bird sings.
Ah, me, when its wings are bruised and is bosom sore.
It beats its bars and would be free.
It's not a carol of joy or glee,

but a prayer that it sends from its heart's deep core,
but a plea that upward to heaven it flings.
I know why the caged bird sings.

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Tony sat on the edge of his bed to take off his shoes and socks, and then discovered that he didn't quite have the energy to stand up again. Sitting where he was, he shed his shirt and belt, leaving him in only his trousers and undershirt, and then lay down on top of the covers. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really felt safe enough to relax, the way he did here, and his eyes soon drifted shut.

Something pulled him awake with a start. He wasn't sure what it was until he heard it again, a timid knock at the door of his room. His first thought was that they'd managed to find him, and he was about to be re-arrested and taken back to North Dakota and jail. But then he told himself that the knocking wouldn't have been as polite if that had been the case.

He'd been expecting to see Jake when he opened the door, so Tony was surprised to see Julia Osborne standing before him hugging a folded blanket to herself.

"Mrs. Osborne," Tony ran his hands over his hair in an unconscious attempt to make himself look like he hadn't just woken up, "Hi. Did you need something?"

"I thought you might need an extra blanket. It can sometimes get cool at night."

"Thanks." He stepped back, out of the doorway, allowing her access to the room.

She put the blanket on the foot of the bed, and then seemed to notice the disturbed state of the covers, "I'm sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, don't worry about it." She seemed disinclined to leave, so Tony took a chance on appearing forward and closed the door to keep out the numerous insects flying around outside.

"I wanted to thank you, Mac, for playing ball with Ben this afternoon."

"Oh," he shook his head, to show that no thanks were necessary, "I had fun. Ben's a great kid, he reminds me of my nephew."

"Well, Ben appreciated it, and so do I. So thank you."

"You're welcome." Tony smiled at the young mother. Then, while trying to think of something to say in the awkward silence that followed, he flexed his shoulders to work out some of the stiffness that had settled there.

"Jake's been working you hard," Julia commented, noticing the movement.

"I don't mind," Tony told her truthfully.

"But lifting those hay bales all day is hard work, even when you're used to it." She paused for a moment, biting the edge of her bottom lip, then held her hands up in front of her, "If you'd like, I can probably get some of the soreness out of your shoulders."

Tony was taken aback; the offer of a massage was so unexpected. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"I did offer," she said with a smile.

"I guess you did." Tony grinned back at her. "Then I'd be a fool to turn you down."

Rather than agree with him, Julia moved the chair into the middle of the room, "Sit down then."

Tony did as he was told, and Julia stood behind him. He tensed at the first gentle touch of her hands. The sensation was far more intimate than he'd expected; it had been so long since he'd had a woman touch him. He was grateful when she began talking, creating some space between them. He began to relax.

"Daniel used to say that he'd rather do any job on the farm than bucking hay," she reminisced, "he said it stiffened up his back and shoulders, so he couldn't play ball as well."

Tony laughed at that, remembering times when he complained about having to spend hours tucked under a car hood in his brother-in-law's garage when he was in high school, for the same reason.

"What position did he play?" he asked.

"Shortstop mostly, sometimes second base." Tony winced slightly as her fingers found a particularly tender spot beside his shoulder blade but she barely seemed to notice, lost in her own thoughts, "He died in '42, Ben was just a baby." Her quiet voice was far away as she added, "Daniel never even got to see him." Tony had tensed up again as she spoke, her words bringing up memories he'd rather leave buried. "I worry about Ben sometimes," she admitted, "growing up without his father."

"Kids are tougher than you think," Tony reassured her, thinking of her own motherless childhood, "and he has Jake around. It must be hard for you though." Tony tried, and failed, to keep the tension out of his voice. He didn't want to talk about anything related to the war, didn't want to think about it. "Did you grow up here?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"I'm from Toronto," Julia replied, "I moved here after I married Daniel." Tony could almost hear her smile, "I'm sure you can imagine it was quite a change for a city girl."

"I believe that." Tony remembered when he was seventeen years old, and away from home for the first time, his awe at so much open space as the train passed through rural Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois on its way to basic training in Missouri. "But I can see why you stayed."

Julia nodded, he could feel the movement through her stilled hands, and then she seemed to give herself a mental shake. "So tell me about yourself, Mac Smith."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that, for a start, his name was Tony Edwards not Mac Smith; Smith was his mother's maiden name, and Mack, his best friend since childhood, had died in Italy. But that admission would have led to more questions, and the eventual confession that he had escaped from jail, where he was serving time for beating a man almost to death, a crime he didn't even remember committing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see why that would be a truly stupid idea.

Instead, he shrugged, "There's not much to tell."

"Oh, come on," Julia laughed at that, her fingers returned to their self appointed task of relieving the tension in his shoulder muscles as she tried to draw information from him, "what about your family? You said you had a nephew?"

"And two nieces. They're my - that feels good - my sister's kids."

"Is she older or younger?"

"Than me? She's older. My big sister."

"Is it just you and your big sister, or do you have other brothers and sisters?"

"Just me and Anna." Tony felt comfortable talking to Julia, she reminded him a little bit of his sister, so he continued, "I have some cousins in Columbus too, in Ohio. My dad's family, but I never knew them that well."

"What about your parents?" Julia prompted. Tony grew quiet, but then said,

"I don't remember my mother, my grandmother and sister raised me."

"I'm sorry, Mac," Julia apologized swiftly. Tony smiled at her over his shoulder,

"It's okay." He continued, "Jake reminds me of my dad, watching him with Ben." He sighed heavily, "No. Jake reminds me of my dad when he wasn't drinking. I was seventeen when he died." Tony cut himself off, not sure why he was airing his family's dirty laundry for a virtual stranger. Loyalty to his father prompted him to add, "He was a good ballplayer when he was young." He smiled back at Julia again, "First base."

"Who's on first?" Julia asked with a grin. Tony started laughing, surprised, and Julia quickly joined him.

"I like you," he told her when their laughter had quieted.

"I like you too, Mac," she replied. Once again, Tony almost had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her his real name. Julia had stopped kneading his muscles now, and she was just running her hands back and forth over the thin t-shirt that covered his shoulders. It felt good. He shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"That feels a lot better, thanks."

She pulled her hands away swiftly, as though just realizing what she'd been doing.

It was my pl… I mean," She blushed slightly, "I didn't mind."

Tony stood up and turned to face Julia just as she moved from behind the chair, causing them to wind up standing much closer than either had intended. There was an awkward pause, and then the two of them spoke at the same time.

"Thanks for the blanket," Tony said, just as Julia said,

"I should go."

"Yeah," Tony agreed with her, but neither of them moved.

Tony could never be sure who had initiated the kiss, or whose idea it was to move to the bed, discarding clothes as they went, but the next thing he knew, they were slipping, naked, between sheets that smelled of sunshine and the fresh air they'd been dried in.

Tony had only made love to a woman once in his life, and he'd been young and naïve enough at the time to believe that she was the only one he'd ever be with. In the years since then he'd fucked several women, but he hadn't cared about any of them any more than he thought they cared about him. This was different, certainly different from the nameless reaction to a physical urge, but it wasn't the same as being with the woman he'd intended to marry either. He kissed her gently on the mouth as he cupped her bare breast in his hand and ran his thumb lightly over her nipple, causing her to gasp softly. He cared about Julia, despite hardly knowing her. She seemed to represent everything that he wanted in life, and couldn't imagine he'd ever have. His hand moved to her knee, then slowly slid down the inside of her thigh.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked quietly.

Julia looked up at the young man she'd practically thrown herself at; he was actually asking her if this was what she wanted. She smiled up at him, almost losing herself in deep, dark-green eyes. Fingertips brushing through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, she pulled his head down until his mouth met hers.

"It's more than okay," she reassured him just before they kissed once more. Julia almost couldn't believe how forward she was being with this young man she had only just met. She'd never been this bold with Daniel, and there'd never been anyone else. But as he pushed inside her, with a sound in the back of his throat that matched her own quiet exclamation of delight, she couldn't convince herself that what she was doing was wrong.

Tony was pleasantly surprised by Julia's enthusiastic participation; her arms encircled his torso, hands stroking the length of his back, from his shoulders to his waist, and back again. Every thrust of his hips gained intensity as Julia pushed back against him. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her. Julia's eyes were closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and her breath, like his, came in uneven gasps. As Tony watched, her eyes, almost sightless with passion, opened wide and then rolled back in her head before fluttering closed once more. Her hands, open palms running over his bare back, changed direction now moving between his waist and thighs as she, impossibly, tried to pull him deeper inside her. "Dan!" she called out softly, arching off the bed beneath Tony, who was beyond caring what name she called him by, as her fingers curled into talons, sharp fingernails biting into tender skin. "Danny… ohhhDanny…" One more thrust, and then another, and then Tony couldn't have held back any longer if he'd tried.

Drained of energy and sense, Tony slowly collapsed under his own weight. The two of them lay still for some time, until Julia sighed quietly. Tony, concerned that he might be growing heavy, supported himself with his arms again. Julia's eyes were closed, but as he looked at her she opened them and smiled at him. Tony didn't think she realized whose name she'd spoken earlier. He didn't care which wrong name she'd used; he held no illusions that it was truly him she wanted to be with anyway. Julia Osborne was obviously still very much in love with the memory of her husband, and as far as Tony was concerned that was the way it should be. He smiled back at her and then bent to kiss the tip of her nose before lifting himself up and off her, pulling her against his side as he lay next to her on the narrow bed.

"I can only imagine what you must think of me," Julia spoke quietly. Tony took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. He doubted that Julia had any idea what he thought of her; he wasn't sure himself. But it certainly wasn't that she was fast, or easy, or any of the other things she was probably worried about. He tightened his hold on her shoulders and put his free arm around her waist. "I think," he said at last, dropping a light kiss in her hair, "that Dan Osborne was a lucky man."

Julia stayed silent but her breath trembled slightly, and for a moment Tony was afraid that he'd made her cry. Just as he was about to apologize for his remark, she whispered, "Thank you."

Tony didn't know how to reply to that, he wasn't sure there was anything to say, so instead he kissed her again. Julia draped her arm across his body and relaxed against him, seeming content to use his shoulder as a pillow. His earlier weariness overcame him, and Tony only had a few minutes to savor the unfamiliar pleasure of holding a woman in his arms before fading into sleep.

Drifting between sleep and wakefulness, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath her head, Julia could almost pretend that it was Danny in the bed next to her. As she lay there, Mac's steady breath faltered, and his body twitched in response to something in his dreams. "Shh," she soothed. His breath returned to normal, but only for a few short seconds.

He whimpered and shook his head, "Uh-uh," he protested.

"Shh, Mac," Julia lifted her head to look up at his face, "it's okay."

Her words seemed to startle him, and she found herself looking into clear green eyes. "Tony," he told her urgently.

"Okay." Julia wasn't sure what he was trying to tell her, but he obviously wanted a response of some kind. She smiled at him and petted his bare chest soothingly. "It's alright, go back to sleep."

"'Kay." He obediently closed his eyes and was asleep again so quickly that Julia wondered if he'd even been awake at all.

The half smile that he'd given her just before he went back to sleep had been so sweet, filled with unabashed adoration, that it made Julia's heart ache. She wondered for whom the sleepy smile was meant; she doubted it was for her. His sister maybe, or a sweetheart; Julia could imagine him smiling that way at some girl in pin curls and bobby socks. That image made her curious about his age. Jake was certain that Mac had seen action in the war, and Julia was sure that he was right. So he couldn't be younger than his mid-twenties, which would have made him still in his teens when the war ended. She doubted he was much older than that despite the haunted look in his eyes that sometimes made him seem too old for his years, something that the war had left all of them. Daniel had been twenty-four when he joined the army, leaving his home and his pregnant wife behind forever. Julia herself had only been twenty-three a year later, when she'd been left widowed with a young baby who would never know his father. It crossed her mind to wonder if Mac had ever been married, but he had told her enough about his family to make her think that he would have mentioned a wife. He wasn't inexperienced about matters of the flesh, that had been obvious to her, but she knew that didn't always mean marriage. She thought that, if he could learn to live with his past, he'd make a good husband some day, and a good father too, if his behavior with Ben was any indication.

Even before he opened his eyes Tony knew that the woman who had been beside him when he fell asleep was no longer in the bed.

"Julia?" he called softly.

"Over here."

Getting out of bed, Tony located his under-shorts and stepped into them just as Julia pulled her dress over her head. She gave him an almost shy smile as he crossed the room to where she stood.

"I have to get back to the house," she explained. She turned sideways to Tony and moved her arm out of the way while he zipped her dress without being asked. "I can't stay out here," another smile, "even if I want to," she continued.

"Sure," Tony agreed, "if Ben wakes up, or something, you need to be there."

"Besides," Julia giggled, "imagine what Jake would say if he came to wake you up in the morning, and I was here."

Tony laughed, "I don't see that going over too well."

"No." Julia grew serious and she turned to face Tony, putting her hand against his shoulder just where her head had been earlier. "Mac, this can't happen again."

He nodded. He hadn't expected anything else. He cupped her face between his hands, and then smoothed her hair back. "Say the word and it never happened at all."

"That would probably be best."

Not willing to let her go just yet, Tony folded his arms around her shoulders. Julia didn't seem to mind and made no move to pull away when he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I could fall in love with you," he admitted in a whisper, "if I'm not careful."

Tony took a deep breath. He had no right to invite that sort of complication into Julia's life. Releasing her from his embrace, he took a step back. "Good night," he said deliberately.

Turning away from him, Julia stepped into her shoes. "Good night, Mac," she replied. Then she left, closing the door behind herself with a click.

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I know what the caged bird feels.
Ah me, when the sun is bright on the upland slopes,
when the wind blows soft through the springing grass
and the river floats like a sheet of glass,
when the first bird sings and the first bud ops,
and the faint perfume from its chalice steals.
I know what the caged bird feels
I know why the caged bird beats his wing
till its blood is red on the cruel bars,
for he must fly back to his perch and cling
when he fain would be on the bow aswing.
And the blood still throbs in the old, old scars

and they pulse again with a keener sting.
I know why he beats his wing.
I know why the caged bird sings.
Ah, me, when its wings are bruised and is bosom sore.
It beats its bars and would be free.
It's not a carol of joy or glee,
but a prayer that it sends from its heart's deep core,
but a plea that upward to heaven it flings.
I know why the caged bird sings.

End

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