A/N: Thanks to Nicky for making me believe this song could work. It's a Jam one-shot. Song is 'You, Wonderful You' sung by Gene Kelly in the musical, 'Summer Stock'.
When you dream, what comes out into the open are your wishes: your deepest wishes.
I'm glad I met you,
Even if you hated someone at first, or even if you just decided they got on your nerves a bit, there could come a time when you'd be pleased to have known them. Especially when you were in the business of putting yourself in danger on a regular basis. Being able to think that your colleagues wouldn't let you just get shot or beaten or whatever was a great incentive for coming into work when otherwise you might not find one. Jo knew this.
You, wonderful you.
What she didn't know was how you turned from disliking someone, detesting someone, to dreaming that you were with them. She couldn't comprehend how things could change that dramatically without warning, without hesitation. Never having held much stock in what dreams instructed her on, she found this one itching in the daytime. She found that, for once, her dreams were telling her something she didn't know. Something she hadn't wanted to know either.
I can't forget you,
You date. You pull yourself away forcefully and slam your head back against the brick wall when you stumble into it. You don't know what it is that stops you backing away further, whether it's the wall or your own desires. Jo sensed she should move away, desperately wanted to on those lonely occasions when she recognised exactly how much hope she had, but she couldn't. Intoxication was a cruel thing. It made you believe things that weren't true, doubt things you knew to be certain. So, after a while, she began to doubt if she ever disliked Sam Nixon. And, a little while after that, she started to wonder if Sam was as straight as she first appeared.
You, wonderful you.
What do you do with your doubts? You eventually banish them to the back of your mind. You store them in a box never to be opened willingly again. The trouble with that is that they spill out. They spill out at the worst times, when you need to hold it together. But Jo was determined never to let that happen. She was determined never to let anything out. If she did- or didn't- have feelings for Samantha Nixon, any thoughts relating to it would stay in her mind. In her dreams. Because that's where they belonged.
You're like a breath of spring,
When you recognise you're getting nowhere you have to re-evaluate. Make a choice one way or the other. Pursue or flee. It was basic survival instinct. You weighed up the odds and hedged your bets. The problem was, when it got to that point Jo knew she was already in too deep. She didn't want to leave and not see Sam on a daily basis. Because, even though she knew deep down nothing would happen, the option was still a safety net. If she had that she still had hope. She could go into work a thousand times and be happy with that principle.
A whole new thing has happened.
Then you share a moment. It isn't always big, sometimes it's insignificant but it still wheedles its way into those pesky dreams. And you find you want a person more than ever. You convince yourself they want you too. You know it in your heart. Jo knew. When Sam met her eye from across the room to share a knowing look about Neil, Jo knew. She knew, for starters, that Sam had looked to her and no one else. She knew, secondly, that Sam had smiled at her. Smiled as a person does a hundred times a day. It was a small sweet smile, the secret kind that you shared with someone who knew what it meant. Jo liked to think she knew.
And without much ado, I look at you,
To approach someone when you have no real idea how they'll react is brave to say the least. You might have an idea how they'll react, you might have a hope, but the problem is you never really know someone. How you interpret something can be completely different to how they see it and the wrong end of the stick can be sharp and painful. When Jo approached Sam it was difficult. She mumbled what she was trying to say, ended up asking her for help with a case rather than out for a drink. But, as it turned out, the two could be merged. Especially after-hours with a takeaway Chinese and a cheap bottle of plonk.
And there stands love.
Straight women are always the worst. They think they know what they want, then they don't. You think you know what they want, and then you don't. It's a sphere of confusion, you flit about haphazardly not knowing which way is up. Sam floated around as much as anyone. Jo didn't mind it as much as she'd thought she might. She was enamoured, completely overtaken by her desires. Even if something had been wrong no one would've been able to convince her it was unsurpassable.
My arms around you,
When you hold someone you really love you know it. Even if you're not familiar with the emotion, you know it. It bolts through you like lightning, settles in the stomach. It might churn there for a little bit, to let you know it's around, but when it evaporates into your body it feels so natural. Because it's love. The first time she held Sam as they both drifted to sleep, Jo felt she was going to explode. She wanted to pull away, but she didn't. She wanted it more than her fear could quell.
That's wonderful too.
Having a secret can either be debilitating or extremely liberating. Jo's romance was Sam fell into the latter category. Keeping themselves hidden wasn't the only option, but was one she enjoyed. She liked the secrets looks Sam threw her way in meetings. She liked the way she'd occasionally look up and find the blonde's piercing green eyes resting on her. She wanted to have this secret. She couldn't be bothered with worrying about opinions, she'd rather be happy in private than argumentative in public.
So glad I found you,
Of course, there are arguments. Everybody has argument. Every couple has those periodic moments that make them question their commitment and make them wonder if they were ever right for each other. Jo and Sam weren't exceptions. When they argued, it got passionate. Jo knew she had a temper of her own but once Sam got going she couldn't match it. Yet they always made up, and making up was always the best bit.
You, wonderful you.
Sometimes you can't pinpoint why you love someone anymore than you can pinpoint when you started loving them. Jo knew Sam had all kinds of wonderful and enchanting qualities, but she couldn't differentiate enough to say which one had bewitched her first. Sam as the package was what she adored. The woman who invariably woke her in the mornings with a coffee and a lingering kiss. Something else Jo knew was that, however stormy things got, this was one relationship that was here to stay. Before when she'd had that notion, it had always felt somewhat forced, as if she wanted it too much. Not this time.
Remember, finders keepers,
Sometimes you thank your lucky-stars, before you remind yourself that there aren't any and of this is just pure chance. Chance that you moved to London. Chance that you began work at Sun Hill. Chance that Sam was there as well. Jo recognised chance as what it was- something to be grateful for. Without chance she didn't know where she'd be.
You can lament what other people haven't got you'd never wish on them what you had. It's too special for just anyone. When she thought of the people- the men- that Sam had been with before, Jo started to balk, them she remembered: they'd lost her. They hadn't deserved what they had, and more than that, they hadn't recognised what they had. She knew that was where she was different.
And because it's true,
Jo loved Sam. Sam loved Jo.
You're mine now,
Wasn't that all that really mattered in the grand scheme of things?
You, wonderful you.