|
1. After he gets back from the Sodan, the first time:
Sam mentions Jackson’s reaction to Landry’s
threat of declaring him missing in action (and he’d been what before that, he wants to ask, taking a vacation?), and
Cam figures that has to mean Jackson’s warmed up to him at least a little bit.
He catches Jackson in his office,
when Lam finally releases him from the infirmary, still frowning over the concept of him walking around when he’s just
been dead for seven hours (it was nice to have a rest, he tells her, but the idea kind of freaks him out a bit. He’s
done near-death once already, and that’s enough for the next few years).
“Oh. Hi,” Jackson says when
he finally registers Cam standing there. “Can I help you with something?”
“Yeah. You got any books
with anything to say about the Sodan?” It’s not entirely an excuse to drop by Jackson’s office, ask him
to come out for a drink and then, maybe, to go back to Cam’s place for, whatever, coffee. He really is interested in
the culture, and though he can’t remember exactly when he turned into the kind of person who reads ancient anthropological
texts for fun, he figures it’s probably at least part of why he asked to join SG-1.
“Sure.” Jackson
gives him the look he’s got very used to seeing, the one that means, I don’t understand why you’re here,
or why I’m here with you, and I’m not sure I want to. Cam grins back at him – it pretty much always works
– and Jackson goes over to his bookshelves. “Here, try this one.” He hands Cam a small, brown-covered book.
“Or, actually, there’s some interesting history in here as well – well, we thought it was mostly myth, but
you’d know…”
Cam ends up sitting on the floor of Jackson’s office, listening to him talk about
Jaffa culture and answering an occasional question about the Sodan. He only remembers that he’d planned to seduce Jackson
over beer and chicken wings when he’s leaving at 2am.
It seems kind of late to start, at that point.
*
2.
After Ferguson… After:
He kind of wants to go after Teal’c, ask more about the Rite of M’al Sharran,
but Teal’c, in his own stoic way, is celebrating, and Cam knows he’ll be no fun at a party. He’s barely
fit for regular human company, but that doesn’t stop him when Jackson walks into the locker room and stops. Cam doesn’t
look up – he knows they all know already – and after a minute, Jackson says, “I’m sorry about your
friend.”
“Me too,” Cam says, not the gracious acceptance of condolences that his Momma taught him,
but he is sorry and apparently four years aren’t enough to start feeling less guilty after all. Doesn’t matter
what Ferguson said about it being part of the job, everyone takes more risks for a friend and if he’d just –
“Sam
and I are taking Teal’c out to celebrate the vote,” Jackson offers. “You’re welcome to come along.”
Cam
shakes his head. “Thanks anyway.” He can see the shape of Jackson on the edge of his vision, but not clearly enough
to make out his expression. “I’m just gonna go home.” And he figures, what the hell, it’s not like
today can get much worse, so he looks at Jackson, lets himself look the way he’s made himself not for months.
Something
flickers over Jackson’s face, too fast for Cam to make out, and he loses his nerve, just like that: dog fights with
aliens, no sweat, suicide run on a Goa’uld ship, sure, but this is what does him in. He grabs his coat, stuffs Ferguson’s
pamphlet in his pocket and stands up. “See you in the morning.”
“Mitchell –“ Jackson
says, soft, but Cam cannot do this, can’t hear whatever he has to say.
“Have a good evening,” he
tells Jackson, and runs away.
*
3. On the trip to Pegasus:
Jackson’s as close to vibrating as Cam’s
ever seen him, talking the ear off anyone who’ll stand still long enough – and a few who won’t – about
the Ancients and Atlantis. It’s almost enough to make Cam feel bad about keeping him on Earth, even though it’s
not really his fault.
Cam, on the other hand, is bored out of his mind. Emerson won’t let him play with the 302s
– in space! While not trying not to die! – and the crew are starting to look like they might kill him and throw
him out the airlock if he doesn’t leave them alone.
He’s mostly over his freak out and subsequent flight,
and Jackson hasn’t mentioned it, which could mean anything, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
“So,”
he says, tracking Jackson down in the officers’ mess, where he’s poring over another Ancient text and sipping
from a nearly empty coffee mug. “You wanna get out of here?” Maybe the direct approach is going to work for him.
It has before. “Relax for a bit before we get to Atlantis?”
“What?” Jackson doesn’t even
look up. “No, I can’t, I have to get through this.”
Message received. Cam gets up to leave, and Jackson
looks up with a distracted smile. “Thanks anyway.”
*
4. On the Odyssey, not that he’ll remember:
He
pretty much gives up after making the offer on the ride out to Pegasus, figures Jackson’s either letting him down easy,
or just not picking up what he’s trying to say, but three months into the time dilation field, when it starts to become
*real* clear they aren’t going home any time soon, it seems like he doesn’t have anything to lose. Plus, it’s
not like Jackson can start avoiding him if he doesn’t want it, so they’ll get over the awkwardness pretty fast.
Just
for a change, this time Jackson comes to him, steps out in front of him when he’s running circuits round the ship, just
far enough away that Cam doesn’t crash into him. He’s wearing the look that says he’s got questions, or
fascinating Ancient knowledge to share, but the only look Cam wants to see is the one that says they’ve got a way out
of this. He’s desperate, stir crazy, ready to do anything to break the monotony.
“You want to have sex?”
he asks, and he’s only breathless because he’s been running through the ship, on his seventh lap.
Jackson
blinks at him, open-mouthed for a moment, then says, “Vala-” and Cam remembers seeing her slip out of Jackson’s
quarters a couple of days ago, dishevelled. Fuck.
“Forget I said anything,” he says, and jogs away.
As
far as he can tell, Jackson does.
*
… And one time he succeeded:
He pretty much gives up after
the offer on the ride out to Pegasus, figures Jackson’s either letting him down easy, or just not picking up what he’s
trying to say, but then he spends fifty years trapped in a time dilation field, and doesn’t get laid even once, if Teal’c’s
eyebrow raise tells him anything. He contemplates Jackson’s “Asgard wisdom” – life is short, yeah,
newsflash there – and figures there might be something in it. Plus, it’s not like Jackson can start avoiding him
if he doesn’t want it, so they’ll get over the awkwardness pretty fast.
Just for a change, this time Jackson
comes to him, steps out in front of him when he’s on his way home, late at night in empty corridors, just far enough
away that Cam doesn’t walk into him. He’s wearing the look that says he’s got questions, or fascinating
Ancient knowledge to share, but Cam’s had it up to here and then some with the Ancients lately, ready to do anything
to break the monotony.
“You want to have sex?” he asks, and he’s only breathless because Jackson
startled him, appearing out of nowhere in an otherwise empty corridor.
Jackson blinks at him, open-mouthed for a moment,
and Cam’s sure he knows what’s coming.
“Forget I said anything,” he says, prepared to walk
away, but Jackson puts a hand on his arm, stops him.
“You sure?”
“About which part?”
“Either.
Both.”
Cam looks at Jackson’s hand on his arm, a promise of everything he’s wanted for the last two
years, more, since he lay in a hospital bed and listened to Jackson thank him. “The first part. Yeah.”
“Finally,”
Jackson says, and kisses him, a quick brush of lips against his because the Mountain never *really* shuts down. “You
want to come back to my apartment?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Cam says, because Jackson
will never know how true that is.
|
