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Sheppard’s team was just finishing up in the locker rooms when SG-1 came in.
Sergeant Wallace seemed to be intact for once but the botanist, Bambus, was shower-damp and still vaguely green-grey from the weird mud on GH8-4CS, where Sheppard’s team had been stationed all week. SG-1 had only been there once, long enough to decide it was Ori-free but sort of interesting in a nature-y kind of way and recommending that some other team investigate further.
Cam had never really thought about who the Some Other Teams were until Sheppard got himself stuck on one.
“Hey, guys,” Cam said, dropping his jacket and tugging his t-shirt up over his head.
They chirped their hellos back at him like good little new recruits and Cam saw Sheppard, over in the corner by the lockers, wince and look away.
“Have fun playing in the mud?” Cam looked over Bambus’ head, trying to get Sheppard to answer, but it was Wallace who snapped off a “Yes, sir!”
Cam had to look away so he didn’t laugh and caught Sam doing the same; a crash from the corner jerked their heads up.
“Yeah,” Sheppard said, stalking past them towards the door. “It was just peachy.”
“Ooh,” Vala said, watching him go, “Someone’s panties are in a twist.” She paused. “Panties. What a nice word.”
Normally, Cam would have egged her on, seen if he could get Jackson to blush, but there was something about the tight line across Sheppard’s shoulders that spoke of more that just a bad day.
When Cam looked up, Sam was looking at him. She had her towel in her hand and a frown on her face. “Someone should-” she started to say and Cam was nodding before she could finish. “I’ll talk to him.”
*
He found Sheppard in his office, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
“Knock knock,” Cam said, stepping around the door and offering Sheppard his best grin. “Mind if I come in?”
“Who’s that?” asked a voice that certainly wasn’t Sheppard’s and when Cam looked, he saw that the handsfree light was blinking on Sheppard’s phone.
“Oh, hey, sorry,” Cam said, backing up, “Didn’t know you were on a call.”
Sheppard dropped his chair back down onto four legs with the sort of crash that probably gave Walter a headache all those floors below. “I’m not really,” he said, leaning over to the phone. “Bye bye, Rodney,” he said and hung up.
Okay Cam thought, revising his planned approach. Still in a shitty mood.
“Huh,” Sheppard said, frowning at his phone like it was confusing him, something sort of… lonely maybe around his eyes.
“Yeah,” Cam said, “That was sort of pissy.”
Sheppard’s grin was humourless then he sighed. “Sorry if I was a bastard earlier.”
Cam shrugged, spinning the visitor’s chair around and straddling it. “No big. Sorry we stuck you with the crappiest team Stargate Command has ever known.”
Sheppard laughed open and friendly and all good things for two heartbeats before fading back to that empty, lost expression all the Atlantis personnel seemed to be wearing these days.
Cam wished he could think of something to say. Sam or Daniel would try to get him to talk but that wasn’t the way Cam operated and he couldn’t think of anything funny to say; Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the guy had just lost his home, what the hell did Cam think he could manage with friendly chitchat.
“Want to get a beer?” he asked.
Sheppard’s head came up with a snap. “Fuck, yes,” he said.
*
They took Sheppard’s car down the mountain. Sheppard drove like a pilot, which wasn’t any kind of surprise: too fast and reckless but totally in control and Cam leant back in his seat and enjoyed the ride.
Sheppard was finally smiling by the time they pulled into the parking lot and the way he rubbed his hands over the steering wheel was a familiar tug to Cam; it was the way he’d felt all those months that he’d been grounded, before they’d let him back up into the air again.
“Anyone taken you to the Alpha Site for the F302s?” Cam asked.
Sheppard switched off the engine and tipped his head towards Cam. “Landry offered.” He shrugged. “And they’re cool, but they’re not.” Another shrug. “You know.”
The puddlejumpers.
“C’mon,” Cam said, opening the passenger door and climbing out; there was a nice adrenaline tingle in his legs. “I’m buying.”
Inside, it was dark and smelt of salt and beer and furniture polish. The place was half empty and the waitress was back with their order before Cam had even managed to think of one thing to say.
“Thanks,” Sheppard said, smiling at the girl and making Cam wonder if he should be getting him laid rather than drunk. But Sheppard just tipped his head back, downed his beer, handed the bottle back to the waitress, asked for another and then seemed to forget she was there.
It was still afternoon and way too early for the sort of drunk Sheppard looked like he was building up to, but Cam wasn’t going to say anything, just drank his own first beer slowly and looked around at the few other customers to see if there was anyone there he recognised, or rather who might recognise them. There didn’t seem to be, though the girl in the corner reminded him of villager #3 from four missions ago.
But then, weirdly, third beer half gone, Sheppard just sort of stopped. Stopped drinking, stopped even pretending to listen to what Cameron was saying and leant back in his seat, closing his eyes.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
Surprised, Cam fumbled his cue. “You’re welcome,” he managed at last.
The nearest corner of Sheppard’s lip curled up, his eyes still closed, long dark eyelashes fanning over the ever-deepening bags under his eyes. Cam wished they’d gone to one of their apartments instead, so he could let Sheppard sleep, so he could reach over and brush the bangs off Sheppard’s forehead and - yeah, so Sheppard could punch him in the mouth and feel even more ganged up on than he already did. Awesome idea Cameron.
“Sheppard,” Cam said, digging his fingernails into his palms so he wouldn’t touch. “You okay?”
Sheppard’s head turned towards him and there was something calculating in his eyes, where Cam had expected drowsiness. Cam’s heart thumped for a second, thinking he’d been sprung.
“You okay to drive?” Sheppard asked, and, relieved, Cam brandished his quarter-empty bottle in answer.
Sheppard smiled, looking pleased. “Cool.” He stood, emptied notes out of his pocket onto the table – way too much and Cam wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or if Sheppard had just forgotten the value of money – and looked down at Cam. “Coming?”
Where? Cam should probably ask, but people always used to call him spontaneous, hot-headed, and he thought that maybe he’d lost that lately; he decided to get it back.
“Sure am,” he said, trying not to feel too pleased with the startled smile Sheppard gave him.
*
Half an hour later, Cameron was starting to remember that spontaneity had its drawbacks.
“You can’t be serious,” he hissed, “You want to steal the puddlejumper?”
“Borrow” Sheppard said, like that made a difference.
They were hiding out in the empty lab opposite the one where Dr Lee was researching the puddlejumper.
Sheppard smirked at him. “Come on, Mitchell, walk in the park.” He paused, frowned. “That really is a dumb expression.”
Cam had to hide his own smile. He kind of liked Sheppard like this, all keyed up with a plan and slightly alcohol-softened at the edges.
From their vantage point (spying via a CCTV link that Sheppard had somehow managed to hook up to a laptop; looked like he’d learned a few things from McKay) they watched Bill wander back and forth across the room, pacing and waving his arms around.
Cam laughed quietly. “Scientists,” he muttered, bumping Sheppard’s arm; no solider Cam had ever met could resist an opportunity to rib the scientists, but Sheppard just said “Yeah,” softly, like crazy scientists were something he missed.
On the monitor, Bill had stopped pacing and was scribbling something on one of the whiteboards. After a minute he dropped the pen, threw up his arms, yelled something that could only be “Eureka”, and raced out of the room.
Sheppard finally did laugh. “He’s kind of strange,” he drawled. “Come on.” And he squeezed Cam’s elbow and ducked across the corridor into the temporary ‘jumper-bay.
Feeling like no one so much as GI Joe, Cam followed.
He found Sheppard stalled in front of the ‘jumper, one hand reaching out to touch, like he thought it might just disappear if he looked away.
Cam hung back, feeling like he was in the way, watching one of Sheppard’s hands gently caressing the ‘jumper’s hull, lips moving but soundless and Cam understood why Sheppard didn’t want to mock crazy scientists anymore: he’d become one of them.
“Hey, baby,” Sheppard said, voice soft and flirty; Cam told his body firmly not to respond to that tone. Sheppard glanced over his shoulder, transferring his happy smile to Cam. “Shouldn’t she have a bit more security?”
“Oh, she does,” Cam said lightly, wishing Sheppard would hurry the hell up and get inside before someone came. “Dr Lee’s just not so good with remembering to set it.”
“Lucky for us,” Sheppard said, though his expression implied he didn’t think they were taking good enough care of his baby. He walked around to the back, nodding slightly when the ramp extended, breathing in the air from the ‘jumper like it was coming straight from Atlantis.
Sheppard stopped at the top of the ramp. “Coming?” he asked, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. “Look, you don’t have to, there’s nothing much more they can do to me, but you-”
“Sheppard,” Cam said, interrupting him, pounding up into the ‘jumper and taking the co-pilot’s seat. “Let’s get going.”
Sheppard looked at him for another long second, then dropped into the pilot’s seat and closed his eyes. All around them, the ‘jumper started coming to life, consoles glowing blue and silver, readouts popping up across the HUD. And Cam had seen it all before, of course, but never quite so… enthusiastically.
“Cool,” he said quietly, making Sheppard spare a smile just for him.
“’Jumper one, ready for launch,” Sheppard said under his breath, and then they were off, speeding their way up the access shafts that’d been used to bring the ‘jumper down here and, behind them, Cam could hear sirens going off, and boy this was a bad idea, but he kept his eyes on Sheppard’s face and didn’t care, didn’t care, didn’t care.
*
“So,” Sheppard said, leaning back in his seat. “Where d’you want to go?”
They’d done three laps of the planet and were now hovering just outside the atmosphere, the Earth a murky grey-blue below them.
Cam held up his hands. “Hey, man, it’s your trip. Where do you want to go?”
Sheppard shrugged; Cam got the feeling he was pretty content where he was. “Venus?”
Cam just looked at him, and the tips of Sheppard’s ears went pink.
“What?”
Cam laughed. “You’re kind of a girl, Sheppard.”
“Oh fuck you,” Sheppard retorted, but he was grinning when he said it. “Oh, hey,” he said, sitting up. “I know.” And he angled the ‘jumper back down towards Earth.
*
“This is your big plan?” Cam asked, watching Sheppard look left and right for witnesses before stepping back aboard the cloaked ‘jumper. They were landed in the furthest empty bay of a Walmart parking lot, somewhere west of the Humboldt River.
“Sure,” Sheppard said, dropping his shopping bags on the jumpseat. Shopping bags for serious; they were really crappy intergalactic fugitives. “It’s a part of it.”
He threw a box of donuts at Cam and went back to his seat carrying what looked like a pen and a card with a pretty rude message.
Cam dug around in the box until he found a chocolate donut and lost himself for a few minutes. When he climbed back out of the sugar rush, Sheppard was licking the edges of an envelope and grimacing at the taste.
“If that’s your suicide note, I want out now,” Cam told him, finding a bit of chocolate sauce behind one nail and working on excavating it.
Sheppard put the envelope down on the dashboard and they took off again; it didn’t take long to find out where they were heading.
“Oh, no,” Cam said, sitting forward and staring down at the endless miles of desert. “You can’t just fly up to Area 51, even cloaked; you’ve no idea what these guys can see.”
“They can’t see us,” Sheppard said confidently, using the kind of suck-it-up voice Cam was more used to dishing out than receiving. “Though if you’re chicken..?”
“Get on with it, Sheppard,” Cam snapped, “Don’t forget we’ve got girly planets to visit and a midnight curfew.”
*
Sentry duty at Area 51 had, Cam reckoned, to be the most boring job of all time. So it was no surprise that the guy on duty was fast asleep, mouth hanging open. “I feel like pouring some sand in there,” Cam whispered, wondering why he was whispering when sound couldn’t carry outside the ‘jumper, but doing it all the same.
Sheppard laughed. “Stick to the plan, Mitchell,” he said, swinging the ‘jumper around in a careful arc and lowering the ramp neatly inline with the sentry’s desk.
Cam picked up the hastily assembled box with Dr M.R. McKay scribbled on the front and, Cam knew, the rude-message card, five bars of Green and Black's, the new Bourne movie and a couple of paperback books inside and made his way to the back of the ‘jumper and down the ramp.
It was the work of a second to place the box on the desk, but Cam had never been able to resist any kind of opportunity and he tapped the sentry on the nose.
The sentry’s eyes opened blearily then opened a lot wider when he took in Cam, to all appearances hovering in midair.
“Hey,” Cam said brightly, then jumped back behind the cloak and watched the guy stare open-mouthed at empty space.
Sheppard was laughing when Cam retook his seat and flashed Cam a grin. “Now that wasn’t part of the plan,” he said mildly.
Cam slouched back in his seat, as cocky as he knew how. “Sheppard,” he drawled, “I improved the plan.”
Sheppard laughed harder. “Right you are. And for that I guess we got to go to a macho planet.”
*
Mars, it turned out, was sadly lacking in little green men. Also in most everything else.
“Huh,” Sheppard said, scratching the back of his neck and looking around at dusty brown rock. “I thought there’d be more going on.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Cam said, kicking back and looking up at the sky: the two moons were bright and the stars were a little different from back home, but nothing like he was used to from SG-1 missions. “It’s kind of nice. Peaceful. Hey,” he sat up. “Scoot around, yeah, see if we can find Beagle 2.”
“And bring it home?” Sheppard asked, archly, but he powered up anyway.
Their first sweep showed mountains and one big-ass canyon. In the middle of their second sweep, they got hit by a windstorm and had to land.
“Wow,” Cam said, watching red sand lash up all around them. “You know they’re gonna send us the cleaning bill?”
“For the planet?” Sheppard asked, distracted, looking as riveted as Cam felt.
Cam punched him on the shoulder. “For the ‘jumper, dumbass.”
“Yeah, well,” Sheppard said, then stopped.
“Yeah, well, what?”
Sheppard shrugged, looked away. “I was going to say it’s my ‘jumper, but I guess-”
And Cam who’d been watching the way the ‘jumper responded to Sheppard all day and the way he responded to her, leaned over and squeezed Sheppard’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’d say she is.”
Sheppard smiled but didn’t say anything and Cam’s brain had apparently decided to work on autopilot because he found himself asking, “So how long would it take to fly to Pegasus?”
Sheppard went still and Cam cursed himself. “A long time,” Sheppard said quietly, but then he started to thaw, relaxing back a little towards Cam, one hand rubbing over the ‘jumper controls like the idea was comforting.
There was silence between them for a minute, then: “Mitchell,” Sheppard said quietly, not looking around. “Do you mean to be doing that?”
It took a second, then another, for Cam to understand, to realise that he still had his hand on Sheppard’s shoulder, to notice that his fingers were unconsciously stroking the same rhythm into the nape of Sheppard’s neck as Sheppard was playing on the ‘jumper.
He snatched his hand back, mortified not even beginning to cover what he was feeling.
But Sheppard was following him around, twisting in his seat so he could look at Cam. He licked his lips. “Did you?”
Jeez, Cam thought panicked, didn’t anyone ever teach Sheppard the rules of this game? His answer was no, the only answer he should ever give was no, no way, no how, but his lips were shaping something else. “Yeah,” he said then raised his eyebrows slightly, trying to look braver than he felt: ball’s in your court.
“Cool,” Sheppard said and kissed him.
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, Cam’s brain told him frantically, but his hands weren’t getting the message, reaching for Sheppard and raking through his stupid hair, grabbing handfuls and pulling, pulling him out of his seat and half into Cam’s, while Sheppard laughed into his mouth and gave as good as he got.
When Sheppard finally pulled away, he was red-faced and bright-eyed, half perched on Cam’s lap.
“I-” Sheppard said, watching him carefully, so carefully Cam felt like a snake being charmed. “Don’t you have to get the spaceship home by 12?”
Cam smiled. “Dad’s going to ground us anyway, I think.”
And that seemed to be good enough for Sheppard who kissed him again.
*
It was getting late by the time they finally made it back to Colorado. Or, at least, it was dark and the ‘jumper’s display was telling him it was 25:17. He didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded late and he said a hasty prayer that Landry was in a good mood as Sheppard carefully lowered them down into the mountain
That hope died a sad, sad death when they dropped the ramp and came face to face with a dozen armed Marines.
“Ah,” Sheppard said, “Home sweet home.”
*
“Reckless,” Landry was saying, had been saying for the past twenty minutes. He seemed to expect Cam to say something, but as Cam had agreed with him the first, second and third times, had agreed with him before Landry had even started talking, he didn’t know what else to say.
Landry had started out by painting Sheppard as the bad guy, lots of leading questions designed to let Cam shift the blame. “Sheppard’s got a history of this, we know that.” “Did he coerce you, son?” Son and a fatherly hand on the shoulder.
Then he’d switched to blame, emotional blackmail “What would your father think?” and now, apparently, he was changing tracks again.
Landry came and sat down beside Cam.
“It’s not that I don’t understand, Colonel,” he said and Cam liked Landry, he did, he just wished he didn’t always have to be around when the General tried to bond. “You wanted to help a friend, very noble, but are you sure Sheppard’s the kind of friend you want?”
Okay, so maybe Cam didn’t like Landry that much after all. He swallowed hard around his instinctive response; his career had lasted far too long to give up on now.
“Yes, sir,” he said, looking straight ahead. “I’m sure.”
“Right,” Landry started to say, leaning back, sitting up, but whatever else he was going to say got lost when his door slammed open and General O’Neill came sauntering through.
“Hey, Hank,” he said in that way of his. “Colonel Mitchell.”
“Sir,” Cam said. He could feel his spirits starting to lift though he couldn’t say why; something about O’Neill always made him seem like he was on your side.
Landry stood up. “Jack,” he said, drawing out the vowel like he wasn’t best-pleased. “We’re in the middle of-”
O’Neill gave him a wide smile then turned to Cam. “Did you get to fly her?”
Cam glanced quickly at Landry, then back to O’Neill. He shook his head. “No gene,” he said ruefully.
O’Neill clicked his fingers. “Ah, that’s right. We should look into getting you one of those artificial ones, I hear they work like the real thing.”
“Jack,” Landry said again and any other day Cam would feel sorry for him, but somehow in the last half day, Sheppard had gotten real important to him and O’Neill was, always had been, Sheppard’s best chance not to go down in flames.
“Go home, Colonel,” O’Neill said, “Report back here at 07:00 for your punishment.” Something about the way he rolled the word ‘punishment’ around his mouth made Cam a little uncomfortable.
“Yes, sir,” he said. He looked at Landry. “Uh, sir?”
Landry sighed, but he waved a hand at the door. “Dismissed. Oh and Colonel? Make it 06:00.”
Cam saluted and skedaddled, not wanting to see who’d win a pissing contest between Landry and O’Neill.
Sheppard was in the corridor, standing with a lazy, half-at-ease slouch against one wall. He straightened up when he saw Cam was alone and Cam got the feeling the attitude had only been for Landry’s benefit.
“Okay?” Sheppard asked cautiously, he wasn’t quite looking Cam in the eye and Cam couldn’t decide if that was because of what had happened back on Mars – and wow, Cam’s life was really kind of cool – or because he’d gotten Cam in trouble.
“Back here at 06:00,” Cam replied. “Probably detailing the armoury or Vala-sitting duty or something.” He gave Sheppard a grin, trying to get one in return. “It’ll be okay, O’Neill’s fighting our corner.”
“Right,” Sheppard said, swinging his arms.
Cam took a deep breath. He didn’t want this to get uncomfortable, he liked Sheppard. “Want a ride home?”
Sheppard looked away, the sweep of his cheekbones going pink. “I’m bunking here.”
Right. Of course he was. And Cam had forgotten. He jostled Sheppard’s arm. “Want to walk me to my car?”
Sheppard glanced over at him, looking confused, but he nodded all the same. “Sure.”
Outside, the air was fresh and clear. Sheppard tipped his head up and looked up at the sky. “Thanks,” he said, not turning his head. “For coming with me.”
Cam wanted to say I wanted to and I’m sorry you lost Atlantis, but it can be good here too or even I think I might be crazy about you; I keep wanting to make you smile, but instead he shrugged. “It’s cool.” When Sheppard still wouldn’t look at him, he smacked his arm. “Hey, I had fun.”
Sheppard finally looked at him. “Yeah?” he offered half a smile. “Me too.”
The stars were always bright from the top of the mountain and, combined with the full moon, it felt like the sort of night when things were supposed to happen. Cam blamed that for the next words that came out of his mouth. “Want to come back to my place and have some more fun?” If it were possible to clamp his hand over his mouth without looking like a ginormous dork, he would have done so.
But Sheppard was biting his lip like he was trying not to laugh, mouth curved around a smile that was almost affectionate. “Smooth, Mitchell,” he said, “Who could say no to an offer like that?” He reached out and squeezed Cam’s wrist and Cam understood, like a thunderbolt or another one of those Martian dust storms, that Sheppard wasn’t saying no, was in fact saying yes.
He shook free of Sheppard’s grip and grabbed his shoulder instead. “C’mon then, car’s this way.”
Sheppard laughed. “We in a hurry?” And it was low and throaty and so fucking hot that “Hell, yeah,” was the only possible answer.
*
Cam’s alarm went off at 04:30 which was the sort of time he would be happier not knowing existed outside of theory.
He groaned and pulled a pillow over his head; it muffled the sound, making the incessant bleeping slightly less soul-destroying, but didn’t drown it out completely.
Something poked him in the middle of his back and he squirmed tiredly.
“Make it stop,” said a voice and huh, there weren’t normally voices in Cam’s bed unless-
Cam sat up suddenly, pillow falling to the floor with a dull thud that he barely noticed because Sheppard was lying in his bed, naked and looking half-asleep, sheets tangled around his waist and revealing a very nice line of hip and thigh and the tiniest hint of groin.
“Hi,” Sheppard said and smiled.
Cam found himself smiling back, leaning down to say his own good morning right against Sheppard’s mouth. Sheppard kissed him back, slow and thorough and Cam pressed closer, getting one arm around Sheppard’s back to keep him still and in and right there.
Sheppard looked soft and debauched when they finally stopped for breath. “Cameron,” he said and Cam shivered because it had always been Mitchell all the time until right at the end last night. “Your alarm’s still going off.”
“Huh?” Cam asked, confused by anything that wasn’t Sheppard’s mouth. Then he heard the bleeping and realised that, yep, it still was. And the muffled banging was probably his next-door neighbour preparing to kill him. He rolled over and smacked it off, shivering when Sheppard curled up against his back, one arm snaking around his waist and a warm hand splaying over his belly.
“What time does Landry want us in?” Sheppard asked into the hair on the nape of Cam’s neck.
“Hour and a half,” Cam said, pressing back.
Sheppard’s hand brushed lower and Cam swallowed back a moan. “So we got time?”
“S’why I set the alarm so fucking early,” Cam said breathlessly, earning himself a dirty chuckle and a soft, wet tongue behind his ear.
*
3 months later
*
Sheppard had been back on Atlantis 3 weeks before the email came through in the weekly databurst:
Mad at me? Remember, you’re the one who showed me how to steal the ‘jumper.
JS
Cam smiled; some apology. Not that he was mad, not really. He got that Sheppard belonged on Atlantis, would never have expected him to pass up a chance to go back. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him.
Yeah, yeah, he wrote back Bring the PJ back next time you visit; we’ve still got some girly planet to visit, remember?
Sheppard’s reply made him smile for the rest of the day, even though Sam rolled her eyes at him and Jackson kept asking why.
Like I'm gonna forget.
/End