The back story fic!

[godinakilt]

Phoebe was asleep. It was rather nice, actually. She was getting her REM on, nice fluffy dream involving shirtless Cole and some rather interestingly placed cherries. Which is why the last thing she would expect to be hearing is Orlin’s voice.

Specifically Orlin’s voice saying, “Phoebe, wake up. Wake up. Don’t make me come down there.”

Phoebe woke up.

And muffled a surprised cry as she saw Orlin looming over her. She glanced over at Cole, who was snoring slightly beside her, before sitting up in bed with the sheet clutched up against her chest and hissing, “Orlin! What are you doing in my bedroom? How did you get in here?”

Orlin blinked at her and suddenly went fuzzy, his image resolving itself after a moment of pixelisation. “I’m not actually here,” he explained in a low tone, gesturing vaguely upwards. “I’m up there.”

“But why -”

“I found him.”

Now it was Phoebe’s turn to blink. “You found him?” she repeated, hope in her eyes.

The hologram nodded. “I found him.”

“Where is he? Is he alright?” Phoebe leaned forward, eager, catching herself as Cole made a sleepy grumbly noise and tugged at the covers. She dropped her voice. “Well?”

“He’s here on Earth,” Orlin replied. “But I haven’t been able to get close to him. That’s why I’m here. I might need your help.”

“On Earth?” Phoebe seemed stuck on repeat. “Yes, Orlin, of course, I’d do anything to help get him back.”

“Then come on,” Orlin said. “Get to the roof now. We’ll go from there.”

Phoebe nodded. “I’m coming.”

Orlin offered her a small smile before the hologram flickered and disappeared. Phoebe sighed and slipped out of bed, dressing quickly. She had no idea what she was going to need, so she just grabbed a few supplies and shoved them into a bag. She hesitated before writing a note for Cole. She would have preferred to wake him up and tell him herself, but that meant that he wouldn’t have let her go. So instead Phoebe left a note and slipped out, hurrying to the roof. Which was . . . empty. Completely.

Phoebe stumbled to a halt. Okay, that was -

“Gah!” she jumped as a ship appeared before her, long and squat. A hatch hissed open and Orlin poked his head out, looking haggard. There were bags under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Maybe weeks. But he smiled when he saw Phoebe and ushered her inside.

“Phoebe, it’s good to see you again,” he said, standing aside to let her pass.

“You, too, Orlin,” she murmured, ducking her head through the hatch before turning to give him a hug, which he returned a bit stiffly. “How are you?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as we find Camulus,” he replied, tapping a button to close the hatch behind her and picking his way through the ship to the controls. “Find a seat while I get us in the air.”

Phoebe nodded and settled into the seat beside Orlin, her eyes wide at the sight of the glowing controls. And, to be honest, slightly worried that there appeared to be open wiring that sparked alarmingly.

“I didn’t get a chance to clean it up,” Orlin offered by way of explanation as they took off smoothly. “I built it to work and work in a hurry.”

Phoebe nodded again. “I understand.” If she had been him, she would have done everything she could to find Camulus and find him fast. Hell, she had done that anyways. Orlin just apparently had better luck with it than she had. She looked out the front window as clouds ripped by at an amazing pace. “What did you find out?”

“Like I said, he’s still on Earth,” Orlin replied tersely. “Remember Baal?”

“The guy on the tape who was threatening us?”

“Yeah, him,” he nodded without taking his eyes off the sky. “He’s doing the same thing Camulus was - hiding out on Earth. Only instead of teaching he went into business. He’s gotten very rich and very powerful in a very short amount of time, but he still doesn’t know much about Earth. Which is what he wanted Camulus for.”

“He mentioned something like that on the tape. So he’s working for this Baal guy here on Earth?”

“Yes. And I managed to track him down. We’re heading there now. Can you do something to change our appearances?”

“You mean like a glamour?” Phoebe asked, her brow furrowing. “I suppose I could. Why?”

Orlin glanced at her with a humourless smile. “Because Baal has to know I’d come for him and he would definitely take steps to stop me. We have to become someone else for a while.”

Phoebe smiled back, determined. “I think I could manage that.”

They flew into the rising sun, crossing the Atlantic in a flash. Phoebe didn’t know where they were when Orlin landed the ship in what looked like a construction zone, cranes and trucks still and unmoving. “Land’s getting rezoned,” he offered by way of explanation as he powered down the ship. “No one should find it before we get back.” He turned to Phoebe. “Think that glamour can cover clothes, too, or do we have to find a store?”

She shook her head. “I think I can do clothes. What kind?”

“Business executives,” Orlin replied. “Make us look classy.”

“You don’t ask for much,” she murmured dryly, but concentrated anyways. “Here goes nothing.”

***

The security guard looked up, his eyes flat and suspicious out of habit, as two people entered the building and headed for his desk. He eyed them appraisingly. Tall, dark-haired man, greying a bit at the temples, and a younger blonde woman, her hair pulled back in an elegant bun, both impeccably dressed. The man offered him a smile as he leaned on the counter.

“Good afternoon,” the man said, his voice bearing a slight British accent, “We have an appointment with Mr. McCool.”

The security guard caught the look the blonde woman shot at her companion and his eyes narrowed a bit. “And your name was?”

“Sam Carter,” he replied with a charming smile that slightly mollified the guard. He missed the hand that quickly shot up to cover the woman’s mouth as she stifled a snicker, glancing down at his list. Sam Carter was there indeed.

“Sign here,” he said gruffly, pushing the visitor list towards them.

Mr. Carter signed in a confident hand and handed the clipboard to the blonde woman, who juggled it for a moment before scrawling her own name and handing it back to the guard with a smile. He looked down. “Have a good day Mr. Carter, Ms. Mars. Go right in.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Carter grinned at him and set off towards the bank of elevators.

“Mars?” Orlin asked in a low tone, somehow managing to speak without actually moving his lips as the elevator soared upwards.

“It was the only thing I could think of, Mr. Carter,” Phoebe replied. “And you could have warned me about the McCool bit.”

“You didn’t expect him to go by Camulus out in the real world, did you?” Orlin asked, raising an eyebrow as the elevator dinged. “Here’s our floor.” He held the door for her in a gracious gesture. “After you, Ms. Mars.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Carter,” Phoebe murmured, sashaying past him. She was almost starting to enjoy this cloak-and-dagger stuff. Except for the fact that the man who owned this building would kill her for being in it.

Orlin charmed his way past a secretary and marched through a bustling cubefarm into what were clearly the executive offices, moving confidently, as though he belonged there, his hand on the small of Phoebe’s back the entire time, steering her in the right direction.

It was shaking.

“There it is,” he murmured finally, gesturing towards the closed door. A shiny brass nameplate read ‘Cameron McCool, Partner’.

Phoebe swallowed hard as Orlin raised his hand to rap at the door. This was it. Her insides were all twisted up and her heart was pounding. Orlin’s hand on her back was shaking harder now and she wondered at how he was keeping a straight face. Rap rap rap.

A pause.

“Enter,” came the grunt from beyond the door.

Orlin seemed unable to move, so it was Phoebe who reached for the doorknob and stepped in, stumbling to a halt. Some part of her knew that it would be Camulus in here, but somehow she just wasn’t prepared for it. Orlin was right behind her and she could feel his breath quicken as they both took in the familiar sight before them. A familiar glossy black head, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Bronzed skin hidden beneath a starched white dress shirt, enviable chest now adorned with a necktie and layers of cloth. He glanced up at them, his eyes dull and unseeing as he twirled a pen between fingers used to holding a sword.

“Well?” he demanded in a human voice, one eyebrow lifting in an echo of his usual arrogance.

Orlin jerked forward a step or two. “Cam -” he choked out before realising what Camulus saw, two strangers standing in his office. “Drop it,” he said roughly, turning his head to look at Phoebe. Her eyes wide and not trusting her own voice at the moment, she dropped the glamour on both of them.

Camulus was on his feet before Orlin could turn his head back, his jaw hanging a bit slack as he seemed to drink in the sight of the other man. “Orlin . . .” he said in a low voice, unbelieving.

Orlin swallowed and nodded. “Camulus.”

The ex-god came around the desk in long strides, sweeping Orlin up into a tight hug, burying one hand in his shaggy hair as the other held him as closely as he could. Phoebe’s hands went up to cover her mouth and her eyes filled with tears as Orlin let out a sound that could have been a choked sob, clinging to Camulus just as tightly. She felt decidedly awkward, intruding on this private moment as Camulus pulled back to look at Orlin and murmured something that ended in “m’ fhear bheag,” drawing another choked sob from Orlin. Then Camulus lifted his head to look at her, extending one arm to draw her into the hug and she went willingly.

“Phoebe,” he muttered, hugging her tightly. “A ghraidh, you shouldn’t be here. Neither of you should.” With this thought he released them abruptly, stepping away. “Now quickly, turn around and walk out of here. Not to be dramatic, but while you still can.”

“Not without you,” Orlin said firmly, stepping right back into him, cuddling into his side. “You’re coming with us, Camulus. We aren’t afraid of Baal.”

“You should be,” the Goa’uld growled, but he didn’t move away again. “You should both be. I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

“Well we feel the same way,” Phoebe piped up. “You didn’t have to leave us, you know. We could have defended ourselves.”

“For how long?” Camulus demanded. “How many times could you have ended up hurt or worse? All Baal would need would be one chance, one lucky shot. I’m not going to give him that.”

“So instead you just walked away and left me?” Orlin demanded. “Left us? I knew you were just another stupid, power hungry, dishonest, sneaky Goa’uld.” He advanced on Camulus with every adjective, jabbing a finger into his chest. “But dammit, you’re a stupid Goa’uld I had the misfortune of falling in love with. And I am not going to let that go without a fight.”

“You arrogant -” Camulus’s answering tirade was cut off by the ringing of his phone and he stilled. “That’s Baal. Both of you be quiet,” he growled, stalking over to the desk and hitting the accept button. “Yes?”

“Ah, Camulus,” Baal’s super-smooth tones rang forth. Orlin’s hands automatically clenched into fists at the sound of it, fury beginning to rise. “I understand you’re entertaining clients at the moment?”

“Yes, Baal, we were just wrapping up,” Camulus growled in reply.

“Come now, don’t be like that.” Baal was positively jovial. “Would you care to join me in my office when you’re finished?”

“Yes, Baal.”

“Splendid.” Click!

Camulus straightened. “You both have to leave, now,” he growled in a low tone.

“You’re coming with us,” Orlin repeated stubbornly.

“I’ll meet you tonight,” Camulus promised. “Subway stop at Third and Richmont, eight o’clock. Now please, before you’re discovered.” He began ushering them towards the door.

Orlin nodded, allowing that much. “Alright. But you had better be there.” While Camulus was looking at him like that, his eyes dark and haunted, Orlin couldn’t resist. He grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him down for a kiss. Months of worry, distraction, anger, and love made him kiss Camulus with all of the usual passion and none of the usual flirtation. He pulled away after a few seconds, unable to stand it any more.

Camulus looked rather shocked. At least, that was what the rapid blinking usually indicated. That and the slack jaw and the utter inability to move. Phoebe recognised the look. She had seen it on Cole’s face more than a couple of times. With a little smirk, she restored the glamour on both of them and stepped out of the office.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. McCool,” she said for the benefit of the office drones.

“Pleasure,” he grumbled, recovering enough to shake both their hands cordially and professionally in full view of the office before Mr. Carter and Ms. Mars turned and walked away.

Phoebe squeaked and clutched at Orlin’s arm as they crossed the lobby, and he followed her gaze to the impeccably tailored man talking to the security guard. His eyes went flat. Baal. Only the fact that Camulus was here and safe and meeting them later kept him from breaking cover and throttling the Goa’uld with everything he had.

“Eyes forward,” he said, sotto voice. “Don’t let anything show.”

Phoebe glanced at him and saw his clenched jaw, his fingers curling into a fist at his side, and nodded, trying not to stare at the evil goatee man as they passed him.

Baal’s eyes followed the pair out of the building, narrowing slightly. “Who were they?” he asked, still looking after them.

“Uh, Sam Carter and Veronica Mars,” the guard replied, checking his list. “They had an appointment with Mr. McCool.”

“When was the appointment made?”

Some more checking. “Two days ago.”

Baal’s lips narrowed into a thin line. “Hmm. Call me the second those two show their faces again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Camulus was pacing. It wasn’t something he did often, but he had felt the need to pace since Orlin - Orlin! - had left his office that morning. Orlin and Phoebe had come to see him. He should be furious, he should be angry at them for disobeying him, for putting themselves in danger. And really all that he felt was glad. Pure joy. Still, he had to get them out of harm’s way before Baal discovered them. He hadn’t said anything during their meeting, but there was a smirk and something in his eyes . . .

So Camulus paced in the shadows of the subway stop - now used for movie sets and drug deals - his suit jacket thrown over one shoulder and his collar unbuttoned. He paced and he waited and he checked his watch and at two minutes after the hour, Orlin came clattering down the stairs from the surface.

“Camulus! Thank god you’re - mmmrph!”

There was only one thing that could make Orlin shut up as completely and utterly as he did at that moment. And that was Camulus, pressing him against the wall and kissing him fiercely. Orlin moaned and Camulus took advantage, his tongue slipping between his lips as Orlin’s arms came up around him, fingers twining in Camulus’s dark hair. Camulus’s hands bunched the fabric of the smaller man’s shirt as they kissed, their bodies striving for more contact.

A few minutes later, a second figure followed Orlin down the stairs, shoving things back in her bag. “Orlin, I put a warding spell on - whoa!” Phoebe back-pedalled a few steps, trying to find something else to look at. “I’ll just, um, be back up . . . looking out . . .” she stammered, blushing furiously.

Camulus broke the kiss hurriedly, Orlin still leaning into him as he pulled back. The blond man looked rather dazed, his mouth hanging open and his eyes a bit glazed over. Camulus allowed himself a lingering look before stepping away and collecting his abandoned jacket. Orlin went with him, weaselling his way under Camulus’s arm and clinging to his side in the move that would have once elicited a growl and a hasty exit on the part of the Goa’uld. Now he simply put his arm around Orlin as the echo returned to his voice.

“Now, both of you. Answers,” he demanded. “How did you find me and what made you think coming to see me was a good idea?”

Phoebe and Orlin looked at each other. “He found you,” Phoebe blurted out. “I just came along for the ride.”

Orlin ‘eep’ed and shrank into Camulus’s side as the Look was turned on him. “I asked around, built a thing . . .” He waved one hand rather vaguely. “You know. Stuff. Happened.” He added something in a mutter that could have been, “Clay helped.”

The Look was fixed equally on them now. “Which leads me back to my second question - have you both lost your minds?” Camulus growled. “I left for a reason. I told you not to follow me.”

“Orlin had a security feed,” Phoebe said. “We saw what happened, with Baal. And how he threatened us to make you go away. Which, by the way, was an extremely stupid move. Don’t you think that Orlin and I could take care of ourselves?”

“No, I didn’t,” Camulus shot back. “I didn’t want to think about you having to defend yourself because of me. Because I couldn’t protect you all the time. Because he would just need one chance. Because I didn’t want you to live in fear because of me.”

“And they say all Goa’uld are born evil . . .” Orlin smirked, even as he snuggled.

“We are.” Camulus loftily ignored the snuggling and Phoebe was caught by a sudden fit of giggles that she hurriedly turned into a cough.

“He’s right, you know,” a new voice put in and, with suitable dramatic flair and impeccable fashion sense and timing, Baal stepped out from behind a pillar and stood facing them between them and the stairs, effectively cutting off their exit. The only accent to his black-on-black ensemble was the gold hand device, making its existence stand out even more. Phoebe and Orlin would never be sure how they both ended up behind Camulus without moving, but they were. The god of war was standing before them with his hands outspread, waiting for an attack.

“Baal,” Camulus snarled.

“Very good, you recognise me. We haven’t, after all, seen each other in nearly four hours,” Baal replied snidely, stalking towards them with a sneer firmly in place. “How adorable. A tender reunion.” He focused on Phoebe, his sneer becoming a lofty smirk. “So this is the scrap you call a First Prime.”

“I am his First Prime,” Phoebe retorted, still having no idea exactly what that was.”

“Really?” Baal pretended surprised. “How fascinating. I see no mark, no brand burned into your flesh. Have you led his forces into battle? Have you killed for your precious god?”

“Leave her alone.” Orlin managed to get it out before Camulus, pushing past the Goa’uld before him to face off against Baal.

“And you would be the plaything,” Baal continued smoothly, switching his whole attention to Orlin as if Phoebe weren’t worth his time, even as she clenched her fists and saw red. Baal circled Orlin once, his eyes cold and appraising, before finally coming to a stop, stroking his chin. “A planet full of beautiful women, and this is the best you can do?”

He was so intent on his mockery that he completely missed the fist that connected powerfully with his jaw, sending him staggering back a few steps. With a snarl, Baal turned, bringing up the hand device and blasting Camulus across the station, his path halted by a tiled pillar. Camulus crumpled to the ground as tiles tumbled around him, a crack running through the cement.

“Camulus!” Phoebe squeaked and rushed over, Orlin right behind her. They helped Camulus into a sitting position as he shook his head a bit groggily.

His head came up to scowl at Baal, who was having a good evil laugh over the whole thing. “Are you going to kill them now?” he growled. He curled one leg beneath himself, pushing himself up on willpower and not much else. Orlin ducked his shoulder under his arm, helping him up without being asked and knowing it wasn’t wanted.

“Why would I kill them?” Baal asked mildly, buffing his nails and peering at them for invisible spots. “At the moment their deaths would serve no purpose. Well, for me at least. If I were to kill them both, right now, you would simply kill me - or try - and I am out a System Lord. And wouldn’t that be a terrible waste.” He covered the distance between them in a few quick steps, his hand curling in the front of Camulus’s shirt.

Camulus was taller than Baal was, and at the moment they were almost matched in scariness. Camulus was bleeding from a small cut above his eye, his hair had come loose from its tie and hung around his face, which was contorted in a snarl of rage. But Baal was cold and precise and terrifying in his own way.

“As long as you work for me, they are unharmed,” he said, his voice clipped. “You live, I live, they live. It’s the ideal situation all around.”

“And what if I were to kill you?” Camulus snarled, and Phoebe looked at him, a little afraid. There was a lot of talk of killing going on.

Baal smiled, tilting his head a bit. “Come now, my dear Camulus. You’d have to find me, first. Can you really kill every single one of me before I got to them?”

“Wait - what?” Orlin and Phoebe exclaimed in unison.

“He cloned himself,” Camulus growled, swiping Baal’s hand away and straightening, taking his weight off Orlin but keeping his arm around him. “I don’t know how many there are. If I kill one, another will kill you. It’s the way of blood feuds. My people’s proud heritage.” This last spit out almost bitterly.

“You always were one of the cleverest war gods I knew,” Baal smirked. He spun on his heel and stalked towards the door, tossing a wave over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow morning.”

As soon as he was gone, Orlin took charge of the situation. “Phoebe, I’ll fly you back to Fandom now. Camulus, give me your address and then go home and get in that evil box. I heard the sound your spine made when you stood up.”

Camulus blinked. “No. No, Orlin, you are going to go with Phoebe -”

“I am not leaving you,” Orlin cut him off firmly, turning to face him and framing his face between his hands. “I’m not happy about the situation and I would much prefer cutting off all ties with that bastard Baal, but if this is how I get to have you I am staying. I love you.”

Phoebe’s hand crept up to cover her mouth, tears pricking at her eyes as Camulus and Orlin stared at each for a long moment, a silent debate going on. Finally Camulus nodded, a bare movement of his head up and down. “Alright,” he said, his voice rough. “Alright, you can stay.”

Orlin grinned, flinging his arms around Camulus’s neck. “As if you could keep me away.”

“You’re more annoying than those dratted mimoths,” Camulus growled, using the insults to hide the fact that he was feeling most un-Goa’uld-y at the moment.

“And just as hard to get rid of!” Orlin agreed without missing a beat. He moved back a bit, sobering. “We’ll make this work, Cam. We have to.”

Camulus nodded. “I know, m’ fhear bheag. I know.”

And our curtain closes on a long, drawn out, dip-included, Hollywood-style kiss. There might even have been a foot pop involved.