Fic: No Souvenirs 2/2, Cam/Evan, NC-17
Title: No Souvenirs
Author: Rubygirl29
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Sanctuary
Pairing: Cam/Evan, Helen Magnus, Samantha Carter
Rating:NC-17, m/m sex
Prompt: hc_bingo Wild Card. Build up of job-related trauma
Author's Note: I couldn't resist a SG-1/Sanctuary crossover with Helen Magnus. I hope I'm not too far off base with this!
No Souvenirs
He let Sam drive him home. He drew the line at being escorted to the door. It was his home, and he was fine. He didn't need a babysitter. Sam looked like she was about to mount an argument, but gave up when she realized how ridiculous it would be to follow him in like he was a helpless invalid. "Take care," she said and left him at the foot of his drive by the mailbox.
He retrieved the morning newspaper and a stash of junk mail -- anything important made its way to his box at SGC -- and opened the door. He had been away longer than usual. His neighbor had been checking up on things and watering his plants, which his mom seemed to think made a house a home. Cam didn't want to tell her how many he had dumped into the trash after returning from a mission to find them dried out and wizened from neglect. It was the job, he sighed, though it would be kind of ironic for a farmer's kid to have a black thumb. When he was born, his father hadn't been a farmer; he'd been a pilot. One of the best. His head gave a throb at the memory and he had to force himself to take a deep breath. A scar, Magnus had said, and Cam knew that scars took a while to heal.
He went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. The house was too quiet. He turned on the TV and found a football game to watch. Not his teams, but it was the sound of voices he sought, not entertainment. He started reading through his newspapers. He was halfway through the editorials when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the display; an unfamiliar number with a local area code. Probably political. He ignored it. A few seconds later, the phone rang again. The same number. "I'm not interested," he said.
"Really?" The voice was wry, humorous. Unmistakable.
"Where are you?" Cam asked, his heart suddenly alive and joyous.
"At the Pegasus. In the last public phone booth in Colorado Springs."
"Don't move. I'll be right there."
"Don't I even get a hello?"
"Hello. Goodby. On my way. Don't move!" Cam reached for his car keys and then remembered the Mustang was at Cheyenne Mountain. Good thing the pub was only two city blocks from his condo, and the weather was perfect. Not that it mattered. For Evan Lorne, Cam would have walked to the ends of the earth and back.
Evan was leaning against the anachronistic British-style phone booth that he jokingly called "The Tardis." His hands were shoved into his pockets. He wore jeans, a dark blue knit henley and a USAF hooded sweatshirt; twin to the one Cam wore. The golden leaves of the tree in front of the Pegasus drifted down, catching on his dark hair and one balancing on the toe of his boot like a butterfly. Cam took a mental picture to file in his memory. He wished, just this once, that he had the Galeran device to permantly fix it in his mind. Evan looked up, smiled, and Cam knew he wouldn't forget.
They hugged briefly, just two fellow soldiers grateful to find each other alive. "Want some lunch? A beer?"
"Not really." Evan grinned.
"My place?" Cam didn't care that Lorne could see the heat of a blush on his cheeks.
"Yeah. Now that sounds like a plan."
They walked quickly, shoulders just brushing, not speaking. Cam opened the door and grabbed Lorne, spinning him back against the door, gripping his shoulders, leaning in for a kiss. Lorne dodged away. "Hold it, Cam!"
"What?"
"I said, hold it. Just give me, give yourself, a minute, okay?" Evan took a few steps into the living room.
Cam was shaking. "Is there something you want to tell me?" He felt sick. On top of the last month, the last thing he needed to hear was 'good-bye.' His knees buckled and he sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. The throb of memories flashed behind his eyes. "God!"
He felt the give of the cushions. Evan's arm came around his shoulders. "Easy, Cam. Jeez, if you'd give me a chance to say a few words before you jump to all the wrong conclusions, it might help."
The headache subsided and Cam relaxed against the back of the sofa and Evan's arm. "Okay, let's start with what are you doing here?"
"I'm not going to say I just happened to stop by on my way to another planet. I mean, I did, kind of, but Colonel Carter contacted me and said you might like to see me."
"Leave it to Sam," Cam gave a breath of laughter.
"I gated in and she gave me a batch of mission reports to read. When I was done, she told me you were in the hospital."
"I had insomnia," Cam sighed. "That's all."
"Right. A blind man could see that's all that's wrong with you." Lorne's sarcasm was tempered by the gentle draw of his fingers down Cam's cheek. "Tell me about it?"
"First, let's talk about you."
"Me? I'm dull. Same old, same old."
There was never any such thing as the same old in their world, Cam thought. He touched a scar on Evan's temple, another one tracing along his neck. "Tell me."
Because it was easier than arguing, Lorne told him about what life was like on other planets as a mining engineer; how he had finally been called back to SGC to train on the Prometheus, only to discover the tragic loss. How he was kind of stuck with SG-12 until the new ship, to be commanded by Colonel Steven Caldwell, was completed. Cam listened, trying not to think too much about how close Evan had been to dying more than once. Hadn't he been there himself? In the long run, wasn't that what being active duty military was all about?
Cam smiled a bit, turned his head. Evan's mouth had a sweet, serious curve to it. "How are you sleeping?" he asked, seeing the shadows beneath Lorne's eyes.
"Not so good," he admitted, "but I'm sleeping, which is more than you were doing."
"Sam is a snitch."
"Lucky for you," Lorne said. His thumb played over Cam's knuckles. "The alternatives sounded pretty grim. So, talk to me."
Reluctant as he was, he found talking to Evan easier than talking to Magnus, to Sam, to Daniel. When he told Evan about the Galeran memory device and how it had been used to turn his own memories against him, Evan looked like he would have killed Marell with his bare hands. Cam told him everything -- every fear, every sadness, every scar of guilt the device had carved into his psyche. When he had finished, he was exhausted. He scrubbed at his reddened eyes, feeling the ache of suppressed tears and painful memories.
"You need to sleep," Evan said. He rose, held out his hand. "Come on. Let's go to bed."
"Dinner?" Avoidance was a strategy, right?
"Dinner later. Sleep now." He pulled Cam up to his feet, wrapped his arm around his waist. "Bedroom."
"You're a man of few words."
"Only when I'm tired," Evan said. He lowered the blinds against the late afternoon sun. He pulled the covers down, untied his boots, then Cam's. Cam was suddenly too tired to do more than get prone and close his eyes. He felt Evan curl around his body; all hard warmth and a scent of fresh air and soap. "Feels good ..." he sighed and for the first time in weeks, slept deeply without drugs.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
When he woke, the room was dark and Evan was gone from the bed. The only light leaked in through the slightly open door. Cam would have thought he had imagined everything, but the aroma of cooking made him sit up. He was hungry, something he hadn't been for a while. He hadn't stopped eating, but somewhere along the way, he had stopped tasting his food -- not that most of it had been worth tasting. He went into the kitchen where Evan was standing over the stove. He was very glad that sight wasn't part of some residual memory.
"That smells amazing," he said. He stood behind Evan, his arm around his waist. Solid, strong. There. Spaghetti sauce was bubbling away on the burner. He hadn't even known he had the fixings in his pantry.
"You hungry?"
"Starving." He whispered in Lorne's ear, "Feed me."
Lorne laughed. "I can do that." He handed Cam a bottle of wine. "Are you taking anything that this will interact with?"
"Nope. No drugs. I have some, but I don't need them. Not tonight."
Lorne narrowed his eyes. "Mitchell, the only action you're getting tonight is sleep. Open the wine and let's eat."
Later, sitting on the couch with his head cushioned on Evan's lap,Cam felt the tension that had been woven into his muscle memory leaving him. Evan's hand was warm on his chest even through his sweater. "Why is it so easy with you?" Cam murmured, knowing the answer but wanting to hear Evan say it.
Lorne raised a brow. "Because you don't have to be Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell, the big Goddamn hero of SG-1. That's always got to be on your mind even when you're off duty. With me, you're just Cam. That's all you have to be."
"That's good enough for you?"
"God, yes." Evan bent and kissed Cam's forehead. "It's more than I ever expected. You know that."
"Yeah. Me, too." He closed his eyes. "I could sleep," he said.
"Not here, or you'll wake up with a crick in your neck and a sore back." Lorne was right. Cam sat up, yawned and stretched in an open invitation for Evan to slide an arm around his waist. "Let's go to bed," Evan said, tipping his head just a bit for a kiss.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
There were worse ways to wake up than with Lorne's smooth warm skin against his back, his arm heavy over his waist. Cam looked at the clock and blinked in disbelief. He had slept for eight solid hours; no meds, no dreams, just sweet healing rest. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. He sighed, moved and turned to face Evan. Blue eyes fluttered open, dimples deepened in a sleepy smile. Cam moved closer. Evan's morning erection was pressed against his thigh. "I'm feeling much better," he whispered, lips brushing Lorne's.
Evan drew back slightly to better focus on Cam's face. He nodded. "I can see that." He palmed Cam's hard cock. "Feel it, too."
"Thank God," Cam breathed. "If I had to wait another minute longer for this, they'd have to drag me back to the looney bin."
Evan snorted. "You weren't in the looney bin."
"Near enough. I really, really don't want to talk right now."
They didn't talk. Cam stripped off his sleep pants, then Lorne's. Their bodies fit with ease; cocks nestled close, intimate and moist as they kissed deeply. Cam stretched out Evan's arms, licked the slight saltiness of his skin, cooled it with his breath and smiled when Evan squirmed at the sensation. "Be still ..." he whispered. "Let me do this."
Whether it was the need to take control, to drive out the last of his fears, or to ground himself to Evan, the one memory that the Galerans had left unsullied, Cam's lovemaking was slow, heavy with pleasure and sweet as a pour of honey. Possessive.
He tasted, touched, sucked and kissed the taste of their mingling into Evan's mouth, and when he was slick and open, ready for Cam, he pushed inside Evan's body, losing himself in the tightness and the heat. His hands spanned Evan's pelvis and he rocked into him, his flushed cheek against Evan's back, feeling him thrum with sexual tension. Cam forced himself to draw back and push in slowly. Evan's breath hitched with every move and he uttered a sound that might have been a curse or a prayer.
It was more than Cam could bear, hearing that naked need and raw power. He rocked into Evan, felt the quivering orgasm break and the hot spurt of semen spill over his hand. His own climax crashed through him as he muffled his own cry against Lorne's back. Nothing felt like this; no wild dive through the gate, no launch from an F-302, no rush of adrenaline from a fight well-fought. Only love.
He waited as his cock softened, then withdrew reluctantly. He spooned Lorne, waiting for the beat of his heart to slow and feeling the quickness of Lorne's heartbeat against his chest until they were both breathing quietly again.
He moved to the side so Evan could breathe. He just stretched out an arm, held Cam next to him. "Don't move," he whispered. "Stay. Sleep."
Cam moved the damp sheets that smelled like sex and Evan. He kissed the back of Evan's neck and closed his eyes. A little more sleep wouldn't hurt.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Two weeks later Cam stood at the ramp to the Stargate. He and Evan had gone to the mountains as soon as Cam's headaches diminished. They spent several days in the wild; hiking and camping out until the weather turned suddenly colder. They rented a cabin at the edge of a national park and spent two days there, lounging by a fieldstone fireplace, eating meals at the nearby lodge, making love under piles of warm blankets. By the time they returned to Colorado Springs, Cam was rested and refreshed. The last effects of the Galeran device had faded to insignificance. They hadn't been home for five hours when Lorne received his orders to report for duty. They scarcely had time for a hasty, passionate leave-taking before they left for the SGC.
They stood in the corridor leading to the gateroom, no privacy for anything but a quick, impersonal hug, a furtive touch of Cam's thumb on Evan's wrist, a quick ghost of warm breath on Cam's throat as Evan leaned in to say good-bye.
It was frustrating, heart-breaking. Sometimes, Cam felt that he owed Lorne a favor in return for all the times Evan had been there for him. How did you pay back the favor of a life saved? Evan wouldn't ask for anything in return but a place to stay, a warm bed, and love. They knew where to find each other. Then he was through the door and Cam was alone. Alone until, Sam saw him and dragged him off to the infirmary for evaluation.
Caroline Lam pronounced him fit to return to duty; this time with no reservations at all about his mental or physical health. He didn't have Lorne, but he had this, he thought standing at the gate. No matter how often he went through it, it was still awe-inspiring.
"So, are you ready?" Sam asked him.
"I'm champing at the bit." Cam tried to be laconic, but judging from the look on Sam's face, he was failing.
"I can see that." Her elbow bumped his.
He looked at Teal'c, Daniel, Sam. "Okay, let's go save the universe."
"How about we just go see what's going on with PX-051?" Jackson said. "This time, we'll skip the souvenirs."
"That, too." Cam grinned. Briefly, a ghost of a memory touched his mind, then faded like mist in the sun. "Hit it, Walter."
The gate sequence dialed, the iris erupted, settled, and they stepped through. It was all good.
The End
Author: Rubygirl29
Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Sanctuary
Pairing: Cam/Evan, Helen Magnus, Samantha Carter
Rating:NC-17, m/m sex
Prompt: hc_bingo Wild Card. Build up of job-related trauma
Author's Note: I couldn't resist a SG-1/Sanctuary crossover with Helen Magnus. I hope I'm not too far off base with this!
No Souvenirs
He let Sam drive him home. He drew the line at being escorted to the door. It was his home, and he was fine. He didn't need a babysitter. Sam looked like she was about to mount an argument, but gave up when she realized how ridiculous it would be to follow him in like he was a helpless invalid. "Take care," she said and left him at the foot of his drive by the mailbox.
He retrieved the morning newspaper and a stash of junk mail -- anything important made its way to his box at SGC -- and opened the door. He had been away longer than usual. His neighbor had been checking up on things and watering his plants, which his mom seemed to think made a house a home. Cam didn't want to tell her how many he had dumped into the trash after returning from a mission to find them dried out and wizened from neglect. It was the job, he sighed, though it would be kind of ironic for a farmer's kid to have a black thumb. When he was born, his father hadn't been a farmer; he'd been a pilot. One of the best. His head gave a throb at the memory and he had to force himself to take a deep breath. A scar, Magnus had said, and Cam knew that scars took a while to heal.
He went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. The house was too quiet. He turned on the TV and found a football game to watch. Not his teams, but it was the sound of voices he sought, not entertainment. He started reading through his newspapers. He was halfway through the editorials when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the display; an unfamiliar number with a local area code. Probably political. He ignored it. A few seconds later, the phone rang again. The same number. "I'm not interested," he said.
"Really?" The voice was wry, humorous. Unmistakable.
"Where are you?" Cam asked, his heart suddenly alive and joyous.
"At the Pegasus. In the last public phone booth in Colorado Springs."
"Don't move. I'll be right there."
"Don't I even get a hello?"
"Hello. Goodby. On my way. Don't move!" Cam reached for his car keys and then remembered the Mustang was at Cheyenne Mountain. Good thing the pub was only two city blocks from his condo, and the weather was perfect. Not that it mattered. For Evan Lorne, Cam would have walked to the ends of the earth and back.
Evan was leaning against the anachronistic British-style phone booth that he jokingly called "The Tardis." His hands were shoved into his pockets. He wore jeans, a dark blue knit henley and a USAF hooded sweatshirt; twin to the one Cam wore. The golden leaves of the tree in front of the Pegasus drifted down, catching on his dark hair and one balancing on the toe of his boot like a butterfly. Cam took a mental picture to file in his memory. He wished, just this once, that he had the Galeran device to permantly fix it in his mind. Evan looked up, smiled, and Cam knew he wouldn't forget.
They hugged briefly, just two fellow soldiers grateful to find each other alive. "Want some lunch? A beer?"
"Not really." Evan grinned.
"My place?" Cam didn't care that Lorne could see the heat of a blush on his cheeks.
"Yeah. Now that sounds like a plan."
They walked quickly, shoulders just brushing, not speaking. Cam opened the door and grabbed Lorne, spinning him back against the door, gripping his shoulders, leaning in for a kiss. Lorne dodged away. "Hold it, Cam!"
"What?"
"I said, hold it. Just give me, give yourself, a minute, okay?" Evan took a few steps into the living room.
Cam was shaking. "Is there something you want to tell me?" He felt sick. On top of the last month, the last thing he needed to hear was 'good-bye.' His knees buckled and he sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. The throb of memories flashed behind his eyes. "God!"
He felt the give of the cushions. Evan's arm came around his shoulders. "Easy, Cam. Jeez, if you'd give me a chance to say a few words before you jump to all the wrong conclusions, it might help."
The headache subsided and Cam relaxed against the back of the sofa and Evan's arm. "Okay, let's start with what are you doing here?"
"I'm not going to say I just happened to stop by on my way to another planet. I mean, I did, kind of, but Colonel Carter contacted me and said you might like to see me."
"Leave it to Sam," Cam gave a breath of laughter.
"I gated in and she gave me a batch of mission reports to read. When I was done, she told me you were in the hospital."
"I had insomnia," Cam sighed. "That's all."
"Right. A blind man could see that's all that's wrong with you." Lorne's sarcasm was tempered by the gentle draw of his fingers down Cam's cheek. "Tell me about it?"
"First, let's talk about you."
"Me? I'm dull. Same old, same old."
There was never any such thing as the same old in their world, Cam thought. He touched a scar on Evan's temple, another one tracing along his neck. "Tell me."
Because it was easier than arguing, Lorne told him about what life was like on other planets as a mining engineer; how he had finally been called back to SGC to train on the Prometheus, only to discover the tragic loss. How he was kind of stuck with SG-12 until the new ship, to be commanded by Colonel Steven Caldwell, was completed. Cam listened, trying not to think too much about how close Evan had been to dying more than once. Hadn't he been there himself? In the long run, wasn't that what being active duty military was all about?
Cam smiled a bit, turned his head. Evan's mouth had a sweet, serious curve to it. "How are you sleeping?" he asked, seeing the shadows beneath Lorne's eyes.
"Not so good," he admitted, "but I'm sleeping, which is more than you were doing."
"Sam is a snitch."
"Lucky for you," Lorne said. His thumb played over Cam's knuckles. "The alternatives sounded pretty grim. So, talk to me."
Reluctant as he was, he found talking to Evan easier than talking to Magnus, to Sam, to Daniel. When he told Evan about the Galeran memory device and how it had been used to turn his own memories against him, Evan looked like he would have killed Marell with his bare hands. Cam told him everything -- every fear, every sadness, every scar of guilt the device had carved into his psyche. When he had finished, he was exhausted. He scrubbed at his reddened eyes, feeling the ache of suppressed tears and painful memories.
"You need to sleep," Evan said. He rose, held out his hand. "Come on. Let's go to bed."
"Dinner?" Avoidance was a strategy, right?
"Dinner later. Sleep now." He pulled Cam up to his feet, wrapped his arm around his waist. "Bedroom."
"You're a man of few words."
"Only when I'm tired," Evan said. He lowered the blinds against the late afternoon sun. He pulled the covers down, untied his boots, then Cam's. Cam was suddenly too tired to do more than get prone and close his eyes. He felt Evan curl around his body; all hard warmth and a scent of fresh air and soap. "Feels good ..." he sighed and for the first time in weeks, slept deeply without drugs.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
When he woke, the room was dark and Evan was gone from the bed. The only light leaked in through the slightly open door. Cam would have thought he had imagined everything, but the aroma of cooking made him sit up. He was hungry, something he hadn't been for a while. He hadn't stopped eating, but somewhere along the way, he had stopped tasting his food -- not that most of it had been worth tasting. He went into the kitchen where Evan was standing over the stove. He was very glad that sight wasn't part of some residual memory.
"That smells amazing," he said. He stood behind Evan, his arm around his waist. Solid, strong. There. Spaghetti sauce was bubbling away on the burner. He hadn't even known he had the fixings in his pantry.
"You hungry?"
"Starving." He whispered in Lorne's ear, "Feed me."
Lorne laughed. "I can do that." He handed Cam a bottle of wine. "Are you taking anything that this will interact with?"
"Nope. No drugs. I have some, but I don't need them. Not tonight."
Lorne narrowed his eyes. "Mitchell, the only action you're getting tonight is sleep. Open the wine and let's eat."
Later, sitting on the couch with his head cushioned on Evan's lap,Cam felt the tension that had been woven into his muscle memory leaving him. Evan's hand was warm on his chest even through his sweater. "Why is it so easy with you?" Cam murmured, knowing the answer but wanting to hear Evan say it.
Lorne raised a brow. "Because you don't have to be Lt. Colonel Cameron Mitchell, the big Goddamn hero of SG-1. That's always got to be on your mind even when you're off duty. With me, you're just Cam. That's all you have to be."
"That's good enough for you?"
"God, yes." Evan bent and kissed Cam's forehead. "It's more than I ever expected. You know that."
"Yeah. Me, too." He closed his eyes. "I could sleep," he said.
"Not here, or you'll wake up with a crick in your neck and a sore back." Lorne was right. Cam sat up, yawned and stretched in an open invitation for Evan to slide an arm around his waist. "Let's go to bed," Evan said, tipping his head just a bit for a kiss.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
There were worse ways to wake up than with Lorne's smooth warm skin against his back, his arm heavy over his waist. Cam looked at the clock and blinked in disbelief. He had slept for eight solid hours; no meds, no dreams, just sweet healing rest. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. He sighed, moved and turned to face Evan. Blue eyes fluttered open, dimples deepened in a sleepy smile. Cam moved closer. Evan's morning erection was pressed against his thigh. "I'm feeling much better," he whispered, lips brushing Lorne's.
Evan drew back slightly to better focus on Cam's face. He nodded. "I can see that." He palmed Cam's hard cock. "Feel it, too."
"Thank God," Cam breathed. "If I had to wait another minute longer for this, they'd have to drag me back to the looney bin."
Evan snorted. "You weren't in the looney bin."
"Near enough. I really, really don't want to talk right now."
They didn't talk. Cam stripped off his sleep pants, then Lorne's. Their bodies fit with ease; cocks nestled close, intimate and moist as they kissed deeply. Cam stretched out Evan's arms, licked the slight saltiness of his skin, cooled it with his breath and smiled when Evan squirmed at the sensation. "Be still ..." he whispered. "Let me do this."
Whether it was the need to take control, to drive out the last of his fears, or to ground himself to Evan, the one memory that the Galerans had left unsullied, Cam's lovemaking was slow, heavy with pleasure and sweet as a pour of honey. Possessive.
He tasted, touched, sucked and kissed the taste of their mingling into Evan's mouth, and when he was slick and open, ready for Cam, he pushed inside Evan's body, losing himself in the tightness and the heat. His hands spanned Evan's pelvis and he rocked into him, his flushed cheek against Evan's back, feeling him thrum with sexual tension. Cam forced himself to draw back and push in slowly. Evan's breath hitched with every move and he uttered a sound that might have been a curse or a prayer.
It was more than Cam could bear, hearing that naked need and raw power. He rocked into Evan, felt the quivering orgasm break and the hot spurt of semen spill over his hand. His own climax crashed through him as he muffled his own cry against Lorne's back. Nothing felt like this; no wild dive through the gate, no launch from an F-302, no rush of adrenaline from a fight well-fought. Only love.
He waited as his cock softened, then withdrew reluctantly. He spooned Lorne, waiting for the beat of his heart to slow and feeling the quickness of Lorne's heartbeat against his chest until they were both breathing quietly again.
He moved to the side so Evan could breathe. He just stretched out an arm, held Cam next to him. "Don't move," he whispered. "Stay. Sleep."
Cam moved the damp sheets that smelled like sex and Evan. He kissed the back of Evan's neck and closed his eyes. A little more sleep wouldn't hurt.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Two weeks later Cam stood at the ramp to the Stargate. He and Evan had gone to the mountains as soon as Cam's headaches diminished. They spent several days in the wild; hiking and camping out until the weather turned suddenly colder. They rented a cabin at the edge of a national park and spent two days there, lounging by a fieldstone fireplace, eating meals at the nearby lodge, making love under piles of warm blankets. By the time they returned to Colorado Springs, Cam was rested and refreshed. The last effects of the Galeran device had faded to insignificance. They hadn't been home for five hours when Lorne received his orders to report for duty. They scarcely had time for a hasty, passionate leave-taking before they left for the SGC.
They stood in the corridor leading to the gateroom, no privacy for anything but a quick, impersonal hug, a furtive touch of Cam's thumb on Evan's wrist, a quick ghost of warm breath on Cam's throat as Evan leaned in to say good-bye.
It was frustrating, heart-breaking. Sometimes, Cam felt that he owed Lorne a favor in return for all the times Evan had been there for him. How did you pay back the favor of a life saved? Evan wouldn't ask for anything in return but a place to stay, a warm bed, and love. They knew where to find each other. Then he was through the door and Cam was alone. Alone until, Sam saw him and dragged him off to the infirmary for evaluation.
Caroline Lam pronounced him fit to return to duty; this time with no reservations at all about his mental or physical health. He didn't have Lorne, but he had this, he thought standing at the gate. No matter how often he went through it, it was still awe-inspiring.
"So, are you ready?" Sam asked him.
"I'm champing at the bit." Cam tried to be laconic, but judging from the look on Sam's face, he was failing.
"I can see that." Her elbow bumped his.
He looked at Teal'c, Daniel, Sam. "Okay, let's go save the universe."
"How about we just go see what's going on with PX-051?" Jackson said. "This time, we'll skip the souvenirs."
"That, too." Cam grinned. Briefly, a ghost of a memory touched his mind, then faded like mist in the sun. "Hit it, Walter."
The gate sequence dialed, the iris erupted, settled, and they stepped through. It was all good.
The End