fic: Out in the Tranquil Bay (SG-1)
Title: Out in the Tranquil Bay
Rating: Rated PG
Pairing: Cameron Mitchell/Vala Mal Doran
Prompt: Dover Beach
Word Count: 1374
Notes: Written for sg_rarepairings 2009. Thanks to Mav for reading over it.
----
Atlantis is beautiful at night, but it feels wrong that the waters Cam is looking out into as he sits on the pier are the same ones his parents let him wade in as a child on vacation. The city is alien and in his mind the water surrounding it should be, too.
He's developed sort of a fondness for alien things, alien food, alien adventures. Alien women. He thinks of Reya, two years dead now, and the princess on PXT-335, of Vala and Teyla and all of the people in his life that he tends to forget were born on different planets.
Once upon a time his ideal in life had been something fresh and blonde with a sweet voice and shy eyes. Amy. He'd been in love with her in that sad, naive high school way. He'd carried the feeling with him for decades, tucking it away for the most part and occasionally pulling it back out and regarding it with fond nostalgia, another might have been. That year after his crash, back at his parents since he had no one else, he'd thought more about her than in the years before. His home town, a place he hadn't stayed at any length since graduation, had held memories of his teenage years at the turn of every corner.
Two years ago he'd seen her again and she'd been fresh-faced and beautiful, just like he remembered, but the lines around her eyes and the weariness in her voice hadn't been something his imagination had counted on. Their first kiss was their last, the burgeoning relationship faltering after a handful of phone calls and a few messages that he received days or weeks late. He almost wishes he'd never reconnected with her. He resents losing her as that memory of something that might have been. The teenager in him kicks and shouts, because Amy was supposed to be his ultimate, his untouchable perfect woman, he wasn't supposed to find her boring.
But he did. Her life was full of the mundane, working as a dental assistant and taking her kid to soccer practice and trying out new recipes for dinner. When she talked to him, he could practically hear her slotting him into his life. Potential lover, potential dad, potential second ex-husband. His life was anything but mundane and even if he had tried to fit that mold, they wouldn't have ever had much to talk about over dinner with all of the non-disclosure agreements he's had to sign.
So he's moved on, cataloged that experience and kept his interactions with planet-bound women to the occasional one night stand to satisfy his urges, as few and far between as those encounters are. He's got plenty besides that going for him. He's not hurting for excitement or danger, and adrenaline is almost as good a rush as sex. That's why he loved being a flyboy so much. That's why he wanted the SGC so much.
He hears footsteps behind him and cranes his neck around to see who is approaching. It's Vala, hair in a ponytail and feet bare. She sits down beside him and presses just a little too close, like she always does. He can feel the heat of her thigh on his, feel the bony bump of her shoulder against his. He bumps back, smiling.
"You look like you were thinking much too hard. Here, I brought you a beer." She hands him a cold bottle with a familiar label, his favorite kind. The Atlantis crew don't really want for any of their home grown pleasures anymore. If anything, the few original crew that remain seem wistful for Pegasus.
"Thanks." He says, twisting off his own cap and then hers when she tilts it toward him.
"Thank you." She smiles back at him. "So, what is it you're thinking much too hard about, Colonel Mitchell?"
He leans back with one palm flat on the deck. "I was just thinking about... life."
"What about life?"
He shrugs. "Being alone. Being lonely."
"Oh, are you lonely, Cameron? We could fix that." She gives him a wicked leer.
It makes him laugh. "I'm not too lonely, not most of the time. But I am alone."
"Cameron," Vala tuts. "I hadn't pegged you for one to mope."
"I'm not moping. Just thinking." He says, trying to stress the difference even when he's not sure it exactly exists. "And my thinking happen to turn to the fact that I haven't been out with any women besides you or Carter in about a year now."
"So? I happen to think Samantha and I are both lovely and fine women to be taking out." Vala says, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.
"That works better when your hair is down," he comments.
"Yes, I know." She makes a face. "Anyway, what's so wrong with Samantha and I?"
"Uh, Vala." He rolls his eyes. She looks at him blankly. "Vala, you know what I meant."
She smirks. She does, but she'll make him say it anyway. That's Vala for you. "No, I don't believe I do."
"I'm just saying, at the end of the night, I take you or Sam home."
He's already leaning back, so she leans forward. "You know, you don't have to take us home."
He winces. "Okay, drop the 'us', that's getting kind of kinky, and I think General O'Neill would have my nuts if I made any moves on Sam."
She puts her hand on his thigh. Her grin is wide, eyes so bright and pretty. He feels that low grade ache in his belly and in his groin. He's kind of used to it by now. Vala's sexy as hell and maybe Jackson's moved on but Cam's still used to shoving it away when he feels it. Everyone wants Vala; that's just a way of life, no need to linger on it. "So don't make any moves on Samantha. Make moves on me."
Well, that doesn't help at all. He lifts her hand up and removes it. "Come on, Vala, I thought you cut this out a while back."
She huffs and sits back, even scooting away from him. "Fine."
"What? What did I say?" She's got that look on her face, that one he actually is able to read now, finally, after almost three years of knowing her. The look that says she's actually a little bit hurt but she's trying to hide it. He's got enough of that good ole boy attitude left in him that he doesn't like hurting a girl's feelings, ever.
"Nothing." She insists, but he won't drop it. Finally, as she's standing and preparing to walk away, she says, "Did it ever occur to you that I'm lonely and might like a little bit of company, too?"
Actually, it hadn't, and he kind of feels like an ass for admitting it so he keeps it to himself. He reaches out and grabs her, tugs her back down to sitting. She lets him, which means she hadn't really wanted to leave to begin with. Vala is never that easily coaxed. "What, you saying if I didn't take you back to the base one night..."
She shrugs, a delicate little lift of her shoulders. Weird that she's so in your face, except when someone actually tries to prompt her. He reaches out and brushes away a wisp of hair that's escaped the clasp, tucking it behind her ear. The shy and somewhat happy smile she gives him makes him feel like he's on a date. He resists the urge to offer her his jacket.
"Fine. Maybe next time I won't." He says, taking another drink of his beer. He leans in to her this time, switching his beer to his left hand so he can put his right behind her, and hold his weight on it. His bicep brushes against her back and she takes the hint, leans against him and puts her head on his shoulder.
He takes in a deep breath, smells salt water and Vala's shampoo. Earth and alien, home and away, the Pacific and the Atlantis, him and Vala.
Rating: Rated PG
Pairing: Cameron Mitchell/Vala Mal Doran
Prompt: Dover Beach
Word Count: 1374
Notes: Written for sg_rarepairings 2009. Thanks to Mav for reading over it.
----
Atlantis is beautiful at night, but it feels wrong that the waters Cam is looking out into as he sits on the pier are the same ones his parents let him wade in as a child on vacation. The city is alien and in his mind the water surrounding it should be, too.
He's developed sort of a fondness for alien things, alien food, alien adventures. Alien women. He thinks of Reya, two years dead now, and the princess on PXT-335, of Vala and Teyla and all of the people in his life that he tends to forget were born on different planets.
Once upon a time his ideal in life had been something fresh and blonde with a sweet voice and shy eyes. Amy. He'd been in love with her in that sad, naive high school way. He'd carried the feeling with him for decades, tucking it away for the most part and occasionally pulling it back out and regarding it with fond nostalgia, another might have been. That year after his crash, back at his parents since he had no one else, he'd thought more about her than in the years before. His home town, a place he hadn't stayed at any length since graduation, had held memories of his teenage years at the turn of every corner.
Two years ago he'd seen her again and she'd been fresh-faced and beautiful, just like he remembered, but the lines around her eyes and the weariness in her voice hadn't been something his imagination had counted on. Their first kiss was their last, the burgeoning relationship faltering after a handful of phone calls and a few messages that he received days or weeks late. He almost wishes he'd never reconnected with her. He resents losing her as that memory of something that might have been. The teenager in him kicks and shouts, because Amy was supposed to be his ultimate, his untouchable perfect woman, he wasn't supposed to find her boring.
But he did. Her life was full of the mundane, working as a dental assistant and taking her kid to soccer practice and trying out new recipes for dinner. When she talked to him, he could practically hear her slotting him into his life. Potential lover, potential dad, potential second ex-husband. His life was anything but mundane and even if he had tried to fit that mold, they wouldn't have ever had much to talk about over dinner with all of the non-disclosure agreements he's had to sign.
So he's moved on, cataloged that experience and kept his interactions with planet-bound women to the occasional one night stand to satisfy his urges, as few and far between as those encounters are. He's got plenty besides that going for him. He's not hurting for excitement or danger, and adrenaline is almost as good a rush as sex. That's why he loved being a flyboy so much. That's why he wanted the SGC so much.
He hears footsteps behind him and cranes his neck around to see who is approaching. It's Vala, hair in a ponytail and feet bare. She sits down beside him and presses just a little too close, like she always does. He can feel the heat of her thigh on his, feel the bony bump of her shoulder against his. He bumps back, smiling.
"You look like you were thinking much too hard. Here, I brought you a beer." She hands him a cold bottle with a familiar label, his favorite kind. The Atlantis crew don't really want for any of their home grown pleasures anymore. If anything, the few original crew that remain seem wistful for Pegasus.
"Thanks." He says, twisting off his own cap and then hers when she tilts it toward him.
"Thank you." She smiles back at him. "So, what is it you're thinking much too hard about, Colonel Mitchell?"
He leans back with one palm flat on the deck. "I was just thinking about... life."
"What about life?"
He shrugs. "Being alone. Being lonely."
"Oh, are you lonely, Cameron? We could fix that." She gives him a wicked leer.
It makes him laugh. "I'm not too lonely, not most of the time. But I am alone."
"Cameron," Vala tuts. "I hadn't pegged you for one to mope."
"I'm not moping. Just thinking." He says, trying to stress the difference even when he's not sure it exactly exists. "And my thinking happen to turn to the fact that I haven't been out with any women besides you or Carter in about a year now."
"So? I happen to think Samantha and I are both lovely and fine women to be taking out." Vala says, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.
"That works better when your hair is down," he comments.
"Yes, I know." She makes a face. "Anyway, what's so wrong with Samantha and I?"
"Uh, Vala." He rolls his eyes. She looks at him blankly. "Vala, you know what I meant."
She smirks. She does, but she'll make him say it anyway. That's Vala for you. "No, I don't believe I do."
"I'm just saying, at the end of the night, I take you or Sam home."
He's already leaning back, so she leans forward. "You know, you don't have to take us home."
He winces. "Okay, drop the 'us', that's getting kind of kinky, and I think General O'Neill would have my nuts if I made any moves on Sam."
She puts her hand on his thigh. Her grin is wide, eyes so bright and pretty. He feels that low grade ache in his belly and in his groin. He's kind of used to it by now. Vala's sexy as hell and maybe Jackson's moved on but Cam's still used to shoving it away when he feels it. Everyone wants Vala; that's just a way of life, no need to linger on it. "So don't make any moves on Samantha. Make moves on me."
Well, that doesn't help at all. He lifts her hand up and removes it. "Come on, Vala, I thought you cut this out a while back."
She huffs and sits back, even scooting away from him. "Fine."
"What? What did I say?" She's got that look on her face, that one he actually is able to read now, finally, after almost three years of knowing her. The look that says she's actually a little bit hurt but she's trying to hide it. He's got enough of that good ole boy attitude left in him that he doesn't like hurting a girl's feelings, ever.
"Nothing." She insists, but he won't drop it. Finally, as she's standing and preparing to walk away, she says, "Did it ever occur to you that I'm lonely and might like a little bit of company, too?"
Actually, it hadn't, and he kind of feels like an ass for admitting it so he keeps it to himself. He reaches out and grabs her, tugs her back down to sitting. She lets him, which means she hadn't really wanted to leave to begin with. Vala is never that easily coaxed. "What, you saying if I didn't take you back to the base one night..."
She shrugs, a delicate little lift of her shoulders. Weird that she's so in your face, except when someone actually tries to prompt her. He reaches out and brushes away a wisp of hair that's escaped the clasp, tucking it behind her ear. The shy and somewhat happy smile she gives him makes him feel like he's on a date. He resists the urge to offer her his jacket.
"Fine. Maybe next time I won't." He says, taking another drink of his beer. He leans in to her this time, switching his beer to his left hand so he can put his right behind her, and hold his weight on it. His bicep brushes against her back and she takes the hint, leans against him and puts her head on his shoulder.
He takes in a deep breath, smells salt water and Vala's shampoo. Earth and alien, home and away, the Pacific and the Atlantis, him and Vala.