Fic: Lornefest 3, Clueless in Colorado, Evan/Cam, PG-13
Title: Clueless in Colorado
Author: Rubygirl29
Pairing: Evan Lorne/Cam Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash
Fandom: Crossover SGA/SG-1
Prompt: Mitchell is flirtatious, Lorne is clueless.
Also at AO3
Clueless in Colorado
Evan Lorne wasn't much for parties. A drink out with friends, sure, but not a night in a small, cramped apartment with too much loud music, too many people he didn't know, and unpredictable liquor. It reminded him of his days as an Air Force cadet; he'd attended too many keggers to be comfortable with the memory. But he had been snagged by Laura Cadman on his way to his quarters.
"I need a ride," she said, "To a party for Cara Gregson. She's been transferred to DC to be on General O'Neill's staff." Then she had looked at him with those big blue eyes, and he had relented.
"A ride? Can I leave after I drop you off?"
"I ask you on a date and you want to leave me all alone?" She twinkled at him, knowing him too well.
He sighed, "Give up, Laura."
"Oh, I know I'm not your type. But you might meet somebody who is."
"Right. That would go over great. DADT and all that." His voice dropped to a whisper.
"See, I'm the perfect cover." She linked her arm through his. "C'mon, Evan. Be a sport and I promise I won't try setting you up with anybody. What else are you going to do? Hunker down with a big book of specs of the Daedalus, or off-world training manuals that you already know by heart? That is so lame."
It was exactly what he had planned on doing. God, Laura had him pegged. He really was lame. "It's not that bad," he objected.
"Yes, it is exactly that bad. You are the most exasperating man."
"Fine. I'll go."
A smile lit her face. "Great! See you topside in half an hour. Wear your black jeans."
"I won't even begin to speculate on your reasons for that."
"They make your ass look spectacular!" She laughed and hurried off to her quarters. He cursed his inability to say no to his friends and went to change. He wore his black jeans.
Half an hour later, he met her in the parking lot. She looked him up and down. "Very nice. I approve."
He turned around, looked over his shoulder."How's my ass?"
She snorted, laughing. "Totally spectacular."
"Are you sure you aren't trying to fix me up with somebody?"
"Hey, if it happens, it happens. Right?"
He really had no reply for that.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
It wasn't the best party Cam had ever been to, but it wasn't the worst, either. He didn't know most of the people there except for Cara, but their faces were vaguely familiar, like he had passed them in the corridors of the SGC at one time or another. He really hadn't been there all that long and he was still sorting out the staffing issues that General Landry had dropped on him like a ton of bricks.
After a day of interviewing linguists, marines, and scientists, none of whom he felt he could mold into an effective Gate team, much less fill the boots of the legendary SG-1, he needed a break, a drink, a distraction. Hell, he needed a life!
He didn't need a distraction like that dark-haired guy sitting in the corner of the sofa, but he was pretty hard to ignore. Cam let his eyes roam appreciatively over him. Was he with anybody? He'd come in with a redhead, but she seemed to have abandoned him in favor of a group of women talking in the corner. He recognized Cara and one or two others; all worked for the SGC in either a military or civilian capacity. Judging from the close-cut of his hair, he was in the military. Feeling reckless and unsettled, Cam snagged two beers from the cooler. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that, he told himself
He strolled over to the couch. "Hey," he said. "You look like you might be thirsty."
Startled blue eyes met his. "I'm the designated driver."
"One beer?" Cam sat down. "Looks like your date is here for the long haul. You might as well enjoy yourself." He gestured to Cadman, relaxed and laughing with her friends.
"Not my date. Just a friend. I'm her ride home."
"So ...?" Cam held out the beer, waggled it temptingly. "It's not like you're flying a fighter plane home."
He hesitated, then he smiled and Cam just about melted. Dimples. Damn!.
"Thanks ... um?"
"Mitchell. Cam." He held out his hand.
"Evan Lorne." He shook Cam's hand. His clasp was warm and firm.
"Military?" Cam asked.
"Air Force."
"Ditto. Pilot?"
"Most of the time."
Cam rolled his eyes. "C'mon, give me a little more here. Twenty questions isn't my forte."
Lorne turned a bit to face him. "You're with SGC?"
"Yeah. Do you need proof?" Lorne gave him a wry look. Cam turned on his best, hopefully devastating smile. "New team leader of SG-1, aka, SG-me."
Lorne's dimples flashed. "I'm the brand-new XO of the Daedalus. And right now, I should be at SGC studying specs, not drinking a beer at a party."
"Man, sitting here isn't a bad thing, but this noise is getting to me. How about we take this party outside to the patio?" Cam hoped he wasn't acting like a total idiot. He held out his hand.
Lorne hesitated briefly, then let Cam pull him up from the couch. He was shorter than Cam, muscular and fit. He leaned into Cam briefly for balance. He was warm, he smelled like sage and fresh air. Seductive, Cam thought and knew he was on dangerous ground.
He followed Lorne out to the balcony. The man had a totally spectacular ass.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
The evening air was cool on Evan's skin. The dry, bitter taste of the beer was refreshing. He was actually kind of glad that Mitchell had convinced him to have a drink. Mitchell himself had all of Lorne's bells ringing. Tall, rangy, sky-blue eyes, a killer smile ... Dangerous as striking a match in a room full of dynamite. He'd have to be careful, very careful.
Mitchell stood next to him, not obviously close, but close enough that their shoulders brushed when he shifted slightly. Evan didn't move away from the contact. He looked out at the manicured grounds of the condo development. "Nice place Cara has," he commented.
"That's why I'm renting a unit here."
"Rates good?"
"Fair. Are you interested?"
"Considering that my quarters are going to be on board the Daedalus in a few weeks, probably not."
"Where are you staying now?"
"BOQ at Peterson when I'm not sleeping on a cot at Cheyenne."
Mitchell grimaced. "Ouch." He paused, fixed Evan with a bright blue study. "I, umm. Listen, I'm probably going to be off-world a lot. If you were interested, you could stay at my place. I've got two bedrooms, two baths ... It's got to be more comfortable than that cot."
"Mmm." Evan made a noncommittal sound, uncertain where this was going.
"You want to see it?"
He didn't know which way to jump. He didn't know if Mitchell was just ridiculously trusting, or if he was coming on to him. He was clueless. He certainly wasn't drunk. At least that would have been an excuse for his dull wits ... and the flush on his cheeks.
"Or I could just ask if you wanted to see my etchings ..." Mitchell said, one brow raised.
He was finally getting a clue. Evan's head throbbed. He rubbed his temples. "Okay, let me ask you this, and if I'm totally off base, blame it on the beer and not enough sleep. Are you flirting with me, or just being kind of creepy stalker-ish? In a totally unintentional way, I mean."
Mitchell blinked, then grinned. "I'm not a creepy-stalker, but I may be flirting with you. If that's a problem, I'll stop and we'll call it no harm, no foul, okay?"
Evan looked at him. Blue eyes, beautiful mouth, strong jaw. Mitchell was so much his type it wasn't funny. "If I agree to take a look at your place, it doesn't mean ..."
Mitchell blushed. "God, no! Now that would be creepy-stalker. This is an offer of a place to stay, no strings attached."
"I appreciate it. Those mattresses at SGC might as well be stuffed with rocks."
"I'm just two doors down. Feel like a walk?"
Actually, he did. His head was still aching. "Let me check with Laura about when she wants to leave. I'll meet you outside."
He found Laura working on mixing up a batch of frozen Margaritas. She waved him over. "Hey, Evan. I'm staying with Cara tonight, so you can leave whenever your little heart desires."
He was relieved in a way. No need for explanations, no reason anybody would connect his departure with Mitchell's. "I'll just head out, then. You have a good time, but If you need me give me a call."
She leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, flyboy. See you tomorrow."
Evan found Mitchell sitting on the brick wall enclosing the small front garden. He drew a breath. One step and his life would change. For a moment, he was poised on a knife-edge of uncertainty. He looked at Mitchell's strong, fine body, his profile edged with light. "Mitchell --"
"Call me Cam." He held out his hand. Evan took it and didn't let go.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
He didn't let go ... Cam felt a warmth in his chest, like he was holding a little bit of summer heat. He didn't go around picking up strangers. "I don't usually do this," he said.
"I hope not. For all you know I could be an ax murderer."
"You're not." Cam grinned. "No place to hide an ax in those jeans."
Evan groaned, blushed. "Cadman made me wear them."
"Smart girl."
"See, now you are flirting with me."
"Yes, I am," Cam said happily. "Here's home, sweet home." He opened the door and let Evan inside. "It's not fancy."
He tried to see his place as Evan did; clean, because he had maid service once a week. A bit cluttered with guy stuff -- sports equipment, running shoes, X-box and games. The walls were a pale sand color, the carpeting was slightly darker and thick. There wasn't much on the walls. "It's a bit bare. I haven't had time to put anything on the walls, yet. And I'm still unpacking, so ... "
"It's nice," Evan said. He was looking around with interest. "KItchen?"
"Kitchen? I have a kitchen?" Cam deadpanned and was rewarded with a smile from Lorne. "You mean that place where I keep the coffee maker and the beer?"
"And the take-out menus."
"Right." It was Cam's turn to smile. "I'll show you the guest room. It's kind of a storage area right now, but if you want it, I'll have it cleared out for you." He pushed the door open. Lorne looked in.
"I love what you've done with the place."
"Yeah, early corrugated cardboard is my thing. Seriously, it won't take me more than a couple of hours. I just haven't taken stuff down to the storage unit."
"Want help?"
"Sure. Does that mean you'll take it?"
"I guess it does."
"Want a beer to seal the pact?"
Lorne raised a shoulder. "I have to drive back to Cheyenne."
"Are you on duty?"
"No ... I have 24 hours leave."
"Then stay. Stay", Cam whispered, and waited for the answer.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Stay. Evan knew this wasn't what he ought to do, but it was what he wanted to do. He slid his hand down Mitchell's arm, felt the strong muscles, the hard knob of bone at his wrist. Their fingers twined and he leaned in, his face tilted up, questioning.
Mitchell leaned down, looked searchingly into Evan's eyes. "You don't have to."
"I know. I may be clueless, but I'm not stupid." He let his lips brush against Mitchell's jaw, rough stubble and warm skin. Cam's lips were cool and soft, perfect against Evan's.
"Wow," he said when they parted, both bemused and breathless.
"You'll stay?"
"I'll stay."
"Do I need to move boxes?"
"Not tonight," Evan slid an arm around Cam's waist. Maybe not ever.
The End
Author: Rubygirl29
Pairing: Evan Lorne/Cam Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash
Fandom: Crossover SGA/SG-1
Prompt: Mitchell is flirtatious, Lorne is clueless.
Also at AO3
Clueless in Colorado
Evan Lorne wasn't much for parties. A drink out with friends, sure, but not a night in a small, cramped apartment with too much loud music, too many people he didn't know, and unpredictable liquor. It reminded him of his days as an Air Force cadet; he'd attended too many keggers to be comfortable with the memory. But he had been snagged by Laura Cadman on his way to his quarters.
"I need a ride," she said, "To a party for Cara Gregson. She's been transferred to DC to be on General O'Neill's staff." Then she had looked at him with those big blue eyes, and he had relented.
"A ride? Can I leave after I drop you off?"
"I ask you on a date and you want to leave me all alone?" She twinkled at him, knowing him too well.
He sighed, "Give up, Laura."
"Oh, I know I'm not your type. But you might meet somebody who is."
"Right. That would go over great. DADT and all that." His voice dropped to a whisper.
"See, I'm the perfect cover." She linked her arm through his. "C'mon, Evan. Be a sport and I promise I won't try setting you up with anybody. What else are you going to do? Hunker down with a big book of specs of the Daedalus, or off-world training manuals that you already know by heart? That is so lame."
It was exactly what he had planned on doing. God, Laura had him pegged. He really was lame. "It's not that bad," he objected.
"Yes, it is exactly that bad. You are the most exasperating man."
"Fine. I'll go."
A smile lit her face. "Great! See you topside in half an hour. Wear your black jeans."
"I won't even begin to speculate on your reasons for that."
"They make your ass look spectacular!" She laughed and hurried off to her quarters. He cursed his inability to say no to his friends and went to change. He wore his black jeans.
Half an hour later, he met her in the parking lot. She looked him up and down. "Very nice. I approve."
He turned around, looked over his shoulder."How's my ass?"
She snorted, laughing. "Totally spectacular."
"Are you sure you aren't trying to fix me up with somebody?"
"Hey, if it happens, it happens. Right?"
He really had no reply for that.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
It wasn't the best party Cam had ever been to, but it wasn't the worst, either. He didn't know most of the people there except for Cara, but their faces were vaguely familiar, like he had passed them in the corridors of the SGC at one time or another. He really hadn't been there all that long and he was still sorting out the staffing issues that General Landry had dropped on him like a ton of bricks.
After a day of interviewing linguists, marines, and scientists, none of whom he felt he could mold into an effective Gate team, much less fill the boots of the legendary SG-1, he needed a break, a drink, a distraction. Hell, he needed a life!
He didn't need a distraction like that dark-haired guy sitting in the corner of the sofa, but he was pretty hard to ignore. Cam let his eyes roam appreciatively over him. Was he with anybody? He'd come in with a redhead, but she seemed to have abandoned him in favor of a group of women talking in the corner. He recognized Cara and one or two others; all worked for the SGC in either a military or civilian capacity. Judging from the close-cut of his hair, he was in the military. Feeling reckless and unsettled, Cam snagged two beers from the cooler. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that, he told himself
He strolled over to the couch. "Hey," he said. "You look like you might be thirsty."
Startled blue eyes met his. "I'm the designated driver."
"One beer?" Cam sat down. "Looks like your date is here for the long haul. You might as well enjoy yourself." He gestured to Cadman, relaxed and laughing with her friends.
"Not my date. Just a friend. I'm her ride home."
"So ...?" Cam held out the beer, waggled it temptingly. "It's not like you're flying a fighter plane home."
He hesitated, then he smiled and Cam just about melted. Dimples. Damn!.
"Thanks ... um?"
"Mitchell. Cam." He held out his hand.
"Evan Lorne." He shook Cam's hand. His clasp was warm and firm.
"Military?" Cam asked.
"Air Force."
"Ditto. Pilot?"
"Most of the time."
Cam rolled his eyes. "C'mon, give me a little more here. Twenty questions isn't my forte."
Lorne turned a bit to face him. "You're with SGC?"
"Yeah. Do you need proof?" Lorne gave him a wry look. Cam turned on his best, hopefully devastating smile. "New team leader of SG-1, aka, SG-me."
Lorne's dimples flashed. "I'm the brand-new XO of the Daedalus. And right now, I should be at SGC studying specs, not drinking a beer at a party."
"Man, sitting here isn't a bad thing, but this noise is getting to me. How about we take this party outside to the patio?" Cam hoped he wasn't acting like a total idiot. He held out his hand.
Lorne hesitated briefly, then let Cam pull him up from the couch. He was shorter than Cam, muscular and fit. He leaned into Cam briefly for balance. He was warm, he smelled like sage and fresh air. Seductive, Cam thought and knew he was on dangerous ground.
He followed Lorne out to the balcony. The man had a totally spectacular ass.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
The evening air was cool on Evan's skin. The dry, bitter taste of the beer was refreshing. He was actually kind of glad that Mitchell had convinced him to have a drink. Mitchell himself had all of Lorne's bells ringing. Tall, rangy, sky-blue eyes, a killer smile ... Dangerous as striking a match in a room full of dynamite. He'd have to be careful, very careful.
Mitchell stood next to him, not obviously close, but close enough that their shoulders brushed when he shifted slightly. Evan didn't move away from the contact. He looked out at the manicured grounds of the condo development. "Nice place Cara has," he commented.
"That's why I'm renting a unit here."
"Rates good?"
"Fair. Are you interested?"
"Considering that my quarters are going to be on board the Daedalus in a few weeks, probably not."
"Where are you staying now?"
"BOQ at Peterson when I'm not sleeping on a cot at Cheyenne."
Mitchell grimaced. "Ouch." He paused, fixed Evan with a bright blue study. "I, umm. Listen, I'm probably going to be off-world a lot. If you were interested, you could stay at my place. I've got two bedrooms, two baths ... It's got to be more comfortable than that cot."
"Mmm." Evan made a noncommittal sound, uncertain where this was going.
"You want to see it?"
He didn't know which way to jump. He didn't know if Mitchell was just ridiculously trusting, or if he was coming on to him. He was clueless. He certainly wasn't drunk. At least that would have been an excuse for his dull wits ... and the flush on his cheeks.
"Or I could just ask if you wanted to see my etchings ..." Mitchell said, one brow raised.
He was finally getting a clue. Evan's head throbbed. He rubbed his temples. "Okay, let me ask you this, and if I'm totally off base, blame it on the beer and not enough sleep. Are you flirting with me, or just being kind of creepy stalker-ish? In a totally unintentional way, I mean."
Mitchell blinked, then grinned. "I'm not a creepy-stalker, but I may be flirting with you. If that's a problem, I'll stop and we'll call it no harm, no foul, okay?"
Evan looked at him. Blue eyes, beautiful mouth, strong jaw. Mitchell was so much his type it wasn't funny. "If I agree to take a look at your place, it doesn't mean ..."
Mitchell blushed. "God, no! Now that would be creepy-stalker. This is an offer of a place to stay, no strings attached."
"I appreciate it. Those mattresses at SGC might as well be stuffed with rocks."
"I'm just two doors down. Feel like a walk?"
Actually, he did. His head was still aching. "Let me check with Laura about when she wants to leave. I'll meet you outside."
He found Laura working on mixing up a batch of frozen Margaritas. She waved him over. "Hey, Evan. I'm staying with Cara tonight, so you can leave whenever your little heart desires."
He was relieved in a way. No need for explanations, no reason anybody would connect his departure with Mitchell's. "I'll just head out, then. You have a good time, but If you need me give me a call."
She leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, flyboy. See you tomorrow."
Evan found Mitchell sitting on the brick wall enclosing the small front garden. He drew a breath. One step and his life would change. For a moment, he was poised on a knife-edge of uncertainty. He looked at Mitchell's strong, fine body, his profile edged with light. "Mitchell --"
"Call me Cam." He held out his hand. Evan took it and didn't let go.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
He didn't let go ... Cam felt a warmth in his chest, like he was holding a little bit of summer heat. He didn't go around picking up strangers. "I don't usually do this," he said.
"I hope not. For all you know I could be an ax murderer."
"You're not." Cam grinned. "No place to hide an ax in those jeans."
Evan groaned, blushed. "Cadman made me wear them."
"Smart girl."
"See, now you are flirting with me."
"Yes, I am," Cam said happily. "Here's home, sweet home." He opened the door and let Evan inside. "It's not fancy."
He tried to see his place as Evan did; clean, because he had maid service once a week. A bit cluttered with guy stuff -- sports equipment, running shoes, X-box and games. The walls were a pale sand color, the carpeting was slightly darker and thick. There wasn't much on the walls. "It's a bit bare. I haven't had time to put anything on the walls, yet. And I'm still unpacking, so ... "
"It's nice," Evan said. He was looking around with interest. "KItchen?"
"Kitchen? I have a kitchen?" Cam deadpanned and was rewarded with a smile from Lorne. "You mean that place where I keep the coffee maker and the beer?"
"And the take-out menus."
"Right." It was Cam's turn to smile. "I'll show you the guest room. It's kind of a storage area right now, but if you want it, I'll have it cleared out for you." He pushed the door open. Lorne looked in.
"I love what you've done with the place."
"Yeah, early corrugated cardboard is my thing. Seriously, it won't take me more than a couple of hours. I just haven't taken stuff down to the storage unit."
"Want help?"
"Sure. Does that mean you'll take it?"
"I guess it does."
"Want a beer to seal the pact?"
Lorne raised a shoulder. "I have to drive back to Cheyenne."
"Are you on duty?"
"No ... I have 24 hours leave."
"Then stay. Stay", Cam whispered, and waited for the answer.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Stay. Evan knew this wasn't what he ought to do, but it was what he wanted to do. He slid his hand down Mitchell's arm, felt the strong muscles, the hard knob of bone at his wrist. Their fingers twined and he leaned in, his face tilted up, questioning.
Mitchell leaned down, looked searchingly into Evan's eyes. "You don't have to."
"I know. I may be clueless, but I'm not stupid." He let his lips brush against Mitchell's jaw, rough stubble and warm skin. Cam's lips were cool and soft, perfect against Evan's.
"Wow," he said when they parted, both bemused and breathless.
"You'll stay?"
"I'll stay."
"Do I need to move boxes?"
"Not tonight," Evan slid an arm around Cam's waist. Maybe not ever.
The End