![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: The Long Pause Between (Waiting Where I Am Remix)
Remix Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
holdouttrout
Rating: PG
Words: 2400
Original story/author: The Long Pause Between, bykellifer_fic
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Cam
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
gateverse_remix, 2008. My eternal gratitude to annerbhp and pepper_field, without whom this story would have been much holier, in a bad, swiss-cheese sort of way. *grins*
Summary: A few years of experience makes a big difference to Sam.
*_*_*_*_*
"Okay, no touching the Chieftain's very adorable six-year-old daughter," Cam says, fingers rubbing against his forehead. "Even though she constantly asks you to pick her up."
Sam shakes her head. "As far as prohibitions go, this one's pretty straightforward, Cam." She knows that Cam likes kids, is good with them. Even in their limited time together as a team, she's seen him pick up a band of little followers on more than one planet. He's approachable, funny, and never, ever drops a kid no matter how high he throws them.
"It's stupid," Cam says.
Daniel frowns, "This is serious, you two. Lela is supposed to be the reincarnation of...a prophetess, I think." He looks worried. "Just remember--"
"Don't touch the princess. Yeah, I got it."
Cam looks serious, and Daniel finally nods. "Okay. Okay."
Teal'c is waiting for Daniel a few steps away, and they head off toward the center of the little town. They've been invited to take a look around, and for Daniel that means the library or records hall or something similar.
Cam takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, expansively. "Where to now?" he asks Sam.
Sam hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, and no technology that she hasn't seen before, so she shrugs. "I don't think there's anything much here, honestly."
Cam grins. "Oh, come on, Sam. You never know. There could be mysterious tunnels under this village, right here." He looks down, almost as if he expects the Earth to give way beneath their feet, and looks a little disappointed when nothing happens. Sam rolls her eyes a little, but falls into step at Cam's side as he starts for the narrow streets near the town walls. She makes mental notes for later with half her brain, but this is a cake mission and they all know it. Almost as good as a vacation. Cam smiles more brightly at her, and she feels a little stab of excitement despite herself.
Sam has to admit that she likes the way they all fell back into place around Cam and his enthusiasm. It could have felt limiting, but instead it just feels comfortable. Most of the time. It isn't the same--it will never be the same--but maybe she missed the 'gate more than she realized.
They meander for a while. Cam chats up the locals, disarms himself with a smile so that no one feels nervous about speaking to him, despite the weapon he keeps a hand near. Sam hangs back, watches the crowds, the groups of kids that run through the clusters of adults, playing a game Sam recognizes as shadow tag. She especially keeps an eye on the little princess in green--she has her own cohort of friends, all of whom keep a respectful distance. Her guards watch her, too, although they look bored. Everyone follows the rules here. No one touches Lela except her parents or the guards.
Sam doesn't like that idea, but isn't willing to make a big deal out of it. On the other side of the clear space, Cam laughs.
She sees it before it happens. The girl is running after a small boy, aiming for his shadow. She misses, and her foot hits a half-buried rock. Sam sees her falling, falling, and then she's on the ground, her face screwed up in pain, her knee torn and bloody. Cam's standing right next to her, and he's reaching down to her before Sam can yell for him to stop. It's as if the girl leaps into his arms, and really, it is a stupid tradition, but Sam sees the guards take a step and she finds her voice.
"Cam! Put her down!"
He does a double-take, and the girl bursts into tears, but he does--he does put her down. He's not stupid, just ridiculously good-hearted.
The guards keep coming, though, and Sam's talking into her radio the next second.
"Daniel, Teal'c. Get out of here. Now."
They're close to the 'gate, they'll make it out, but Sam and Cam might not be so lucky. The guards take one more step, and then Sam and Cam are running, dodging thunderstruck and angry people as they head straight as they can for the 'gate.
*_*_*_*_*
They make it out of the village, and zig-zag through the stand of trees next to the path.
The guards have spears, but Sam's pretty sure they've thrown most of those already and are now hurling rocks at their heads. Ahead of them, the even horizon shimmers in the 'gate. A rock goes sailing into it and disappears, and Sam has an insane moment where she pictures everyone watching it sailing over the ramp.
The image strikes her as funny for some reason, but she has no breath to spare to laugh, and then they're at the foot of the 'gate. She's on the second stair when the event horizon dissolves, and there's no time to change direction.
She yells at Cam to keep going, and they run straight through the empty ring, rocks barely missing their heads. They fall awkwardly off the ledge at the back of the platform, but have a couple of seconds of reprieve from the rocks.
Sam stumbles for a split second as one grazes her leg, regains the pace, and they duck into the tree line, their pursuers hot on their heels.
*_*_*_*_*
After so many years, Sam's begun to take it as a personal affront when the 'gates don't work. She realizes how absurd this is--she is not responsible for every malfunction, every solar flare, every weird Ancient trick in the book. But she can't help it.
She digs through her pack, curses the Ancients and their technology, Cam, and herself for baiting him, for flirting with him earlier, when they'd still been high from their escape.
"I'm not a good girl."
She knows what this is. She's dealt with this before, knows to keep her mouth shut, look away. She knows how he'll react to things like that. And she can't stop.
Cam comes back. He watches her catalog the laptop and the batteries. If they can just get her a good hour without pursuit, she might be able to figure out what's wrong with the 'gate, and she tells him that, shrugs off his question about her leg. She's fine, and there's work to be done.
She turns on the computer, waits for it to boot up and gets her programs ready, runs a few scenarios. She'll have to be quick, and she wants everything ready, at her fingertips.
"We should wait until tomorrow," Cam says. "They might give up."
He sounds hopeful, and Sam shoots him a look, the look she cultivated to say You've got to be kidding me, sir..
Cam looks a little taken aback, and Sam softens her expression. She forgets, sometimes, that Cam really is as optimistic as he seems, that harshness cuts just that little bit deeper.
She must look guilty, because Cam breaks out a brilliant grin that says they're alright, and Sam rolls her eyes as they get ready to sleep.
*_*_*_*_*
It's a slow progression up the hill, and then a long, slow, careful planting of explosives far enough away that they'll have a clear path straight to the Stargate. Sam will never admit this to anyone, but she thinks all the terror and pain are worth it only when she's right in the middle of it, running or firing and hopped up on adrenaline. Afterward she's too bogged down with thinking about what she could have done better, or what she will do next time, but there's no time for that when enemies are firing at you, or the wormhole is in front of you.
She runs as hard as she can, dodging trees and bushes and always getting a little annoyed that Cam's still in front of her. It almost seems easy for him.
They skid into the valley and she drops by the DHD, fumbling for the computer, opening the panel in just under two seconds, hooking in the leads in even less time. The computer is the slowest part of the equation. It loads, finally, and starts diagnosing. Sam's focus is on the DHD itself. It looks fine, all the right crystals and connections in place and secured.
Damn.
There is nothing wrong with the 'gate, at least nothing she can see. Sam checks the computer screen. Normal. Everything reads normal, and while the more sensitive tests are still running, she is fairly sure they won't find anything, either.
She tries dialing. The 'gate grinds away, but nothing happens.
"How close?" Cam asks. Sam grimaces. It's only been ten minutes, tops.
"I can’t find anything wrong with it."
"Maybe it’s the gate itself,” Cameron offers.
She's not given the time to test that hypothesis. There's a sharp noise, and the computer practically leaps out of her hand. It takes her a split-second to register the broken screen and realize an ordinary rock just destroyed their only shot out of here, and then Cam's yelling and they're running again.
*_*_*_*_*
They hide out in a cave on top of the ridge by the 'gate. It's close enough to the 'gate to make their daily trips manageable, and sheltered enough that they won't be found--or freeze to death. Hopefully. There is no sign of the guards getting ready to leave anytime soon, and they're both coming down with something. Sam doesn't think it's too dangerous, but it's annoying and it could turn ugly if they are stuck here long-term.
Cameron looks miserable, small and shivering, and Sam takes pity on him and herself, zips the bags together, endures his questions about how long the SGC will keep trying the 'gate and when (for at least one day, every hour), how long they'll keep looking (forever), and then he asks her about how long they have to hide out until they decide to break the regs. He's trying to joke, but he doesn't quite make it.
Sam hugs her arms to her chest and shuts him down.
"Cameron, we've talked about this."
That they've talked about it is a testament to the way Cameron works. He doesn't leave half-said ideas floating around, or promise things with his eyes that he's not willing to say right out. He also doesn't allow you the option of remaining silent.
It's at once refreshing and utterly irritating.
“I know. I get it, I do. It’s just, we’re stranded-“
“For a whole seventy-two hours so far.”
“Yeah, and I just wanted to know what kind of timeframe I was looking at.”
Sam is pretty sure he means it to be flippant, humorous, but Cam doesn't lie very well. She hesitates, unwilling to joke around with him about this, and a little frustrated it's coming up at all.
“Do you get doing something like that would be like giving up hope for me? Like acknowledging that we were never going to see home again?”
Sam watches him struggle not to argue with her, sees his natural humor take over, smooth over her rejection. “So, not for a while then?”
He smiles, and eventually she lets herself smile back.
*_*_*_*_*
She lies awake that night, warmed by Cam's heat at her back, and curses her luck.
Cam has no patience. He's read all the reports, and could probably tell Sam a few things about the missions she's been on, but he hasn't been there, hasn't felt time in the same way.
Sam's worked in alien mines for weeks at a time, slept away days, destroyed worlds in minutes, agonized over seconds. It's different, off-world. Events take place in a rush, speeding past until you wind up with robot doubles and then watch them die. Until you wake up on an alien world with the wrong idea about who you are. Until you've watched your teammate, your friend, die in excruciating slowness back on Earth.
He'll figure it out. Hell, Sam knows he'll figure it out faster than she did.
She feels a pang, then. She wishes--
Cam turns over, away from her. Sam feels the loss of body heat immediately, stares into the dark for a few more minutes. She turns over and wraps herself against Cam's back, putting her face right behind his neck.
He shivers, stirs.
"Sam--" he starts to complain.
Sam puts a hand on his arm, and he stops talking.
"I'm cold," she whispers.
He takes her hand and pulls her arm around him.
*_*_*_*_*
Sam's blissfully warm when she wakes, and it takes her a minute to recognize that there are words coming from their radios. Cam fumbles to grab it, and Sam rolls away so she can sit up. She feels pretty stiff, but she doesn't feel as sick.
“Say again,” Cameron says.
“I said Mitchell, is that you?”
“Jackson! Where the hell are you?” Cameron looks relieved and anxious, all at once.
“Is Sam okay?” Daniel asks. Sam rolls her eyes and stretches, hunting down the most efficient path to her socks. It's cold out there.
Cam smirks at her, but replies to Daniel, “She’s fine. Where are you?”
“By the ‘gate with SG-23 and a bunch of pissed off locals that--I’m getting the distinct impression they still want to kill you.” He sounds more curious than anything.
“We’re up on the ridge. We’ll be down to you in a few. Can you make sure there’s no one around to take pot-shots at us? I think I’ve been hit by enough rocks to last me a lifetime.”
“I can’t make any guarantees,” Daniel warns.
Cam grins as he clicks off.
“We’re going home,” Cameron says.
Sam stops getting dressed and looks him in the eyes. There's still a trace of last night's conversation there, but Sam knows his happiness at the rescue, at their well-placed faith in their teammates, is the more important thing, today.
“Did you ever doubt it?” she asks. They give each other a slow smile. Cam laughs, and they go to meet their team and be rescued.
Remix Author:
holdouttroutRating: PG
Words: 2400
Original story/author: The Long Pause Between, by
kellifer_ficCharacters/Pairings: Sam/Cam
Notes: Written for
gateverse_remix, 2008. My eternal gratitude to annerbhp and pepper_field, without whom this story would have been much holier, in a bad, swiss-cheese sort of way. *grins*Summary: A few years of experience makes a big difference to Sam.
*_*_*_*_*
"Okay, no touching the Chieftain's very adorable six-year-old daughter," Cam says, fingers rubbing against his forehead. "Even though she constantly asks you to pick her up."
Sam shakes her head. "As far as prohibitions go, this one's pretty straightforward, Cam." She knows that Cam likes kids, is good with them. Even in their limited time together as a team, she's seen him pick up a band of little followers on more than one planet. He's approachable, funny, and never, ever drops a kid no matter how high he throws them.
"It's stupid," Cam says.
Daniel frowns, "This is serious, you two. Lela is supposed to be the reincarnation of...a prophetess, I think." He looks worried. "Just remember--"
"Don't touch the princess. Yeah, I got it."
Cam looks serious, and Daniel finally nods. "Okay. Okay."
Teal'c is waiting for Daniel a few steps away, and they head off toward the center of the little town. They've been invited to take a look around, and for Daniel that means the library or records hall or something similar.
Cam takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, expansively. "Where to now?" he asks Sam.
Sam hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, and no technology that she hasn't seen before, so she shrugs. "I don't think there's anything much here, honestly."
Cam grins. "Oh, come on, Sam. You never know. There could be mysterious tunnels under this village, right here." He looks down, almost as if he expects the Earth to give way beneath their feet, and looks a little disappointed when nothing happens. Sam rolls her eyes a little, but falls into step at Cam's side as he starts for the narrow streets near the town walls. She makes mental notes for later with half her brain, but this is a cake mission and they all know it. Almost as good as a vacation. Cam smiles more brightly at her, and she feels a little stab of excitement despite herself.
Sam has to admit that she likes the way they all fell back into place around Cam and his enthusiasm. It could have felt limiting, but instead it just feels comfortable. Most of the time. It isn't the same--it will never be the same--but maybe she missed the 'gate more than she realized.
They meander for a while. Cam chats up the locals, disarms himself with a smile so that no one feels nervous about speaking to him, despite the weapon he keeps a hand near. Sam hangs back, watches the crowds, the groups of kids that run through the clusters of adults, playing a game Sam recognizes as shadow tag. She especially keeps an eye on the little princess in green--she has her own cohort of friends, all of whom keep a respectful distance. Her guards watch her, too, although they look bored. Everyone follows the rules here. No one touches Lela except her parents or the guards.
Sam doesn't like that idea, but isn't willing to make a big deal out of it. On the other side of the clear space, Cam laughs.
She sees it before it happens. The girl is running after a small boy, aiming for his shadow. She misses, and her foot hits a half-buried rock. Sam sees her falling, falling, and then she's on the ground, her face screwed up in pain, her knee torn and bloody. Cam's standing right next to her, and he's reaching down to her before Sam can yell for him to stop. It's as if the girl leaps into his arms, and really, it is a stupid tradition, but Sam sees the guards take a step and she finds her voice.
"Cam! Put her down!"
He does a double-take, and the girl bursts into tears, but he does--he does put her down. He's not stupid, just ridiculously good-hearted.
The guards keep coming, though, and Sam's talking into her radio the next second.
"Daniel, Teal'c. Get out of here. Now."
They're close to the 'gate, they'll make it out, but Sam and Cam might not be so lucky. The guards take one more step, and then Sam and Cam are running, dodging thunderstruck and angry people as they head straight as they can for the 'gate.
*_*_*_*_*
They make it out of the village, and zig-zag through the stand of trees next to the path.
The guards have spears, but Sam's pretty sure they've thrown most of those already and are now hurling rocks at their heads. Ahead of them, the even horizon shimmers in the 'gate. A rock goes sailing into it and disappears, and Sam has an insane moment where she pictures everyone watching it sailing over the ramp.
The image strikes her as funny for some reason, but she has no breath to spare to laugh, and then they're at the foot of the 'gate. She's on the second stair when the event horizon dissolves, and there's no time to change direction.
She yells at Cam to keep going, and they run straight through the empty ring, rocks barely missing their heads. They fall awkwardly off the ledge at the back of the platform, but have a couple of seconds of reprieve from the rocks.
Sam stumbles for a split second as one grazes her leg, regains the pace, and they duck into the tree line, their pursuers hot on their heels.
*_*_*_*_*
After so many years, Sam's begun to take it as a personal affront when the 'gates don't work. She realizes how absurd this is--she is not responsible for every malfunction, every solar flare, every weird Ancient trick in the book. But she can't help it.
She digs through her pack, curses the Ancients and their technology, Cam, and herself for baiting him, for flirting with him earlier, when they'd still been high from their escape.
"I'm not a good girl."
She knows what this is. She's dealt with this before, knows to keep her mouth shut, look away. She knows how he'll react to things like that. And she can't stop.
Cam comes back. He watches her catalog the laptop and the batteries. If they can just get her a good hour without pursuit, she might be able to figure out what's wrong with the 'gate, and she tells him that, shrugs off his question about her leg. She's fine, and there's work to be done.
She turns on the computer, waits for it to boot up and gets her programs ready, runs a few scenarios. She'll have to be quick, and she wants everything ready, at her fingertips.
"We should wait until tomorrow," Cam says. "They might give up."
He sounds hopeful, and Sam shoots him a look, the look she cultivated to say You've got to be kidding me, sir..
Cam looks a little taken aback, and Sam softens her expression. She forgets, sometimes, that Cam really is as optimistic as he seems, that harshness cuts just that little bit deeper.
She must look guilty, because Cam breaks out a brilliant grin that says they're alright, and Sam rolls her eyes as they get ready to sleep.
*_*_*_*_*
It's a slow progression up the hill, and then a long, slow, careful planting of explosives far enough away that they'll have a clear path straight to the Stargate. Sam will never admit this to anyone, but she thinks all the terror and pain are worth it only when she's right in the middle of it, running or firing and hopped up on adrenaline. Afterward she's too bogged down with thinking about what she could have done better, or what she will do next time, but there's no time for that when enemies are firing at you, or the wormhole is in front of you.
She runs as hard as she can, dodging trees and bushes and always getting a little annoyed that Cam's still in front of her. It almost seems easy for him.
They skid into the valley and she drops by the DHD, fumbling for the computer, opening the panel in just under two seconds, hooking in the leads in even less time. The computer is the slowest part of the equation. It loads, finally, and starts diagnosing. Sam's focus is on the DHD itself. It looks fine, all the right crystals and connections in place and secured.
Damn.
There is nothing wrong with the 'gate, at least nothing she can see. Sam checks the computer screen. Normal. Everything reads normal, and while the more sensitive tests are still running, she is fairly sure they won't find anything, either.
She tries dialing. The 'gate grinds away, but nothing happens.
"How close?" Cam asks. Sam grimaces. It's only been ten minutes, tops.
"I can’t find anything wrong with it."
"Maybe it’s the gate itself,” Cameron offers.
She's not given the time to test that hypothesis. There's a sharp noise, and the computer practically leaps out of her hand. It takes her a split-second to register the broken screen and realize an ordinary rock just destroyed their only shot out of here, and then Cam's yelling and they're running again.
*_*_*_*_*
They hide out in a cave on top of the ridge by the 'gate. It's close enough to the 'gate to make their daily trips manageable, and sheltered enough that they won't be found--or freeze to death. Hopefully. There is no sign of the guards getting ready to leave anytime soon, and they're both coming down with something. Sam doesn't think it's too dangerous, but it's annoying and it could turn ugly if they are stuck here long-term.
Cameron looks miserable, small and shivering, and Sam takes pity on him and herself, zips the bags together, endures his questions about how long the SGC will keep trying the 'gate and when (for at least one day, every hour), how long they'll keep looking (forever), and then he asks her about how long they have to hide out until they decide to break the regs. He's trying to joke, but he doesn't quite make it.
Sam hugs her arms to her chest and shuts him down.
"Cameron, we've talked about this."
That they've talked about it is a testament to the way Cameron works. He doesn't leave half-said ideas floating around, or promise things with his eyes that he's not willing to say right out. He also doesn't allow you the option of remaining silent.
It's at once refreshing and utterly irritating.
“I know. I get it, I do. It’s just, we’re stranded-“
“For a whole seventy-two hours so far.”
“Yeah, and I just wanted to know what kind of timeframe I was looking at.”
Sam is pretty sure he means it to be flippant, humorous, but Cam doesn't lie very well. She hesitates, unwilling to joke around with him about this, and a little frustrated it's coming up at all.
“Do you get doing something like that would be like giving up hope for me? Like acknowledging that we were never going to see home again?”
Sam watches him struggle not to argue with her, sees his natural humor take over, smooth over her rejection. “So, not for a while then?”
He smiles, and eventually she lets herself smile back.
*_*_*_*_*
She lies awake that night, warmed by Cam's heat at her back, and curses her luck.
Cam has no patience. He's read all the reports, and could probably tell Sam a few things about the missions she's been on, but he hasn't been there, hasn't felt time in the same way.
Sam's worked in alien mines for weeks at a time, slept away days, destroyed worlds in minutes, agonized over seconds. It's different, off-world. Events take place in a rush, speeding past until you wind up with robot doubles and then watch them die. Until you wake up on an alien world with the wrong idea about who you are. Until you've watched your teammate, your friend, die in excruciating slowness back on Earth.
He'll figure it out. Hell, Sam knows he'll figure it out faster than she did.
She feels a pang, then. She wishes--
Cam turns over, away from her. Sam feels the loss of body heat immediately, stares into the dark for a few more minutes. She turns over and wraps herself against Cam's back, putting her face right behind his neck.
He shivers, stirs.
"Sam--" he starts to complain.
Sam puts a hand on his arm, and he stops talking.
"I'm cold," she whispers.
He takes her hand and pulls her arm around him.
*_*_*_*_*
Sam's blissfully warm when she wakes, and it takes her a minute to recognize that there are words coming from their radios. Cam fumbles to grab it, and Sam rolls away so she can sit up. She feels pretty stiff, but she doesn't feel as sick.
“Say again,” Cameron says.
“I said Mitchell, is that you?”
“Jackson! Where the hell are you?” Cameron looks relieved and anxious, all at once.
“Is Sam okay?” Daniel asks. Sam rolls her eyes and stretches, hunting down the most efficient path to her socks. It's cold out there.
Cam smirks at her, but replies to Daniel, “She’s fine. Where are you?”
“By the ‘gate with SG-23 and a bunch of pissed off locals that--I’m getting the distinct impression they still want to kill you.” He sounds more curious than anything.
“We’re up on the ridge. We’ll be down to you in a few. Can you make sure there’s no one around to take pot-shots at us? I think I’ve been hit by enough rocks to last me a lifetime.”
“I can’t make any guarantees,” Daniel warns.
Cam grins as he clicks off.
“We’re going home,” Cameron says.
Sam stops getting dressed and looks him in the eyes. There's still a trace of last night's conversation there, but Sam knows his happiness at the rescue, at their well-placed faith in their teammates, is the more important thing, today.
“Did you ever doubt it?” she asks. They give each other a slow smile. Cam laughs, and they go to meet their team and be rescued.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 03:51 pm (UTC)From::)
no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 06:35 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 06:31 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 06:35 pm (UTC)From:*grins*
no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 10:31 am (UTC)From:I am saving the rest of the fics for the weekend but I just *had* to read mine now now NOW! *squishes it*
Sam's worked in alien mines for weeks at a time, slept away days, destroyed worlds in minutes, agonized over seconds
This is just perfect - a lovely mirror and brackets to my story. Sam is spot on.
Thankyou for writing this. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 02:51 pm (UTC)From:*beams*
no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 11:12 am (UTC)From:Such a lovely dynamic between the two of them! *shippy sigh*
And Sam is so brilliant in her been-here-done-that-got-the-T-shirt-ness and that little touch of the unsure that she still harbors.
Loved it!
no subject
Date: 2008-07-29 02:54 pm (UTC)From: