jadelyntate (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jadelyntate) wrote2010-03-14 12:14 pm
jadelyntate) wrote2010-03-14 12:14 pm
Entry tags:
Four Times Cam Met SG-1 and One Time He Didn't, PG
Story: Four Times Cam Met SG-1 and One Time He Didn't
Author: Jadelyn Tate
Disclaimer: If you think I own any of these characters, you're obviously delusional. SyFy owns Stargate.
Summary: See title
Author Notes: This was a fun little thing and honestly, the one that took the longest was Jack's cause, um, yeah. While this is primarily the SG-1 cast, it does have a brief appearance of 2 certain Atlantis alum. Also, there are hints of slash but just hints. :D
Samantha Carter
“Jacob.”
“Frank.”
Cam Mitchell looked shyly up at the man his father was shaking hands with. Half bald and wearing dress blues, he was the epitome of a General to the seven year old boy.
“This must be Cameron,” General Carter said, looking down at him with a smile. Cam smiled back, his tongue half-poking out of the gap in his teeth.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” he greeted him. The General laughed.
“Have him well trained, already, I see,” he said.
“Don't tell me you don't have plans for that daughter of yours,” Frank smiled. “I've heard she's a smart one. Myers mentioned something about NASA.”
“Space Camp,” the General said and he smiled proudly, like Daddy did whenever Cam brought home his homework with a gold star. “What can I say? She takes after her mother.”
The two men laughed as a girl a few years older than Cam was dragged over by an even older boy. Cam hid behind his Daddy as the boy started complaining about the girl, Samantha, following him everywhere.
“I told you to keep an eye on her while I made my rounds,” the General started but Cam stopped paying attention. The boy reminded him of Johnny Baker, a fifth grader at school. He and Johnny Baker didn't get along, ever since Cam punched him for chasing a bunch of kindergartners at recess—his daddy always said to be 'spectful of everyone and that was NOT being 'spectful.
“I'm Cameron,” he finally got up the courage to smile at the pretty blonde. She looked at him in surprise before smiling back.
“Samantha Carter,” she told him. She paused. “How old are you?”
“I'll be eight in a few weeks.”
“I'm ten,” she said. She paused again, glancing furtively at the two adults, neither of whom seemed to be paying attention to them. “I found a playground.”
Cam's eyes lit up. “Really?!”
She nodded. “As long as you don't make fun of me, I'll take you there,” she promised.
Cam immediately tugged on his daddy's pants leg.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, Samantha found a playground, can I go, please, I promise I'll be good, please, please, please!”
“The playground out back?” the General asked and Samantha nodded solemnly. He looked at Cam's Daddy. “She'll keep an eye on him. And they're less likely to get bored today if they're together.”
“Alright, son, but you listen to Miss Samantha,” his daddy agreed and Cam bounced in place.
“Thank you daddy!”
“Miss Samantha, he gives you any problems, just let me know,” Daddy told Samantha who nodded just as solemnly as she had to her father.
“Yes sir,” she murmured and then held out a hand for Cam. Cam grasped it and started tugging. Samantha giggled and allowed herself to be dragged out of the building.
“Come on, come on, lets go, lets go!”
Daniel Jackson
Thirteen year old Cam looked around the room he was in. His school had sponsored a trip to New York and the many, many museums therein. His mother was one of the chaperones so he couldn't goof off but the sheer amount of...stuff...was insane. And this museum happened to be packed with students today so Cam didn't even know where half his school was (he only knew they were even still there because Mr. Schue was a giant who could be seen anywhere).
Finally getting a bit claustrophobic, Cam slipped through a door and found a much less crowded room. Besides him and another kid, the only other people were the statues dotting the room. Wandering among them, he kept an eye on the floppy-haired teen in the corner who looked like he was hiding.
“Could you please stop staring at me?” the boy requested. “I have homework I have to get done.”
“You're on a field trip,” Cam pointed out. “Who does homework on a field trip?”
“I'm not on a field trip,” the guy said, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “I graduated school early and am here working on translating something for my professor.”
Cam's eyebrows shot up. He'd never heard of people graduating early except on TV. “So, what, you're like a genuis or something?”
“Or something,” the guy muttered. He looked up and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “What are you doing in here, anyway? I thought you'd be checking out the art exhibit on the third floor, not the Canaanite room.”
“Canaanite?” Cam asked blankly cause, hey, he was thirteen. The guy smiled slightly.
“An semantic religion from the early Bronze age to the first centuries post Christ,” he explained. “They were monopolistic.”
“Mono?” Cam asked, brow furrowing. “Isn't that, like, the kissing cooties disease or something?”
The guy snorted a laugh. “Monopolistic,” he corrected. “It means they worshiped one god but acknowledged the existence of other gods and goddesses.”
“Oh,” Cam said and he could feel a blush covering his face. “So, smarty-pants, who's this guy?”
The guy looked at the statue Cam had pointed to. His eyes narrowed a moment before he smiled. “Ba'al,” he answered and Cam felt a shiver race up his spine though he had no idea why. The guy continued, either not noticing Cam's discomfort or ignoring it. “A storm God, some considered him the ruler of Heaven.”
“Cam!”
He and the guy looked up at his name being called. His mother was in the doorway of the Canaanite room. “There you are! I've been looking all over for you.”
“You're lucky you found me,” he muttered, thinking of all the students outside the room. The guy choked on a laugh and Cam added hurriedly “I was just checking out the statues. This guy was named Balls.”
“Ba'al,” the teen corrected. He held out his hand to Cam's mother. “Daniel Jackson.”
“Wendy Mitchell,” she smiled. “Cam's my son. I hope he wasn't interrupting anything.”
“No,” Daniel smiled shyly. “I needed a break from studying anyway.”
“What are you studying?”
“Semantic languages,” Daniel answered. “My professor wants a translation and paper on Friday.”
“Ew,” Cam grimaced. His mother and Daniel shot him amused looks.
“Well, we have to get going, we're going to check out the Metropolitan here soon,” Wendy said and Daniel nodded. He had a faraway look in his eye, kinda bittersweet.
“I suggest the Egyptian art section,” he said quietly, focusing back on them. “It's one of the best outside of Egypt.”
“Thank you, I think we'll do that,” Wendy smiled. “It was nice to meet you Daniel.”
“You too Mrs. Mitchell, Cam.”
“Bye Daniel!”
Jack O'Neill
Cam was a smart man. He wasn't a genius, sure, but no one could argue he wasn't smart. You didn't get into the Air Force Academy because you were dumb. Some of the Firstie's seemed to be testing that theory. Cam thought they should have just gone to Annapolis or New London (not Kings Point though because marines were dumb enough already).
The point was, Cam was a smart man. He knew the moment he walked into the game hall that they were the odd ducks, military city or not. Cam wasn't twenty-one so he didn't even bother trying to weasel alcohol out of the pretty bartender, instead heading straight to the pool table in the back. He snagged a passing waitress and politely asked for a bottle of water. The woman melted and agreed once she got the glass of beer to a rambunctious group in the back.
Cam had already beaten two locals, who took the loss with grace, when one of his teammates came over and demanded a game. The man was one of the aforementioned firsties and thought he was the stud of the Academy, claiming no girl didn't want a piece of him. Cam agreed to play mostly because the guy had gotten tipsy so he figured it was an easy win and partly because Cam had been wanting to put the guy in his place for ages.. Then one of the other football players came over and suggested doubles.
Cam was saved from having to ask one of the other football players (he mentally cursed Bryce for having a date) when Sheppard and Lorne, two of his fellow third years, wandered over and offered. Seeing the look in Sheppard's eye Cam often knew was in his own when dealing with the upper cadets, he immediately agreed. Lorne nodded and sat back to watch the show. As they got the table set up, his mind wandered to a rumor around school that Sheppard and Lorne had just gotten off punishment for defending one of the fourth year women from the unwanted advances of a second year.
Just before he broke, he looked up and caught the eye of an older man in jeans, black shirt, and leather jacket watching the game from one of the corners. Focusing back on the table, he played. Sheppard turned out to be really good, possibly even better than Cam (though he'd have to be really effing drunk to admit that). They wiped the floor of the first years and reluctantly agreed to another game.
Two hours later, Sheppard and he had won their fifth game and the idiot firsties were trying to get out of paying the two hundred they owed. Cam, Sheppard, and Lorne exchanged looks and had just silently decided to let it go when the man he'd noticed earlier approached.
“Cadets,” the man said, looking at the first years with a clearly disapproving look in his eye. One of the guys in the back gaped at the guy like an idiot and Cam wondered what that was about, especially when he started muttering to the guys around him. Behind him, Lorne muttered something but Cam wasn't able to make it out. The guy looked them over critically. “What's the problem?”
“None, sir,” the first year shrugged, apparently not noticing the guy in the back trying to get his attention. “They cheated.”
“I was watching the games,” the man said. “They didn't cheat. They just beat the shit out of you.”
He shot Cam and Sheppard an impressed look before turning a stony look back on the first years. “I don't think I need to remind you that gambling is against Academy policy,” he said easily. “Not that I have anything against it of course but policy is policy.”
“What the fuck would a civilian know about Academy policy?” the first year asked. The guy in back (Peterson, his distracted mind finally supplied) groaned and hit his palm on his forehead. The guys eyes flickered with amusement.
“Who the hell said I was a civilian?” he asked. He gave the group a tight-lipped smile. “Colonel Jack O'Neill, Air Force.”
Cam, Lorne, and Sheppard looked at each other in shock even as they straightened to attention. Their expressions had nothing on the first years though and Cam found himself hard pressed not to laugh.
Jack O'Neill was a legend at the Academy, like Carter was slowly becoming in the sciences. Half the school records were by him, everyone knew he was high end black ops, and he was a damn amazing pilot to boot. The first years stuttered at the colonel, who finally rolled his eyes.
“Pay the cadets who beat your ass and I won't tell the Commandant,” he ordered and Cam suddenly found his arms full of twenties and fifties. Sheppard smirked and grabbed a fist full to place on the table, carefully counting it all out as the colonel gave the guys a lecture about gambling, and drinking, and getting caught. The three second years exchanged highly amused looks as their teammates seemed to shrink smaller and smaller the longer the lecture went on. Finally, just as they finished dividing the money, O'Neill finished and let them go. A soft chuckling off to the side made O'Neill turn.
“Considering what we got up to back in our Academy days,” a new man drawled. “You'd think you'd go easier on em.”
O'Neill snorted. “These three didn't agree to play just because they'd be an easy win,” he said and Cam blinked; were they really that obvious? The man nodded as understanding fluttered across his face. He smiled wryly at the three cadets.
“Major Charles Kawalsky,” he introduced himself and Cam twitched, wondering if he should salute. Something might have showed on his face because Kawalsky and O'Neill chuckled. Smiling slightly, Cam, Sheppard, and Lorne introduced themselves. O'Neill's eyes flickered.
“I knew your father and grandfather,” O'Neill told Cam who blinked at him. “Frank must be happy to see you're following in his footsteps.”
“That would be an understatement, sir,” Cam said wryly. O'Neill chuckled and then turned to Sheppard.
“You wouldn't happen to be related to Nathan and Christopher Sheppard, would you?” he asked and Sheppard nodded, swallowing.
“My uncle and grandfather, sir,” he said quietly and O'Neill grinned at him.
“Good men, them,” he said. “Chris and I served together in 'Nam and your uncle got me out of trouble once too.”
“That's a switch,” Sheppard muttered. O'Neill and Kawalsky both chuckled. Cam and Lorne's confusion must have shown on their faces because Sheppard smirked at them. “My uncle was usually the one getting into trouble.”
“By the way, good games today,” Kawalsky said, motioning to the table. He glanced at O'Neill, who nodded with a smirk. “What do you say to just one more?”
Cam and Sheppard looked at each other as Lorne sat back down to enjoy the show.
Teal'c
“Hi, can I sit here?”
The large man looked up, his hat shielding half his face. He nodded and Cam thought there was something almost regal about it.
“So, you're a civilian, aren't you?” Cam asked. It wasn't a terrible conversation opener but it wasn't exactly his best—they were at a top secret military compound after all. Cam still had no idea why he was here but he figured he'd find out eventually. It had to do with a new plane and some sort of defense network, he knew that much.
“Indeed.”
“So what brings you by?”
“My companions are presenting,” the large man explained simply. “I accompanied them.”
“Bodyguard?”
“Captain Carter, O'Neill, and Daniel Jackson are quite capable of defending themselves.”
Something about the names niggled at the back of Cam's head but he didn't know why. Shrugging it off, he speared a piece of broccoli. “You'd think they'd serve better food at a top secret military base,” he said lightly.
“I find the fare quite tasteful.”
“You are so not from the States,” Cam snorted. “Actually liking the US military food is a dead giveaway.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
Cam's eyes narrowed as he tried figuring out if the guy was making fun of him or not. He was extremely hard to read, his expression not changing a bit. Finally deciding it didn't matter, he went back to eating.
~~**~~
Aliens.
Aliens who burrowed in the back of the neck and took control and had a really bad God complex. It sounded like a bad plot for a B movie and Cam would have laughed it off as the mad ramblings of a drunk if the man explaining it all to him wasn't a colonel in the US Air Force that Cam admired and respected.
Bryce would have loved this, went through Cam's mind before he pushed it and the accompanying guilt to the back of his head. He had enough to think about without adding Bryce to the mix.
“So, in order to explain the alien footsoldiers and the likely tactics they'd use in their gliders, and to explain the gliders in the first place, I'd like to introduce my good friend Teal'c.”
Cam watched as the man he'd eaten lunch with stood up from the front row and stepped onto the stage. “Teal'c is a Jaffa but he defected cause he's just awesome like that...”
The rest of Colonel O'Neill's introduction was lost as Teal'c caught Cam's eye and nodded at him. Cam swallowed and did the thing he really could.
He nodded back.
….and one time he didn't
Cam Mitchell, chronologically misplaced and former colonel in the US Air Force, couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd heard so many stories about SG-1's trip to 1969 but...part of him had always assumed Carter, Jackson, and Teal'c had been stretching the truth.
But there they were, dressed like hippies, and talking as they filled up on gas. The irony of their stories and teasing about O'Neill and him and what was happening was not lost on him. He watched as they finished up and then got back on the bus. Cam swallowed harshly, fighting the urge to run after them and ask them to take him home. He stood by his car and watched as they pulled back onto the road and disappeared from sight. Taking a deep breathe, he filled up his car, paid, and pulled out onto the road, going in the opposite direction SG-1 had gone.
Seeing them, at least, had proved one thing to him. It proved Ba'al's plan hadn't worked, that Cam's sacrifice was worth it, that the time-line was as it should be. Pulling into his drive, he waved at his very pregnant mother and entered his house across the street.
Cameron Jackson, 74, resident of Auborn, Kansas, passed away in his sleep Monday night. He is survived by Frank and Wendy Mitchell, long-time friends. A memorial is set for Saturday...
Author: Jadelyn Tate
Disclaimer: If you think I own any of these characters, you're obviously delusional. SyFy owns Stargate.
Summary: See title
Author Notes: This was a fun little thing and honestly, the one that took the longest was Jack's cause, um, yeah. While this is primarily the SG-1 cast, it does have a brief appearance of 2 certain Atlantis alum. Also, there are hints of slash but just hints. :D
Samantha Carter
“Jacob.”
“Frank.”
Cam Mitchell looked shyly up at the man his father was shaking hands with. Half bald and wearing dress blues, he was the epitome of a General to the seven year old boy.
“This must be Cameron,” General Carter said, looking down at him with a smile. Cam smiled back, his tongue half-poking out of the gap in his teeth.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” he greeted him. The General laughed.
“Have him well trained, already, I see,” he said.
“Don't tell me you don't have plans for that daughter of yours,” Frank smiled. “I've heard she's a smart one. Myers mentioned something about NASA.”
“Space Camp,” the General said and he smiled proudly, like Daddy did whenever Cam brought home his homework with a gold star. “What can I say? She takes after her mother.”
The two men laughed as a girl a few years older than Cam was dragged over by an even older boy. Cam hid behind his Daddy as the boy started complaining about the girl, Samantha, following him everywhere.
“I told you to keep an eye on her while I made my rounds,” the General started but Cam stopped paying attention. The boy reminded him of Johnny Baker, a fifth grader at school. He and Johnny Baker didn't get along, ever since Cam punched him for chasing a bunch of kindergartners at recess—his daddy always said to be 'spectful of everyone and that was NOT being 'spectful.
“I'm Cameron,” he finally got up the courage to smile at the pretty blonde. She looked at him in surprise before smiling back.
“Samantha Carter,” she told him. She paused. “How old are you?”
“I'll be eight in a few weeks.”
“I'm ten,” she said. She paused again, glancing furtively at the two adults, neither of whom seemed to be paying attention to them. “I found a playground.”
Cam's eyes lit up. “Really?!”
She nodded. “As long as you don't make fun of me, I'll take you there,” she promised.
Cam immediately tugged on his daddy's pants leg.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, Samantha found a playground, can I go, please, I promise I'll be good, please, please, please!”
“The playground out back?” the General asked and Samantha nodded solemnly. He looked at Cam's Daddy. “She'll keep an eye on him. And they're less likely to get bored today if they're together.”
“Alright, son, but you listen to Miss Samantha,” his daddy agreed and Cam bounced in place.
“Thank you daddy!”
“Miss Samantha, he gives you any problems, just let me know,” Daddy told Samantha who nodded just as solemnly as she had to her father.
“Yes sir,” she murmured and then held out a hand for Cam. Cam grasped it and started tugging. Samantha giggled and allowed herself to be dragged out of the building.
“Come on, come on, lets go, lets go!”
Daniel Jackson
Thirteen year old Cam looked around the room he was in. His school had sponsored a trip to New York and the many, many museums therein. His mother was one of the chaperones so he couldn't goof off but the sheer amount of...stuff...was insane. And this museum happened to be packed with students today so Cam didn't even know where half his school was (he only knew they were even still there because Mr. Schue was a giant who could be seen anywhere).
Finally getting a bit claustrophobic, Cam slipped through a door and found a much less crowded room. Besides him and another kid, the only other people were the statues dotting the room. Wandering among them, he kept an eye on the floppy-haired teen in the corner who looked like he was hiding.
“Could you please stop staring at me?” the boy requested. “I have homework I have to get done.”
“You're on a field trip,” Cam pointed out. “Who does homework on a field trip?”
“I'm not on a field trip,” the guy said, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “I graduated school early and am here working on translating something for my professor.”
Cam's eyebrows shot up. He'd never heard of people graduating early except on TV. “So, what, you're like a genuis or something?”
“Or something,” the guy muttered. He looked up and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “What are you doing in here, anyway? I thought you'd be checking out the art exhibit on the third floor, not the Canaanite room.”
“Canaanite?” Cam asked blankly cause, hey, he was thirteen. The guy smiled slightly.
“An semantic religion from the early Bronze age to the first centuries post Christ,” he explained. “They were monopolistic.”
“Mono?” Cam asked, brow furrowing. “Isn't that, like, the kissing cooties disease or something?”
The guy snorted a laugh. “Monopolistic,” he corrected. “It means they worshiped one god but acknowledged the existence of other gods and goddesses.”
“Oh,” Cam said and he could feel a blush covering his face. “So, smarty-pants, who's this guy?”
The guy looked at the statue Cam had pointed to. His eyes narrowed a moment before he smiled. “Ba'al,” he answered and Cam felt a shiver race up his spine though he had no idea why. The guy continued, either not noticing Cam's discomfort or ignoring it. “A storm God, some considered him the ruler of Heaven.”
“Cam!”
He and the guy looked up at his name being called. His mother was in the doorway of the Canaanite room. “There you are! I've been looking all over for you.”
“You're lucky you found me,” he muttered, thinking of all the students outside the room. The guy choked on a laugh and Cam added hurriedly “I was just checking out the statues. This guy was named Balls.”
“Ba'al,” the teen corrected. He held out his hand to Cam's mother. “Daniel Jackson.”
“Wendy Mitchell,” she smiled. “Cam's my son. I hope he wasn't interrupting anything.”
“No,” Daniel smiled shyly. “I needed a break from studying anyway.”
“What are you studying?”
“Semantic languages,” Daniel answered. “My professor wants a translation and paper on Friday.”
“Ew,” Cam grimaced. His mother and Daniel shot him amused looks.
“Well, we have to get going, we're going to check out the Metropolitan here soon,” Wendy said and Daniel nodded. He had a faraway look in his eye, kinda bittersweet.
“I suggest the Egyptian art section,” he said quietly, focusing back on them. “It's one of the best outside of Egypt.”
“Thank you, I think we'll do that,” Wendy smiled. “It was nice to meet you Daniel.”
“You too Mrs. Mitchell, Cam.”
“Bye Daniel!”
Jack O'Neill
Cam was a smart man. He wasn't a genius, sure, but no one could argue he wasn't smart. You didn't get into the Air Force Academy because you were dumb. Some of the Firstie's seemed to be testing that theory. Cam thought they should have just gone to Annapolis or New London (not Kings Point though because marines were dumb enough already).
The point was, Cam was a smart man. He knew the moment he walked into the game hall that they were the odd ducks, military city or not. Cam wasn't twenty-one so he didn't even bother trying to weasel alcohol out of the pretty bartender, instead heading straight to the pool table in the back. He snagged a passing waitress and politely asked for a bottle of water. The woman melted and agreed once she got the glass of beer to a rambunctious group in the back.
Cam had already beaten two locals, who took the loss with grace, when one of his teammates came over and demanded a game. The man was one of the aforementioned firsties and thought he was the stud of the Academy, claiming no girl didn't want a piece of him. Cam agreed to play mostly because the guy had gotten tipsy so he figured it was an easy win and partly because Cam had been wanting to put the guy in his place for ages.. Then one of the other football players came over and suggested doubles.
Cam was saved from having to ask one of the other football players (he mentally cursed Bryce for having a date) when Sheppard and Lorne, two of his fellow third years, wandered over and offered. Seeing the look in Sheppard's eye Cam often knew was in his own when dealing with the upper cadets, he immediately agreed. Lorne nodded and sat back to watch the show. As they got the table set up, his mind wandered to a rumor around school that Sheppard and Lorne had just gotten off punishment for defending one of the fourth year women from the unwanted advances of a second year.
Just before he broke, he looked up and caught the eye of an older man in jeans, black shirt, and leather jacket watching the game from one of the corners. Focusing back on the table, he played. Sheppard turned out to be really good, possibly even better than Cam (though he'd have to be really effing drunk to admit that). They wiped the floor of the first years and reluctantly agreed to another game.
Two hours later, Sheppard and he had won their fifth game and the idiot firsties were trying to get out of paying the two hundred they owed. Cam, Sheppard, and Lorne exchanged looks and had just silently decided to let it go when the man he'd noticed earlier approached.
“Cadets,” the man said, looking at the first years with a clearly disapproving look in his eye. One of the guys in the back gaped at the guy like an idiot and Cam wondered what that was about, especially when he started muttering to the guys around him. Behind him, Lorne muttered something but Cam wasn't able to make it out. The guy looked them over critically. “What's the problem?”
“None, sir,” the first year shrugged, apparently not noticing the guy in the back trying to get his attention. “They cheated.”
“I was watching the games,” the man said. “They didn't cheat. They just beat the shit out of you.”
He shot Cam and Sheppard an impressed look before turning a stony look back on the first years. “I don't think I need to remind you that gambling is against Academy policy,” he said easily. “Not that I have anything against it of course but policy is policy.”
“What the fuck would a civilian know about Academy policy?” the first year asked. The guy in back (Peterson, his distracted mind finally supplied) groaned and hit his palm on his forehead. The guys eyes flickered with amusement.
“Who the hell said I was a civilian?” he asked. He gave the group a tight-lipped smile. “Colonel Jack O'Neill, Air Force.”
Cam, Lorne, and Sheppard looked at each other in shock even as they straightened to attention. Their expressions had nothing on the first years though and Cam found himself hard pressed not to laugh.
Jack O'Neill was a legend at the Academy, like Carter was slowly becoming in the sciences. Half the school records were by him, everyone knew he was high end black ops, and he was a damn amazing pilot to boot. The first years stuttered at the colonel, who finally rolled his eyes.
“Pay the cadets who beat your ass and I won't tell the Commandant,” he ordered and Cam suddenly found his arms full of twenties and fifties. Sheppard smirked and grabbed a fist full to place on the table, carefully counting it all out as the colonel gave the guys a lecture about gambling, and drinking, and getting caught. The three second years exchanged highly amused looks as their teammates seemed to shrink smaller and smaller the longer the lecture went on. Finally, just as they finished dividing the money, O'Neill finished and let them go. A soft chuckling off to the side made O'Neill turn.
“Considering what we got up to back in our Academy days,” a new man drawled. “You'd think you'd go easier on em.”
O'Neill snorted. “These three didn't agree to play just because they'd be an easy win,” he said and Cam blinked; were they really that obvious? The man nodded as understanding fluttered across his face. He smiled wryly at the three cadets.
“Major Charles Kawalsky,” he introduced himself and Cam twitched, wondering if he should salute. Something might have showed on his face because Kawalsky and O'Neill chuckled. Smiling slightly, Cam, Sheppard, and Lorne introduced themselves. O'Neill's eyes flickered.
“I knew your father and grandfather,” O'Neill told Cam who blinked at him. “Frank must be happy to see you're following in his footsteps.”
“That would be an understatement, sir,” Cam said wryly. O'Neill chuckled and then turned to Sheppard.
“You wouldn't happen to be related to Nathan and Christopher Sheppard, would you?” he asked and Sheppard nodded, swallowing.
“My uncle and grandfather, sir,” he said quietly and O'Neill grinned at him.
“Good men, them,” he said. “Chris and I served together in 'Nam and your uncle got me out of trouble once too.”
“That's a switch,” Sheppard muttered. O'Neill and Kawalsky both chuckled. Cam and Lorne's confusion must have shown on their faces because Sheppard smirked at them. “My uncle was usually the one getting into trouble.”
“By the way, good games today,” Kawalsky said, motioning to the table. He glanced at O'Neill, who nodded with a smirk. “What do you say to just one more?”
Cam and Sheppard looked at each other as Lorne sat back down to enjoy the show.
Teal'c
“Hi, can I sit here?”
The large man looked up, his hat shielding half his face. He nodded and Cam thought there was something almost regal about it.
“So, you're a civilian, aren't you?” Cam asked. It wasn't a terrible conversation opener but it wasn't exactly his best—they were at a top secret military compound after all. Cam still had no idea why he was here but he figured he'd find out eventually. It had to do with a new plane and some sort of defense network, he knew that much.
“Indeed.”
“So what brings you by?”
“My companions are presenting,” the large man explained simply. “I accompanied them.”
“Bodyguard?”
“Captain Carter, O'Neill, and Daniel Jackson are quite capable of defending themselves.”
Something about the names niggled at the back of Cam's head but he didn't know why. Shrugging it off, he speared a piece of broccoli. “You'd think they'd serve better food at a top secret military base,” he said lightly.
“I find the fare quite tasteful.”
“You are so not from the States,” Cam snorted. “Actually liking the US military food is a dead giveaway.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
Cam's eyes narrowed as he tried figuring out if the guy was making fun of him or not. He was extremely hard to read, his expression not changing a bit. Finally deciding it didn't matter, he went back to eating.
~~**~~
Aliens.
Aliens who burrowed in the back of the neck and took control and had a really bad God complex. It sounded like a bad plot for a B movie and Cam would have laughed it off as the mad ramblings of a drunk if the man explaining it all to him wasn't a colonel in the US Air Force that Cam admired and respected.
Bryce would have loved this, went through Cam's mind before he pushed it and the accompanying guilt to the back of his head. He had enough to think about without adding Bryce to the mix.
“So, in order to explain the alien footsoldiers and the likely tactics they'd use in their gliders, and to explain the gliders in the first place, I'd like to introduce my good friend Teal'c.”
Cam watched as the man he'd eaten lunch with stood up from the front row and stepped onto the stage. “Teal'c is a Jaffa but he defected cause he's just awesome like that...”
The rest of Colonel O'Neill's introduction was lost as Teal'c caught Cam's eye and nodded at him. Cam swallowed and did the thing he really could.
He nodded back.
….and one time he didn't
Cam Mitchell, chronologically misplaced and former colonel in the US Air Force, couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd heard so many stories about SG-1's trip to 1969 but...part of him had always assumed Carter, Jackson, and Teal'c had been stretching the truth.
But there they were, dressed like hippies, and talking as they filled up on gas. The irony of their stories and teasing about O'Neill and him and what was happening was not lost on him. He watched as they finished up and then got back on the bus. Cam swallowed harshly, fighting the urge to run after them and ask them to take him home. He stood by his car and watched as they pulled back onto the road and disappeared from sight. Taking a deep breathe, he filled up his car, paid, and pulled out onto the road, going in the opposite direction SG-1 had gone.
Seeing them, at least, had proved one thing to him. It proved Ba'al's plan hadn't worked, that Cam's sacrifice was worth it, that the time-line was as it should be. Pulling into his drive, he waved at his very pregnant mother and entered his house across the street.
Cameron Jackson, 74, resident of Auborn, Kansas, passed away in his sleep Monday night. He is survived by Frank and Wendy Mitchell, long-time friends. A memorial is set for Saturday...