Heliopolis Main Archive
A Stargate: SG-1 Fanfiction Site

Speaking of Cam

by Fig Newton
[Reviews - 0]   Printer
Table of Contents

- Text Size +
For [personal profile] sid: How Cam met Sam

Unofficial contests can turn cheerfully competitive or just plain intense. Eyeing the blonde cadet who was his only remaining opponent, Cam was glad that she was meeting his grin with her own sincere smile.

Cam won by a hair. They'd both made new records; his was just that little bit better. She accepted her defeat with good grace, only the glint in her eyes promising that next time they met, she would win.

"Nice shooting," he complimented her, holding out his hand. "I'm Cam Mitchell, by the way."

"Samantha Carter." Her handshake was firm, friendly. "My friends call me Sam."


For [info]sulien77: First glimpse of the F-302

Mitchell gently caressed the fuselage of the sleek little ship. She was beautiful.

"F-302, huh?" he murmured.

"That's right." The dispatcher's expression was amused.

Mitchell patted her one last time, then turned. "Sir, I was pulled off rotation..."

"Don't worry, Mitchell. You'll get plenty of simulator and real flight time before you face the enemy."

"The... enemy, sir?" Mitchell frowned. "I thought the F-302s were classified. If we're going to --"

"These aren't for the Middle East, son. They're designed for a different sort of fight." The dispatcher's smile widened. "You'll understand after the debriefing. It's a whole new world."


For [info]gategremlyn: Mitchell, Daniel, Vala and the "limited gene pool"

Cam is baffled by Vala's mocking observation about "limited gene pools." Other than their blue eyes and hair color, he and Jackson aren't alike at all -- especially with Jackson's current scruffy look, which Cam suspects might be less due to absentmindedness about shaving than a deliberate statement of Jackson's civilian status.

Later, Jackson observes that most Goa'uld worlds are populated by descendants of the Arabian peninsula, with some Greek and Chinese antecedents thrown in for good measure. For Vala, light-colored hair and eyes would be unusual enough to warrant comment.

Privately, Cam thinks that Vala just enjoys the teasing.


For [info]tangotabby: Mitchell and Jackson, not Cam and Daniel

Cam is painfully aware that he's suffering from hero worship. He can't help it; he admires SG-1 for their accomplishments, their triumphs, the difficulties they've surmounted. In Sam's case, his awe for Colonel Carter is tempered by the happy circumstance of an already cemented friendship. With Teal'c and Daniel Jackson, however, he has no such buffer.

He wants to work with these people. He can't do that if he's stammering, fighting the urge to stand at attention.

So he sticks to surnames: Jackson. Mitchell. The military habit automatically injects distance.

And after a while, those casual surnames mean friendship, too.


For [info]sg1danny: Disappearing reappearing pants

Okay, yes, the way he keeps losing his pants is downright embarrassing.

Cam ignores Jackson's stifled snigger, Sam's wicked grin, and Teal'c's amused eyebrow. He wraps his dignity around himself -- he has to, since his pants are too tattered to help -- and marches, head held high, towards the active Stargate. He's already anticipating catcalls and wolf whistles from the Marines, not to mention several extra pairs of pants appearing in his office over the next week.

But Cam doesn't care. Good-natured teasing means acceptance. Being a real part of SG-1 is worth a dozen pair of pants any day.


For [info]jagfanlj: Cam makes the near-fatal mistake of breaking an off-world taboo

Mitchell frowned at Jackson's limp as they were led through the building. It was bad enough to see Jackson hurt. But knowing he'd inadvertently caused it...

"Can't we explain that I didn't know?"

"Be quiet, Mitchell," Jackson hissed through gritted teeth. The guards opened the door to the council chamber and gestured them inside. "Let me try to smooth this over."

Mitchell winced. "Not gonna do any talking, believe me," he mumbled. Although it would helped if Jackson had actually warned him that only "scholars" were permitted to speak in public. To be fair, Jackson hadn't known either. But still.


For [info]sela21k: The day Cam realized he made a big mistake coming to the SGC

"This was all a huge mistake," Cam moaned, his voice muffled by his hands.

"What was?" Sam asked. "Trying to beat me at pool, or arm-wrestling Teal'c?"

"Possibly getting drunk," Jackson suggested.

Cam looked up, squinting. "It was a mistake to join the SGC. Should've stayed with the flyboys."

"In my experience," Teal'c said dryly, "Pilots also indulge in drinking contests, Colonel Mitchell. You would not be any safer had you failed to join Stargate Command."

"But I wouldn't be losing bets about off-world missions," Cam said plaintively.

Sam patted his shoulder comfortingly. "You'll do better next time."


For [info]campylobacter: "When the time comes, cut the green one."

Cam stared at the tangled wires, looked back at his unconscious teammates, and hesitated.

"When the time comes, cut the green one."

That's what the other Cam said.

...Yeah. The alternate self who'd been willing to sell out an entire reality.

Yet they'd talked about it afterwards -- up, down, sideways. Sam argued that they were the same people -- different pasts, other choices, but ultimately all Mitchells, Carters, Jacksons and Teal'cs.

So it came down to this: Was he the kind of person who'd lie for the sake of a revenge he'd never see or know?

Cam cut the green one.


For [info]lokei: Things he wishes he could tell the new recruits

Cam watches the new recruits, the extra swagger in their stride and the confident gleam in their eyes. They know they're the best, chosen because of their outstanding records. He wishes he could warn them, and that they'd listen.

Cam walked open-eyed into Stargate Command, after nearly dying in Antarctica and then clawing his way back to his feet. He knows what horrors lie beyond the Gate. And despite that, he's ruefully aware that he's often headstrong when they're off-world, taking dangerous risks.

You're not invulnerable, he wants to tell them. But they'll have to discover that themselves.


For [info]thothmes: Cam, macaroons

Once, Cam makes the mistake of mentioning "comfort food" to Jackson. After ten minutes of animated discourse about sociological and psychological implications associated with childhood memories and translating that into understanding other cultures, Cam finds himself backing away, smiling fixedly.

But he knows Jackson's right. For Cam, macaroons evoke warmth and hugs, oddly mixed with the scent of Grandma's hairspray. Why macaroons rather than Mom's fabulous pie? Cam doesn't know; he just accepts it.

He offers macaroons to Sam, once. They don't work for her -- different associations. He's deeply touched when she remembers, though, and brings him macaroons in turn.


For [personal profile] princessofgeeks: Fallout from Talion

Long past midnight, after everyone left, Mitchell slipped into the infirmary.

"Colonel Mitchell," Teal'c said, his eyes still closed.

"Teal'c." Mitchell sat down. "I just need to know -- we gonna be okay?"

Teal'c opened his eyes then, looking calm. "You are not the first Tau'ri I have known to receive official orders he disliked, yet still obeyed," he observed.

"Oh." Mitchell thought of mission reports he'd read about Maybourne and Makepeace. "Well... good."

"Also," Teal'c added, "I thrashed you. Thoroughly."

"Yeah." Mitchell smiled wryly as he shifted, wincing at the stabbing pain from face and hand. "Sure can't forget that."


For [info]hooloovoo_42: Stuck on a spaceship for 50 years with nothing to do but jog

Cam is a flyboy. Always was, always will be. Flying through the Gate to other planets, rather than through Earth's atmosphere, is just another venue.

But now Cam can't fly, even though he stands on the deck of a massive ship in space, light years from Earth. He's frozen in time, waiting, waiting, wanting to do and forced only to hope that Sam can work another technological miracle.

So he runs, almost frantically, jogging through the empty corridors until the sweat stings his eyes and his breath whistles. Maybe if he's fast enough, he can outrun entropy to fly again.
You must login (register) to review.

Site Navigation

Support Heliopolis