Several drabbles in which Cameron Mitchell meets a Doctor (you know, THAT one)

1.

He had been only three when, on a hot summer night, he had heard a strange grinding noise coming from the night sky and crawled from his bed to the open window, looking out to see a strange blue box hovering amongst the stars.

Cam had stared, wide-eyed, with small fingers reaching as it seemed to float ever closer, close enough that to see that what looked like a door was opening with an arm sticking out and a head following. The arm held something out at an angle, pointing this way and that, with the box following each twist.

He climbed out onto the sill, balancing easily on the wide ledge.

"Yes, yes, that's quite enough," the man was saying. Cam heard a shout from inside the strange box and the man let out a deep sigh. "Have a little faith; I have done this before."

The voice responded and the man frowned, shaking his shaggy head, blinking as he caught sight of Cam on his perch.

"Oh, hello!"

"Hello," Cam had said. "Who're you?" He pointed a small finger at the box. "Wha's that?"

"My, what a marvellous accent!" The man exclaimed. "This is my ship. Lovely, isn't it?"

Cam blinked. It looked nothing like the ships from his picture books. "I's a ship?"

"Why, isn't it obvious?" the man said with a deep smile on his face.

The voice from within came again, with a loud "Doctor!" that had the man twisting his head back and shouting "Just a moment!" He turned back to Cam.

"So sorry, don't mean to be rude, but must away, important things to do." The man's other arm appeared and he made a shooing motion, looking as if he would topple right out the door when the ship moved with him. "Now there's a good lad, back inside with you and straight to bed."

Cam crawled in but kept his eyes on the ship, catching the man ducking back in through the door and shutting it with a quiet snap. The grinding grew in pitch and Cam wondered that no one had come to see about the noise, when the ship shot straight up and vanished into the stars.

Cam made a small, secret promise that one day he would follow it.

2.

It was several days after the Incident that Cameron found himself in a London airport waiting for his connector to the states. He sat in one of the hard plastic chairs with trembling hands hanging between his knees. He tuned out the noises around him, his mind flying backwards towards a stretch of road, the convoy that had travelled it, and the lives he had taken. Every thought ended with fire and death.

He blinked when someone came to stand in front of him, holding out a paper cup of coffee. He looked up at the person holding it, a blonde girl who also held another.

"Go on," she said nudging it a little forward. "Take it. You look like you could use it."

The strong odour made his stomach twist but he reached out and took it anyway, cradling it.

"Thank you," Cam said.

"Don't mention it." The girl seated herself across from him and sipped at her own steaming cup. "You just looked like you really needed one; I mean, I've been stuck here waiting for this guy, my friend, who just wandered off without me, and I couldn't help noticing you earlier. It looks like you've been stuck here a long time too."

Cam couldn't help the smile that the girl's babble elicited. "Not too long, it's just a layover." Cam continued, "I'm on leave for a few days; just trying to get home." He stopped and took a deep breath, tried to stop his hands from shaking.

"Hey," the girl soothed as she reached out to grab his hand, pulling the cup away. "Hey, it's alright, you're alright."

Cam managed a soft wet chuckle. "Do I really look that bad?"

The girl smiled back. "Honestly, yeah." She paused. "Your eyes have the same look that my friend has when he remembers, when he talks about his home."

"What look is that?"

"Regret," she bit at her lip. "It's a look of weight and regret that's so heavy I just, I don't know if anything can fix it. It's the look of someone who had done something that they can't forgive themselves for."

"Yeah," he closed his eyes, feeling tears well up. "The worst kind of thing."

Slender arms surrounded him, and he felt shielded. He felt the words well up but still they wouldn't pass his lips, but that was fine. He didn't need to say anything.

She held him until they called his flight and then they parted, a bittersweet smile on her face and a less haggard look on his own. It wasn't fixed; most likely would never be fixed, but he felt better, and for the moment that was enough.

As Cameron entered the boarding gate he chanced a look back and caught site of a tall man in a leather coat greet the girl, watched as she wrapped her arms around him, and he couldn't tell which one was the comforter. The tall man's eyes travelled across the room and met Cam's own. The man nodded and pulled his companion away.

She was right. Cam did recognize the look in the man's eyes. It was the same look that now haunted his own.

Godspeed, he thought.

3.

"Absolute rubbish!"

The sound of paper being shuffled filtered slowly into Cameron's drowsy mind.

"Tsk. Now now, that won't do at all," the deep voice grumbled loudly. Cam twitched back into consciousness with a pained moan, the damaged muscles in his back flexing with the aborted movement. He tried to peel his eyes open but all he could see was a world of deep red.

"Ah, you're awake! Good," the voice was pleased and Cam blinked gummy eyes open as the red receded (it was a wool coat) and he saw the man sitting in the chair next to his bed for the first time.

"Teeth and curls," Cam muttered as he stared at his visitor.

The man grumbled, frowned, and went back to looking at the papers. He found one and thrust it into Cam's face.

"There, do you see? It's absolutely impossible! How did you come by this?"

Squinting, Cam made out the shapes and specs of an F-302. "We made it," he mumbled.

"Made it?" The man demanded. "Made it! You stole it! The Military doesn't have the brains to come up with such a design!"

On a better day Cam would be insulted on his government's behalf, would most likely rally himself for a rousing argument on how the earth needed all the protection it could get and if they needed to borrow, well, it was in the name of necessity. At this time, however, he just didn't care.

"Sor'y", he mumbled. The man huffed again, made another mark on the papers, and secreted them away in one of his massive coat's pockets.

"Oh well, can't be helped. Won't be on earth all the time to save you apes." The man leaned back in the chair with a massive sigh, heavy brow furrowed, large eyes looking out at something that Cam was in no shape to fathom. Cam had no idea how long his visitor was going to stay, but could no longer hold in the loud groan as his pain meds faded. The visitor's eyes flashed back on him.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, very distressing. Rather careless of you, wasn't it? Brave, but careless. No worries though. You won't be down that long, and just think on everything you have to look forward to."

The man extended one hand so that it hovered above his face, a small brown bag in the palm.

"Jelly baby?"

I thought that I had lost this! Imagine my joy when I managed to find this buried in all my recovered files from the dead computer; nothing but love!

In Stargate Cam Mitchell is my absolute fav character of all (Lorne's a close second) and I have a love for the Doctor Who universe that just cannot be tamed, so to combine the two? Oh yeah!

Now I just hope that someone writes some Cam fic of their own...:)