On the way back to the base, Vala decided she was hungry so he took her to the drive-thru at Burger King. They got Whoppers and fries, Cokes, a chocolate milkshake and Oreo pies. He had discovered that when it came to food, she would try anything once, a lot like Daniel Jackson.
Cam winced and forced his thoughts away from 'Vala and Daniel' in way, shape or form. He didn't want them to have anything in common, even though he knew it was ridiculous. He shouldn't be jealous of something that had no chance of ever happening. He shouldn't be jealous because Vala was exactly what he did not need anyway.
Well, maybe he needed her in some ways. After what he had just been through, everything since Vala had walked through the Stargate had confirmed that he was still living. Right now he was knee-deep in his dream job, caught in the web of a mysterious alien he wasn't sure he trusted and unable to walk away from either. He was still an outsider in so many ways at the SGC, still trying to find the place where he fit and it hit him as he took the freeway exit for the base that so was Vala. It hit him hard. For all her forced vibrancy, flippant sexuality and pain-in-the-ass troublemaking, she was alone too.
Was that all they were, then? Two lonely people who had bumped into each other and had nothing better to do? Who was she really with when it seemed like she was with him?
Her hair had fallen forward while she sampled her milkshake and he had to clench his hands around the wheel of the Mustang, fighting the urge to reach over and brush it back over her shoulder. He fixed his eyes on the road until they got to the parking lot. There was a single shuttle waiting to take them to the Main Gate. It would be busy all night, when the rest of the SGC came staggering home from First Thursday. He was glad suddenly that they had left early. He parked the Mustang under a misty cone of light and shut off the engine.
Vala started gathering trash and the bags full of food they hadn't eaten. Cam reached over and grabbed her wrist. Her skin was silky, clean and smooth. Her pulse was strong and steady.
"Vala." His voice was whispery soft. His next words were as risky as a strafing run through enemy airspace. "Don't close your eyes tonight. Look me in the eye. Let it just be me."
Vala froze but her mouth curved slightly.
"Who do you think it's been, Mitchell? Daniel? Did I accidently yell his name or something?"
Cam slammed up hard against the denial – ironically an anagram of Jackson's first name.
"You don't yell," he managed to drawl. "You just make helpless little fucked-out-of-your-mind noises."
Vala snorted and tried to go back to sorting the food from the trash. But Cam didn't let her go.
"Daniel can't fit me into any of his neat little boxes," she said. "He wants to find out I had a tortured childhood or something."
"Did you have a tortured childhood?" he tried to ask casually.
Raven-winged brows drew closer together. "My childhood is my own business and none of yours, or Daniel's for that matter."
"Fair enough," Cam said, carefully. He had no wish to drive her away.
She resumed the blithe tone of voice he thought she must have spent years perfecting. "Maybe I do what I do because I was the host of a Goa'uld. I'd think that would make Daniel happy, but it's too easy an answer for him to accept."
"He forgives what you do because of that," Cameron observed.
Vala lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"
"What did you think? You push him, you torment him. You get his dander up in ways I don't think anyone else would dare, and you're still walking around in one piece. But Jackson can be laser-focused when he wants something. If he wants to save you from yourself, you might want to reconsider how hard you go at him."
Vala leaned forward, her hair a dark curtain around her face, obscuring her features and adding to the intimacy of the dimly-lit front seat.
"Daniel doesn't understand how easy it is to make him crazy, or how much fun."
"Like I said, Jackson can be relentless in his pursuit of something. If you're his latest project, I'd be a little more wary."
"Sometimes a girl wants to be saved," she said, and then her voice dropped to something husky, sexy, "and sometimes a girl wants something else entirely."
Cameron felt a shiver of relief. At least he wasn't playing this game alone.
"What is it you want?" he asked, leaning forward until his mouth was barely inches from hers.
"Independence, security."
"Aren't they mutually exclusive?"
She shrugged, smiled. Her breath grazed his face and tasted of chocolate.
"Not always," she said, "I manage."
"Takes a lot, I bet." He let go of her wrist but she didn't move away. His hand touched her face, her neck, slipped over her shoulders and down until it hovered beside the swell of her breast beneath the turtleneck. "Brains, talent, courage…"
"Flattery will get you everything," Vala answered.
Cam's breath hitched as the two of them hovered in that moment that always felt to him like the seconds just before the push to break the pull of gravity. She cut off his thoughts abruptly.
"Are we going to do this in the Mustang? Backseat is a little cramped."
"No," he answered.
"Why not? Don't all fighter pilots live to break the rules? Live fast and die young?"
"Live fast, maybe. I sure don't want to die young."
To shut her up Cameron kissed her. She tasted of ice cream and he was reminded of hot, humid Kansas summer nights in spite of the Colorado autumn on the other side of the glass.
They parted and stayed still for another moment. Vala kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck and it was so vibrant he began to shake in response. Then she curled her fingers into his shirt and tugged him forward.
"What do you want tonight?" Her voice was husky, filled with promise.
"I told you," his was barely audible, softer than a breeze. "I want to know that it's me, not just some fantasy."
Vala pulled him closer and just before she kissed him she said, "I can do that. It's never been anyone else. Now take me to bed."
Or lose me forever, Cameron thought bitterly. Then she sealed her lips over his and he gave up the ability to think.
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