Chapter Eight - Trevor

Ten Years Ago

The moment he saw her across the cafeteria, her long brown hair draped over one shoulder, he turned to his friends. "Hey, guys, I gotta bounce."

Lane looked over his shoulder, apparently guessing why Trevor had to leave. "Seriously, man? You can't have lunch with us one day a week?"

Trevor stopped, his tray already in his hands. "It's not about can or can't, guys. Seriously."

"Oh, so you're, like, choosing her over us then."

"Of course not." Trevor glanced up, trying to catch Grace's eye, to tell her nonverbally that he'd be a few minutes later than he'd promised. Then, he looked back down at the guys. "I have a girlfriend. You guys act like that's a new thing."

"Yeah, but you've been together so long, it's like you're married." DeShaun rolled his eyes and used his fingers to mimic kissing between two people, complete with juvenile kissing sounds.

"Yeah, Trev. You're too young to be tied down like that. I mean, look at me. Ginny was getting all up in my grill, and I put a stop to that real fast. I was all like, I need my time with my boys, you know. And she was like, But I thought you loved me. And I'm like, I do, baby, I just need my space."

Unsuccessful in connecting with Grace, Trevor looked at the guys. "You didn't break up with Ginny. She caught you making out with Piper, and she broke up with you."

DeShaun practically fell on the floor laughing. "Yeah, man. You needed your space, all right, but it wasn't so you could hang with us."

Lane slammed his fist on the table to silence the mockery. "Well, at least I had a girl."

DeShaun immediately grew serious again. "Hey, man, that was hurtful."

Trevor ignored the guys as they bickered with each other. Instead, he scanned the crowd for Grace again, hoping she hadn't slipped out of the cafeteria thinking he was busy. She stood by the vending machines, checking her watch, except this time she caught his eye and threw a bright smile in his direction. "Look, guys, I'll catch up with you later."

He pressed her gently against the vending machine and kissed her, hungry for the taste of cherry chapstick on her lips. Greedily, she tugged against his lips, and he grinned at the game they'd perfected since their first kiss in the school hallway in eighth grade.

She breathed a contented sigh as he pulled away. "Hey there, stranger. I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

Despite the lunch tray between them, Trevor grabbed her around the waist and tugged her closer for another kiss. "I'll always find time for you, beautiful."

She melted into his kiss again, but she managed to create a little distance between them and forced him to give up the suction against her lips prematurely. "Come on, Trevor, I've gotta study. You know that."

He turned his attention to her earlobe. "I'll help you study. It's a biology test, right?"

She shivered in delight. "Yeah, a real test. Not an excuse to make out in the library."

Though he didn't stop kissing her, Trevor's lips raised into an involuntary smile. "That was a good day."

She snickered. "You failed your test."

"Only a problem if that was my primary objective."

She captured his lips with hers again. "It wasn't?"

"Not even close. Now, about this biology test, I had an idea."

Grace laughed against his lips. "I know what you have in mind, Trevor. Trust me, it's not gonna happen."

He pulled away to get a better look at her face. They'd always joked like this, but that had sounded a little different than normal. "Not gonna happen as in never? Or as in maybe prom night? Or as in not until we get married?"

Grace dropped her head to his shoulder. "We've talked about this. I don't think—"

He took a deep breath to try to clear his mind, the mood successful averted. "You don't think your parents would be cool. I get it."

Grace's head snapped up, her eyes flashing. "That's not it at all."

He raised an eyebrow. Her parents were pretty cool about a lot of things, like the classic sixty-eight Corvette he'd restored with his uncle last summer.

This just didn't seem to be the kind of thing any parent would be cool about. Especially not her dad, who'd just sat there with Trevor one night before they went to a dance, not saying a word. Just staring at him. For a guy who had been a pretty easygoing, talkative, even joking personality before Trevor had officially become Grace's boyfriend, it had been a little unsettling.

Grace gave him a sheepish smile as if to admit she'd reacted a little too vehemently. "Well, maybe a little that, but it's more than that."

Trevor ran his hands over her arms and leaned his forehead against hers. "We've been dating for almost five years. Ever since you—you know—"

Grace shoved him away with her tray. The force wasn't enough to make him lose his balance, but it was enough to attract the attention of the lunchroom monitors. "Ever since I got kidnapped? You really think bringing that up right now is sexy?"

Trevor's brow crinkled. "Grace..."

Tears shined in her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled. "What if I got pregnant, Trevor? We'd have to think about that if we even considered doing what you're suggesting."

He took her hands in his. "We'd get married. Just like I always thought we would."

Grace's fingers gripped his like they were her lifeline. "What if you found out something about me—something that made me seem weird or something that changed the way you saw me? I know you think we should get married, but maybe—"

"Is there a problem here?" A stern-faced woman walked up to them.

Trevor didn't even look at the woman, just raised his hand. "It's fine. We're in the middle of something."

Grace started to cry, her tears dripping into the chef's salad on her tray. "Trevor, I need to study. You should go."

"No, Grace—"

Stern-faced Woman stood between them like a security guard or a bouncer. "I'd leave her alone if I were you."

He felt helpless as he watched Grace hurry down the hall, each sob etching a new wound into his tender heart. Something had changed between them, but damn if he knew what it was. Maybe she'd explain when he drove her home after school.

Present Day

"Whatever you're going to say, I don't want to talk about it."

Trevor looked at Grace, weighing the pros and cons of staying silent. On the one hand, she might count him as an ally if she thought he was respecting her space. On the other, he'd never really figure out what he did to piss her off ten years ago.

He couldn't fix something he didn't know he'd done.

"You look—"

Grace threw an unamused look his direction. "If you're even going to pretend to say I look good, you're an idiot."

Though her words were sharp, biting, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Okay, you've looked better, but in the lobby of the hotel?"

He whistled. "Everyone was turning heads to find out where the paparazzi was."

Grace rolled her eyes, though the way her lip curled toward in the setting sun seemed to say she was pleased by his compliment. "Hardly. I'd say they were more wondering why there was a near Officer and a Gentleman remake in the lobby."

"Was that your way of saying I look good in my uniform?"

Grace let her gaze fall to the sand as she grew unexpectedly sad. "You always looked good, Trevor. You never needed me to tell you that."

He wanted to reach out, to pull her close the way he had when they were kids. Unfortunately, those days were long gone. Long enough ago that he wasn't sure they'd ever come back.

"I never figured out why we broke up. One minute, we're kissing in the cafeteria. The next minute, I heard from one of your friends that you'd called your dad for a ride home."

Grace turned away from him. "You wouldn't understand."

He stiffened, his pride injured by how quickly she batted his attempts to connect away. "Honey, I work at the SGC. I think you underestimate how okay I am with stuff I don't understand."

Grace was instantly skeptical. "You've been at the SGC for two months, Trevor. Don't act like you're some old-guard veteran. And don't call me honey."

"You're changing the subject."

She clammed up again, peeking up over the ridge. Probably trying to see if she could find her brother.

Trevor groaned. "Is this because you felt pressured to have sex in high school? Because trust me, while I wasn't a choir boy, I was trying to be respectful. I honestly thought you wanted me as much as I wanted you."

Grace didn't speak, just let her eyes scan the horizon.

"Come on, Grace, give me something to work with here. I mean, you broke up with me in a text message. Didn't even give me a reason. If we're gonna trust each other out here, we've got to clear the air on this."

Grace was silent several moments longer, and Trevor was about to throw up his hands and stop trying. Not forever, but for now at least. They had more pressing matters than ten year old relationship drama.

Like the fact that Grace was shivering now as the heat evaporated from the sand with each foot the sun descended below the horizon.

Trevor got into the car and pulled out her woolen cloak. "You're gonna want this soon."

Grace hardly looked at it. "You didn't have to get that. I could have."

Trevor dropped the cloak at her feet and sat beside her. "You've been tripping over your dress all day. I figured you might want to sit a while."

Grace's silence didn't ebb, and Trevor's laugh was brittle. "Trust me, I didn't do it to be a gentleman. I would have done it for anyone on my team. Hell, maybe I should get Nicole's sari for when she gets back. And Jacob's suit coat, too."

"It wasn't you."

The words were quiet, but they packed such a punch that Trevor had to stop to process them. "What do you mean it wasn't me?"

"The reason we broke up. It wasn't you."

Trevor rubbed at his face, shaking off granules of sand which lodged themselves in his eyebrows and pores. "Okay, so it wasn't me. Then, what was it?"

Grace bit her lip. "Do you remember when I was fifteen? We were supposed to go white water rafting with your sister's family?"

He nodded. "You had meningitis or something. Your parents wouldn't let me come. Told me it was too dangerous for me to come over."

Grace picked grains of sand out of the space between her fingers. "I didn't have meningitis."

Trevor stared at her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was sick, but not with meningitis. That was just a cover story. An illness serious enough that you wouldn't fight my parents when they said you couldn't see me."

Blinding anger grew in his chest. "We planned that trip for a year, Grace. I worked for two summers to pay for that ticket, and you just what—flaked on me?"

Grace blinked away a tear. "You have every right to hate me, Trevor. I didn't realize you'd carry around ten years of guilt about us. I always thought you'd hate me instead, but here we are. I'm telling you everything I can manage, okay?"

He almost made a quip about how she might be right if she kept talking, but he stopped himself. He'd just prove her right ten years ago if he wasn't careful.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

Grace's long hair slipped out of the makeshift ponytail, and it shielded her eyes from him.

He took a chance and brushed it behind her ear, a gesture he wouldn't have considered if they weren't being so open with each other.

There was something about the way the moonlight reflected in her eye, something that pulled him closer.

Their lips met for the first time since that day at the vending machines. Her lips didn't taste like cherry chapstick anymore, especially not after a grueling day in the desert. Her lips were chapped and dehydrated, and as Trevor's lips brushed against them, he felt the gritty presence of sand.

Still, Trevor pulled her closer.

For the first time in ten years, he felt like he could breathe again.

"I should have guessed you sent Nicole with me so you could reconnect with Grace."

Trevor and Grace almost jumped apart as Jacob threw linen fabric at their feet.

Grace wiped at her mouth like she'd just done something wrong. In her defense, the only people who could have made Trevor more self-conscious about that kiss would have been her parents. Although just a minute earlier, he would have sworn that the younger man was on his side.

Trevor stood. "That wasn't what it looked like."

Jacob scoffed. "Oh, I'm pretty sure it was. You forget. I had a front row seat for the first dozen times the two of you played tonsil hockey."

"Guys, you don't need to—" Grace cried out in pain, and Trevor's protective instincts flared up.

"Grace?"

She rubbed the palm of her hand with her fingers. "Something bit me."

Trevor's heart fell to his stomach as he looked in the sand. Before he could identify what kind of scorpion was slinking away, it zoomed out of sight, hitting the side of the car with impossible force.

Grace turned a frown to her brother, now dressed in a linen suit and light brown shoes. "Jacob..."

"What? It was a scorpion, and it stung you."

Trevor knelt beside Grace and examined the wound. "How are you feeling?"

For all the ground they'd won with that kiss, Grace's irritation rolled off her in waves. "You must really think I'm a child if you think a little sting can stop me."

Trevor was about to protest that they should keep an eye on it because scorpions could be venomous, but Grace didn't appear to be interested.

"Help me up."

The spell broken from earlier, Trevor helped Grace to her feet, careful when she wobbled not to put his hands on her exposed back. She reached down to the ground for the clothes Nicole and Jacob had brought back.

Grace sighed in relief as she found the white linen dress and Mary Poppins style shoes that looked like they might just fit her. Grace brought each item up to see if they would fit, then she turned to her three companions as Nicole joined them in the sand by the car, now dressed in a collection of linen robes herself. "I'm gonna change in the backseat. You three stand watch."

Jacob grabbed Trevor around the collar and forced him to look toward the camp. "That means eyes forward, buddy."

Trevor bit back the urge to punch the younger man. "I know what stand watch means, thank you."

Jacob splayed his arms in apology. "If you say so. Just remember, my dad's ex-Special Forces, and Teal'c was my personal trainer growing up. I can take you down if I have to."

Nicole snickered. "Yeah, well, my mom's a thief and my dad's an archaeologist, and I've been known to knock you back on your keister, buddy."

Jacob scowled at his friend. "Stop helping, Nic."

Nicole feigned innocence. "Oh. Was I supposed to be helping?"

Trevor let the two bicker between themselves, like an old married couple. Instead, he looked over the horizon at the camp. A sense of dread closed in on him. Maybe it was just his hobby of reading science fiction stories or maybe he was just realizing how ill-equipped he was to handle whatever was happening right now.

Maybe it would be that scorpion sting. Maybe they would change history without intending to. Maybe something he couldn't foresee.

If he had backup, a real SG team, maybe things would be different. Instead, he had his high school girlfriend, her telekinetic brother, and Dr. Jackson's snarky daughter. It didn't seem like whatever had made the first SG-1 team so great had been passed down to their kids.

Knock it off, Knight. This isn't about how ill-prepared you are or anything like that. It's about Grace. It's always been about Grace.

He glanced over his shoulder. Was he naïve to think that there'd been a moment when Grace had almost forgiven him? Almost told him why she'd been so secretive when they were kids?

Was that enough to temper this growing surety that something was going to go cataclysmically wrong?

Not likely.