Bring it all Back
Chapter 14
Arrow
"Princess, you're going to have to learn how to trust me."
"I trust you—"
"To an extent."
"Right, to a very generous extent."
He doesn't say anything because it wasn't the answer he's looking for. Doesn't want her undying devotion or unquestioning loyalty, doesn't mind it when they butt heads, sometimes she gets all fired up and flushed in the face and when he smacks his lips against hers she still doesn't stop talking and then he laughs.
What he does want is for her to listen to him as her superior officer, which wasn't really happening before they started having sex and a relationship. Didn't want to lose her before, but now sometimes when his signing her out doesn't get approval, or if they leave on a sour note, he lays in bed watching the Late Show and feels completely empty.
He yanks his pants back up and sits on her bed, watching her watch him with a little bit of a nervous grin. Came to her room to talk to her about wearing the safety equipment when she leaves for off-world this afternoon with Teal'c because the planetary folk are not all around friendly, but they have a great location in the outer rings. Instead when he started to get upset with her she started kissing him and laughing, and then somehow his pants ended up around his ankles and she was blowing him.
And it is hard to argue with her when she's so good at what she does
"Do you think we use sex as a weapon?"
"No." Her immediate answer isn't exactly reassuring, and she barely looks away from the vanity where she touches up her lip gloss.
"You seem pretty confident in that answer."
"Darling, I've used sex as a weapon as Qetesh." Smacks her lips together with a pop and presses down on a tissue. "Diverting a potential argument with a quick slap and tickle isn't exactly weaponry."
Sidles up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, fingers tickling at the hem of her black undershirt. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I always get hurt," responds with a cackle and bunches the tissue aiming for the trash and missing. "Teal'c always gets hurt. You always get hurt. Daniel always—"
"Dies?"
"Pretty much spot on." Turns in his arms, hands on either side of his face, fingers cool and steady. She beams at him. "Hi."
"Hi." Can't help but grin back and crashes his lips to hers, undoing all her hard work for a perfect gloss. The bubble gum flavor mixes with his own flavor still lingering on her tongue and he wishes to hell and back she didn't have to go out on this mission. They can spare a Daniel, they can always spare a Daniel.
She doesn't complain about the second round of messed lips, instead in a very gentle tone while running her fingers through his hair she asks, "would it make you feel better if I agreed right now to wear that big clunky, heavy vest."
"I still won't be able to sleep tonight, but it'll be a start."
She leans up on her tiptoes and whispers into his ear, "What if I promised to make our reunion tomorrow night pop as much as our little excursion just now."
Well that, that does the opposite of make him want to sleep. He half spins her, so he can grab a shining clip on her vanity and hands it to her. "You are in a very generous mood."
"I can't help it." She slides the sliver barrette into the side of her hair, smoothing it over so the bar is hidden and only the diamonds remain, seemingly hidden in her hair. "You're absolutely adorable when you worry."
She pinches his cheek and he snatches her hand away, but when she tries to walk away again, he twirls her back in towards him, landing one final kiss completely demolishing the newest layer of gloss. He lets go of her hand and whacks her on the ass for good measure. "Go."
"You're still adorable."
"Do not say that in front of anyone else. Ever."
He goes home and puts on the Late Show and sits with a beer in his hand watching celebrities he doesn't even know who are young enough to be his kids act badly. If she was here they'd be watching America's Funniest Home Videos or funny animal compilations online. She loves animals in human clothing and will laugh until she cries. It makes him smile now, but the bed is cold and empty, and he's depressed enough to drink beer while fully clothed and on top of the covers.
There's a weak ache in his thigh and over the phantom pains still running through the scar and sliced into the muscle he senses her hand clamping earlier, fingernails digging in and silky hair against his skin.
Sometimes he wonders what the hell they're even doing and then sometimes he wonders how it's been two years, they've had a workplace romance for over two years. He's been fucking an alien for two years and no one has said a single thing. Then he feels bad about calling it 'fucking' because it sounds dirty and although she's very dirty, she isn't like that.
He drains his beer, turning out the light and goes to sleep on top of the covers with his clothes on.
Her and Teal'c return at 2200 the next night. She's tired and dirty but bouncing around Teal'c who wears an amused smirk. She's still wearing the bulky vest, Teal'c too, and it takes until they approach him for him to fully see the damage. Maybe Lam is right, about the glasses.
"I take it that it didn't go to great."
"The citizens were not pleased to see not one, but two representatives from Stargate Command." His vest is full of rips and tears, exposing whatever impenetrable material Dr. Lee used to construct them.
They don't say much, they never really do, and it must be how their relationship remains under the IOA's radar after two years. She skips off in the direction of the women's locker room, and Teal'c marches in the opposite direction towards the men's.
He waits until Walter gives up his seat in the control room for his bed, and then drifts towards the women's locker room. It's between shifts and it's very likely that she's the only one in there. All he has to do is knock and if there's another officer present, he'll apologize and say he needs to talk to Vala in his office when she's done.
But the all the planning is for nothing because when he knocks, she immediately calls him in.
"Cameron, unzip me please?" She's sort of spinning in her own orbit trying to reach the hidden zipper that's blocked by—
"Holy shit." He holds her still and examines the wooden arrow hanging out of her side. "What the hell happened."
"Citizens ambushed the campsite this morning, lucky they didn't have arrows made out of a stronger material."
"Remind me." He wiggles the arrow trying to slide it backwards, then forwards out of the tear it's made in the vest. "Why did I send you to that planet again?"
"For diplomacy, darling."
"Definitely. Not. Worth it." Finally, he loses patience and snaps the arrow in half allowing the outer portion to clatter to the ground. He tugs on the zipper and she lifts her arms while he slides the vest over her head.
"Who was on the Late Show last night." She almost topples over, the vests only about ten extra pounds, he's worn one before and taking it off was like losing a quarter of his weight.
His hands shoot out to steady her, holding her by the hips while she regains her balance. Her frame is a lot smaller than his, or Teal'c's and she must feel like a feather now. "Some snotty kid."
"That's what you always say."
"That's who it always is."
"Did you at least change out of your day clothes?"
They know each other so well. That is why they do this, that is why this relationship works because she knows his routines, patterns, and he knows her crazy obsessions and quirks. "Of course not."
"Oh Cameron." Her smile is made of mock pity and she pecks a kiss to his chin. "You're still adorable."
They're at the house, sitting next to each other on the couch, her legs curled and on his lap while he massages the bottom of her feet from the extra weight of the lifesaving vest. Some guy on the tv just got hit in the junk with a baseball bat by his toddler, and she's laughing so hard she's honking.
"Vala, honey—" and he's laughing too because she has the worse taste in media he's ever goddamn seen, but she's so beautiful when she laughs, and her eyes are wet with tears. "We need to take you to an opera or something."
"Is—Is there a lot of—" She swings her arms with a mock bat "—at the opera."
"None, but it's a theater with classy—"
"Pass."
The show ends, and they begin clearing away the two dishes they used for pizza, taking a short walk to the kitchen. His arm slings around her waist as she pads barefoot across the laminate floors leaving little ghost footprints as she goes. "Promise me, if we ever have a child, you will teach them baseball."
"I'm not teaching them baseball, so they can hit me in the crotch." Just ignores the implication of them having kids in the future. They haven't talked about it at all in two years, mostly just because they've been enjoying each other enough and practicing safe sex like it's a religion.
Just going to ignore it.
"Oh, it would be so adorable, you and little you, just—whap" She slaps her hands together in glee, in a scary notion of glee, and then drops their plates into the sink.
His mind is still stuck on the speedbump of having a kid, because to be honest he never thought about it, and really didn't want them, didn't until a stupid video of parental abuse sparked her funny bone.
She's still giggling, and moves to plug up the sink to do the dishes, her hand in the basin and her other hand on the switch on the wall because she thinks it's the above sink light but it's actually—
"Garburator," shouts while dropping the empties against the kitchen floor sprinting towards her while they break into bits of glass. She's not stopping. "Garburator. Garburator."
Yanks her away from the sink just as she flips the switch and the angry metal whirring from where her hand just sat screams. He flips the switch off as she stares, then shrugs her shoulders. "I always forget, don't I?"
"I'll label it." He holds her hips again and boosts her onto the counter. When she gives him furrowed brows, he clomps across the kitchen floor, retrieving the broom from where it's hidden behind the fridge. "Glass on the ground."
And it's their routines and quirks. Her head so preoccupied with giggles and humor, so happy to be off base and with him, that nine times out of ten she flips on the switch and almost loses a finger in the process. His instant drop of anything to ensure her hands keep all five fingers intact, and while she's still giggly with a fraction of attention, that she doesn't step barefoot through all the glass he made in the earlier panic.
Her kissing him in appreciation, lovingly pressing her lips along his neck, chin, cheek and ear while nuzzling her floral smelling hair and soft skin against him. Bumping forward until he catches her off the counter and whisks her away to the bedroom, her legs hooking around his hips.
And his thought still on teaching a little version of them, a tough, smart little guy, one who breaks glass but sweeps it up, how to play t-ball and her watching eagerly from the kitchen window, her hand dangerously close to the worn label on the switch.