Bring it all Back
Chapter 21
Molar
They're on good old P3X-505 for an extended mission, one he had to come along for because after the whole unexplored catacombs thing on Atlantis, the Jacksons effectively defected to join Sam and McKay in rooting through supposedly endless rooms for more artifacts pointing towards a solution to finding the Clava Thessara Infinitus.
That excuse has been run into the ground harder than his plane over Antarctica.
SG-7 isn't so much a team as a bunch of people who met in a room and now have to find a way to escape while still addressing each other with army civilities. There's a riff in the team, Major Dumas has been working with Morton and Reyes for almost as long as he's been working with Vala. She's been on the team on and off for the last year, and while the guys of SG-7 are anything but calm and debonair, she must have proven herself to them because they address her with more respect than most of the other people at the SGC do.
They're staying at a sort of hole-in-the-wall inn with a pub in the basement. The room is far too small. There's only four tables but a bar takes up over half the room with more stools then space. She's upstairs in her room 'freshening up' which means she's either reading the next chapter to Harry Potter, or she wants a quick nap.
He has a stool saved for her beside him, but they're not going to get very far if Dumas and his boys don't duck out to do some city exploring. Rumors about the major are well known and widespread, he likes his booze and he likes his women. He doesn't give a crap what the good major does as long as it's not on government time and doesn't compromise the mission again. He's sure O'Neill must have uttered the same phrase to him about his relationship with Vala, and he just denied it, slipping from the room.
"Hey Mitchell." Dumas flops onto the stool beside him, spinning around once. Somehow the good major is already a bit buzzed despite spending no time in the pub. "Why don't you come out with me, Reyes, and Morton?"
Follows the major's gesture to the door where the two privates stand waiting, a little impatient. Morton checks his watch and Reyes punches his arm, saying something harshly. "As much as I'd love to see what you guys actually get up to, I can't. I promised Vala I'd wait for her here."
"So? Ditch the skirt." Dumas shrugs, his words bumbling from underneath a thick moustache. "Look I know you two are old friends or some shit, but doesn't it piss you off to know you're never going to get anywhere with her?"
"The only place I want to go with her is back to the SGC." To his bedroom, where she can watch old reruns of Night Court while stretching her hand back to hold his while he puts on his fucking old man glasses and reads through three trees worth of the Jacksons' mission reports. Dumas raises a bushy eyebrow, too dense or too drunk to understand his meaning. "She's one of my oldest friends."
Dumas slams his hand down on the counter and the weary bartender reluctantly pours the major what might be the equivalent of a tumbler of whiskey. "So, you don't want to fuck her?"
"I'm sorry—what?"
"She's a female, one of the only ones we've got. I'll admit there are times when she does that thing with her legs that I think about it."
Don't ask, don't do it, Dumas is baiting and it's only going to get worse—"what thing?" The reluctance in his voice is almost embarrassing.
"Walking." Dumas grins, thick moustache fluffing and glistening with 'whiskey'.
"I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened." He leans in close and can definitely smell more alcohol on Dumas's breath then a single glass of whiskey. "You should leave now."
The major gets a sort of smirk wrinkled up the side of his face, and probably dimmed by the alcohol, decides to lean closer, matching his threat. "Hit a soft spot, did I?"
"No, but I might." Copies the same smirk and pulls back just in time as she enters the pub, black t-shirt and rocking her BDU pants. Dumas is right about one thing, her walk is sexy as hell.
"Cameron." Her bright smile hits him, making him grin. "Major Dumbass"
"How many times I gotta tell you, you dumb alien bitch, that the name is Dumas."
He sort of stares in shock, half-numb in surprised at the disrespect, and half-infuriated that the words are directed at her.
"Oh, but your Tau'ri words are so big and hard to pronounce." Her hand drifts over his shoulders, the plain black t-shirt he can wear in peace while not worrying about being confused for one of the Jacksons.
"I'll give up something big and hard—"
"Leave now, Dumas."
"It's okay, darling." She piles both her hands against his shoulder and pulls a huge shit-eating grin. "I doubt whatever he has is neither big nor hard."
Dumas mumbles some more choice phrases under her breath and she says something in a dialect of Goa'uld. When the major turns back she waggles her fingers at him.
"Well, so much for a common ground of respect."
"Oh, he just gets a bit insolent when he's been drinking." She spins in her chair just for fun and taps him on the shoulder. "Tomorrow he'll have forgotten all about this and be delightfully without a personality again."
"What did you say to him."
"That's not important."
"Vala, what did you say?"
"Well, it's impolite for me to repeat it in the presence of a woman, and since I'll always be here, I doubt you'll ever know." She stops spinning grabbing hold of the counter and smiling softer at him. "Now then, are you going to buy me a drink or will I be forced to die of dehydration."
He sighs and raises two fingers at the bartender who nods and readies two glasses. From what he understands there's only one type of alcohol on this side of the planet, and it's not the greatest. "How was the next chapter of Harry Potter?"
She grabs the glass as soon as it's set before her and takes a decent sip. "Mmm, I've no idea, darling, I had a nap."
Usually that admission would make him chuckle, because he knows her so well, knows what her napping pose looks like and as much as he'd like to picture her tucked delicately under the covers like the princess he calls her, he knows she was spread-eagle over the comforter, boots still on, probably drooling a bit. He doesn't laugh, doesn't say anything, just tosses back the liquor that has a distinctly bitter, rough taste while watching a few other people, all men, sit at the counter next to them.
"Something the matter?"
"It's nothing—" Raises his hand for a refill, and there's something very depressing about binge drinking on a planet beside his girlfriend.
"It's something because you've ordered another drink." Forgets how well she knows him too. The gray area of addiction in his family. His brother on and off the wagon since high school and he never talks about it with her because he partly thinks she won't understand. Can't accept the things he doesn't want to say to her, so she prods and prods until he ends up shouting them. "Usually after one we're good to go to bed. I want to go to bed. So, tell me what's wrong."
"Why do you have to egg Dumas on?"
"I do not egg him on."
"You literally called him Major Dumbass when you saw him."
"Yes, and I'm sure he was saying absolutely delightful things about me." He ignores the next drink set in front of him and narrows his eyes at her. "I wasn't snooping, I could tell by your face, it was starting to go red."
Swigs back the drink and watches the somewhat playful expression wipe from her face, smile disappears, and she borrows his glare. "Just because he—"
"Why is he allowed a free pass, but in knowing what he's implicit in, I'm not?" She drops down from the stool and steadies the swinging seat with her hand.
"It's just how the army is—"
"Yes, well." She's flustered, her eyes not meeting him which means he fucked up. There's an almost invisible pink creeping into her cheeks and she rifles through her pocket until she produces enough money to cover her drink. He fucked up bad. "The army's 'boys will be boys' attitude may be perfectly acceptable to you, but I expect to be treated with a modicum of respect."
"Honey—"
Tries to apologize but he's interrupted by one of the guys who sat beside her at the bar. He's a big guy, like Teal'c big, with more muscles and hair then he will ever have. The guy says something, he doesn't remember the exact words because he's more focused on untangling the mess he made with Vala, but her face falls, eyes darting to the ground and it pisses him off. She doesn't say anything, just tries to duck away from him, from the guy, from both of them because she's obviously done for the night, but when she shimmies from between the stools the guy slaps her on the ass.
Hard.
Sees him wind up like he's going to chuck a baseball and instead the palm of his hand ends up on her ass. She lets out a small squeak, and before he can even register her expression, he's tackling the guy.
Ends up with some bruised up ribs, one hell of a shiner, and a missing tooth—not one of the front ones so it's not that much of a loss—they can easily replace it back at the SGC, but he hasn't been in that type of fight since he was in middle school, leaving the cafeteria and getting jumped by three eighth graders.
Three against one is never a fair fight.
That is until his space pirate of a girlfriend gets the upper hand by smashing a stool against one of their heads and whipping her sidearm out so fast they don't have time to blink.
"Boys will be boys and you boys are idiots." Shakes her head with a tsk. "You pay the poor barman for the stool I've just had to destroy."
They slap cash down on the counter with a grumble, their friend still unconscious on the floor. "Now you apologize to me for touching me when I did not ask for it."
They both mumble the same half-hearted apology, their eyes not meeting hers, shifting to the floor with the full course of shame she had only moments before. His head still reeling, and it takes him a moment before he actually understands what's happening.
"You apologize to Cameron as well for beating him so badly."
"Thanks, Honey." A little drool drips from his mouth through his new tooth hole and onto the floor as he climbs his way up a stool to stand.
They never apologize to him, instead she directs them out and they leave their friend knocked out on the floor. "I'm terribly sorry about disturbing your establishment." When she addresses the bartender he only watches her with big eyes because her gun is still cocked and loaded. "Oh, sorry."
Somehow, they manage to hobble up to his room, his room because if Dumas or the guys search for him tonight and can't find him until they check her room, it'll be worse than a scandal. She sits him on the side of the bed and readies the first aid kit before him, dabbing at the cut on his cheek and the one on his lip with a bit of antiseptic and he hisses.
"Oh, I'm sorry darling, did that sting?" the words are soothing, but her tone is indifferent
She drops the gauze before cracking an icepack for his eye and pops up on the bed beside him. "I should have known you could take care of yourself, okay?" Hopes it counts as an apology, really doesn't know what went wrong, but when he thinks about the expression she had, where her eyes wouldn't lift from the floor, it gets him angry every time.
"Well I egg men on enough to know."
"Vala—"
She pinches his lips between her fingers. "Hush. Just tell me you're sorry."
When the pressure releases he takes the icepack from her. "I'm sorry."
"Now tell me that I had nothing to do with it."
"You didn't egg anyone on."
"Good." She nudges his knee with hers and leans her cheek in against his shoulder. "Now tell me I'm pretty."
Knows that signal and drops the icepack, his chilly hands grabbing her cheeks and she shouts out in surprise, a better squeak than from an unwanted slap on the ass. "You're gorgeous."
She kisses him first, tasting the blood and alcohol in his mouth and poking her tongue into the space where his first molar used to be.
They arrive back at the SGC the next morning, Dumas and his boys staying until the evening to tie up the loose ends they left. She doesn't say much to him as they walk through the gate, but when he glances over to her, she's beaming at him.
"What?"
Shakes her head, their conversation cut off by the approaching Jacksons who meet them at the bottom of the ramp.
"How did meeting the archduke go?"
Drops his bag on the floor and stretches his back out. His ribs ache a bit from the fight, but more so from the sex. She definitely did not go easy on him. "Didn't go at all Sunshines."
"You're kidding me?!"
"How could you miss the luncheon with the archduke!?"
Before he answers, Vala sticks herself to his side and he's mildly aware it's inappropriate, but it's not their type of intimacy, more so the action for show. Her arms hug tightly around his one and she holds him in place when he tries to wiggle free. "Cameron defended my honor in a pub last night."
"Is that so?"
"How noble of him."
"No it's true," she nuzzles his arm, but her grip on him fades enough, on purpose, to let him draw away. "This big brisling bear of a man decided, unprovoked, to slap my very defined posterior."
Doesn't understand why she's doing this until the Jacksons answer, "Sure Vala."
Daniel Two crosses his arms. "Unprovoked, right."
"I swear, I did nothing to—"
"Enough Vala."
"What happened with—"
Watches as they blame her and she sends him a look through side eyes, the look telling him about boys being boys and this is what she gets from it. "She's telling the truth. That guy hit her hard."
"Oh, well then."
"Good job, Mitchell."
The Jacksons grow bored with a subject that's not about the political standards of the planet or relating to the same Clava shit they've been working on for the last three years. He stands, a little dumbfounded, watching them go, just how they glossed over it entirely.
"I'm sorry." Doesn't look at her, can't because it might give them away, his face a little close to breaking because he was beaten, then had wild, amazing sex and no sleep and is now learning how awful their situation is for her, a woman in a boys world. An alien on a planet of Tau'ri men where she's not even allowed the freedom to leave the mountain on her own.
She doesn't say anything back, just snakes her hand into his jacket pocket quickly. Her pickpocketing skills are unmatched, and she does it within the blink of an eye, he knows it because he knows her. Knows her well and sometimes wishes he didn't know as much.
When she leaves the gate room, he shoves his hand into his pocket and his fingers roll over the ridges of his molar.