Fic: Years (Stargate SG-1, S/C)
Title/Prompt: Years #050
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Cam
Words: 260
Author's Note: I guess this is more pre-Sam/Cam, with a mighty dose of Sam/Jack angst.
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She was sat in the far corner of the commissary, absent-mindedly attacking her poor blue jello with a plastic spoon.
“Y’know, if you didn’t want the blue one, all you had to do was give it to me instead.”
She didn’t even look up, “Hey Cam.”
With a sigh, he pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
He waited.
She didn’t speak.
Unsure of what he wanted to say, let alone how to say it, he found himself starting to speak regardless. Patience had never really been his forte.
“Sam,” he started on a sigh, “I know you don’t, can’t talk about it, but I just wanted you to know that it’s ok. We, I, understand.”
She didn’t say anything, and he hadn’t expected her to, so it came as a surprise when she started to speak just as he was about to give up and leave,
“Ten years I waited,” she said, “Ten years.”
He sat back down, “I know.”
“And he just . . .” she dropped the spoon, letting it clatter on to the table.
“I’m sorry Sam.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have, and I tried so hard. God, I tried so hard not to . . .”
“But it was inevitable,” he filled in, “Working together day in, day out, trusting each other with your lives every day, living, breathing through the same emotionally, physically stressful situations - I guess it’s inevitable.” He swallowed. Hard.
She looked up at him, then; her eyes holding his steady.
His words sinking in, “I guess it is.”
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Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Cam
Words: 260
Author's Note: I guess this is more pre-Sam/Cam, with a mighty dose of Sam/Jack angst.
-----
She was sat in the far corner of the commissary, absent-mindedly attacking her poor blue jello with a plastic spoon.
“Y’know, if you didn’t want the blue one, all you had to do was give it to me instead.”
She didn’t even look up, “Hey Cam.”
With a sigh, he pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
He waited.
She didn’t speak.
Unsure of what he wanted to say, let alone how to say it, he found himself starting to speak regardless. Patience had never really been his forte.
“Sam,” he started on a sigh, “I know you don’t, can’t talk about it, but I just wanted you to know that it’s ok. We, I, understand.”
She didn’t say anything, and he hadn’t expected her to, so it came as a surprise when she started to speak just as he was about to give up and leave,
“Ten years I waited,” she said, “Ten years.”
He sat back down, “I know.”
“And he just . . .” she dropped the spoon, letting it clatter on to the table.
“I’m sorry Sam.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have, and I tried so hard. God, I tried so hard not to . . .”
“But it was inevitable,” he filled in, “Working together day in, day out, trusting each other with your lives every day, living, breathing through the same emotionally, physically stressful situations - I guess it’s inevitable.” He swallowed. Hard.
She looked up at him, then; her eyes holding his steady.
His words sinking in, “I guess it is.”
-----