Title: Realising
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Pairing: Sam/Cam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 220
Notes: Sam and Cam’s first kiss.
Sam is sitting alone at the edge of a lake, watching as the setting sun makes the water shimmer a rainbow. A breeze – cool enough to be pleasant without being cold – makes the rainbow ripple, and her eyes follow the patterns of light, for once not thinking of the physics behind it. She is alone, on a world that’s not her own, the latest in a long line of worlds she has visited, and in spite of every safety precaution that’s ever been drummed into her head, her weapon is lying on the grass beside her. Her knees are drawn up so that her chin rests on them, her arms wrapped around them, hugging them tightly, and she remembers that when she was a little girl, she thought it entirely possible that if she did this for long enough, she could fold up into herself, like a little ball.
She’s not that little girl any more, hasn’t been anybody’s little girl for a long time. Well, that’s what she thought. But she knows that up until two years ago, she had still been her daddy’s little girl, that no matter how old she got, or how smart or how decorated, he would always see her that way.
Up until two years ago, she hadn’t realised how much she’d cherished that.
A shiver runs down her spine, and she shifts slightly, wondering when it got to be so cold, when she got to be so stiff. She should go back, the rest of the team will be wondering where she got to, but the sunset is so soothing, the water so lovely that she can’t bring herself to move, at least not yet.
She’ll go back in a few minutes, she promises herself, and she’s so busy talking herself into it that she doesn’t hear him coming, jumps when he sits down beside her.
She expects him to talk, to say something, anything to break the silence, because garrulous could be Cameron’s middle name, and she’s surprised when he seems to be content just to sit there beside her. She sneaks a peak out of the corner of her eye, sees that he’s staring across the lake, watching the water, a half-smile on his face. She wants to ask him what it makes him think of, but then his head turns, his blue eyes meeting hers and the words stick in her throat.
His eyes, she realises, are the exact blue of the sky. She’d never noticed that before.
Just like she’s never noticed how soft his lips are, how gentle, how eminently kissable, and she comes to that realisation now when he leans over, brushes a whisper of a kiss across her lips. The kiss sends another shiver down her spine, raises gooseflesh on her arms, and while part of her wonders if it’s disrespectful to be kissing a man for the first time on the second anniversary of her father’s death, there’s another part of her that says her father would be the first one to say carry on.
Cameron initiated the kiss, and it’s he who breaks it, but it’s Sam who asks, “What was that for?”
Cameron shrugs, gives her that crooked half-smile that has the power to either soothe her worries or irritate her beyond belief. “Because of today,” he says, and a lump springs unbidden to her throat, because he’d been there two years ago, had hugged her at the funeral, but she didn’t think he’d remember. “Because I wanted to.”
The second statement brings the lump in her throat closer to the surface and she swallows it back determinedly. She will not cry, not today, not when things finally feel right between them. “Good,” she says, and she pulls him close and kisses him again.