The whole thing had been Sheppard's idea. Cameron had tagged along for the ride.

"So," he asks. "Come here often?"

Jackson shrugs, glancing around the dimly-lit bar. "Used to come here with Sam. And Teal'c. And Jack."

Cameron's getting better at deciphering the words when Jackson talks like that, much too fast, and faster if he's got a lot to say.

Sheppard still has to squint. Then he frowns. "You mean General O'Neill?"

Jackson shrugs, then quickly moves onto bigger things. He's curious about Atlantis, no surprise there. The weather in Atlantis, the people in Atlantis. The missions, the ways Sheppard has almost got himself killed. The Pegasus galaxy sounds a lot like this one.

"That part might be classified," Sheppard adds, halfway through a story. Jackson makes a face, as if Sheppard has just got done saying the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

He gives Cameron that look pretty often.

"I keep up with the mission reports," Jackson says. "I was supposed to go, you know."

Cameron rolls his eyes, without trying to hide it.

"I was."

"Sure," Cameron says. "Let's all hear the story again."

"No," Sheppard leans forward in his chair, and his eyes are lighter than Cameron remembers noticing, and suddenly this conversation is going a whole different way. "I wanna hear it."

Compared to Jackson, Sheppard talks at half speed.

Jackson's eyes crease into slits, remembering. "There was this woman…"

"Liar," Cameron supplies helpfully.

"Thief," Jackson adds.

Cameron sighs, and lounges back in his seat.

---

Jackson disappears more than once. Cameron wonders if he always made friends on Earth as easily as he does on missions, or if that one's new. On P3C 712 it was a girl no more than eight years old, who trailed Jackson back and forth across the dusty mining settlement as if he owned the sun.

The Ori came shortly after that.

Tonight it's a woman in blue, getting very drunk with the bachelorette party at the next table, who gives Jackson half her pack of cigarettes.

"Take them. I'm quitting."

Jackson smiles back, and for a second Cameron thinks that yes, he must always have made friends this easily.

---

"He's been gone a while, hasn't he?"

Sheppard shrugs, a sloppy movement that makes Cameron wonder how this guy made it to colonel.

He bets they say that about him too, in the SGC hallways.

"You ever catch yourself worrying about them a little too much?"

It takes him a minute to catch what he's being asked, with his brain half slowed on beer, and Cameron nods. "Apparently. You?"

"Sometimes." Sheppard shrugs again. The whole line of him is relaxed, almost relaxed enough to fool you into thinking that he's not there. "Some of them are damn good at getting themselves into trouble, though."

"Ever think that if you weren't there, they'd be just as good at getting themselves out of it? " Cameron pauses. He licks the beer from his lips. "Forget I said that."

Sheppard only smiles, showing his teeth. "Yeah."

"Hey." Cameron thinks of something else. "Hey. Ever think, when you were a kid watching Star Trek, that you'd grow up to be a part of the war against space aliens?"

Sheppard moves his chair forward, so he can hear better. "You watched Star Trek?"

---

"Y'all, we can't do this." Cameron's the first to say it.

He doesn't think Sheppard hears him. Jackson definitely doesn't hear him, just loosens the hand that's tangled in Sheppard's hair and reaches out to drag Cameron closer.

"Daniel."

He looks up at that, his eyes unfocused. He lost his glasses somewhere on the way in the door. His mouth is flushed, and there's a spot on the side of Sheppard's neck that's pink from being kissed.

"I have to go."

Jackson blinks. "That's not what you said five minutes ago. When you, you know. Came in."

"Yeah."

Sheppard's not saying anything. He leans against Jackson, breathing hard. And Cameron hates him, for just that second, for acting like this is that easy.

He can't stop staring, though, Sheppard's head leaning against Jackson's shoulder.

"I won't tell," Jackson says, very softly.

Cameron wonders how many guys Jackson has said that to, how many guys Jackson has had sex with here, how many of the airmen working inside Cheyenne. If Jackson really believes that anything on a military base is ever a secret. "I can't."

Jackson's hand is massaging Cameron's chest.

Cameron steps back, and picks his jacket up off the floor.

---

When he leaves, Sheppard doesn't. Cameron doesn't spend the whole night thinking about that, not really. He sleeps like a baby, sunk into a dream he can't get out of.

When Cameron jerks off in the shower that morning, it's the image of Jackson that follows him, kneeling over Sheppard's body, taking his cock in his mouth.

---

It's crazy as it's ever been, and between breakfast and lunch he manages not to think about it. Sheppard's still there, undergoing endless briefings with his team.

Sheppard hesitates only slightly before sitting next to Cameron at lunch.

"So. Did you?" Cam speaks through a mouthful of blue Jell-O, suddenly freezing cold in his mouth. Hadn't meant to be asking that.

Sheppard frowns, confused. "Did I what?"

"You." Cameron's words are slow, suddenly unsure if he dreamed the whole thing. "And Jackson."

"Fuck," Sheppard says, loudly, more loudly than Cameron would have guessed he had in him. "Shut the fuck up, Mitchell."

Sheppard drops his spoon, and goes.

---

The afternoon is all meetings, briefings and debriefings. General Landry listens carefully, quotes war heroes and dead presidents. Teal'c sits, stoic. Sam is the same as she ever was, since they were cadets, careful and way smarter than he is. Cameron doesn't remember anymore, why he let that go.

Then Jackson stands, and maybe Cameron does remember. Jackson has charts prepared, on the spread of the Ori through the galaxy. Little white dots cover the wall, where the free-thinking people used to be.

---

"Mind if I hitch a ride?"

If Cam didn't know better, he'd think Sheppard had been waiting for him.

"Look. I'm sorry I yelled at you." Sheppard stretches his legs in the passenger seat of Cameron's Explorer, sounding just surprised enough to make the apology believable. "It's just, next time you're going to ask me something like that, could you wait till we're alone?"

Cameron nods. He's right. "Sorry. I'm a little out of practice."

"Obviously." Sheppard pauses, like he's waiting for something, and just when Cameron's about to ask what he's waiting for, he speaks again. "The answer is no, by the way."

"No?"

"No. Daniel and I didn't. I think he was a little upset that you left."

"Really?" Cameron asks.

---

He and Jackson still play basketball twice a week, so Cameron reckons that's okay.

"Maybe we should check out that bar again sometime. You and me and Sheppard. I'm sure he hasn't heard enough about how you missed the Daedulus."

Jackson makes a face, and steals the ball from Cameron's hands, driving in for a neat lay-up. Cameron can smell him as he goes by, soap and sweat.

Jackson catches the ball ass it arcs down again, tossing it back. "I think John's leaving tomorrow," he says. "Back to Atlantis."

"Ah." Cameron frowns. "I'm kinda surprised I didn't see your request to go with them."

Jackson shrugs. "General Landry says I'm too valuable here."

"Now that we've put the galaxy under threat of getting our non-believing asses handed to us, you mean."

Jackson nods, getting a hand on Cameron's hip as he goes for the net. "Yeah. We can still hang out though. After he's gone."

Cameron misses his shot.

---

The Daedulus leaves orbit with the morning sun. Sheppard and his team leave from the gate room, beamed up one by one.

"Good luck," Sheppard tells Cameron, and the fear on Cameron's face must show, because Sheppard immediately adds, "with the Ori. Kick their asses."

"Yeah," Cameron nods. "You too. Not the Ori, I mean. Those other guys."

Sheppard shrugs. "Yeah."

---

Both Jackson and Sam always manage to get really dirty off world, like kids on a playground. Sam talks to herself in a low voice as she kneels, scooping dirt and slime into tiny containers.

Cameron sits, out of her way, P-90 clutched close.

"What do you mean, team activities?" she asks him with a light frown.

"You know. Bowling. Going out for Chinese food. Starting a poker night, I don't know."

Sam shakes her head, thinking. "The general took us fishing once."

"Oh." Cameron hasn't been fishing since he was a little kid.

"None of us really liked it," she adds. "But you're doing fine, you know that, Cam?"

He doesn't answer her.

She taps the vial that she's holding up to the sun, slowly watching it change colour.

"You think there's any weapon we could find that could help us fight them?" he asks her.

Sam scratches her nose, leaving a smudge on sunburned skin. "Couldn't hurt."

---

Hanging out with Jackson turns out to mean double strength screwdrivers, and the public television channel on in the background.

"So, listen," Cameron says, as Jackson pushes him backward on the couch, knocking over a stack of magazines. He's always talked way too much during this part. Then he loses his train of thought, as Jackson's mouth crushes his.

Fuck.

"I was surprised to hear that you and Sheppard didn't, you know."

"No." Jackson isn't really listening, with his mouth roughly brushing Cameron's cheek, and his hand underneath his shirt. "What?"

"You know." Cameron drawls out the last word with a movement of his hand, with the sudden thought that maybe if he can't say the word, he shouldn't be here.

Jackson leans back for a second, pushing back the glasses that have fallen down on his nose. "Is that what he told you?"

"Well." Cameron stops. "Yeah."

"Hmmmn." Jackson licks his lips, and his fingers are still, against Cameron's chest, and Cameron can't help but notice the weight of Jackson's body on his hips. "And that makes a difference to you, does it?"

Cam doesn't know what to say, for a second, which he isn't used to. His breathing is unsteady. "I don't know. I guess it would depend on what we were talking about."

Jackson is starting to rock back and forth now, almost without realising it, and the friction against the front of his jeans makes Cameron near to dizzy. The way Jackson stares isn't helping either, blue eyes still and almost predatory. "Fucking, Mitchell. We were talking about fucking." Cameron hisses a breath, and something in Jackson's eyes changes, still watching, as if he has figured something out. "Weren't we?"

"Yeah." Jackson leans over and kisses him, slower this time. His mouth is warm and tangy. "Reckon we were."

"You should have stayed," Jackson adds in a low voice, and Cameron has to concentrate to hold back a moan, as his hands tighten on the muscle of Jackson's ass, directing the rhythm of his movements against Cameron's swelling cock.

Jackson leans over him, and Cameron groans, feeling the heat of Jackson's own hardening cock, pressing back against him through his jeans.

"I was nervous."

"I got that," Jackson answers softly, and now he's still for a moment, so long that Cameron almost asks him aloud not to stop. Then the movement continues, sweet rhythmic grinding against Cameron's hips. "Would it help if I was quiet?"

Cameron can't imagine Daniel Jackson ever being quiet for any reason, but he doesn't say so. He concentrates on working the zipper of Jackson's hips downwards. "Not really."

Jackson nods, thrusting slightly against Cameron's hand, lips parting at the sensation. "I fucked him right here on my couch."

"Jesus," Cameron groans, as his fingers find their way into Jackson's boxers, rubbing the slippery head of his cock. He's gratified to hear Jackson moan out loud.

"Then I sucked him off," Jackson continues, slightly breathless. "He screamed. Said it had been a while since he'd been fucked like that." Jackson is talking faster now, Cameron's fingers working faster, his whole palm sliding over the shaft of Jackson's freed cock. "When's the last time that you were fucked?"

"Been a while," Cameron agrees, and then Jackson doesn't say anything for a while, nothing intelligible anyway, just riding Cameron's thighs with one hand on Cam's chest for balance, moaning as Cameron jerks him off. When he comes it's messy and loud. Cameron pulls up his shirt, and lets Jackson spill his come over his belly.

Then Jackson crawls down the length of Cameron's body to taste Cameron's cock, with a sound of enjoyment that makes Cameron hold tighter to Jackson's shoulder, and his mouth is too busy for talking. He talks later though, about the weather, about the Ori, about SG-1. About John Sheppard, and what they did in Jackson's bed.

---

"I meant it, you know." In the morning Jackson makes him coffee. Cameron can't find any other food in the kitchen. "I won't tell anyone."

"Sure," Cameron says. His muscles are sore, and he's fighting the urge to run. He doesn't ask who Jackson thinks he'd tell, if he told anyone. That's not the main thing he's afraid of these days, anyway. "There's things in the galaxy right now a hell of a lot bigger than we are."

Jackson answers with a shrug. "No shit."

Cameron figures that might be the last time that they talk about it.

---

"Hey, Sam. Was it hard?"

Sam stands up, and brushes the dirt from her uniform. "Was what hard?" she asks.

"Taking over for General O'Neill," Cameron answers, waving his hand and meaning much more than that.

She frowns. "I guess it would have been, if I'd thought of it that way."

"What way did you think of it?"

"Like trying to make it back through the gate in one piece," is all she says.

They're due back in two hours, with plenty of daylight left. Cameron hands her his water bottle. She takes it gratefully, grinning at him, and he figures they're doing okay so far.