blue flamingos

Christmas Ficlets Cam/John

Fandom: SG1/SGA

Category/Rated: Slash/PG

Year/Length: 2010/967 words

Pairing: Cam/John

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.

Author's Notes: For camshaft22, who asked for: John/Cam-Holidays at home

Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.


"Hello, Cameron."

Cam straightened reflexively from where he was leaning against the side of the house after taking his cousin's call. "Good evening, ma'am."

"Sarah, please," she said, laughing. "John and Kathryn made coffee."

"Thank you." Cam took the mug in both hands and watched the steam curl into the cold air, briefly obscuring the empty sidewalk.

Sarah watched him for a moment, then smiled, shaking her head. "You look like you're thinking of saluting me."

"No," Cam said, stopping before he could tack 'ma'am' on the end. "Just…"

Sarah leaned against the wall next to Cam, who did his best to relax again. "Not used to spending Christmas with a couple of middle-aged lesbians?" she asked, teasing.

Cam laughed. "Not used to spending it with someone else's parents." He burnt his mouth taking a sip of coffee, then admitted, "First time I've got to meet the parents stage."

"Oh, sweetheart." Sarah rubbed his shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I've been the parent in this situation. Well, the girlfriend of the parent."

Oddly, that did make Cam feel better, as did Sarah's conspiratorial smile. "Do you think we're doing okay?" she asked.

Cam could hear John in the kitchen, laughing with his mom, sounding relaxed and happy. "Yeah, I think so."

Sarah clinked her coffee mug against Cam's. "Kathryn says John doesn't usually bring anyone home."

Cam shrugged, not sure what to say. He didn't take people home to his parents either, and still wasn't all that sure what to make of John asking him back for Christmas. The whole thing made him feel young and clueless, not at all like a recently promoted Air Force major, but weirdly, he didn't mind, even it was a pretty strange Christmas.

"She was thrilled when he called to ask if he could bring you back," Sarah said quietly. "He talks about you a lot, apparently."

Cam ducked his head, sure he was blushing. Sarah laughed. "Nothing like parents to make you feel like a child, is there? Not that I ever met Kathryn's, but I had my fair share." She slung her arm around Cam's shoulders, tugging him away from the wall. "Come on, let's go back inside."

John looked up, frowning slightly, until Cam smiled at him. "Everyone okay?"

"They're all fine. Send their best wishes for the holiday."

"I hope you returned them for us," Kathryn said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"So polite." Sarah laughed, crossing the kitchen to put her arm around Kathryn's waist.

"He's well brought-up," Kathryn corrected.

John laughed. "He's right there."

"Yes, dear," Kathryn said, ruffling his hair.

John ducked away, winding up next to Cam, who figured this was the one place he could actually act like John was something more than a friend, and caught John's wrist, pulling him closer. "What?" John said.

Cam shrugged, then kissed him, quick and chaste.

"Aren't they sweet?" Sarah said.

"Adorable," Kathryn agreed.

John ducked his head against Cam's shoulder. "Remind me again why I brought you here."

Cam hugged him, figuring that was as good an answer as any. 


This one – the fifth in three weeks – had the added bonus of being not just robbed, but burned. "Who sets a fifty year old grave on fire?" Colby asked, staring at the dug-up, torched mess.

"That's what we were wondering," said a voice he didn't know.

He and David turned as one, only to find themselves face-to-face with a slightly vacant looking guy in a beige trench-coat, and a younger man in a dark suit. "Agents Jones and Williams from the Texas office," the younger man said, showing his badge. Apparently, he was Jones.

"Good to meet you," David said, shaking Jones' hand, then holding his out to Williams, who looked at it with the same slightly vague look, until Jones nudged him and he shook David's hand. Colby decided not to bother with the hand shakes. "You're following this case?"

"Saw the same thing there," Jones confirmed. Maybe Williams didn't speak. "Followed the case down here."

"You're fugitive recovery?" Colby asked, surprised.

Jones and Williams exchanged fast looks, then Jones shook his head. "Regular agents like yourselves. Just interested in the case."

"Long way to come for a few grave robberies," David said, and Colby heard the hint of doubt in his voice, pleased to know that he and David were more subtle than Jones and Williams.

"It was a short journey," Williams said suddenly. Jones gave him a momentary glare, then turned a bland smile back on Colby and David.

"Jet lag. He doesn't fly well."

"Actually –"

"Anyway," Jones said, talking over him, "We're interested in the case. We'd like to work together."

"Sure," David said.


"So, I called the Texas office," David said later, leaning on the edge of Colby's desk.

Colby tipped back in his chair and looked up. "No-one's heard of them?"

"Gold star for Agent Granger."

"You think they're our suspects?"

"Oh, yeah. And it just so happens, Agent Jones' coffee mug made its way into my possession, and from there to evidence response."

"Gold star for Agent Sinclair."

Don, sadly, was a lot less inclined to hand out gold stars, when it turned out that Agent Jones was listed as Winchester, Dean (deceased), and Agent Williams as Novak, James (missing).

Particularly after Colby and David went to check out the motel they'd said they were staying at, and found no evidence that they'd ever been there.

"I knew I should have called out sick when I had the chance," Colby grumbled.

David shrugged. "There's always Charlie."

Except that, apparently, even their genius mathematician drew the line somewhere, and grave robberies and dead and missing men impersonating FBI agents, was way over the other side of that line.

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