anr

fic: the distance between (2/2) (rpf: battlestar galactica)

Nov 04, 2005 03:15

Classifications and warnings available here.

Continued from Part I.

* * * * *

The Distance Between by anr
* * * * *

Jamie avoids her, after that.

Because it would look strange and obvious otherwise, she makes a few painful attempts to chat with him over the next couple of weeks. She's always polite, and friendly, but their conversations never involve anything other than shop-talk and even that seems kinda strained on his end. Set gossip reveals that Kerry and the girls have remained in Los Angeles instead of returning to Vancouver -- no doubt, Katee thinks, because Kerry's still working -- so she puts it down to that and is careful to avoid being alone with him. By the end of March, they've pretty much perfected the art of ignoring each other and, yeah, it hurts, but she's got to believe it's better than the alternative.

In April they all go to Comic Con and she sits beside him like always. They field all the standard questions, pose for all the usual photos, and when she flirts outrageously with him during the last panel, the fans eat it up like candy. It's all an act, of course, but the fans don't know that and she'd rather curl up and die than let what happened between them ruin the Starbuck and Apollo dynamic for anyone else.

Kerry brings the girls back to Vancouver in May and by then it's obvious that she's not pregnant. Katee watches Jamie from the safety of her trailer as he plays with his kids between takes, and knows that this doesn't change anything. The fact that she's no less gullible than the twenty-six million other TV Guide readers in the world doesn't mean that it won't be for real next time, and she has no desire to put herself through that kind of agony again.

SciFi premieres the new season in the last week of June, and Ron gives them all the night off work. Grace invites everyone over to her place to watch but it's mid-season for them, and they've all been in-character for four months straight, so no one's that surprised when they end up watching old movies instead and recasting themselves as the leads. It's decided that she and Jamie would make a perfect Scarlett and Rhett, and she agrees, but only because he hasn't stopped staring at her all night and she'd love to throw a vase at his head.

In July she heads to Maui for a week of sun, sand and margaritas, and literally bumps into Alex, who she hasn't seen since just before the miniseries started filming five years ago. He's there on business -- freelance photography, if she remembers correctly -- but that doesn't stop him from asking her if she's available for dinner. She is, of course, and they spend all night catching up... and then do the same again the next night, and the night after that, and by the end of the week she's finding it incredibly difficult to remember why she broke up with him in the first place. He's funny, and smart, and easy to be with --

"So, what's his name?"

"What's who's name?"

"The guy you're trying to convince yourself you're not hopelessly in love with. And rather unsuccessfully, I might add."

-- and way too perceptive for his own good; the reasons why they stopped dating all come flooding back. But she laughs, and brushes the subject aside (she's had a lot of practice doing that this year), and he lets her get away with it because she's flying home tomorrow, and she thinks they both knew when she arrived that this was never going to be the start of some big reconciliation.

"He's a fool to not want you," Alex says at the airport the next day, while she waits for her flight to be called, and she smiles sadly.

"I don't think wanting's ever been the problem. Having, on the other hand..." She shakes her head and doesn't finish, just reaches up and kisses him goodbye, because she really did have a great time this week.

"Take care," he says, and hands her her carry-on.

"You too."

*

Even though they're still at least a month away from filming, David starts working on the season's cliffhanger episodes in August. He and Ron are both determined to end things with a bigger-than-usual bang this year (probably to prove, beyond all doubt, that the show really is worth its five year contract) but they're both keeping quiet as to what this will actually involve and the rumours are flying thick and fast around the set.

Katee doesn't really care what happens in the finale -- she trusts Ron implicitly to do what's right by Starbuck -- but, then again, she does have more pressing concerns on her mind right now.

Staying employed long enough to make it to the finale, for example, would be a nice start.

"Crap." Pushing Meatball off her sofa, she starts pulling up the cushions. "Crap, crap, crap, shit."

There's a loud pounding on her door.

"Just a minute!" she yells out, and gets down onto the floor so she can look underneath the furniture.

The pounding stops -- and she thinks, thank god -- but then the door flies open and the next thing she knows she's got a five-foot-nine crazy person in her trailer.

"Did you know about this? Tell me you didn't know about this!"

"Know about what?" she asks absently, crawling over to her backpack and upending its contents on the floor. "Have you seen my belt?"

"Oh, you did -- that's so unfair!" Looking up, she watches as Grace flings herself onto her sofa dramatically, almost flattening Meatball in the process. "God, why am I always the last person to find out about this sort of stuff?"

"Grace!" she says, and snaps her fingers. "Focus!" Grace peeks at her from under the arm flung over her eyes. "My belt?"

Grace groans, and rolls her eyes. "Oh, screw your belt. I'm feeling dangerously uninformed here!"

"And I'm going to be dangerously unemployed if I don't get my ass over to the set. I was five minutes late ten minutes ago."

"Oh, fine!" With an exaggerated sigh, Grace picks herself up and heads to the opposite end of the trailer. "Here," she says, plucking the belt off the top of the TV (Katee gapes a little, because it certainly wasn't sitting there a moment ago), and tossing it at her. "Now can we discuss this?"

Sliding the belt around her waist, Katee nods. "You have ten seconds," she says, because she's not going to say no to the person who's just saved her ass, and then jumps when Grace shoves the Passages page of the Who Weekly under her nose. "Robert Downey Jnr arrested for cocaine possession again?" she reads quizzically.

Grace slaps her with the magazine. "Not that, you dummy. This."

Rubbing her arm, Katee snatches the magazine off her and looks at where Grace is pointing to the bottom of the page.

... Actor Jamie Bamber, 35, and wife, singer Kerry Norton, have divorced after almost five years of marriage. The pair have three daughters...
"Well?" says Grace impatiently, when she doesn't say anything, and Katee just shrugs.

"Well what?"

Grace looks like she's going to burst something. "Did you know?"

Handing her back the magazine, Katee rolls her eyes. "You shouldn't believe everything you read, you know," she says dismissively, and then remembers the time. "Shit, they're gonna kill me!" Grabbing her jacket, she flies out the door and by the time she's hit the set, Grace's article is the last thing on her mind.

After all, nobody's that gullible twice.

*

In September, it rains. Constantly. And for two weeks straight, which seems to put everyone in a bad mood. Episode ninety-five has to be rescheduled because it's meant to be filmed almost entirely on location, Kandyse comes down with some kind of viral infection (which she kindly passes on to James, Tricia, Mary, David and six of the crew), and Katee's car finally decides that it doesn't need brakes anymore. Or, at least, that's what she's assuming it decided the night she couldn't stop at an intersection and ended up decapitating a garden gnome and three letterboxes.

It could be worse though, she tries to think optimistically, as she stands under the dripping awning outside the lot and waits for her taxi, she could be...

"Katee?"

Glancing skywards, she rolls her eyes -- gee, thanks -- but it's with a smile fixed firmly on her face that she turns around. "Jamie. Hey."

"Hey." He frowns. "I thought you'd already gone for the night?"

She nods. "Just waiting for my taxi." When he looks at her blankly, she half-explains, "my car's in the shop...?" and he blinks.

"Oh." Obviously, he hasn't been getting his set gossip this week. "And you've been catching cabs to and from work?"

She shrugs. "Not all week, no. Usually Tahmoh or Grace give me a lift."

He actually looks around for a moment, before stating the obvious. "Today's their day off."

"I know." She almost says, which is why I'm waiting for public transport, but Jamie's still looking about, like he can't quite work out why she's standing out here instead of already being at home, and now it's her turn to frown. "Are you okay? You seem a little... distracted. Or something."

"What?" She watches him straighten, and finally meet her eyes. "No, I'm fine." Off her doubtful look, he adds, "just a little tired, maybe. Long day, you know?"

He's been doing Viper scenes all afternoon, so that makes sense. "Okay." She waits for him to say goodbye, and leave, and when he doesn't, takes the initiative herself. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then..."

"Tomorrow," he repeats, and nods. "Right." He glances out at the soaked parking lot -- takes a step towards the rain -- and then stops and looks back at her. "Would you like a lift?"

No. Yes. Shit. "Nah," she says, shaking her head, "my taxi'll be here..." she glances at her watch and can't help but wince, "... soon?"

At her tone, he crosses his arms and almost smirks, almost seems more like himself. "Define 'soon'."

"Um... sometime this year?" She laughs though, and starts rummaging through her backpack for her cell.

"Katee --"

She waves him off. "It's fine. Really. I'll just call them again and remind them how they shouldn't leave stars standing in the rain, and there'll be a taxi here before you know it."

"Uh huh."

"Really," she repeats, and smiles her brightest smile at him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"If you're sure..."

"I am." Hitting redial, she lifts her cell up to her ear and waggles her fingers at him. "Later."

"Yeah." Tugging his jacket closer around his body, he gives her a final look, and then turns and heads into the rain.

*

Five minutes later, she's still on hold -- ... your call is important to us... -- and getting wetter, despite the awning. Pressing closer to the wall behind her, she glares at the sky and the rain and the world in general... and is somehow unsurprised when Jamie's SUV pulls up in front of her. The passenger side window rolls down just enough for her to see him leaning across to unlock the door.

"Get in," he says, and she hesitates just long enough for the impersonal voice recording to tell her, once again, that her call has 'progressed in the queue' before giving up.

"Thanks," she says, as she clambers inside and shuts the door. Jamie nods and waits for her to throw her backpack onto the backseat and find her seatbelt before pulling away from the curb.

"No problem."

*

She doesn't live that far away but it's wet, and the traffic is heavy, so she's not too surprised when the usually fifteen minute drive takes at least double that. They don't talk much -- Jamie's concentrating hard on the roads -- and there's a not-quite-classical CD playing, so Katee just sits back and watches the world pass them by. She's comfortable, and relaxed, almost dangerously so, and when Jamie finally pulls up outside her building, it takes her a moment to realise that, yes, they have actually arrived.

Slipping off her seatbelt, she smiles at him. "Thanks," she says, as she reaches behind her for her bag.

He smiles back. "Anytime."

Her backpack isn't coming. Twisting in her seat, she tries to get a better grip on it. One of the straps seems to be caught on something -- a carseat, she realises a moment later -- so she contorts further until she's almost half climbing through the gap between the two front seats. Jamie watches her with an amused expression.

"Are you quite right there?"

"Sure," she says. Her elbow hits his shoulder and he grunts in surprise. "Sorry."

"No wonder the cab never arrived. Do you beat up their drivers too?"

She laughs. "Only when they try to charge me too much." Stretching ludicrously, she just manages to get her fingertips under the caught strap. "Aha!" Pulling back awkwardly, she drags the backpack free. "Got it!"

"Yay," he says, mostly sarcastically, but he's still smiling and suddenly it occurs to her that she's rather close. Much closer, in fact, than she usually allows off the set these days.

"Well, um, thanks," she says again, and starts to turn back into her seat. She's off balance, though, and when her hand slips, it's only his quick fumbling that stops her from falling shoulder and head first into the steering wheel. So she blinks, and says, "hi," rather stupidly, because he's really close now and she can't quite figure out where all her limbs are.

"Hi," he agrees, and kisses her.

The Kara/Lee storyline's been focusing more on their working relationship for most of this season, much to the fans' displeasure, while Ron maps out the next four years -- he doesn't want them to burn out too soon -- so it's been exactly eleven months and five days since she last felt the slide of his lips on hers. But, oh, it's just like she remembers -- he's just like she remembers -- and even though she knows she'll hate herself for it later, she sinks into his touch without a moments hesitation.

The drag of his tongue on her bottom lip spins her senses, while the tiny, indistinct sound he makes when she kisses the corner of his mouth scatters any remnants of self-control. Her mouth parts under his, drawing him in further, and he kisses her like he's drowning, like she's air, like this is everything he needs to survive. She can smell his aftershave, and the rain, and the combination is heady, intoxicating, and she thinks she has never wanted him more than she does right now.

Then somebody accidentally touches the horn -- it might have been him, but she's honestly not sure -- and the sound is enough to jar them apart.

He's panting rather heavily but, then again, so is she. When he licks his lips, they're still close enough for her to feel the faintest touch of his tongue against her own mouth.

"I --" want you, "-- can't feel my legs," she admits, reluctantly.

He chuckles breathlessly, and brushes his lips against her forehead. "Okay."

It takes them a minute or so of awkward maneuvering to untangle their limbs, but eventually she's back in her seat. He keeps one of her hands caught between his and, when he raises it to his mouth, and kisses her fingertips, what little breath she's managed to reclaim flees once more.

Do you want to come up? The words stick in her throat as he lets her go, and she tells herself that's a good thing.

"Tomorrow?" he says, and she nods.

"Tomorrow."

She gets out and is soaked almost immediately, so she doesn't bother running for the entrance, just stands there on the curb and watches him drive away.

*

When he doesn't come into work the next day, she runs through her scenes with Mary on auto-pilot and then spends the majority of her weekend telling Meatball it was a mistake, or just a kiss between friends, or maybe they were acting a yet unwritten scene from the show... and she's right, because she does hate herself a little now, but that's mainly because she knows she's full of shit and the kiss wasn't any of those things. (Except maybe for the mistake part -- that one's probably the truth.)

She almost calls him at least a dozen times and is (mostly) relieved each time she hangs up before dialing the final number.

By the time Monday rolls around, she's pretty much convinced herself that, yes, while it was most definitely a mistake, at least it was a smaller mistake than last time so she probably shouldn't beat herself up over it too much. Then she arrives on set to find Ron almost tearing his hair out because Jamie has now officially called in sick with the same viral infection that knocked out the others (she's quickly been written into four new scenes so that the episode can still be completed on time) and all her she-will-avoid-him/she-won't-avoid-him arguments become redundant.

She remembers the warm press of his skin against hers in the car -- adds fever-induced-delirium to her list of excuses -- and reluctantly decides that it never really happened in the first place.

*

Jamie's off work for a week and comes back just in time for it to be her turn at death's door, so it's October before they have to spend any real time together. The rain has finally stopped so Ron hands them all the revised scripts for episode ninety-five (which will now be episode ninety-nine) and promises to fire the next person who falls ill. (Katee has a sneaking suspicion he's made a similar threat to God about the weather.)

"I think Sergio wants you."

They're walking hand-in-hand across the park and when Jamie turns to see what she means, his momentum pulls her closer. He sighs. "What now?" Dropping her hand, he jogs off, and Katee sighs a little herself before sitting down. Absently plucking at strands of grass, she watches Jamie talk with Sergio, and then waves at Grace and Tahmoh, who are playing with Emily, the four-year-old hired to be their daughter, over by the swings. Grace has Emily in her lap, and every time the swing arcs towards him, Tahmoh pretends to try and pull them off. Emily is squealing loudly and Katee thinks this is going to be one of the cutest things ever seen on the show.

Jamie heads back and stands beside her.

"What's going on?" she asks, shading her eyes with one arm as she looks up at him.

"They want us to turn it up a notch," Jamie shrugs. "Apparently we're not delivering the right mood." Grabbing her hand, he pulls her up. "C'mon."

He heads closer to a nearby set of trees and takes a seat in front of one of them, his back propped up against the trunk. Following his lead, she settles in the vee of his legs and leans back against his chest. His arms wind around her and he takes her hands in his. When she looks over at the crew, Sergio gives them both a thumbs-up.

"Problem solved," she says idly, and watches Jamie play with her fingers.

"Yeah." His palms flatten against hers, like he's comparing hand spans, and then smooth over her wrists and around, until he's cupping them between his.

They stay like this for the next twenty minutes or so, and then swap places. One of the crew brings over a paperback, which Katee pretends to read, while Jamie lies with his head in her lap. Her free hand is in his hair, nails dragging absently across his scalp, and when he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, she pauses and looks down at him.

His eyes are closed, but he turns his head slightly, cheek almost brushing against her stomach. "Read to me?" he asks, and because she can't think of a single good reason not to, she nods and clears her throat and starts from the first sentence she sees.

(Five minutes later, she has to stop and find the first chapter, because she has absolutely no idea what it is she's reading, and Jamie smiles but doesn't say anything.)

After awhile, Grace wanders over and drops down in the shade near them. "Remind me again why I want kids?"

Laughing, Katee puts down the book. "Tired?"

"Mmm hmm." Leaning back on hands, Grace stretches out. "Thank god for nap time."

"For you or Emily?"

Grace laughs. "Both!"

Jamie shifts so he can reach over and tug at her ponytail. "Where's Tahmoh?"

"Getting food." Grace twitches away from him, and Katee slaps his shoulder lightly.

"Hey! What a great idea," she says, with all the subtly of a sledgehammer, and Jamie rolls his eyes.

"Alright, alright. I'm going." He gets to his feet and groans, rolling his shoulders back. "You want anything in particular?"

Her gaze is currently caught on the patch of skin just visible above the waistband of his jeans where his shirt has risen up while he stretches, so she just shrugs, and mumbles something noncommittal, because what she wants is most certainly not on the set menu.

Jamie wanders away, and she watches him go, before turning back to Grace. Who's grinning at her. A lot. "What?" she asks.

"Nothing."

"Uh huh."

"No, really." Grace shrugs, and smiles up at the tree canopy above them. "It's just sweet is all."

"What is?"

"You know," she waves a hand blindly, "you two. Totally skipping all that new relationship awkwardness and instead moving straight into the comfortable we've-been-together-for-years stage."

Katee shrugs. "Well, Sergio said to make it look as established as possible. I think Ron really wants to screw with the fans' minds with this episode."

Grace almost does a double take. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

A little surprised by her reaction, Katee blinks. "Starbuck and Apollo, of course." She frowns, "... why? What are you talking about?"

Grace is looking at her like she's a simpleton. "You and Jamie," she says, as though it's obvious.

"Me and..." Katee gapes at her. "Excuse me?" Frantically, she tries to remember if she's ever done or said anything to give Grace such an idea. Yeah, things were screwed up for awhile there earlier in the year, but she's pretty sure they managed to maintain discretion over what had happened between them.

"Katee, come on." Grace hits her on the leg. "I mean, I get the whole keeping it quiet thing, because it's only been a couple of months since the divorce and all, but I'm your bestest birthday-sharing bud. You don't need to keep up the facade with me."

"Grace... Jamie and I... we aren't..." Divorce? Suddenly, Katee's really glad she's already sitting down.

"Oh, please. Have you seen the way you are with each other? The man never takes his eyes off of you, and I swear you're just as bad. If I didn't love the two of you so damn much, I'd probably have to kill you both for even thinking about hiding it from me in the first place."

"Grace..." she says again, but that's all that she can manage. She feels dizzy, and light-headed, and her brain is currently rewinding through the past few months -- the past year -- and none of it makes sense anymore. Not a single goddamned day. She forces herself to speak. "... can I ask you a stupid question?"

"Sure."

"When did Jamie get divorced?" The moment the words slip out, she wishes she could take them back, because this is a subject she swore she'd never let herself even contemplate, let alone discuss.

Grace smiles. "Three months ago," she answers, "but that's not what you should be asking me."

"It's not?" She looks up and sees Grace's bright grin and pales. "Oh, god. How long have you known?"

Clapping her hands, Grace beams. "Finally! And the answer to that is: ever since the rumours about the cracks in Jamie and Kerry's marriage first started appearing --"

Don't want to know. Don't want to know. Don't want to know.

"-- about two years ago."

Her stomach lurches dangerously. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Laughing, Grace moves so she's sitting beside her, and rubs her shoulders. "No, you won't. You'll be fine."

"Two years?"

"I know, it surprised me a little too at first. Not to mention the fact that, until the Burbank convention, I thought for sure it was just him."

"Oh, god."

"But then I saw how you freaked out that night at the hotel and I put two and two together --"

Her head snaps up so fast she almost gives herself whiplash. "We didn't -- I mean, I may have thought, but back then I never --"

Grace nods. "I know, but feelings still add up to four."

She wilts then, and drops her head onto Grace's shoulder. "I never meant for it to happen, you know?" she says quietly. "I thought it was just a crush or transference or, god, anything but this."

"I know," says Grace again and rubs her back comfortingly. "That's why we never said anything."

She sits up again. "We?" she asks, right before the penny drops. "Tahmoh," she sighs, and Grace nods.

"Yeah?"

They both look up, but it's Grace who answers. "Please tell me you have food."

The man in question grins. "That depends. Do you know the magic word?"

"Now?"

"Ha! Since when has that ever been a magic word?"

"Since now. Gimme!"

"So mature... hey!" Laughing, Katee watches as Grace lunges for him, and then finally looks up at Jamie, who's still standing beside her.

"Everything okay?" he asks, and for the first time in what seems like forever, she doesn't feel a need to evade the question.

"Perfect." She nods at the plate in his hands. "Do I need a magic word too?"

He inclines his head a little, and takes a step closer so he can sit beside her. "I hear please always works wonders."

She smiles, and feels his shoulder bump against hers as he hands her the food. "How about thank you?"

He smiles back. "Perfect."

*

Sergio sends a freshly napped Emily over to them a little while later, and they spend a good half hour or more playing with the girl under the trees. At one point she and Grace find themselves on the guys' backs, piggy-back style, while Emily runs circles around them, and it's insane, and hilarious, and when Jamie finally drops her on her ass to avoid her tickling, she's laughing too hard to care.

He drops down onto the grass beside her, and brushes her hair from her eyes, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to just reach up and wrap her fingers around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. It's chaste, and barely there -- a stage kiss, she thinks, because there are still cameras rolling -- but it's still enough to make her shiver.

When he pulls back, and gives her a slightly questioning look, she just smiles at him helplessly, and then grabs him hard and rolls them down the slight incline, and by the time they've stopped moving, he's laughing too.

They film the next segment right there, curled up on the grass, with her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her, just dozing in the sun, and when one of the PA's comes over to tell them that's a wrap, she almost can't bring herself to move.

She does though, and she pulls him up too, and then they head over to where everyone else has gathered to watch some of the feeds before the equipment all gets packed away. James looks exhausted, as he sits with Tricia, passing a bottle of water back and forth, and Katee's not really that surprised, considering these two have been acting the same scene over and over again all day, while the rest of them just improv'ed in the background.

"Rough day?" she asks sympathetically, and Tricia rolls her eyes.

"Don't ask."

Jamie walks away to chat with Ron, who's just arrived, so she takes a seat next to Michael, and makes fun of his Hawaiian shirt, and talks with Mary and Paul, who have spent most of the day filming on the other side of the park with Eddie, and by the time Sergio finally remembers to tell them they can all go home, Tricia's almost asleep on James' shoulder. So she starts saying her goodbyes, and finds her backpack, and then changes her mind about leaving straight away, because the weather is still nice, even if it is cooling down now that the sun's fading, and wanders over to the swing-set that Tahmoh and Grace had called dibs on earlier.

It's quieter now, without Emily laughing and crew running around, James going crazy and Sergio yelling "cut!", and she rocks back in the swing until she's got a semi-decent sway happening, and then smokes a cigarette while her momentum takes care of the rest.

She can see the trees where they were all sitting earlier, and she tries not to think about her conversation with Grace too much because she's terrified that, if she does, she'll start over-analysing everything they talked about and she doesn't want to ruin the warm little buzz she's still got going just yet.

Eventually she has to kick herself into moving again, if for no other reason than, at some point tonight, she's going to need to find a bathroom, so she grabs her stuff and starts making her way towards the parking lot. Everybody else seems to have gone already and, as she digs out her car keys, she wonders if she's feeling brave enough to call up Jamie and ask him if he wants to get together for a bite to eat or a drink or something.

Then she looks up, and sees him leaning against the side of her car, and realises courage is extremely overrated.

"Hey you," she smiles, "I didn't think anyone else was still here."

He nods towards the exit. "Ron and Sergio just left." He shifts off her door, so she can unlock it and throw her bag inside and then lean against the frame herself. "And I saw you walking up, so I figured I'd hold back long enough to say goodnight."

"That's sweet," she says, and he shrugs, and opens his mouth, but she beats him to it because, all sweetness aside, she really doesn't want to hear the word goodbye just yet. "So, um, do you wanna, maybe, go grab some dinner or something?" she asks, and then flushes, just a little, because that came out nowhere near as smooth or casual as she would have liked.

"I'd love to," he says, and she beams at him, "but I can't," and her stomach does a nasty little backflip.

"Oh." With difficulty, she tries to keep her smile in place. "Okay. Well. Maybe tomorrow or --" He's not smiling at all, she realises suddenly, so she swallows hard and finishes with an inadequate, "-- whenever." She wraps her keychain around her index finger tightly and thinks it'd be awfully nice if a hole in the ground could open up right about now.

"I'm sorry," he says, and she nods quickly.

"Hey, no biggie." She pastes the brightest smile she can manage onto her face and turns back to her car. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She hears him take a step away, and then stop, and god, she's not going to turn around, because she's pretty sure she's just humiliated herself enough for one night, thankyouverymuch. "It's just... I don't think I can keep doing this. With you. I mean, I love you dearly, but I'm not like you... I can't just keep turning it off on cue and having it all mean nothing the next day. It's too hard." He pauses, and she hears him kick at the gravel. "I'm sorry," he says again, quietly, and this time, when he starts to walk away, she turns so fast she almost trips over her own two feet.

"What was that middle part again?" And, shit, it's the wrong thing to say, she knows that the moment the words pass her lips, because that's what Kara once said and this has nothing to do with their characters and the show and, fuck, he's still walking away. "I love you."

She's never said that before, not properly, not when it really matters -- hell, she's never even let herself think the words in relation to him -- but admitting it is not nearly as terrifying as she thought it might be, so she slams her car door shut, and takes two steps after him and, yeah, her heart's beating so fast she thinks she might pass out, but he's stopped walking at least, so she says it again, slower this time, louder. "I love you."

He doesn't turn around, not completely, but he does look to the side, like maybe he's going to look over his shoulder. "There's no camera here, Katee."

"I know." She takes another step closer to him.

"And no one's going to yell 'cut'."

"Good." Another step, and now she's standing right behind him and, god, he's still not turning around and suddenly she's wondering if maybe she's got it all wrong, because maybe he didn't mean it like that, and, fuck. "Jamie --"

He moves so fast she almost, almost steps back in surprise, but then his hands are on either side of her face, and his lips are slanting across hers, and she forgets whatever it was she was going to say next because the universe is reducing itself to just him, and her, and the lightning strike of heat that jolts straight down to her toes as he kisses her breathless.

She's gasping when they finally come up for air, and it takes her a moment to find her voice. "So," she manages eventually, "dinner?"

And he laughs, and hugs her so tightly her feet almost leave the ground. "Okay."

*

They decide to grab a pizza, and head back to her place, and she can't stop smiling as she drives, can't stop touching her lips and grinning, and it takes her twice the time it usually takes to get there because she's two blocks from her street when she realises she's completely forgotten to stop and actually get the pizza, so she has to turn around and do half the trip all over again.

He's already there when she finally makes it home, just leaning against the wall next to her front door, waiting for her, and her heart skips a beat when he smiles as she approaches.

"I think your neighbours are worried I'm casing the joint or something," he says, in his best American accent, and she laughs as she hands him the pizza so she can find her keys.

"Well, you're welcome to take whatever you want," she says, letting them inside.

"Really?"

"Sure." She shuts the door and flicks the deadbolt and then stills as his hands slide over her hips and his mouth finds the back of her neck.

"Good," he says, and she shudders as the word vibrates on her skin, "because what I want is you."

God. Pivoting in his grip, she fists her hands in his jacket and tugs him closer; suddenly needs to kiss him so badly her head's spinning even before his lips brush hers.

"Katee," he says against her mouth, and for a moment the kiss is almost sweet, almost gentle, but then his hands slip into her jacket, and skim upwards, pushing it off her shoulders, and sweet and gentle are drowned under a wave of pure, unadulterated lust.

His jacket follows hers, and then their shirts, and when her back hits her door, he maneuvers a thigh between hers and she grinds against him shamelessly, scratching her nails across his shoulder blades. Too fast, she thinks briefly, but she can't stop kissing him, can't stop feeling, and so she tells herself they'll go slower next time and pulls him even closer.

He groans, and slaps one of his hands onto the door near her head, and pushes away just enough for their lips to part. "God," he manages, "what you do to me --" and she can only nod in agreement, because his other hand is on her breast, thumb brushing back and forth over her nipple, and each caress hits her just that little bit harder.

Then he's kissing her again. And again. And she drags her hands down his chest and fights with the fastening on his jeans, and he follows her lead, and the next thing she knows, his hand is working its way past denim and cotton and his fingers are sliding over her sex -- and she can't help it, she whimpers -- and then into her and, oh, god, ohgod, fuck.

She arches into him, and her jeans really aren't helping here at all, but he works the angle as best he can and it's almost too much -- then is too much -- so she pushes him away and says, "Jamie," because that's the only word she has left in her vocabulary.

He stares at her, breathing hard, and she thinks mine, and something of that thought must show in her eyes, because suddenly he's kissing her again, and it's just a little bit slower than before, so she's able to toe off her shoes and slide her jeans and underwear out of the way, and help him do the same, before she drowns again.

Her bra is the last thing to go, and then there's just the slip of his flesh on hers as he pushes her back against the door, and then into her, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders and lets him sort out their balance, because she's already coming and, god, she'll probably be as embarrassed as hell about that later but right now all she can do is draw him deeper, and kiss him harder, and let her vision white-out and...

He follows her with just a few more thrusts, with what tastes like her name on his tongue, and she's somehow not surprised to find them both sliding down to the ground soon afterwards (god knows her own legs are utterly useless right now) so she just holds him close and tries not to think about how hard her floor is.

"Think we'll ever make it to your bed?" he asks after awhile, when their breathing has slowed enough to speak, and she snorts, and buries her face into his shoulder.

"Right now I'm just glad we made it inside the apartment."

He laughs, and runs his hand up and down her back, and then pulls her backwards with him, rolling until she's lying flat and he's half on top of her.

"Jamie --" she protests, almost laughing herself, as his tongue is drags a line down between her breasts, "the pizza --"

"We can reheat it later," he says, and her eyes slam shut as she feels him smile against her stomach.

She's not really that hungry anyway.

*

She is later, though, and she makes him stand on one side of her kitchen, while she keeps to the other, because they've already contemplated reheating the pizza twice now and she's not so sure she can last another distraction without some food in her.

"Ah!" Without even turning around, she holds up her hand. "Stay."

He laughs. "I haven't moved!"

"Liar," she tells her oven, as she tries to get it to light, "you just took two steps."

"I most certainly did not."

"Did too." He takes another one, and she points at his distorted reflection on her toaster. "I can see you, you know."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Laughing, she slides the pizza into the oven and stands up, unsurprised when his chest meets her back and his palms slide over her hips, settling over her stomach, holding her close. "You're insatiable," she pronounces, but her hands fold over his and she leans her head back onto his shoulder.

He nuzzles the skin where her shoulder meets her neck. "I can't help it," he says, "do you always cook naked?"

She'd hardly call this cooking but, "only when a certain British actor I know keeps removing everything I try to put on."

"Mmm." He brings one hand up to brush aside her hair; leaves a trail of kisses across her collarbone. "Remind me to send him a thank you note."

Tilting her head to the side, she hums a little as his mouth finds a tendon and sucks; lightly at first, then harder. "Ja-mie..."

"Hmm?"

The hand on her stomach smoothes higher, stroking lazily until he can brush the backs of his fingers against the underside of her breasts. She sighs and presses back against him, "... nothing."

She turns the oven off.

*

They do manage to eat eventually, curled up on her lounge, and afterwards she takes him to her bed and when she wakes briefly in the middle of the night, and rolls over to check the time, he's still there, beside her, a leg tangled between hers, and she thinks maybe, just maybe, this might really be happening after all.

*

They arrive on set together in the morning, and Grace takes one long look at Jamie, and her, and then smirks so broadly Katee just wants to hit her, even though they're not due to film that particular scene for another four days. She settles for ignoring her instead, and does quite well at it until lunch time, when Grace corners her at the buffet table.

"Same clothes as yesterday," she says by way of greeting, "very suspicious."

She's referring to Jamie, of course (they didn't have time for him to go home and change before work; barely avoided being late as it was), but Katee just shrugs like she doesn't understand and asks the caterers if they have any more bananas.

"Alright, fine," says Grace, still grinning, "I can take a hint." Grabbing a handful of grapes, she pops one into her mouth, takes two steps away, stops, and turns back. "Before I do, however, a word of advice?" Against her better judgment, Katee looks up expectantly, as Grace leans in close and whispers, "turtlenecks."

Flushing instantly, Katee only just manages to restrain from slapping a hand over her neck, and Grace laughs and walks away.

*

The next three weeks pass in a blur, as another year of filming wraps up, and the first thing Katee does on her day off is go grocery shopping, before her cupboards can give Hubbard's a run for her money.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Jamie -- pick one already."

Studying the racks of loaves intently, he doesn't even glance at her. "Bite me, Katee."

You wish. Exhaling loudly, she slouches further over the cart she's pushing and kicks at one of the wheels. "It's just bread," she mutters, under her breath, but he hears it anyway and he flips her off. She grins despite herself.

She's just about to grab one of the tomatoes already in the cart and lob it at his head, when her cell rings. Rummaging quickly through her bag, she answers it just before it can go through to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Katee!"

She blinks in surprise. "Isla?"

"Guess what! Guess what!"

"Um... what?" She looks up to find Jamie looking at her quizzically, and shrugs helplessly.

"I got two gold stars today!"

She can almost hear the five year old bouncing over the phone -- which is definitely kinda cute -- so she ignores the weirdness that is his kid calling her cell clear out of the blue and smiles a little. "Two, huh? That's pretty impressive."

"My teacher said I did the goodest colouring in on my giraffe. It was purple. Oh! And then I sat really, really quiet in reading time so I got another one. And after school we went to the park and I played on the slide and --" Wow. And she thought Grace could do hyper like nobody's business. "-- are you still coming to Grandma and Grandpa's with us?"

"Uh..." She looks up at Jamie, who's turned back to the bread, and panics a little, 'cause suddenly she has absolutely no idea what Isla's talking about, much less how to answer her. "Hey! You wanna speak to your Daddy? Here!" She thrusts her cell into his hands.

"Hello sweetheart..." She listens as Jamie asks Isla about her day, and her week, and then asks her to give the phone to Darcy and Ava, so he can say hello to them too. Kerry must come onto the line after that, because the conversation suddenly takes on a more adult tone, and Katee starts studying the loaves of bread with a level of intensity that, only minutes ago, she'd mocked him for having.

She's still trying to decide whether she needs more fibre or grain (or a combination of both) in her diet, when he rings off. "Here," he says, holding out her cell, "thanks."

"No problem," she says automatically, taking it from him and slipping it back into her bag. She wants to ask him why the girls are calling her cell, instead of his, but she's not sure how to -- it's not like she minds, per se. It's just... unexpected.

He must see the question in her eyes anyway. "I hope it's okay -- with my mobile playing up recently --" The battery keeps randomly shutting down; she's been telling him to get it replaced for the past two weeks. "-- I gave Kerry your number in case of an emergency and --"

"Hey, it's fine." She pauses for a moment. "Everything okay?"

He nods. "Yeah. Isla just wanted to share her good news."

She smiles. "Well, that's understandable... I hear gold stars are a pretty big deal these days."

He nods, a smile edging across his lips. "Oh, the biggest," he agrees, and he sounds so much like his daughter that she can't help but grin.

"C'mon," she says, leaning into him briefly and bumping her shoulder against his. "Let's get this finished and head home already. I'm starving."

He laughs. "You're always hungry," he says, but he grabs a loaf of bread and tosses it into the cart, and follows her down the aisle, and by the time they've made it to the dairy section, she's back to wanting to throw things at him, because surely it doesn't make that much of a difference whether they get skim yoghurt or fat-free lite yoghurt, and she's about to tell him where he can put the whole shelf's worth, when he suddenly turns and looks at her.

"Come to England with me?"

She freezes; blinks. "When?"

"Christmas." He looks at the yoghurts in his hands and puts them back on the shelf, then changes his mind and picks one of them back up again. "Kerry's letting me take the girls to mum and dad's and I know we haven't really talked about our hiatus plans but we'd be back in time for you start filming that mini-series in January and I --"

He's rambling, and it's sweet (if a little bizarre -- she has no idea what it is about her that makes him so uncharacteristically unsure sometimes), so she starts to smile. "Okay."

"-- asked Isla the other day if she'd be okay with you coming along and --"

Well, that explains the girl's question earlier, she thinks, but he's still talking, so she leaves the cart in the middle of the aisle and takes the three steps necessary for her to reach up and press her fingers to his mouth. "Jamie," she says, cutting him off. "Shut up." He falls silent and looks down, and she moves her hand so she can grip his chin and tilt his gaze back to hers. "I'd love to."

"Really?"

She nods, and keeps smiling, and now he is too, a huge grin spreading across his face, and then he's leaning in and kissing her, just quickly, just like he did three and a half years ago, and she can't help but laugh because it's still awkward, and their arms are all wrong with him holding onto the yoghurt and her hand on his face...

He pulls back. "I love you," he says, quietly, still smiling, and she takes the yoghurt out of his hands and tosses it back onto the shelf.

"I love you too," she says, and kisses him properly.

* * * * *
The End.

FEEDBACK: Always appreciated. *g*

battlestar galactica rpf, katee/jamie, rpf, fandom, fic, nc17 rating

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