(no subject)
Title: "Like Oxygen"
Author: Dianora
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Lee/Kara
Written for: chicklet25
Prompt: Rubber duck
Optional prompt: A kiss, at least (oh, chicklet, if only you'd known who you were getting, heh)
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Through "The Eye of Jupiter." Story takes place in between "Unfinished Business" and "The Eye of Jupiter."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Distribution: Wherevs.
Author's Notes: This is...eh. It's done. Under the wire. *g* I'm a bit rusty, so please forgive me.
The first time it happens Lee is simply surprised it hasn't happened sooner.
It's inconceivable, in retrospect, that he's managed to keep from touching or kissing her before this, that he hasn't given in to what he worries in quieter moments is becoming obsession. The only thing stopping him was that they were never alone, never, ever alone, to the point where he started to wonder if Kara was doing it on purpose. He doesn't understand how she couldn't feel the force of his need, when he could so clearly feel hers, could practically smell it on her, imagined he could taste it if just given the opportunity.
So when it happens, when it finally happens, when they somehow end up alone together in the head -- no, he's deluding himself, he purposely scheduled the two of them on a late-night CAP, and they knew exactly what they were doing when they both decided to hit the showers afterward -- and one moment she's complaining about fruitless patrols and the next her mouth is on his, he wants to sink to his knees in relief almost as much as he wants to do exactly what he's doing, which is returning the kiss with everything he has, tongues clashing, mouths bruising, finally tasting her.
He cups her face with his hands as her fingers dig into his sides. She pushes up into him and he pushes back, mouths fused, bodies pressed together, breathing heavy in the silence of the room. Lee feels as if his head is muzzy from drink, his thinking blunted even as his senses are heightened. Not until Kara starts tugging at the edge of his tanks does a sliver of clarity break through.
"We can't," he says. She ignores him, of course, and continues to pull his shirt upward. "What if someone comes in--"
"Live a little, Lee," she says, looking him in the eye. "No one's gonna come in here this late. Besides, that's what makes it fun, right?"
"It's not just that," he says, but finds himself lifting the tanks up over his head anyway.
"Then what?"
She's tugging at the fastenings of his pants, now, which is making it even more difficult to concentrate. "Dee," he manages. "I can't--"
Kara pulls back, fixes him with her gaze, and it's not the first time he can't decipher what's going on behind her eyes. But when she takes off her own tanks and lets them fall to the deck, her eyes still on his, her meaning is clear enough. The muzziness takes hold of his head again; his need rises to the surface. "Kara --"
She cuts him off with a kiss, her mouth hot and insistent. He leans into her again despite himself, but she breaks away from him and grabs a couple towels off a shelf, then starts backing up in the direction of the showers.
"I'm going to, ah, wash up," she says, a cocky grin splitting her face. "You gonna join me or what?"
He swallows hard, then follows her. As if he has a choice at this point.
They shed the rest of their clothing on the way, almost giggling, now, like kids breaking the rules at recess. He follows her into a shower stall, closing the door behind them, then presses her up against the tile and they're kissing again, hands everywhere and breaths harsh and gasping. She smells strongly of sweat and faintly of booze and her nipples are hard beneath his fingertips and the throbbing of his cock is so intense he thinks he could die.
"Gods, I missed you," he whispers, an aching sigh between kisses.
She pulls back and her eyelids lower and she bites her lip and for a heart-stopping moment he wonders if she's having second thoughts, but instead she just reaches out and turns on the shower spray. The water rains down inches away from them, cold at first but quickly warming up. Kara raises her chin and pins him with a challenging stare, looking impossibly alluring with her heavy-lidded hazel eyes and endless expanse of ivory skin.
And he smiles, then, he can't help it, and she smiles back, and for a moment his heart feels lighter than it has in a year and a half. He feels the words he thought he had buried forever that morning on New Caprica bubble up inside him and he opens up his mouth to say them but Kara shakes her head almost imperceptibly and he understands that it's not the right time, that things are complicated enough now, and so he remains silent.
Instead he takes her by the hands and pulls her under the shower spray with him, but as he does his foot lands on something that gives beneath his heel and emits a loud squeak that makes them both start.
"The hell?" He looks down and sees a rubber ducky, of all the ridiculous frakked-up things, and it only adds to the surreality of the moment. He bends down to pick it up and shows it to Kara, who lets out a bark of a laugh.
"Bath toys, Lee? Didn't figure you for the type."
He wrinkles his brow. "Did someone have one of their kids in here or something? Hera's not old enough for showers, is she?" And isn't that against regulations? the tight-ass in the back of his mind adds silently.
"Maybe it's Gaeta's," she says with a snort, and they both laugh, but with a nervous undercurrent this time, as if suddenly realizing they have no right to be laughing in the midst of what they're doing, what vows they're breaking. He squeezes the duck hard, eliciting another squeak. It sounds like a warning klaxon.
"Lee," Kara says. He looks up at her and is surprised to see uncertainty -- a pleading, almost -- in her eyes.
Frak it. He tosses the duck over his shoulder and pulls Kara under the spray again, watching as the water soaks her hair and runs in rivulets over her breasts. He's entranced for a moment, but then blinks rapidly, slicks back his wet hair and bends his head to take one pale nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly, drinking in hot water. He runs his left hand up to her collarbone, her neck. Over her lips, and his thumb slips inside. She bites down gently as he continues lapping at her breast, closing his eyes against the spray.
Finally she tugs at him to come back up and he does, their mouths meeting once more, her hands reaching down to clutch at his ass, her fingers digging into his flesh. His fingers close over both of her nipples and she breaks the kiss, her head falling back in pleasure, water raining down on her forehead. She looks almost vulnerable, then, and it twists at his gut, reminds him that they shouldn't be here, that they're standing on the precipice of disaster and have no one but themselves to blame.
And then she moves her hand to his cock and he tells himself to shut the hell up for once.
He spins her around and drives her back against the tile on the opposite side, and she lets out a delighted yelp, then squeezes his cock firmly, thumbing the tip, the ridge of her ring pressing into his skin. He bites his lip hard, feeling like the top of his head is going to come off. Two can play this game. He slips a finger between her folds to find her clit, and is gratified when she lets out a gasp. Their faces are inches apart, their breath short, hot water pounding them from behind as their hands and fingers move competitively, each trying to bring the other closer to the edge.
Finally Kara lets out a frustrated sigh. "Godsdammit, Lee, are you gonna frak me or what," she says, but her eyes are sparkling. He grins and she lifts her leg to brace over it his, and with her hand still on him, helps him slowly push inside of her.
He swallows hard as his world pinholes to sensation. He takes a moment to place one hand against the tile, holding himself up, getting himself together, before he starts moving slowly within her. He moves his hands to her hips, and she matches his efforts as best she can, her breasts bobbing with her exertions, her face almost a grimace as her hips rock with him.
"Frak, just like that," Kara says, and he obeys, thrusting shallowly, but then she shifts her leg slightly and he slides in deeper, and they both gasp.
"Oh, gods, like that," she whispers.
"Yeah," he agrees, and pumps up into her more roughly now, almost wincing as Kara digs her nails into his shoulders. It's not the easiest position, but he fights through it, muscles straining and knees screaming as he helps her ride him. Faster, harder, and her high-pitched yelps are echoing off the tile, and she's so hot inside, and every strain is worth it.
He's making some fairly embarrassing sounds himself, he knows, and doesn't care, doesn't care about any of it. All that matters is Kara, the feel of her, sight of her, scent of her. Their eyes meet and he knows she's feeling it too, the godsdamned confusing connection between them, and not for the first time he wonders how they've managed to go without for so long. This desire, this need -- she's more than a drug. She's oxygen. He breathes her in.
Their movements grow increasingly urgent, almost violent, and he can't shake the sensation of possessing her, claiming her, and he knows it's a lie, that no one will ever be able to possess Kara Thrace, and yet still he imagines it, savors it. Pretends that she's finally his.
All too soon he can feel he's getting close and he dips his head, hesitating.
She must sense his uncertainty, because she says "Come inside me," and he almost does just from hearing her say it.
He looks her in the eye, making sure, knowing that he's not going to have much choice in the matter in a few seconds anyway.
Her gaze is steady. "Come on, Lee," she whispers.
And he obeys, letting himself go, groaning, spilling himself inside of her as his vision goes dark. He's dimly aware of her reaching down to stroke herself, trying to hasten her own release. When his body finally quiets somewhat he covers her hand with his own, increasing the pressure there, helping her along.
It seems to work. "Oh gods," she says, and squeezes her eyes shut tight. "Frak. Lee…Lee --" and she comes, tightening around him, her leg falling down as she does so that he slips mostly out of her. He watches her finish, her eyes closed, her mouth open, a pink flush spreading across her chest. He's mesmerized, he admits to himself, seeing the flesh and blood manifestation of the fantasy he's been carrying around with him for months now. He palms her breast, the skin so moist and hot from the shower, and whispers her name as she sucks in air, trying to come back to him.
"Hey," he says when she opens her eyes. They're both still breathing hard, Kara making noises in her throat as she grips his forearms. The shower pounds down on his back.
"Hey," she murmurs back. "How uh --" she takes in a deep breath -- "how's it going?"
He grins and pushes her wet hair out of her face. "It's going pretty good," he says, leaning in to kiss her neck. "How about you?"
"Yeah," she says, a hitch in her voice, running her hands up and down his arms. "I -- I missed you," she bites out. "I missed that."
He swallows the reflex response of And whose fault is that? and kisses her again instead. "Me too," he whispers against her lips.
She gives him a grin, and this time she's the one to pull them fully back under the shower spray, and they take turns running their hands over each other's bodies, caressing, cleansing, washing away the evidence of what they've done. As if that's possible, Lee thinks grimly. He's wanted this so badly for so long, but now that it's done -- he takes Kara's face in his hands and kisses her with everything he has, knowing it might be the last time for a while -- maybe forever. They shouldn't, can't, do this again.
Except now that they've started, how are they ever going to be able to stop? He feels suffocated, suddenly. He breaks the kiss and takes a step back, gasping for air.
"What happens now?" he croaks.
She turns off the shower and reaches for the towels she draped over the shower stall. "Now we dry off and go back to our racks," she says, handing him one towel and beginning to dry her hair with the other.
"That's not what I mean and you know it," he says. He holds the towel in front of him, waiting for her answer.
"I know," she says after a beat. She wraps the towel around herself before looking back up at him. "We'll just…see what happens, okay? Can we not overthink it?"
"That's easier said than done, Kara. We're not the only people affected by this." He finally starts drying himself off, rubbing the towel vigorously over his hair, his body, before wrapping it around his waist.
"I know that, Lee," she snaps. "Gods, can't you just turn your brain off for one second --" She doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence since he's pressed her back against the wall again, kissing her hard. Not thinking.
"One day at a time, okay?" she says against his lips. He breathes in her breath. Her voice is as beseeching as he's ever heard it. "That's all I can handle right now."
"For now," he relents, kissing her again helplessly, wondering how he's going to be able to go back to his wife -- his wife -- in just a few moments and not give himself away completely.
He finally breaks away from her, and they step apart, feeling almost awkward, suddenly. Kara clears her throat. Lee nods, then opens the stall door and steps out of the shower, the air chill against his skin.
He has a life to get back to and no idea how to do it.
He hears her footsteps behind him but doesn't look back, feeling a bit like Orpheus from childhood religion. Look back and you might lose everything.
If only looking forward were any easier.
===============
He manages to stay away from her for days, somehow, engaging in little more than necessary CAG/pilot interaction. He tries not to meet her eyes when she speaks to him. Maybe he has it under control, he thinks. Maybe he can do this.
One breath at a time.
"We leave at 0600 hours," Dee tells him when he gets back one night from working out pilot transport runs for the upcoming harvesting mission. She's going over reports of her own, last minute details his father asked her to put together for operations planetside.
"I heard," he tells her. "Just think, soon we'll have all the algae we can bear to eat."
"Can't wait," Dee says dryly.
He grins and opens his locker, then stops short at what he sees sitting on a shelf at eye level.
A yellow rubber duck.
How the hell did she…?
"Hey, want to come look these over with me?" Dee asks from behind him.
He grabs the rubber duck from the shelf, looks down at it. Smiles widely. Feels his breath quicken slightly, like he's ingested a drug.
"Lee?"
"Sure," he says. He sticks the duck behind his toiletry kit and with an effort wipes the smile from his face. He's already rearranging the scheduled pilot runs to the algae planet in his head.
He swallows the sudden surge of guilt, squares his shoulders and turns back to his wife. Breathing.
End.
Author: Dianora
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Lee/Kara
Written for: chicklet25
Prompt: Rubber duck
Optional prompt: A kiss, at least (oh, chicklet, if only you'd known who you were getting, heh)
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Through "The Eye of Jupiter." Story takes place in between "Unfinished Business" and "The Eye of Jupiter."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Distribution: Wherevs.
Author's Notes: This is...eh. It's done. Under the wire. *g* I'm a bit rusty, so please forgive me.
The first time it happens Lee is simply surprised it hasn't happened sooner.
It's inconceivable, in retrospect, that he's managed to keep from touching or kissing her before this, that he hasn't given in to what he worries in quieter moments is becoming obsession. The only thing stopping him was that they were never alone, never, ever alone, to the point where he started to wonder if Kara was doing it on purpose. He doesn't understand how she couldn't feel the force of his need, when he could so clearly feel hers, could practically smell it on her, imagined he could taste it if just given the opportunity.
So when it happens, when it finally happens, when they somehow end up alone together in the head -- no, he's deluding himself, he purposely scheduled the two of them on a late-night CAP, and they knew exactly what they were doing when they both decided to hit the showers afterward -- and one moment she's complaining about fruitless patrols and the next her mouth is on his, he wants to sink to his knees in relief almost as much as he wants to do exactly what he's doing, which is returning the kiss with everything he has, tongues clashing, mouths bruising, finally tasting her.
He cups her face with his hands as her fingers dig into his sides. She pushes up into him and he pushes back, mouths fused, bodies pressed together, breathing heavy in the silence of the room. Lee feels as if his head is muzzy from drink, his thinking blunted even as his senses are heightened. Not until Kara starts tugging at the edge of his tanks does a sliver of clarity break through.
"We can't," he says. She ignores him, of course, and continues to pull his shirt upward. "What if someone comes in--"
"Live a little, Lee," she says, looking him in the eye. "No one's gonna come in here this late. Besides, that's what makes it fun, right?"
"It's not just that," he says, but finds himself lifting the tanks up over his head anyway.
"Then what?"
She's tugging at the fastenings of his pants, now, which is making it even more difficult to concentrate. "Dee," he manages. "I can't--"
Kara pulls back, fixes him with her gaze, and it's not the first time he can't decipher what's going on behind her eyes. But when she takes off her own tanks and lets them fall to the deck, her eyes still on his, her meaning is clear enough. The muzziness takes hold of his head again; his need rises to the surface. "Kara --"
She cuts him off with a kiss, her mouth hot and insistent. He leans into her again despite himself, but she breaks away from him and grabs a couple towels off a shelf, then starts backing up in the direction of the showers.
"I'm going to, ah, wash up," she says, a cocky grin splitting her face. "You gonna join me or what?"
He swallows hard, then follows her. As if he has a choice at this point.
They shed the rest of their clothing on the way, almost giggling, now, like kids breaking the rules at recess. He follows her into a shower stall, closing the door behind them, then presses her up against the tile and they're kissing again, hands everywhere and breaths harsh and gasping. She smells strongly of sweat and faintly of booze and her nipples are hard beneath his fingertips and the throbbing of his cock is so intense he thinks he could die.
"Gods, I missed you," he whispers, an aching sigh between kisses.
She pulls back and her eyelids lower and she bites her lip and for a heart-stopping moment he wonders if she's having second thoughts, but instead she just reaches out and turns on the shower spray. The water rains down inches away from them, cold at first but quickly warming up. Kara raises her chin and pins him with a challenging stare, looking impossibly alluring with her heavy-lidded hazel eyes and endless expanse of ivory skin.
And he smiles, then, he can't help it, and she smiles back, and for a moment his heart feels lighter than it has in a year and a half. He feels the words he thought he had buried forever that morning on New Caprica bubble up inside him and he opens up his mouth to say them but Kara shakes her head almost imperceptibly and he understands that it's not the right time, that things are complicated enough now, and so he remains silent.
Instead he takes her by the hands and pulls her under the shower spray with him, but as he does his foot lands on something that gives beneath his heel and emits a loud squeak that makes them both start.
"The hell?" He looks down and sees a rubber ducky, of all the ridiculous frakked-up things, and it only adds to the surreality of the moment. He bends down to pick it up and shows it to Kara, who lets out a bark of a laugh.
"Bath toys, Lee? Didn't figure you for the type."
He wrinkles his brow. "Did someone have one of their kids in here or something? Hera's not old enough for showers, is she?" And isn't that against regulations? the tight-ass in the back of his mind adds silently.
"Maybe it's Gaeta's," she says with a snort, and they both laugh, but with a nervous undercurrent this time, as if suddenly realizing they have no right to be laughing in the midst of what they're doing, what vows they're breaking. He squeezes the duck hard, eliciting another squeak. It sounds like a warning klaxon.
"Lee," Kara says. He looks up at her and is surprised to see uncertainty -- a pleading, almost -- in her eyes.
Frak it. He tosses the duck over his shoulder and pulls Kara under the spray again, watching as the water soaks her hair and runs in rivulets over her breasts. He's entranced for a moment, but then blinks rapidly, slicks back his wet hair and bends his head to take one pale nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly, drinking in hot water. He runs his left hand up to her collarbone, her neck. Over her lips, and his thumb slips inside. She bites down gently as he continues lapping at her breast, closing his eyes against the spray.
Finally she tugs at him to come back up and he does, their mouths meeting once more, her hands reaching down to clutch at his ass, her fingers digging into his flesh. His fingers close over both of her nipples and she breaks the kiss, her head falling back in pleasure, water raining down on her forehead. She looks almost vulnerable, then, and it twists at his gut, reminds him that they shouldn't be here, that they're standing on the precipice of disaster and have no one but themselves to blame.
And then she moves her hand to his cock and he tells himself to shut the hell up for once.
He spins her around and drives her back against the tile on the opposite side, and she lets out a delighted yelp, then squeezes his cock firmly, thumbing the tip, the ridge of her ring pressing into his skin. He bites his lip hard, feeling like the top of his head is going to come off. Two can play this game. He slips a finger between her folds to find her clit, and is gratified when she lets out a gasp. Their faces are inches apart, their breath short, hot water pounding them from behind as their hands and fingers move competitively, each trying to bring the other closer to the edge.
Finally Kara lets out a frustrated sigh. "Godsdammit, Lee, are you gonna frak me or what," she says, but her eyes are sparkling. He grins and she lifts her leg to brace over it his, and with her hand still on him, helps him slowly push inside of her.
He swallows hard as his world pinholes to sensation. He takes a moment to place one hand against the tile, holding himself up, getting himself together, before he starts moving slowly within her. He moves his hands to her hips, and she matches his efforts as best she can, her breasts bobbing with her exertions, her face almost a grimace as her hips rock with him.
"Frak, just like that," Kara says, and he obeys, thrusting shallowly, but then she shifts her leg slightly and he slides in deeper, and they both gasp.
"Oh, gods, like that," she whispers.
"Yeah," he agrees, and pumps up into her more roughly now, almost wincing as Kara digs her nails into his shoulders. It's not the easiest position, but he fights through it, muscles straining and knees screaming as he helps her ride him. Faster, harder, and her high-pitched yelps are echoing off the tile, and she's so hot inside, and every strain is worth it.
He's making some fairly embarrassing sounds himself, he knows, and doesn't care, doesn't care about any of it. All that matters is Kara, the feel of her, sight of her, scent of her. Their eyes meet and he knows she's feeling it too, the godsdamned confusing connection between them, and not for the first time he wonders how they've managed to go without for so long. This desire, this need -- she's more than a drug. She's oxygen. He breathes her in.
Their movements grow increasingly urgent, almost violent, and he can't shake the sensation of possessing her, claiming her, and he knows it's a lie, that no one will ever be able to possess Kara Thrace, and yet still he imagines it, savors it. Pretends that she's finally his.
All too soon he can feel he's getting close and he dips his head, hesitating.
She must sense his uncertainty, because she says "Come inside me," and he almost does just from hearing her say it.
He looks her in the eye, making sure, knowing that he's not going to have much choice in the matter in a few seconds anyway.
Her gaze is steady. "Come on, Lee," she whispers.
And he obeys, letting himself go, groaning, spilling himself inside of her as his vision goes dark. He's dimly aware of her reaching down to stroke herself, trying to hasten her own release. When his body finally quiets somewhat he covers her hand with his own, increasing the pressure there, helping her along.
It seems to work. "Oh gods," she says, and squeezes her eyes shut tight. "Frak. Lee…Lee --" and she comes, tightening around him, her leg falling down as she does so that he slips mostly out of her. He watches her finish, her eyes closed, her mouth open, a pink flush spreading across her chest. He's mesmerized, he admits to himself, seeing the flesh and blood manifestation of the fantasy he's been carrying around with him for months now. He palms her breast, the skin so moist and hot from the shower, and whispers her name as she sucks in air, trying to come back to him.
"Hey," he says when she opens her eyes. They're both still breathing hard, Kara making noises in her throat as she grips his forearms. The shower pounds down on his back.
"Hey," she murmurs back. "How uh --" she takes in a deep breath -- "how's it going?"
He grins and pushes her wet hair out of her face. "It's going pretty good," he says, leaning in to kiss her neck. "How about you?"
"Yeah," she says, a hitch in her voice, running her hands up and down his arms. "I -- I missed you," she bites out. "I missed that."
He swallows the reflex response of And whose fault is that? and kisses her again instead. "Me too," he whispers against her lips.
She gives him a grin, and this time she's the one to pull them fully back under the shower spray, and they take turns running their hands over each other's bodies, caressing, cleansing, washing away the evidence of what they've done. As if that's possible, Lee thinks grimly. He's wanted this so badly for so long, but now that it's done -- he takes Kara's face in his hands and kisses her with everything he has, knowing it might be the last time for a while -- maybe forever. They shouldn't, can't, do this again.
Except now that they've started, how are they ever going to be able to stop? He feels suffocated, suddenly. He breaks the kiss and takes a step back, gasping for air.
"What happens now?" he croaks.
She turns off the shower and reaches for the towels she draped over the shower stall. "Now we dry off and go back to our racks," she says, handing him one towel and beginning to dry her hair with the other.
"That's not what I mean and you know it," he says. He holds the towel in front of him, waiting for her answer.
"I know," she says after a beat. She wraps the towel around herself before looking back up at him. "We'll just…see what happens, okay? Can we not overthink it?"
"That's easier said than done, Kara. We're not the only people affected by this." He finally starts drying himself off, rubbing the towel vigorously over his hair, his body, before wrapping it around his waist.
"I know that, Lee," she snaps. "Gods, can't you just turn your brain off for one second --" She doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence since he's pressed her back against the wall again, kissing her hard. Not thinking.
"One day at a time, okay?" she says against his lips. He breathes in her breath. Her voice is as beseeching as he's ever heard it. "That's all I can handle right now."
"For now," he relents, kissing her again helplessly, wondering how he's going to be able to go back to his wife -- his wife -- in just a few moments and not give himself away completely.
He finally breaks away from her, and they step apart, feeling almost awkward, suddenly. Kara clears her throat. Lee nods, then opens the stall door and steps out of the shower, the air chill against his skin.
He has a life to get back to and no idea how to do it.
He hears her footsteps behind him but doesn't look back, feeling a bit like Orpheus from childhood religion. Look back and you might lose everything.
If only looking forward were any easier.
===============
He manages to stay away from her for days, somehow, engaging in little more than necessary CAG/pilot interaction. He tries not to meet her eyes when she speaks to him. Maybe he has it under control, he thinks. Maybe he can do this.
One breath at a time.
"We leave at 0600 hours," Dee tells him when he gets back one night from working out pilot transport runs for the upcoming harvesting mission. She's going over reports of her own, last minute details his father asked her to put together for operations planetside.
"I heard," he tells her. "Just think, soon we'll have all the algae we can bear to eat."
"Can't wait," Dee says dryly.
He grins and opens his locker, then stops short at what he sees sitting on a shelf at eye level.
A yellow rubber duck.
How the hell did she…?
"Hey, want to come look these over with me?" Dee asks from behind him.
He grabs the rubber duck from the shelf, looks down at it. Smiles widely. Feels his breath quicken slightly, like he's ingested a drug.
"Lee?"
"Sure," he says. He sticks the duck behind his toiletry kit and with an effort wipes the smile from his face. He's already rearranging the scheduled pilot runs to the algae planet in his head.
He swallows the sudden surge of guilt, squares his shoulders and turns back to his wife. Breathing.
End.