challenge 68 'dust' Sam/Kara
Challenge: 'dust'
Title: Returning
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Carter
Rating: 18+
Word count: *coughs* 6 x 100 word drabbles (I refuse to name them all. that might be considered silly)
A/N: This contains spoilers for the first half of the second season of BSG. Also contains alusions to het.
When Kara got back from Caprica, Sam didn't ask. Not about Anders, not about the Cylon farm.
Things were mostly the same, though. Sex when they could, kisses and ribald commentary, and the occasional argument about who could fly better, otherwise.
Except that Kara stopped staying the night--if you could call sleeping for four hours tangled around each other 'staying the night'--and retreated to her own rack when they were done.
Sam tried not to feel rejected, but knew she wasn't succeeding.
One night, Sam couldn't take it anymore. "Kara."
The body leaving her rack paused.
"Don't go."
-
I made a promise, Kara wanted to say, but couldn't. Instead she looked at Sam, glad the angle of the light kept her face in shadow. "We need our sleep."
"Yeah." There was resignation in her voice. "I guess we do."
"Sam--" She stopped, uncertain what would come tumbling from her lips if she let herself say it.
"Talk to me." Please, was unspoken.
Kara swallowed.
The silence stretched too long, and Kara felt the universe shifting. As if it would leave her behind in a complicated maze if she didn't talk. "You heard about me and Sam Anders."
-
"Yes." Not about to show exactly how much that had bothered her (like it had stopped her from stepping back into Kara's bed two seconds after she'd come back), Sam reached out and touched Kara's hand.
"The farm?" As if the question meant nothing in the world.
Her stomach clenched, and Sam looked away, ashamed. "I didn't want to know." She finally admitted. Other lovers were mundane. A farm with the express purpose of exploiting human women for their reproductive potential was not.
Kara's hand turned, fingers sliding between Sam's. "They kept me drugged, most of the time."
-
The fingers between hers tensed, and Kara looked away. The revulsion she could feel in her own body was echoed in Sam's, probably. For a wild moment, she wondered how the other woman could bear to still touch her after knowing--after feeling the scars.
Scars she'd never asked about. "I'm not really sure what they did, Sam. So many things are blurred. There was a Cylon doctor, talking about babies and fertility."
"Doc checked you out." Sam's statement is hoarse. As if the answer is foregone. As if everything's all right.
"Yeah. Clean bill of health." Kara opened her hand.
-
Her emotions were jumbled, but there was one thing Sam wasn't letting go of. Not now she had her back. She moved faster than her reclined state gave evidence to, arms snaking around Kara's waist. "You're not leaving tonight."
"I'm not?"
"No." Sam pulled, dragging Kara back into the rack with her, arms like a vice.
Kara didn't resist, but she didn't exactly help.
Not until Sam elbowed her. "Thrace, my ass is going to be cold if you don't get under here."
"Can't have that." Moving slowly, Kara slid under the blankets and let Sam drag her closer.
"Nope."
-
Feeling as if she might never be warm again, Kara buried her face in Sam's hair and breathed.
"Hey."
"What?"
Sam's arms tightened. "Tell me about Sam Anders."
"You sure?"
"No."
But she didn't want to hear about the farms. Kara shivered.
"Doc says you're fine," Sam murmured. "You will be fine, Kara."
It was the same mantra Kara used on herself, sometimes. She half-laughed and got a mouthful of blonde hair for her troubles. "Damnit, Carter, your hair tastes like coffee."
Sounding like she was asleep, Sam mumbled, "Cally dumped coffee on me."
Kara would have to thank her.
-f-
Title: Returning
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Carter
Rating: 18+
Word count: *coughs* 6 x 100 word drabbles (I refuse to name them all. that might be considered silly)
A/N: This contains spoilers for the first half of the second season of BSG. Also contains alusions to het.
When Kara got back from Caprica, Sam didn't ask. Not about Anders, not about the Cylon farm.
Things were mostly the same, though. Sex when they could, kisses and ribald commentary, and the occasional argument about who could fly better, otherwise.
Except that Kara stopped staying the night--if you could call sleeping for four hours tangled around each other 'staying the night'--and retreated to her own rack when they were done.
Sam tried not to feel rejected, but knew she wasn't succeeding.
One night, Sam couldn't take it anymore. "Kara."
The body leaving her rack paused.
"Don't go."
-
I made a promise, Kara wanted to say, but couldn't. Instead she looked at Sam, glad the angle of the light kept her face in shadow. "We need our sleep."
"Yeah." There was resignation in her voice. "I guess we do."
"Sam--" She stopped, uncertain what would come tumbling from her lips if she let herself say it.
"Talk to me." Please, was unspoken.
Kara swallowed.
The silence stretched too long, and Kara felt the universe shifting. As if it would leave her behind in a complicated maze if she didn't talk. "You heard about me and Sam Anders."
-
"Yes." Not about to show exactly how much that had bothered her (like it had stopped her from stepping back into Kara's bed two seconds after she'd come back), Sam reached out and touched Kara's hand.
"The farm?" As if the question meant nothing in the world.
Her stomach clenched, and Sam looked away, ashamed. "I didn't want to know." She finally admitted. Other lovers were mundane. A farm with the express purpose of exploiting human women for their reproductive potential was not.
Kara's hand turned, fingers sliding between Sam's. "They kept me drugged, most of the time."
-
The fingers between hers tensed, and Kara looked away. The revulsion she could feel in her own body was echoed in Sam's, probably. For a wild moment, she wondered how the other woman could bear to still touch her after knowing--after feeling the scars.
Scars she'd never asked about. "I'm not really sure what they did, Sam. So many things are blurred. There was a Cylon doctor, talking about babies and fertility."
"Doc checked you out." Sam's statement is hoarse. As if the answer is foregone. As if everything's all right.
"Yeah. Clean bill of health." Kara opened her hand.
-
Her emotions were jumbled, but there was one thing Sam wasn't letting go of. Not now she had her back. She moved faster than her reclined state gave evidence to, arms snaking around Kara's waist. "You're not leaving tonight."
"I'm not?"
"No." Sam pulled, dragging Kara back into the rack with her, arms like a vice.
Kara didn't resist, but she didn't exactly help.
Not until Sam elbowed her. "Thrace, my ass is going to be cold if you don't get under here."
"Can't have that." Moving slowly, Kara slid under the blankets and let Sam drag her closer.
"Nope."
-
Feeling as if she might never be warm again, Kara buried her face in Sam's hair and breathed.
"Hey."
"What?"
Sam's arms tightened. "Tell me about Sam Anders."
"You sure?"
"No."
But she didn't want to hear about the farms. Kara shivered.
"Doc says you're fine," Sam murmured. "You will be fine, Kara."
It was the same mantra Kara used on herself, sometimes. She half-laughed and got a mouthful of blonde hair for her troubles. "Damnit, Carter, your hair tastes like coffee."
Sounding like she was asleep, Sam mumbled, "Cally dumped coffee on me."
Kara would have to thank her.
-f-