french toast and coffee for everyone
Title: A Morning After
Characters: Sam Anders, Kara Thrace, Karl Agathon
Time Period: 2024 (well into a good life in Perkinston for Kara and Sam, before Helo retired)
Summary: They'd never admit they were in a plural marriage, but they were.
Karl woke the next morning with a crick in his neck. He'd been sleeping curled up around--who? He opened his eyes and recognized the dirty blond hair. He took a deep breath and smelled Kara's familiar scent. You got lonely and called Kara and Sam last night, and now you're in their bed, his mind announced.
Kara was still soundly asleep, her mouth slightly open as she snored gently. (She'd never admit she snored, but he and Sam both knew she did, and thought it was funny.) He delicately tugged his hand out from her grasp. Sitting up, he looked for Sam, but that side of the bed was empty. Karl had been spooning Kara as she faced toward her husband in slumber.
Creakily, Karl got out of the bed and rolled his eyes at his body's reaction to the proximity of a naked woman. He'd have a quick shower and take care of that before he left. Another scent wafted towards him--coffee, combined with the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Sam must be making breakfast again. Lucky Kara, getting breakfast made for her instead of from a box, he thought. He wasn't jealous; that wasn't his style. He preferred to take care of people. Still, he wouldn't turn down Sam's pancakes or whatever it was his friend was putting together.
He tugged his boxers on, careful to avoid the fresh rug burn on his knees, then looked down in dismay when the clothing felt funny. Oh frak, I'm wearing Sam's boxers. That's a new one. Good thing Kara's still asleep, his mind chattered.
As he shucked them hastily, he heard friendly laughter from the doorway. "Helo, I know you like the C-Bucs and all, but you could just ask for my boxers if you want 'em," said Sam cheerfully, striding in with a loaded breakfast tray.
Karl rolled his eyes and rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Sorry, man, I just love you that much."
While they were teasing each other, Kara woke up, stretching and grunting as she discovered herself alone in bed. Her sleepy face brightened when she saw them both there and awake. Her hair stuck up from her head at crazy angles, making her look wild. "Sammy! Karl! What'd you bring me, guys?" Her voice was raspy.
Sam flourished the tray with pride. "French toast and coffee for everyone!"
Kara beamed and sat up. "You know what I like." She leered at her husband, then her best friend. "So do you, hot stuff. You're gonna have interesting bruises later."
Characters: Sam Anders, Kara Thrace, Karl Agathon
Time Period: 2024 (well into a good life in Perkinston for Kara and Sam, before Helo retired)
Summary: They'd never admit they were in a plural marriage, but they were.
Karl woke the next morning with a crick in his neck. He'd been sleeping curled up around--who? He opened his eyes and recognized the dirty blond hair. He took a deep breath and smelled Kara's familiar scent. You got lonely and called Kara and Sam last night, and now you're in their bed, his mind announced.
Kara was still soundly asleep, her mouth slightly open as she snored gently. (She'd never admit she snored, but he and Sam both knew she did, and thought it was funny.) He delicately tugged his hand out from her grasp. Sitting up, he looked for Sam, but that side of the bed was empty. Karl had been spooning Kara as she faced toward her husband in slumber.
Creakily, Karl got out of the bed and rolled his eyes at his body's reaction to the proximity of a naked woman. He'd have a quick shower and take care of that before he left. Another scent wafted towards him--coffee, combined with the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Sam must be making breakfast again. Lucky Kara, getting breakfast made for her instead of from a box, he thought. He wasn't jealous; that wasn't his style. He preferred to take care of people. Still, he wouldn't turn down Sam's pancakes or whatever it was his friend was putting together.
He tugged his boxers on, careful to avoid the fresh rug burn on his knees, then looked down in dismay when the clothing felt funny. Oh frak, I'm wearing Sam's boxers. That's a new one. Good thing Kara's still asleep, his mind chattered.
As he shucked them hastily, he heard friendly laughter from the doorway. "Helo, I know you like the C-Bucs and all, but you could just ask for my boxers if you want 'em," said Sam cheerfully, striding in with a loaded breakfast tray.
Karl rolled his eyes and rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Sorry, man, I just love you that much."
While they were teasing each other, Kara woke up, stretching and grunting as she discovered herself alone in bed. Her sleepy face brightened when she saw them both there and awake. Her hair stuck up from her head at crazy angles, making her look wild. "Sammy! Karl! What'd you bring me, guys?" Her voice was raspy.
Sam flourished the tray with pride. "French toast and coffee for everyone!"
Kara beamed and sat up. "You know what I like." She leered at her husband, then her best friend. "So do you, hot stuff. You're gonna have interesting bruises later."