I've waited here for you
Nothing to see here. Just a little birthday Kara/Sam fluff for my favorite in_the_blue.
"Sam."
There's no answer.
"Sam," she repeats, raising her voice out of its hush.
Still nothing.
"Sam, it is frakking cold out here and the tent flap is pinned or something."
Okay. All right. You know what? This is what happens when she flies a supply run down here after 1500, Galactica time.
"All right, Anders. You and your New Caprica hours leave me no choice." Moving to one side of the entrance, she drops to her knees and starts to play with the bottom edge of the tent wall, lifting it, testing to see how much it'll give and if she can easily crawl in under it.
She's just thinking that it can be done when she hears a quiet laugh that makes her look up.
Sam's standing there in a pair of dark sweats, smirking at her while one hand rubs sleep out of his eyes. "You know, if you'd tried to get into my condo on Caprica I'd have had to consider you a stalker."
She smiles, picking herself up off the ground. "So what do you consider me now?"
"Wearing too many clothes." He grins at her.
Leering back, she raises her eyebrows and then looks down at her flight suit. "Accurate." If she's chilled out here, he must be freezing his ass off. "You gonna invite me in? We can share some body heat."
***
Wrapped in Sam's sleeping bag with him, she finally feels like they've generated enough heat to coast through the rest of the night comfortably.
"You can wake me up in the middle of the night any time, baby." His hands knead her back.
"Mm." Burrowing her face between his neck and his shoulder, she buries her appreciation there. She always thought she ran warm, but then she met Sam. He's like her own personal heater. "Best wake-up call available."
"Best wake-up call period."
"Oh," she huffs out, sing-song. "You really like me, don't you. There must be so many broken-hearted C-Bucs fans around here."
"Oh yeah. They've been breaking down my door here." He skims his hands down her sides, lets them rest on the rise of her hips. "None of them had tried to sneak in under the tent wall yet, though."
"Just thinking outside the box."
"Dangerously smart," he laughs against her ear.
She feels herself grin. "It'll take more than a tent to keep me from a hot pyramid player."
"I know. It takes more than a planet occupied by Cylons."
"Yeah, you're not the only one who does charity work." When she shuts him up, it's with a kiss.
***
"Where the frak did you get these?" A whole unopened package of sandwich cookies: she doesn't understand how they've gone untouched so long.
"Part of my payment for helping a guy from the Zephyr move all his stuff off the ship."
"And he just happened to have these lying around."
Sam shrugs almost helplessly. "Didn't ask. I just accepted everything he was willing to give."
"We don't even have any frakking milk," she complains as she tears the package open. "These cookies are made for dunking, Sam."
It makes him laugh. Moving over to the corner of the tent, he rummages through a box. "I think you're out of luck, Kara."
Her mouth twists disapprovingly as she raises a cookie to her mouth.
"What I can offer is half a bottle of ambrosia." As if tempting her, he holds up a bottle.
She gestures with one hand. "Bring it."
His grin outlasts the skepticism in his eyes, and obliging, he walks back over to sit beside her, ambrosia under his arm. He grabs his sole cup, fills it about halfway, and hands it over. "You're not really--"
She is, really. Once she has the cup, she dips her cookie into the ambrosia. "What? I like ambrosia and I like cookies." She smiles as he laughs at her, but she waits for the cookie to get soggy before she raises it out and takes a bite. The ambrosia-soaked mouthful starts melting away the second it hits her tongue.
"What's the verdict?"
"Not bad at all," she answers, chewing the rest. "Not as amazing as you'd hope, but not bad." She holds out the package. "You try, Sammy."
Seems he can't refuse.
***
"You should stay."
Standing on the wing of the Raptor, she grins down at him. "That'll go over well with the old man."
"I'll cover for you." He flashes her a grin that's probably hooked plenty of people.
She's not immune. She's so not immune that she steps to the very edge of the wing and rests her hands on his shoulders. "I'll be back. If the toasters couldn't keep me away, a seven-minute Raptor trip won't."
"It better not."
Smirking at him, she dips her head like kissing him is an imminent danger. "I had no idea you were so frakking demanding."
"Hey," he laughs, his grin wider by the second, "anything to get into the pants of some hot young thing."
Having her words turned back on her makes her laugh so hard her shoulders shake, but she doesn't have a chance to say anything before his mouth zeroes in on hers.
"Next time," he tells her, voice low, "you should show up earlier. We'll do dinner."
Pulling back just enough to aim a smile at him, she scrunches up her nose. "Yeah, but you loved it when I woke you up last night."
"Trust me, baby: you can wake me up in the middle of the night any time you want to."
"Sam."
There's no answer.
"Sam," she repeats, raising her voice out of its hush.
Still nothing.
"Sam, it is frakking cold out here and the tent flap is pinned or something."
Okay. All right. You know what? This is what happens when she flies a supply run down here after 1500, Galactica time.
"All right, Anders. You and your New Caprica hours leave me no choice." Moving to one side of the entrance, she drops to her knees and starts to play with the bottom edge of the tent wall, lifting it, testing to see how much it'll give and if she can easily crawl in under it.
She's just thinking that it can be done when she hears a quiet laugh that makes her look up.
Sam's standing there in a pair of dark sweats, smirking at her while one hand rubs sleep out of his eyes. "You know, if you'd tried to get into my condo on Caprica I'd have had to consider you a stalker."
She smiles, picking herself up off the ground. "So what do you consider me now?"
"Wearing too many clothes." He grins at her.
Leering back, she raises her eyebrows and then looks down at her flight suit. "Accurate." If she's chilled out here, he must be freezing his ass off. "You gonna invite me in? We can share some body heat."
***
Wrapped in Sam's sleeping bag with him, she finally feels like they've generated enough heat to coast through the rest of the night comfortably.
"You can wake me up in the middle of the night any time, baby." His hands knead her back.
"Mm." Burrowing her face between his neck and his shoulder, she buries her appreciation there. She always thought she ran warm, but then she met Sam. He's like her own personal heater. "Best wake-up call available."
"Best wake-up call period."
"Oh," she huffs out, sing-song. "You really like me, don't you. There must be so many broken-hearted C-Bucs fans around here."
"Oh yeah. They've been breaking down my door here." He skims his hands down her sides, lets them rest on the rise of her hips. "None of them had tried to sneak in under the tent wall yet, though."
"Just thinking outside the box."
"Dangerously smart," he laughs against her ear.
She feels herself grin. "It'll take more than a tent to keep me from a hot pyramid player."
"I know. It takes more than a planet occupied by Cylons."
"Yeah, you're not the only one who does charity work." When she shuts him up, it's with a kiss.
***
"Where the frak did you get these?" A whole unopened package of sandwich cookies: she doesn't understand how they've gone untouched so long.
"Part of my payment for helping a guy from the Zephyr move all his stuff off the ship."
"And he just happened to have these lying around."
Sam shrugs almost helplessly. "Didn't ask. I just accepted everything he was willing to give."
"We don't even have any frakking milk," she complains as she tears the package open. "These cookies are made for dunking, Sam."
It makes him laugh. Moving over to the corner of the tent, he rummages through a box. "I think you're out of luck, Kara."
Her mouth twists disapprovingly as she raises a cookie to her mouth.
"What I can offer is half a bottle of ambrosia." As if tempting her, he holds up a bottle.
She gestures with one hand. "Bring it."
His grin outlasts the skepticism in his eyes, and obliging, he walks back over to sit beside her, ambrosia under his arm. He grabs his sole cup, fills it about halfway, and hands it over. "You're not really--"
She is, really. Once she has the cup, she dips her cookie into the ambrosia. "What? I like ambrosia and I like cookies." She smiles as he laughs at her, but she waits for the cookie to get soggy before she raises it out and takes a bite. The ambrosia-soaked mouthful starts melting away the second it hits her tongue.
"What's the verdict?"
"Not bad at all," she answers, chewing the rest. "Not as amazing as you'd hope, but not bad." She holds out the package. "You try, Sammy."
Seems he can't refuse.
***
"You should stay."
Standing on the wing of the Raptor, she grins down at him. "That'll go over well with the old man."
"I'll cover for you." He flashes her a grin that's probably hooked plenty of people.
She's not immune. She's so not immune that she steps to the very edge of the wing and rests her hands on his shoulders. "I'll be back. If the toasters couldn't keep me away, a seven-minute Raptor trip won't."
"It better not."
Smirking at him, she dips her head like kissing him is an imminent danger. "I had no idea you were so frakking demanding."
"Hey," he laughs, his grin wider by the second, "anything to get into the pants of some hot young thing."
Having her words turned back on her makes her laugh so hard her shoulders shake, but she doesn't have a chance to say anything before his mouth zeroes in on hers.
"Next time," he tells her, voice low, "you should show up earlier. We'll do dinner."
Pulling back just enough to aim a smile at him, she scrunches up her nose. "Yeah, but you loved it when I woke you up last night."
"Trust me, baby: you can wake me up in the middle of the night any time you want to."