Random ficlet theatre - BSG edition.
1. hecatesknickers is demanding prompts and hosting the hiatus-kicking Oh No! Sam Anders Has Lost His Clothes-a-thon. Which netted me random Kara/Sam:
"You know." Kara starts. But then she stops, because this is stupid (dear Gods, is it stupid) and letting him know is like giving him a victory. She's not really into giving anyone but herself victories.
Sam looks up from the flight suit he's carefully checking for damage, patch kit at his elbow. There's something a little too innocent in his eyes. "What?"
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing," he contradicts, setting the flight suit to the side and leaning forward, elbows on his bare knees. "What is it?"
The pose makes it even more obvious that he's naked, and Kara growls a little, and shifts, wishing she wasn't stuck on this duty with him. But someone had to check the flight suits, and she'd pissed the CAG off again. "That." She points in the general direction of his bare skin.
"What, this?" He stands, like he's completely at ease being fully-naked for every eye to see in the damned bunkroom. "It's distracting, huh?"
Kara swallows, wondering if there's time for a break. Maybe a really quick one. It would take the edge off.
A smirk twists his lips and he holds a hand out to her, "I was just going to check on the supply of glue in the nearest storage room. Wanna come with me?"
That is a horrible line. She doesn't care. Shoving the flight suit in her lap aside, Kara blesses the Gods for decreeing that some idiot would steal Sam's clothing and make it impossible for him to find a replacement for a while. "Yeah--" standing, she grabs his hand and pulls him with her.
Or he pulls her.
In the end, it's not like it matters which of them is in control.
2. pataka02 was saying that in Faith, Kara could have totally distracted Sam with...nefarious means. This isn't quite as, ah, explicit or distracty as I'd meant it to be.
Shit. Shit shit shit. Sam wasn't going to back down--
Kara wanted to reach for her gun. She needed to talk to the hybrid, they needed this alliance. And Sam was--ok, he had a point. Frak.
But her gun wouldn't do any good. A sudden idea occurred to her. It was crazy and ridiculous, but Kara had the sudden thought that it might work. She just needed to distract him, after all, to get his attention. To break that angry concentration of grief...
Shit.
Grabbing the bottom of her tanks, she yanked upwards. "Sam," she called, her voice sharp.
The edge made his head raise. Just enough that his eyes caught sight of her. They widened, and his concentration broke. "Kara?"
"We're not letting this go. But you can't kill her right now, Sam."
For just an instant, he looked like he'd resist, like he'd force the issue further. Then he swore and viciously shoved the Six to the floor, backing away, his gun never wavering. "You promise me, Kara. Or I will do this now."
Shit. She couldn't promise something like that. Not with the alliance falling apart in sections. She needed to see the hybrid--her eyes skirted to Natalie, and the other Six tilted her head, eyes cold. "C'mon, Sam," Kara licked her lips, "You know I can't promise anything. Not now." Don't do this.
"No. No, of course you can't." Sam snapped, jerking away from her, away from Athena, her gun still out and ready. With a curse, Sam kicked the raptor and then turned back. "Later, right?" His eyes full of anger, her stared at the Cylon, still crouched on the floor. "Later." The word is a promise of violence.
For just an instant, Kara shivered. Then she pulled her shirts back down. "Get the baseship ready to jump, Ensign."
3. Helo, on Sam Anders, spoilers for Faith.
Everyone forgets, Karl thinks, staring at Anders as Gaeta screams, shrieking with the pain in his leg. They forget that Anders survived two Cylon occupations, they forget that he didn't do it holed up in the mountains.
Not all of them know everything Karl does, of course. Sam's drunken ramblings, when he's half-bleeding and raw, about suicide bombers, terrorist tactics, lists of the dead, lists of the people Sam's killed who were dying of radiation poisoning and couldn't be saved--Kara's probably heard more (but Karl has never asked her).
Sam planned raids and recons, took the fight to the Cylons again and again. They never killed him, never caught him.
People think of Anders as Starbuck's latest acquisition, a pushover, an affable ball-player who's cute but just not that bright (face it, he's thought the same, even though he knows better).
Looking past the facade would require effort.
But right now, with that restless energy solid and resolved, there's a dangerous man standing in CIC and Karl doubts any of them will forget it again.
4. Kara/Leoben, Road Less Traveled spoilers
His hand is at her waist, but she doesn't notice (or maybe she does, and it doesn't matter, this is the blend of a hundred dreams and she can't tell anymore which way is real).
Leoben smells of sweat and blood, the paint just another smell that tangles and clogs at the back of her throat (hands tangled together, slick with sweat--).
"You can help me find Earth."
"Maybe. Kara, you--"
The pulse, confused and inconsistent as it was, pulled at her, tugged her away from him. Her hands had gone through her hair, tugging at the ends before she was back on her knees, fingers sorting through half-dead brushes until she found the one she needed. White paint, for him.
A sound slithered through her, before his hand touched hers, guiding it as he stepped closer.
"The hybrid can help you."
She is mired, she thinks; mired in dirt and dust, paint drying in her hair and on her skin. Surrounded by people who don't trust her (never trusted her to not be a Cylon).
Leoben (then) now feels like just another piece of the puzzle, just another wind in the cyclone.
He's a solid weight next to her, a presence that burrows under her skin until all she can think of is the paint. Paint is safe, paint isn't--
Earth. Earth, Earth is safe. Earth is why this is all happening. Earth makes it worth it all.
She's conscious that they're breathing in rhythm.
In. Out. In--
The hatch opens, on the edge of perception.
And the rhythm breaks.
"You know." Kara starts. But then she stops, because this is stupid (dear Gods, is it stupid) and letting him know is like giving him a victory. She's not really into giving anyone but herself victories.
Sam looks up from the flight suit he's carefully checking for damage, patch kit at his elbow. There's something a little too innocent in his eyes. "What?"
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing," he contradicts, setting the flight suit to the side and leaning forward, elbows on his bare knees. "What is it?"
The pose makes it even more obvious that he's naked, and Kara growls a little, and shifts, wishing she wasn't stuck on this duty with him. But someone had to check the flight suits, and she'd pissed the CAG off again. "That." She points in the general direction of his bare skin.
"What, this?" He stands, like he's completely at ease being fully-naked for every eye to see in the damned bunkroom. "It's distracting, huh?"
Kara swallows, wondering if there's time for a break. Maybe a really quick one. It would take the edge off.
A smirk twists his lips and he holds a hand out to her, "I was just going to check on the supply of glue in the nearest storage room. Wanna come with me?"
That is a horrible line. She doesn't care. Shoving the flight suit in her lap aside, Kara blesses the Gods for decreeing that some idiot would steal Sam's clothing and make it impossible for him to find a replacement for a while. "Yeah--" standing, she grabs his hand and pulls him with her.
Or he pulls her.
In the end, it's not like it matters which of them is in control.
2. pataka02 was saying that in Faith, Kara could have totally distracted Sam with...nefarious means. This isn't quite as, ah, explicit or distracty as I'd meant it to be.
Shit. Shit shit shit. Sam wasn't going to back down--
Kara wanted to reach for her gun. She needed to talk to the hybrid, they needed this alliance. And Sam was--ok, he had a point. Frak.
But her gun wouldn't do any good. A sudden idea occurred to her. It was crazy and ridiculous, but Kara had the sudden thought that it might work. She just needed to distract him, after all, to get his attention. To break that angry concentration of grief...
Shit.
Grabbing the bottom of her tanks, she yanked upwards. "Sam," she called, her voice sharp.
The edge made his head raise. Just enough that his eyes caught sight of her. They widened, and his concentration broke. "Kara?"
"We're not letting this go. But you can't kill her right now, Sam."
For just an instant, he looked like he'd resist, like he'd force the issue further. Then he swore and viciously shoved the Six to the floor, backing away, his gun never wavering. "You promise me, Kara. Or I will do this now."
Shit. She couldn't promise something like that. Not with the alliance falling apart in sections. She needed to see the hybrid--her eyes skirted to Natalie, and the other Six tilted her head, eyes cold. "C'mon, Sam," Kara licked her lips, "You know I can't promise anything. Not now." Don't do this.
"No. No, of course you can't." Sam snapped, jerking away from her, away from Athena, her gun still out and ready. With a curse, Sam kicked the raptor and then turned back. "Later, right?" His eyes full of anger, her stared at the Cylon, still crouched on the floor. "Later." The word is a promise of violence.
For just an instant, Kara shivered. Then she pulled her shirts back down. "Get the baseship ready to jump, Ensign."
3. Helo, on Sam Anders, spoilers for Faith.
Everyone forgets, Karl thinks, staring at Anders as Gaeta screams, shrieking with the pain in his leg. They forget that Anders survived two Cylon occupations, they forget that he didn't do it holed up in the mountains.
Not all of them know everything Karl does, of course. Sam's drunken ramblings, when he's half-bleeding and raw, about suicide bombers, terrorist tactics, lists of the dead, lists of the people Sam's killed who were dying of radiation poisoning and couldn't be saved--Kara's probably heard more (but Karl has never asked her).
Sam planned raids and recons, took the fight to the Cylons again and again. They never killed him, never caught him.
People think of Anders as Starbuck's latest acquisition, a pushover, an affable ball-player who's cute but just not that bright (face it, he's thought the same, even though he knows better).
Looking past the facade would require effort.
But right now, with that restless energy solid and resolved, there's a dangerous man standing in CIC and Karl doubts any of them will forget it again.
4. Kara/Leoben, Road Less Traveled spoilers
His hand is at her waist, but she doesn't notice (or maybe she does, and it doesn't matter, this is the blend of a hundred dreams and she can't tell anymore which way is real).
Leoben smells of sweat and blood, the paint just another smell that tangles and clogs at the back of her throat (hands tangled together, slick with sweat--).
"You can help me find Earth."
"Maybe. Kara, you--"
The pulse, confused and inconsistent as it was, pulled at her, tugged her away from him. Her hands had gone through her hair, tugging at the ends before she was back on her knees, fingers sorting through half-dead brushes until she found the one she needed. White paint, for him.
A sound slithered through her, before his hand touched hers, guiding it as he stepped closer.
"The hybrid can help you."
She is mired, she thinks; mired in dirt and dust, paint drying in her hair and on her skin. Surrounded by people who don't trust her (never trusted her to not be a Cylon).
Leoben (then) now feels like just another piece of the puzzle, just another wind in the cyclone.
He's a solid weight next to her, a presence that burrows under her skin until all she can think of is the paint. Paint is safe, paint isn't--
Earth. Earth, Earth is safe. Earth is why this is all happening. Earth makes it worth it all.
She's conscious that they're breathing in rhythm.
In. Out. In--
The hatch opens, on the edge of perception.
And the rhythm breaks.