ficlet: BSG, Yet Another Incident in Interspecies Relations
disclaimer: not mine
rating: well, it was going to be PG. Now it's way closer to R. language, sexual situations
pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
set: webisode 1, post-Revelations.
notes: follows palmetto's Incidents in Interspecies Relations, though it, ah, branches.
Yet Another Incident in Interspecies Relations
by ALC Punk!
"Frakking pilots," Kara growled, stalking from the rec room before she gave into the urge to throw down with all of them. It really wasn't something that would be befitting a CAG, after all.
Stomping on the deck only sort of helped. What she really needed was something (or someone) to punch, some time in the gym, or a nice gigantic bonfire of the mountain of paperwork she had yet to complete. Some of it was done, keeping pilot rosters and rotations up to date. But the rest was her current headache and Colonel Tigh's pet beef every frakking morning meeting.
And maybe a little of it was the way things were still uncertain with people she knew and... cared about. A lot. If it was even real.
"Lookin' for trouble, Captain?"
The lazy question was barely out of Sam Anders' mouth before Kara slammed into him, knocking him back a step. "Don't know, Ensign, you lookin' to be trouble?" Her husband was a good target. They hadn't said much since she'd found out he wasn't human. But then, they'd never really said much, anyway, so Kara figured that maybe they were sort of coming out on top of things again.
Didn't matter. He still made her insides twitch, and suddenly, she wasn't thinking about punching things, she was thinking about dragging his flight suit open and dragging her hands down his body. Hell, he was probably vibrating, coming off flight-line, all sweaty and half-buzzed.
He grabbed for her hips, steadying both of them and trying to get some distance. Not that he minded his wife in his personal space, but he was still uncertain where they really stood (maybe they'd never really know). He also wasn't too certain how great he smelled, having just gotten off a double-length CAP.
"Am I being trouble, Captain?" he drawled, aware that if he was trying to shut down the situation, he wasn't really going about it the right way.
There was something about the way a pilot smelled, something that by-passed Kara's good sense and slammed directly into her gut. She leaned into him, hands tugging at the front of his flight suit, "Depends on what you do in the next thirty seconds, Ensign."
Obviously, his priorities were about to change. Sam tightened his grip on her hips and moved, dragging her with him to the half-open hatch that he knew happened to lead into one of the slightly-empty storage lockers. Kara made an impatient noise as they both stepped over the lip and shoved at him.
"Not fast enough--" he started to ask before she crashed into him again, knocking him back against a shelf. He grunted from the impact and grabbed for her shoulders as he ducked to kiss her mouth.
Kara elbowed him and twisted away, panting a little as she slammed into the shelf on the other side of the room, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
"Ow," Sam said, staying right where he was.
Something shifted in Kara's stance and then she snickered. "Sure you can't turn the pain off, Sammy?"
He rolled his eyes and unzipped his flight suit the rest of the way, stepping forward and tugging it off his shoulders. "If you're done shoving at me, I need to go find a shower."
Kara moved, suddenly back up against him, mouth hot on his collarbone as she tugged his shirts down, tongue flicking against his skin. "Not done," she managed to say as he let out a cross between a moan of appreciation and a snort of exasperation.
Sometimes, he wasn't sure which way was up with her.
Kara could have told him that it was never up, down, left or right with her. That it was all a frakking spiral that never seemed to end as it turned back on itself. But that wasn't the sort of conversation she wanted to have right then.
This time, he got his hands under her shirts before she even considered objecting again.
It wasn't that she didn't like him or want him--Sam was pretty sure that Kara would never have seen the need to fake it, let alone marry him if his style of sexual conduct bored her. But there were things they hadn't said, and things they had. And maybe, just maybe, she was as unsure as he was. Under her bravado.
Sam decided, when she was dragging her fingers down his stomach, leaving red marks that might have been scrapes if her nails were longer, that he wasn't sure if he cared.
He got his hands on her hips, jerking her closer, trapping her hands between them and making her curse.
Fight or frak--Kara was predictable, in some respects, and Sam managed not to get his hands tangled in her bra when she decided he wasn't going fast enough for her.
But it wasn't until they were wrapped around each other, all thought gone, his flight suit still around his ankles and one of her boots digging into his naked ass that all hell broke loose.
-f
rating: well, it was going to be PG. Now it's way closer to R. language, sexual situations
pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
set: webisode 1, post-Revelations.
notes: follows palmetto's Incidents in Interspecies Relations, though it, ah, branches.
Yet Another Incident in Interspecies Relations
by ALC Punk!
"Frakking pilots," Kara growled, stalking from the rec room before she gave into the urge to throw down with all of them. It really wasn't something that would be befitting a CAG, after all.
Stomping on the deck only sort of helped. What she really needed was something (or someone) to punch, some time in the gym, or a nice gigantic bonfire of the mountain of paperwork she had yet to complete. Some of it was done, keeping pilot rosters and rotations up to date. But the rest was her current headache and Colonel Tigh's pet beef every frakking morning meeting.
And maybe a little of it was the way things were still uncertain with people she knew and... cared about. A lot. If it was even real.
"Lookin' for trouble, Captain?"
The lazy question was barely out of Sam Anders' mouth before Kara slammed into him, knocking him back a step. "Don't know, Ensign, you lookin' to be trouble?" Her husband was a good target. They hadn't said much since she'd found out he wasn't human. But then, they'd never really said much, anyway, so Kara figured that maybe they were sort of coming out on top of things again.
Didn't matter. He still made her insides twitch, and suddenly, she wasn't thinking about punching things, she was thinking about dragging his flight suit open and dragging her hands down his body. Hell, he was probably vibrating, coming off flight-line, all sweaty and half-buzzed.
He grabbed for her hips, steadying both of them and trying to get some distance. Not that he minded his wife in his personal space, but he was still uncertain where they really stood (maybe they'd never really know). He also wasn't too certain how great he smelled, having just gotten off a double-length CAP.
"Am I being trouble, Captain?" he drawled, aware that if he was trying to shut down the situation, he wasn't really going about it the right way.
There was something about the way a pilot smelled, something that by-passed Kara's good sense and slammed directly into her gut. She leaned into him, hands tugging at the front of his flight suit, "Depends on what you do in the next thirty seconds, Ensign."
Obviously, his priorities were about to change. Sam tightened his grip on her hips and moved, dragging her with him to the half-open hatch that he knew happened to lead into one of the slightly-empty storage lockers. Kara made an impatient noise as they both stepped over the lip and shoved at him.
"Not fast enough--" he started to ask before she crashed into him again, knocking him back against a shelf. He grunted from the impact and grabbed for her shoulders as he ducked to kiss her mouth.
Kara elbowed him and twisted away, panting a little as she slammed into the shelf on the other side of the room, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
"Ow," Sam said, staying right where he was.
Something shifted in Kara's stance and then she snickered. "Sure you can't turn the pain off, Sammy?"
He rolled his eyes and unzipped his flight suit the rest of the way, stepping forward and tugging it off his shoulders. "If you're done shoving at me, I need to go find a shower."
Kara moved, suddenly back up against him, mouth hot on his collarbone as she tugged his shirts down, tongue flicking against his skin. "Not done," she managed to say as he let out a cross between a moan of appreciation and a snort of exasperation.
Sometimes, he wasn't sure which way was up with her.
Kara could have told him that it was never up, down, left or right with her. That it was all a frakking spiral that never seemed to end as it turned back on itself. But that wasn't the sort of conversation she wanted to have right then.
This time, he got his hands under her shirts before she even considered objecting again.
It wasn't that she didn't like him or want him--Sam was pretty sure that Kara would never have seen the need to fake it, let alone marry him if his style of sexual conduct bored her. But there were things they hadn't said, and things they had. And maybe, just maybe, she was as unsure as he was. Under her bravado.
Sam decided, when she was dragging her fingers down his stomach, leaving red marks that might have been scrapes if her nails were longer, that he wasn't sure if he cared.
He got his hands on her hips, jerking her closer, trapping her hands between them and making her curse.
Fight or frak--Kara was predictable, in some respects, and Sam managed not to get his hands tangled in her bra when she decided he wasn't going fast enough for her.
But it wasn't until they were wrapped around each other, all thought gone, his flight suit still around his ankles and one of her boots digging into his naked ass that all hell broke loose.
-f