B7 fic, Missed Landing, AU, Cally/Travis. Warning: babyfic.
disclaimer: idek.
Length: like, 1000 words. just.
Rating: PG for kissing
Pairing: Cally/Travis
Warning: small child, cliches.
Notes: idek. I totally did not nail the landing on this one, but it is late and I should be in bed. This is very much related to that scary amount of Cally/Travis S4 AU fic where they blow things up together and now have a kid. I blame everything on redstarrobot
Missed Landing
by ALC Punk!
"I'd appreciate you not letting our daughter play with bullets." Cally was sorting through another bag of tricks, detonators mostly, when she said this to Travis.
He looked up from where he was organizing their small stock pile of weapons, and frowned. "I didn't allow her to do anything."
Raising one eyebrow, Cally finished tying off one bundle of wires. "And yet, there she is, one bullet in her mouth and another on its way." There were two Federation installations they were planning to hit that morning. Having to stop to have their daughter scanned for bullets would complicate matters.
"Zeta," Travis growled, reaching down to where the baby was happily gnawing on one of the bullets (standard issue for the planet below--something about magnetics and preserving the customs of the population). He found it a little difficult to remove them from her mouth and fingers, and ended up giving her an empty casing to play with while he removed the slightly more dangerous pieces of ammunition.
"That's not any better."
It was possible that Travis would have shot Cally, once. But they were beyond that. Too many years spent attacking the Federation and running. Even Zeta made it less likely he'd shoot her.
With another growl, he scooped Zeta up, swinging her upside-down and grabbing for the casing.
The small child shrieked in glee, arms waving in the air as he spun her a bit more, then plopped her down in the one area not occupied with weapons and returned to sorting.
After a few moments, Zeta realized there was nothing within reach to put in her mouth and began making discontented noises.
Cally finished her last bundle, and glanced at Travis, who was fidgeting, trying to pretend he still had more counting to do. She watched him for a moment, trying not to smile. Really. Smiling at Travis of all people. Then again, she really couldn't pretend she didn't appreciate him in some ways. The father of her child, after all.
That was an uncomfortable thought, even though the evidence was obvious--especially when she was trying to sleep and Zeta was equally certain that she needed attention now.
With a muttered oath, Travis moved and picked Zeta up again, dangling her over his shoulder as he stalked off to the flight deck, one of the bags of ammunition in his other hand.
Cally let the smile break out, and sent a wordless thought to Zeta. The baby wasn't very conversant, but her babbly silliness came back audibly and mentally.
"Your mother," said Travis, as he came back in, still scowling. "Is a menace."
Zeta waved her arms from her upside-down position and giggled as Travis bent over and grabbed the handle of two more bags.
Joining the procession, Cally hoisted her own bag and grabbed the last of Travis's. This was going to be a short hop, bang and grab. As Vila might once have said. She didn't think about Vila all that often these days. And she resolutely put the thought of him from her mind as Travis continued entertaining Zeta, leaving Cally to fly the ship the designated coordinates.
-=-
After the second target went up in a very satisfying explosion, Cally let Travis pilot them away from their location as she put Zeta down for a nap. The baby had been screaming rather angrily when they'd returned the second time, and she was almost beginning to regret leaving her behind. But it hadn't been one of those situations where they might need to cut and run, abandoning the ship, so Cally had felt safe in doing so.
Zeta fretted for several minutes until Cally sang her several lullabies--mixing the aural sounds with telepathy, soothing the baby's mind until her eyes closed. A faint snore rose, and Cally made a face at her child before heading back up to the flight deck.
"No pursuit." Travis reported, flicking switches and trying to look as though he were actually competent to fly the ship.
Cally supposed that he probably was, but never resisted the urge to mock his skills. She leaned against the back of the chair, looking over his shoulder and checking the dials and read-outs. "Amazingly, you haven't managed to crash us."
"I'm waiting for the next time," he suggested, tilting his head to give her a dry look.
Reaching around him, Cally toggled through two more navigational controls, shifting their flight path before she turned on the auto-pilot. "I'm sure you are."
Her tone probably warned him, but he still looked a little surprised when she swung around the chair and straddled him.
It was a little disconcerting to Cally to find herself attracted to the man who'd once ordered she be tortured. He'd changed though--or perhaps she had. They hadn't changed together, but somewhere between their first rage-filled, painful, couplings, and their child being born... she wasn't sure what they were to each other anymore.
She simply knew that they'd blown up things; their child was asleep. The Federation wasn't tracking them. They might even be safe, for the moment.
Travis's hands settled on her waist, and he leaned his head back, a sardonic look in his eye.
"I should have killed you, all those years ago," she murmured. Her fingers gripped the collar of his black tunic, and pulled, the side-fastenings opening up.
"As foreplay, that leaves a lot to be desired."
"Who said it was foreplay?"
His mouth twisted a little, but his hands tightened, pulling her forwards.
They kissed with a clash of teeth and dominance.
Cally thought of all the ways she could destroy him right that very instant, then ignored them in favor of kissing his mouth and neck. Her teeth scraped the skin at the corner. He tasted of dust and smoke, the leather of his tunic adding its own flavor to the mix.
With a growl, Travis pushed upwards from the chair, taking her with him.
Somewhere between the flight deck and their cabin, Cally stopped thinking at all. The sensors would alert them if they were scanned.
-f-
Length: like, 1000 words. just.
Rating: PG for kissing
Pairing: Cally/Travis
Warning: small child, cliches.
Notes: idek. I totally did not nail the landing on this one, but it is late and I should be in bed. This is very much related to that scary amount of Cally/Travis S4 AU fic where they blow things up together and now have a kid. I blame everything on redstarrobot
Missed Landing
by ALC Punk!
"I'd appreciate you not letting our daughter play with bullets." Cally was sorting through another bag of tricks, detonators mostly, when she said this to Travis.
He looked up from where he was organizing their small stock pile of weapons, and frowned. "I didn't allow her to do anything."
Raising one eyebrow, Cally finished tying off one bundle of wires. "And yet, there she is, one bullet in her mouth and another on its way." There were two Federation installations they were planning to hit that morning. Having to stop to have their daughter scanned for bullets would complicate matters.
"Zeta," Travis growled, reaching down to where the baby was happily gnawing on one of the bullets (standard issue for the planet below--something about magnetics and preserving the customs of the population). He found it a little difficult to remove them from her mouth and fingers, and ended up giving her an empty casing to play with while he removed the slightly more dangerous pieces of ammunition.
"That's not any better."
It was possible that Travis would have shot Cally, once. But they were beyond that. Too many years spent attacking the Federation and running. Even Zeta made it less likely he'd shoot her.
With another growl, he scooped Zeta up, swinging her upside-down and grabbing for the casing.
The small child shrieked in glee, arms waving in the air as he spun her a bit more, then plopped her down in the one area not occupied with weapons and returned to sorting.
After a few moments, Zeta realized there was nothing within reach to put in her mouth and began making discontented noises.
Cally finished her last bundle, and glanced at Travis, who was fidgeting, trying to pretend he still had more counting to do. She watched him for a moment, trying not to smile. Really. Smiling at Travis of all people. Then again, she really couldn't pretend she didn't appreciate him in some ways. The father of her child, after all.
That was an uncomfortable thought, even though the evidence was obvious--especially when she was trying to sleep and Zeta was equally certain that she needed attention now.
With a muttered oath, Travis moved and picked Zeta up again, dangling her over his shoulder as he stalked off to the flight deck, one of the bags of ammunition in his other hand.
Cally let the smile break out, and sent a wordless thought to Zeta. The baby wasn't very conversant, but her babbly silliness came back audibly and mentally.
"Your mother," said Travis, as he came back in, still scowling. "Is a menace."
Zeta waved her arms from her upside-down position and giggled as Travis bent over and grabbed the handle of two more bags.
Joining the procession, Cally hoisted her own bag and grabbed the last of Travis's. This was going to be a short hop, bang and grab. As Vila might once have said. She didn't think about Vila all that often these days. And she resolutely put the thought of him from her mind as Travis continued entertaining Zeta, leaving Cally to fly the ship the designated coordinates.
-=-
After the second target went up in a very satisfying explosion, Cally let Travis pilot them away from their location as she put Zeta down for a nap. The baby had been screaming rather angrily when they'd returned the second time, and she was almost beginning to regret leaving her behind. But it hadn't been one of those situations where they might need to cut and run, abandoning the ship, so Cally had felt safe in doing so.
Zeta fretted for several minutes until Cally sang her several lullabies--mixing the aural sounds with telepathy, soothing the baby's mind until her eyes closed. A faint snore rose, and Cally made a face at her child before heading back up to the flight deck.
"No pursuit." Travis reported, flicking switches and trying to look as though he were actually competent to fly the ship.
Cally supposed that he probably was, but never resisted the urge to mock his skills. She leaned against the back of the chair, looking over his shoulder and checking the dials and read-outs. "Amazingly, you haven't managed to crash us."
"I'm waiting for the next time," he suggested, tilting his head to give her a dry look.
Reaching around him, Cally toggled through two more navigational controls, shifting their flight path before she turned on the auto-pilot. "I'm sure you are."
Her tone probably warned him, but he still looked a little surprised when she swung around the chair and straddled him.
It was a little disconcerting to Cally to find herself attracted to the man who'd once ordered she be tortured. He'd changed though--or perhaps she had. They hadn't changed together, but somewhere between their first rage-filled, painful, couplings, and their child being born... she wasn't sure what they were to each other anymore.
She simply knew that they'd blown up things; their child was asleep. The Federation wasn't tracking them. They might even be safe, for the moment.
Travis's hands settled on her waist, and he leaned his head back, a sardonic look in his eye.
"I should have killed you, all those years ago," she murmured. Her fingers gripped the collar of his black tunic, and pulled, the side-fastenings opening up.
"As foreplay, that leaves a lot to be desired."
"Who said it was foreplay?"
His mouth twisted a little, but his hands tightened, pulling her forwards.
They kissed with a clash of teeth and dominance.
Cally thought of all the ways she could destroy him right that very instant, then ignored them in favor of kissing his mouth and neck. Her teeth scraped the skin at the corner. He tasted of dust and smoke, the leather of his tunic adding its own flavor to the mix.
With a growl, Travis pushed upwards from the chair, taking her with him.
Somewhere between the flight deck and their cabin, Cally stopped thinking at all. The sensors would alert them if they were scanned.
-f-