FIC: Lifeline (BSG, Kara/Lee, R)
Title: Lifeline
Author: olaf47
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through the end of the series
Summary: “Lee,” she says and she sounds too much like the Kara he remembers, admonishing him for the stick up his ass. “I’ve been a frakking angel since I came back. You saw my Viper explode but you didn’t seem to care when I arrived back on your wing. What’s your problem with it now?”
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The words are.
A/N: Written for bsg_pornbattle. Prompts: Kara/Lee, always come back, the afterlife is so boring, no air
“The afterlife is so boring.”
Lee spins around and levels his gun in the direction of the voice.
Kara is sitting across the fire from him, leaning against a rock and looking at the stars. She glances at him and smirks.
“Gonna shoot me, Apollo?”
“What the frak?” he breathes, doesn’t put his gun down. “Kara? Is it really y-what are you-what you doing here?”
She shrugs, tilts her head back to the stars. “I told you, the afterlife is boring.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Kara? This doesn’t-this doesn’t make sense. You can’t be here.”
She doesn’t reply. He eyes her warily. His gun’s at his side now, but he’s almost tempted to shoot her just to see what happens. She can’t be here, she’s not real, so what would happen if he just shot her? He sighs. Obviously he'd never shoot Kara, even if she is just a figment of his imagination.
“I need some sleep.” He runs a hand through his hair and heads to his tent, one glance back at her.
“C’mon, Leland.”
“Frak!”
She’s in his frakking tent now, and he knows she’s not real, knows there was no way for her to get from the fire to his tent like that. He closes his eyes tight.
“Lee,” she says and she sounds too much like the Kara he remembers, admonishing him for the stick up his ass. “I’ve been a frakking angel since I came back. You saw my Viper explode but you didn’t seem to care when I arrived back on your wing. What’s your problem with it now?”
“You’re not here. You’re not real.”
“I am. I might not be human, but I’m here and I’m real.”
He closes his eyes again and when he opens them, she’s naked.
“Frakking gods, Kara! Put your clothes back on.”
She grins, a lazy, arrogant grin, and quirks an eyebrow at him. “See my clothes around here?”
And he thought she was tricky when she was alive. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and throws it at her.
“There you go, Apollo, stripping down. We’re finally on the same page.”
He ignores her. “Put that on.”
She laughs at him. Gods, he wants to hit her, frakking with his mind like this.
But he wants to frak her too, because she’s Kara and she’s naked and he’s always wanted her. He’s not sure he cares if she’s real. She smiles like she knows what he’s thinking. He wonders if she does, wonders what happens to you when you die.
“C’mon, Apollo. It’s you and me, no spouses or fiancés or brothers or Cylons.”
His body’s responding the way she wants it to, a stirring in his center, but the fire she lights in him isn’t as strong as the ache. She’s a magnet and his bones are iron, no matter how hard he tries to hold himself back she pulls him. There’s never been anything as strong as her gravity.
He swallows hard and finally looks at her. It’s dark, only the cast of the campfire. His shadow falls over her, the curves of its edges melting into her curves. She’s beautiful, always beautiful. Her hair’s shorter than when she disappeared, the length he likes it and it’s all just a fantasy.
“Am I really so lonely I dreamed you up?”
She actually looks hurt by that. “Gods, Lee, you didn’t dream me up.”
She reaches for his shirt to put it on but he crosses the tent, takes her hand, and stops her. She blinks at him.
“You’re really here?” It’s no more than a breath.
“I always come back to you.”
He moves then, because he can’t not. Because she’s Kara and she’s naked and he’s always wanted her.
She smiles before his lips catch hers, keeps smiling though the kiss; he can feel it. He can’t breathe, doesn’t care, doesn’t want to. Wants nothing more than to stay pressed against her for eternity. Her breasts are tight to his chest but he can still feel her heartbeat. It feels alive.
When he’s going dizzy from lack of oxygen, she nips at his lips and ducks away, lets him gasp as she bites her way along his jaw, to his earlobe, that she worries between teeth covered by lips. It hurts. He wonders if ears can bruise.
He wants to bruise everywhere, anything to remember her in the morning. She moves to the crevice above his collarbone and he is going to bruise there, her mouth calling the blood to the surface. He runs his hands through her hair. Pulls her back to his lips.
“Gods, Kara.”
She’s still half-smiling, like she’s so happy she can’t stop herself, and it all feels real and he tries not to think about her, about them, about everything that actually happened.
She gets his pants off without him noticing; he wonders if that’s a skill the afterlife gave her, laughs at the thought. He laughs and she twists him underneath her, naked now. The sleeping bag slips beneath their slick skin but he can only feel her.
She’s there and she must be real because she’s around him, tight and it’s like he remembers, better than he remembers. There’s nothing but them now. The fire is dying and it should be too dark to see her but she looks like exactly what she is-the flicker of the flames glints off her hair, lighting it like a halo and she’s always been his angel.
He thrusts into her and she half-sighs his name. Their wet heat welds them together. He can’t stop canting his hips to her, sits up the best he can to latch his mouth to any skin he can reach. She holds his head to her chest and says his name again.
There’s no oxygen left in the tent, consumed by their fire and gasps. He’s going to asphyxiate, the air molecules too far apart. It doesn’t matter; she’s all the air he needs and he breathes in her skin and sweat and lives.
Author: olaf47
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through the end of the series
Summary: “Lee,” she says and she sounds too much like the Kara he remembers, admonishing him for the stick up his ass. “I’ve been a frakking angel since I came back. You saw my Viper explode but you didn’t seem to care when I arrived back on your wing. What’s your problem with it now?”
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The words are.
A/N: Written for bsg_pornbattle. Prompts: Kara/Lee, always come back, the afterlife is so boring, no air
“The afterlife is so boring.”
Lee spins around and levels his gun in the direction of the voice.
Kara is sitting across the fire from him, leaning against a rock and looking at the stars. She glances at him and smirks.
“Gonna shoot me, Apollo?”
“What the frak?” he breathes, doesn’t put his gun down. “Kara? Is it really y-what are you-what you doing here?”
She shrugs, tilts her head back to the stars. “I told you, the afterlife is boring.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Kara? This doesn’t-this doesn’t make sense. You can’t be here.”
She doesn’t reply. He eyes her warily. His gun’s at his side now, but he’s almost tempted to shoot her just to see what happens. She can’t be here, she’s not real, so what would happen if he just shot her? He sighs. Obviously he'd never shoot Kara, even if she is just a figment of his imagination.
“I need some sleep.” He runs a hand through his hair and heads to his tent, one glance back at her.
“C’mon, Leland.”
“Frak!”
She’s in his frakking tent now, and he knows she’s not real, knows there was no way for her to get from the fire to his tent like that. He closes his eyes tight.
“Lee,” she says and she sounds too much like the Kara he remembers, admonishing him for the stick up his ass. “I’ve been a frakking angel since I came back. You saw my Viper explode but you didn’t seem to care when I arrived back on your wing. What’s your problem with it now?”
“You’re not here. You’re not real.”
“I am. I might not be human, but I’m here and I’m real.”
He closes his eyes again and when he opens them, she’s naked.
“Frakking gods, Kara! Put your clothes back on.”
She grins, a lazy, arrogant grin, and quirks an eyebrow at him. “See my clothes around here?”
And he thought she was tricky when she was alive. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and throws it at her.
“There you go, Apollo, stripping down. We’re finally on the same page.”
He ignores her. “Put that on.”
She laughs at him. Gods, he wants to hit her, frakking with his mind like this.
But he wants to frak her too, because she’s Kara and she’s naked and he’s always wanted her. He’s not sure he cares if she’s real. She smiles like she knows what he’s thinking. He wonders if she does, wonders what happens to you when you die.
“C’mon, Apollo. It’s you and me, no spouses or fiancés or brothers or Cylons.”
His body’s responding the way she wants it to, a stirring in his center, but the fire she lights in him isn’t as strong as the ache. She’s a magnet and his bones are iron, no matter how hard he tries to hold himself back she pulls him. There’s never been anything as strong as her gravity.
He swallows hard and finally looks at her. It’s dark, only the cast of the campfire. His shadow falls over her, the curves of its edges melting into her curves. She’s beautiful, always beautiful. Her hair’s shorter than when she disappeared, the length he likes it and it’s all just a fantasy.
“Am I really so lonely I dreamed you up?”
She actually looks hurt by that. “Gods, Lee, you didn’t dream me up.”
She reaches for his shirt to put it on but he crosses the tent, takes her hand, and stops her. She blinks at him.
“You’re really here?” It’s no more than a breath.
“I always come back to you.”
He moves then, because he can’t not. Because she’s Kara and she’s naked and he’s always wanted her.
She smiles before his lips catch hers, keeps smiling though the kiss; he can feel it. He can’t breathe, doesn’t care, doesn’t want to. Wants nothing more than to stay pressed against her for eternity. Her breasts are tight to his chest but he can still feel her heartbeat. It feels alive.
When he’s going dizzy from lack of oxygen, she nips at his lips and ducks away, lets him gasp as she bites her way along his jaw, to his earlobe, that she worries between teeth covered by lips. It hurts. He wonders if ears can bruise.
He wants to bruise everywhere, anything to remember her in the morning. She moves to the crevice above his collarbone and he is going to bruise there, her mouth calling the blood to the surface. He runs his hands through her hair. Pulls her back to his lips.
“Gods, Kara.”
She’s still half-smiling, like she’s so happy she can’t stop herself, and it all feels real and he tries not to think about her, about them, about everything that actually happened.
She gets his pants off without him noticing; he wonders if that’s a skill the afterlife gave her, laughs at the thought. He laughs and she twists him underneath her, naked now. The sleeping bag slips beneath their slick skin but he can only feel her.
She’s there and she must be real because she’s around him, tight and it’s like he remembers, better than he remembers. There’s nothing but them now. The fire is dying and it should be too dark to see her but she looks like exactly what she is-the flicker of the flames glints off her hair, lighting it like a halo and she’s always been his angel.
He thrusts into her and she half-sighs his name. Their wet heat welds them together. He can’t stop canting his hips to her, sits up the best he can to latch his mouth to any skin he can reach. She holds his head to her chest and says his name again.
There’s no oxygen left in the tent, consumed by their fire and gasps. He’s going to asphyxiate, the air molecules too far apart. It doesn’t matter; she’s all the air he needs and he breathes in her skin and sweat and lives.