Fic: Minimum Safe Distance [BSG, Kara/Lee]
Title: Minimum Safe Distance
Author: Trinity
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Word Count: 1436
Summary: There's been this space between them for the past five days, and no matter what she does, she finds it getting smaller and smaller, and it's not entirely unwelcome.
Author's Notes: Post-"33" fic. Thanks bunches to
wisteria_ for the beta and
shifting_geers for the title, cause I fail at thinking of titles.
Minimum Safe Distance
Five days without sleep, three obnoxious little white pills and Kara suddenly realizes that Crashdown was pretty frakking accurate in his description - ants crawling behind your frakking eyeballs, indeed. She can't stop blinking.
It's frakking annoying, to say the least.
Her flight suit is stuck to her skin in places. It wasn't made to take this kind of abuse, but then again, neither was she. But it's got to come off. The zipper makes this awful grinding sound that's definitely not like music to her over-stimulated senses, and it's the only thing she can hear, and it makes her want to scream.
When she's got one arm out, she looks down and sees red, raw patches that are almost enough to make her quit trying and just wear the damn suit forever. She stares at her arm and blinks a lot, and her mind is blessedly blank and her eyelids start to droop and she thinks just a few minutes more, just a few...
A pair of strong arms come around her, pushing her back upright. "There are better places to sleep than the head, Kara."
Lee is looking at her, concerned. She must be blinking again. Frakking stims. It's all worn off but that creepy-crawly sensation, like needle pricks or thousands of tiny legs in parade formation. "Sleep? What's that?" she jokes thinly, and it comes out as a hoarse croaking sound that just makes Lee furrow his brow. Beads of water roll down his temple and she's fascinated with them, reaches a finger out to trace the path of one of them. He's the most real thing she's touched in days.
Try as she might, her eyes won't focus. Seeing two of everything makes her dizzy.
"Come on." He walks her in the direction of the showers, and she's so strangely disconnected from herself that it doesn't occur to her to protest. Boots come off first, then the rest of the suit - "Gods damn it, Lee, that hurts." - and he stops short of removing her underwear. And she can see him pretending not to look, but that's okay because she's pretending not to think about things that she's pretty sure she's only thinking about because she's overtired and practically delirious. Even if he weren't her late fiancee's brother and her superior officer and one of the few friends she has left, she wouldn't have the strength to want to pursue that now, anyway.
Can she even still call it friendship?
Had it ever really been friendship?
Gods. That makes her brain hurt.
He is taking care not to touch her as he reaches around her to turn on the shower, but she sways and he catches her and suddenly there's hands on skin and it's not entirely inappropriate, but it's not helping anything. Somehow, she manages a laugh. Lee pushes her into the shower, right under the spray, and for a moment it makes the creepy-crawlies go away.
The shower's turned up as hot as it will go, and the stinging spray is good because it numbs her skin; she's so sick of feeling every damn thing that it no longer matters if the water's hot enough to burn. She closes her eyes and lets the hot water roll over her shoulders, down her back. She's too tired to bother with soap, just stands there and lets the water pound her senses into half-oblivion, until Lee's voice jolts her back to reality. "Hey! I know we're not on water rations, but save some for everyone else."
She finds enough strength to stick a hand out of the shower curtain and flick water at him.
"You know, some of us are waiting for you to get out of the shower so we can get some real sleep."
"Good to know. I'll take my time."
"Frak you."
"Sorry, too tired."
Kara allows herself thirty more seconds of indulgent hot water-wasting before finally shutting the water off. The cold air hits her like a punch to the gut, and she hisses audibly.
"About frakking time."
"Shut up." It's the best she can manage.
Lee hands her a towel, and she peels her wet undergarments off and wraps herself up, then steps out of the stall. She stands there for a moment, staring at nothing. Nothing's great, it's exactly what she needs right now. No Cylons, no Vipers, no FTL jumps, just the absence of thought. Her brain really is empty, and it makes her giggle, because it's hysterical. It's all frakking hysterical.
"Hey, Lee," she says, and she feels his hand at her elbow, steering her towards the officer's quarters like an old lady, which just makes her laugh more. "We made two hundred and thirty eight jumps. That's...a lot." The fact that she can remember how many jumps they made, especially when her ability to form coherent sentences is sorely lacking, is absolutely hilarious. She's certain they can hear her laughing all the way back on Caprica.
"Yeah," says Lee, "you're going to bed. Now."
That sounds familiar.
And his tone makes her laugh even harder, hanging off his arm and biting her hand to keep from waking everyone else up. They've done this before, she thinks. Something about a bar, and too much ambrosia, and Lee pronouncing her unfit for consciousness as he attempted to shove her in the back seat of his car, and gales of laughter that had him rolling his eyes so far into his head she thought they'd disappear. And he sounded so much then like he does now that she collapses against him in an uncontrollable giggle fit, throwing the two of them off balance right as they step through the hatch. This earns them more than a few dirty looks from the pilots sprawled around the bunk room in various stages of undress and sleep.
Kara thinks they look like rag dolls, limbs with no joints dangling off the edges of the racks. Like a child's discarded toys. She laughs at this, someone yells something obscene, and she's tempted to yell right back but there must be a short between her brain and her mouth because when she opens her mouth, no sound comes out. Being this tired is a lot like being drunk, only without all the fun partying beforehand. Just five days of madness. It really shouldn't be this funny.
Lee tightens his grip on her elbow. "Kara."
Kara mock-whispers, "Sorry," and gets a look from him that shuts her up immediately. She flings herself bodily onto the nearest empty bunk, and it feels so good just to lay down that she lets out this obscene groan that earns her another one of Lee's reproachful looks. Only she's way past the point of caring.
Lee tosses her a pair of sweats and a tank, and she ignores them completely. "No clothes. Just sleep."
"Kara. You can't sleep there."
"Why not?" Already half asleep. Not in the mood for whatever argument he's trying to start. She just wants to sleep, for frak's sake.
He sighs. "That's my bunk, Kara."
"And...?"
"And I'd like to get some sleep, too."
"I'll move over."
She can almost hear him contemplating it, and she has this sudden clear moment where she realizes that it's the end of the world, which is more than a little scary, and it's a lonely feeling being on a battlestar in the middle of nowhere when you're the only one left and would it be such a bad thing to have a warm body nearby for just this one night? He must be thinking the same thing, and she hurriedly slips into the clothes he threw at her as if that might be the deciding factor.
It's a relief when she finally feels his weight pressing down on the thin mattress. Space isn't so lonely anymore, not tonight, anyway.
The curtain slides shut and they both toss and turn and try to get comfortable and still maintain distance. Not an easy task in a rack that's barely as wide as a person. But she knows the alternative would be too dangerous, even after so many years, so they wind up back to back, not touching any more than the tiny space requires.
"Lee?" Her mouth seems full of cotton and her brain can barely process thoughts but this one's so pressing right now that she forces it out.
"Kara?" He sounds like she feels.
"End of the world. Should we be scared?"
His voice is very small when he finally answers. "I am."
"Me, too," she admits, and she feels his spine pressing just slightly into hers and thinks but maybe not so much, now.
**
Author: Trinity
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Word Count: 1436
Summary: There's been this space between them for the past five days, and no matter what she does, she finds it getting smaller and smaller, and it's not entirely unwelcome.
Author's Notes: Post-"33" fic. Thanks bunches to
wisteria_ for the beta and
shifting_geers for the title, cause I fail at thinking of titles.
Minimum Safe Distance
Five days without sleep, three obnoxious little white pills and Kara suddenly realizes that Crashdown was pretty frakking accurate in his description - ants crawling behind your frakking eyeballs, indeed. She can't stop blinking.
It's frakking annoying, to say the least.
Her flight suit is stuck to her skin in places. It wasn't made to take this kind of abuse, but then again, neither was she. But it's got to come off. The zipper makes this awful grinding sound that's definitely not like music to her over-stimulated senses, and it's the only thing she can hear, and it makes her want to scream.
When she's got one arm out, she looks down and sees red, raw patches that are almost enough to make her quit trying and just wear the damn suit forever. She stares at her arm and blinks a lot, and her mind is blessedly blank and her eyelids start to droop and she thinks just a few minutes more, just a few...
A pair of strong arms come around her, pushing her back upright. "There are better places to sleep than the head, Kara."
Lee is looking at her, concerned. She must be blinking again. Frakking stims. It's all worn off but that creepy-crawly sensation, like needle pricks or thousands of tiny legs in parade formation. "Sleep? What's that?" she jokes thinly, and it comes out as a hoarse croaking sound that just makes Lee furrow his brow. Beads of water roll down his temple and she's fascinated with them, reaches a finger out to trace the path of one of them. He's the most real thing she's touched in days.
Try as she might, her eyes won't focus. Seeing two of everything makes her dizzy.
"Come on." He walks her in the direction of the showers, and she's so strangely disconnected from herself that it doesn't occur to her to protest. Boots come off first, then the rest of the suit - "Gods damn it, Lee, that hurts." - and he stops short of removing her underwear. And she can see him pretending not to look, but that's okay because she's pretending not to think about things that she's pretty sure she's only thinking about because she's overtired and practically delirious. Even if he weren't her late fiancee's brother and her superior officer and one of the few friends she has left, she wouldn't have the strength to want to pursue that now, anyway.
Can she even still call it friendship?
Had it ever really been friendship?
Gods. That makes her brain hurt.
He is taking care not to touch her as he reaches around her to turn on the shower, but she sways and he catches her and suddenly there's hands on skin and it's not entirely inappropriate, but it's not helping anything. Somehow, she manages a laugh. Lee pushes her into the shower, right under the spray, and for a moment it makes the creepy-crawlies go away.
The shower's turned up as hot as it will go, and the stinging spray is good because it numbs her skin; she's so sick of feeling every damn thing that it no longer matters if the water's hot enough to burn. She closes her eyes and lets the hot water roll over her shoulders, down her back. She's too tired to bother with soap, just stands there and lets the water pound her senses into half-oblivion, until Lee's voice jolts her back to reality. "Hey! I know we're not on water rations, but save some for everyone else."
She finds enough strength to stick a hand out of the shower curtain and flick water at him.
"You know, some of us are waiting for you to get out of the shower so we can get some real sleep."
"Good to know. I'll take my time."
"Frak you."
"Sorry, too tired."
Kara allows herself thirty more seconds of indulgent hot water-wasting before finally shutting the water off. The cold air hits her like a punch to the gut, and she hisses audibly.
"About frakking time."
"Shut up." It's the best she can manage.
Lee hands her a towel, and she peels her wet undergarments off and wraps herself up, then steps out of the stall. She stands there for a moment, staring at nothing. Nothing's great, it's exactly what she needs right now. No Cylons, no Vipers, no FTL jumps, just the absence of thought. Her brain really is empty, and it makes her giggle, because it's hysterical. It's all frakking hysterical.
"Hey, Lee," she says, and she feels his hand at her elbow, steering her towards the officer's quarters like an old lady, which just makes her laugh more. "We made two hundred and thirty eight jumps. That's...a lot." The fact that she can remember how many jumps they made, especially when her ability to form coherent sentences is sorely lacking, is absolutely hilarious. She's certain they can hear her laughing all the way back on Caprica.
"Yeah," says Lee, "you're going to bed. Now."
That sounds familiar.
And his tone makes her laugh even harder, hanging off his arm and biting her hand to keep from waking everyone else up. They've done this before, she thinks. Something about a bar, and too much ambrosia, and Lee pronouncing her unfit for consciousness as he attempted to shove her in the back seat of his car, and gales of laughter that had him rolling his eyes so far into his head she thought they'd disappear. And he sounded so much then like he does now that she collapses against him in an uncontrollable giggle fit, throwing the two of them off balance right as they step through the hatch. This earns them more than a few dirty looks from the pilots sprawled around the bunk room in various stages of undress and sleep.
Kara thinks they look like rag dolls, limbs with no joints dangling off the edges of the racks. Like a child's discarded toys. She laughs at this, someone yells something obscene, and she's tempted to yell right back but there must be a short between her brain and her mouth because when she opens her mouth, no sound comes out. Being this tired is a lot like being drunk, only without all the fun partying beforehand. Just five days of madness. It really shouldn't be this funny.
Lee tightens his grip on her elbow. "Kara."
Kara mock-whispers, "Sorry," and gets a look from him that shuts her up immediately. She flings herself bodily onto the nearest empty bunk, and it feels so good just to lay down that she lets out this obscene groan that earns her another one of Lee's reproachful looks. Only she's way past the point of caring.
Lee tosses her a pair of sweats and a tank, and she ignores them completely. "No clothes. Just sleep."
"Kara. You can't sleep there."
"Why not?" Already half asleep. Not in the mood for whatever argument he's trying to start. She just wants to sleep, for frak's sake.
He sighs. "That's my bunk, Kara."
"And...?"
"And I'd like to get some sleep, too."
"I'll move over."
She can almost hear him contemplating it, and she has this sudden clear moment where she realizes that it's the end of the world, which is more than a little scary, and it's a lonely feeling being on a battlestar in the middle of nowhere when you're the only one left and would it be such a bad thing to have a warm body nearby for just this one night? He must be thinking the same thing, and she hurriedly slips into the clothes he threw at her as if that might be the deciding factor.
It's a relief when she finally feels his weight pressing down on the thin mattress. Space isn't so lonely anymore, not tonight, anyway.
The curtain slides shut and they both toss and turn and try to get comfortable and still maintain distance. Not an easy task in a rack that's barely as wide as a person. But she knows the alternative would be too dangerous, even after so many years, so they wind up back to back, not touching any more than the tiny space requires.
"Lee?" Her mouth seems full of cotton and her brain can barely process thoughts but this one's so pressing right now that she forces it out.
"Kara?" He sounds like she feels.
"End of the world. Should we be scared?"
His voice is very small when he finally answers. "I am."
"Me, too," she admits, and she feels his spine pressing just slightly into hers and thinks but maybe not so much, now.
**