t is for trickle
Fandom: Star Trek Deep Space Nine/Battlestar Galactica 2003
Pairing: Jadzia/Starbuck
Claim: Dax
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
Summary: Jadzia and Starbuck, boxing. First of three.
Title: Sweat
Starbuck stands there grinning, outlined in the light, arms hanging loosely at her sides, sweat trickling down the curve of her neck, and for a moment Jadzia loses concentration.
Not for long, as a boxing glove comes within inches of impacting her chest. Animal instinct is all that saves her, and the solid sound of leather connecting with flesh reverberates in her ears as she blocks with aching arms.
"Gotcha," Kara whispers, leaning forward, cropped hair falling across her cheek, her eyes easing down the curve of Jadzia’s torso. Her skin is damp, and she licks her lips.
Dax flicks her eyebrows up, pushing her away, coming back to herself with a solid hook, the blows falling in quick succession. In a moment she has the woman against the wall, on the defensive, blocking an uppercut. A feral grin flickers across the Trill’s face.
"Can I get that in writing?" she murmurs, gasping for breath, pressing her sweat-soaked body against Kara’s. Thrace is the better boxer, but Jadzia knows a thing or two that leaves her flailing.
Kara smiles, and Dax can feel her heart pounding through her shirt. "No promises," she hisses, invitingly; Jadzia can almost taste the salt on her lips--
--and before Jadzia has time to react, she’s the recipent of a solid standing body check, and Starbuck’s back in the game, attacking with a speed that utterly surprises her panting opponent.
When Jadzia goes down, Kara doesn’t even blink. “Another round?” she asks, wiping her brow.
Pairing: Jadzia/Starbuck
Claim: Dax
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
Summary: Jadzia and Starbuck, boxing. First of three.
Title: Sweat
Starbuck stands there grinning, outlined in the light, arms hanging loosely at her sides, sweat trickling down the curve of her neck, and for a moment Jadzia loses concentration.
Not for long, as a boxing glove comes within inches of impacting her chest. Animal instinct is all that saves her, and the solid sound of leather connecting with flesh reverberates in her ears as she blocks with aching arms.
"Gotcha," Kara whispers, leaning forward, cropped hair falling across her cheek, her eyes easing down the curve of Jadzia’s torso. Her skin is damp, and she licks her lips.
Dax flicks her eyebrows up, pushing her away, coming back to herself with a solid hook, the blows falling in quick succession. In a moment she has the woman against the wall, on the defensive, blocking an uppercut. A feral grin flickers across the Trill’s face.
"Can I get that in writing?" she murmurs, gasping for breath, pressing her sweat-soaked body against Kara’s. Thrace is the better boxer, but Jadzia knows a thing or two that leaves her flailing.
Kara smiles, and Dax can feel her heart pounding through her shirt. "No promises," she hisses, invitingly; Jadzia can almost taste the salt on her lips--
--and before Jadzia has time to react, she’s the recipent of a solid standing body check, and Starbuck’s back in the game, attacking with a speed that utterly surprises her panting opponent.
When Jadzia goes down, Kara doesn’t even blink. “Another round?” she asks, wiping her brow.