PROLOGUE: Sam's Twenty-Fifth Floor Penthouse
Title: The Tomboy's Man
Characters: Kara Thrace, Sam Anders
Time Period: Kara and Sam's wedding reception (2014)
Summary: Kara and Sam get ready. He hasn't seen the dress yet.
It was cruel of Kara to ask him to close her zipper with his eyes closed, but he behaved himself. But the zipper only went to right below her shoulder blades, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra, both of which he was a fan of already.
She pulled away from him, and there was a rustle of fabric as she spun around. “Okay,” she said, and he opened his eyes.
“Wow,” was the only word he could think of. A slinky, perfectly fitted black dress that covered everything, but somehow didn’t leave anything to the imagination, either.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Wow,” he repeated. “You look...amazing. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”
“It’s not,” she protested. “There was…that time when…” He raised his eyebrows expectantly as she thought. “Fine,” she said. She took a step forward and touched his collar. “I like this color on you,” she said. “Good for your eyes.” In her heels, she didn’t have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him, which he thought was a little bit of a shame, but he couldn’t complain about what they did for her ass.
“Thanks, babe. Michael helped me pick it out,” he said when they pulled apart. He hadn't been sure if this assistant was gay, until Sam had tried this shirt on. Now he was pretty sure. “You, too?”
“Nope,” she replied.
“Kara.”
She smiled. He had her. “Helo’s drag queen cousin,” she explained.
“Ah,” he replied, and this time he kissed her. This one wasn’t as brief, as he settled his hands onto her face. She started fumbling with his belt, pulling out his shirt tails. Her hands were cool on his stomach, and she was just starting to undo the bottom button when his phone buzzed. She kept working on the buttons as he picked it up. “Ugh,” he groaned. “We have to cut this short. Limo’s here.”
Before she slipped her hands out from under his shirt she gave a little tug on her dogtag hanging on the string. He hastily retucked while she checked her reflection in the oven. “Hold on,” she said, “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”
“Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear you say,” he teased. She stuck out a tongue. “Keep making faces like that,” he warned, “and you won’t need to fix it again in the limo.”
She playfully pulled on his collar again. “Something tells me I will.”
They made the limo driver wait.
Characters: Kara Thrace, Sam Anders
Time Period: Kara and Sam's wedding reception (2014)
Summary: Kara and Sam get ready. He hasn't seen the dress yet.
It was cruel of Kara to ask him to close her zipper with his eyes closed, but he behaved himself. But the zipper only went to right below her shoulder blades, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra, both of which he was a fan of already.
She pulled away from him, and there was a rustle of fabric as she spun around. “Okay,” she said, and he opened his eyes.
“Wow,” was the only word he could think of. A slinky, perfectly fitted black dress that covered everything, but somehow didn’t leave anything to the imagination, either.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Wow,” he repeated. “You look...amazing. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”
“It’s not,” she protested. “There was…that time when…” He raised his eyebrows expectantly as she thought. “Fine,” she said. She took a step forward and touched his collar. “I like this color on you,” she said. “Good for your eyes.” In her heels, she didn’t have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him, which he thought was a little bit of a shame, but he couldn’t complain about what they did for her ass.
“Thanks, babe. Michael helped me pick it out,” he said when they pulled apart. He hadn't been sure if this assistant was gay, until Sam had tried this shirt on. Now he was pretty sure. “You, too?”
“Nope,” she replied.
“Kara.”
She smiled. He had her. “Helo’s drag queen cousin,” she explained.
“Ah,” he replied, and this time he kissed her. This one wasn’t as brief, as he settled his hands onto her face. She started fumbling with his belt, pulling out his shirt tails. Her hands were cool on his stomach, and she was just starting to undo the bottom button when his phone buzzed. She kept working on the buttons as he picked it up. “Ugh,” he groaned. “We have to cut this short. Limo’s here.”
Before she slipped her hands out from under his shirt she gave a little tug on her dogtag hanging on the string. He hastily retucked while she checked her reflection in the oven. “Hold on,” she said, “I think I need to fix my lipstick.”
“Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear you say,” he teased. She stuck out a tongue. “Keep making faces like that,” he warned, “and you won’t need to fix it again in the limo.”
She playfully pulled on his collar again. “Something tells me I will.”
They made the limo driver wait.