BSG Fic: the empty world sings
Pairing: Lee/Sam
Rating: PG
for: bsg_epics
Summary: Lee goes to get the Arrow from Caprica....
(he's Apollo, it's his arrow, right? just go with it. Apparently I will write every conceivable what-if ever... IDEK)
Lee and Helo raced through the trees, firing back at their Cylon pursuers, climbing up the stairs only to find the way blocked. A tall man with a rifle was there and he shook his head in grim warning.
Lee glanced up and felt his fingers go numb in shock as he recognized the familiar face. "You! You're Anders?"
The icy blue eyes didn't waver. "Yeah, that's right. And you are?"
"Major Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet. Lt. Karl Agathon," he jerked his chin in Helo's direction. Helo was trying to hold off the others who had surrounded them. "Helo, these are the C-Bucs."
It took a little more for suspicions to ease, but eventually both were satisfied the others weren't Cylons, and Sam brought the two of them back to their resistance base. Lee looked around, as the team and others started to unpack the trucks. "This is impressive," he told Sam. "Didn't expect to find anyone, least of all an organized resistance."
"We do what we can. c'mon, people, let's get those trucks unloaded!" he shouted and hurried off to help.
Lee stayed out of the way and watched. He would never have put the Caprica Buccaneers with any kind of chance to survive the end of the world, but there they were, most of the team, surviving and fighting.
Helo stayed next to him. "Didn't think you were a fan."
"Not like you or Kara are fans. Mostly I just don't like the Panthers."
Baroaly heard and held out a hand for a slap as she went by. "You have good taste."
Of course it was a lie. Lee was a fan, even if he'd only admit it to himself. It had started in reflexive opposition to his father's adoration of the Panthers, but following the C-Bucs had taken a leap as soon as Anders had been traded from Virgon to the C-Bucs. Lee had bought the wall calendar in his locker solely for the photo in the middle, and there was a Samuel T Anders trading card in Lee's flight suit -- card five of the gold foil championship series and one he'd bought at auction for too much money. Nobody knew about the card or his ridiculous crush on a dead guy (Kara's teasing would be merciless) but it had grown into a superstition that as long as he carried the card, he'd be lucky.
His card had brought him ultimate luck, because not only was Anders not dead after all, he was here. It was both everything Lee had ever wanted and nothing like he had imagined.
After an early supper, he noticed Sam disappeared and Lee wandered after him, intending to ask about getting the hell off this planet, since he had coordinates to the fleet and an Arrow to take back.
He found Sam on the pyramid court, alone, putting on his arm pads as if he was about to practice. He saw Lee enter and threw the ball at him. "You wanna play?"
Lee caught it. For a moment the offer was tempting -- play against Sam Anders? That would be a dream come true, but he also didn't feel like humiliating himself in front of someone he admired. "I'm not very good."
Sam snorted. "Don't try to play a player, man. I can tell you played in high school. And I think I remember your name so I'm gonna guess you played for the Fleet Academy."
Lee felt warm at the notion that Sam recognized his name. "Yes, I did."
"So play." Then Sam taunted, "I'll go easy on you."
It was ridiculous how the implicit challenge seemed to make his blood burn, but it did, and Lee hurled the ball back at him. "Not necessary."
Lee knew right away it was a mistake. Pyramid was rough and physical, and Sam didn't go easy on him at all, forcing Lee to defend close and grab him. And when Sam tackled Lee, it wasn't the rush of air from his lungs that made him lie there for a moment, but the feel of Sam's body against his back, and the knee he had between Lee's legs made it impossible to remember how to breathe. His heart was pounding, and touching Sam's skin felt like it burned his fingers.
When they stood, he had to lick his lips and try to shake it off. Play resumed, and while Sam was plainly a better player, Lee was able to score twice and felt pretty triumphant about that. But the feeling was even better when Sam's hand slid down his shoulder and arm in what could be either an accidental foul to grab the ball or a deliberate attempt to feel him up. Lee's stomach tightened at the idea, unable to let it go, even when he told himself it had to be an accident.
Lee jumped against him, trying to shoot over his head, and then slid down so they ended up body-to-body and suddenly still, looking into each other's eyes. Lee swallowed to see that Sam was affected by this as much as he was. No, that touch had been no accidental caress.
"You want to come shower with me?" Sam asked in a low voice that seemed to send fire right down to his groin. They were close enough that Lee could feel that Sam was trembling slightly, and he licked his lips as if he was uncertain about his invitation.
Lee couldn't imagine anyone actually turning him down, though. "Hell yeah," he answered and laughed shakily. "Can't think of anything I want more, right this second."
Sam flashed a grin at him that seemed to light up the whole courtyard. "Thank the gods." Then he leaned down, closer. "Gods, you are so frakking hot," he murmured, and before Lee could think of an answer, his mouth was on Lee's. Lee grabbed for his shoulders and the back of his neck to keep him there, returning the kiss urgent and deep. He tasted of old ambrosia and somehow also of chocolate, and the touch of his hands as Sam yanked at his shirt to slide his fingers up his bare back made Lee shiver and press closer.
Cylons, his mission, the Galactica... none of it mattered, only seizing this moment. Living.
Rating: PG
for: bsg_epics
Summary: Lee goes to get the Arrow from Caprica....
(he's Apollo, it's his arrow, right? just go with it. Apparently I will write every conceivable what-if ever... IDEK)
Lee and Helo raced through the trees, firing back at their Cylon pursuers, climbing up the stairs only to find the way blocked. A tall man with a rifle was there and he shook his head in grim warning.
Lee glanced up and felt his fingers go numb in shock as he recognized the familiar face. "You! You're Anders?"
The icy blue eyes didn't waver. "Yeah, that's right. And you are?"
"Major Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet. Lt. Karl Agathon," he jerked his chin in Helo's direction. Helo was trying to hold off the others who had surrounded them. "Helo, these are the C-Bucs."
It took a little more for suspicions to ease, but eventually both were satisfied the others weren't Cylons, and Sam brought the two of them back to their resistance base. Lee looked around, as the team and others started to unpack the trucks. "This is impressive," he told Sam. "Didn't expect to find anyone, least of all an organized resistance."
"We do what we can. c'mon, people, let's get those trucks unloaded!" he shouted and hurried off to help.
Lee stayed out of the way and watched. He would never have put the Caprica Buccaneers with any kind of chance to survive the end of the world, but there they were, most of the team, surviving and fighting.
Helo stayed next to him. "Didn't think you were a fan."
"Not like you or Kara are fans. Mostly I just don't like the Panthers."
Baroaly heard and held out a hand for a slap as she went by. "You have good taste."
Of course it was a lie. Lee was a fan, even if he'd only admit it to himself. It had started in reflexive opposition to his father's adoration of the Panthers, but following the C-Bucs had taken a leap as soon as Anders had been traded from Virgon to the C-Bucs. Lee had bought the wall calendar in his locker solely for the photo in the middle, and there was a Samuel T Anders trading card in Lee's flight suit -- card five of the gold foil championship series and one he'd bought at auction for too much money. Nobody knew about the card or his ridiculous crush on a dead guy (Kara's teasing would be merciless) but it had grown into a superstition that as long as he carried the card, he'd be lucky.
His card had brought him ultimate luck, because not only was Anders not dead after all, he was here. It was both everything Lee had ever wanted and nothing like he had imagined.
After an early supper, he noticed Sam disappeared and Lee wandered after him, intending to ask about getting the hell off this planet, since he had coordinates to the fleet and an Arrow to take back.
He found Sam on the pyramid court, alone, putting on his arm pads as if he was about to practice. He saw Lee enter and threw the ball at him. "You wanna play?"
Lee caught it. For a moment the offer was tempting -- play against Sam Anders? That would be a dream come true, but he also didn't feel like humiliating himself in front of someone he admired. "I'm not very good."
Sam snorted. "Don't try to play a player, man. I can tell you played in high school. And I think I remember your name so I'm gonna guess you played for the Fleet Academy."
Lee felt warm at the notion that Sam recognized his name. "Yes, I did."
"So play." Then Sam taunted, "I'll go easy on you."
It was ridiculous how the implicit challenge seemed to make his blood burn, but it did, and Lee hurled the ball back at him. "Not necessary."
Lee knew right away it was a mistake. Pyramid was rough and physical, and Sam didn't go easy on him at all, forcing Lee to defend close and grab him. And when Sam tackled Lee, it wasn't the rush of air from his lungs that made him lie there for a moment, but the feel of Sam's body against his back, and the knee he had between Lee's legs made it impossible to remember how to breathe. His heart was pounding, and touching Sam's skin felt like it burned his fingers.
When they stood, he had to lick his lips and try to shake it off. Play resumed, and while Sam was plainly a better player, Lee was able to score twice and felt pretty triumphant about that. But the feeling was even better when Sam's hand slid down his shoulder and arm in what could be either an accidental foul to grab the ball or a deliberate attempt to feel him up. Lee's stomach tightened at the idea, unable to let it go, even when he told himself it had to be an accident.
Lee jumped against him, trying to shoot over his head, and then slid down so they ended up body-to-body and suddenly still, looking into each other's eyes. Lee swallowed to see that Sam was affected by this as much as he was. No, that touch had been no accidental caress.
"You want to come shower with me?" Sam asked in a low voice that seemed to send fire right down to his groin. They were close enough that Lee could feel that Sam was trembling slightly, and he licked his lips as if he was uncertain about his invitation.
Lee couldn't imagine anyone actually turning him down, though. "Hell yeah," he answered and laughed shakily. "Can't think of anything I want more, right this second."
Sam flashed a grin at him that seemed to light up the whole courtyard. "Thank the gods." Then he leaned down, closer. "Gods, you are so frakking hot," he murmured, and before Lee could think of an answer, his mouth was on Lee's. Lee grabbed for his shoulders and the back of his neck to keep him there, returning the kiss urgent and deep. He tasted of old ambrosia and somehow also of chocolate, and the touch of his hands as Sam yanked at his shirt to slide his fingers up his bare back made Lee shiver and press closer.
Cylons, his mission, the Galactica... none of it mattered, only seizing this moment. Living.