Scars that Words have Carved- 3/?
Title: Scars that Words Have Carved
Fandom: BSG/Buffyverse
Chapter: 3/?
Words: ~4400
Pairings: Lee/Kara, Kara/Faith, Faith/Kat
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17 (R this chapter)Setting: S2.5-S4
Summary: "Life's simple. Want. Take. Have. That's all I'm sayin'."
EXTRA SUPER SPECIAL LOVE TO THE AMAZING AMAZING AMAZING taragel who helped me so much when this chapter was royally kicking my ass.
Previous Chapters Here
“Morning, sir.”
Lee looked up at the chipper greeting issuing from his newest problem pilot and fleetingly wondered if Cottle had performed a surprise lobotomy in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t put it past him, after getting a dose of Slayer’s usual attitude when she and Starbuck had taken their little field trip to sick bay. She had railed on, insisting she was fine and the doc was a quack who didn’t know what he was talking about. Cottle had had to give her injured arm a firm yank to get her to stop protesting long enough for him to examine what turned out to be a sprain.
He stopped in his tracks, watching as Slayer strode towards him, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, lips curled in an expansive grin, and just a glimmer of something in those dark eyes. He couldn’t quite place what it was but he was pretty sure he didn’t like it. “Morning, Lieutenant,” he said with a brief nod of his head, refusing to let her disarm him with the new tactic of actually acting like a soldier.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
“Just fine,” he replied, fighting the urge to raise an eyebrow as she rocked back on her heels. He waited for whatever smart-ass reply she had in store for him and yet nothing came. She stayed silent for once and stood there smiling like Lee was missing out on a really fantastic joke. Whatever it was, if it was making Slayer happy, he did not want to hear it. “Do you need something?” he finally asked.
Slayer held her hand to her chest in mock disbelief, drawing in an exaggerated gasp of air. “What makes you think I want anything?”
Despite the self-satisfied air she was carrying around with her, which was really par for the course, he almost felt like giving her credit for keeping her voice at a level that wouldn’t rupture eardrums. “I’m not returning you to flight status.”
Slayer’s face fell, her lips tightening into a straight line. “Yeah. Whatever you say, sir,” she grumbled with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders before continuing off down the corridor. He watched her leave before resuming on his walk to the mess hall.
He reached the hall and was about to step into the food queue when he saw Kara sitting off by herself, not eating but rather forcefully poking her breakfast with her fork. She leaned her elbow on the table, her chin on her hand, and her face was knit into an expression that wasn’t quite anger and wasn’t quite confusion. He could relate. “If the worlds hadn’t already ended, I’d say we should be worried,” he said, taking up a seat next to her.
Kara shook her head as she was jerked out of whatever thoughts she’d been absorbed in. It seemed to take her a moment for reality to sink in. “Huh?”
Lee sank back in his chair a bit. “I just had what might pass as a civilized conversation with Slayer.” He waited for Kara to reply but she had resumed absently stabbing at her food. After a moment he continued. “I wonder what’s gotten in to her.”
She still didn’t look up from her plate. “Maybe she made friends with her right hand,” she muttered and Lee couldn’t stifle the short laugh.
“Well if she’s figured out a way to deal with her crap that doesn’t involve injuring my pilots, I’m good.” It was only then that he realized Kara was not laughing as well. It took less than a second after that for it to click into place that Slayer’s mirth and Kara’s distracted state were not just coincidental. He watched her for a few more moments before he spoke again. “Thinking about things you want to do to Slayer?” he asked.
Kara turned towards him, eyebrow raised, before he gestured to her semi-violent grip on her fork. She released the utensil and it clattered against the table; she ran her fingers through her hair. “I hate her.” Her voice was even, not frustrated, just stating a fact. “She just… gets under my skin. I mean she knew exactly what to say to…” Kara bit her lip, shaking her head softly. “Ugh. You know what? Forget it.”
Lee got the strong feeling that last sentence was directed not at him but to herself, and for once he felt compelled to let it go as well. He decided to try another plan of attack. “Do you want to get a drink on Cloud 9 tonight?”
Kara snorted an incredulous laugh but when Lee didn’t laugh with her, a smirk started to creep onto her face.
“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
She leaned her elbows on the table, glancing sideways at him. “It sounded like you just asked me on a date, Apollo.”
Well. It hadn’t quite sounded that way in his head, but replaying the words, he realized it did sound very much like a date. He spoke quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Well, it’s just that a couple of long overdue R&R rotations are coming up, so some people are getting together for some, what do you call it? Fun. I think that’s what it’s called anyway, been so long since we had some.”
“And the ‘some people’ are?” she prompted.
“Well so far it’s Dee and Billy and… me… and…”
“Dee and Billy?” Kara echoed with a laugh. “Lee, you do remember catching them making out in the storage locker off Causeway B right?” Her eyes glimmered with amusement and her face split into a wide grin. It had been so long since Lee had seen that expression on her that he didn’t even care that she was mocking him. “Now it just sounds like you’re asking me on a double date.”
“I think you’re dreaming it,” he said, grinning back.
Kara’s smile softened, holding his gaze for just a moment before she averted her gaze. She reached for her mug, glancing into the dark liquid that barely passed for coffee these days.
Lee nudged her gently with his elbow. “Come on. A chance to get off the ship and,” he added pointedly, “away from you-know-who.”
“Alright, alright.” She took another sip, caught somewhere between smiling at him and frowning at the bitter taste. “But just because you being a third wheel to those kids is really kind of pathetic, Lee.”
“Your charity is touching,” he said flatly, “really.”
“Well, it only goes so far,” she said, giving him a wink as she raised the mug to her lips once again. “You’re buying.”
---
Kat knew better than to startle someone with a gun in their hand. She’d been passing by the firing range when she saw Slayer through the glass, taking careful aim at the image of a centurion on the target. Her face was a study in intense concentration, as she fired until the chamber rang empty. That was when Kat walked up behind her. “You’re in a good mood, today,” she shouted, knowing Slayer was anything but.
She gave a half-hearted shrug as she slid the noise-canceling muffs down around her neck. “Five by five.”
Kat crossed her arms over her chest, making herself comfortable as she leaned on the wall. “So no chance I’m gonna get to fly your wing any time soon?”
“Yeah,” Slayer said with a laugh, detaching the magazine from the sidearm. Kat’s glance flicked down to the paper bullseye. She’d been at this for a while; entire sections of the target had been shredded away. It seemed like her ultimate goal was to destroy the entire thing. “That’ll happen when the CAG gets that big old stick out from his ass.” She paused looking thoughtful before gesturing with her index finger. “Or laid. Laid works too.”
“Nah.” Kat shook her head. “The way I hear it, he was getting plenty over on Cloud 9.”
Slayer grabbed an extra pair of the earmuffs and tossed them over to Kat before sliding her own back into place and reloading the magazine. “Maybe if he and Starbuck get bouncy they’ll both stop bein’ such stuck-up tightasses,” she shouted to be heard before emptying the magazine into the target, taking a large chunk of paper with it.
“You noticed that already?”
“I noticed it day one.” Slayer set the gun aside and took off the muffs once again. “If they want in each other’s pants so bad, why the hell aren’t they frakkin’?”
“I think it falls under ‘it’s complicated.’ ” Kat shrugged removing hers as well. “We’ve got a pool going though on when they finally get around to it.”
“Damn,” Slayer said, sounding fully impressed. “How come no one told me ‘bout that?”
“Maybe because everyone here hates your guts?”
Slayer smiled and nodded an understanding. “Right. That.”
Kat pushed away from the wall, striding closer to her. “So what’re you doing tonight?”
“Can’t think of anythin’,” she said, removing her yellow safety goggles.
“A couple of us are planning a strip triad game tonight in the rec room. Wanna come?”
“Thought everyone hated me,” she repeated Kat’s earlier statement.
Kat was unable to hide the smile at her own words. “Well they’ll just have a lot of fun trying to get you naked, then.”
“Them?” Slayer asked, hooking her thumbs under her belt as she leveled a challenging look at Kat. “Or you?”
Kat simply bounced her eyebrows in response. “Come on, we might actually avoid injuries because Starbuck’s not gonna be there tonight.”
Slayer raised an eyebrow. “Where’s Starbuck goin’?”
“Where Starbuck’s ‘goin’’ is none of your business.” The two lieutenants turned their heads in unison to see the subject of their conversation entering the firing range with her sidearm in her hand. “Glad to see you two are so productive, sitting around gossping like some frakking school kids.”
“Standing around, actually.” Slayer corrected her with a little bit of a smirk. Kat watched the look that passed between them, there was the usual irritation from both parties, but something more. Slayer’s attitude had gone beyond her usual into a smugness Kat hadn’t seen on her before.
Starbuck turned away from them. “Get out. Both of you.”
Kat gave a brief salute and had started from the room before she realized Slayer was not following her. She turned back to see Slayer standing a few feet behind Starbuck, her arms crossed, her stance wide. Kat jerked her head towards the door and was met with a shake of the head. Slayer waved her on and Kat got the strong feeling that this was going nowhere good. She turned and quickly left the firing range.
---
“I told you to get out. That’s an order.”
Faith picked up her sidearm once again. “I was in the middle of target practice.”
“Didn’t look like it to me.”
Faith jerked her thumb towards her nearly obliterated target and Kara’s eyes narrowed into a glare. Faith could feel her own amusement rising again at the look. She slid her goggles and muffs back on, watching Starbuck take careful aim at her own target and fire off every cartridge in the magazine. All of the bullets struck the center of the target, but in a sporadic pattern rather than all concentrated in the same spot. “High accuracy, low precision.” Faith called over to her. “Something bugging you?”
Kara turned towards Slayer and saw the broad grin that crossed her lips. She tilted her head and surveyed the younger pilot. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” Her voice was low, threatening, incongruous with the small smile she wore. “Like you know a godsdamned thing about my life?” She stalked towards her.
Faith gave a brief nod of her head, not intimated by the posturing. “Y’already tipped your hand, K.” She smiled triumphantly. “Last night, if I wasn’t tellin’ you somethin’ you’d already heard before-a lot of times before-I figure I’d be lyin’ in sickbay bleedin’ out the side of my head or somethin’.”
“That can still be arranged,” Kara said, gesturing to the gun in her hand.
Faith rolled her eyes as she turned to leave. “Y’already emptied that clip, Starbuck. Keep track of these things.” Just before the hatch, she froze and turned back to Kara. “Lemme give you a piece of advice.”
“If I wanted your advice, I’d ask for it.” Kara gave a dismissive jerk of her head, not turning to look at her.
Faith shrugged. “Life’s simple. Want. Take. Have. That’s all I’m sayin’.” She left the room wondering if it was too late to get in on this pool.
---
By the time Helo reached the card game that evening, Racetrack was already down to her bra, Kat had lost her belt and her boots, Hotdog was pantsless, and Slayer’s left foot was bare, her toes tapping against the cold metal floor. He ran a hand through his hair, still matted and slightly damp with sweat from his helmet. He’d been accosted about an hour before by Kara-dressed in all black and looking like she’d run a brush through her hair for once. She’d missed the shuttle over to Cloud 9 and it took some string pulling on his part, but he’d gotten the clearance to fly her over.
When they had arrived, he wished her good luck.
“With what?” she’d asked.
He’d cast a very pointed look at the way her blouse showed off her cleavage, and she’d rolled her eyes as she left the Raptor. He spent most of the flight back to Galactica thinking about the rumor he’d heard about her showing up to Colonial Day in a dress. A once-in-a-lifetime event and he’d missed it running for his life on Caprica.
“Ah ah ah,” Slayer’s voice halted him as he pulled a chair up to the table. “Lateness penalty?” She suggested casting a glance around the table. From the other pilots’ reactions, it sounded like it was the first good thing she’d said all night.
Racetrack nodded an agreement. “I think he should lose the tanks.”
“One,” Helo said, as he peeled off the brown tank and let the fabric fall onto the floor. “Happy now?”
“Not really,” Slayer said, shuffling the cards. “But it’ll do for now.”
---
Slayer was stripping off her grey tank when Duck ran into the rec room, looking like he’d sprinted clear from the other end of the ship. “Have you guys heard?”
“Heard what?” Hotdog asked, now completely bare except for his briefs It had not been his night.
Duck held onto the back of Helo’s chair taking a moment to catch his breath. “Some terrorists took hostages at one of the bars on Cloud 9.”
Murmurs of “Oh gods”s and “I can’t believe it”s filled the room, even from beyond the card game. Cards went forgotten as people crowded around, trying to pry more information out of Duck. What happened? Where were they from? Was anyone hurt? “I don’t know, I don’t know!” He said, “I just know that they’re making demands.”
“What do they want?” Helo asked.
Duck didn’t need to say anything. His silence and awkward look at Helo was answer enough. Karl pushed his seat back from the table and quickly fled the room.
Slayer looked at the cards in her hand and threw them down on the table. Game over. She glanced up just in time to see Helo disappear from sight. For the briefest moment, she felt her leg twitch, her body wanting to move before her brain gave her the all clear. She pushed herself out of her seat, trailing him out into the corridor. She watched his back retreat down the passageway and wondered for a moment why she’d gotten up in the first place.
It wasn’t like she gave a flying frak-if the terrorists wanted the toaster they could have her as far as Faith was concerned, and the cylon frakker might as well be a cylon himself for all she cared. And if she did follow him what would she say? Sorry? She wasn’t. Best she could do was offer him something to hit, a little physical therapy. Instead, she turned on her heel and headed back to the pilots’ quarters.
---
It had been a while, Faith didn’t know how long for sure, when the hatch squealed open and Starbuck entered, already unbuttoning her blouse as she walked over to her locker and threw the door open. Faith cast a glance down at her from behind the tattered, old tattoo magazine she’d been reading for the fiftieth time. “Hey, sounds like I missed a party. No R&R for the wicked and all that.” But Kara didn’t answer her-Faith wondered if she’d even heard her-she was studiously, but speedily, casting aside her clothes and getting back into uniform before disappearing from the room once again.
Raising an eyebrow, Faith tossed the magazine aside, a few pages finally breaking away from the binding and flying out across the rack. As she slid down the ladder, she picked up Kara’s black pants from the bed and noticed a few dark, damp stains. When she pulled her hand away and noticed the red stains on herself, she realized it was blood.
For the second time that night, she trailed a superior office out into the passageway. This time she kept going, following all the way down to sickbay, which hummed with a little more activity than usual. When she finally caught up to Kara she was standing beside one of the beds. Her view of its occupant was blocked. It was only when she stepped up alongside Kara that she finally saw Lee Adama lying there. His eyes were closed, his breathing was shallow, but it looked like he was going to live. “Holy frak, what happened?”
Kara was silent as she stared down at him; she’d crossed her arms over herself, and it looked like her fingernails were digging into her arms. It seemed like she actually needed a moment to find her voice, because when she did speak her voice was full of a bitterness that if Faith hadn’t already called her out last night, it would’ve confirmed every suspicion she had about the captain. “Me.” And she turned on her heel and left the room.
Faith rolled her eyes and trailed her out into the corridor once again. “Okay, so you shot the guy you wanna frak. What’s the big? He’s gonna live.”
“You have no frakking idea what you’re talking about,” Kara spun back towards her, voice raised to the point that the words must have stung her throat on the way out. The heads of those in the corridor turned towards them, and Kara seethed with frustration. She caught Slayer by the arm, dragging her down a corridor to the nearest storage locker, shoving her inside, and slamming the hatch shut behind them.
“Gods!” Faith hissed as she caught her balance. “What the hell is that ‘bout!?”
“I am done with this!” She screamed, grabbing her by her arms, shoving her up against the wall. Faith cried out as her back hit the hard metal, sending a wave of pain shooting through her. “I am done with you! You have caused nothing but hell ever since you got here! You don’t belong here! You don’t belong in my life, and that is it. You’re done.”
Kara’s chest rose and fell erratically, her grip on Slayer’s arms tightening until Faith was sure she’d dislocate her shoulder if she moved the wrong way. Even in the dim light of the storage locker, Faith could see dampness on her cheek. And before she knew it, Kara’s lips were bruising her, pouring every last bit of anger, shame, and hatred into the kiss, as she released her arms and slid her hands around to claw at Faith’s back.
She brought her own hands up, tangling her fists in Kara’s hair. She was ready to go along for the ride.
---
Kara wasn’t sure how long she’d been caught up in Faith’s body, but she felt… not good. Numb. Pleasantly, blissfully numb, and far too comfortable to try to pry Faith off her. Besides, if she tried to move, tried to think of anything it would all just come back to her-how she’d frakked up that shot, how she’d almost gotten the other Adama brother killed. No, she pushed the thought away and concentrated on Faith’s arm draped across her torso.
She was almost surprised by how the lieutenant just collapsed, half-over her with a contented sigh, rather than dash off with a “that was great, I need a shower” again. Kara absently traced her finger over the black ink that trailed over Faith’s bicep. The dark swirls turned in on each other, touching once before curling away in different directions, spiking outward-almost symmetrical, but not, almost as though the lines could not make up their mind, which way to go, where to turn, so they went everywhere and nowhere and ultimately ended in spiny thorns as a warning not to get too close.
When Kara dragged her finger across one pathway of the tattoo, her finger brushed up against a bit of puckered skin. A long scar marking the skin underneath the ink caught her attention. She’d said “What’s that?” before she even realized she was speaking. Faith turned her head to glance over at the arm, her face now buried against Kara’s neck.
Faith’s voice was nonchalant as she answered, like it didn’t matter-but you don’t bury a scar with a tattoo for nothing. “Little present from mommy dearest,” she said. She said it like she’d told the story many times, but Kara got the feeling it was the only time Faith had ever told anyone. In fact, it must have been the same post-coital haze that let her give those words up, because gods knew if it was Kara, she would’ve kept them locked away.
Kara watched her own hand as she traced her finger over the scar once again and Faith rolled her eyes. She pushed Kara back down onto the floor and moved over her, straddling her hips. “So I was right, wasn’t I? Figured we had somethin’ in common.”
Faith leaned forward, her hair falling off her shoulders and brushing lightly over Kara’s breasts. “Come on, K. You don’t get somethin’ for nothin’.”
Kara shuddered slightly, still too spent to bother trying to move. Looking up into those dark eyes they no longer pinned her to the spot. The gaze no longer pierced her, leaving traces of the lieutenant there crawling and gnawing under her skin. “Fine,” she replied. “One question. That’s it.”
“Alright,” she said, tracing a finger over Kara’s cheek, down her neck, and between her breasts. “Your tags. Where’s the other one?”
And suddenly Kara found some strength she didn’t know she had and began to sit up, her hand pressing against Faith’s shoulder to move her away; she fought right back, pushing Kara down onto the floor, pinning her wrists down over her head. “Nuh-uh,” she said with a grin. “You’re not goin’ anywhere ‘til I get my answer, K.”
“I hate it when you call me that.”
“Dog tag. Where is it?”
Kara huffed a frustrated burst of air. “It’s on Caprica, alright?”
Faith’s lips curled into an amused smirk. “Did you just leave it behind last time you were on shore leave? Good job.” A quick series of giggles followed her words.
“Cut it out.” Kara was in no position to knee Faith, otherwise she would’ve. Clearly she was not satisfied with Kara’s answer, because she made no move to release her grip. Faith laughed again. Kara rolled her eyes. “I jumped back there.”
Faith’s eyes widened, “The frak would you do somethin’ like that f-”
“There are people back there-alive.” Kara wanted to go on, wanted to tell her about how they needed to go back, not because she wanted to tell her about it, but with the Admiral and the President refusing to listen to reason (wasn’t it their job to protect what was left of humanity?) she needed someone to believe her.
Faith was not that person. “And…?” She prompted.
Kara closed her eyes.
I’m coming back. I said it, I meant it.
“There was a guy.”
It seemed to be too much for Faith. She fell onto her side laughing, but finally relinquishing her grip on Kara.
“Shut up.” Kara growled, as she rubbed her wrists.
“Must’ve been a really good frak,” she managed to gasp out between fits of snorting laughs. “O-or was it love at first sight?” Faith clutched her arms around her stomach unable to contain herself. Glaring, Kara slammed a fist into Faith’s shoulder.
“He saved my ass down there,” she said pointedly. “I owe him, and the rest of the resistance, for that.”
“And you left your dog tag with him? What? You get all weepy telling him you’d come back for him?” Faith rubbed at the sore spot on her arm, she wasn’t laughing anymore but that stupid grin would not leave her face.
“Yeah, well it seemed like a good idea at the time,” she admitted.
“I dunno,” Faith said, sighing out the last of her amusement and sinking against her once again. “Seems like a lot of trouble for a one night stand or whatever.”
Kara almost laughed, the tiniest hint of a smile forming on her face as she rolled her eyes. “You’re a one night stand.”
“You suck at math," Faith replied, her voice low as she nipped at Kara's ear.
Kara punched her again, lightly this time, and they lay in silence for a little longer, every once in a while the lieutenant would make some sort of amused snort against Kara’s shoulder. Kara found the ink on Faith’s arm once again, studying the swirls a bit closer now, brushing her finger over the center, the one spot where they touched before curling away from each other. “Want, take, have. Right?”
“That’s the idea,” Faith said with a purr. “What do you want, K?”
“Right now?” To knock some frakking sense into the Old Man and Roslin. “A shower.” She slipped away from Faith, tugging on enough clothing to avoid drawing gawking eyes as she slipped out of the storage locker.