random kara/anders

[lyssie]

Let's see how well I can type on lavendar_menace's laptop without getting annoyed by the keys.

assume there might be spoilers all the way through to season four.

"You're not my wife."

Kara looks up at him, watching her through the glass. She hates that there's a speaker so she has to hear him. "What's that make me, then?"

No answer for a moment, and then he laughs almost harshly, "Nothing."

"Fine. Then you're not my husband." She yanks the sweatshirt neck, so it displays her bare arm. "And I don't need to worry about this."

"Did you ever?"

"Frak you."

"Been there. Done that. Maybe I should get a medal."

Kara wants to think that the anger isn't really at her, but she knows better. She's like a poison, seeping into a person and destroying. Her mother had said it, Adama had said it, and now Sam was. Not verbally, maybe, but she wasn't stupid. "A big frakking bronze one. We could shove it up your ass."

"Do I get lube?"

"No."

"Great."

"Why are you here, Sam?"

"Wanted to see the freak show."

"You've seen it. Frak off."

Sam just drops the phone and goes. Kara gestures rudely, then goes to flop on the bed, wondering why the frak he had to come here to see her and why the frak she's letting him get to her. Maybe it's that everyone seems suspicious of her. Lee told her she'd died. She doesn't remember that. She just remembers Earth. Standing on the top of a mountain, laughing for no reason whatsoever. In her viper, on her way back to the fleet, she'd been so certain of her mission.

Now she's not sure what happened. She's not a Cylon, Kara's certain of that. But she's not sure that she really survived her 'death' as herself. There are parts of her that feel different.

There's a clank, and the door opens, pulling her from her thoughts and onto her feet, away from the bed.

It's Sam. Kara registers that before he moves, crossing the space between them almost too fast for her eyes to follow. "What the frak--"

His hands are hot when he cups her face, eyes studying her as if he can discern some truth just by staring.

Kara slaps them away, backing up. "Sam, what--"

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

There's anger when he grabs her, anger and something she's not sure she can place. But there's anger in her, too, and she bites his lip when he goes to kiss her.

"Frak!"

"I am not a Cylon, and you don't get to manhandle me," Kara snaps, breaking free of his grasp before punching him in the gut.

He doubles over, gasping before a growl escapes him. His arms wrap around her waist, and he pulls her off her feet. Kara struggles, but he's bigger, and more pissed than she is. Or maybe she's just enjoying the fact that this is Sam, and he's not dead.

They crash into the bed, Sam heavy on top of her.

"Frak. Get off me, you asshole."

That laugh escapes him again, and then his grip changes, and he shifts onto his side, pulling her tight against him.

Kara finds herself snuggling up against his chest and pokes him, trying to maintain her image.

"You're not a freak."

"Ass."

"Scathing," he mocks, hand stroking her side before he lets out a sigh.

"Where are my gods-damn guards to throw you out?"

"Call 'em."

She tenses, intending to do that. A deep breath in and she can smell Sam, and, FRAK, she missed this. She missed this even while feeling sunlight and wind on her skin.

"They'll be in to kick me out soon, I'm sure."

"Good." She mumbles. But her hand slides down his arm and finds his, their fingers linking.

She's almost asleep when her guards come in and remove him. Neither of them objects.

-f-