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two ficlets: Kara/Sam, PGish
Revelations spoilers, vague future spec.
One was commentfic at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
prolix_allie's
Sometimes, it's all they can do to collapse in the same rack for four hours. Kara's CAG, and being awake and planning and scheduling is her number one priority. Sam is one of the steadier pilots, good with the newest crop, and also sometimes a bit flashy (not that Kara minds, except when she's standing on the deck in CIC, listening to the reports, her heart stuck in her mouth and Sam's voice calling cocksure replies that remind her a little too much of herself). Putting him out on CAP as often as possible (triple-shifts, now they're so low on pilots, sometimes), isn't because she's trying to get him killed, though.
They argue, sometimes. Loud, shouting fights that echo across the corridors and bounce down into the hangar deck until Tyrol comes up a ladders and shouts them both down. It's not really about anything. It's just little things (things she can be annoyed by, rather than running scared from what he is). He didn't pick up his socks, she stole his last pair of clean boxer-briefs (if he weren't so tired, he wouldn't complain about that).
The lack of sex is also getting to them. Between his shifts, her shifts, and the constant threat from the main bulk of the Cylons (who are once again determined to anihilate the last of the human race), they get so little time for sleep that the idea of sex is something that starts with a couple gropes and ends with them both sprawled in the rack, snoring before they're even undressed.
It's Caprica who figures it out. Four months pregnant, Tigh doting on her and she's changed from a prisoner to an advisor. Her tongue is as sharp as it used to be, and when Kara sees her one morning over the table in CIC, Caprica looks determined.
"You need a break, Captain."
Once upon a time, Starbuck would have walked away from her responsibilities at the drop of a hat, and for less than a box of cigars. Captain Thrace shrugs, "We all need one."
"You really need one," Caprica replies calmly. When Major Dualla arrives to discuss their next moves, Caprica convinces her that the Captain needs a day off. Objecting doesn't help and before the hour's up, Kara finds herself relieved of notes, schedules and responsibilities.
"I can see when I'm not wanted," she mutters as she stalks away from the command center of the fleet.
Getting back to the quarters that are little more than an office filled with papers and a tiny rack that barely fits two, Kara finds Sam sitting on her chair, poking through the latest flight rotation.
"What are you still doing here? Don't you have CAP in an hour?"
He looks up. "Not anymore, apparently." He looks confused, which is sort of adorable.
Kara decides she must be frakking wiped if she's thinking adjectives like that. "Fine. I've been relieved of duty for the day."
Frowning down at the papers, Sam stands. Then he starts pulling his shirts off.
"What are you doing?"
"If I'm stuck grounded, I might as well catch up on some sleep," he says, voice muffled a little by the shirts he's pulling over his head.
The idea isn't bad, even if Kara's pissed she didn't think of it herself. Unsnapping her tunic, she heads towards the closet, "You better not snore the whole time."
"Baby, I don't snore."
"Yeah, right."
He's laughing when he drops his boots next to her and gropes her ass, "You sure we're sleeping?"
Kara thinks about that, really thinks, and then she groans. "We're really sleeping. But afterwards, you better be ready to get worn out."
"Counting on it."
Shoving him back towards the bed and kicking off her boots, Kara snickers, "I should hope so."
#2 (this one was written in Allie's comments)
"So, uh, Sam."
He looks up from the patch he's sizing for the hole in 'Track's elbow. Someone lost a bet two nights before. "Yeah?"
Kara opens her mouth, closes it. Then opens it again and then... fidgets. It's the first clue Sam has that something is more wrong and out of the ordinary than normal. Kara never fidgets when she's nervous. "I'm pregnant."
"Ok--" he starts to say, his reply careful, because she's being careful.
"It's Tigh's."
"--what the frak?" he manages to get that out before his brain starts reeling. Kara and Tigh? What the hell?
"You remember I was pissed at you, after the whole not-telling-me you're a Cylon thing?" she asks, suddenly on firmer ground. There's still a little irritation in her eyes about that, too.
"Um... Yeah..." he says. Because he does remember it, and he thought they'd gotten past that.
"Well. He was pissed about something, too. And we... it just happened." With a shrug, Kara takes the chair across from him and tugs some of the patch stuff over to her side of the table. "You're seating that wrong, by the way. You have to do the interior first, to maintain pressure."
"Frak you," he mutters. Sam realizes a little too late what he said, and Kara's already laughing at him when he looks at her.
"Oh, Sammy." Pushing up, she slides around the table and gets into his personal space, close enough that if he backed his chair a little, she could sit on his lap. "So. You're not pissed?"
"Don't know yet," he mutters. Shoving Racetrack's suit to the side, he slides his chair back and pulls her down onto his lap. "It gonna happen again?"
"Sam." Leaning in she leans her forehead against his, "I didn't want to get pregnant in the first place, much less with a hybrid by the XO."
"You're just following the trend," he mocks, back on firmer ground, now.
"Asshole."
"Takes one to know one."
Kara chuckles and then sighs, "Cottle won't..."
"I know." Finally wrapping his arms around her, he kisses her cheek with a loud smack. "We're going to have to name it, you know."
"You're changing diapers."
Hiding his smile, Sam nuzzles the side of her neck, "And you'll have midnight feedings. Mama."
Kara stiffens a little. "And then I'll shoot you and space it," she mutters.
"Mhmm."
For several minutes, there is groping and kissing. Two nuggets stick their heads in, looking for the CAG, and back out just as fast. Eventually, Kara sighs and pulls away. "I have a class to teach, Longshot."
"So go teach," he says, his voice innocent in tone.
"It'd help me teach if you'd get your hand out from under my shirt, honey."
"Sorry, baby," he nips her shoulder, then stands, bringing her with him. "I have flight suits to mend, Captain Hot Stuff."
"That a hint?" Kara arches her brow and gropes the front of his pants, making him groan a little. With a grin, she backs away, "I expect you to be in my rack when I get home tonight, Ensign."
"Maybe I won't follow my orders. Sir."
"Oh, I think you will."
Kara reaches the hatch before Sam says, his voice soft, "You're off flight duty for nine months?"
"Cottle's first order." she acknowledges before leaving.
Sam stares after her a moment, then swears softly and sits down. There are gonna be a lot of unhappy pilots for the next year or so. Kara hated being off flight duty.
One was commentfic at
prolix_allie'sSometimes, it's all they can do to collapse in the same rack for four hours. Kara's CAG, and being awake and planning and scheduling is her number one priority. Sam is one of the steadier pilots, good with the newest crop, and also sometimes a bit flashy (not that Kara minds, except when she's standing on the deck in CIC, listening to the reports, her heart stuck in her mouth and Sam's voice calling cocksure replies that remind her a little too much of herself). Putting him out on CAP as often as possible (triple-shifts, now they're so low on pilots, sometimes), isn't because she's trying to get him killed, though.
They argue, sometimes. Loud, shouting fights that echo across the corridors and bounce down into the hangar deck until Tyrol comes up a ladders and shouts them both down. It's not really about anything. It's just little things (things she can be annoyed by, rather than running scared from what he is). He didn't pick up his socks, she stole his last pair of clean boxer-briefs (if he weren't so tired, he wouldn't complain about that).
The lack of sex is also getting to them. Between his shifts, her shifts, and the constant threat from the main bulk of the Cylons (who are once again determined to anihilate the last of the human race), they get so little time for sleep that the idea of sex is something that starts with a couple gropes and ends with them both sprawled in the rack, snoring before they're even undressed.
It's Caprica who figures it out. Four months pregnant, Tigh doting on her and she's changed from a prisoner to an advisor. Her tongue is as sharp as it used to be, and when Kara sees her one morning over the table in CIC, Caprica looks determined.
"You need a break, Captain."
Once upon a time, Starbuck would have walked away from her responsibilities at the drop of a hat, and for less than a box of cigars. Captain Thrace shrugs, "We all need one."
"You really need one," Caprica replies calmly. When Major Dualla arrives to discuss their next moves, Caprica convinces her that the Captain needs a day off. Objecting doesn't help and before the hour's up, Kara finds herself relieved of notes, schedules and responsibilities.
"I can see when I'm not wanted," she mutters as she stalks away from the command center of the fleet.
Getting back to the quarters that are little more than an office filled with papers and a tiny rack that barely fits two, Kara finds Sam sitting on her chair, poking through the latest flight rotation.
"What are you still doing here? Don't you have CAP in an hour?"
He looks up. "Not anymore, apparently." He looks confused, which is sort of adorable.
Kara decides she must be frakking wiped if she's thinking adjectives like that. "Fine. I've been relieved of duty for the day."
Frowning down at the papers, Sam stands. Then he starts pulling his shirts off.
"What are you doing?"
"If I'm stuck grounded, I might as well catch up on some sleep," he says, voice muffled a little by the shirts he's pulling over his head.
The idea isn't bad, even if Kara's pissed she didn't think of it herself. Unsnapping her tunic, she heads towards the closet, "You better not snore the whole time."
"Baby, I don't snore."
"Yeah, right."
He's laughing when he drops his boots next to her and gropes her ass, "You sure we're sleeping?"
Kara thinks about that, really thinks, and then she groans. "We're really sleeping. But afterwards, you better be ready to get worn out."
"Counting on it."
Shoving him back towards the bed and kicking off her boots, Kara snickers, "I should hope so."
#2 (this one was written in Allie's comments)
"So, uh, Sam."
He looks up from the patch he's sizing for the hole in 'Track's elbow. Someone lost a bet two nights before. "Yeah?"
Kara opens her mouth, closes it. Then opens it again and then... fidgets. It's the first clue Sam has that something is more wrong and out of the ordinary than normal. Kara never fidgets when she's nervous. "I'm pregnant."
"Ok--" he starts to say, his reply careful, because she's being careful.
"It's Tigh's."
"--what the frak?" he manages to get that out before his brain starts reeling. Kara and Tigh? What the hell?
"You remember I was pissed at you, after the whole not-telling-me you're a Cylon thing?" she asks, suddenly on firmer ground. There's still a little irritation in her eyes about that, too.
"Um... Yeah..." he says. Because he does remember it, and he thought they'd gotten past that.
"Well. He was pissed about something, too. And we... it just happened." With a shrug, Kara takes the chair across from him and tugs some of the patch stuff over to her side of the table. "You're seating that wrong, by the way. You have to do the interior first, to maintain pressure."
"Frak you," he mutters. Sam realizes a little too late what he said, and Kara's already laughing at him when he looks at her.
"Oh, Sammy." Pushing up, she slides around the table and gets into his personal space, close enough that if he backed his chair a little, she could sit on his lap. "So. You're not pissed?"
"Don't know yet," he mutters. Shoving Racetrack's suit to the side, he slides his chair back and pulls her down onto his lap. "It gonna happen again?"
"Sam." Leaning in she leans her forehead against his, "I didn't want to get pregnant in the first place, much less with a hybrid by the XO."
"You're just following the trend," he mocks, back on firmer ground, now.
"Asshole."
"Takes one to know one."
Kara chuckles and then sighs, "Cottle won't..."
"I know." Finally wrapping his arms around her, he kisses her cheek with a loud smack. "We're going to have to name it, you know."
"You're changing diapers."
Hiding his smile, Sam nuzzles the side of her neck, "And you'll have midnight feedings. Mama."
Kara stiffens a little. "And then I'll shoot you and space it," she mutters.
"Mhmm."
For several minutes, there is groping and kissing. Two nuggets stick their heads in, looking for the CAG, and back out just as fast. Eventually, Kara sighs and pulls away. "I have a class to teach, Longshot."
"So go teach," he says, his voice innocent in tone.
"It'd help me teach if you'd get your hand out from under my shirt, honey."
"Sorry, baby," he nips her shoulder, then stands, bringing her with him. "I have flight suits to mend, Captain Hot Stuff."
"That a hint?" Kara arches her brow and gropes the front of his pants, making him groan a little. With a grin, she backs away, "I expect you to be in my rack when I get home tonight, Ensign."
"Maybe I won't follow my orders. Sir."
"Oh, I think you will."
Kara reaches the hatch before Sam says, his voice soft, "You're off flight duty for nine months?"
"Cottle's first order." she acknowledges before leaving.
Sam stares after her a moment, then swears softly and sits down. There are gonna be a lot of unhappy pilots for the next year or so. Kara hated being off flight duty.
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I'M WITH YOU SAM. *blinks* *world eventually settles back in its normal configuration* Kara/Tigh is sorta scary in concept.
But the rest is cute!
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Thank you =)
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And aw, the second one. I like Kara fighting with Sam over everything to avoid fighting with him about the More Pertinent Issue.
Between his shifts, her shifts, and the constant threat from the main bulk of the Cylons (who are once again determined to anihilate the last of the human race), they get so little time for sleep that the idea of sex is something that starts with a couple gropes and ends with them both sprawled in the rack, snoring before they're even undressed.
Hee! And awww.
"I should hope so."
<3
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YES. Because they would. And they'd eventually get to arguing about the big one, but doing so during a crisis is possibly a bad plan. Or maybe it would happen while they're in the midst of a bad space battle, or something.
Thank you =)
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