fic: BSG, Kara/Sam fluff, Stick-Figure Theatre, as Painted by Kara Thrace.

[lyssie]

disclaimer: not mine
pairing: Kara/Sam
set: New Caprica.
spoilers: for season 2.
rating: PG13, adult situations, language. Fading to black.
length: barely 1000
notes: rhi_silverflame quite possibly doesn't remember the conversation where she said, "Were they naughty stick figures? Or is he complaining because they're not?" to me... But it sort of inspired this fic.

This is written to off-set all of the recent angst. Sheesh, you guys.

Stick-Figure Theatre, as Painted by Kara Thrace. Medium: acrylic and Sam's chest.
by ALC Punk!

"Cold." Sam announced. He squirmed as Kara slapped a hand onto his chest. The paint on it spattered, some of it oozing down his skin. Outside, people hurried to get home before the night got too dark and cold. Inside... Kara was painting him. For no reason that he could discern other than that he'd been stupid enough to take his shirt off before trying to grope her.

"Whimp."

Sucking in a breath, Sam held it until she was done painting... something on his chest. Then he huffed it out and looked down, "There are stick figures on my chest."

"Are you mocking my art, Samuel?"

"I am." He replied, tone grave.

His wife narrowed her eyes and studied him, her arms out. "Obviously, you're not a connoissuer."

"Oooh, big word." Gesturing and striking a pose, Sam said, tone smug, "Anyway. It's hard to improve on perfection."

Kara sputtered, then snickered at him. "Perfection? Is that what you think? Oh, honey, I'm pretty sure I can find something better and more suited to my needs in ten minutes."

"Yeah?" Advancing on his wife, Sam almost caught her by surprise.

But she was a little too quick to realize his intentions, and danced backwards, snickering, "Yeah. And don't touch me! You're covered in paint!"

"I'm a work of art. Obviously."

Another snicker escaped her and she grabbed the pallette and waved it at him. "You should be glad I didn't put on rainbows and puppies, or something inane."

"Oh no, puppies," Sam said, voice mock-worried. "How would my reputation stand it?"

"I don't think it would, Sam. You'd be a pyramid player. With puppies on his chest."

"But I'd be the only one," Sam pointed out, creeping stealthily closer.

Kara dodged around their bed and snorted, "Like that would matter. You wouldn't be unique, you'd just be a fruitcake."

"That," he informed her, "Is what everyone said when I told them I'd married Starbuck."

"HAH!" Kara scoffed. "Like they'd even give you the time of day."

"Hello." Spreading his arms, Sam smirked, "Pyramid player, baby. Everyone wants a piece of me."

"Think I could charge 'em and make a buck?"

"No."

"You'd be surprised, Sam. I bet I could. A cubit for looking, maybe ten to touch?"

The only reason he didn't tackle her was that she was smirking. Sam snorted, "Twenty. And I could do the same you know. Ten cubits to look at the famous Starbuck."

"Nah. Most people don't know, or care, about me." She waved a hand, "But a washed-up pyramid player?"

"I am not washed-up."

"Don't see anyone payin' you to play, Sammy."

Oh. That did it. Sam leaped over the bed and caught her by the waist. "Don't call me Sammy."

She wriggled in his arms, smirking up at him. "Make me."

"I'm thinking about it," he murmured, staring down at her, and watching her eyes slowly get darker.

"Are you sure that's what you're doing?" She mocked, before she poked him. "You got paint on me, by the way."

"I noticed." Sam sighed and released her, stepping back to stare down at his now-smudged chest, "You know, Kara, if you absolutely had to do that, the least you could do was make them pornographic."

She sputtered with laughter for a moment, then sobered and demanded, "You're not serious?"

"I am totally serious. Stick-figures. Having sex on my chest, Kara. How hard could that be?"

"Stick figures are sexless, Sam." Kara objected.

"Oh, c'mon, are you telling me you can't make them have sex?" Sam's eyebrow raised, and his voice was filled with doubt, "And here I thought you were a great artist."

Those were fighting words. Kara's eyes narrowed, "You gonna hold still, or should I tie you down?"

"Oh, I can hold still," Sam assured her, his voice growing huskier.

Kara snickered, "Better be able to back that claim up, baby." She reached out and stroked the front of his pants.

Tightening his muscles, Sam did his best not to flinch, "That a challenge?"

"Mmm. Let's see if you're as good as your word--" Kara pulled away and grabbed the black pot of paint, setting it on the slightly tilted table she hadn't gotten around to fixing. Dipping a finger in it, she reached her free hand down, lightly brushing her fingers over him. "--hold still, baby."

Gods. Sam swallowed and held still, fighting the urge to press up against her fingers. Her paint-covered finger stroked lines on his chest. His wife was evil, that was the only word for her, Sam decided ten seconds later. Evil and hot. And she made life on New Caprica livable, Sam admitted to himself. If she weren't there, he'd be getting by, but it wouldn't be so fun an existence.

He concentrated on listening to the sounds outside their tent, to anything but the smell of Kara's skin, of the paint. Anything but the little smirk on her lips and the pressure of her fingers on his skin.

A laugh bubbled up from her as she finished a stroke, then leaned in, pressing down on him though his pants. "Tryin' so hard, Sam. What're you doing, counting insects? Thinking of cold showers?" She licked his neck, then sucked on his earlobe lightly, "Digging latrines, Sam. That's the ticket."

"You're getting paint on your clothes again," he said.

"Ditches. Planting things--"

Sam grabbed for her hands, pulling her up against his chest again, "Planting things, huh? That before or after I drag you into the nearest thicket and have my way with you?"

Laughing, Kara reached up and painted lines on his cheek. "Think you'll be able to catch me?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Mmm. Arrogant." She licked his neck again, then kissed his mouth, "Good thing I'm smarter."

"Are the stick figures having sex yet?"

Kara shoved at his shoulders, pushing him back towards their bed as she reached down to start on his pants. "Don't know. They will be soon, though."

-f-