lyssie: (kara anders porn happens)
lyssie ([personal profile] lyssie) wrote2009-06-26 11:24 pm

fic: BSG, Belly Up, Kara/Sam, R

disclaimer: not mine
rating: R, seeeex
genre: AU
length: 1500+
pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
prompt: Kara/Sam, Wild West AU
notes: written for the [ profile] bsg_pornbattle, this is a future moment in the same AU as Boots on the Floor and Brick Dust and Bells

Belly Up
by ALC Punk!

She rode into town looking dusty and tired, though her head was high and her gaze was steady. Sam Anders, stretching his legs outside his office and sharing a smoke with Miz Roslin watched her stop at Adama's Saloon, knowing she was gonna be trouble and wondering if he had time to finish his smoke or not.

"Somethin' botherin' you, Sheriff?" Miz Roslin asked, taking the cheroot back from him and giving it a long, loving, suck.

"Could say that," he acknowledged before heaving a sigh as Aaron Doral, the piano player, came skittering out of the still-swinging doors of Adama's. "You hold that thought, Miz Roslin. I'm about to have work to do."

Stepping off the boardwalk, Sam nodded to Doral as he slunk past, "Never seen you move that quick before, man."

"I just gotta," the ex-felon muttered, hunching his shoulders and eyeing Miz Roslin a moment before he headed on past the jail.

With a slight grin on his face, Sam stepped up into the saloon, eyes adjusting after a moment. The woman was at the bar, half-sitting on one of Cally's stools, leaning forward, givin' the bartender words.

For her part, Miz Cally looked unimpressed, though she did turn away and pull a beer for the customer after a moment.

"There a reason you scared off, Miz Cally's piano player?" Sam asked, his words a slow drawl as he leaned his hip up against the polished oak of the bar.

Her head turned and she looked at him, brown eyes darkening with something as they took in his badge. She tipped him a slight grin. "Didn't like what he was playing." Her hand closed around the mug of beer and she nodded at his star, "Didn't think they let idiots be sheriff 'round here, neither."

Amused, he felt his smile turn genuine, "You didn't complain about my brains the last time we met."

"You weren't wearin' a stupid badge, last time," she shot back, picking up the mug and downing a large swallow.

"Sheriff. There somethin' I can get you?" Miz Cally was bein' polite, though her eyes were obviously watching their every movement. Gossip mill was probably jawin' away with the sheriff's interest in the newcomer. Small towns were like that.

Was why he'd enjoyed moving here. Man like him needed a place to feel like home, and Delphi did. Didn't matter that he didn't come from the area, most everyone accepted him as the new sheriff, up to Adama himself. The old coot even recommended Sam for a medal after the Biers business.

Sam shook his head, "Nah, but thanks, Cally. I'm still on the job."

Setting her glass down, his adversary stood up, "See you turned into a real straight since we last met, too." She almost sounded disapproving.

"Law-abiding," Sam corrected, reaching out and snagging her hand. "And I got a bone to pick with you, bounty hunter. So why don't you step along to my office and we can clear this matter right up?"

Her eyebrows went up, but she didn't pull the gun at her side, and she didn't resist him as he started for the swinging doors again.

The dust in the street kicked up in the wind as he led her towards his office, releasing her wrist before they stepped off the steps at Adama's. She'd follow him. And if she didn't, he'd use the excuse to handcuff her. For all he knew, she might like that kind of thing (he'd have to suggest it one day).

He was almost disappointed when he turned to find her tying her horse to the railing in front of his office. "Smart move. Could take a while, our discussion."

"I hope so--" she might have winked at him as she moved past, too close and brushing up against his body with hers.

Damn. She still did things to his brain that made it start to shut down--Sam kicked his door closed and reached over, yanking at the shades to pull them down before he suddenly found her backing him into the door, all dusty and sweaty and smelling of ale and horse.

Not really attractive, but he could ignore the smells for the way she kissed him.

"Gods--" she gasped the word as she pulled her mouth free of his.

Sam stopped her from saying anything else, tongue sliding against hers while his hands started tugging at her, pulling her shirt free of her pants, skimming up underneath and cupping her breasts. Gods, he'd always loved her breasts.

Breaking away from him, she yanked his gun from its holster, tossing it on a shelf while she worked at his belt. "What would the townspeople say if they could see you now?" she asked, voice mocking as her hand pulled at his belt, sliding it free of the loops and holster, which dropped to the floor with a thunk.

"Don't care--" Sam grabbed her wrists, turning them and pinning her face-first to the door while he unbuttoned her shirt, feeling her shift and press into his hands.

Muttering curses, she glared over her shoulder at him, but didn't really try to free herself.

He took his time sliding the material off her shoulders, mouth trailing it, before moving back to suck at the sweet spot on her neck while his fingers teased her breasts and the skin still covered by her chemise.

"Sheriff," she growled, arching back into him.

"I could arrest you."

She laughed, shoving against the door and getting enough space to slide away from him. Kicking her boots off, she stalked towards his desk, hands already shoving his papers to the floor before he had a chance to open his mouth. Looking over her shoulder at him, she replied: "Could be fun. Maybe next time--" she shoved her pants and delicate under-things down her legs, turning and sliding up onto his desk.

Gods. Sam swallowed and leaned against the door, wondering if the image of her mostly naked and smirking at him from his desk would stay with him for a while.


Pushing off, he yanked his shirt free and unfastened his pants.

She reached for his arms, pulling him up against her while his fingers fumbled between them until he was free.

"Frak, you're taking your time--" her hiss of pleasure was lost in his mouth as he thrust into her, hand at the back of her neck to hold her steady.

It wasn't routine, though it could have been.

"More," she growled against his throat, nails digging into his side under his shirt.

He had a vague memory of her pulling it open so she could touch him, suggesting he get a better tailor when one button went flying, but he decided he didn't care. Following her order, he reached for her leg, pulling her tighter against him.

"Gods--" Kara grabbed his hand, hooking it under her knee, "--up."

Complying, he tugged her leg higher, sliding in deeper as she twisted a little, letting out a sweet little sound that he hadn't heard in a while.

Again he pulled out, then thrust back in, working back up to a steady stride as she grabbed his open collar, dragging him back down, mouth urgent against his.

He had to hold onto the desk as she climaxed, writhing beneath him and almost slipping off the edge before he could catch her, pressing her down onto the surface and banging her head on book that she'd missed in her earlier sweep.

"Ow. Frakker," she panted, one leg still locked around his waist.

Sam tugged her leg even higher and slid deeper, holding himself still for the moment, "Complaining?"

The sound she made wasn't a language he recognized, but he knew what she meant, and started moving again, free hand back to stroking her side and breasts, teasing one of the hard nipples until she reached behind herself and pulled the book free, throwing it at him.

Dodging while keeping his rhythm was hard, but he managed it, "What?"


Grabbing her hand, he complied, driving himself into her until she was shuddering beneath him again, fingers tightening around his.

The gesture was almost gentle, and Sam found it as intoxicating as her earlier cries; he pulled her up, claiming her mouth as he followed her over the edge this time, going limp against her and the desk as his body slowly relaxed.

"Mmm." Kara kissed his neck, sucking on his pulse for a moment. "Nice, Sam. Very nice."

"Just nice?" Laughing, he dropped her leg and sagged backwards, falling into his chair with a thunk of sweat-soaked flesh.

Kara slid off the desk and followed him, legs straddling his as she draped herself against his chest. "More than nice," she amended, reaching between them to stroke her fingers against him. "Pity it's so short-lived."

"You'll kill me," he suggested, groaning and grabbing her hands to keep her from doing anything worse to him.

She twisted her wrists and freed herself, sliding her fingers up his arms, turning her head to look at the dark blue ink lining his upper arm. "I haven't yet," she murmured, pressing her mouth to his shoulder.

"No, I guess you haven't." Turning his hand, he traced the echoing lines on her arm, then settled back in the chair, trying to breathe properly.

They'd come looking for him eventually, and it probably wouldn't do for the mostly-new sheriff to be found naked and straddled by a bounty hunter. He just couldn't quite work up the energy to care yet. Soon, maybe.

Besides, Kara wasn't much into cuddling, and she seemed content to stay where she was. Possibly hoping to get him into trouble with the townspeople, though he figured they'd have to agree saying hello to his wife was more than acceptable.

Just probably not with his method of greeting. Kara, of course, didn't object.