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Entry tags:
BSG Fic: It Costs Nothing But Change, Kara/Sam, PG
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Kara/Sam
Set: Six of One
Length: 1000
Rating: PG, harsh language, violence
Notes: I... this was actually from notes that I wrote a bit after Crossroads, and it was just a fragment that went nowhere until I got some added inspiration. Writing Kara and Sam during this section of their history isn't exactly fun. Mostly. title from Sia's 'Brand New Day'
It Costs Nothing But Change
by ALC Punk!
There's a bruise on Sam's cheek, and something cold in his stare as he looks through the bars at her. Kara doesn't know when he first got to the brig (is a little disappointed she missed him arguing with the guards, though maybe they thought he'd cap the Cylon for them) she was busy pacing, head down, feeling that tug to Earth in her gut we're going the wrong way.
Nothing she said was stopping them, nothing she did...
A sound drew her around to face him. For a moment, Kara doesn't even see him, she just sees the past (too many people, the pull of Earth, the President needed to be stopped) She remembers cold-cocking him, like it was someone else doing it.
Kara feels her hands shake when she clutches at the bars as she moves to stand opposite him.
The first words out of his mouth aren't encouraging. "You're not my wife."
Like a punch to the gut, the words sting hard, and Kara almost steps back. She hates that feeling, hates that he can make her feel it. Her voice is harsh when she replies. "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 wide, so it displays her bare shoulder, the top of her tattoo. "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. And after all his big frakking words to her. She lashes back. "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 looks at her for a moment longer, his eyes blank. Kara wants to throw his words back in his face, but the bruise on his cheek says she doesn't have the right. Instead, she 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. There's a charge in the air, electricity snapping between them where his hands grab for hers.
For a moment, it's the hallway all over again, and Kara's staring wide-eyed while he kneels in front of her ...I love you... The memory spurs her to shove him back a step.
This, is a better outlet than screaming, and that harsh pull towards Earth is settling a little.
Kara trips Sam up, and 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 against him, then letting go. Leaving it up to her, now that she's not swinging anymore.
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 just 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. She can't help but drop her head a little, almost closing her eyes like she can pretend this isn't where they are.
"They'll be in to kick me out soon, I'm sure." He's sarcastic, but there's a blurry edge to his voice, as though he's mostly going through the motions. "Kara, I'm sorry," he whispers. He doesn't add I love you, but he doesn't have to.
Neither does she.
"Good." She mumbles. But her hand slides down his arm and finds his, their fingers linking. Kara doesn't want to think about how warm she is, pressed up against Sam. About how she wants to turn and trace her fingers along his jaw (or have him strip her and map the lines of her skin, proving she's the same woman and not in a new skin)
They don't say anything else, and Kara concentrates on Earth, on trying to think up new strategies to convince Adama we need to go back. Her mind drifts, the pull feeling different, though she doesn't think about that, either.
She's almost asleep when her guards come in and remove him. Neither of them objects.
-f-
Pairing: Kara/Sam
Set: Six of One
Length: 1000
Rating: PG, harsh language, violence
Notes: I... this was actually from notes that I wrote a bit after Crossroads, and it was just a fragment that went nowhere until I got some added inspiration. Writing Kara and Sam during this section of their history isn't exactly fun. Mostly. title from Sia's 'Brand New Day'
It Costs Nothing But Change
by ALC Punk!
There's a bruise on Sam's cheek, and something cold in his stare as he looks through the bars at her. Kara doesn't know when he first got to the brig (is a little disappointed she missed him arguing with the guards, though maybe they thought he'd cap the Cylon for them) she was busy pacing, head down, feeling that tug to Earth in her gut we're going the wrong way.
Nothing she said was stopping them, nothing she did...
A sound drew her around to face him. For a moment, Kara doesn't even see him, she just sees the past (too many people, the pull of Earth, the President needed to be stopped) She remembers cold-cocking him, like it was someone else doing it.
Kara feels her hands shake when she clutches at the bars as she moves to stand opposite him.
The first words out of his mouth aren't encouraging. "You're not my wife."
Like a punch to the gut, the words sting hard, and Kara almost steps back. She hates that feeling, hates that he can make her feel it. Her voice is harsh when she replies. "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 wide, so it displays her bare shoulder, the top of her tattoo. "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. And after all his big frakking words to her. She lashes back. "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 looks at her for a moment longer, his eyes blank. Kara wants to throw his words back in his face, but the bruise on his cheek says she doesn't have the right. Instead, she 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. There's a charge in the air, electricity snapping between them where his hands grab for hers.
For a moment, it's the hallway all over again, and Kara's staring wide-eyed while he kneels in front of her ...I love you... The memory spurs her to shove him back a step.
This, is a better outlet than screaming, and that harsh pull towards Earth is settling a little.
Kara trips Sam up, and 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 against him, then letting go. Leaving it up to her, now that she's not swinging anymore.
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 just 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. She can't help but drop her head a little, almost closing her eyes like she can pretend this isn't where they are.
"They'll be in to kick me out soon, I'm sure." He's sarcastic, but there's a blurry edge to his voice, as though he's mostly going through the motions. "Kara, I'm sorry," he whispers. He doesn't add I love you, but he doesn't have to.
Neither does she.
"Good." She mumbles. But her hand slides down his arm and finds his, their fingers linking. Kara doesn't want to think about how warm she is, pressed up against Sam. About how she wants to turn and trace her fingers along his jaw (or have him strip her and map the lines of her skin, proving she's the same woman and not in a new skin)
They don't say anything else, and Kara concentrates on Earth, on trying to think up new strategies to convince Adama we need to go back. Her mind drifts, the pull feeling different, though she doesn't think about that, either.
She's almost asleep when her guards come in and remove him. Neither of them objects.
-f-
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THIS IS NOW PART OF MY PERSONAL CANON.
no subject
I cannot believe they managed snuggling at the end.Thank you =D