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Entry tags:
bsg fic: Dreaming of the Mountains We've Yet to Climb, Kara/Sam, PG13
Disclaimer: not mine
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
Set: during the Lost Year ofSexytimes New Caprica
Rating: er, PG13, mostly. Implied sex. Some bad words.
Notes: Hallo, kids. Nice to write you again in some non-angsty capacity.
Summary: Two month anniversaries are totally causes for introspection.
Dreaming of the Mountains We've Yet to Climb
by ALC Punk!
Kara was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, in front of a half-finished wall, when Sam found her. The sounds of New Caprica didn't really change as night fell, they just got louder. People shouting to each other, the few dogs that had survived barking at nothing, children shrieking as they ran from friends pretending to be 'cylons'.
"You believe this is supposed to be finished in a month?" Sam asked, leaning over the wall almost directly above her.
As an opening gambit for conversation, it lacked. Kara didn't even tilt her head up to roll her eyes at him, just continued watching the sun slowly sliding into the mountains in the distance.
Sam apparently took her silence for some sort of acquiescence, but he didn't say anything else.
"Have you ever wanted to explore them?" Kara said into the near-silence. Someone's kid shouted about guns and food, and then was hushed by an exasperated parent.
"Walls?"
Kara snorted, "Mountains. Those mountains," she gestured with her chin, then tipped her head back.
Now he was looking where she had been, gaze abstract and distant. "Yeah. I suggested we get a crew together to do it, but my colony rep wasn't too interested in the idea."
"Raptor scans say they're cold," Kara offered, as though that explained it.
Sam shrugged, "But that's not the same as going there."
No. It wasn't. Kara wondered cynically if conversations like this would mark her days now. She used to fly vipers, used to dash around among the stars. Yet here she was, pinned to the ground and watching the days slide past into nothing. Her only sources of entertainment were rot-gut alcohol and planning specious expeditions to mountains she'd never visit.
"Hey." Sam reached down and poked her shoulder, then waved something in her face.
Kara blinked. "Flowers?"
"Yep."
Wrinkling her nose, Kara tipped her head back and stared up at him, "What the frak for?"
"Nothin'," Sam said, suddenly cheerful. He dropped his pitiful bouquet onto her.
The flowers landed propped between Kara's breasts and her legs. She glared at them. "Sam."
"What?"
She grabbed the handful of wild things that were vaguely flowering, weeds probably. She wasn't a frakking botanist, and no one had named this new shit yet anyway. They smelled kinda nice, but Kara had never been much for flowers. "They stink," she lied.
"You're just picky." Sam shot back with a snort.
"Bullshit."
"Are too."
Kara rolled her eyes, then, and tossed the flowers back up at him, "Stop acting like you're five."
He caught them and suddenly disappeared.
Craning her neck, Kara considered standing to figure out what the hell he was doing, then decided against it. No skin off her nose if her idiot of a husband had fallen down by tripping over his precious flowers.
But now she was thoroughly distracted, and the thoughts of what she'd left behind slid away. She smacked a hand against the dirt, annoyed that she'd allowed herself to start thinking about that shit anyway. It was over and done with--what she'd said to Lee was true. Civilian flying just wasn't her style, not after the war. Patrols would just be boring, and there was a lot to be said for dirt under her fingers and blue sky above.
And mountains.
"We should go," she said, assuming Sam was still back there somewhere.
There was a scraping sound, and Kara looked up to find Sam boosted up onto the wall, a basket in one hand. "Go where?" He asked before he dropped the basket on top of her.
Kara swore as she caught it, her palms stinging and her body jolting from the impact, "Asshole."
He jumped down and grinned cheerfully at her, "I brought you food and booze, and that's all the thanks I get?"
Narrowing her eyes, Kara put the basket to one side, then kicked out at him, hands flat in the dirt for stability. "You want thanks, Anders?"
"Yeah," he danced easily out of her range, then returned and dropped down next to her.
Kara refrained from shoving an elbow into his ribs, because she actually sort of enjoyed being pressed up against his slightly dusty, very sweaty, body. "What were the flowers for?"
"Where are we going?" he asked at the same time.
They both laughed, Kara giggling and wondering what the frak was wrong with her as she nudged him with her elbow, "Talk fast."
He was silent again, body still. The laughter had chased itself off of his face, and Kara wanted to take her question back. Then he smiled a little, "It's been two months."
"Since when?"
The smile turned into a smirk, laughter dancing in his eyes as he bent to kiss the tip of her nose. "Since you dragged me still drunk down to the river and made me an honest man."
Oh. Kara shoved her elbow into his ribs and snorted, "And that's reason enough to assault me with flowers and baskets?"
"Yup."
"Asshole," she muttered.
He looped his arm over her shoulders, as though she'd said some endearment. Kara reflected that it was possible she had, but Sam didn't let the moment get too mushy. "So, where are we going, baby?"
"I'm hungry, what'd you bring me?"
A laugh shook him, and he shrugged, "You could just look."
"But that would take effort," Kara whined, relishing acting all of two for the moment. Soon enough, she reflected that she'd probably be acting her age and goading Sam into running naked back to their tent.
He heaved a sigh, then kissed her mouth while she was opening it to whine some more. Startled, Kara kissed him back, turning into him.
Between them, they shifted until Kara was straddling him. She preferred not getting a cramp in her neck while kissing, after all. Teasing his mouth, she slowly rolled her hips, teasing him through his clothing. "I want to go to the mountains," she said, teeth scraping down his neck.
"Climbing mount Sam ain't enough for you."
Kara stopped kissing his shoulder and drew back, staring at him. "Sam." Her voice was low, but deadly, "Please don't speak anymore. It's bad for your health."
"It is?"
"Yes." She leaned sideways and grabbed a rock, "The next stupid thing you say, I'll brain you."
He grinned and slid his hands up inside her shirt, "You will, huh?"
With his fingers tangling in her bra, Kara was finding herself distracted, but that didn't dissuade her from her point, "Yes," she managed, squirming a little when he pinched a nipple.
"Guess I'd better be quiet, then--only," he stopped and raised his eyebrows, "What mountains?"
"Over there," Kara pointed over her shoulder, then impatiently tugged at his shirt, "Stop stalling."
"You've still got a rock in your hand."
Kara stared at it, then tossed it to the side. There was a crunch as it landed in the basket, but she distracted both of them by yanking her shirt off. It was only later, after she'd gotten her shoulders burned by the sun and Sam was grumbling about the line of scratches on his sides that they discovered the broken bottle of rot-gut alcohol had drowned the sandwiches Sam had made.
So Sam blamed her and she blamed him, and they ended up chasing each other half-naked through the streets of New Caprica City.
It wasn't the last time they got a citation for public indecency.
Kara used the paper to start the fire a month later when they were halfway up one of the mountains. Someone had signed off on the expedition, and she didn't care who. She just enjoyed the freedom.
-f-
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
Set: during the Lost Year of
Rating: er, PG13, mostly. Implied sex. Some bad words.
Notes: Hallo, kids. Nice to write you again in some non-angsty capacity.
Summary: Two month anniversaries are totally causes for introspection.
Dreaming of the Mountains We've Yet to Climb
by ALC Punk!
Kara was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, in front of a half-finished wall, when Sam found her. The sounds of New Caprica didn't really change as night fell, they just got louder. People shouting to each other, the few dogs that had survived barking at nothing, children shrieking as they ran from friends pretending to be 'cylons'.
"You believe this is supposed to be finished in a month?" Sam asked, leaning over the wall almost directly above her.
As an opening gambit for conversation, it lacked. Kara didn't even tilt her head up to roll her eyes at him, just continued watching the sun slowly sliding into the mountains in the distance.
Sam apparently took her silence for some sort of acquiescence, but he didn't say anything else.
"Have you ever wanted to explore them?" Kara said into the near-silence. Someone's kid shouted about guns and food, and then was hushed by an exasperated parent.
"Walls?"
Kara snorted, "Mountains. Those mountains," she gestured with her chin, then tipped her head back.
Now he was looking where she had been, gaze abstract and distant. "Yeah. I suggested we get a crew together to do it, but my colony rep wasn't too interested in the idea."
"Raptor scans say they're cold," Kara offered, as though that explained it.
Sam shrugged, "But that's not the same as going there."
No. It wasn't. Kara wondered cynically if conversations like this would mark her days now. She used to fly vipers, used to dash around among the stars. Yet here she was, pinned to the ground and watching the days slide past into nothing. Her only sources of entertainment were rot-gut alcohol and planning specious expeditions to mountains she'd never visit.
"Hey." Sam reached down and poked her shoulder, then waved something in her face.
Kara blinked. "Flowers?"
"Yep."
Wrinkling her nose, Kara tipped her head back and stared up at him, "What the frak for?"
"Nothin'," Sam said, suddenly cheerful. He dropped his pitiful bouquet onto her.
The flowers landed propped between Kara's breasts and her legs. She glared at them. "Sam."
"What?"
She grabbed the handful of wild things that were vaguely flowering, weeds probably. She wasn't a frakking botanist, and no one had named this new shit yet anyway. They smelled kinda nice, but Kara had never been much for flowers. "They stink," she lied.
"You're just picky." Sam shot back with a snort.
"Bullshit."
"Are too."
Kara rolled her eyes, then, and tossed the flowers back up at him, "Stop acting like you're five."
He caught them and suddenly disappeared.
Craning her neck, Kara considered standing to figure out what the hell he was doing, then decided against it. No skin off her nose if her idiot of a husband had fallen down by tripping over his precious flowers.
But now she was thoroughly distracted, and the thoughts of what she'd left behind slid away. She smacked a hand against the dirt, annoyed that she'd allowed herself to start thinking about that shit anyway. It was over and done with--what she'd said to Lee was true. Civilian flying just wasn't her style, not after the war. Patrols would just be boring, and there was a lot to be said for dirt under her fingers and blue sky above.
And mountains.
"We should go," she said, assuming Sam was still back there somewhere.
There was a scraping sound, and Kara looked up to find Sam boosted up onto the wall, a basket in one hand. "Go where?" He asked before he dropped the basket on top of her.
Kara swore as she caught it, her palms stinging and her body jolting from the impact, "Asshole."
He jumped down and grinned cheerfully at her, "I brought you food and booze, and that's all the thanks I get?"
Narrowing her eyes, Kara put the basket to one side, then kicked out at him, hands flat in the dirt for stability. "You want thanks, Anders?"
"Yeah," he danced easily out of her range, then returned and dropped down next to her.
Kara refrained from shoving an elbow into his ribs, because she actually sort of enjoyed being pressed up against his slightly dusty, very sweaty, body. "What were the flowers for?"
"Where are we going?" he asked at the same time.
They both laughed, Kara giggling and wondering what the frak was wrong with her as she nudged him with her elbow, "Talk fast."
He was silent again, body still. The laughter had chased itself off of his face, and Kara wanted to take her question back. Then he smiled a little, "It's been two months."
"Since when?"
The smile turned into a smirk, laughter dancing in his eyes as he bent to kiss the tip of her nose. "Since you dragged me still drunk down to the river and made me an honest man."
Oh. Kara shoved her elbow into his ribs and snorted, "And that's reason enough to assault me with flowers and baskets?"
"Yup."
"Asshole," she muttered.
He looped his arm over her shoulders, as though she'd said some endearment. Kara reflected that it was possible she had, but Sam didn't let the moment get too mushy. "So, where are we going, baby?"
"I'm hungry, what'd you bring me?"
A laugh shook him, and he shrugged, "You could just look."
"But that would take effort," Kara whined, relishing acting all of two for the moment. Soon enough, she reflected that she'd probably be acting her age and goading Sam into running naked back to their tent.
He heaved a sigh, then kissed her mouth while she was opening it to whine some more. Startled, Kara kissed him back, turning into him.
Between them, they shifted until Kara was straddling him. She preferred not getting a cramp in her neck while kissing, after all. Teasing his mouth, she slowly rolled her hips, teasing him through his clothing. "I want to go to the mountains," she said, teeth scraping down his neck.
"Climbing mount Sam ain't enough for you."
Kara stopped kissing his shoulder and drew back, staring at him. "Sam." Her voice was low, but deadly, "Please don't speak anymore. It's bad for your health."
"It is?"
"Yes." She leaned sideways and grabbed a rock, "The next stupid thing you say, I'll brain you."
He grinned and slid his hands up inside her shirt, "You will, huh?"
With his fingers tangling in her bra, Kara was finding herself distracted, but that didn't dissuade her from her point, "Yes," she managed, squirming a little when he pinched a nipple.
"Guess I'd better be quiet, then--only," he stopped and raised his eyebrows, "What mountains?"
"Over there," Kara pointed over her shoulder, then impatiently tugged at his shirt, "Stop stalling."
"You've still got a rock in your hand."
Kara stared at it, then tossed it to the side. There was a crunch as it landed in the basket, but she distracted both of them by yanking her shirt off. It was only later, after she'd gotten her shoulders burned by the sun and Sam was grumbling about the line of scratches on his sides that they discovered the broken bottle of rot-gut alcohol had drowned the sandwiches Sam had made.
So Sam blamed her and she blamed him, and they ended up chasing each other half-naked through the streets of New Caprica City.
It wasn't the last time they got a citation for public indecency.
Kara used the paper to start the fire a month later when they were halfway up one of the mountains. Someone had signed off on the expedition, and she didn't care who. She just enjoyed the freedom.
-f-