![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
newfic: The morning after, 13+
Disclaimer: not mine. Rating: 13+ vague sex references.
Pairing: Kara/Sam Anders
Set: LYDB2. SPOILERS. duh. ish.
Notes: I don't remember who was originally to blame for this. Possibly![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
musicforcylons, rhi_silverflame and starbuck042786. And I also blame greycoupon for the pornyish bits that made it in.
The morning after
by ALC Punk!
Morning shouldn't be allowed to exist. Sam Anders was pretty sure of this, even as he buried his head in the pillow and tried to ignore the aching in his head. The taste in his mouth told him he'd had way more than one too many. A flash of memory touched him: Kara, in a grey dress, looking goofily at him.
The memory didn't help the death-warmed-over feeling. It didn't even give him a frakking clue as to why he felt like he'd gone ten rounds with the marine sergeant. He ached. Bruises, scratches, and a rib actually twinged when he took a slightly deeper breath. Muscles he'd only ever felt after a particularly long game of pyramid informed him that it was high time they decamped for a better climate.
Something that could not be sunlight was shining down on them. He finally located the source as a bedside lamp.
When the hell did they get a bedside anything?
The room, once he'd opened both eyes, was ornate. And a bit messy. The dress Kara had been wearing was crumpled on the floor. Some frilly, fluffy thing was half-draped on a chair. The floor itself was covered in what looked to be wine-red pile, complement by cream walls and a dark blue boarder around doors and accenting the shelves.
Some mad decorator had apparently decided to adorn the pilots' quarters. Except it wasn't the pilots' quarters. Sam rubbed a hand over his face and stared at the room some more, as if it would explain itself to him.
When it didn't, he nudged the woman sleeping next to him.
This was, quite possibly, a bad idea. Especially given the elbow she shoved into his chest.
"Ow." Rubbing the spot, he decided to try a different tactic, and cast around the room looking for something to annoy her with.
That was when he spotted the card.
It was cheesy.
But the message on it was rather perfectly clear. He gaped, and for a moment, was sure he'd entered some strange dimension.
Clearly, he'd had too much to drink.
"D'you remember getting married?"
"Huh?"
Moving closer, he was glad to note she hadn't gotten her elbow out again. "We're married."
One eye popped open, revealing a very confused look. It went well with the crusted blue frosting in her hair. "What?"
Sam happily groped Kara, she was warm and accessible and right there. Made it easy to stroke a finger under one breast and feel her tense and breathe. "We're married," he repeated.
"We are?" She squinted, and he could see the tinge of alcohol in her eyes.
"Yup." He kissed her nose and tugged her closer. Obviously, this could require more groping. Possibly even some licking and sucking. Even if his head was pounding in time to his heartbeat.
"Gods..." She growled and closed her eyes with a wince of pain. "Do you have to be so bright?"
"I'm happy." And willing. Keeping the slight tone of hurt from his voice was a little hard, especially this early in the morning. Really, she didn't have to sound like being married to him was the worst thing that could have happened to her.
"I'm happy, too. Really."
He decided to be magnanimous. "Except for the being hung-over part."
Kara opened one eye and glared. "And the not being able to remember part."
"Well..." He felt a little uncertain, flashes of memory teasing him just at the edge of thought. Kara, with her head tipped back and laughing, the priest, Adama beaming with pride at her... "I'm not sure I remember, either."
"Then what makes you--?"
He held up the card that had been on the bedside table when he woke. The bright blue color didn't bear thinking about, though the curly, purple script was rather cute. Sort of. "Congratulations, Kara and Sam Anders. May you have all of the love--"
Kara clapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified. "Gods. Go back to sleep."
"Is this a nightmare?" Now he was the one being an ass. He could blame the hangover. Or maybe the lack of morning sex. But then, a bad headache rather precluded morning sex. And sex didn't (generally) heal headaches.
"No."
"Good." He kissed her nose again and dropped the card before closing his eyes. He needed to stop with the nose-kissing. It was too cutesy, and possibly annoying her. Though she hadn't smacked him for it yet.
They were both silent for a time, Sam trying to recall what he could. The idea of not being able to remember hearing Kara say her vows (much less his own) grated. If only because he'd like to be able to tease her about being girly. If she'd been girly. Had she even had a traditional bouquet of flowers?
Abruptly, Kara poked him. "You hit me with cake."
"That explains the icing in your hair." Sam didn't bother opening his eyes. He had been wondering. Just her saying it unlocked the memory of her surprised yelp when he'd happily smashed the piece of cake on her head. Really, they were all of five, sometimes.
"I'll get you back." She promised.
Considering what she considered revenge, Sam rather wondered if he'd survive. Of course, he'd die a very happy man. "Hope so."
Kara casually slid her arm around his waist. "I can't believe I can't remember my own wedding."
Mumbling, almost asleep, he replied, "Makes two of us." Falling asleep was easy, because Kara was there, and the cylons weren't. No one was trying to kill him, no one was telling him he hadn't trained enough, and no one was nagging him about his diet. Plus, he suddenly had the memory of kissing Kara for rather too long in front of enough people to fill Galactica's hangar deck.
The wolf whistles had been worth it. He dropped into sleep with a slightly contented smirk on his lips.
As if sensing this, Kara opened one eye and inspected his lips. "You suck." Kara informed the room in general, then joined her (apparently) newly-minted husband in sleep.
-f
Pairing: Kara/Sam Anders
Set: LYDB2. SPOILERS. duh. ish.
Notes: I don't remember who was originally to blame for this. Possibly
musicforcylons, rhi_silverflame and starbuck042786. And I also blame greycoupon for the pornyish bits that made it in.The morning after
by ALC Punk!
Morning shouldn't be allowed to exist. Sam Anders was pretty sure of this, even as he buried his head in the pillow and tried to ignore the aching in his head. The taste in his mouth told him he'd had way more than one too many. A flash of memory touched him: Kara, in a grey dress, looking goofily at him.
The memory didn't help the death-warmed-over feeling. It didn't even give him a frakking clue as to why he felt like he'd gone ten rounds with the marine sergeant. He ached. Bruises, scratches, and a rib actually twinged when he took a slightly deeper breath. Muscles he'd only ever felt after a particularly long game of pyramid informed him that it was high time they decamped for a better climate.
Something that could not be sunlight was shining down on them. He finally located the source as a bedside lamp.
When the hell did they get a bedside anything?
The room, once he'd opened both eyes, was ornate. And a bit messy. The dress Kara had been wearing was crumpled on the floor. Some frilly, fluffy thing was half-draped on a chair. The floor itself was covered in what looked to be wine-red pile, complement by cream walls and a dark blue boarder around doors and accenting the shelves.
Some mad decorator had apparently decided to adorn the pilots' quarters. Except it wasn't the pilots' quarters. Sam rubbed a hand over his face and stared at the room some more, as if it would explain itself to him.
When it didn't, he nudged the woman sleeping next to him.
This was, quite possibly, a bad idea. Especially given the elbow she shoved into his chest.
"Ow." Rubbing the spot, he decided to try a different tactic, and cast around the room looking for something to annoy her with.
That was when he spotted the card.
It was cheesy.
But the message on it was rather perfectly clear. He gaped, and for a moment, was sure he'd entered some strange dimension.
Clearly, he'd had too much to drink.
"D'you remember getting married?"
"Huh?"
Moving closer, he was glad to note she hadn't gotten her elbow out again. "We're married."
One eye popped open, revealing a very confused look. It went well with the crusted blue frosting in her hair. "What?"
Sam happily groped Kara, she was warm and accessible and right there. Made it easy to stroke a finger under one breast and feel her tense and breathe. "We're married," he repeated.
"We are?" She squinted, and he could see the tinge of alcohol in her eyes.
"Yup." He kissed her nose and tugged her closer. Obviously, this could require more groping. Possibly even some licking and sucking. Even if his head was pounding in time to his heartbeat.
"Gods..." She growled and closed her eyes with a wince of pain. "Do you have to be so bright?"
"I'm happy." And willing. Keeping the slight tone of hurt from his voice was a little hard, especially this early in the morning. Really, she didn't have to sound like being married to him was the worst thing that could have happened to her.
"I'm happy, too. Really."
He decided to be magnanimous. "Except for the being hung-over part."
Kara opened one eye and glared. "And the not being able to remember part."
"Well..." He felt a little uncertain, flashes of memory teasing him just at the edge of thought. Kara, with her head tipped back and laughing, the priest, Adama beaming with pride at her... "I'm not sure I remember, either."
"Then what makes you--?"
He held up the card that had been on the bedside table when he woke. The bright blue color didn't bear thinking about, though the curly, purple script was rather cute. Sort of. "Congratulations, Kara and Sam Anders. May you have all of the love--"
Kara clapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified. "Gods. Go back to sleep."
"Is this a nightmare?" Now he was the one being an ass. He could blame the hangover. Or maybe the lack of morning sex. But then, a bad headache rather precluded morning sex. And sex didn't (generally) heal headaches.
"No."
"Good." He kissed her nose again and dropped the card before closing his eyes. He needed to stop with the nose-kissing. It was too cutesy, and possibly annoying her. Though she hadn't smacked him for it yet.
They were both silent for a time, Sam trying to recall what he could. The idea of not being able to remember hearing Kara say her vows (much less his own) grated. If only because he'd like to be able to tease her about being girly. If she'd been girly. Had she even had a traditional bouquet of flowers?
Abruptly, Kara poked him. "You hit me with cake."
"That explains the icing in your hair." Sam didn't bother opening his eyes. He had been wondering. Just her saying it unlocked the memory of her surprised yelp when he'd happily smashed the piece of cake on her head. Really, they were all of five, sometimes.
"I'll get you back." She promised.
Considering what she considered revenge, Sam rather wondered if he'd survive. Of course, he'd die a very happy man. "Hope so."
Kara casually slid her arm around his waist. "I can't believe I can't remember my own wedding."
Mumbling, almost asleep, he replied, "Makes two of us." Falling asleep was easy, because Kara was there, and the cylons weren't. No one was trying to kill him, no one was telling him he hadn't trained enough, and no one was nagging him about his diet. Plus, he suddenly had the memory of kissing Kara for rather too long in front of enough people to fill Galactica's hangar deck.
The wolf whistles had been worth it. He dropped into sleep with a slightly contented smirk on his lips.
As if sensing this, Kara opened one eye and inspected his lips. "You suck." Kara informed the room in general, then joined her (apparently) newly-minted husband in sleep.
-f