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Entry tags:
newbsg, Kara/Anders, Last one standing...
Disclaimer: not mine. Rating: 18+ porn.
Set: sometime during LYDB2. er. probably. Spoilers?
Pairing: Sam Anders/Kara Thrace
Notes: er. I have none. (no, wait, I do have one. wtf is up with my writing style?)
Summary: Cliffs are philosophical. Apparently.
Last one standing...
by ALC Punk!
She stands on a cliff, staring out at the sea. It's philosophical. Maybe. She can't decide, even as she turns and looks back the way she came. Rock-strewn pathway, gravel crunched under her feet, green grass rustling in the breeze that dances through her hair.
The cliff feels ancient through her boots, as though it's stood there since the beginning of time and will still be standing when it all comes to an end.
Wind and rain have marked their passing upon it, as have other, less atmospheric marauders. Discarded bird's nest, lichen, the scrabbling of ivy vines that slowly fall towards the sea below.
So far below.
She could step off and fly forever.
Tang of salt in the air, dragging at her blood in a way only flying has. As if she could fall and come home to rest. Vipers are volatile, full of energy and never-ceasing movement.
Waves crash against the rocks below, spraying the smell up towards her.
"Kara?"
She doesn't have to turn to know who it is.
Before she even has her eyes open, he's behind her, catching at her waist and tugging her backwards. Arms enfold her a moment later.
It's something he likes to do, and she lets him. She's never safe in his arms, not entirely. But she is content.
Getting used to contentment was something she had to learn.
Sam sets his chin on her shoulder and gazes at the sea. "I used to go climbing. There was a good course on Picon, all cliffs and gullies. You could never get away from the smell of the sea."
Fingering one of the muscles in his arm, she snorts, "Trying to keep in shape to get your ass kicked?"
"We weren't always that bad," he defends, but it's mild. He's used to her mockery by now, and returns it in kind when he can. And he wasn't ever blind to his teammates' faults.
"No, you just lost every game."
"Almost every game."
The correction makes her snicker, and she turns her head enough to loudly kiss his cheek. "You're so cute, Sammy."
"Hey. Don't call me that."
"Aww," she teases, "Sammy doesn't like being mocked?"
"Kara."
She laughs as his hands slip downwards, fingers flexing. And then he's tickling her, the laughter turning to a shriek of indignation. Never one to let a challenge go unmet, Kara turns in his arms (with difficulty) and attempts to return the attack in kind.
Unfortunately, Sam isn't particularly ticklish.
Pushing at him moves them away from the cliff edge until her legs give out due to her lack of oxygen. She drops before he can catch her and she takes full advantage to yank his legs out from under him and pounce.
"Oof."
Catching his hands before they can return to their task, Kara straddles his chest and smirks, "The mighty Sam Anders got beat by a girl."
"That's because the girl is nefarious."
"Damn right."
He smirks up at her, "Now you've won, what are you planning to do with me, Starbuck?"
"Throw you off the cliff?"
"For the infraction incurred, that seems hardly fair."
"Who says I'm fair?"
"Point." He tugs at her hands, and she lets him draw her close enough to kiss. "I can think of better things to do," he whispers against her lips.
"So can I, but there aren't any vipers to fly."
"Not enough room."
"Are you saying you're not that flexible, Sam?"
That gives him pause, and he breaks the kiss to eye her. "You've had sex in the cockpit of a viper."
"Helo said it was the kinkiest thing he'd done. That was before he slept with a toaster."
"I did not need to know that." Sam pulls a hand free and tugs her shirt from her pants. He's got this thing about groping her a lot.
Kara is happy to let him do so.
His hand settles on her hip, thumb stroking the skin while he simply looks at her. Kind of like he still can't quite believe that he's alive and she's really there. He never says it aloud, though. Kara's glad. That would make it real.
It would also be frakking sappy.
Starbuck doesn't do sap.
"Hey." She bends and kisses him again, this time with intent.
"What?"
"Ever had sex on a cliff top?"
"You offering?"
"No, I thought I saw a promising goat and thought you'd enjoy it."
Sam tugs at her waistband, then slides his hand upwards under her shirt. "Goats are smelly."
"So are we after a day of hard work."
"Different smell. Human." Sam runs his fingers under the band of her bra, moving it up and deftly freeing one breast for his fingers to play with.
"Mmm. Human." Squirming a little with the sudden desire flashing through her veins, Kara doesn't even think about possible interruptions.
"Very."
She kisses him again, and his second hand joins the first. A short while later, she can feel the breeze on the bare skin of her back.
Abruptly, he stops. "This ground is hard."
"Complaining?" Kara ignores the breathlessness of her voice.
"Yeah."
"Pansy."
He snorts and moves. Kara ends up on the bottom after a short tussle, and now she has to admit, he's right about the ground. It's damned hard.
The thought scatters a moment later when Sam tugs her shirt up. She lifts her arms to facilitate its removal and ends up tangled in it a second later. "You gettin' distracted or--"
Lips close over one nipple, finger and thumb roll the other.
Kara's back arches and she can't help the soft little sound of pleasure that escapes her. But now she needs to get free to smack him or something.
It takes concentration, reciting viper flight statistics, and determination to get the shirt the rest of the way off. She doesn't even bother with the bra--he's already pulled it all out of place anyway.
For a moment, she wonders how it's possible that the only contact is his mouth on her breasts, his fingers and thumb.
It's not enough.
To get her point across, Kara pulls her arms down and undoes her pants, pushing up and getting them off her hips.
Sam notices the movement and lifts his head. "I was getting there."
"Yeah, well, you were taking your time."
He kisses her nipple and moves to help her get the pants off the rest of the way, taking her underwear with them. There's a brief tussle at her boots before he gets one off.
"Sam." Kara hates the whine in her voice.
Crawling back up, he stops to kiss her belly. It wasn't what she was expecting, but she can go with it. Mouth, hands, cock, doesn't matter. Kara's all for sex. Now.
Sam's a smart man, even if he's easily distracted by her being naked. A moment later, he slides down enough and kisses one thigh then the other. And then he pauses, as if he knows frustration will make her kill him and he's got a death wish.
Taking back the thought that he's a smart man, Kara grabs for his head, fingers barely touching it before he moves.
"Damnit, Sam."
"You need patience."
"Frak patience."
"Patience is like a melon."
"What?"
He frowns, "Maybe I've been listening to some of the engineers talk philosophy."
"They were drunk." Irritated, Kara begins using her own fingers. After all, if he's going to prattle on about philosophy, she can get off and leave him to it.
That attracts his attention, and he gets back to the job at hand, mouth and tongue replacing her fingers.
Kara can still smell the sea when Sam's mouth shatters her.
Coming down, she wonders if she really did just hear her own voice echo back to her, or if she's just mistaken.
Sam stretches out a bit more and lays his head on her thigh, staring up at her sideways. "Better?"
"Better." Kara grudgingly admits.
His lips brush her thigh some more, one hand coming up to join in the fun.
Kara arches in reaction, a little surprised. "Sam?"
"Could do this all day, you know." He slides a finger into her, eyes watching her.
"All night would be good, too."
"I'm only human."
"Thank the gods." Her breath catches, and she wonders if swimming in the sea would be better than this.
Flying certainly isn't. Not anymore.
Kara is not going to call it happiness. It's just sex and lust and really good sex.
"Getting bored?"
"Maybe some variation in technique?"
The suggestion makes him smirk. A second later, three fingers press into her and she gasps at the feel.
Sam's tongue glides over her, and the tension is more than back.
"All afternoon?" She asks.
The second orgasm doesn't wash her out to sea. That would be stupid. And pointless, if she wants to frak him properly and get him naked under the sun.
His answer is to crawl up and kiss her breasts again, fingers still flexing inside of her as he sucks a nipple, brushing it against his teeth.
"Right. Enough of this--oh, gods--passive--crap." Kara catches a breath and then uses her very free hands to grab his head. "Naked. Now."
"Yessir." He mumbles, using both hands to accomplish the task of removing his pants enough.
Not a mind-reader, her Sam. But he's got some smarts. Enough to leave off teasing her and move up to thrust into her. Kara arches to meet him and moans her approval.
It's not fast and furious, like it might once have been. Kara feels comfortable with something that leaves less bruises. Which isn't to say that she wouldn't tackle him into the mud and leave them scratched and bloody the next time.
But right now, he's frakked her to orgasm twice, and her body is still in the downswing from the last.
Her left leg comes up, wraps around his waist, foot tapping his leg. The angle changes and he slides in deeper, causing them both to gasp.
"You know," he mumbles as he moves, panting a bit. "I wasn't expecting this when I came up here."
"Count it as good fortune, then."
"Oh, I do."
He moves to kiss her, body moving faster against hers.
Sensing the building tension in him, Kara rubs her hand down his back, groping his ass.
"Gods."
"I don't think," she kisses his mouth again, "the gods pay much attention to frakking humans."
Planting her free foot, Kara gets a little more leverage for her own thrusts.
More than enough. He cries out as he shudders against her.
The smell of sex and sweat now mix with the sea-salt of the air. Hard ground under her back, and she can also smell the tang of the dirt. It's bitter, like alcohol left to go sour. With her senses returning to slightly normal, Kara notes a rock under her hip. "Move."
"Wha?"
"There's a rock under my ass. Move."
When he doesn't move fast enough, she smacks his shoulder. The brief tussle ends with her pinned to the ground again, his mouth on her breasts.
Kara's okay with that. It's something tangible and concrete.
-f-
Set: sometime during LYDB2. er. probably. Spoilers?
Pairing: Sam Anders/Kara Thrace
Notes: er. I have none. (no, wait, I do have one. wtf is up with my writing style?)
Summary: Cliffs are philosophical. Apparently.
Last one standing...
by ALC Punk!
She stands on a cliff, staring out at the sea. It's philosophical. Maybe. She can't decide, even as she turns and looks back the way she came. Rock-strewn pathway, gravel crunched under her feet, green grass rustling in the breeze that dances through her hair.
The cliff feels ancient through her boots, as though it's stood there since the beginning of time and will still be standing when it all comes to an end.
Wind and rain have marked their passing upon it, as have other, less atmospheric marauders. Discarded bird's nest, lichen, the scrabbling of ivy vines that slowly fall towards the sea below.
So far below.
She could step off and fly forever.
Tang of salt in the air, dragging at her blood in a way only flying has. As if she could fall and come home to rest. Vipers are volatile, full of energy and never-ceasing movement.
Waves crash against the rocks below, spraying the smell up towards her.
"Kara?"
She doesn't have to turn to know who it is.
Before she even has her eyes open, he's behind her, catching at her waist and tugging her backwards. Arms enfold her a moment later.
It's something he likes to do, and she lets him. She's never safe in his arms, not entirely. But she is content.
Getting used to contentment was something she had to learn.
Sam sets his chin on her shoulder and gazes at the sea. "I used to go climbing. There was a good course on Picon, all cliffs and gullies. You could never get away from the smell of the sea."
Fingering one of the muscles in his arm, she snorts, "Trying to keep in shape to get your ass kicked?"
"We weren't always that bad," he defends, but it's mild. He's used to her mockery by now, and returns it in kind when he can. And he wasn't ever blind to his teammates' faults.
"No, you just lost every game."
"Almost every game."
The correction makes her snicker, and she turns her head enough to loudly kiss his cheek. "You're so cute, Sammy."
"Hey. Don't call me that."
"Aww," she teases, "Sammy doesn't like being mocked?"
"Kara."
She laughs as his hands slip downwards, fingers flexing. And then he's tickling her, the laughter turning to a shriek of indignation. Never one to let a challenge go unmet, Kara turns in his arms (with difficulty) and attempts to return the attack in kind.
Unfortunately, Sam isn't particularly ticklish.
Pushing at him moves them away from the cliff edge until her legs give out due to her lack of oxygen. She drops before he can catch her and she takes full advantage to yank his legs out from under him and pounce.
"Oof."
Catching his hands before they can return to their task, Kara straddles his chest and smirks, "The mighty Sam Anders got beat by a girl."
"That's because the girl is nefarious."
"Damn right."
He smirks up at her, "Now you've won, what are you planning to do with me, Starbuck?"
"Throw you off the cliff?"
"For the infraction incurred, that seems hardly fair."
"Who says I'm fair?"
"Point." He tugs at her hands, and she lets him draw her close enough to kiss. "I can think of better things to do," he whispers against her lips.
"So can I, but there aren't any vipers to fly."
"Not enough room."
"Are you saying you're not that flexible, Sam?"
That gives him pause, and he breaks the kiss to eye her. "You've had sex in the cockpit of a viper."
"Helo said it was the kinkiest thing he'd done. That was before he slept with a toaster."
"I did not need to know that." Sam pulls a hand free and tugs her shirt from her pants. He's got this thing about groping her a lot.
Kara is happy to let him do so.
His hand settles on her hip, thumb stroking the skin while he simply looks at her. Kind of like he still can't quite believe that he's alive and she's really there. He never says it aloud, though. Kara's glad. That would make it real.
It would also be frakking sappy.
Starbuck doesn't do sap.
"Hey." She bends and kisses him again, this time with intent.
"What?"
"Ever had sex on a cliff top?"
"You offering?"
"No, I thought I saw a promising goat and thought you'd enjoy it."
Sam tugs at her waistband, then slides his hand upwards under her shirt. "Goats are smelly."
"So are we after a day of hard work."
"Different smell. Human." Sam runs his fingers under the band of her bra, moving it up and deftly freeing one breast for his fingers to play with.
"Mmm. Human." Squirming a little with the sudden desire flashing through her veins, Kara doesn't even think about possible interruptions.
"Very."
She kisses him again, and his second hand joins the first. A short while later, she can feel the breeze on the bare skin of her back.
Abruptly, he stops. "This ground is hard."
"Complaining?" Kara ignores the breathlessness of her voice.
"Yeah."
"Pansy."
He snorts and moves. Kara ends up on the bottom after a short tussle, and now she has to admit, he's right about the ground. It's damned hard.
The thought scatters a moment later when Sam tugs her shirt up. She lifts her arms to facilitate its removal and ends up tangled in it a second later. "You gettin' distracted or--"
Lips close over one nipple, finger and thumb roll the other.
Kara's back arches and she can't help the soft little sound of pleasure that escapes her. But now she needs to get free to smack him or something.
It takes concentration, reciting viper flight statistics, and determination to get the shirt the rest of the way off. She doesn't even bother with the bra--he's already pulled it all out of place anyway.
For a moment, she wonders how it's possible that the only contact is his mouth on her breasts, his fingers and thumb.
It's not enough.
To get her point across, Kara pulls her arms down and undoes her pants, pushing up and getting them off her hips.
Sam notices the movement and lifts his head. "I was getting there."
"Yeah, well, you were taking your time."
He kisses her nipple and moves to help her get the pants off the rest of the way, taking her underwear with them. There's a brief tussle at her boots before he gets one off.
"Sam." Kara hates the whine in her voice.
Crawling back up, he stops to kiss her belly. It wasn't what she was expecting, but she can go with it. Mouth, hands, cock, doesn't matter. Kara's all for sex. Now.
Sam's a smart man, even if he's easily distracted by her being naked. A moment later, he slides down enough and kisses one thigh then the other. And then he pauses, as if he knows frustration will make her kill him and he's got a death wish.
Taking back the thought that he's a smart man, Kara grabs for his head, fingers barely touching it before he moves.
"Damnit, Sam."
"You need patience."
"Frak patience."
"Patience is like a melon."
"What?"
He frowns, "Maybe I've been listening to some of the engineers talk philosophy."
"They were drunk." Irritated, Kara begins using her own fingers. After all, if he's going to prattle on about philosophy, she can get off and leave him to it.
That attracts his attention, and he gets back to the job at hand, mouth and tongue replacing her fingers.
Kara can still smell the sea when Sam's mouth shatters her.
Coming down, she wonders if she really did just hear her own voice echo back to her, or if she's just mistaken.
Sam stretches out a bit more and lays his head on her thigh, staring up at her sideways. "Better?"
"Better." Kara grudgingly admits.
His lips brush her thigh some more, one hand coming up to join in the fun.
Kara arches in reaction, a little surprised. "Sam?"
"Could do this all day, you know." He slides a finger into her, eyes watching her.
"All night would be good, too."
"I'm only human."
"Thank the gods." Her breath catches, and she wonders if swimming in the sea would be better than this.
Flying certainly isn't. Not anymore.
Kara is not going to call it happiness. It's just sex and lust and really good sex.
"Getting bored?"
"Maybe some variation in technique?"
The suggestion makes him smirk. A second later, three fingers press into her and she gasps at the feel.
Sam's tongue glides over her, and the tension is more than back.
"All afternoon?" She asks.
The second orgasm doesn't wash her out to sea. That would be stupid. And pointless, if she wants to frak him properly and get him naked under the sun.
His answer is to crawl up and kiss her breasts again, fingers still flexing inside of her as he sucks a nipple, brushing it against his teeth.
"Right. Enough of this--oh, gods--passive--crap." Kara catches a breath and then uses her very free hands to grab his head. "Naked. Now."
"Yessir." He mumbles, using both hands to accomplish the task of removing his pants enough.
Not a mind-reader, her Sam. But he's got some smarts. Enough to leave off teasing her and move up to thrust into her. Kara arches to meet him and moans her approval.
It's not fast and furious, like it might once have been. Kara feels comfortable with something that leaves less bruises. Which isn't to say that she wouldn't tackle him into the mud and leave them scratched and bloody the next time.
But right now, he's frakked her to orgasm twice, and her body is still in the downswing from the last.
Her left leg comes up, wraps around his waist, foot tapping his leg. The angle changes and he slides in deeper, causing them both to gasp.
"You know," he mumbles as he moves, panting a bit. "I wasn't expecting this when I came up here."
"Count it as good fortune, then."
"Oh, I do."
He moves to kiss her, body moving faster against hers.
Sensing the building tension in him, Kara rubs her hand down his back, groping his ass.
"Gods."
"I don't think," she kisses his mouth again, "the gods pay much attention to frakking humans."
Planting her free foot, Kara gets a little more leverage for her own thrusts.
More than enough. He cries out as he shudders against her.
The smell of sex and sweat now mix with the sea-salt of the air. Hard ground under her back, and she can also smell the tang of the dirt. It's bitter, like alcohol left to go sour. With her senses returning to slightly normal, Kara notes a rock under her hip. "Move."
"Wha?"
"There's a rock under my ass. Move."
When he doesn't move fast enough, she smacks his shoulder. The brief tussle ends with her pinned to the ground again, his mouth on her breasts.
Kara's okay with that. It's something tangible and concrete.
-f-
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I love the banter and also the allusion to previous Helo/Kara because I get that impression from the show and it's great!
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Yes, well, I'm all about Helo and Kara being frak-buddies on occasion. ;)
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I love that they did it out in the open...although there's only 39000 people around to catch them.
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Thank you =)
HAH. Kara wouldn't care. Anders might. Jury's still out on what the people would think. (possibly, "Ooh, free porn!")
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I am agast and agog at the amazingness of this! Don't know how you do it though! And while I adore the smut, your descprtions at the beginning were really good too. Very vivid. BRAVO!
Now, when do we get more? But next time on a soft cuchy couch.
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*g* Thank you.
I blame the two of them for making me write it. And Kara for being strange at the beginning (and Yoko Kanno for the musical inspiration).
Er, possibly in a bit?
And maybe in a bed. Shock.
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Sam/Kara p0rn squee!
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*gleeful*
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*cckles*
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I'm rather fond of that word. Possibly, I've been reading too many mysteries. *g*