fic: newBSG, Kara/Samuel, Sort-of Everything...

[lyssie]

Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: er... kiddie.
Pairing: Kara/Samuel (I finally figured out how to differentiate between Sams. Now, to just remember.)
Notes: This one's for greycoupon who wanted fluffy kidlet-fic. This is nominally in the same universe as Marmalade Fluff
Warning: Fluff.
Genre: AU.
Spoilers: Season three.

Warning: Fluff.

Sort-of Everything...
by ALC Punk!

When the proposal had come through to have the main school housed on Galactica, no one was more surprised that the Admiral agreed than the president herself. But the idea was sound--most of the soldiers needed proof that the civilians they guarded weren't idiots, and the children needed the protection. As one of Madame President's advisers put it, the children were their future.

All of which meant that when Kara informed everyone she was keeping the child she'd been gifted by Leoben, she was able to keep her right beside her. It also meant that Kacey was parceled off to school with the youngest class every morning so her parents could deal with things like vipers, administration paperwork, and training.

It also meant Sam was usually the one to pick her up from the large room that had once contained stores and now housed children and finger paints.

"Mr. Anders."

Damn. Sam knew that tone. It was the tone every teacher had perfected throughout the millennia there had been teachers. It was the one which instantly caused students and parents alike to cringe inwardly, to wonder just what it was they'd done wrong. Eyeing the bouncing and zooming figure of his daughter, Sam figured it had to do with her. Probably. "Ms. Jones?"

Her lips twitched and she met his gaze. "Your daughter taught her classmates a new word, Mr. Anders."

Oh boy. Given their vocabulary, this could be one of many things. Of course, Kacey could only say about four words. "She did? Good for her." He beamed. Always go with the happy option, Samuel. That's what his mother used to say.

"My students then asked me what 'frak' meant, Mr. Anders."

Frak. "Oh."

She snorted, and gestured impatiently, "I'd appreciate it if that sort of language wasn't used around my students let alone by them."

Yeah, definitely feeling about five. He almost wriggled under her glare, "I apologize, Ms. Jones. She doesn't normally use it, but I'll tell her she shouldn't do it again."

"Not good enough, I'm afraid."

What the frak did the woman want, blood? "What would you prefer, ma'am?"

"Very simply, Mr. Anders, I require more chaperones for the field trip to Colonial One."

Sam envisioned the fifty children, and felt himself pale a little, "And, ah, when would you require my help, Ms. Jones?"

"Plural, Mr. Anders. You and your wife both are required."

"Kara's a very busy pilot, Ms. Jones, I'm not sure--"

"Let me make myself clear, Mr. Anders. I require chaperones, your daughter requires schooling."

Oh. Blackmail at its best. Or bargaining. However she wanted to put it. Sam figured Kara would have bluffed her way out, but right at the moment, having a safe place to put Kacey was better than winning over a teacher. "All right, Ma'am. I'll talk to her."

"You do that. Kacey!"

Kacey paused mid-zoom and bounced over to them. "Zoom!"

"C'mere, kiddo," Sam bent down and scooped her up. "Time to go home, see your mom."

"Mama!" Kacey agreed enthusiastically before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. Messily.

Sam was getting used to having the kid dribble on him--especially since she did it to Kara, too. "Yup. Let's go." He nodded to Ms. Jones, "Good evening."

"Good night, Mr. Anders."

Being a concerned parent, Sam started off the trip back to quarters with Kacey perched upright against his hip. Halfway there, he switched, letting her sit on his shoulders. On the way down a set of stairs, he swung her down causing her to giggle loudly. Eventually, Sam had Kacey tucked under one arm, dangling upside-down. She was shrieking with delight at this treatment

Several crew members stopped to stare at them as he jogged down the corridor to the quarters they'd stuffed the three of them into.

"What the frak is that noise?" Shouted a voice from the hatchway, before it was followed by Kara herself. Her glare dissolved in .03 seconds, and a grin lightened her face, "Oh, it's that noise."

"Frak!" Kacey yelled at her mother, then clapped enthusiastically as Sam juggled her upright and set her on her feet.

He watched in amusement as she ran into their quarters, still making noises. "Guess what word our daughter taught her classmates today."

"Oh no." Kara's eyes widened in amusement.

"I had to explain to Ms. Jones that she really didn't say it all that often."

"Uh-huh. C'mere."

Sam gave in to what he swore was gravity. This meant grabbing his wife and leaning her up against the wall while kissing her rather thoroughly. One of her hands strayed up his shirt.

"Get a room!" A passing marine called.

Before either of them could reply, Kacey erupted into the corridor, "Zoooom!"

"Whoa!" Kara lunged, catching the little girl and swinging her up and around, "Guess what, kid? We need you to calm down, ok?"

"Zoom. Frak." Kacey giggled.

Kara snorted and put her down inside their quarters. "Go sit on the rack, ok?"

And Kacey did as she was told, albeit with a few turns as she zoomed her way, arms outstretched. Landing on the rack included jumping onto it, rolling and ending up facing them upside-down. Then she was silent, eyes watching avidly.

"You know," Sam remarked after closing the hatch, "That's still vaguely creepy."

Kara smacked him. "Don't call our daughter creepy."

"Ow."

"Idiot."

"Kara, there's something else." Sam hesitated, then plunged ahead. "As an apology, I said we'd help chaperone the next time the kids go to Colonial One."

"Oh, Sam!" A groan and an oath escaped Kara before she noticed the brightly-smiling child on the bed. "Damnit. When?"

"She wouldn't say."

"Well, I'm not going," Kara informed him.

"Gonna have a CAP that day?"

"Something like that. You're stuck with the rugrats and Ms. Jones."

Chuckling, Sam grabbed his wife around the waist and tugged her closer. "I am, huh?"

"Yup."

He bent his head and kissed her neck with a loud, smacking sound, "You sure about that?"

"Samuel!"

"'Cause she kind of said that if you didn't show up, she was kicking Kacey out of school."

"What?" Kara glared at him sideways. "Can she do that?"

"I don't know." He turned serious, "She might be able to--if she can make a case about Kacey being disruptive. And not--" He didn't finish his sentence, knowing the cylon thing was still a subject they weren't discussing.

There were a lot of things they weren't discussing, but Sam had less worries about those than he did about whether the marine sergeant would smack him with more reports to write in the morning.

Kara snorted, "I'll ask the old man."

"All right." Sam kissed her neck again, then pulled away to sit on the rack next to Kacey. He tilted his head and stared at her sideways. "Hi."

"Frak!" She shouted, then she rolled and ended up leaning against Sam. "Dad."

Sam froze. Kacey had never really called him anything before, preferring to shout or giggle, or ignore him in favor of her mother and everyone else. "Yeah," he finally said, snaking his arm around her and hugging her against his side. "I am your dad."

"Oooh, let me get a camera," Kara said, the words mocking. But the tone wasn't, and neither was the soft look on her face.

Moving, Sam grabbed her by the belt. "C'mere, Mrs. Anders."

"Yessir, Mr. Thrace." She snorted, dropping down to land half on his lap. "Hey, Kacey, your dad's a soft-touch. Remember that."

"Yes, mama." Kacey replied, then yawned. Her eyes drooped closed.

Sam maneuvered Kara into a more comfortable position and lifted Kacey to sprawl across their laps. "So. What'd you do today?"

"Flew vipers. Ratted out Seelix and her stash of chocolate." Kara yawned and snuggled into him.

Tightening his arms around them both, Sam smiled. "Good."

He could live with this. It wasn't the family he'd always dreamed of--it was frakked-up. His wife didn't talk about the important things, his step-daughter was half-cylon, and his civilization was in ruins. But it felt pretty damned close to perfect.

-f