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*posts random bits of ficlets*
Dec. 2nd, 2006 07:13 pm"Yo, Carter!"
"Yo, Thrace!" Sam called back over the sound of the showers.
"Pass the frakkin' soap!"
Laughing, Sam grabbed the cake of soap and turned. Kara Thrace was standing under her own shower, grinning. Pausing for a moment to admire her all wet and naked, Sam almost forgot to toss the soap. But being able to focus on more than one thing was what made her a good pilot.
Tipping her head back, Sam closed her eyes and let the hot water slide through her hair and down her body. Getting a shower after five days in and out of the cockpit was like getting a winning token in the damned Caprican lottery. Around her, the other pilots laughed and joked. They were all letting off steam, all coming down.
=-=
"To be fair, Batou WAS staring at my breasts."
"To be fair, I was."
"Great." Togusa rubbed a hand over his face. "Anyone not staring at the Major's breasts, please feel free to follow me home for dinner."
=-=
"Ow!" Sam rubbed the back of his head and glared at the other man.
"Tony!" Crichton growled, "You don't get to hit people--you can't even keep a steady girlfriend without lying to your co-workers."
"Hey, man, he was being dumb."
=-=
( may be considered spoilers for season 3 of BSG )
=-=
Crichton took the seat across. "O'Neill."
"Gentlemen." The other man acknowledged.
Then they got to the serious business of ordering drinks. Fox Mulder, always a cheap date, went for the beer. Surprisingly, so did Jack O'Neill. John Crichton changed the menu slightly and went for the scotch.
-
Jack eyed Crichton. "You know, when you do that, you sound like Daniel. Stop it."
"Sir, yes, sir." Crichton mock saluted, his accent notably thicker.
"John," Mulder paused, then eyed his mug. "Being smug about fucking an alien is not kind."
"Yo, Thrace!" Sam called back over the sound of the showers.
"Pass the frakkin' soap!"
Laughing, Sam grabbed the cake of soap and turned. Kara Thrace was standing under her own shower, grinning. Pausing for a moment to admire her all wet and naked, Sam almost forgot to toss the soap. But being able to focus on more than one thing was what made her a good pilot.
Tipping her head back, Sam closed her eyes and let the hot water slide through her hair and down her body. Getting a shower after five days in and out of the cockpit was like getting a winning token in the damned Caprican lottery. Around her, the other pilots laughed and joked. They were all letting off steam, all coming down.
=-=
"To be fair, Batou WAS staring at my breasts."
"To be fair, I was."
"Great." Togusa rubbed a hand over his face. "Anyone not staring at the Major's breasts, please feel free to follow me home for dinner."
=-=
"Ow!" Sam rubbed the back of his head and glared at the other man.
"Tony!" Crichton growled, "You don't get to hit people--you can't even keep a steady girlfriend without lying to your co-workers."
"Hey, man, he was being dumb."
=-=
( may be considered spoilers for season 3 of BSG )
=-=
Crichton took the seat across. "O'Neill."
"Gentlemen." The other man acknowledged.
Then they got to the serious business of ordering drinks. Fox Mulder, always a cheap date, went for the beer. Surprisingly, so did Jack O'Neill. John Crichton changed the menu slightly and went for the scotch.
-
Jack eyed Crichton. "You know, when you do that, you sound like Daniel. Stop it."
"Sir, yes, sir." Crichton mock saluted, his accent notably thicker.
"John," Mulder paused, then eyed his mug. "Being smug about fucking an alien is not kind."
