Liz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
padme_kenobi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
padmeonpaper2009-05-01 10:46 pm
padme_kenobi) wrote in padmeonpaper2009-05-01 10:46 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: "The Sound of One Hand Clapping" (Battlestar Galactica, Lee/Kara, 4/11)
Title: The Sound of One Hand Clapping
Author:padme_kenobi
Previous Chapters: Can be read here.
Characters/Pairings: Lee/Kara with mentions of Lee/Dee, Sam/Kara and Zak/Kara
Status: Complete. One chapter will be posted per day.
Word Count: 2,650 this chapter
Rating: NC-17 this chapter
Spoilers: Through S3's "Crossroads, Part 2"
Summary: The fear doesn’t seem as important as it was, for whatever reason.
Author's Notes: Note the rating change! The upgrade indicates that there's just a little smut coming your way, so I'd avoid this chapter if that kind of thing isn't your cup of tea. ;) As always, more extensive author's notes can be found here.
Kara sleeps more soundly now. The fear doesn’t seem as important as it was, for whatever reason. The decision that caused her as much physical and emotional pain as the last bandage change has been rendered moot. Somehow, the knowledge that Lee was willing to plead for her, that he did not want to let her go, even after everything she has put him through, is as important as anything she has ever known. And for the first time since both of them died, she is able to look back upon the memories of her engagement to Zak and marriage to Sam with something resembling fondness. Before, any positive feelings she might have conjured were clouded and obscured by guilt. The path to healing isn’t complete, and she believes it never will be, but she has started to find her way.
The importance of this revelation cannot be adequately measured. Kara wonders more than once if this is just a buildup by the gods for the next bout of torture they have planned for her.
A week and a half after her Raptor crashed, Cottle finally decrees that she’s well enough to leave sickbay. Lee is present for the usual bandage change, and when the doctor gives Kara instructions for the care of her hands (continue taking morpha every three hours; don’t touch anything; get help with bathing, dressing and other tasks; and be available for bandage changes every three days), she knows he’s speaking as much to Lee as he is to her. Then her hands are finally released from the metal frame, and Lee helps her to sit on the edge of the bed.
“You want a chair?” he asks.
“A wheelchair?” Kara blinks at him. “Apollo, do you even realize what a beating my reputation will take if Hotdog sees me pulling up to the bunkroom in a wheelchair?”
Lee laughs. “I’m guessing I don’t.”
“Apparently not, or you wouldn’t even have asked the frakking question.”
But she’s unsteady when she stands up, such that she stumbles against him and he has to hold her securely to prevent her from falling. Cottle brings the chair without another word, and his stern glance tells her she’d better accept it.
“I’m drunk,” Kara mutters as Lee wheels her out of sickbay. She’s keeping her eyes on the deck and is hoping that they don’t meet anyone she knows – or if they do, that the person doesn’t recognize her. “I’m drunk. Okay? That’s the cover story. Too drunk to stand.”
“Everyone knows what happened, Starbuck,” he sighs. “They know about the crash. And how could they not know you’ve been in sickbay since then? Hell, I had Racetrack taking your place on CAP. They’ll know.”
“Asshole, you’re supposed to go along with my fantasies, not kill them,” she mutters, but she can’t conjure the energy required to be truly annoyed. Every bump that the chair traverses is an unwelcome jolt to her hands.
“Fantasies, hmm?” There’s a distinct smirk in Lee’s tone. “Tell me more about these fantasies.”
Impulsively she looks up at him, Starbuck grin firmly in place. “Pervert.”
“You want to be frakked three times and I’m the pervert?”
“Four,” Kara automatically corrects. “You owe me for that one time Tigh held you up in that meeting.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to this particular bargain,” says Lee’s voice. His body, however, says something different. From this angle she can clearly see telltale evidence, and she aches to reach out and squeeze it.
She settles for the next best thing, leaning her head back until she’s just touching him. “Liar.”
The chair jerks slightly and there’s a sharp intake of breath. “Frak. Would you not do that?”
Kara snickers through the renewed pain in her hands. “I told you so.”
“I could abandon you right here, you know.” But the impact of his threat is diminished by his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s hiding a smile.
She tries and fails to look innocent. “Who would help you with your little, ah, problem then?”
Lee wiggles his fingers in her face. “I’m sure I could work something out.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Well. Yeah.” He swallows, bends forward and kisses her once, right there in the hallway. Then the chair’s moving again, with not a little speed.
“Impatient?” Kara teases.
And she wants him, wants to take advantage of her hands being freed from the frame to hold him and hug him properly, but by the time they get to the bunkroom – mercifully empty – her eyes are closing. Kara’s disgusted with herself, and the feeling only grows as Lee deposits two morpha pills onto her tongue, helps her into her rack, climbs in after her, pulls the curtain and undresses her to her bra. He lies next to her, stroking her hair softly.
“Sorry, hotshot,” she murmurs, a slight amount of guilt coursing through her as his erection presses the small of her back. A yawn nearly cracks her jaw. “Lemme nap first. Won’t be any fun if I fall asleep on you, will I?”
Lee kisses the back of her neck, reaching over her to reposition her arms slightly. Kara’s grateful; there’s now not nearly as much pressure on her hands. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispers, and she falls asleep to his breath on her cheek and his fingers in her hair.
***
Kara doesn’t believe him. Despite his words to her, she figures he’ll have CAP, or CIC will call him, or the nuggets’ll come into the bunkroom and Lee will get embarrassed and split. But she comes back to consciousness to the pleasant feel of the morpha in her system and to his warm body at her back. He’s moving rhythmically and beginning to breathe quickly.
It’s only with some effort that she keeps quiet, listening carefully. Trying to figure out if her theory is correct. But then his left hand comes up and traces the curve of her breasts through her sports bra, and Kara knows for sure.
“Are you beating off in my bunk, Apollo?” she asks conversationally.
Lee jumps, and Kara shouts with laughter. “I, um, didn’t realize you were awake,” he stammers.
She looks at his hand, now venturing lower and circling her navel, and turns with some difficulty so she’s facing him. Somehow he’s managed to remove his tanks and push his pants down to his ankles, not easy in the confined space. A familiar grin lights her face. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just enjoy the show.”
“Ha ha.” Lee traces her jawline next, brushing his fingers lightly over her lips. She inhales; he smells of salt and sex and sweat and that scent she loves so much, the scent that is uniquely him. “Nah, I was waiting for you.”
“And what if you couldn’t wait?” Kara teases. “This is a black bra, pervert.”
“So?”
“So I don’t need your boy germs all over it.” She elbows him in the ribs and is rewarded with a pleasant oof. “Imagine what the nuggets’d say then. We don’t get primo laundry service around here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“You don’t seem nearly so particular about my boy germs inside you,” Lee remarks with a laugh.
“Smartass. That’s because I don’t have to worry about throwing myself in a washing machine.”
“And besides, it gets you off,” he whispers right in her ear.
She kisses him, long and slow and sensual. “It gets you off too.”
Lee grinds against her, careful to keep clear of her hands, which she’s holding out of the way. “Remember our bargain, Starbuck?”
“Mmm, remind me again …”
“Now who’s the smartass?” He grasps her shoulders and turns her slowly, slipping her bra over her shoulders and pressing her back against his chest. His hands are circling around until they clasp her breasts, and she doesn’t bother to restrain a moan as her nipples stiffen.
“I dogged the hatch, and the room’s empty,” Lee adds, “which I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know now that you’re announcing our activities to the whole ship.”
“Uh, when have I ever cared about making noise in public?”
“Fair point.” With one hand Lee continues to slide her bra up over her arms, and with the other he palms a breast, palms the other, lets his index finger drift in a line down her belly.
Kara arches against him, feels his cock probing her back and arches again, eliciting a solid groan. “Two can play at this game, hotshot. Ow,” she adds as the bra grazes her left hand. “Ow ow ow, okay wait. Both hands, Lee. You need both hands. Ow.” The pain distracts her, a decidedly unwelcome intruder, and Lee freezes.
“Sorry,” he whispers, and his voice is full of concern for her as he finishes removing the offending garment and simply holds her, hugging her to him. She breathes deeply, concentrating on the feel of Lee against her skin and the placating kisses and nibbles he’s pressing to her neck.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” and it is, for the pleasure soon overtakes the discomfort and Kara’s ready again, squirming against him and wet and wanting to fulfill the first part of their bargain.
She expects him to turn her over again, but he doesn’t, just clasps her hip and with the other hand, slowly guides himself inside her heat.
“Frak,” Kara exhales.
“Yeah,” Lee confirms.
“Ohhhh.” Another long moan is torn from her as he moves, just slightly, and his hands slide back around her breasts. “Frakfrakfrak. Oh.”
Lee’s right hand snakes down past her belly and between her legs, where they are joined, and he finds her clit and just presses, presses until warmth is everywhere and she’s moaning his name like a prayer. Part of her is wondering where he learned to do such marvelous things with his hands but right now she doesn’t care, right now she just wants this, needs this. This. Him.
It’s so good to feel him touching her without the answering pain of a bandage change.
Lee starts thrusting in earnest now and Kara goes blissfully blank. Her only regret is that she can’t touch him, can’t stroke his cheek or tangle her fingers in his hair – not without blinding pain, anyway, and she doesn’t want to risk that right now. So she settles for arching against him with each thrust, enjoying the answering grunts issuing from his lips. She’s having an effect on him and that is more than enough, for now.
“Kara,” Lee groans tightly, and suddenly he’s palming her clit and plucking at her nipples more rapidly than ever. She realizes he’s close and knows almost simultaneously that she is, too, and seconds after that understanding slams into her mind, so does her climax.
A single long moan, which may or may not include his name, and Kara arches again most fiercely, and then it’s over. Then she’s waiting and smiling as Lee hugs her and thrusts harder, faster, kissing her neck, both hands on her breasts now. His breath catches deliciously and he shudders out her name, into her hair, while she feels herself fill with his wetness.
“Well,” she says.
“Well,” he answers vaguely. He’s still full of her, and she knows that. Loves it.
“One down, three to go,” Kara smiles.
“Yeah.” Lee combs his fingers through her hair. “You know, you should grow your hair out again. It looks nice long.”
She blinks at the sudden change in topic, and shivers with the unwanted memories. “Gods, that mop? Couldn’t wait to cut it, actually. Besides, can you picture me stuffing it into a helmet when I go back on duty?”
“Guess it’d be hard.” He kisses the back of her neck and pulls out slowly, turning her so they’re facing each other. “Speaking of duty, I go on it in twenty minutes. Anything you need before then?”
Kara sighs. Despite Lee’s ministrations to her in sickbay, she’s not yet used to – nor does she think she will ever be used to – him taking care of her in this manner. They’ve always done what was necessary for one another: made sure they were both fed and clothed; bullied each other to take extra rack time; spotted each other in the gym; pushed each other to be better pilots, better officers, better human beings; and fought like fiends throughout all of the above. But this is a new facet of their relationship, a facet in which Lee gives without expecting anything from her in return. And Kara still isn’t sure how she feels about allowing herself to be weak around someone in front of whom she has always projected an aura of indomitable strength. She’s never shown weakness around anyone.
No. Scratch that. There was one person.
Zak Adama.
She decides to test Zak’s brother. See exactly how far he’s willing to take this.
“I haven’t washed since before the crash,” Kara admits. “I mean, they did stuff in sickbay to make sure I didn’t pollute the air too badly, but what I’d really like is a nice hot shower.”
She waits for him to tease. Waits for the inevitable smart remark. It doesn’t come.
Lee instead takes her request without a blink. “All right. First thing after CAP, you get your shower. I promise.”
“Apollo, you can’t be frakking serious.” Kara doesn’t bother to keep the mixture of incredulity and disdain out of her voice. “You’re the CAG of this godsdamned ship, you can’t afford to take time out just to make sure someone gets a shower. And not only gets a shower, is helped into that shower and washed and –”
He silences her with a finger pressed to her lips. “Kara, when are you going to start believing I want to help you? Or is it going to take another week of dressing you and undressing you and giving you meds and taking you to the frakking head for you to understand?”
She doesn’t know how to answer that, so she settles for worrying at her bottom lip and thanking the gods for the irritation in his last words. At least some of the old Lee is still there.
“Besides, you’re my Top Gun, as you never cease to remind me,” he continues. “It’s in my interest as CAG to make sure your recovery goes smoothly.”
At this Kara smiles, and laughs a little. “True. I won’t argue your point there.”
Lee raises up on one elbow and begins the process of untangling their legs. “And I love you,” he finishes.
“Well. Yes. There’s that.” She stretches languidly, arching her arms over the top of her head, and abruptly hooks her leg around his hip as he climbs over her. Lee, off balance, topples into her chest. “Hi, Lee,” Kara grins.
For a moment she’s not sure whether he’s going to laugh or start cursing her out. The expression on his face is a mixture of both attendant emotions. Finally he chooses laughter. “Frak you, Kara. I’ve got patrol.”
Kara leans up and kisses his lips. “You said that a minute ago. You also said you loved me.”
He laughs again, shakes his head, kisses back. “You’re a piece of work, Starbuck.”
“No more than you,” she fires back.
Lee showers, and Kara doesn’t bother to hide the fact that she’s watching him in all his states of dress and undress, and he doesn’t bother to fight the grin that appears on his face when he realizes she’s looking. They’re so … comfortable now, and it’s strange, but it’s reassuring at the same time.
He gives her more morpha, washed down with a glass of water that he holds for her, and kisses her again and whispers, “Shower. After CAP.”
Kara nods, and watches him leave. It occurs to her that for the first time in months, she feels completely at peace.
Author:
padme_kenobiPrevious Chapters: Can be read here.
Characters/Pairings: Lee/Kara with mentions of Lee/Dee, Sam/Kara and Zak/Kara
Status: Complete. One chapter will be posted per day.
Word Count: 2,650 this chapter
Rating: NC-17 this chapter
Spoilers: Through S3's "Crossroads, Part 2"
Summary: The fear doesn’t seem as important as it was, for whatever reason.
Author's Notes: Note the rating change! The upgrade indicates that there's just a little smut coming your way, so I'd avoid this chapter if that kind of thing isn't your cup of tea. ;) As always, more extensive author's notes can be found here.
Kara sleeps more soundly now. The fear doesn’t seem as important as it was, for whatever reason. The decision that caused her as much physical and emotional pain as the last bandage change has been rendered moot. Somehow, the knowledge that Lee was willing to plead for her, that he did not want to let her go, even after everything she has put him through, is as important as anything she has ever known. And for the first time since both of them died, she is able to look back upon the memories of her engagement to Zak and marriage to Sam with something resembling fondness. Before, any positive feelings she might have conjured were clouded and obscured by guilt. The path to healing isn’t complete, and she believes it never will be, but she has started to find her way.
The importance of this revelation cannot be adequately measured. Kara wonders more than once if this is just a buildup by the gods for the next bout of torture they have planned for her.
A week and a half after her Raptor crashed, Cottle finally decrees that she’s well enough to leave sickbay. Lee is present for the usual bandage change, and when the doctor gives Kara instructions for the care of her hands (continue taking morpha every three hours; don’t touch anything; get help with bathing, dressing and other tasks; and be available for bandage changes every three days), she knows he’s speaking as much to Lee as he is to her. Then her hands are finally released from the metal frame, and Lee helps her to sit on the edge of the bed.
“You want a chair?” he asks.
“A wheelchair?” Kara blinks at him. “Apollo, do you even realize what a beating my reputation will take if Hotdog sees me pulling up to the bunkroom in a wheelchair?”
Lee laughs. “I’m guessing I don’t.”
“Apparently not, or you wouldn’t even have asked the frakking question.”
But she’s unsteady when she stands up, such that she stumbles against him and he has to hold her securely to prevent her from falling. Cottle brings the chair without another word, and his stern glance tells her she’d better accept it.
“I’m drunk,” Kara mutters as Lee wheels her out of sickbay. She’s keeping her eyes on the deck and is hoping that they don’t meet anyone she knows – or if they do, that the person doesn’t recognize her. “I’m drunk. Okay? That’s the cover story. Too drunk to stand.”
“Everyone knows what happened, Starbuck,” he sighs. “They know about the crash. And how could they not know you’ve been in sickbay since then? Hell, I had Racetrack taking your place on CAP. They’ll know.”
“Asshole, you’re supposed to go along with my fantasies, not kill them,” she mutters, but she can’t conjure the energy required to be truly annoyed. Every bump that the chair traverses is an unwelcome jolt to her hands.
“Fantasies, hmm?” There’s a distinct smirk in Lee’s tone. “Tell me more about these fantasies.”
Impulsively she looks up at him, Starbuck grin firmly in place. “Pervert.”
“You want to be frakked three times and I’m the pervert?”
“Four,” Kara automatically corrects. “You owe me for that one time Tigh held you up in that meeting.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to this particular bargain,” says Lee’s voice. His body, however, says something different. From this angle she can clearly see telltale evidence, and she aches to reach out and squeeze it.
She settles for the next best thing, leaning her head back until she’s just touching him. “Liar.”
The chair jerks slightly and there’s a sharp intake of breath. “Frak. Would you not do that?”
Kara snickers through the renewed pain in her hands. “I told you so.”
“I could abandon you right here, you know.” But the impact of his threat is diminished by his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s hiding a smile.
She tries and fails to look innocent. “Who would help you with your little, ah, problem then?”
Lee wiggles his fingers in her face. “I’m sure I could work something out.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Well. Yeah.” He swallows, bends forward and kisses her once, right there in the hallway. Then the chair’s moving again, with not a little speed.
“Impatient?” Kara teases.
And she wants him, wants to take advantage of her hands being freed from the frame to hold him and hug him properly, but by the time they get to the bunkroom – mercifully empty – her eyes are closing. Kara’s disgusted with herself, and the feeling only grows as Lee deposits two morpha pills onto her tongue, helps her into her rack, climbs in after her, pulls the curtain and undresses her to her bra. He lies next to her, stroking her hair softly.
“Sorry, hotshot,” she murmurs, a slight amount of guilt coursing through her as his erection presses the small of her back. A yawn nearly cracks her jaw. “Lemme nap first. Won’t be any fun if I fall asleep on you, will I?”
Lee kisses the back of her neck, reaching over her to reposition her arms slightly. Kara’s grateful; there’s now not nearly as much pressure on her hands. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispers, and she falls asleep to his breath on her cheek and his fingers in her hair.
***
Kara doesn’t believe him. Despite his words to her, she figures he’ll have CAP, or CIC will call him, or the nuggets’ll come into the bunkroom and Lee will get embarrassed and split. But she comes back to consciousness to the pleasant feel of the morpha in her system and to his warm body at her back. He’s moving rhythmically and beginning to breathe quickly.
It’s only with some effort that she keeps quiet, listening carefully. Trying to figure out if her theory is correct. But then his left hand comes up and traces the curve of her breasts through her sports bra, and Kara knows for sure.
“Are you beating off in my bunk, Apollo?” she asks conversationally.
Lee jumps, and Kara shouts with laughter. “I, um, didn’t realize you were awake,” he stammers.
She looks at his hand, now venturing lower and circling her navel, and turns with some difficulty so she’s facing him. Somehow he’s managed to remove his tanks and push his pants down to his ankles, not easy in the confined space. A familiar grin lights her face. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just enjoy the show.”
“Ha ha.” Lee traces her jawline next, brushing his fingers lightly over her lips. She inhales; he smells of salt and sex and sweat and that scent she loves so much, the scent that is uniquely him. “Nah, I was waiting for you.”
“And what if you couldn’t wait?” Kara teases. “This is a black bra, pervert.”
“So?”
“So I don’t need your boy germs all over it.” She elbows him in the ribs and is rewarded with a pleasant oof. “Imagine what the nuggets’d say then. We don’t get primo laundry service around here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“You don’t seem nearly so particular about my boy germs inside you,” Lee remarks with a laugh.
“Smartass. That’s because I don’t have to worry about throwing myself in a washing machine.”
“And besides, it gets you off,” he whispers right in her ear.
She kisses him, long and slow and sensual. “It gets you off too.”
Lee grinds against her, careful to keep clear of her hands, which she’s holding out of the way. “Remember our bargain, Starbuck?”
“Mmm, remind me again …”
“Now who’s the smartass?” He grasps her shoulders and turns her slowly, slipping her bra over her shoulders and pressing her back against his chest. His hands are circling around until they clasp her breasts, and she doesn’t bother to restrain a moan as her nipples stiffen.
“I dogged the hatch, and the room’s empty,” Lee adds, “which I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know now that you’re announcing our activities to the whole ship.”
“Uh, when have I ever cared about making noise in public?”
“Fair point.” With one hand Lee continues to slide her bra up over her arms, and with the other he palms a breast, palms the other, lets his index finger drift in a line down her belly.
Kara arches against him, feels his cock probing her back and arches again, eliciting a solid groan. “Two can play at this game, hotshot. Ow,” she adds as the bra grazes her left hand. “Ow ow ow, okay wait. Both hands, Lee. You need both hands. Ow.” The pain distracts her, a decidedly unwelcome intruder, and Lee freezes.
“Sorry,” he whispers, and his voice is full of concern for her as he finishes removing the offending garment and simply holds her, hugging her to him. She breathes deeply, concentrating on the feel of Lee against her skin and the placating kisses and nibbles he’s pressing to her neck.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” and it is, for the pleasure soon overtakes the discomfort and Kara’s ready again, squirming against him and wet and wanting to fulfill the first part of their bargain.
She expects him to turn her over again, but he doesn’t, just clasps her hip and with the other hand, slowly guides himself inside her heat.
“Frak,” Kara exhales.
“Yeah,” Lee confirms.
“Ohhhh.” Another long moan is torn from her as he moves, just slightly, and his hands slide back around her breasts. “Frakfrakfrak. Oh.”
Lee’s right hand snakes down past her belly and between her legs, where they are joined, and he finds her clit and just presses, presses until warmth is everywhere and she’s moaning his name like a prayer. Part of her is wondering where he learned to do such marvelous things with his hands but right now she doesn’t care, right now she just wants this, needs this. This. Him.
It’s so good to feel him touching her without the answering pain of a bandage change.
Lee starts thrusting in earnest now and Kara goes blissfully blank. Her only regret is that she can’t touch him, can’t stroke his cheek or tangle her fingers in his hair – not without blinding pain, anyway, and she doesn’t want to risk that right now. So she settles for arching against him with each thrust, enjoying the answering grunts issuing from his lips. She’s having an effect on him and that is more than enough, for now.
“Kara,” Lee groans tightly, and suddenly he’s palming her clit and plucking at her nipples more rapidly than ever. She realizes he’s close and knows almost simultaneously that she is, too, and seconds after that understanding slams into her mind, so does her climax.
A single long moan, which may or may not include his name, and Kara arches again most fiercely, and then it’s over. Then she’s waiting and smiling as Lee hugs her and thrusts harder, faster, kissing her neck, both hands on her breasts now. His breath catches deliciously and he shudders out her name, into her hair, while she feels herself fill with his wetness.
“Well,” she says.
“Well,” he answers vaguely. He’s still full of her, and she knows that. Loves it.
“One down, three to go,” Kara smiles.
“Yeah.” Lee combs his fingers through her hair. “You know, you should grow your hair out again. It looks nice long.”
She blinks at the sudden change in topic, and shivers with the unwanted memories. “Gods, that mop? Couldn’t wait to cut it, actually. Besides, can you picture me stuffing it into a helmet when I go back on duty?”
“Guess it’d be hard.” He kisses the back of her neck and pulls out slowly, turning her so they’re facing each other. “Speaking of duty, I go on it in twenty minutes. Anything you need before then?”
Kara sighs. Despite Lee’s ministrations to her in sickbay, she’s not yet used to – nor does she think she will ever be used to – him taking care of her in this manner. They’ve always done what was necessary for one another: made sure they were both fed and clothed; bullied each other to take extra rack time; spotted each other in the gym; pushed each other to be better pilots, better officers, better human beings; and fought like fiends throughout all of the above. But this is a new facet of their relationship, a facet in which Lee gives without expecting anything from her in return. And Kara still isn’t sure how she feels about allowing herself to be weak around someone in front of whom she has always projected an aura of indomitable strength. She’s never shown weakness around anyone.
No. Scratch that. There was one person.
Zak Adama.
She decides to test Zak’s brother. See exactly how far he’s willing to take this.
“I haven’t washed since before the crash,” Kara admits. “I mean, they did stuff in sickbay to make sure I didn’t pollute the air too badly, but what I’d really like is a nice hot shower.”
She waits for him to tease. Waits for the inevitable smart remark. It doesn’t come.
Lee instead takes her request without a blink. “All right. First thing after CAP, you get your shower. I promise.”
“Apollo, you can’t be frakking serious.” Kara doesn’t bother to keep the mixture of incredulity and disdain out of her voice. “You’re the CAG of this godsdamned ship, you can’t afford to take time out just to make sure someone gets a shower. And not only gets a shower, is helped into that shower and washed and –”
He silences her with a finger pressed to her lips. “Kara, when are you going to start believing I want to help you? Or is it going to take another week of dressing you and undressing you and giving you meds and taking you to the frakking head for you to understand?”
She doesn’t know how to answer that, so she settles for worrying at her bottom lip and thanking the gods for the irritation in his last words. At least some of the old Lee is still there.
“Besides, you’re my Top Gun, as you never cease to remind me,” he continues. “It’s in my interest as CAG to make sure your recovery goes smoothly.”
At this Kara smiles, and laughs a little. “True. I won’t argue your point there.”
Lee raises up on one elbow and begins the process of untangling their legs. “And I love you,” he finishes.
“Well. Yes. There’s that.” She stretches languidly, arching her arms over the top of her head, and abruptly hooks her leg around his hip as he climbs over her. Lee, off balance, topples into her chest. “Hi, Lee,” Kara grins.
For a moment she’s not sure whether he’s going to laugh or start cursing her out. The expression on his face is a mixture of both attendant emotions. Finally he chooses laughter. “Frak you, Kara. I’ve got patrol.”
Kara leans up and kisses his lips. “You said that a minute ago. You also said you loved me.”
He laughs again, shakes his head, kisses back. “You’re a piece of work, Starbuck.”
“No more than you,” she fires back.
Lee showers, and Kara doesn’t bother to hide the fact that she’s watching him in all his states of dress and undress, and he doesn’t bother to fight the grin that appears on his face when he realizes she’s looking. They’re so … comfortable now, and it’s strange, but it’s reassuring at the same time.
He gives her more morpha, washed down with a glass of water that he holds for her, and kisses her again and whispers, “Shower. After CAP.”
Kara nods, and watches him leave. It occurs to her that for the first time in months, she feels completely at peace.