DPP: Fill In The Gap
Nov. 22nd, 2011 06:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
winegums.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no_takebacksHello everyone, and welcome to today's post! Yesterday's DPP yielded us two lovely fics, Buzzing The Beast by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
useyourlove and Mustering Out by word_vomity - if you haven't read them yet, please show them some love! (we have such a talented fandom, don't we?)
Continuing with the speculation about canon blanks in the story of pilots, today I'd like to ask y'all what exactly you think happened in the time that elapsed between the end of Unfinished Business and beginning of The Eye of Jupiter, a.k.a. between the most heart-wrenching reunion/reconciliation in the history of storytelling (and this is not really hyperbole, we are talking about pilots after all) and the time when we finally found out that they'd stopped fighting their feelings and were outmaking like two people who couldn't get enough of each other.
Visual aids this way (just look at their faces, poor bbs):
And this (slightly happier sight to look at, at least in this still):
We never, ever get any idea from canon about how the affair began, other than that our favourite CAG and ace have been at it for a while by the time we see them, since they've spent at least a week on the algae planet with Kara flying donut runs to the surface every chance she gets.
But going by the fact that in The Passage, neither of our pilots has so much as a mark on them from their knock-down, drag-out fight in UB (and for all its other faults, BSG didn't make injuries sustained in one episode just vanish in the next, the scraped cheek and battered knee Lee and Kara sustained in early Season 1 stay scraped and injured for several episodes), some time did pass - Lee's black eye, Kara's potentially broken nose, and the cuts on both their faces wouldn't have healed without a trace in anything under two weeks, I'm guessing (if anyone knows how fast facial injuries heal, please feel free to correct me).
Anyway, I didn't mean to turn this into a boring medical discussion, because the real question is, what do you think happened during that time, Shipper Nation? How did Lee and Kara finally stop fighting themselves, at least for a little while, and give in to what they really wanted? It's a pilots landmark in so many ways, and we do not get to see nearly enough of them before the angst set in. All discussion, fic and fic recs are highly welcome, and wanted - and here are a few recs (some of which are fandom classics) to get started with:
Gold To Iron byfahye and stars_like_dust
Deadly byfahye
Lift Me Up byshah_of_blah
useyourlove and Mustering Out by word_vomity - if you haven't read them yet, please show them some love! (we have such a talented fandom, don't we?)Continuing with the speculation about canon blanks in the story of pilots, today I'd like to ask y'all what exactly you think happened in the time that elapsed between the end of Unfinished Business and beginning of The Eye of Jupiter, a.k.a. between the most heart-wrenching reunion/reconciliation in the history of storytelling (and this is not really hyperbole, we are talking about pilots after all) and the time when we finally found out that they'd stopped fighting their feelings and were outmaking like two people who couldn't get enough of each other.
Visual aids this way (just look at their faces, poor bbs):
And this (slightly happier sight to look at, at least in this still):
We never, ever get any idea from canon about how the affair began, other than that our favourite CAG and ace have been at it for a while by the time we see them, since they've spent at least a week on the algae planet with Kara flying donut runs to the surface every chance she gets.
But going by the fact that in The Passage, neither of our pilots has so much as a mark on them from their knock-down, drag-out fight in UB (and for all its other faults, BSG didn't make injuries sustained in one episode just vanish in the next, the scraped cheek and battered knee Lee and Kara sustained in early Season 1 stay scraped and injured for several episodes), some time did pass - Lee's black eye, Kara's potentially broken nose, and the cuts on both their faces wouldn't have healed without a trace in anything under two weeks, I'm guessing (if anyone knows how fast facial injuries heal, please feel free to correct me).
Anyway, I didn't mean to turn this into a boring medical discussion, because the real question is, what do you think happened during that time, Shipper Nation? How did Lee and Kara finally stop fighting themselves, at least for a little while, and give in to what they really wanted? It's a pilots landmark in so many ways, and we do not get to see nearly enough of them before the angst set in. All discussion, fic and fic recs are highly welcome, and wanted - and here are a few recs (some of which are fandom classics) to get started with:
Gold To Iron by
fahye and stars_like_dustDeadly by
fahyeLift Me Up by
shah_of_blah
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 04:32 pm (UTC)Limits (http://elly427.livejournal.com/160536.html) by
Hades in a Handcart (http://elzed.livejournal.com/108257.html) by
And some of my affair fic:
On the Line (http://taragel.livejournal.com/90111.html#cutid1) -- Kara and Lee negotiate limits in the raptor on the algae planet.
Needful Things (http://taragel.livejournal.com/127033.html) -- It's not what Lee wants, but it's what he needs.
No Takebacks also had an entire Role play of this arc between UB and Rapture actually once, though it goes definitively AU. I played Lee, Rayruz played Kara, and everyone else joined in on the fun too. Here's a link to the last part (http://no-takebacks.livejournal.com/127066.html) of it, though I think Ray made a post with the threads in chronological order somewhere....
no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 04:51 pm (UTC)This fandom is crammed with wonderful writers, and it never fails to amaze me just how good everyone is.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 11:52 pm (UTC)This one?
Date: 2011-11-23 04:52 am (UTC)Someone moves at the end of the Memorial Hall. It’s him. Kara keeps her eyes trained on the photograph. She raises a hand to her lips as though trying to feel Kat’s bravado on her face.
He comes up and wraps around her, pinning her arms awkwardly. Kara inhales and sighs. Lee presses his lips into her neck. She sinks back, safe for the first time in days, months, years.
(originally posted 1 Sept)
Re: This one?
Date: 2011-11-23 11:37 am (UTC)Re: This one?
Date: 2011-11-23 04:38 pm (UTC)The other rings many bells. Alas I did not write it.
Re: This one?
Date: 2011-11-23 05:03 pm (UTC)Re: This one?
Date: 2011-11-23 11:40 am (UTC)Re: This one?
Date: 2011-11-23 04:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 09:41 pm (UTC)Fallacy (http://foxrayne.livejournal.com/3271.html) by
”Almost Lucky” (http://elly427.livejournal.com/159943.html) by
”One or the Other Emptiness” (http://marenfic.livejournal.com/108010.html) by
”Anatomy of a Triangle” (http://daphnaea.livejournal.com/7329.html) by
”After the Dance” (http://ninety6tears.livejournal.com/19539.html) by
”The Chandrasekhar Limit” (http://littledust-fic.livejournal.com/24420.html#cutid1) by
”Hush” (http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4018406/Hush). In five minutes they can fill a room with what they're not saying, until she can't tell which are the words they have said and which are the ones they haven't.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 10:11 pm (UTC)The Limit, PG13
Date: 2011-11-22 09:44 pm (UTC)There's a limit, she thinks, to what human beings can endure. A threshold. A barrier, that if crossed, becomes unendurable. She looks back fondly now at the dozens of times she'd thought she'd hit that mark, only to be proven just how wrong she'd been by those fickle fates that dashed her broken spirit on the waves and jagged rocks again . . . and again, for sport. It seems that threshold is still further out, dangling, mocking her, waiting to break her for good. How she moves through her days now, she isn't certain. By ripping off the broken pieces that hurt too much to carry, she supposes. She feels lighter without them, but less too.
In truth, she is perpetually surprised to find herself still here at all, in spite of the suffering and regardless of her belief that she had fallen through the deepest cracks in the worlds, still moving through this semblance of her life. A shadow of a distant life and her, a memory of its former owner. Even her shadows have shadows these days, she thinks darkly as she catches sight of herself in the mirror. Bruises on top of bruises. Haunted circles beneath swollen eyes betraying her otherwise stoic pretense. But she doesn't back down from the looks she gets now. If a curious glance falls upon her on the flight deck, she seeks it out. Holds it angrily. Screaming silently with piercing bloodshot eyes for them to take in their fill of her damaged body and to guess just how deeply that damage has seeped into her bruised bones, poisoning her from the inside out. They always break away first. She considers it a victory these days, there are so few victories now. She smiles wolfishly as they scatter.
She hasn't thought about Lee since that night. Not since she rolled off him and they lay panting and exhausted upon the mat, wet with their sweat and blood, their limbs burning with acid, unmanageable and foreign. They had lain there in that ring for a long time, long after everyone else had surrendered the night for the comfort of their racks. Their spent bodies didn't move. Only their heads turned, in accord, inwards to meet and they held in that moment, eyes to eyes. They didn't speak, but they said everything to one another, just staring. Pleading and forgiving. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she knew that she must have because eventually her eyes opened, tight and painful, and he was gone. Every part of her ached. Beside her, she found a glass of water and two pills. She felt like yesterday's road kill as she dragged herself from the sticky surface of the mat. She lifted shakily onto unsteady legs and swallowed his peace offering, smiling at his small gesture. The barely mended cut on her lip burst from the movement but she didn't mind, at least it was something.
She can't bring herself to believe that their fight, cathartic though it had been, had truly solved anything between them, can't bring herself to hope. She sees him a few times afterwards. On the flight deck, in briefings and once in the CIC. He doesn't look away like the others do. She isn't surprised, he wears the same defiant look that she does. Daring her, daring everyone to comment. For once, no one does.
Days fade into weeks and vivid purple and black begin to dull into sluggish yellows and greens. As they diminish, she feels a weight going with them. It catches her off guard. The day that her eye goes down enough to see clearly through it again, she nearly catches herself smiling at the Chief on the deck. When she can shower without reopening any wounds, she comes out of the spray feeling almost real again, almost like a person and when Helo calls her name across the mess, she answers to her name which finally feels like hers again in a way that it hasn't since New Caprica. Eventually, as ribs knit and muscles bind, she begins to wonder just what their fist might be capable of after all.
Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-22 09:45 pm (UTC)She seeks him out. Corridors that so recently seemed empty and gray are now teeming with people, clamorous and vibrant. She wants that. That vibrant exuberant feeling. She remembers it once, with Lee. He's in a hallway, reading papers, head down. She walks straight up to him and reaches out for his arm. It doesn't hurt. She's surprised to notice that nothing hurts. She remembers, all the rage, the blame, the betrayals. All their cruel words tossed like grenades, aimed perfectly to inflict the most damage. They are all still there, but they don't overtake everything else. She smiles up at him, grateful.
He's thrown for a moment. Confusion mars his face and he can't immediately hide the inquisitive quirk of his head. His eyes narrow as he attempts to read her. He opens his mouth to frame a question but she can't have that, doesn't know the answers to any of his questions. She stops him with her fingers, light but clear and gives him a look he knows well. A very purposeful look that the two of them have been perfecting over the course of years, tweaking and honing to just the perfect calibration of desire. It is usually telegraphed quickly though, so that it is easily shrugged of a one's imagination or across distances where space creates safety or in the presence of others when playing with fire had been too tantalizing to resist. But right now it's none of those things, its long and close and only them. Her intention clear. She feels it sink in, sees his eyes widen, hears his breaths deepen, feels his muscle tense beneath her hand.
For just a moment, he leans into her and lets their forehead rest against one another, exhaling in relief. But she's too far gone with needing. Her insides hammering and pulsing like too much electricity in too small a space. Grabbing his hand she pulls him to the nearest open hatch, a storage locker she thinks. She's not sure. Her mind is racing from his touch and she can feel the thud of her heart for the first time in months. Her only conscious thought is of his name, a mantra inside her blood washing through every part of her. For a moment he resists her pull, uncertainty filling him but another look in her eyes and he has enough answers. He follows her into the dark room willingly, unable to resist her any longer. After all, he thinks as he slams shut the thick metal hatch, there are limits to what human beings can endure.
Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-22 10:03 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-23 02:13 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-22 10:31 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-22 10:34 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-22 10:47 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-23 02:15 pm (UTC)Thanks!
Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-23 02:15 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-23 04:33 am (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-11-23 02:17 pm (UTC)I was in a mood or something yesterday lol, but I'm happy you liked it! :)
Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-12-14 08:19 pm (UTC)Re: The Limit, PG13, Pt2
Date: 2011-12-14 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-22 11:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 11:48 am (UTC)Burns and Bruises, PG-13 1/2
Date: 2011-11-24 03:55 am (UTC)Because the raw, naked, heated longing in his eyes was just too much to go up against without a blast shield. So she ran her hand up her arm, reminding herself there is a mark there. Reminding herself that she could wrap herself in Sam to face down Lee like putting on a flight suit to step into empty space.
It was flight briefing--nothing special happening today. The same routine, usual, blah blah. The tenor drone of his voice cut straight through her, her chest ready to burst from it like he'd lit a fire. She shifted in her seat and rolled her shoulder, trying to work out the kinks. Her nose still throbbed. Cottle had cleaned it up where it busted, but she had heavy bruises beneath both of her eyes. She was trying not to look at him. Trying and failing miserably. Her eyes wanted him.
She lifted her heavy lids and her gaze pierced him, peering out at him from above the dark black circles. He was just as bad--moving gingerly all day around the tender bruises she had laid into his ribs and stomach. They discovered when they arrived that morning that neither of them were on rotation today. Their shifts had been mysteriously and silently picked up before they even hit the ready room.
He still tasted her lips on his. The salt tang of her sweat. Still felt her skin beneath his fingers, her body against his. The way she took his punches, her eyes begging for the anger. Punish me, I've done wrong even as her words goaded him further. He took a breath and looked down, clearing his throat.
They wore their bruises defiantly, daring anyone to comment. Daring someone to say something. To rib them. Starbuck may have sprained her wrist in the ring but she certainly wasn't beyond throwing another punch. They all knew it.
No one said anything. No one had to. There was a line of fire connecting them. When they were dismissed, everyone avoided stepping between them on their way out.
Kara had her foot propped up on the seat, one arm wrapped around her tucked up knee. She wasn't looking at him any longer, watching the pen she was wiggling back and forth through the air from sheer nervous energy. They were alone.
He cleared his throat and her eyes shot to his. She stilled.
"How's your nose?"
She raised an eyebrow. The two deep bruises beneath her eyes frightened him. They made him uneasy. Like maybe he should apologize. Or fix it. Or explain how he hurt her--why he hurt her. That every broken bone and drop of blood and blossoming bruise said I love you, I hate you, I love you. But she knew that already. She knew. And so he didn't know what to say.
She licked her lips briefly--the tip of her tongue darting out quickly before disappearing once more.
"S'fine." Her voice cracked.
He was standing beside the podium, watching her, his whole body strung tight. She dropped her foot to the ground and sat up straighter, clearing her throat.
"Kara," he was moving towards her, eyes so open and wanting that she couldn't do anything but move towards him as well, trap him in the cage of her arms, never let him go. If she could just hold him here, their hearts pounding against each other, then maybe she could breathe again without wanting to maim everyone she saw.
Burns and Bruises, PG-13 2/2
Date: 2011-11-24 03:56 am (UTC)And she couldn't.
He pulled back from her, his hand on her cheek, his fingers trailing along her jawbone and she tried to close her eyes, tried to shut him out, tried to make this just a thing she did for fun. Just a kiss, just a frak. Just some frustrations that needed to be let out. But when she opened her eyes she was lost in his. He leaned in and kissed her and she kissed him back, one arm wrapping around his neck, the other trailing low around him, pulling him tighter.
Gods, but she felt alive. Alive and bright and safe. Safe except that he would be taken away. The gods would find him. She was like a beacon, marking out destruction. And then he would be gone.
She pulled back from him with a shuddering breath and rested her forehead against his, their eyes closed. His fingers were playing in her hair, across the bruises on her face, behind her ear. He placed a gentle kiss against the bridge of her nose, just where it was busted and she winced. She welcomed the pain. She revelled in it. Make this painful. Make it hateful. Don't love it. Don't live for it. Make it something else. Don't need it. If you need it, they'll take it away.
And so she took a breath and wrapped her heart in Sam. This was wrong. She was treating Sam badly. This was not allowed. Make it wrong. Make it wrong. Make it wrong. But his breath against her skin, his hands in her hair, the way his heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her bones. It was oh so right.
His lips trailed against the sensitive skin beneath her ear and suddenly Sam was like a paper window trying to hold back a hurricane.
"Lee," she breathed against his ear.
And his legs began to give. He sat down hard on the floor, pulling her with him, straddling him and they both cringed as their tender places scraped and banged, but they laughed and laughed and her heart felt lighter than it had in years when she captured his lips in another hungry kiss. She'd been handed the sun, breaking through the clouds and playing across her face. How funny she'd never realized before that that's what he was--the sun god. How it made her want to cry.
And then she decided, and a tear dropped onto her cheek, brushed away by his thumb and his kisses like a ray of sunshine evaporating her sorrow. Screw fate. Screw the gods. Screw it all. Take the sun with both hands and don't stop to think how it burns.
Re: Burns and Bruises, PG-13 2/2
Date: 2011-11-24 04:23 am (UTC)Re: Burns and Bruises, PG-13 2/2
Date: 2011-11-24 12:23 pm (UTC)Re: Burns and Bruises, PG-13 2/2
Date: 2011-12-14 08:35 pm (UTC)