This was wrong. It was completely and utterly wrong. She was bad. She was sinful. She was wicked. When she wrapped herself in that, it was all right.
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.
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timeasmymeasure
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.