Sweet Drabble Sunday
Mar. 11th, 2012 11:12 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Hello Shippers! I've had a great and emotional week exploring our angstiest feelings about pilots. Thank you all so much for the supportive and thoughtful discussions. I've learned a lot and might have even answered some of my own questions. (I am sure more will come later!) :D
Today, I'd like to end on a sweet note. Write a sweet, happy, or sexy drabble that celebrates that best that pilots can be. We love their hugs and unspoken support and I'd love to see some drabbles that express that for you.
Leave prompts in the form of ordinary objects found on Galactica or Pegasus.
Wishing Well Update
Wishes should be granted by tonight midnight (EST).
Wishes Filled
Wish granted for
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damao2010: The Road Not Taken (R) by workerbee73.Tomorrow, I'll post a masterlist of all the wishes granted this week. Thank you all so much for being so generous with your time and talent. <3
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Date: 2012-03-11 03:12 pm (UTC)Artemis, PG-13 (1/2)
Date: 2012-03-11 05:12 pm (UTC)It starts when Lee walks into the bunkroom one afternoon, still dripping water from his lukewarm shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. The place is empty at this time of the day, his pilots out on CAP, catching a maintenance shift, or finding some kind of merriment for a sliver of time in their day. It’s why Lee likes to shower then, because he knows it means he’s usually got the place to himself. So he can linger as he dresses, whistle as he works, actually think without another million voices singing into his ears and clouding his thoughts.
He quickly realizes he isn’t alone, however, and as he shuts the hatch behind him, he catches sight of damp blonde hair. That’s right, he remembers now, he’d seen Starbuck leaving the head just as he was going in. She’s kneeling on bare legs beside her rack, barely dressed in briefs and a tank. Lee doesn’t even understand it, but his skin gets clammy as he passes her, eyes lingering for a second, painfully aware of how much skin she’s showing and from the curve of unrestrained breasts, that she’s clearly without a bra. His mouth goes dry, but he just moves on, swallows away thoughts that have been plaguing him for years now and have only gotten worse since the end of the worlds. It’s taken all the restraint in the world to not look across to her stall in the showers or as she gets dressed afterward in the senior pilots’ quarters, but he’d be lying if he said he’d never caught a glimpse of a light pink nipple and it hadn’t fueled some of his better masturbatory fantasies as of late.
Lee opens the door to his locker, fishes out his own set of clothes as he tries not to imagine Kara and just how much she isn’t wearing, all the while hearing her soft whispered words. They’re too low to be clearly audible, but every so often hearing a single word pronounced more carefully than the others. It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s praying.
He’s got his own briefs on by time Kara’s head lifts—something he catches in his peripheral vision—and she looks to him as though she somehow wasn’t aware of his presence while lost in the trance. Kara’s movements are shy and timid, quickly rolling away the metal statues into the cloth she keeps them in, tucking them under her arm as if ashamed. Her face ducks away from Lee, and as she rushes to her locker, she says nothing to him. In her haste, one of the figures slips from the cloth and tumbles to the ground, filling the bunkroom with a loud clatter as it hits the metal flooring. She moves to pick it up but Lee’s faster, getting it within his hand as he stands and finally offers it to her.
“Artemis,” he says. Lee may not be religious, but he still knows the symbols of the Gods. They’ve been hard to ignore. The corner of his mouth quirks into a smile as his thumb rubs over the darkened length of the God’s skirt, tarnished from years of abuse. “Yeah, you’re definitely an Artemis.”
Kara’s cheeks burn hot in embarrassment and she quickly swipes the figure back from him, tucking it away into the back of her locker. “What of it? Gonna give me a speech about how you’d expect more from me than to be swept up in dumb old stories about the Gods?”
Lee just lets her tone go, because he more than knows by now that Kara resorts to such treatment as a way of shielding herself, a way of acute self-preservation. Push her and it only gets worse. “No,” he finally says and continues to keep dressing. He’s pulling on his gym shorts before he speaks up again. “Do you want to go for a run?”
Kara stills and finally nods, not to him, but to the space of her locker. “Yeah.”
—
After the next morning’s pilots brief and his daily meeting with that miserable XO, Lee returns to the bunkroom once more while Kara’s out on the first CAP. In one hand, he has a small bowl, filled with a foul smelling thick paste made of salt, vinegar, and a pinch of flour to thicken it up, while an old cloth rag is in the other. He sets the bowl on the table and on his walk towards Kara’s locker, quickly checks all the bunks for their emptiness. Reassured, he opens the slatted door and reaches towards the back, groping blindly until he finds what he’s looking for.
Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-11 05:17 pm (UTC)Back at the table, Lee carefully, and with a hint of guilt, unrolls the fabric and the figurines. He unbuttons and folds up each of his sleeves and then gets to work with an eye on the clock, methodically taking some of the goop and covering each of the statues.
It takes him awhile, adding more of the homemade cleaner and then rubbing it into the metal, reworking each piece until the dark tarnished spots are mostly gone. These figures are old—they’ll never look brand new—but he breathes easy knowing he’s gotten them as clean and polished as they’ll ever get.
He’s in the middle of a final polishing when the hatch opens. Lee’s not too concerned. A few pilots have been in and out in the hour since he started, glancing curiously to the CAG but never saying much to disturb him. There’s a certain strength to the slamming of the hatch door, though, that makes him look up and find Kara there, angrily pulling at her flight suit gloves and the zipper at her throat. Without a look to him, she throws her gloves into her rack, smacks her hand into the bunk above her.
“Frakking Chief, Lee,” she speaks through gritted teeth and forces her arms from the sleeves of her flight suit. “Those Gods damn knuckledraggers never fix anything. I’m out on a pass around the fleet and my left thruster goes out. Again. How many times have they said they fixed that? What if it was in the middle of a dog fight? I’d be frakking dead.” Kara’s lost in her blind fury for a moment, side of her hand brushing across her sweat damp forehead before she finally turns and really takes a look at him where he sits, frozen, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
She’s just as unmoving as he is, brow furrowing in a flash of betrayal. He’s been in her things. He’s touching her belongings. If she wasn’t already angry before, she suddenly gets hit by a wave of it, ready to open her mouth and unleash on him the kind of fury from Kara Thrace he’s so rarely seen before first hand—but she takes another look at the blackness of the rag he’s been using, how he must’ve been at it for awhile, and at how her figures shine brighter than she’s ever seen them. It keeps her from tearing his head off, at least.
“Kara…” Lee starts, knowing just how closely he is to a hungry lion’s open jaws. This had all seemed like a good idea last night and this morning. He would polish them while she was out, replace them where they’d been, and Kara would be none the wiser. She wouldn’t be able to pin it on him. On Galactica and since the end of the worlds, however, things never worked out quite the right way.
Taking a deep, calming, breath, Kara crosses the few steps of distance to where he sits in the chair at the head of the long table. From behind him, she leans forward, wraps her arms around and over his shoulders to meet at his front, and swiftly kisses his cheek. Her cheek brushes up against his, her smooth skin against his more scratchy type, while she stretches one of her arms forward to brush bare fingertips over the figure in his hand. It’s that Artemis statute again. “Thanks, Lee.”
All over, Lee’s skin burns, and not just where she’s touching him. It’s an unprecedented type of intimacy with her, something not fueled by a more extreme emotion—and Kara always seems to live at one end of the extreme. It’s soft, and gentle, and most of all, unexpected. He doesn’t move while she’s against him, and if he were a braver man, Lee thinks he would turn his head a little, press his mouth to hers and revisit the sensation he’s wanted to feel since that dining room table. He doesn’t, though, and just wills his heartbeat to slow down.
Kara pulls away a moment later, but neither will be able to forget just how long she lingered against him.
Lee looks to the figure of Artemis and Aphrodite, one in his hand and the other on the table, respectively, and thinks that for the first time he believes in the Gods.
Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-11 05:34 pm (UTC)Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-12 08:45 pm (UTC)Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-11 06:15 pm (UTC)Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-12 08:45 pm (UTC)Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-12 06:10 pm (UTC)Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-12 08:46 pm (UTC)Re: Artemis, PG-13 (2/2)
Date: 2012-03-13 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 03:14 pm (UTC)Civilized, G
Date: 2012-03-12 06:02 pm (UTC)"Thank you, Lee." Her tone was gentle but he absolutely did not feel a flutter in his chest. Rather than respond in an appropriate amount of time, he contemplated reaching around her to place the glasses in the sink. He wasn't sure when his arms would stop, though, if he could resist pressing her (and his luck) back into the counter. He was too sleepy to make such important decisions.
Maybe if he responded, she'd shift a bit. "Just doing my part to civilize you," he quipped with not a bit of sting in his tone.
She made to whack him and he jumped, losing control of one of the glasses and in slow motion, they scrambled, hands and glass and sparks intermingling mid-air. He didn't know how they prevented a crash but then he also didn't know how he ended up with his hand on the small of her back or with her arms around him, a glass in each of her hands. All the scrambling was in vain, though if they were trying to keep quiet: the laughter was not held in check.
She stretched, placed the glasses in the sink. He closed his eyes for a split second, hoping she meant for her hair to graze his cheek, holding on just a little too tightly. Unfortunately, he also sighed.
The sound of his voice broke the spell for him, and he snatched his hand off of her and tried to step away with some shred of dignity left intact. “Good night, Kara, thanks for the drinks...again.”
“Well, he’s like a puppy when he knows his big brother’s in town, hard to contain and harder to live with. The only cure is to bring you around, so I make do somehow...” Her grin lit up her whole face and that shred of dignity was forgotten momentarily. Some part of his brain wondered how she always seemed to be more in control when he knew (she’d admitted) that she felt it, too.
Lee felt the grin spreading to his face and made himself turn to go. “Oh, here!” he stuttered, turning back to hand her the last glass, forgotten in his hand. Their fingers touched and he forced himself not to react to the energy released by the contact.
Lee was delighted to note, as he stepped into the hall outside the apartment, that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes barely left her own hand to acknowledge his quick goodbye.
Re: Civilized, G
Date: 2012-03-12 06:24 pm (UTC)Re: Civilized, G
Date: 2012-03-12 08:42 pm (UTC)Re: Civilized, G
Date: 2012-03-12 10:23 pm (UTC)Re: Civilized, G
Date: 2012-03-13 12:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 03:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 06:19 pm (UTC)