BSG, One Drunken Evening
Title: One Drunken Evening
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my toys, not my sandbox.
Summary: Just another day in the life of Kara Thrace.
Notes: Thanks to queenofalostart for the kick ass beta and generally all-around awesomeness. To lalejandra for the original inspiration of the "room". And to K, Trix and Pen for playing along.
One Drunken Evening
Kara had just about enough of this entire fraking ship. First it was Kat with her 'I am bigger badass than you' attitude, then it was the whispers about JoJo and 'her fault' and now Lee had just shot her down with some bullshit about being her friend. Kara doesn't need a friend right now. She just needs some way to relieve tension.
"Starbuck. Starbuck! Kara! What the frak?"
Helo, perfect. Just what she needs, the one guy that was so fraked up he'd managed to fall in love with the enemy. Somewhere Aphrodite is having a wonderful laugh at their expense.
She lets him direct her down a side-corridor that she generally bypasses on her morning jogs and into a room and shut the door behind him. Crossing his arms, he stands between her and the exit in some sort of stance that would have looked imposing to anyone but her.
"Yeah?"
He just shakes his head. "What's your deal, Thrace?"
"My deal? My *deal*?" Kara smirks and walks slowly toward him until she is almost at his chin. She looks up slowly and clenches her jaw. "My deal is that I need to get laid. And considering the nuggets are scared of me, the CAG is still mooning over the last girl he fraked, and Tigh doesn't really do it for me, I'm left with not a lot of options. *That* is my deal."
Helo smiles a slow, patient smile. "Lee turn you down?"
Kara pushes away. "Frak you, Karl."
"Easy, Kara, at the rate you're going I might be your only option," he says with that same damnable smile.
"You?" Kara scoffs. "The great lover of the Cylons? Pssh. Whatever, Helo."
The smile vanishes in an instant, and suddenly the imposing stance became less about keeping people out and more about keeping her *in*. Not that he wasn't doing that earlier, but now he's more menacing about it, or at least as menacing as a person can seem after you've seen them puking their guts up on the steps of an Oracle. The fact that Helo seems to feel the need to keep Kara tucked away from everyone else, says something that she's not one-hundred percent comfortable with at the moment. He takes one step forward and opens his mouth, but before he can speak, Kara holds up her hand, waving off any comment.
"I'm sorry Karl that was. Well, it wasn't fair. I'm just-"
The rest of her words are cut off by a knock at the door.
Helo turns around and swings the wheel, pushing open to reveal Adama the senior.
"Admiral," Helo says with a nod.
"Helo," Adama replies. "I think I can take it from here."
"Yes sir." Helo casts one last glance back at Kara before leaving.
Kara stands in the corner, rubbing her eyes and hoping that the Gods will make this moment at least go by quickly. She's drunk, tired and still in need of some sort of release. Although at this moment, she'd settle for a good old-fashioned bar fight. And since the only way she sees that happening is if she gets out of this fracking room, it's in her best interests to play nice. Besides, the Old Man definitely didn't need to know that she'd almost collected a pair of the famous flying Adamas.
"Sir," she exhales, looking anywhere but at him.
"Kara." He stops, looking for once at a loss for where to go from here. It's a strange moment and Kara's not sure how to react so for once she does the smart thing and just waits for him to find his place. "Kara, I know it's not easy. I know that you have-" He stops again and just looks at her.
She opens her mouth to say something, anything to stop the silence. But what comes out is the worst thing she could say. "I'm fine sir."
A soft laugh escapes from Adama. "No you're not. You're falling apart, these kids keep dying and my son is off fraking prostitutes because he's so damn in love with you he can't see straight. Plus, we're being attacked by a robot with a personality. You're not fine, Kara." He takes three steps and somehow ends up right in front of her. He reaches for her hand and brings it to his lips. He flips her hand over and kisses the base of her wrist.
As his lips linger there, a head suddenly pokes through the door.
"Sir? Is there a problem?" Tigh blusters into the room, stealing whatever moment had been about to happen away.
"No, Saul. Everything's fine. I was just confirming that with Starbuck here." Adama pauses. "Right Kara?"
She nods quickly. "Right sir."
"Well if Starbuck's done taking up your time, I think the President needs us for the debrief." Tigh motions in the direction of the shuttle bay.
Adama gives Kara a slow once-over and smiles when he finally reaches her eyes. "I think we're done here for now." The way his voice slurs the last word, she knows that this is not one of those conversations, pleasantly swept under the rug.
Kara watches them both leave off on another one of the President's errands and then slides down against the wall. A yawn escapes and she shuts her eyes, too tired to contemplate walking the halls.
She wakes up bleary-eyed when two people burst into the room, too tied up in each other to notice that someone else is there. Kara judges the distance between her location, the door, and the nearest large object. Determining that it's better to hide than make a break for it, she scurries behind the drawing board that is propped up against a desk. This must be some sort of catchall storage room that the crew has taken to using for secret 'meetings,' which fits in wonderfully with her luck for the night. However, if she's not getting any, at least some people are.
Taking mental bets with herself, Kara sneaks a peek to see if she can figure out who's using what she's decided to call the "Frak Room." She's narrowed it down to not being anyone from the deck crew when the person with their back to Kara slides down.
And suddenly Kara has a front side show to Lt. Gaeta getting a blowjob. Now Kara realizes that Gaeta's long been a part of the Triad crowd and so was dubbed an honorary pilot long ago, but he's never seemed to be the type for clandestine blowjobs. Then again, very few people are, Helo being the best example (pre-Caprica Helo that is).
Gaeta's got his hands doing that cute motion with his hands, where he's not really sure where to put them. He goes from pressing against his stomach, to holding himself up, to gently placing them on the shoulders of whomever it is sucking him off. It's quite an adorable look in a very strange situation. Kara's currently running through scenarios in which she could a) help Gaeta out with whole 'where do my hands go?' by directing them to whoever's hair b) bribe her way out of paperwork for life or c) accomplish both at the same time.
The slurping noises are beginning to compete with Gaeta's moans and Kara's very afraid that at any moment she might make a sound thereby alerting the other two to her presence. This thought goes away when Gaeta suddenly cries out and reaches his hands down to brace himself on the other person's shoulders.
Five minutes give or take, Kara's fairly impressed at the mystery person's blow job abilities.
After Gaeta's gathered enough energy, he pulls the other person to their feet and in his unsteadiness; Kara catches a glimpse of their face. She had no idea that Racetrack was into fraking officers and as Gaeta pushes her against the wall, Kara's estimation of the pilot jumps upward by at least three notches (at least two of those are because of the blow job).
Gaeta still doesn't seem like he's one-hundred percent back on solid standing, but by bracing himself onto Racetrack and the wall, he's faking it pretty fraking well. He's kissing her neck and tracing his hands down the front of her uniform.
Kara's beginning to change her estimate that this was a first time thing, it seems more as though each person knows where to touch the other to bring out the optimal response. In Kara's experience, such things aren't generally found out on the first frak.
Gaeta undoes Racetrack's pants and pushes them down; he then braces one hand against her hip and reaches the other around the front-side of her underwear. Based on the hitches in Racetrack's breath, he's not only done this before, but he's figured out the quickest way to accomplish his goals.
Racetrack's not much of a screamer, heavy breather, curser, or anything really. She just seems to inch her way up the wall until she's standing on her tiptoes, and then collapses so that she's relying on Gaeta to hold her up.
They've *definitely* done this before, Kara decides.
They stand there leaning against each other with their foreheads pressed against each other's and just seem to breathe. No sense of hurry or need to dress, no shame or awkwardness, just two people enjoying a moment together.
Kara finally feels she's intruding on something special, something sacred between two people, and she slides back further into the corner and closes her eyes.
She doesn't have time to fall back into the blessed oblivion of sleep when two more people enter the room. Kara's starting to get annoyed that there is a so-called "Frak Room" she was never told about. Then again Kara's never been one for sneaking around in dark corners worried that other people would find out who she was fraking. In most cases, she just comes out and point-blank tells people. Life is too short for secrecy.
But maybe she's wrong. It certainly seemed like some people got off on ducking and hiding. And it's not as though they needed to anymore, it's not like regs are being followed all that strongly anymore.
A familiar giggle pierces her subconscious and when she dares to lean around the drawing board she has to admit that some regs were bent more often than others. Fracking a subordinate had the harshest penalty, but creating a still and then drinking unregistered alcohol wasn't far behind. Based on Cally's laughter and the Chief's attempts to quiet her, they were going for a clean regs sweep.
Cally was far gone, her legs seemed to buckle and before she could fall down, the Chief grabbing her by the front of her coveralls. Fraking a drunken subordinate while on duty was probably worth at least an hour lecture nowadays. It's not like the Old Man could do anything about the Chief anymore, he'd already pulled Tyrol's ass out of the fire too many damn times. And everybody loved Cally, Kara bet even the frackin' Cylons would love Cally if given the chance. She was just one of those people.
One of those drunken hiccupping people at the moment who seems torn between passing out and throwing up. Which meant they probably weren't in the Frak Room to frak but because-
Kara rubs her fingers against her lip, trying to puzzle things out. It didn't seem to make a lot of sense, unless. But Cally wasn't that devious. Was she? Kara ducks her head back around and can't believe what she was seeing. Sweet, innocent Cally had faked her drunkenness in order to get the Chief alone (or so she thought) and take advantage of him.
Good plan, Kara thinks with some jealousy. Hopefully she'll have better luck with the end results than Kara had with her plan to get Lee drunk.
Meanwhile, Cally had 'regained' her balance and was now sitting on a nearby table and letting her legs swing back and forth. She pats the area beside her and the Chief ambles (there really was no other way to describe how he walked when he was drunk, almost a sway, close to a roiling step, but with a slowness) over to her. He sits down on the table beside her with an easy grace. The habits of working together for so long lead him to put his arm behind her for support and she leans in with a gentle smirk.
Thus far, Kara had to give Cally credit. She'd managed to get Tyrol pretty close to the perfect position and she hadn't even had to ask. Kara makes a mental note to do some digging on Cally's background.
The Chief's starting to get that far-away look that meant he was thinking of Boomer when Cally did a very surprising thing. She tickles him and doesn't give up until the two of them were almost on top of each other across the table. Before the Chief has a chance to sit up or move or in any way change positions, she kisses him. And not a sweet innocent Cally-type kiss, either.
Kara immediately changes all preconceived notions of every person she has ever met (except Tigh). If Cally could trick someone and Gaeta could get blowjobs and Lee could turn down free sex, well obviously, Kara's a shitty judge of character.
Cally manages to slide one leg between the Chief's and was slowly riding him up and down. She kept up the distraction while letting her hands drift down his sides. The Chief started laughing again and twisted so that his back was to the wall and Cally was now astride his lap.
Straining to hear their words, all Kara could make out was a rumble followed by a faint, "Yes." She could see Cally's hands reach out for the front of her coveralls and slowly upzip the top portion. The Chief's hands reach out slowly to brush over Cally's lips and then her neck and then with a big gulp (Kara tells herself sternly not to laugh) down to her chest. He leans in and kisses a soft, slow line from her ears down to the top of her shoulder.
Cally bites her bottom lip and shivers, thereby making the top of her coverall fall off to her mid-back. Kara made a note of this move, which while more subtle than she usually employed, was still pretty fraking slick.
The Chief seemingly agrees, drawing his hands to Cally's shoulders and then slowly around her back. He nuzzles his way back to the bottom of her neck and then gently pushed Cally backward.
Kara can hear bits of words, enough to know that the Chief's not talking about machinery or the crew. Well, he might have been comparing Cally to machinery; it was hard to differentiate that from across the room. Whatever he was saying seemed to be doing something.
He continues to draw lazy circles around Cally's bare back and moves his mouth lower on her chest. He opens his mouth to take her nipple in his mouth, when a shipboard announcement interrupts--.
"-the Chief please report to the CIC. I repeat, will the Chief please report to the CIC."
He growls loudly enough that Kara could hear. Something about duty and pleasure and which comes first before picking Cally up and moving her beside him. He slides off the table, turns around and pulls Cally to him. Kissing her more deeply than he had before, he reaches for her zipper and pulls it up. He breaks away, breathing slightly heavy and says, "We'll finish this later. Just leave the ambrosia in your rack next time. I want you to remember every bit of this."
He looks down, adjusts the front of his coveralls and walks for the door. "You know, I don't think I want you in here without me. Who knows what kind of people come in here?"
Cally jumps off the table and rushed over to the door, obviously over her 'drunkenness' episode. "I can't even begin to imagine, Chief."
As he reaches for the door, Kara hears the Chief add, "You do realize that you don't have to call me 'Chief' when we're- you know."
"Whatever you say, Chief," Cally replies as the door clicks softly behind them.
Glad that they'd left, Kara finally couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. It was nice to see that for once the promise of sex wasn't going to change things. At least for some people.
She climbs from behind the board and stretches her muscles. Most of the ambrosia had long worn off, but she was going to be feeling the effects of sleeping propped up against a wall for a while. Maybe a quick trip to the showers to loosen her muscles before bed was in order. That and a good workout tomorrow should put her back to normal.
Or as normal as one gets on a ship guarding what was left of humanity, being attacked by a robot with a grudge and with no sign of relief (or sex) on the horizon.
Just another day in the life of Kara Thrace.
But at least she got another day, that's more than some.
And her life was better than most.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my toys, not my sandbox.
Summary: Just another day in the life of Kara Thrace.
Notes: Thanks to queenofalostart for the kick ass beta and generally all-around awesomeness. To lalejandra for the original inspiration of the "room". And to K, Trix and Pen for playing along.
One Drunken Evening
Kara had just about enough of this entire fraking ship. First it was Kat with her 'I am bigger badass than you' attitude, then it was the whispers about JoJo and 'her fault' and now Lee had just shot her down with some bullshit about being her friend. Kara doesn't need a friend right now. She just needs some way to relieve tension.
"Starbuck. Starbuck! Kara! What the frak?"
Helo, perfect. Just what she needs, the one guy that was so fraked up he'd managed to fall in love with the enemy. Somewhere Aphrodite is having a wonderful laugh at their expense.
She lets him direct her down a side-corridor that she generally bypasses on her morning jogs and into a room and shut the door behind him. Crossing his arms, he stands between her and the exit in some sort of stance that would have looked imposing to anyone but her.
"Yeah?"
He just shakes his head. "What's your deal, Thrace?"
"My deal? My *deal*?" Kara smirks and walks slowly toward him until she is almost at his chin. She looks up slowly and clenches her jaw. "My deal is that I need to get laid. And considering the nuggets are scared of me, the CAG is still mooning over the last girl he fraked, and Tigh doesn't really do it for me, I'm left with not a lot of options. *That* is my deal."
Helo smiles a slow, patient smile. "Lee turn you down?"
Kara pushes away. "Frak you, Karl."
"Easy, Kara, at the rate you're going I might be your only option," he says with that same damnable smile.
"You?" Kara scoffs. "The great lover of the Cylons? Pssh. Whatever, Helo."
The smile vanishes in an instant, and suddenly the imposing stance became less about keeping people out and more about keeping her *in*. Not that he wasn't doing that earlier, but now he's more menacing about it, or at least as menacing as a person can seem after you've seen them puking their guts up on the steps of an Oracle. The fact that Helo seems to feel the need to keep Kara tucked away from everyone else, says something that she's not one-hundred percent comfortable with at the moment. He takes one step forward and opens his mouth, but before he can speak, Kara holds up her hand, waving off any comment.
"I'm sorry Karl that was. Well, it wasn't fair. I'm just-"
The rest of her words are cut off by a knock at the door.
Helo turns around and swings the wheel, pushing open to reveal Adama the senior.
"Admiral," Helo says with a nod.
"Helo," Adama replies. "I think I can take it from here."
"Yes sir." Helo casts one last glance back at Kara before leaving.
Kara stands in the corner, rubbing her eyes and hoping that the Gods will make this moment at least go by quickly. She's drunk, tired and still in need of some sort of release. Although at this moment, she'd settle for a good old-fashioned bar fight. And since the only way she sees that happening is if she gets out of this fracking room, it's in her best interests to play nice. Besides, the Old Man definitely didn't need to know that she'd almost collected a pair of the famous flying Adamas.
"Sir," she exhales, looking anywhere but at him.
"Kara." He stops, looking for once at a loss for where to go from here. It's a strange moment and Kara's not sure how to react so for once she does the smart thing and just waits for him to find his place. "Kara, I know it's not easy. I know that you have-" He stops again and just looks at her.
She opens her mouth to say something, anything to stop the silence. But what comes out is the worst thing she could say. "I'm fine sir."
A soft laugh escapes from Adama. "No you're not. You're falling apart, these kids keep dying and my son is off fraking prostitutes because he's so damn in love with you he can't see straight. Plus, we're being attacked by a robot with a personality. You're not fine, Kara." He takes three steps and somehow ends up right in front of her. He reaches for her hand and brings it to his lips. He flips her hand over and kisses the base of her wrist.
As his lips linger there, a head suddenly pokes through the door.
"Sir? Is there a problem?" Tigh blusters into the room, stealing whatever moment had been about to happen away.
"No, Saul. Everything's fine. I was just confirming that with Starbuck here." Adama pauses. "Right Kara?"
She nods quickly. "Right sir."
"Well if Starbuck's done taking up your time, I think the President needs us for the debrief." Tigh motions in the direction of the shuttle bay.
Adama gives Kara a slow once-over and smiles when he finally reaches her eyes. "I think we're done here for now." The way his voice slurs the last word, she knows that this is not one of those conversations, pleasantly swept under the rug.
Kara watches them both leave off on another one of the President's errands and then slides down against the wall. A yawn escapes and she shuts her eyes, too tired to contemplate walking the halls.
She wakes up bleary-eyed when two people burst into the room, too tied up in each other to notice that someone else is there. Kara judges the distance between her location, the door, and the nearest large object. Determining that it's better to hide than make a break for it, she scurries behind the drawing board that is propped up against a desk. This must be some sort of catchall storage room that the crew has taken to using for secret 'meetings,' which fits in wonderfully with her luck for the night. However, if she's not getting any, at least some people are.
Taking mental bets with herself, Kara sneaks a peek to see if she can figure out who's using what she's decided to call the "Frak Room." She's narrowed it down to not being anyone from the deck crew when the person with their back to Kara slides down.
And suddenly Kara has a front side show to Lt. Gaeta getting a blowjob. Now Kara realizes that Gaeta's long been a part of the Triad crowd and so was dubbed an honorary pilot long ago, but he's never seemed to be the type for clandestine blowjobs. Then again, very few people are, Helo being the best example (pre-Caprica Helo that is).
Gaeta's got his hands doing that cute motion with his hands, where he's not really sure where to put them. He goes from pressing against his stomach, to holding himself up, to gently placing them on the shoulders of whomever it is sucking him off. It's quite an adorable look in a very strange situation. Kara's currently running through scenarios in which she could a) help Gaeta out with whole 'where do my hands go?' by directing them to whoever's hair b) bribe her way out of paperwork for life or c) accomplish both at the same time.
The slurping noises are beginning to compete with Gaeta's moans and Kara's very afraid that at any moment she might make a sound thereby alerting the other two to her presence. This thought goes away when Gaeta suddenly cries out and reaches his hands down to brace himself on the other person's shoulders.
Five minutes give or take, Kara's fairly impressed at the mystery person's blow job abilities.
After Gaeta's gathered enough energy, he pulls the other person to their feet and in his unsteadiness; Kara catches a glimpse of their face. She had no idea that Racetrack was into fraking officers and as Gaeta pushes her against the wall, Kara's estimation of the pilot jumps upward by at least three notches (at least two of those are because of the blow job).
Gaeta still doesn't seem like he's one-hundred percent back on solid standing, but by bracing himself onto Racetrack and the wall, he's faking it pretty fraking well. He's kissing her neck and tracing his hands down the front of her uniform.
Kara's beginning to change her estimate that this was a first time thing, it seems more as though each person knows where to touch the other to bring out the optimal response. In Kara's experience, such things aren't generally found out on the first frak.
Gaeta undoes Racetrack's pants and pushes them down; he then braces one hand against her hip and reaches the other around the front-side of her underwear. Based on the hitches in Racetrack's breath, he's not only done this before, but he's figured out the quickest way to accomplish his goals.
Racetrack's not much of a screamer, heavy breather, curser, or anything really. She just seems to inch her way up the wall until she's standing on her tiptoes, and then collapses so that she's relying on Gaeta to hold her up.
They've *definitely* done this before, Kara decides.
They stand there leaning against each other with their foreheads pressed against each other's and just seem to breathe. No sense of hurry or need to dress, no shame or awkwardness, just two people enjoying a moment together.
Kara finally feels she's intruding on something special, something sacred between two people, and she slides back further into the corner and closes her eyes.
She doesn't have time to fall back into the blessed oblivion of sleep when two more people enter the room. Kara's starting to get annoyed that there is a so-called "Frak Room" she was never told about. Then again Kara's never been one for sneaking around in dark corners worried that other people would find out who she was fraking. In most cases, she just comes out and point-blank tells people. Life is too short for secrecy.
But maybe she's wrong. It certainly seemed like some people got off on ducking and hiding. And it's not as though they needed to anymore, it's not like regs are being followed all that strongly anymore.
A familiar giggle pierces her subconscious and when she dares to lean around the drawing board she has to admit that some regs were bent more often than others. Fracking a subordinate had the harshest penalty, but creating a still and then drinking unregistered alcohol wasn't far behind. Based on Cally's laughter and the Chief's attempts to quiet her, they were going for a clean regs sweep.
Cally was far gone, her legs seemed to buckle and before she could fall down, the Chief grabbing her by the front of her coveralls. Fraking a drunken subordinate while on duty was probably worth at least an hour lecture nowadays. It's not like the Old Man could do anything about the Chief anymore, he'd already pulled Tyrol's ass out of the fire too many damn times. And everybody loved Cally, Kara bet even the frackin' Cylons would love Cally if given the chance. She was just one of those people.
One of those drunken hiccupping people at the moment who seems torn between passing out and throwing up. Which meant they probably weren't in the Frak Room to frak but because-
Kara rubs her fingers against her lip, trying to puzzle things out. It didn't seem to make a lot of sense, unless. But Cally wasn't that devious. Was she? Kara ducks her head back around and can't believe what she was seeing. Sweet, innocent Cally had faked her drunkenness in order to get the Chief alone (or so she thought) and take advantage of him.
Good plan, Kara thinks with some jealousy. Hopefully she'll have better luck with the end results than Kara had with her plan to get Lee drunk.
Meanwhile, Cally had 'regained' her balance and was now sitting on a nearby table and letting her legs swing back and forth. She pats the area beside her and the Chief ambles (there really was no other way to describe how he walked when he was drunk, almost a sway, close to a roiling step, but with a slowness) over to her. He sits down on the table beside her with an easy grace. The habits of working together for so long lead him to put his arm behind her for support and she leans in with a gentle smirk.
Thus far, Kara had to give Cally credit. She'd managed to get Tyrol pretty close to the perfect position and she hadn't even had to ask. Kara makes a mental note to do some digging on Cally's background.
The Chief's starting to get that far-away look that meant he was thinking of Boomer when Cally did a very surprising thing. She tickles him and doesn't give up until the two of them were almost on top of each other across the table. Before the Chief has a chance to sit up or move or in any way change positions, she kisses him. And not a sweet innocent Cally-type kiss, either.
Kara immediately changes all preconceived notions of every person she has ever met (except Tigh). If Cally could trick someone and Gaeta could get blowjobs and Lee could turn down free sex, well obviously, Kara's a shitty judge of character.
Cally manages to slide one leg between the Chief's and was slowly riding him up and down. She kept up the distraction while letting her hands drift down his sides. The Chief started laughing again and twisted so that his back was to the wall and Cally was now astride his lap.
Straining to hear their words, all Kara could make out was a rumble followed by a faint, "Yes." She could see Cally's hands reach out for the front of her coveralls and slowly upzip the top portion. The Chief's hands reach out slowly to brush over Cally's lips and then her neck and then with a big gulp (Kara tells herself sternly not to laugh) down to her chest. He leans in and kisses a soft, slow line from her ears down to the top of her shoulder.
Cally bites her bottom lip and shivers, thereby making the top of her coverall fall off to her mid-back. Kara made a note of this move, which while more subtle than she usually employed, was still pretty fraking slick.
The Chief seemingly agrees, drawing his hands to Cally's shoulders and then slowly around her back. He nuzzles his way back to the bottom of her neck and then gently pushed Cally backward.
Kara can hear bits of words, enough to know that the Chief's not talking about machinery or the crew. Well, he might have been comparing Cally to machinery; it was hard to differentiate that from across the room. Whatever he was saying seemed to be doing something.
He continues to draw lazy circles around Cally's bare back and moves his mouth lower on her chest. He opens his mouth to take her nipple in his mouth, when a shipboard announcement interrupts--.
"-the Chief please report to the CIC. I repeat, will the Chief please report to the CIC."
He growls loudly enough that Kara could hear. Something about duty and pleasure and which comes first before picking Cally up and moving her beside him. He slides off the table, turns around and pulls Cally to him. Kissing her more deeply than he had before, he reaches for her zipper and pulls it up. He breaks away, breathing slightly heavy and says, "We'll finish this later. Just leave the ambrosia in your rack next time. I want you to remember every bit of this."
He looks down, adjusts the front of his coveralls and walks for the door. "You know, I don't think I want you in here without me. Who knows what kind of people come in here?"
Cally jumps off the table and rushed over to the door, obviously over her 'drunkenness' episode. "I can't even begin to imagine, Chief."
As he reaches for the door, Kara hears the Chief add, "You do realize that you don't have to call me 'Chief' when we're- you know."
"Whatever you say, Chief," Cally replies as the door clicks softly behind them.
Glad that they'd left, Kara finally couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. It was nice to see that for once the promise of sex wasn't going to change things. At least for some people.
She climbs from behind the board and stretches her muscles. Most of the ambrosia had long worn off, but she was going to be feeling the effects of sleeping propped up against a wall for a while. Maybe a quick trip to the showers to loosen her muscles before bed was in order. That and a good workout tomorrow should put her back to normal.
Or as normal as one gets on a ship guarding what was left of humanity, being attacked by a robot with a grudge and with no sign of relief (or sex) on the horizon.
Just another day in the life of Kara Thrace.
But at least she got another day, that's more than some.
And her life was better than most.