Title: Mulligan
Fandom: BSG
Genre/Pairing: Lee/Kara friendship/humor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 400
Summary: For the
Sweet Drabblethon. This is
lotus79 's prompt - Kara/Lee - Can I get a do-over? Probably not what they had in mind and it's late. SORRY!! I totally had it done on time, but there was a family wedding and drama and stuff. I hope you enjoy it anyway :)
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“Mulligan.”
Flat on his back on the floor, Lee thought Kara sounded very far away. “What?” Oh, that was too loud.
“I want,” she grunted, “a mulligan.” A familiar arm flopped over the side of the bunk next to him. Not so far away after all, but she still wasn’t making sense. By the gods, he was going to have to move if he was to have a chance of understanding her. He raised his head just enough to see blonde hair and the tip of her nose. “Kara, you’re not making sense.”
She heaved herself in his direction and peered over the edge of the bunk. For a moment he feared she would throw up on him, but she just raised her eyebrows. “A do-over, moron. I want to rewind and do last night over again.”
“Once wasn’t enough for you?” Even the thought of smelling whiskey again made him want to vomit. Just his luck that he appeared to have spilled half a bottle on his pants. The other half felt like it was still in his bloodstream, slowly pickling his brain. He could see one empty bottle on the table across the room, another was lying on its side under the table and-oh, look, there was one still in his hand. He looked closer at that one. Wrong color for whiskey. He sniffed it and nearly threw across the room. The Chief’s hooch-that explained everything.
“Frak, I’d forgotten how slow you are when you’re hungover.” She reached out and grabbed his ear so he’d look back at her. “This time I’d do it with more grub and better quality booze.”
“Oh,” he said.
She patted his cheek gently. “It’s okay, Lee. It’s not your fault you have the tolerance of 16-year-old girl.” She was looking at him the way she’d look at an exceptionally slow puppy. He should probably be insulted, but she was rubbing her hand through his hair and it felt so nice. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed it. He didn’t even notice when he drifted off to sleep again.
The next thing he felt wasn’t an affection pat to the head, but a boot to his rear. He groaned and cracked open his eyes. Kara was standing over him with two mugs of something that smelled delicious and a bottle of pills. She had actually kicked his ass. She dropped the pills on his stomach-feeling just friendly enough to miss his face, it seemed-and grinned like a feral demon from the Scrolls of Pythia.
“Up and at ‘em, flyboy. We’ve got nuggets to haze.”