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rabid1stICED
By Rabid1st
BSG – K/L
RATING: NC-17, baby, but still…not yet!
BETA BABES: Dualbunny and Winter_Queen82
SPOILERS: I don’t think this fic has spoilers. But there is speculation of the coupling kind based on S2: Flight of the Phoenix.
TECHNICAL RESOURCES: Wikepedia: hypothalamus and Hypothermia.org
SUMMARY:This is a ‘nugget slang’ fic and a sequel to Shoot Your Shade. Which was a sequel to Burn the Pipe. Lee shot his shade (overreacted) last time out when he learned about Anders and dumped Kara cold. Now the path to togetherness is about to be iced.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own these characters. They belong to the SciFi Channel, R&D and Ron Moore…whose e-mail address I don’t know. So, I can’t really ask him for permission or anything. But I’m not making any money or perks off of these characters…so please don’t sue me.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/69278.html#cutid1
PART TWO
*clang*
“frak...”
*clang*
“frak…”
*clang* *Clang* *CLANG*
“FRAK!”
Lee punctuated his shout by hurling his useless wrench across the hold. It whirred through the air, bowling over spare Swan parts until it tolled against the far wall. Kara’s sensitive knee felt the vibration through the floor. She shifted a little but kept her head down, eyes on her own frustrating task, threading a too large tube into a tiny, greased hole in the chassis of a 660.
“Okay,” she remarked, almost to herself, “It’s like that.”
“Don’t start with me, Kara,” Lee warned. “Or I swear I’ll…” Brow stormy, fists clenched at his side, he let the threat trail off into the province of her fertile imagination.
She didn’t look up but the careless lift of one shoulder told him she got the picture and didn’t intend to oblige him by saying something volatile. Lee had been simmering for a fight since they’d come onboard the Medusa. So far Kara hadn’t been pushed hard enough to come out swinging. Still she wasn’t made of iron. As he glared at her, her fingers twitched a little and black oil sprayed from the tube she was holding, coating her already greasy hands in sludge. She lost her grip on the tubing and had to bite down on a string of nasty words.
It took all of her self-control not to kick the damned Swan over. She’d only have to pick it up again. Apparently craving the simplicity of manual labor, Lee had refused every offer of assistance from the Medusa’s captain. So they were working alone, trying to create two Swans out of five. It wasn’t going well.
Instead of kicking out or snapping back, Kara methodically wiped her greasy hands on a filthy rag. The hygiene wouldn’t make her task any easier but focusing on cleaning up her mess focused her mind. She was trying very hard not to start something with Lee. It was a first step, the best she could manage. She wasn’t a soft woman like Dee. She wouldn’t begin to know how to nurture someone. Tenderness felt wrong to her, alien, probably because she’d had no role model. Fight, frak, fly, that was what she knew how to do.
Her friends understood that. They didn’t expect much from her. Helo made a joke out of her social awkwardness but when Lee did the same thing it hurt. Dee was right Lee wasn’t her friend. Maybe they’d never been friends. Kara’s own feelings had flown out beyond friendship into uncharted space. She wanted to be more than just his screw-up pilot or a hand-me-down from Zak. But like nurturing, Kara struggled with articulating her desires. Lee seemed to have the same problem. So, they fought, flew, frakked random people, and stared at each other in tongue-tied confusion.
Craving an end to the standoff, Kara longed to crack him open. Make him tell her what the hell he wanted from her. She knew he needed her ass in the air blasting any cylon raiders that got past him. He needed her on the ground beside him with her weapon drawn. He had to know she’d protect him with her last breath, lay down her life. Why couldn’t he understand that was all she had to give?
Jaw muscles clenching, she continued working on her Swan while Lee paced the perimeter of a tiny rectangle of empty floor space. They had both maintained a stoic peace on their trip over from Galactica. He’d arrived late, stowed his gear and dropped into the Raptor’s pilot position without saying a word beyond those needed to clear the hanger. If the break up with Dee was breaking him up, he’d showed no sign of it. And he'd barely spoken to Kara since they'd come onboard the Medusa. Not that she expected, or even wanted, him to start sharing. But the compressed line of his mouth told her he had something to say.
After a minute or two of enduring Lee's furiously pitched silence, she shot a sideways glance at him and quietly asked, “Mind if I use that wrench?”
He was facing away from her on the outward leg of his route but rotated at the waist to stare at her over his shoulder. Kara could see he was turning her request over in his mind, looking for the insult, trying to make his temper her fault. Finding nothing he could latch onto in her carefully schooled features, he wafted a dramatic hand through the air as he swiveled back to his pacing.
“Be my guest.”
“You know,” she said, wincing slightly as she stood and her knee protested the long period of squatting. “This damned 660 doesn’t even have a cutter wheel. The ice will be old…pitted. Maybe you don’t need …”
“The damned thing won’t fit anyway. So it doesn’t matter if I need it or not, does it?”
“I guess not.”
“You guess not?” he sneered, blue-eyes flashing cruel daggers. “Boy, Helo must have you dommed. Only a matter of time before you’re pushing out little Helos and cooking up casseroles in the officer’s mess.”
Kara stilled, one hand reaching for the wrench. “Helo?” Bent over, she looked back at him, cocking her head as if she doubted her hearing. Surely, he knew her better than that? “This is about Helo?”
“What this is about, Lieutenant, is bikes that are frakking crap and a mission with Colonel Tigh’s Stupid-Assed Plan written all over it,” Lee corrected her angrily, happy at long last to have a target for his ire. “And yeah, maybe this is about your open door policy, too. Having to work in solitude just so you'll keep your mind on the mission and off getting laid by one of these has-been miners.”
The head of the wrench grated across the floor as Kara slowly straightened. “You think that I’d jeopardize this mission?” she gritted out.
“What am I supposed to think, Kara?” Lee said. He pointed a stiff finger toward the nearest starry porthole. “You go back to Caprica to retrieve an arrow that could save us all and end up frakking one of the few people left breathing, right?”
Gods help her; he really couldn’t see her at all. Mortifying hurt and anger stole her breath and her free hand went to her throat. She blinked hard, presenting a buffering shoulder to Lee as she fought back tears. It was a brief, if brutal, fight.
With a mirthless puff of laughter, she let her burning rage surface. To hell with nurturing, she was going to kick his self-righteous ass. How dare he, how dare he suggest she would be the one to frak up the mission? Her red-rimmed eyes narrowed as she slowly turned back to face him again, chin lowered like a bull about to charge. She swung the wrench in a wide arc so the tool’s head slapped against her open palm, signaling her firm intention to start with him. Lee’s pinprick pupils and barely perceptible nod showed he was eager to take whatever she dished out.
“Yeah, you’ve really got me pegged, Lee. I’m doing Helo after morning briefings,” she confessed in a low rumble. “We found this unused closet on c-deck. It’s a tight fit…but he likes it that way.”
“I bet he does.”
“You want to know what I like?” she drawled and saw him flinch. “What Helo does better than any other man? Because I’d be happy to go into detail for you. Take you through every moan, every twitch.”
Lee drew back a little, not sure he was ready for the brawl she was lining up. Kara didn’t care if he was ready. She cared if she hurt him, though. Hurting him was her goal. Placing each foot as methodically as she placed her words, she circled. She knew he didn’t want to hear this, probably couldn’t bear to hear it.
“I could tell you where he puts his hands, his mouth, his sweet,” she drew the adjective out into a breathy exclamation before biting it off, “cock. Yeah, we had some nice times back on Caprica before Anders...with Anders.”
A cold shower of apprehension wilted Lee’s blossoming hostility. Wincing, he turned his profile to her. “Frak you,” he breathed.
“That’s you’re answer to everything isn’t it, Captain?”
“We’re not going to do this,” he decided, breaking from a standstill to stalk toward the hold doors.
As he began walking away, Starbuck darted in to tag him between the shoulder blades with her wrench. It didn’t hurt as much as offend, like a warning shot across his bow. She’d meant to recapture his attention and she did. Lee whipped around, grabbing for the weapon. But she dodged, anticipating his reaction and just a hair quicker.
“You don’t get to decide when this is over,” she said, pivoting out his reach.
Lee thought he did. Rotating his arm to get inside her guard, he turned his fingers up and caught her wrist. Whipping his hand around, he twisted hers out of alignment, practically dislocating her shoulder, as he drew her back to him. He used his weight to advantage, pressing close and staring into her eyes while he ground his thumb into the nerves sustaining her grip on the wrench. He kept applying pressure until the wrench bounced to the floor. Starbuck gritted her teeth against the pain but didn’t make a sound. Until, chin jutting defiantly, she mocked him with a sulky mouth.
“Proud of yourself?”
Ashamed, Lee released her, stepping back.
“Look, I didn’t mean to suggest…”
She closed the slight gap between them as she steamrolled over his half-hearted attempt to apologize. “Yes, you did. You meant to say I wasn’t worth your time. Is that because I’m a whore or because I’m not some doe-eyed ornament?” Kara blurted the question, her rigid resentment making it clearly rhetorical.
Doe-eyed ornament? Lee gaped at her, a curious light in his eyes. Did she mean Dee? If so it was the first time she’d ever shown a trace of jealousy. He started to speak but reconsidered as Kara forged ahead with her rant. She was too furious to notice the change in his demeanor.
“As far as you’re concerned I only have two uses in this man’s service…I fly and I frak. I guess ‘cause I’m really good at both, anything else is beyond me, right? I’m going to screw-up up your mission because I never use my head when I can use my body. And Helo didn’t carry me off to buy me a beer. Why would he? We didn’t just sit around and talk about life back on Caprica or go down to the gym and play one-on-one pyramid, either.”
“He’s your friend, Kara. I get that. I do.”
“No, you don’t, Lee. You don’t get the first thing about me. But why stop at Helo? Aren’t you jealous of Gaeta or Sharon? I paid a visit to Doc Cottle, yesterday. He said he wanted to look at my knee, if you get my drift. And then…then,” she paused slightly to allow the irony to catch up with her, “I went to see your father. You know…it’s too bad you walked in on us when you did because things were just starting to heat up.”
She could see Lee was having trouble holding in some strong emotion as he asked, “Are you finished?”
“Apparently, not,” Kara said, her nose nearly brushing his. “Plenty of strapping young men on this ship with nothing better to do than me.”
They breathed each other’s air, neither of them willing to give ground. Lee held her menacing gaze for a moment longer before allowing his to glide down to her slightly parted lips. Braced for a punch or a spate of angry words, Kara jumped when his hand settled gently on her shoulder. She tried to shrug him off but he tightened his grip. Sliding his palm around to cup the nape of her neck, he pulled her to him.
“I don’t think you’re a whore, Kara,” he said, his forehead brushing hers. “I really don’t.” Though he spoke with quiet sincerity, he couldn’t stop a huge grin from breaking through and stealing a little of the sobriety of the moment as he added, “But next time you and Dad need a few minutes alone just say so.”
It took a second for the audacity of the remark to sink in. When it did Kara’s vivid imagination caused her gorge to rise. Her mouth twisted in disgust but a touch of good humor tempered her indignation.
She shoved him away from her, groaning, “Oh…sweet Aphrodite, you did not just…?”
Lee couldn’t hold it together. Urging her closer with a come-hither bob of his head, he used a low seductive tone as he confided, “I almost suggested you work me in.”
His immediate infectious snicker cut through the conflicting emotions swirling around them. Kara tried regaining her composure, recovering her anger, but the devilish twinkle in Lee's eyes, coupled with the recent release of so much tension soon sent her into giggles. It was funny. Grinning like a mad man, Lee swooped in again to capture her waist between his hands, spanning it to keep her close.
“No father-son, three-way action, huh?” he asked facetiously. Accepting her giddy head shake as a no, he made every attempt to look grave, as he added, “I’m seriously disappointed.”
Having nearly laughed herself into hiccups, Kara gave up the fight and relaxed against him, leaning on his shoulder while she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are one sick son of a bitch,” she said, her breath steamy in the hollow near his throat.
Lee rubbed his cheek along hers. “Hey, I didn’t put the elephant in the room,” he said. “You think I’m going to be able to get those images out of my head without professional help?” He pulled back a little so he could look at her as he scolded, “Really Kara…Doc Cottle?”
She tried to tame her wide grin, shaking her head ruefully and he hugged her close again. Her silken hair tickled Lee’s nose. He gulped down Kara-scented air as their belt buckles grated together. The harsh sound brought Lee’s attention to the tightness in his groin. His hands found an iced path up under her shirt, one climbing her spine, the other brushing the lowest curve of her ribcage.
Kara made an odd little mewing noise in the back of her throat.
Her skin tingled with cold fire everywhere his fingers touched her. She leaned back to see him clearly and let her caressing gaze trail from his temple, along his jawline, to his mouth. Lee shuddered slightly; as if the ship were breaking atmosphere and Kara self-consciously moistened her lips, knowing he would kiss her.
The tip of his tongue touched her mouth, feather light, and then withdrew. Eyes closing, Kara murmured something encouraging. She felt him shift closer and then started painfully as the hold doors opened with an unholy clatter. Lee’s kiss swerved into a fly-by as Kara broke away from him.
“Everything alright in here?” The Medusa’s Captain called. He and a few of his men stood peering into the hold.
“Fine,” Lee chirped. He hastily cleared his throat and repeated in a less strained tone. “We’re fine, Captain.”
“One of my crew heard some strange…noises. Cursing…yelling?” The Captain appraised them suspiciously. Lee couldn't help noticing several of the men facing him were armed. “You two having some kind of problem?" the Captain asked. "I know the clock is ticking on this thing…”
“Right,” Lee breathed. The clock was ticking. Shooting Kara a quick apologetic dart of the eyes he turned away from her and strode toward the Medusa’s Captain. They shook hands. “Turns out I’m a jackass," Lee admitted, pouring on the charm. "We could use some help. If your offer is still open. The repairs are more extensive than I thought.”
“The offer is open, Captain. I’ll send someone along.” He motioned to one of the crewmen standing in the doorway. “Meanwhile, Reece here is a whiz with hydraulics. We don’t service these things, just haul them back to the scrap yard, but I’m starting to believe my mechanics can fix anything.”
“I hear that,” Lee said, smiling.
“Right, then,” the Captain said, with an officious nod. “We’ll leave you to your work.”
As the Captain departed, Reece smiled radiantly at Kara. “Hey, I know you,” he announced. “You’re that hot pilot from the centerfold. Our XO has you up on his rack.” Starting towards her with a huge grin on his face, he was thrown off stride when Lee stepped into his path. “Excuse me,” the boy said, scowling down at Lee even as he belatedly added, “sir.” His tone made it clear he was only impressed by curvaceous, or possibly published, hot pilots.
Biting down on his lip, Lee exhaled in audible martyrdom. Then, he raked the boy over with unmistakable distain, taking in everything from the straw-colored hair to the oversized work boots.
“Now, you’re what I’d call strapping,” he said, when he’d finished the appraisal.
Reece’s ear tips turned crimson as Kara choked on a laugh. Without looking back at her Lee searched the floor for her dropped wrench. Spotting it easily, he pointed. “See that wrench, mister?” The puzzled Reece nodded. And then gulped when Lee fixed him with a piercing stare. “It’s yours. Find me a cutter wheel for the 410 and clang it into place.”
Recognizing the voice of authority when he heard it, Reece saluted sharply and “Sir, yes, sir!”
*****************************************************************
A static-filled com-version of Kara’s voice buzzed in Lee’s ear. “There’s zero frakking visibility and it’s colder than my mother’s love out here,” she said.
Lee’s jaw muscles knotted with frustration.
“Damn it all, Starbuck, maintain radio silence. And just stay in my track.”
“I can’t see your track, Captain. And the toasters are just going to wait for us to die of hypothermia, probably laughing their metal asses off and roasting marshmallows, as we speak.”
Lee squinted through the frozen scum on his helmet at the mission clock. Crosswind and forward motion created a maelstrom of ice-melt around his bike. She wasn’t wrong. Pressing on when they had a huge window of time to fill was insane. Impacting crystals blurred what little scenery was visible through his compromised visor. Beyond the sweep of the Swan’s single headlight, the darkness of the frozen ocean stretched to the far horizons. Even under three layers of protective gear he could feel the knife-edge of the cold trying to skin him alive.
“We are going to have to tank soon if we don’t find shelter,” Kara prodded. She really hated the drugs.
“Fine. The sun will be up any minute now. We’ll take shelter for a few hours. Ahead, to the right? There’s a shoreline.”
“Got it.”
“Maybe we can use your pilot hotness to warm up some soup.”
She laughed and, as they neared the indicated island, drew her Swan even with his. Lee had to slow the 410 to match the sluggish response of her 660. Between them they'd tricked her bike out well, souped it up as much as humanly possible. But it was still a 600 series Swan and there was nothing they could do about the basic design flaws.
A pale sunrise crested the horizon, reworking the hostile world into a fairytale landscape of silvery sparkles. The sunlight warmed their backs as it illuminated the dark, craggy shore to their right. Lee relaxed a little, starting to enjoy the ride. They coasted into a broad bay dotted with blue icebergs sticking out of the sea at crazy angles.
To Lee's surprise, the ice turned abruptly mushy in the sheltered areas between these icy towers. His cutter blade whizzed into action, catching in the soft surface to stabilize his bike. His Swan bucked and his sled load shifted dangerously, careening into and then bouncing off of one of the icebergs. Lee grabbed at the neck of his bike and concentrated on keeping his balance as his rear blade slithered around.
Kara lost ground, her cutter-free Swan unable to find traction in the crazy quilt surface of slippery and slushy ice. Putting the bulk of the island between them and the near constant wind had made a huge difference in visibility and chill factor. But, it had also left them vulnerable to this unique hazard. As the wind died down, Lee heard something even more chilling than its howl, an ominous cracking.
“Thin ice! Kara get clear of it.”
He didn’t have time to check on her. His sled was dragging him sideways. He did a lightning fast calculation and decided the shore was his safest refuge. Pressing his pedal down, he raced for the closest spit of land, steering between the towering, ominously swaying icebergs.
Fissures opened in the ice as he tore over it. Tiny cracks spread quickly, merging and revealing strips and then swaths of black water. Lee kicked the 410’s throttle to the limit and steered along the ragged edge of a huge floe. His cutter and runner blades spun icy shrapnel into the air as he sailed up and over a new gap. He stayed low, pressed along the sweeping downward curve that gave the Swan its name, hoping the sled he was hauling didn’t catch on anything and rip him in half.
Solid ground loomed up and he cut the engine to avoid plowing into it. As soon as he hit dirt, Lee arched the slowing bike around to face the sea. Kara was a good half-mile behind him, skirting the ice mesas. She needed to turn back, head for deeper water where the warming sun would have less affect on the ice.
Lee removed his harness, fingers jerking straps and buckles free. Slipping from the saddle, he dragged his sled to safety, pulling the rope hand-over-hand until his explosive cargo crested the shore’s slight slope. His eyes never left Starbuck. She was navigating the jigsaw pattern of the ice as only she could, staying one second ahead of disaster. Lee held his breath, hoping for a heartbeat that somehow she would reach him. But her sled was dragging her back, hobbling her already sluggish Swan. Lee saw immediately that they needed to lose the sled.
“Let it go,” he said, under his breath before remembering they were com-linked. He gave the transmit command and said, “Don’t be a hero, Starbuck. Lose the sled. Head out to sea.”
“I can make it.”
As she spoke, Lee knew in his gut they were going to lose her, too. An iceberg toppled in front of her, tearing a huge hole in the ice. Black water loomed stark against the snow. Kara banked just in time to avoid plunging into the ocean. A rooster tail of ice blocked his view of her for a second as the laws of force and motion carried her sled wide. It started to capsize. Lee bellowed over the grating noise as another huge block of ice crashed down. More cracks spider-webbed toward Kara’s precarious position on an ever diminishing floe.
“Cut the line,” he yelled and then, soft as a prayer, he repeated, “Cut the line, Kara.”
Finally, hearing him or, at least, deciding he was right, she braked sharply, sitting up in the saddle. Her gloved fingers fumbled with the straps tying her to the dead weight behind her. Through the com-link he heard her curses become a strangled yelp as the sled rocked on the very edge of her ice island and then disappeared. Starbuck’s Swan shimmied, skipping backward toward the chasm. She grabbed the steering column and gunned the engine to fight the slide.
“Anchor it,” Lee ordered, kicking his own bike’s pinions into the frozen ground and dismounting
This time, miraculously, he saw her obey. As soon as her bike stopped skidding, she ripped the helmet from her head so she could use her teeth to remove her gloves. Fingers free she worked on her harness buckles. From the corner of his eye, Lee watched the drama unfolding.
Feeling trapped and needing to be free of constriction, he cast off his helmet, thankful that the atmosphere was breathable. Without consciously thinking it through, he’d started to unbutton his coat. Once it had been converted to an open duster, he went to the sled, cracking its hard shell cover. A rope, lighted float ring and ice anchors came easily to hand. He rummaged for the med kit. Finding it at last, he shoved it into an inside coat pocket. He didn’t feel the cold bite of the wind as it whipped his coat into cape-like wings. Kara’s peril had already chilled him to numbness.
But he knew better than to risk hypothermia. The frigid air was already burning his lungs. Slipping a syringe from one of the tubular pockets on his pants front, he checked the label for the T.N.K. logo. Affirming it, he pried the cap from the needle, pushed his coat aside and jabbed himself through his sweater sleeve. He injected the full dose of the drug, a biochemical cocktail known as ‘tank’ because of the acronym, and the berserker advantage it gave, into his upper arm. Then, armed with a good thirty minutes of guaranteed core temperature and his few meager supplies, he started out onto the shattering ice.
Amazingly, Kara managed to free herself of her sled. The Swan’s ice anchors bent and groaned but held. Within seconds she’d clawed her way out of her harness. She lost her helmet but retrieved her gloves, stumbling away from the dangerous situation. By the time Lee reached the gapping hole that had cut off her ride she was on foot and moving fast. With a series of running leaps, she skirted the worst of the gaps between them, heading for shore. Lee plotted an intercept course. The tank kicked in, stabilizing his thermal core and making him feel invincible.
Duster flapping in the breeze, Lee skipped easily from one shifting patch of treacherous ice to another. Head down, eyes on her nerve-wracking task, Kara didn’t notice him as she picked her way through the slippery, tipping mosaic. When they were within a few yards of one another, she finally glanced up and saw Lee very close. She stopped in her tracks. Fury and fear warred for a place on her stunned face.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” she yelled, voice carrying easily in the thin cold air.
“Rescuing your sorry ass.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“Are you tanked?”
“Am I…? No,” she snapped, “Are you?” Reading the answer in his face even as she asked the question, Kara pinched her eyes closed. “Good Gods, Lee, out here?” She stabbed a finger towards land. “Get back to shore before you get us both killed.”
“Tank, now!” he ordered, leaping to within one jigsaw piece of her.
“Like hell. I don’t shoot up in this kind of situation, Lee. It’s against every regulation. People that do that sort of thing end up dead.”
“If you fall in the water…”
“I’ll need the tank. Meanwhile, I won’t be able to pull you out of the water if you misjudge your footing or…”
“Kara,” Lee interrupted savagely, “we are in the middle of the frakking ocean on fracturing ice. This is not up for discussion. Just do what I tell you.”
Her belligerent expression denied him and he was sure she would disobey. But she was conditioned to his command and after a pitched inner struggle she gave in grudgingly. He saw her open her coat a little and shove her hand under it to find the imbedded syringe. She yanked the tank dose free even as she grumbled, “You’d better be right about this.”
Lee nodded tersely, eyes on the needle as she bit off and spat away its protective orange cap. He couldn’t explain how he knew she would need it. He just felt the certainty in his blood. She opened the collar of her coat, positioning the shot over a muscle. But before she could deliver the dose the 660 broke anchor. Metal squealed and ice popped like snapping bones as the bike plunged into the ocean. The cacophony of noise and huge splash caused Kara to glance over her shoulder. When she turned back to meet Lee’s eye, she smirked.
“Lousy 660,” she called, saluting him with the full syringe.
Lee’s heart lifted slightly and then seemed to leave his body as a vaporous puff when the lost Swan’s swell caught Kara’s slab of ice, throwing it and her into the air. She landed on one hip and then spilled to her stomach. The life-saving syringe spun away from her. Lee’s eyes followed its long arc into oblivion. His augmented muscles helped him surf the surge but Kara was hobbled by her coat and scrambling for purchase, her gloved fingers finding none.
As Lee looked on in horror she slipped over the ice edge and was gone, swallowed alive by the black water.
END THIS PART
Also...if you'd like to start at the start...
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/65528.html#cutid1
and then you can go on to...
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/66968.html#cutid1
By Rabid1st
BSG – K/L
RATING: NC-17, baby, but still…not yet!
BETA BABES: Dualbunny and Winter_Queen82
SPOILERS: I don’t think this fic has spoilers. But there is speculation of the coupling kind based on S2: Flight of the Phoenix.
TECHNICAL RESOURCES: Wikepedia: hypothalamus and Hypothermia.org
SUMMARY:This is a ‘nugget slang’ fic and a sequel to Shoot Your Shade. Which was a sequel to Burn the Pipe. Lee shot his shade (overreacted) last time out when he learned about Anders and dumped Kara cold. Now the path to togetherness is about to be iced.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own these characters. They belong to the SciFi Channel, R&D and Ron Moore…whose e-mail address I don’t know. So, I can’t really ask him for permission or anything. But I’m not making any money or perks off of these characters…so please don’t sue me.
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/69278.html#cutid1
PART TWO
*clang*
“frak...”
*clang*
“frak…”
*clang* *Clang* *CLANG*
“FRAK!”
Lee punctuated his shout by hurling his useless wrench across the hold. It whirred through the air, bowling over spare Swan parts until it tolled against the far wall. Kara’s sensitive knee felt the vibration through the floor. She shifted a little but kept her head down, eyes on her own frustrating task, threading a too large tube into a tiny, greased hole in the chassis of a 660.
“Okay,” she remarked, almost to herself, “It’s like that.”
“Don’t start with me, Kara,” Lee warned. “Or I swear I’ll…” Brow stormy, fists clenched at his side, he let the threat trail off into the province of her fertile imagination.
She didn’t look up but the careless lift of one shoulder told him she got the picture and didn’t intend to oblige him by saying something volatile. Lee had been simmering for a fight since they’d come onboard the Medusa. So far Kara hadn’t been pushed hard enough to come out swinging. Still she wasn’t made of iron. As he glared at her, her fingers twitched a little and black oil sprayed from the tube she was holding, coating her already greasy hands in sludge. She lost her grip on the tubing and had to bite down on a string of nasty words.
It took all of her self-control not to kick the damned Swan over. She’d only have to pick it up again. Apparently craving the simplicity of manual labor, Lee had refused every offer of assistance from the Medusa’s captain. So they were working alone, trying to create two Swans out of five. It wasn’t going well.
Instead of kicking out or snapping back, Kara methodically wiped her greasy hands on a filthy rag. The hygiene wouldn’t make her task any easier but focusing on cleaning up her mess focused her mind. She was trying very hard not to start something with Lee. It was a first step, the best she could manage. She wasn’t a soft woman like Dee. She wouldn’t begin to know how to nurture someone. Tenderness felt wrong to her, alien, probably because she’d had no role model. Fight, frak, fly, that was what she knew how to do.
Her friends understood that. They didn’t expect much from her. Helo made a joke out of her social awkwardness but when Lee did the same thing it hurt. Dee was right Lee wasn’t her friend. Maybe they’d never been friends. Kara’s own feelings had flown out beyond friendship into uncharted space. She wanted to be more than just his screw-up pilot or a hand-me-down from Zak. But like nurturing, Kara struggled with articulating her desires. Lee seemed to have the same problem. So, they fought, flew, frakked random people, and stared at each other in tongue-tied confusion.
Craving an end to the standoff, Kara longed to crack him open. Make him tell her what the hell he wanted from her. She knew he needed her ass in the air blasting any cylon raiders that got past him. He needed her on the ground beside him with her weapon drawn. He had to know she’d protect him with her last breath, lay down her life. Why couldn’t he understand that was all she had to give?
Jaw muscles clenching, she continued working on her Swan while Lee paced the perimeter of a tiny rectangle of empty floor space. They had both maintained a stoic peace on their trip over from Galactica. He’d arrived late, stowed his gear and dropped into the Raptor’s pilot position without saying a word beyond those needed to clear the hanger. If the break up with Dee was breaking him up, he’d showed no sign of it. And he'd barely spoken to Kara since they'd come onboard the Medusa. Not that she expected, or even wanted, him to start sharing. But the compressed line of his mouth told her he had something to say.
After a minute or two of enduring Lee's furiously pitched silence, she shot a sideways glance at him and quietly asked, “Mind if I use that wrench?”
He was facing away from her on the outward leg of his route but rotated at the waist to stare at her over his shoulder. Kara could see he was turning her request over in his mind, looking for the insult, trying to make his temper her fault. Finding nothing he could latch onto in her carefully schooled features, he wafted a dramatic hand through the air as he swiveled back to his pacing.
“Be my guest.”
“You know,” she said, wincing slightly as she stood and her knee protested the long period of squatting. “This damned 660 doesn’t even have a cutter wheel. The ice will be old…pitted. Maybe you don’t need …”
“The damned thing won’t fit anyway. So it doesn’t matter if I need it or not, does it?”
“I guess not.”
“You guess not?” he sneered, blue-eyes flashing cruel daggers. “Boy, Helo must have you dommed. Only a matter of time before you’re pushing out little Helos and cooking up casseroles in the officer’s mess.”
Kara stilled, one hand reaching for the wrench. “Helo?” Bent over, she looked back at him, cocking her head as if she doubted her hearing. Surely, he knew her better than that? “This is about Helo?”
“What this is about, Lieutenant, is bikes that are frakking crap and a mission with Colonel Tigh’s Stupid-Assed Plan written all over it,” Lee corrected her angrily, happy at long last to have a target for his ire. “And yeah, maybe this is about your open door policy, too. Having to work in solitude just so you'll keep your mind on the mission and off getting laid by one of these has-been miners.”
The head of the wrench grated across the floor as Kara slowly straightened. “You think that I’d jeopardize this mission?” she gritted out.
“What am I supposed to think, Kara?” Lee said. He pointed a stiff finger toward the nearest starry porthole. “You go back to Caprica to retrieve an arrow that could save us all and end up frakking one of the few people left breathing, right?”
Gods help her; he really couldn’t see her at all. Mortifying hurt and anger stole her breath and her free hand went to her throat. She blinked hard, presenting a buffering shoulder to Lee as she fought back tears. It was a brief, if brutal, fight.
With a mirthless puff of laughter, she let her burning rage surface. To hell with nurturing, she was going to kick his self-righteous ass. How dare he, how dare he suggest she would be the one to frak up the mission? Her red-rimmed eyes narrowed as she slowly turned back to face him again, chin lowered like a bull about to charge. She swung the wrench in a wide arc so the tool’s head slapped against her open palm, signaling her firm intention to start with him. Lee’s pinprick pupils and barely perceptible nod showed he was eager to take whatever she dished out.
“Yeah, you’ve really got me pegged, Lee. I’m doing Helo after morning briefings,” she confessed in a low rumble. “We found this unused closet on c-deck. It’s a tight fit…but he likes it that way.”
“I bet he does.”
“You want to know what I like?” she drawled and saw him flinch. “What Helo does better than any other man? Because I’d be happy to go into detail for you. Take you through every moan, every twitch.”
Lee drew back a little, not sure he was ready for the brawl she was lining up. Kara didn’t care if he was ready. She cared if she hurt him, though. Hurting him was her goal. Placing each foot as methodically as she placed her words, she circled. She knew he didn’t want to hear this, probably couldn’t bear to hear it.
“I could tell you where he puts his hands, his mouth, his sweet,” she drew the adjective out into a breathy exclamation before biting it off, “cock. Yeah, we had some nice times back on Caprica before Anders...with Anders.”
A cold shower of apprehension wilted Lee’s blossoming hostility. Wincing, he turned his profile to her. “Frak you,” he breathed.
“That’s you’re answer to everything isn’t it, Captain?”
“We’re not going to do this,” he decided, breaking from a standstill to stalk toward the hold doors.
As he began walking away, Starbuck darted in to tag him between the shoulder blades with her wrench. It didn’t hurt as much as offend, like a warning shot across his bow. She’d meant to recapture his attention and she did. Lee whipped around, grabbing for the weapon. But she dodged, anticipating his reaction and just a hair quicker.
“You don’t get to decide when this is over,” she said, pivoting out his reach.
Lee thought he did. Rotating his arm to get inside her guard, he turned his fingers up and caught her wrist. Whipping his hand around, he twisted hers out of alignment, practically dislocating her shoulder, as he drew her back to him. He used his weight to advantage, pressing close and staring into her eyes while he ground his thumb into the nerves sustaining her grip on the wrench. He kept applying pressure until the wrench bounced to the floor. Starbuck gritted her teeth against the pain but didn’t make a sound. Until, chin jutting defiantly, she mocked him with a sulky mouth.
“Proud of yourself?”
Ashamed, Lee released her, stepping back.
“Look, I didn’t mean to suggest…”
She closed the slight gap between them as she steamrolled over his half-hearted attempt to apologize. “Yes, you did. You meant to say I wasn’t worth your time. Is that because I’m a whore or because I’m not some doe-eyed ornament?” Kara blurted the question, her rigid resentment making it clearly rhetorical.
Doe-eyed ornament? Lee gaped at her, a curious light in his eyes. Did she mean Dee? If so it was the first time she’d ever shown a trace of jealousy. He started to speak but reconsidered as Kara forged ahead with her rant. She was too furious to notice the change in his demeanor.
“As far as you’re concerned I only have two uses in this man’s service…I fly and I frak. I guess ‘cause I’m really good at both, anything else is beyond me, right? I’m going to screw-up up your mission because I never use my head when I can use my body. And Helo didn’t carry me off to buy me a beer. Why would he? We didn’t just sit around and talk about life back on Caprica or go down to the gym and play one-on-one pyramid, either.”
“He’s your friend, Kara. I get that. I do.”
“No, you don’t, Lee. You don’t get the first thing about me. But why stop at Helo? Aren’t you jealous of Gaeta or Sharon? I paid a visit to Doc Cottle, yesterday. He said he wanted to look at my knee, if you get my drift. And then…then,” she paused slightly to allow the irony to catch up with her, “I went to see your father. You know…it’s too bad you walked in on us when you did because things were just starting to heat up.”
She could see Lee was having trouble holding in some strong emotion as he asked, “Are you finished?”
“Apparently, not,” Kara said, her nose nearly brushing his. “Plenty of strapping young men on this ship with nothing better to do than me.”
They breathed each other’s air, neither of them willing to give ground. Lee held her menacing gaze for a moment longer before allowing his to glide down to her slightly parted lips. Braced for a punch or a spate of angry words, Kara jumped when his hand settled gently on her shoulder. She tried to shrug him off but he tightened his grip. Sliding his palm around to cup the nape of her neck, he pulled her to him.
“I don’t think you’re a whore, Kara,” he said, his forehead brushing hers. “I really don’t.” Though he spoke with quiet sincerity, he couldn’t stop a huge grin from breaking through and stealing a little of the sobriety of the moment as he added, “But next time you and Dad need a few minutes alone just say so.”
It took a second for the audacity of the remark to sink in. When it did Kara’s vivid imagination caused her gorge to rise. Her mouth twisted in disgust but a touch of good humor tempered her indignation.
She shoved him away from her, groaning, “Oh…sweet Aphrodite, you did not just…?”
Lee couldn’t hold it together. Urging her closer with a come-hither bob of his head, he used a low seductive tone as he confided, “I almost suggested you work me in.”
His immediate infectious snicker cut through the conflicting emotions swirling around them. Kara tried regaining her composure, recovering her anger, but the devilish twinkle in Lee's eyes, coupled with the recent release of so much tension soon sent her into giggles. It was funny. Grinning like a mad man, Lee swooped in again to capture her waist between his hands, spanning it to keep her close.
“No father-son, three-way action, huh?” he asked facetiously. Accepting her giddy head shake as a no, he made every attempt to look grave, as he added, “I’m seriously disappointed.”
Having nearly laughed herself into hiccups, Kara gave up the fight and relaxed against him, leaning on his shoulder while she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are one sick son of a bitch,” she said, her breath steamy in the hollow near his throat.
Lee rubbed his cheek along hers. “Hey, I didn’t put the elephant in the room,” he said. “You think I’m going to be able to get those images out of my head without professional help?” He pulled back a little so he could look at her as he scolded, “Really Kara…Doc Cottle?”
She tried to tame her wide grin, shaking her head ruefully and he hugged her close again. Her silken hair tickled Lee’s nose. He gulped down Kara-scented air as their belt buckles grated together. The harsh sound brought Lee’s attention to the tightness in his groin. His hands found an iced path up under her shirt, one climbing her spine, the other brushing the lowest curve of her ribcage.
Kara made an odd little mewing noise in the back of her throat.
Her skin tingled with cold fire everywhere his fingers touched her. She leaned back to see him clearly and let her caressing gaze trail from his temple, along his jawline, to his mouth. Lee shuddered slightly; as if the ship were breaking atmosphere and Kara self-consciously moistened her lips, knowing he would kiss her.
The tip of his tongue touched her mouth, feather light, and then withdrew. Eyes closing, Kara murmured something encouraging. She felt him shift closer and then started painfully as the hold doors opened with an unholy clatter. Lee’s kiss swerved into a fly-by as Kara broke away from him.
“Everything alright in here?” The Medusa’s Captain called. He and a few of his men stood peering into the hold.
“Fine,” Lee chirped. He hastily cleared his throat and repeated in a less strained tone. “We’re fine, Captain.”
“One of my crew heard some strange…noises. Cursing…yelling?” The Captain appraised them suspiciously. Lee couldn't help noticing several of the men facing him were armed. “You two having some kind of problem?" the Captain asked. "I know the clock is ticking on this thing…”
“Right,” Lee breathed. The clock was ticking. Shooting Kara a quick apologetic dart of the eyes he turned away from her and strode toward the Medusa’s Captain. They shook hands. “Turns out I’m a jackass," Lee admitted, pouring on the charm. "We could use some help. If your offer is still open. The repairs are more extensive than I thought.”
“The offer is open, Captain. I’ll send someone along.” He motioned to one of the crewmen standing in the doorway. “Meanwhile, Reece here is a whiz with hydraulics. We don’t service these things, just haul them back to the scrap yard, but I’m starting to believe my mechanics can fix anything.”
“I hear that,” Lee said, smiling.
“Right, then,” the Captain said, with an officious nod. “We’ll leave you to your work.”
As the Captain departed, Reece smiled radiantly at Kara. “Hey, I know you,” he announced. “You’re that hot pilot from the centerfold. Our XO has you up on his rack.” Starting towards her with a huge grin on his face, he was thrown off stride when Lee stepped into his path. “Excuse me,” the boy said, scowling down at Lee even as he belatedly added, “sir.” His tone made it clear he was only impressed by curvaceous, or possibly published, hot pilots.
Biting down on his lip, Lee exhaled in audible martyrdom. Then, he raked the boy over with unmistakable distain, taking in everything from the straw-colored hair to the oversized work boots.
“Now, you’re what I’d call strapping,” he said, when he’d finished the appraisal.
Reece’s ear tips turned crimson as Kara choked on a laugh. Without looking back at her Lee searched the floor for her dropped wrench. Spotting it easily, he pointed. “See that wrench, mister?” The puzzled Reece nodded. And then gulped when Lee fixed him with a piercing stare. “It’s yours. Find me a cutter wheel for the 410 and clang it into place.”
Recognizing the voice of authority when he heard it, Reece saluted sharply and “Sir, yes, sir!”
*****************************************************************
A static-filled com-version of Kara’s voice buzzed in Lee’s ear. “There’s zero frakking visibility and it’s colder than my mother’s love out here,” she said.
Lee’s jaw muscles knotted with frustration.
“Damn it all, Starbuck, maintain radio silence. And just stay in my track.”
“I can’t see your track, Captain. And the toasters are just going to wait for us to die of hypothermia, probably laughing their metal asses off and roasting marshmallows, as we speak.”
Lee squinted through the frozen scum on his helmet at the mission clock. Crosswind and forward motion created a maelstrom of ice-melt around his bike. She wasn’t wrong. Pressing on when they had a huge window of time to fill was insane. Impacting crystals blurred what little scenery was visible through his compromised visor. Beyond the sweep of the Swan’s single headlight, the darkness of the frozen ocean stretched to the far horizons. Even under three layers of protective gear he could feel the knife-edge of the cold trying to skin him alive.
“We are going to have to tank soon if we don’t find shelter,” Kara prodded. She really hated the drugs.
“Fine. The sun will be up any minute now. We’ll take shelter for a few hours. Ahead, to the right? There’s a shoreline.”
“Got it.”
“Maybe we can use your pilot hotness to warm up some soup.”
She laughed and, as they neared the indicated island, drew her Swan even with his. Lee had to slow the 410 to match the sluggish response of her 660. Between them they'd tricked her bike out well, souped it up as much as humanly possible. But it was still a 600 series Swan and there was nothing they could do about the basic design flaws.
A pale sunrise crested the horizon, reworking the hostile world into a fairytale landscape of silvery sparkles. The sunlight warmed their backs as it illuminated the dark, craggy shore to their right. Lee relaxed a little, starting to enjoy the ride. They coasted into a broad bay dotted with blue icebergs sticking out of the sea at crazy angles.
To Lee's surprise, the ice turned abruptly mushy in the sheltered areas between these icy towers. His cutter blade whizzed into action, catching in the soft surface to stabilize his bike. His Swan bucked and his sled load shifted dangerously, careening into and then bouncing off of one of the icebergs. Lee grabbed at the neck of his bike and concentrated on keeping his balance as his rear blade slithered around.
Kara lost ground, her cutter-free Swan unable to find traction in the crazy quilt surface of slippery and slushy ice. Putting the bulk of the island between them and the near constant wind had made a huge difference in visibility and chill factor. But, it had also left them vulnerable to this unique hazard. As the wind died down, Lee heard something even more chilling than its howl, an ominous cracking.
“Thin ice! Kara get clear of it.”
He didn’t have time to check on her. His sled was dragging him sideways. He did a lightning fast calculation and decided the shore was his safest refuge. Pressing his pedal down, he raced for the closest spit of land, steering between the towering, ominously swaying icebergs.
Fissures opened in the ice as he tore over it. Tiny cracks spread quickly, merging and revealing strips and then swaths of black water. Lee kicked the 410’s throttle to the limit and steered along the ragged edge of a huge floe. His cutter and runner blades spun icy shrapnel into the air as he sailed up and over a new gap. He stayed low, pressed along the sweeping downward curve that gave the Swan its name, hoping the sled he was hauling didn’t catch on anything and rip him in half.
Solid ground loomed up and he cut the engine to avoid plowing into it. As soon as he hit dirt, Lee arched the slowing bike around to face the sea. Kara was a good half-mile behind him, skirting the ice mesas. She needed to turn back, head for deeper water where the warming sun would have less affect on the ice.
Lee removed his harness, fingers jerking straps and buckles free. Slipping from the saddle, he dragged his sled to safety, pulling the rope hand-over-hand until his explosive cargo crested the shore’s slight slope. His eyes never left Starbuck. She was navigating the jigsaw pattern of the ice as only she could, staying one second ahead of disaster. Lee held his breath, hoping for a heartbeat that somehow she would reach him. But her sled was dragging her back, hobbling her already sluggish Swan. Lee saw immediately that they needed to lose the sled.
“Let it go,” he said, under his breath before remembering they were com-linked. He gave the transmit command and said, “Don’t be a hero, Starbuck. Lose the sled. Head out to sea.”
“I can make it.”
As she spoke, Lee knew in his gut they were going to lose her, too. An iceberg toppled in front of her, tearing a huge hole in the ice. Black water loomed stark against the snow. Kara banked just in time to avoid plunging into the ocean. A rooster tail of ice blocked his view of her for a second as the laws of force and motion carried her sled wide. It started to capsize. Lee bellowed over the grating noise as another huge block of ice crashed down. More cracks spider-webbed toward Kara’s precarious position on an ever diminishing floe.
“Cut the line,” he yelled and then, soft as a prayer, he repeated, “Cut the line, Kara.”
Finally, hearing him or, at least, deciding he was right, she braked sharply, sitting up in the saddle. Her gloved fingers fumbled with the straps tying her to the dead weight behind her. Through the com-link he heard her curses become a strangled yelp as the sled rocked on the very edge of her ice island and then disappeared. Starbuck’s Swan shimmied, skipping backward toward the chasm. She grabbed the steering column and gunned the engine to fight the slide.
“Anchor it,” Lee ordered, kicking his own bike’s pinions into the frozen ground and dismounting
This time, miraculously, he saw her obey. As soon as her bike stopped skidding, she ripped the helmet from her head so she could use her teeth to remove her gloves. Fingers free she worked on her harness buckles. From the corner of his eye, Lee watched the drama unfolding.
Feeling trapped and needing to be free of constriction, he cast off his helmet, thankful that the atmosphere was breathable. Without consciously thinking it through, he’d started to unbutton his coat. Once it had been converted to an open duster, he went to the sled, cracking its hard shell cover. A rope, lighted float ring and ice anchors came easily to hand. He rummaged for the med kit. Finding it at last, he shoved it into an inside coat pocket. He didn’t feel the cold bite of the wind as it whipped his coat into cape-like wings. Kara’s peril had already chilled him to numbness.
But he knew better than to risk hypothermia. The frigid air was already burning his lungs. Slipping a syringe from one of the tubular pockets on his pants front, he checked the label for the T.N.K. logo. Affirming it, he pried the cap from the needle, pushed his coat aside and jabbed himself through his sweater sleeve. He injected the full dose of the drug, a biochemical cocktail known as ‘tank’ because of the acronym, and the berserker advantage it gave, into his upper arm. Then, armed with a good thirty minutes of guaranteed core temperature and his few meager supplies, he started out onto the shattering ice.
Amazingly, Kara managed to free herself of her sled. The Swan’s ice anchors bent and groaned but held. Within seconds she’d clawed her way out of her harness. She lost her helmet but retrieved her gloves, stumbling away from the dangerous situation. By the time Lee reached the gapping hole that had cut off her ride she was on foot and moving fast. With a series of running leaps, she skirted the worst of the gaps between them, heading for shore. Lee plotted an intercept course. The tank kicked in, stabilizing his thermal core and making him feel invincible.
Duster flapping in the breeze, Lee skipped easily from one shifting patch of treacherous ice to another. Head down, eyes on her nerve-wracking task, Kara didn’t notice him as she picked her way through the slippery, tipping mosaic. When they were within a few yards of one another, she finally glanced up and saw Lee very close. She stopped in her tracks. Fury and fear warred for a place on her stunned face.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” she yelled, voice carrying easily in the thin cold air.
“Rescuing your sorry ass.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“Are you tanked?”
“Am I…? No,” she snapped, “Are you?” Reading the answer in his face even as she asked the question, Kara pinched her eyes closed. “Good Gods, Lee, out here?” She stabbed a finger towards land. “Get back to shore before you get us both killed.”
“Tank, now!” he ordered, leaping to within one jigsaw piece of her.
“Like hell. I don’t shoot up in this kind of situation, Lee. It’s against every regulation. People that do that sort of thing end up dead.”
“If you fall in the water…”
“I’ll need the tank. Meanwhile, I won’t be able to pull you out of the water if you misjudge your footing or…”
“Kara,” Lee interrupted savagely, “we are in the middle of the frakking ocean on fracturing ice. This is not up for discussion. Just do what I tell you.”
Her belligerent expression denied him and he was sure she would disobey. But she was conditioned to his command and after a pitched inner struggle she gave in grudgingly. He saw her open her coat a little and shove her hand under it to find the imbedded syringe. She yanked the tank dose free even as she grumbled, “You’d better be right about this.”
Lee nodded tersely, eyes on the needle as she bit off and spat away its protective orange cap. He couldn’t explain how he knew she would need it. He just felt the certainty in his blood. She opened the collar of her coat, positioning the shot over a muscle. But before she could deliver the dose the 660 broke anchor. Metal squealed and ice popped like snapping bones as the bike plunged into the ocean. The cacophony of noise and huge splash caused Kara to glance over her shoulder. When she turned back to meet Lee’s eye, she smirked.
“Lousy 660,” she called, saluting him with the full syringe.
Lee’s heart lifted slightly and then seemed to leave his body as a vaporous puff when the lost Swan’s swell caught Kara’s slab of ice, throwing it and her into the air. She landed on one hip and then spilled to her stomach. The life-saving syringe spun away from her. Lee’s eyes followed its long arc into oblivion. His augmented muscles helped him surf the surge but Kara was hobbled by her coat and scrambling for purchase, her gloved fingers finding none.
As Lee looked on in horror she slipped over the ice edge and was gone, swallowed alive by the black water.
END THIS PART
Also...if you'd like to start at the start...
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/65528.html#cutid1
and then you can go on to...
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/66968.html#cutid1
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 04:09 am (UTC)I am cruel...
Date: 2005-11-09 04:28 am (UTC)Thanks for the feedback.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 04:25 am (UTC)squeeeeeeeeee!!! *hops* :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 04:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 04:57 am (UTC)But I love this story. Hope it's not too long till the final instalment!
Sorry about that...pat...pat...pat
Date: 2005-11-09 04:59 am (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 05:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 05:26 am (UTC)parameter - I think you mean perimeter?
AHHHH! wonderful. and...waiting patiently.
Have I mentioned yet that I LOVE this series? *whimper*
Oh...thanks for catching that...
Date: 2005-11-09 05:41 am (UTC)And...are you REALLY waiting patiently? Rabid feels like she isn't doing enough...prods icicle Kara.
;-D
Glad you are enjoying the series. Hopefully we will have smut soon.
Rae
Re: Oh...thanks for catching that...
Date: 2005-11-09 05:53 am (UTC)*whimper.* NO! YOU CAUGHT ME! I've been waiting and hoping for this one for days. And while I love what we got, now I've got hypothermic Kara snuggling naked with Lee in a sleeping bag to warm up to wait a whole week for! AHHHH!
Smut will be good, but i'm adoring the emotions and the working out of issues. And I'm glad all that won't just melt away with the smutty bits, 'cause it never seems to in your fic, and that's gooooood. :D
Vfl (nursing a pet peeve for when sex drives away all issues-sorry to let the pet peek into the comments. extraneous and unrelated. nevermind.)
It's good to know someone likes issues
Date: 2005-11-09 11:07 pm (UTC)In Home...when Lee backs off and tells Kara he's there for her and loves her...the change of gears he makes...and her soft little smile...(as if she can't really stay mad at him) that tells me these two are capable of letting the love out.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 09:46 am (UTC)I likes it! Angry, frakked-up, angsty, adorable pilots. Good fic!
More on the way soon, I hope
Date: 2005-11-09 11:32 am (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 02:36 pm (UTC){“Boy, Helo must have you dommed. Only a matter of time before you’re pushing out little Helos and cooking up casseroles in the officer’s mess.”} ahh ha ha ha. boy must he even feel more stupid sinve it isnt remotely true.
{“You go back to Caprica to retrieve an arrow that could save us all and end up frakking one of the few people left breathing, right?”} ohhhh yeah...yup he looks bad. heh heh
{....Yeah, we had some nice times back on Caprica before Anders...with Anders.”} oh man, what a great revenge. ah such simmering..
{“Proud of yourself?” } nice blow.
{said he wanted to look at my knee, if you get my drift. } ^__________^
{“But next time you and Dad need a few minutes alone just say so."...“I almost suggested you work me in.”}^_____^
though only happy now cause he knows his suspicions were false.
{She felt him shift closer and then started painfully as the hold doors opened with an unholy clatter.} yup, we get to be teased for longer.
{“You’re that hot pilot from the centerfold. Our XO has you up on his rack.” Starting towards her with a huge grin on his face, he was thrown off stride when Lee stepped into his path. } ^_____^ yay, someone to watch their moves.
{“Now, you’re what I’d call strapping,”} awww, poor boy.
{Feeling trapped and needing to be free of constriction,} nice detail.
well, that definately was a cliffhanger-thier mission is definatly botched.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 04:05 pm (UTC)Please come up with the next installment soon so that I can stop obssessing about this story and become a semi-normal quasi-functioning person again.
(In case that wasn't clear.....I LOVE this series.)
Ooooh, Obsession is nice
Date: 2005-11-09 06:12 pm (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 05:45 pm (UTC)Whoopsie...I put the link up now...for part one
Date: 2005-11-09 06:10 pm (UTC)Find it here: http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/65528.html#cutid1
Rae
thanking you for the feedback
Re: Whoopsie...I put the link up now...for part one
Date: 2005-11-09 06:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-09 07:52 pm (UTC)Can't wait for part 3.
Rabid hops around Gobi...
Date: 2005-11-09 10:54 pm (UTC)Well...not indiscriminate...because look how sweet you are...I'm sure the real Gobi would agree.
Yes, I do love the hot pilot tension as they go nose to nose. It's one of my favorite things about this show...when people are that close it's just a matter of time before someone gets either kissed or decked.
I'm glad I was able to translate the K/L dynamic into words that worked for you.
I suppose you can't wait for Lee to rescue her, too. Why? I ask myself does nobody think she's going to rescue him? Probably because she's the one in the water right now, huh?
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-10 01:49 am (UTC)[note, these are not actual awards. I can, however, think of some sort of prize if you feed my addiction (and feed it well, as you have).]
LJ is tormenting me...with late postings of comments
Date: 2005-12-10 03:25 pm (UTC)Rae
Re: LJ is tormenting me...with late postings of comments
Date: 2005-12-10 10:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-11 06:14 am (UTC)(And I found one tiny typo:
A cold shower of apprehension wilted Lee’s blossoming hostility. Wincing, he turned his profile to her. “Frak you,” he breathed.
“That’s [you’re] answer to everything isn’t it, Captain?”)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 02:37 am (UTC)Yes, it is true...I am a tease
Date: 2005-12-08 06:12 am (UTC)Thank you for the feedback...it's been fun having you catch up like this...sort of instant input. ;-D
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-10 06:00 am (UTC)Sadly not the last cliffie, though
Date: 2005-12-10 03:14 pm (UTC)Rae
Re: Sadly not the last cliffie, though
Date: 2005-12-10 10:57 pm (UTC)Re: Sadly not the last cliffie, though
Date: 2005-12-10 10:58 pm (UTC)