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Entry tags:
stolen from Clairza
Fuckit. I'm not getting any work done tonight.
Reply with an icon, and I'll write you a ficlet about it.
ETA: My brain has pretty much shut down, but I will keep writing these tomorrow; if you want to request one then do feel free to leave a comment :)
Reply with an icon, and I'll write you a ficlet about it.
ETA: My brain has pretty much shut down, but I will keep writing these tomorrow; if you want to request one then do feel free to leave a comment :)
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He laughs too, eventually, because it's easier than finding words for the fear.
"We should get to CIC. Report this."
"Frak 'em," Kara slurs, her hand gripping his shoulder with a force suspiciously contradictory to the weakness in her voice. "We almost died. I think we're allowed a little R&R, Captain."
Lee lets his head fall back with a quiet thunk and smiles ruefully at the ceiling. "On the floor of the shooting range?"
"Quiet. Cozy." Kara exhales noisily into his ear.
"You're insane."
"You keep saying that."
"That's because it takes five times longer to get an idea into your thick skull than -"
Kara's fingers are lying across his mouth, tapping absently, as though she's not quite sure how they got there. "Stop talking," she mumbles into his shoulder, "you're using up the oxygen."
He opens his mouth to point out how utterly illogical she's being, and then realises the folly of rising to her bait. He closes it. She giggles, her chest vibrating softly against his side.
"Kara," he begins, exasperated, and her fingers flutter against his half-open lips and normally he wouldn't even have noticed the quick inrush of her breath, but it creates a momentary vacuum adjacent to his neck. Neither of them moves. The rest of Lee's sentence has been sucked away into that empty space.
Kara covers. She's good at that.
"Sir," she says unsteadily, "I would like to lodge a complaint against my CAG's shoulder. It's entirely too starched to be comfortable."
"All complaints regarding the uniform of your superior officer are to be completed in triplicate. Backwards," he adds, and she whacks him sleepily on the collarbone.
He can hear a quiet groan from across the room, and is struck with a brief pang of immense relief; he hasn't lost a pilot today. Not yet. There are more voices outside, where someone's obviously found the shattered glass. Lee should sit up, check on Hotdog, give the sitrep and go back to his duty. His breaths are coming easier. There's no excuse to just lie there.
Kara is still muttering uncomplimentary things two inches from his ear, and her hand is still resting on his shoulder.
He should sit up.
He should sit up.
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OH POST-COITAL WONDERMENT!!!1dfjasd
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*splashes you with water*
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plz to not be dying, my lizzen
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:O
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SEE
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*soothes*
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