Kara: Let's go.

Anders: Are you kidding me? I'll wipe the court with you.

Kara: We'll see about that…I was up for the pros…bum knee took me out of contention.

Anders: I see…is that going to be your excuse when I kick your ass: 'My poor knee hurts'?

Kara: At least I have an excuse; can't imagine what yours is going to be.

In the end, who really wins?

Resistance is Futile

Anders opened the door to the makeshift room, furnished with the bare minimum that had been scrounged from what was left in the compound since the cylon invasion of Caprica.

"Shower's in there," he indicated with a lazy nod of his head in the general direction of a doorway towards the back of the room. "Ladies first."

Kara glanced at him with a questioning tilt to her head as he turned to face her, unsure of how to take his comment. Her eyes were narrowed by the slightest degree, but she couldn't help a small smirk as she saw him gallantly make a sweeping gesture with his hand as she passed. His only response was a wry grin, his white teeth flashing against his tanned skin for a few seconds before he wandered over to the bed. He glanced down at his sweat-soaked shirt and changed tack, deciding instead to sit on the floor with his back slumped against the bed.

"Thanks. Just give me a sec." Her legs felt like jelly as she shuffled further into the room and she winced as she eased herself down onto the couch. "I think I need some recovery time first."

Kara sat on the edge of the couch, roughly combing her fingers through the tendrils of damp hair that stuck to her face. The sweat from the game had evaporated, leaving behind a salty stickiness that clung to her like a second skin. She was convinced the nuclear fallout had affected the weather as she had rarely felt Caprica this hot and humid in her lifetime. She hastily tugged at her outermost tank and dragged it over her head, letting it fall in a crumpled heap beside her as she sucked in a lungful of warm air.

It had been a long time since Kara had set foot on a pyramid court and muscles that she had forgotten existed kept twinging as a reminder of her assault on them. But the moment Anders had challenged her as she had reminisced over her glory days, the competitive Starbuck spark had ignited. Competition and adrenalin were an evil combination, Kara mused; an irresistible drug that pushed her to the limit every time.

When Kara played, she played hard. And now she was paying for it.

She surreptitiously looked at where Sam was propped against the bed, his breathing easing back to normal along with her own. His head was tilted backwards, resting against the mattress, and his eyes were closed. The moisture in his shirt caused it to contour to his body, and the constricting garment was inhibiting him from cooling down. He curled his fingers around the base of the shirt and pulled it up, the elastic resisting the action as it stretched over his head, and it left his hair sticking out haphazardly in its wake. He unceremoniously tossed the shirt on the floor next to him before returning to his previous position and closing his eyes.

"Sometimes I wouldn't mind being back up in the mountains," he muttered, and Kara took the snippet of conversation as an excuse to look more fully in his direction.

"It had to be at least twenty degrees cooler up there," he surmised.

He ran a finger across his temple to ward off the single bead of sweat that had started its journey from his scalp. There was a thin sheen to his exposed skin, his bare chest a morphing canvas of shadow and light as his ribs expanded with each breath. After a few seconds he opened his eyes again, and Kara had barely managed to turn her attention to her boots before he looked towards her.

"At least you have weather," she said as she unlaced her boots. "Try living on a battlestar with air constantly looped through a conditioning unit." She freed her toes from her socks, but it did little to help cool them in the encompassing humidity.

"Although, come to think of it, I don't think I'm convinced that is necessarily a bad thing," she decided as she eyed her damp socks in disgust before shoving them into her boots.

"Well, once your mission is finished, I guess you won't have to worry about that anymore." Kara looked at him, gauging whether he was disappointed by her impending return to Galactica.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments and they broke the gaze, each contemplating the implications of the statement. Life had been a bitch since the invasion; survival was the main objective. They both knew it, but neither wanted to accept the fact. Even if it were only for a while, it was comforting to do something just for the fun of it, something that was a reminder of what life was like before that fateful day.

Kara rolled up the legs of her pants, wincing as the material scraped against the scratches on her legs.

"Hmm," Sam mused. "That does look bad."

"This?" she asked incredulously. She glanced down at the angry graze that ran down her shin. It stung like hell, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Just a surface wound," she claimed, lightly scratching over the tingling nerves with her knuckles. "I'll live."

"No," he retorted. "That." He was pointing at her leg and she looked more closely, tipping her head from side to side as she examined the length of her leg.

"Where?" she asked, baffled as to what he could see.

"Right there," he stated, pointing more insistently. She continued her clueless search for a few moments until she heard him sigh, then he shifted his weight and shuffled the short distance to where she sat, crouching on his knees in front of her.

"It's really obvious," he said in an exasperated tone. She was mesmerised as she watched his finger come to rest just below her kneecap. "That knee certainly looks bad. I'm surprised you even managed to score a goal at all."

She dragged her eyes away from where his finger was still touching her skin, her vision skimming past his roguish grin to focus on the mischievous glint in his blue eyes. But there was something else lurking in there also: an instantaneous connection, an inquisitive wonder, a respect that was earned as opposed to forced by rank. She barely knew this guy, yet that only added to his appeal. It was one of the few times she was free to interact with someone without her reputation preceding her. No one back on Galactica would have jibed Kara over a defeat unless they had quick reflexes or a higher rank - or both.

"Oh yeah, that," she agreed. "You managed to beat not only a girl, but a crippled one at that," she claimed with a melodramatic grimace. "And by a whopping margin of two goals," she added. "You must be so proud."

"Well, I didn't want to annihilate you," he said, throwing her a self-deprecating smile.

She laughed at his cocky attitude as he lazily traced his finger around her knee-cap, as though searching for a scar.

"Enjoy your victory while it lasts," she warned, pointing at the non-existent injury, "because once I get some strength back in this knee, your glory days will merely be a memory."

Sam shifted until the palms of both hands rested just above her knees, and he gently pushed himself up until his eyes were level with hers. He leaned ever so slightly towards her, and Kara could feel the pressure of his hands pressing into the muscles of her thighs.

"I love a challenge," he bragged with a husky whisper.

She was thinking about a come-back when she saw his eyes make the journey to her lips. He briefly looked up to see if he met any objection, but all he saw was desire in her hazel eyes, so his gaze shifted back to its previous location as he slowly leaned closer.

In that instant, Kara forgot everything else: the cylons, her mission…the rest of humanity. All she was focused on was getting to those lips as quickly as possible.

She closed her eyes to allow her sense of touch to take precedence; her mind had difficulty fathoming how such soft lips were part of such a strong body. Her hands worked automatically, reaching out until they grazed the sleek skin of his forearms, deciphering each muscle as they assertively made their way to his biceps.

She could feel Sam start to shift, levering himself to a standing position without breaking contact with her mouth. One of her hands snaked its way over his shoulder and curled around the base of his neck, holding him steady in case he was going to pull away.

Sam's body stopped moving for a moment, his mind too busy concentrating on the sensation of Kara's mouth moving against his own. He almost lost his ability to stand when he felt her tongue tantalisingly traverse along his bottom lip. He opened his mouth in response, pushing his tongue against hers and he felt her relenting, leaning back until her head was pressed into the back of the couch. He slid one hand behind her back and along her spine until it caressed the base of her skull, and the other slipped from her thigh until it rested against the soft skin in the crook of her knee. He pulled gently until she sank further into the couch so he could crawl a little higher, his weight pushing her into the couch as he settled against her.

Despite the humidity, Kara revelled in feeling the heat of his bare chest radiating though the thin material of the solitary tank top she was still wearing. She shifted until both arms dug into the muscles of his back, helping gravity increase contact between their bodies. She was considering how she could get her tank off in minimal time when she felt his fingers probing into the sensitive skin behind her knee, and she sighed slightly at the pleasurable impulse shooting through her.

Sam was pleased to see the effect he was having on her when she arched into him with her eyes tightly squeezed. However, he decided to play along with the banter over her exaggerated injury. "So I guess I had better be careful of that knee if I want any chance of a rematch?" he murmured, struggling to finish the sentence between her kisses as her fingers made their way up to tangle through his hair.

"It might need to recuperate," she replied, her lips brushing against his ear as she spoke, "before I hit the court again."

Sam could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stick out with each word that tumbled from her mouth and he pulled back a little, crinkling his brow in mock disappointment.

The hand Kara had tangled in his hair now slid down his face, allowing her index finger to brush over his bottom lip.

Sam moved his hand up to grasp hers, linking their fingers as he pressed their hands into the couch beside them. He quickly found her lips again, savouring the feel of her hot mouth moving against his before he broke away to trail kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.

And then he felt her warm breath tickle his earlobe when she added with a whisper: "Lucky for you, it doesn't stop me from other recreational activities."