Title: They Travel in Packs
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: Adult
Word count: 1,986
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
Spoilers: general for s3
Setting: hmm… maybe around the time of Woman King?
Disclaimer: the usual, not mine, yadda, yadda, yadda
Notes: Written for Lyssie who wanted Kara/Sam, Joe's Bar, last call, limes, and sticky fingers. Thank you LizardbethJ and mrushGDI for the beta. Oh, and the title comes from the song I was listening to on repeat as I wrote this. Heh.
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They travel in packs of two or three
With their itsy bitsy doggies and their teeny-weeny tees
--Stupid Girls by Pink
CAP had been about the most boring, mind-numbing thing ever. Kara had flown wingman to one of her more puppy-like nuggets, which would've been okay if Athena and Racetrack had been on Raptor duty. But no, it had been Dragon, who hardly ever said a word, and Songbird, who hardly ever stopped talking.
Kara didn't bother with a shower or even changing out of her flight suit; all she wanted was a drink and a few minutes to relax, and so she headed straight from the post-flight check to Joe's. It was late and she had a headache.
Standing in the makeshift doorway, she surveyed the surprisingly large crowd. A smoky piece of music played in the background, a low thrum beneath the voices of men and women unwinding, having a good time, and in one case, having a pretty spectacular disagreement. Eyes drifting to the raised voices, Kara smiled – Maggie was tearing Connor a new one. Jackass probably called her Marge again.
She unzipped her flight suit and worked her way over to the bar. On the one hand, she didn't want to interrupt the show, but on the other, she was frakking thirsty. Kara smacked the palm of her hand on the bar to gain Connor's attention. He shot a glare her way, another at the Raptor pilot, then stalked over to take Kara's order.
"Maggie looks real good in green and blue, doesn't she?" she observed with a smirk.
Connor narrowed his eyes, not rising to the bait, but then he gave her a wicked grin as he glanced back down the bar. "What'll you have, Captain?" was all he said.
Kara raised one brow. "You mean there's a choice?"
"Ha! Sorry. Not tonight." He left to grab a glass of Galactica's best 'shine and Kara turned, leaned her elbows on the bar.
There were actually a couple of people dancing, although the music that swirled around the room had no bearing on their moves. The rattling smack of a ball against the backdrop of the pyramid goal drew her eyes.
"Hey, Connor!" she shouted over her shoulder, eyes fixed on the broad shoulders and dark head of the man at the goal. Two girls were hanging on him. It'd been a long time since she'd had a couple of groupies for breakfast. Or in this case, dinner. "Make that two and bring some limes!"
One of the girls, a tiny blonde in a low-cut blouse and a push-up bra, giggled and took the ball from Sam's fingers. It took her several seconds to prepare herself for the simple shot, during which Sam turned toward Kara and rolled his eyes. She cocked her head and grinned, wide and evil, not at all surprised that Sam knew she was there. This was going to be fun.
"Here you go, Starbuck."
Taking up both drinks and the limes, which were in a third glass, Kara told him, "Put it on Sam's tab."
As Kara drew closer to the trio at the pyramid "court," the other girl, tall and dark-skinned, said, "Oh, Sammy, would you show me how to throw the ball? I don't want to embarrass myself." Kara about choked. She did splash 'shine on her fingers.
She set her burden down on the table nearest the goal and sucked at sticky fingers, laughing inside at the poor little girls so out of their league when Sam's eyes fastened on her mouth. For him as much as his groupies, Kara made a show of slowly drawing her finger from between her lips.
The sugary sweet smile on the giggly one's lips faltered for a second, but then she turned her attention fully on Sam, possessively stroking his tattoo. "This is such an unusual tattoo," she observed, tracing the symbol with one red-lacquered nail. She leaned into him, then, and whispered loudly, "It's really sexy…"
Kara smiled sweetly as she unzipped her flight suit the rest of the way and shrugged her shoulders. She locked eyes with Sam as the rubbery suit slid down her otherwise bare arms; she shivered, and not just because of the tickle on her skin. Still smiling, allowing the expression to turn a little predatory as two pairs of little-girl eyes looked from Sam to her, Kara sucked hard on a slice of lime and then tossed back her glass of 'shine, slamming it back down on the table with a grimace.
The little blonde – clearly the smarter of the two – took a couple of steps away from Sam, but the other groupie pressed her breasts into Sam's arm. Sam cocked his head and grinned at Kara, waiting to see what she would do.
Grabbing up the other drink, dropping a slice of lime into the clear liquid, she sauntered over to her husband and his groupie. You'd think they'd forget about a professional pyramid player, after all these years, Kara thought, but no. Every once in a while, they still came out of the woodwork. She supposed it didn't help that Sam had led the resistance on New Caprica and thus had still been, in some ways, very much in the spotlight.
"Hey, honey," she greeted Sam, again smiling sweetly, offering him the drink in her hand and nearly laughing out load as the groupie noticed the mirror-image of Sam's tattoo gracing Kara's arm.
"Hey, baby." Sam's grin broadened and he slipped out from under the groupie's grasp, fully aware that Kara was going to make him pay dearly for "baby." He pulled her in with one hand, bringing her body flush with his, and took hold of the glass with the other. Leaning in, he tried to kiss her, but she evaded the move and instead bit his chin, before taking his mouth.
When Kara would've pulled away to play a little more with the groupie, Sam tightened his arms around her, thrust his tongue into her mouth, licked at hers before releasing her mouth only to take her lower lip between his teeth.
Kara lost all track of time, the blood roaring in her ears nearly drowning out the sound of cheers and whistles. The sound finally penetrated her brain and it occurred to her that she was still more or less in uniform and all but frakking her husband in very public view. Pulling back to look at Sam, she saw a stunned look in his eyes, quickly shuttered. A movement nearby drew her attention – the groupies beating a hasty retreat through the crowd of applauding pilots and deck crew and former civilian resistance.
"Damn."
Sam kissed her on the forehead. "What's wrong, Kara?"
"I wanted to play with your little friends for a while longer."
Kara was still laughing at something Sam had said, but she'd be damned if she could remember what it was. All she knew was that it felt good.
"Hey, guys," Connor interrupted, swiping a rag over the polished plastic of the bar. "Last call. You want another one for the road?"
That set her off again. "For the road…?" She felt Sam's hand at the base of her spine as she threw her head back and roared, knocking herself off balance and falling into Sam's heat. His arm shot around her and he pulled her onto his lap rather than let her fall to the deck.
She blinked up at him. "Gods, I'm drunk." She frowned. "Wait a minute. If I'm this drunk, how are you even conscious?"
"'s all part of my plan."
Kara snaked her arms up around Sam's shoulders, played with the hair at the back of his neck and leaned in to lick at the base of his throat. With a wicked chuckle, she wriggled in his lap, inordinately pleased with herself when his eyes drifted closed and he squirmed on the barstool.
"What plan would that be, Samuel?" she whispered and nipped at his ear.
"Can't properly take ad-advantage of you…" He caught her hair in one and pulled her head back. "… if I'm flat on the floor." She leaned into it as he sucked at her throat.
"Mmm…" she murmured approvingly, "… I like you flat on the floor." Connor forcefully set down two more drinks and a dish of limes, momentarily distracting them.
"Connor, man, where the frak… the frak are the limes coming from?" Sam asked, his voice a little rough.
"I'm not at liberty to say, Sam. But Joe has a stash he keeps just for Captain Thrace."
"Oh, really?" Sam looked at Kara, one brow raised.
"I guess he likes me."
Sam picked up a lime slice, held it up for inspection, then traced it lightly over Kara's lips. She licked at the sweet-sour juice and then took up a lime of her own, took his hand and turned it over, palm up. With a significant look at Connor, who immediately backed off and began shutting down lights, she squeezed juice into Sam's hand, over his fingers.
"Kara, what—?"
She cut him off by lifting his hand and sucking his now-sticky fingers into her mouth one at a time, suckling them, and then licked the juice from his palm. She thought she heard Connor say good night and something about locking up as walked out and then the clang of the gate closing, but she wasn't paying enough attention to anything but Sam's beautiful, strong hands to know for sure.
And then he was pulling those hands from her grasp, using them to pull up her tanks and lift them over her head and then filling those same hands with her breasts. She grinned, leaned into his touch while at the same time sliding from his lap so that she could work at his belt and trousers.
The only sound in the otherwise sleeping bar was the hum of the great ship, like an ever-present heartbeat, and the sound of their breathing as Kara peeled away his pants and briefs then stepped out of her flight suit, stumbling when she met resistance and realized that she hadn't taken off her boots.
Sam laughed and crouched to take care of that for her by first sucking a nipple into his mouth and then licking his way down. The simple task took much longer than it should have and, given the dexterity of Sam's fingers and tongue, Kara was more than pleased with the delay. By the time he'd stripped off her boots and flight suit, her trousers and underwear, her knees had turned to rubber.
A sharp tug as she let herself drop to the deck and Sam lost his balance, following her down. She rolled until he was on his back and she lay across him, his cock hard against her hip. She moved, slid up his body until her breasts were again within reach of his talented mouth. As he suckled her, she rocked against his member, slowly at first but then faster as the friction grew sweeter, hotter, and became almost more than she could stand.
"Now, Kara," Sam demanded, pushing her down, digging his fingers into her hipbones.
"Not yet," she whispered, reaching between them to close her fist tightly around him. She squeezed, once, twice and Sam gasped.
"Kara!"
She leaned down to kiss him, sucked his tongue into her mouth as she squeezed him again. He groaned. "You gonna call me 'baby' again, Sam?"
"Probably," he gasped into her mouth.
She bit his lip. "You sure about that?"
Without warning, he rolled her, reversing their positions. Before she could protest – not that she really wanted to – he pulled himself out of her hand, kissed her hard. And then he pushed into her and she arched against him, taking him in deep.
"I won't say it in public," he conceded before pulling slowly out of her, then thrusting into her again and again until she shattered into infinity, his whispered, "Baby, I love you," echoing in her ears.