Title: Testing the Gods
Pairing: K/L and a little K/S
Spoilers: Up to 2.20 Lay Down Your Burdens, Pt. 2
Rating: G
Category: Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: Ron D. Moore owns it all.
Author's Note: Written for lyssie's 42 Days in Hell Fic Battle: The prompt was Battlestar Galactica, Kara, Home.

She tried to tell herself it was just the alcohol.

She and Sam had already choked down at least five rounds of the Chief's finest by the time Lee pushed open the hatch to the Senior Officers' Quarters.

Kara felt happier than she could remember being in a really long time. Since before she went looking for that frakking arrow anyway and her life became an unending string of promises you couldn't keep and sacrifices you could choke on and lies that sounded like the truth if you only said them loud enough.

But now it was all good, because Sammy was here, kissing her and not dead and grinning like she could spit miracles. Hell, some days she could. Maybe today was one of them.

So when Lee came through the doorway, with one of his lame quips that she only half heard (oh, he's nervous), maybe she was testing the gods just a little.

But it was only because he hadn't been on the flight deck when they'd returned and Kara had been…surprised. Not that commanding a battleship left a lot of free time in the schedule but it felt strange for him not to be there. Lee was always there when she came back. That was the deal. Even if they'd never shook on it or spoken of it, they both knew it. No matter how far she went, she'd come back and he'd be there.

So if now she breathed out a greeting in a voice that was too much Kara and not nearly enough Starbuck and skipped (really? skipping?) over to him. If she folded her arms around his neck and closed her eyes and finally was able to breathe. If she ignored the little click she felt in her gut and that feeling that was too much like relief (and maybe something else) warming her blood when he whispered, "Welcome Back."

Maybe, she thought for one moment, if she blamed all that on the alcohol, the gods might let her keep them both.

But Kara wasn't that drunk or that foolish.

So she spun away, fast enough to make them both dizzy, and she…skipped…back to Sam and his blue eyes and his dark hair and his muscular arms. And it was almost…even if she had to raise up on her toes to throw an arm around his shoulders and drag his head down to kiss him, it was good. This was good.

And after a few more drinks, and more kisses, when she heard the sound of receding footsteps and a hatch clanging shut, Kara thanked the gods anyway and refused to think about the ways it didn't feel like coming home.
--fin--