Seriously sappy romance warning reader beware! g
Chapter 5
Kara landed her Viper with all the skill and none of the interest that she usually managed. It was one more reason she was angry. Not only was the jerk making it impossible for her to sleep and boring for her to run, but he had even managed to occupy her mind during flight and suck the joy out of the only patrol she'd have for three days.
She might have to kill him.
The past week had managed to destroy her nerves in a way that she had never experienced before. It wasn't just a matter of feeling like she'd done something wrong — she was way past that — but rather of wondering what the frak had happened to the one man in the world that she had thought she understood. She hadn't been lying when she'd said it wasn't over. She was going to find out what was with him, or kill both of them trying. She simply couldn't go on this way.
At first, she'd actually thought it was her imagination. He'd been a little distant, yeah, but everyone had a right to be preoccupied on occasion. She knew he wasn't sleeping very well, although he wouldn't tell her why. Up until a week ago, she'd been very aware of his sleeping habits. He had awoken her more than once getting up in the middle of the night, scooting over as far as he could manage without hitting the floor, and even taking showers at two in the morning. Something had been on his mind, and she had trusted that eventually he would come to her with it. That was just what they did for one another — they confided, and they listened. But he hadn't, and she was damned tired of waiting.
Her waiting was over.
She shut down systems in the Viper by rote, grabbing the clipboard from Cally just as soon as the canopy slid open and tapping in the relevant information into it as quickly as she could. She had the information entered before she even bothered with taking off her helmet.
"Everything go okay?" Cally asked her once she had taken the metal and lexan helmet from Kara. It was the usual routine, but Kara felt a long way from usual.
"Fine."
"Anything notable on patrol?"
"No."
"Any problems with the Viper?"
"No."
"Going to tell me what has you pissed off?"
Kara's head snapped up at that, and she met brown eyes that didn't seem nearly as young as they had a couple of years ago. Cally was a good kid, and maybe more than a kid, but Kara had no desire to get into this with anyone except Lee. She was going to beat the crap out of someone, and she preferred that it be the object of her fury. "No," she said simply. Then, after taking a deep breath, "But thanks for asking."
"I'll finish here," Cally offered. "If I have any questions, I'll call you. Go ahead and grab a shower or a run or something. You look like you need to unwind."
Kara hadn't had a clue that she was so obvious, but she didn't care. She wasn't throwing away an opportunity like this. She had become almost civilized over the last couple of years, and she had forgotten the incredible adrenaline rush that accompanied unchecked anger and the promise of physical violence. "Thanks," she said gratefully as Cally unsnapped her collar and moved to the side of the stepladder to let Kara by.
Later, Kara wouldn't even remember the walk from the flight deck to Lee's room. She didn't pay particular attention to any of it. She had one goal in her mind, and one alone. She was going to beat the living daylights out of her roommate until he finally gave her some answers. Whatever his issues might be, she was going to figure it out, and she was doing it now. She truly hoped that he was sleeping; she wanted to get in the first punch before he had a chance to fight back. She hadn't learned her legendary right-cross on her own.
Shoving the hatch open, she found Lee sitting on the edge of the bed. His defeated expression didn't register, nor did his slumped posture or tired eyes. The only thing that she saw was that he was there, well within her reach, and she had every intention of hitting him.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" she growled as she pulled the hatch closed behind her and stepped towards him. He stood up immediately, assuming a defensive posture, and she honestly couldn't blame him for the choice. "It's bad enough that you won't stay in the same room with me for ten seconds, but I will not let you get away with it in front of the rooks."
"I'm sorry," he told her softly. She ignored him.
"I don't know what the frak your problem has been, but I'm sick and tired of being avoided and ignored. If you have a problem with me," she declared as she poked a sharp finger into the center of his chest, "Then I suggest you tell me what it is, or I swear I'm going to beat it out of you."
Lee had backed up a step, likely to get clear of her finger, which had brought his back to his locker and stopped his retreat. That was good. She had no intentions of chasing him around the room.
"I haven't done anything wrong!" she told him firmly, and very loudly. "At least nothing to justify you acting like I suddenly have a plague or something. I'm sick of people asking what your problem is and not knowing because you won't even open your frakking mouth and talk to me!"
He was flattened against the locker now, and she was screaming at him eye-to-eye. Her hands were clenched into fists, but she hadn't yet raised one against him. She was saving that. She hadn't hit Lee in years, but she remembered that it could be a very satisfying experience. She was looking forward to revisiting that feeling.
"You asked me to move in here," she growled. "If you've changed your frakking mind, just say something, damn-it! Don't treat me like a child, and don't you dare say that nothing's wrong!"
"I won't," he told her, his voice oddly quiet.
He wasn't arguing. He wasn't protesting. He wasn't defending himself. He wasn't doing a thing that she had expected him to do, and that only increased her fury. Couldn't this man just once do what she thought he would? Didn't she have any ability to read him anymore? Wasn't he the least bit upset that she was threatening his life here?
"So what the frak are you going to do?"
He closed his eyes to her, most likely gathering his thoughts for some kind of an explanation, but the implied dismissal was the last straw. "Shit!" she declared as she hauled her right arm back and let it fly.
Lee was fast. Whether it had been her shouted exclamation, or if he just had some sense of rushing air and frantic woman, she would never know for sure. But she had learned to fight at his side, and he knew how to get around her. Rather than sidestepping her — which would have put her in a cast when her fist hit the locker behind him — he reached forward for her upper arms and used his superior arm length to his advantage. Braced against the locker, his arms locked into position and his hands gripping her arms, she had no momentum to complete the swing.
But she didn't give up. Hands and arms effectively useless, she went with feet, legs, and knees. She couldn't get close enough to make a knee do any permanent damage, but she came damned close. Feet on the other hand were just fine. She placed a sharp kick of her flight boots into his right shin and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes close in pain and his grip momentarily lessen.
But she never got her arms free. Instead of defending himself as she had expected, he went on the offensive. Holding on to her upper arms with enough strength to bruise, he used the locker for support and lifted one leg to wrap it around hers. If she hadn't been kicking him, she might have stayed upright, but as it was he took her only solid leg from beneath her, pressed forward with his shoulders, and sent them both towards the floor with her on the bottom.
Kara had never been so grateful to land on a bed in her life. With the momentum they'd been carrying, she might have broken an arm, or at the very least banged her back up bad enough to keep her out of the Vipers for a month. As it was, she was laying beneath him across the bed, her arms still pinned, and his knee resting firmly between her legs. She could still kick, but there was nothing in range for her to connect with. And damn him, he was too frakking heavy to buck off.
"Let me up!" she screamed with all the fury that was in her, not the least bit tempered by the embarrassment of having lost round one.
"Not a chance," he told her loudly, and she at least had the satisfaction of knowing that the effort had cost him. He was out of breath, and the pain was in his eyes if not in his expression.
"Then tell me what the frak is going on!" she demanded. She couldn't do more from her position, and it only increased her anger at him. This was his fault — all of it — and she didn't intend to let him forget that fact.
"Then shut up and listen to me," he suggested.
He was not telling her what to do. If she wanted to yell, then she'd yell. She didn't care if the whole crew heard her. Hell, half of them knew something was frakking wrong with him in the first place. She knew, because they'd been asking her, and she'd had no idea what to tell them. If the whole ship wanted to listen in on her rant, then it would only reduce the numbers to whom she would have to tell the story.
"Damn it, Lee, get the frak off me!" she screamed, and was so loud that the words were almost incoherent. She hadn't been this worked up about anyone or anything since she had sent a fist flying into Tigh's face years before, and she had three years of banked rage at life in general that she was fully planning to unleash on this man.
"Oh, shit," he finally said, and his voice was that oddly soft tone again. She could absolutely feel her blood pressure rise. With her luck, she'd have a stroke, but even at that he would have to explain her death. Maybe they'd stick him on the Astral Queen for blatant attempted murder.
She opened her mouth to scream again, this time for any help she might be able to get from those passing in the corridors, when his mouth descended to hers.
For a moment, she froze. If he'd been going for shock factor, he'd achieved it. She had to give him that. And yet while her first instinct was to bite a chunk out of his lower lip, there was something else in the kiss that she just couldn't ignore, despite her best efforts.
Lee was shaking. It wasn't the usual tremors resulting from anger or battle; she knew those well herself. What she was feeling was something else, and that was confirmed by the soft sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh as he shifted his lips on hers and settled himself in for the long haul.
She wasn't going to bite him. Not now. She was still furious, but she decided to put that energy into the kiss rather than into the beating he so richly deserved. She leaned up and kissed him back, hard. If he thought this was going to get him out of anything, he was sorely mistaken. She kissed him as she had wanted to do for as long as she could remember, with lips and teeth and tongue all mixing around with his. She kissed him until she couldn't have screamed if she'd wanted to, because she didn't have that much air left. She kissed him until he turned the tables and really began kissing her back. And then he took her under.
They had kissed before. Oh, even more than the pecks on the cheek as friends or the more avid kisses from a few months ago. But he hadn't made a move since, and she had assumed that he had regretted his actions. He'd asked her to move in, but once she'd taken up residence in his room he'd established a definite hands-off policy. They might hold one another at night, but during the daytime she was lucky to get more than a pat on the back. When he'd asked for a roommate, and assured her that it was nothing more than that, he had really meant it. She had been disappointed, but had accepted it. She really hadn't been ready for more anyway.
But this was not the kiss of a man who wasn't interested. It wasn't just an effort to end a fight or take her off guard. It wasn't gentle, and it wasn't coaxing. It was hot and powerful, and yet still not rough exactly. He wasn't hurting her, but he was making it clear that he was in full control of the situation. She did all she could to stay angry, and yet she just couldn't manage it. There was something almost frightening about the power of his lips on hers, his body pressing her heavily into the bed, and one of his arms moving subtly from restraint to holding her.
Maybe it was because he hadn't really touched her in over a week, and hadn't seemed to enjoy it for some time before that. Maybe it was because she hadn't been kissed, really kissed, in years. Maybe it was because this was Lee, and he'd been in her thoughts and dreams more often lately than she had. And maybe, just maybe, the reason she couldn't summon the will to resist it was because she had wanted just this to happen for so damn long that she couldn't remember when the wanting had started.
So he kissed her, and she kissed him back. Once he had released her arms, coming down to rest on his own as he remained above her, she slid her arms around him and pulled him closer. He didn't resist. He seemed to settle down into her body, his arm around her fully and his weight off just to one side. His knee was still between her legs, but it was more for support than to pin her down. Despite the aggressive nature of the kiss, she didn't feel the least bit frightened. Confused? Hell, yes, but not frightened. After all, this was Lee.
Kara totally lost track of time. He didn't really try to go further than that kiss, although it was deep enough on a lot of levels that he didn't have to. His right arm stayed around her back, tucking her close to his body, while his left supported most of his weight so she didn't get crushed or have to wonder about breathing. His kiss was mobile, always changing and surprising her. Sometimes it was gentle pecks, sometimes deep and consuming, and sometimes just the gentlest tracing of his tongue over and around hers. As much as she hated it, she didn't really mind him taking control for this one time. She was enjoying the journey, even though she had no clue what the destination might be. She kissed him back, followed his lead, and without even realizing it, the anger and resentment that had built in the last week proceeded to drain completely from her. There was no room in this kiss for anger.
After a long time — a very long time — Lee raised his head and rested his forehead against hers. His breathing was shallow and uneven, and his eyes were firmly closed. The expression on his face was bordering somewhere between pain and relief; she didn't know which way it was going topple. Finally, after more than two or three minutes of his silence, during which she managed to get her own breathing back under control, he opened his eyes to look at her.
She had never seen so much conflict, so much raw confusion, in her life. It looked like pain was definitely going to win out over relief, because his eyes were absolutely miserable. Despite her previous anger, and her banked irritation that he had cut her off in mid fight without even shedding a little blood as a courtesy, she had to be concerned. "Are you okay?" she asked softly. Her voice was hoarse. She didn't even know if he'd understand her.
"Not really," he admitted. "No."
She watched him for a few minutes longer, but he neither moved nor resumed kissing her. He just watched her. She did the same to him.
"Are you okay?" he finally asked.
She had to think about it. Emotionally, she was better than she'd expected. After the attack a couple of years back, she hadn't known if she'd ever be able to lay beneath a man without fear. But this was Lee, and she simply couldn't fear him. Physically, she was fine. She might have some slight bruising on her biceps due to his exceptionally strong grip — not that she'd given him much of a choice - but beyond that she seemed pretty much unscathed. She figured his shins would show the same colorful marks. Given the damage she'd set out to inflict, she decided that they'd both come out as well as could be expected. "I think so," she told him. "Do you want to tell me what just happened?"
He gave her a grin, but it lacked his usual sarcastic charm. "I was hoping you could tell me," he admitted.
"You've been deliberately avoiding me," she said, but her voice was calm and she thought her tone was quite reasonable. "I expect for you to tell me why."
He didn't deny it, but instead nodded. "I have been. I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fix it," she reminded him. "But a reason would help. I've thought about it a lot, and I can't think of anything specific I've done. So if it isn't me, it has to be you. Right?"
"Right," he admitted softly. Very softly. His eyes weren't entirely focused, and as she watched they seemed to cloud over as his head dropped back down and he kissed her again. It wasn't as urgent — more a confirmation that the original kiss had happened than anything else — and she couldn't find it in her to mind. She hadn't had a clue how good it would feel to kiss Lee. It wasn't just lips either, but all of him. His body moved gently against hers, shifting his weight and starting a tingle that began in her stomach and seemed to radiate outwards. When he lifted his head, she thought it was entirely too soon.
"So," she began, then had to clear her throat to make the word audible. "So, what's the problem?"
He looked at her again with that same distracted expression, and then smiled. "This is pretty much it," he admitted. "Or at least, not this."
"And this makes sense how?" she asked with raised eyebrows.
"Nothing's really making much sense," he said gently. "And that's most of the problem. I figured that if I could just steer clear of you for a while, this would ease up." He shrugged one shoulder and gave another grin that didn't reach his eyes. "It didn't."
"What wouldn't ease up?"
At that, he sighed, but it wasn't the contented murmur it had been when he'd been kissing her. It was a frustrated sound, irritated and confused and actually rather disturbing in its own way. "This," he clarified.
At first she didn't understand. His expression hadn't changed much, and he hadn't said anything. He had just shifted his weight. Then the significance hit her, and she had to use all her energy not to blush. It had been a lot of years, but the pressure against her left thigh was unmistakable as he pressed his groin against her, even through the material of his duty uniform and her thicker flight suit. So that was the problem. She'd always been told that men thought with their Well, she'd never before seen such a blatant case of purely southern thinking.
"And that's a problem?" she asked.
"At the moment, it's a big one," he admitted, and then his blush surpassed hers as the double meaning of those words sunk in.
She had to smile. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," she muttered, her face so hot that she knew it must be glowing.
He rolled to the side and off her, and she didn't know whether to be relieved or not. "I meant the problem," he clarified as he gently smacked her in the arm. She winced a little — it was very close to where he'd grabbed her — and he pulled back. "You okay?"
"A little bruised," she admitted. "Trust me, it's a hell of a lot less than I was planning to do to you." She shook her head, still not beyond the confusion over why this was a problem. It wasn't as though he had never kissed her before. If that was what he'd wanted, then hell: she was right here!
"I guess I gave you reason," he admitted as he sat up on the edge of the bed. He reached down and rubbed one hand along his shin. "I'd say you did some damage too, though. I won't be in shorts for a while."
"I tried just asking," she reminded him. "But I couldn't get you to stay in the same room with me for five minutes."
"Every time I tried, this happened," he remarked, gesturing to his lower body, which was still showing evidence of significant arousal and recent denial. He looked miserable.
"Is it something I did?" she asked in confusion. She was pretty comfortable running around in next to nothing around him, but it was just because she'd always done so. Well, that and several years spent in co-ed quarters, both in the Academy and at college. It had never seemed to bother any of the guys, and frankly she kept better coverage than most of the girls. She also didn't have quite as much to show off as they did.
"Not something you did," he explained cryptically. "It's just you. Somewhere along the line, the way I saw you started to change, and I can't get it switched back."
Kara looked at him carefully for a moment. He still looked miserable. He had stood and moved away from the bed, although he was turned to look at her. He was leaning back up against the lockers, one knee bent and foot resting on the metal. It should have been a relaxed position, but she could tell it wasn't. She sat up, then scooted back up on the bed to cross her legs before her. "Okay," she began, managing this the same way she would any other difficulty she'd run across: head on. "Let's break this down. First, I like you. Second, you like me."
She turned to see if he was paying attention. His eyes were closed as he leaned against the locker, but at least he wasn't arguing. "Three," she continued. "We get along pretty well most of the time. Four, I like your family, and you don't have mine to deal with. Five, we've been sleeping in the same bed for the last six months. Lee, as far as I see it, this isn't adding up to a problem here. What am I missing?"
"Sex screws things up, Kara," Lee told her with a sigh.
"Yeah, well you're pretty screwed up now," she countered.
"I've never had a single relationship that ended in sex go further than that," he admitted softly. "It's awkward, and uncomfortable, and I don't want to feel that way about you."
"Isn't that how you're feeling now?"
He finally looked her in the eye. "I don't want to lose you," he said carefully. "Not to sex, and not to arguments. You're the only thing I really have left that I haven't messed up or lost to the war." He took a deep breath, let it out, and then walked over to sit next to her on the bed. "But I can't seem to think of you as one of the guys anymore. I don't know what to do."
Kara leaned her head over and rested it on her shoulder. She wasn't really trying to make things more difficult for him — she realized that he was truly upset about this. Still, touching him had become pretty natural over the past years, and it wasn't something she consciously thought about. "You won't lose me," she told him. "Either way. As pitiful as it sounds, I'll take you however I can get you."
"Thanks," he commented dryly, absently elbowing her in the arm.
"Ow!"
"What?" he asked, turning to look at her.
"You've got a grip," she said dryly, rubbing the arm that he had just hit.
"That bad?" he asked in concern.
"I'll live," she remarked. She had already told him that she was probably bruised. "But it's a little sore."
"Let me see," he told her. It wasn't a question.
"The conversation we just had, and now you want my shirt off?" she asked with a grin. "Talk about not making up your mind."
"Cute," he fired back. "Now off."
She didn't seem to have much choice in the matter. He had already popped the buckle on the pressure belt of the flight suit, and one hand was on its way to the zipper. "Hang on," she told him with a quick slap. "I know how to undress myself."
"Then do it," he advised. The look on his face didn't allow for any arguments.
She slipped the zipper down, then eased the top of her flight suit down sore arms. He really couldn't see anything — two regulation undershirts saw to that — but given their previous clinch she was still a little uncomfortable. He'd been right about that much at least; thinking about him that way changed things.
"Shit," he said softly, tracing blue marks gently with a finger. "That looks bad."
She tried to shrug off his concern, but her arms did hurt. They just might be swelling a little, too. "You didn't have much of a choice," she reassured him. "If it had been anyone else, we'd be dealing with a broken jaw now, and I don't mean mine. I wasn't holding anything back when I came in. Thankfully, we've been beating on one another long enough that you knew how to block me."
"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better," he said bitterly. "This is a hell of a lot worse than my shins, and you had boots on."
"Still do," she assured him. "So drop it, or I'll kick you again. It isn't the first time we've marked one another up." With a grin, she added, "And I doubt it will be the last."
He had to smile at that. She'd known he would. "I'm sorry," he told her honestly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Hell, I know that," she told him with a wide smile. "I can't say the same, though. I spent at least four hours of my patrol thinking of ways to take you apart."
"Thank the Lords it wasn't a long patrol," he remarked dryly, but his smile was still in place.
They sat there for a few moments in silence, leaning against one another, but otherwise not touching. Kara was just glad to have some of the peace restored between them. Lee's presence was comforting to her — it always had been — and it was something she had desperately missed. She had known that his absence annoyed her, but she hadn't realized how much it had messed with her equilibrium. She knew the knowledge should bother her. She supposed on some level it did. She didn't like relying on anyone else for her own happiness.
"Kara?"
"Hmm?" she asked, still staring off into space and really not thinking about much of anything. The patrol had worn her out. The fight had exhausted her. Emotions were a pain in the ass.
"I didn't scare you, did I?" he asked softly.
"Scare me?"
"When I pinned you," he clarified. "I mean, after"
She shook her head adamantly. "I wasn't afraid of you," she reassured him. "I was too pissed to be scared. Besides, I know you. You might leave a couple of bruises, but you wouldn't really hurt me. I don't think you'd hurt anyone. It just isn't in you. I half-expected you to fight back, anyway. I wasn't surprised, so I really didn't get scared. Well, not after we hit the bed," she told him with a grin. "I was a little nervous when I thought we were going to hit the floor. You're damned heavy."
"Am not," he argued, but she could hear the relief in his voice.
He did have some reason for concern. She still startled pretty easily if he came up behind her in the dark, and especially when she was running. The assault had left a few permanent scars, but she was getting past them. It was slow, and she had to credit lee with the patience of a saint when she blew up at him, but gradually she was working past it. Leave it to him to worry about her feelings when she'd been the one to attack him.
"Need some ice for your arms?" he asked softly. Guilt: she could hear it in his voice.
"Do you need it for your legs?" she fired back with a glare.
His smile went ear to ear, and for the first time in weeks she actually saw dimples. It brought home more than anything else just how tense he'd been about this situation. She still didn't understand that. He'd known her almost all his life; she'd think he could just talk to her about this. "Actually, yeah," he admitted. "I'll grab some extra for you."
"I'll catch a shower," she told him, finally standing up and moving away. "I promise to be fully dressed when you return."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Not going to let me live this down, are you?" he asked on a sigh.
"Nope."
"Figures," he muttered, and then walked out the hatch.
Kara took her time with the shower, knowing that it would take Lee quite a while to get his hands on ice. It wasn't all that common on the Galactica, and the kitchens were two decks down. She washed her hair, let the cool water flow over arms that were really starting to ache, and then dried herself off with a towel. She slipped on her underclothes, and the duty uniform she'd left sitting on the sink so that she could keep her promise to him, and then exited the tiny bathroom. Lee still wasn't back.
Lying down on the bed, she tried to run through all of it in her mind. It still didn't make a whole lot of sense to her. Zak had never acted like an idiot when he'd been interested, and while Lee wasn't a whole lot like his brother, she was having a hard time seeing the big deal. If Lee wanted to get closer, why the hell not just tell her? If she'd said no, he wouldn't be any worse off than he already was. And if she said yes, then his problem was solved. Avoiding it just didn't make sense to her.
She decided it must just be his nature. He wasn't big on conflict. He could argue with the best of them, but only when pushed to it. He could hold a grudge forever, but he did so with a stoic silence that grated on the nerves rather than initiating an assault. He was just a diplomat at heart, trying to make everything level out. That was how he kept her balanced. Her own personality was volatile — as she'd proved this afternoon — and it did her good to have someone keep her thinking.
What she didn't know was how she was going to manage when that one person that made her think had stopped doing so himself. In the end, she decided that it really didn't matter. If he didn't get himself together, she'd just hit him again; or at least try. She hadn't had so much fun in ages.
Kara then fell asleep, with a smile on her face.