authors: claira and pen
genre:kara/lee. very kara/lee.
rating: pg-13

[ m a k e   i t   y o u r   b e s t   l i e ]

The gym is silent but for the heavy panting and the slap of flesh against fabric. Kara dances out of the way of Lee's fist, and breathes out.

"So," she says, and pushes out a right hook. "Frakked anyone while I've been gone?"

A left hook flies towards her and she cuts back.

"No," he says. "Have you?"

"Oh yeah," she says, and gasps as he grazes her side. "In between piloting the raider and dodging cylons." She hits out with her left and misses. "I have a busy social life. It keeps me on my toes."

"It keeps you on your back," he snips, and her right arm comes swinging around towards his face. He ducks and thrusts his arms up, clumsily catching her arm between the gloves and pulling her face close to his. "Going to deny it?" and she kicks out at him.

She can feel his breath on her cheek, and she considers biting his nose.

"Are you calling me a whore, Lee Adama?" She spits out his name like an epithet, and he doesn't even pause.

"No, you're too cheap for that," he says, and she doesn't think, just wrenches her fist out of his grip and slams it into his jaw, but she doesn't have enough room to get enough momentum and he barely flinches.

"You can do better than that," he tells her. "Come on. You're Starbuck. Invincible. Everyone says so."

She can't ever remember being so angry. "I'm not the god, Apollo," she says, pulling herself closer to him, watching him roll his head back slightly as her lips brush his ear. "Why don't you go and frak Ellen Tigh, if you're that repressed?"

A muscle twitches in his jaw and she's waiting for his retort when the hatch opens.

"Hey, Starbuck," says Helo as he ducks into the gym. She's sure he notices something going on, but he just keeps on walking and talking like good old Helo. "Didn't the doctor tell you no boxing with that rib?" he continues, and she starts to think some pretty bad things about good old Helo as Lee releases her and she backs away.

"Frak you," she says as she starts to paw at the ties on her gloves. She pushes past without looking at him.

"What are you trying to do, kill her?" she hears Helo yell at Lee just as she shuts the door.

Yelling silenced, she focuses on getting the damn gloves off, ripping at the laces with her teeth, but she's shaking, and when did that happen? Helo appears at her elbow and reaches for the laces, but she pushes him away.

"Don't," she says, but he tries again anyway.

She lets him. She's still shaking.


He can smell the smoke from the podium. It curls around him and once he’s noticed it, it’s impossible to ignore. He looks down at her, and sure enough, the cigar is dangling from her hand. She leans back in her chair and smiles at him, bringing it to her lips. He loses his train of thought mid-sentence and can’t find it again.

“I am sick of your disrespect, Starbuck,” he snaps into the silence, and the whole room seems to sit up and pay attention.

She tilts her head slightly, smiles again and blows the smoke at him, and his hands tighten on the podium so much it sends frissons of pain running down his fingers.

“Put that thing out, or leave this room.”

“Or you’ll do what, Captain?” she says. “Send me to the brig?”

He’s surprised the wood underneath his fingers doesn’t splinter.

“Everyone, dismissed.” The pilots stare at him and he repeats it, louder, until they start moving. “And Starbuck, stay here.”

“Yes, Sir,” she says as the pilots file out, most of them looking over the shoulder. He’s so far past caring it almost scares him.

She waits, slouching back in her chair, until the hatch closes behind Racetrack. “What have I done this time?”

“Don’t frak with me, Starbuck.”

“I thought that's what you wanted?” Her legs spread slightly, almost innocently, but it’s just enough to send the blood pounding through him.

He almost hates her.

“Kara – ”

She crosses her knees neatly. "Or am I just a pilot, CAG, Sir?"

“Get out,” he says. “Now.”

She blows him a kiss at the door.


He finds her, eventually. He was never going to let her get the last say.

“If you do that again, I’m sending you to the brig,” he says without preamble, and she looks up from placing the tools back in the box. He’s shutting the hatch behind him, and she almost wonders why he’s bothering. It’s not like the rumour mill isn’t working over time already.

“Fine.” She drops the spanner back in the box and stands to face him, kicking the lid shut with a clang.

“Why did you do it?”

“What? Smoking in your boring briefing or frakking the Vice President of the colonies?” She smiles viciously. “I keep getting my sins mixed up, Lee.”

"Are you trying to piss me off?" he asks and steps forward. His hands are clenched.

"Is it working?” She doesn’t back away. “And which is it?”

“Can you please play nice?”

“Sure,” she says, and moves before she can think, stepping in close and yanking his head down to hers. She kisses him, and it’s hard and bruising and swift. She pulls back just as his mouth moves under hers.

“There,” she says, giving his shoulders a quick brush with her fingertips before turning away, not wanting to look at his face. “We done here?”

“No,” he says, and she spins around because she was expecting him to be flustered, blushing, and he’s not. She takes one step back, two and then he’s calmly pushing her until she’s flat against the wall and pressed against him from head to foot.

She gasps before she can help it and the heat rises in her face. “Lee,” she manages.

And then he’s kissing her and her body arches into his, she can’t breathe, and his hands are too gentle on her skin.

When he pulls back it’s both too soon and not soon enough, and she tries to shut out the way he smells, feels against her, because she needs to sleep at night.

“We done here?” he says.

“Yeah,” she says, finally. “We’re done.”

He moves back slowly, and it takes every inch of self control she has not to pull his mouth back down to hers, run her hands over his shoulders and into his hair and grind her body against him. The thought alone sends heat slamming down her spine and she touches her mouth reflexively. She sees him swallow.

Her lips feel swollen.

"I’m going to go and do – CAG stuff,” he tells her, and tugs his uniform until it sits neatly.

“Lee,” she says, and he turns at the door. She shrugs. “Are we...”

“I’ll see you later,” he says, and smiles, and it’s real and genuine and when he’s gone she touches her mouth again. She can still taste him.


"Ante up!" Helo calls, and Crashdown starts making wild bets. Kara matches him bet for bet as Lee falls away. Helo's not far behind. She matches him until he bets Cally: then she throws her head back, drains her glass, and throws it at him. He ducks, and it bounces off the wall.

"You're a terrible shot, Starbuck," says Crashdown. She takes a long drag on her cigar and lets it out slowly.

"It was a warning shot," she breathes with a grin. "Cally can look after herself, but when you start betting your girlfriend in her absence." She shrugs, and indicates with her free hand. "But can I have it back?"

"Mine now." Crashdown retrieves it from the floor and places it beside him.

"Hey!" she says, "Not fair!" and Crashdown laughs.

Lee slides his glass along the table. "Have mine," he says quietly. She grins at him and he steals her cigar, watching her through the smoke as she sips the ambrosia and says something he doesn't quite catch to Crashdown.

It's mostly okay.


[ b a c k ]