summary: kara/lee. very kara/lee.
rating: pg-13. maybe r?
a/n: written for pen, for she is whiny. with thanks to sloane.
She thinks that she heard him wrong.
She stands there, frozen in shock and some emotion she tries not to identify.
Tigh sits down at his desk, picks up another stack of papers and moves it in front of him.
“Dismissed, Captain, Lieutenant,” he says, not looking at either of them, and Kara swallows back everything she wants to say and leaves the room. She can feel Lee behind her as she walks away.
"Kara." She picks up her pace, almost running. “Kara!” His hand closes on her shoulder, jerks her to a halt. She pushes his hand off.
“I’m sorry,” she tells him. “But I don’t really know what to say.”
He reaches for her, and she spins away and runs down the corridor.
Tigh makes the announcement to the pilots, and Kara stands next to him in front of the room, hands clenched behind her back. The room is totally silent as he tells them Captain Adama has been demoted to Lieutenant for behaviour unfitting of an officer. He introduces Kara as the new CAG.
All Kara can think is Lee, frakking someone else.
She avoids him because she doesn’t know what to say, and she’s not entirely sure that she wouldn’t hit him, and she can’t do that because she’s not supposed to care.
In the hangar, Cally calls her Lieutenant, and then flushes and corrects her mistake.
Kara tells her not to worry, and asks for the spanner.
Kara sees the pilot at breakfast in the mess hall, sitting, laughing at a table with some of the technicians. She’s pretty, long dark hair, slender frame – everything Kara isn't, and the hot coffee burns her fingers as it sloshes over her tray.
She wonders, running alone in the morning, when it was that Lee turned into someone she doesn’t know, can’t predict – and decides it was probably the moment that the bullets from Boomer's gun tore into his father.
Sometimes she remembers the look in his eyes a moment before her fist had slammed into his jaw, and her fingers reach for her cheekbone involuntarily.
It’s those times that she speeds up, until the burn in her lungs and her muscles leaves her mind blissfully blank.
It’s strange, being the one behind the podium. The room still whispers with rumours until she calls them to order, and Lee always sits far up the back. She tries not to look at him and manages pretty well.
The one time she does look at him, he’s looking straight at her – it shouldn’t have surprised her, it was only to be expected – but it’s still a jolt and she flounders mid-sentence.
She thinks she sees him smile.
She's filling out reports when he opens the door to her office.
“I’m busy, Lieutenant.”
The door shuts again. She stabs her pen through the paper.
She wants to ask him what he used to get the smudges of blue whiteboard marker off his hands.
One night, she can’t sleep and she rolls over and looks at Lee. He’s asleep, the sheet down around his hips and she lets her eyes drift slowly down over his face, his chest. She’s missed looking at him.
A minute drifts into ten, and then he shifts slightly in his sleep and he breathes “Kara” and it’s like a punch in her gut. She rolls back over, clutches the sheets tight around her shoulders. He says her name once more, and his breathing changes.
She bites her lip so hard she's surprised it doesn't bleed.
When she comes back from her run, he’s standing there, pulling his tanks over his head. He smells like sweat and vipers and she finally cracks.
“What the frak were you thinking?”
He shrugs, doesn’t turn to face her. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“What do you want from me?”
The words slice her open, and she clenches her hands into fists. “Don’t frakking start that with me.”
“Yes, Captain,” he tells her, and turns, and she can’t move because he’s looking at her, looking at her and it’s like he’s touching her.
She looks away first.
He leaves for the shower.
On the next CAP roster, she pencils his name in next to hers without thinking.
Starbuck and Apollo.
She reaches for the eraser, her fingers shaking.
“You could get demoted for this.”
Her head falls back against the wall. “I know.”
“This is wrong.” His teeth nip at her neck and she shudders, clutches at his shoulders. “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”
“I know.” His fingers are slipping down over her stomach, lower, lower and his mouth touches her shoulder.
“If we get caught –” he says against her skin, and his fingers twist, “You know what will happen?”
She can’t think.
The next time, he breaks first.
Her pants are caught around her knees. The hatch isn't locked.
"Why do you think?"
After the fourth time, she still hasn't worked it out.