Pairing: Kara/D'anna Biers Set: During Final Cut, season 2.
Length: 600ish Title comes from 'Breaking up the Girl' by Garbage...
by ALC Punk!
"You're too tall." Kara says it after the sex.
D'anna rolls her eyes and turns sideways, half-falling out of the rack they're in. "You're just too short."
"Did that." She sounds smug.
Kara pushes up with her back, and D'anna flops out of the bed, landing in an undiginified heap on the floor. She starts giggling. "Did you get that?" Kara taunts, turning on her side.
"Oh, Lieutenant," D'anna's hand smacks her on the belly. "Don't you know not to piss off a reporter?"
"This is me, scared. Really."
"Mmm. I can see." It takes her a moment to right herself and clamber back in the rack, straddling Kara's hips. She has to bend double to avoid hitting her head on the rack above. "Very scared." She grabs Kara's hands.
Kara arches again, the muscles in her stomach rippling. The movement distracts D'anna, and she bends down to kiss her. Kara's lips meets hers eagerly, and for a strange moment, D'anna wonders if this is what it feels like to be devoured from the mouth down.
"Nice," the pilot murmurs, pulling back slightly.
"Nice?" D'anna bumps the wall, wriggling atop Kara, "I give up two hours of interview and bury my head between your legs, and all you can say is 'nice'?"
"Oh, honey," Kara's hand slides into her hair, "Feeling under-appreciated?"
"Did that already." Starbuck pulls her down again, nipping at her lips, "Wouldn't mind doing it again."
"Can't." Reluctantly, D'anna pulls back, getting in a few gropes along the way, "I've got an interview scheduled with some of your pilots. And it's hard catching you in-between patrols, frakking, and the occasional shower." She climbs out of the rack, standing and wincing sightly with her new set of bruises.
Picking up her clothing from where it landed in a heap on the floor, D'anna glances back at the pilot. "Are you always this rough on your lovers?"
Kara shifts onto her side, smirking, "Is this on or off the record?"
"Depends on the lover, honey," Kara sits up and fiddles with the edge of her comforter.
"Mmm. I suppose it does." Buttoning her pants, D'anna considers, then shakes her head. "I think I'll keep that out of the documentary."
"Wouldn't want your sex life splashed across the fleet."
"Yeah, but nobody cares about mine, I'm just a lowly reporter."
Starbuck lets out a bark of laughter and stands, reaching out to wrap her fingers behind D'anna's neck, tugging her head down. "Yeah, you keep sayin' that..."
The kiss is oddly bittersweet.
Disengaging, D'anna shrugs her shirt on. "You really are the crazy one."
"They don't call me Starbuck for nothin'."
Shaking her head, D'anna finishes buttoning the fabric, then looks at Kara. "See you round?"
"I don't doubt it," the pilot smirks, "After all, once you've gone Starbuck, you never go back."
"We'll see about that."
But as she slips back out into the corridor, already planning her next interview, D'anna considers. Starbuck is intoxicating, incredibly hot, and got under her clothes faster than her last five lovers. Almost faster than the last investigative journalist had, even.
A smirk played around D'anna's lips. And here she'd thought Starbuck would be hard to get.