Because, obviously, this ficlet needs a preface:

23:34 Me: hrm. I have... words... of space pirates being hired on. so, more mercenaries than pirates?
23:35 KAr: Mercenary space pirates that are ninjas on the side?
23:36 Me: ...giggles
23:36 KA: (looks innocent)
23:36 Me: Not that I know of... Kara's too loud to be a ninja.2
3:36 KA: Damn.
23:36 Me: Sam can swing the silent thing, though.
23:36 KA: Well, she can pilot the giant robot, then.

(this is not so, sadly)
(1,000 words of fic, 1,000 words of porn. sigh)
Warnings: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, het, porn, plotlessness.

Space pirates! Sorta.

Never Gonna Care 'Bout My Bad Reputation by ALC Punk!

Sam Anders hadn't planned to be a pirate when he grew up. It just... kind of happened. With the government being so totalitarian, he found it easier to be a smuggler. It seemed stupid and cliched, but it worked for him. And when he met Kara Thrace, it worked even better. She was one hell of a pilot, and he had the contacts they needed.

Finding a ship was pretty damned easy. Finding a ship that wouldn't fall apart or get them stopped wasn't so easy.

In the end, after an argument (and sex), they ended up signing onto a privateer, each listing their skills. Neither mentioned their opinions of the government, of course. But given that the privateer had its own questionable history, and her captain was a man who didn't like to deal with the law, they figured it would be good enough until they could start their own run.

The captain eyed them as they stepped into the cockpit. He gestured at Sam, "Let's see what you can do, kid."

"Sorry. My wife's the pilot." Wife. It still made him a little giddy that she'd said yes, and that they were married.

Kara was smirking. She was facing their new boss, but Sam could tell she was smirking as she said, "And Sammy here's just the muscle."

"Don't call me Sammy." He stepped closer, unable to not set a hand on her waist.

"Oooo." She glanced over her shoulder at him, amused.

"You two can leave the flirting outside the bridge."

"So, no sex in the pilot's chair?" Kara asked, turning back to face him.


Sam made himself pull his hand away from her waist. It was hard, because she was wearing a leather vest that ended just above it, and her pants came to just below it, giving him access to skin. He was rather embarrassed to admit to himself just how much he loved taking advantage of it. She probably wore them on purpose, and not just because the leather was practical and provided some protection against small arms fire.

The leather he was wearing was just as practical. Even if his wife liked to smack his ass and mock him. That usually resulted in him catching her against the wall and kissing her until she moaned.

Which had nothing whatsoever to do with their boss giving them orders.

Sam tuned back in as the man finished his instructions and Kara settled into her seat.

"Just take 'er out easy."


Hearing the slightly mocking tone, Sam looked around for something to hang onto. His wife could fly rings around anyone, piss her off, and she'd do so, literally. And while most ships had their own inertial dampeners, none of them could completely curtail the effects Kara's stunts could cause.

Sam held onto the strut supporting the ceiling as Kara put the medium-sized ship through its paces. Their captain wasn't smart enough to grab onto something, though he didn't quiet fall over. That was pretty impressive, given that the movement should have had him on his ass at least twice. And then Kara got bored and put the ship through the very simple maneuvers he'd requested.

It occurred to Sam as she settled them back into the slip and turned to look at the captain, that she might have just cost them their berth.

They'd live, it would just make things difficult.

"Well." Captain Tigh looked at him and then at Kara, "Can you control your wife, Mr. Anders?"

Sam released the metal, flexing his fingers. "No, sir. I just hang on for the ride."

"I see."

Kara turned in the seat and looked at them both. "You want someone who can get your ass out of anything, you hire us. You want to get caught? Kick us off your ship."

"Very aware of your own importance." Tigh noted with a hmphing sound.

Climbing out of the chair, Kara came over to Sam. "Being mice isn't gonna get us anywhere, captain."

The man made a sound of disapproval. "You're hired. Few rules here, no brawling among the crew, any job we take everyone gets a cut, and no talking about your jobs to anyone outside of this ship. That clear?"

"Yes, sir," Sam didn't salute. He nudged Kara when she didn't answer.

"Oh, yeah. Yes, sir."

The captain snorted, "You can take your wife to your cabin, you've got the one two doors down from this cockpit. She'll be spending most of her time here, anyway."

"Sir." Sam caught one of Kara's belt loops and tugged her backwards. "We'll settle in. When do we go on duty?"

"We don't jump off to our next destination for six hours. Get some rest."


Their quarters were sparse--a bunk, one cabinet for storing their gear and room under the bed for anything else. Sam eyed the bed, "Kinda small."

"Afraid I'll kick you out of bed, Sam?"


She snorted and grabbed his ass. "Only if you're snoring."

"You," he informed her, turning and pulling her against him by her belt loops, thumbs sliding against her skin, "snore worse than me."

"Maybe I'm not getting worn out enough," she murmured before going up on her toes and kissing him.

"You claiming I'm not satisfying?"

"If the shoe fits..."

Sam unzipped her pants and then stroked both hands up and under her vest. "Maybe it doesn't," he informed her as he fondled her breasts.

"Maybe..." She moaned in approval when he bent his head and kissed her neck.

Deciding her vest was in the way, Sam unhooked it and shoved it off her shoulders. Which of course meant that he felt the need to kiss her shoulders and got distracted from his original goal.

"Sam." Grabbing his head in both her hands, she tried to direct him with more purpose.

"There's this thing called foreplay, Kara," he informed her.

"Fuck foreplay." Releasing his head, she grabbed the front of his pants and unzipped them.

"Whoa." Sam caught her wrist before she could continue.

Her other hand slid inside his pants, roaming around to grope his ass. "Afraid you'll lose your control, Sam?"

"Maybe." He considered, then nudged her. "Turn around."

Kara blinked, then she grinned and turned slowly, leaning back against his chest. "Like this?"

"Yeah." Staring down at her exposed breasts and skin, Sam felt his mouth go dry. Really, it was unfair that she was this damned hot. It made his brain turn to mush. Bringing his hands to her waist, he rubbed the hollows above her hips, then stroked upwards to cup her breasts again. Closing his eyes, he dropped his mouth back to her shoulders.

She tasted like sweat and leather and Kara, and if he could bottle it, he could make a fortune.

Her breath hitched when he brushed his thumbs over her nipples.

So he did it again, just to hear that sound.

"Taking too long," Kara informed him, her voice breathless. She pressed her ass back against him, then wriggled and pulled away from him.

Deprived of naked and warm Kara skin against his hands, Sam opened his eyes.

Kara was kneeling on the bed, looking over her shoulder at him, "You're wearing too many clothes, Sam. And I'd suggest taking your boots off."

Pulling his shirt off, Sam made fairly quick work of kicking his boots to the side before wriggling out of his leather pants and joining her on the bed. She moved more to the center, still with her back to him.

Bouncing, she looked back at him, "Bed needs to be broken in."

Leaning forward, he kissed the base of her neck. "Yeah?" He licked the tattoo.

"Yeah." Kara dropped forward onto her hands and shifted to get comfortable.

Sam ran his hands up her legs and then started kissing his way up her spine as he moved into position. He slipped a hand between her legs and brushed a finger over her clit before slipping it into her cunt. She clenched around it and growled. "Sam."

Kissing her neck, Sam grinned. "Yes, Kara?"

"Ass." Reaching back with one hand, she wriggled and grabbed him and tugged, dislodging his hand.

"Gah." Deciding having sex with his wife was more important than teasing her, Sam followed her urging and thrust into her.

"Smart." She informed him.

"Yeah, well, someone has to have a brain in this relationship."

She laughed, then moaned at his next thrust. "Think it's you?"

"Sure." Moving his free hand up, he fondled her breasts.

Another laugh escaped her, breaking into another breathy moan as she arched and pushed back against him.

Feeling her clench around him, Sam moved his hand to her belly, fingertips skimming her skin and feeling the muscles ripple beneath. Really, if there was anyone he would put his money on in a fight, it would be his wife.

His finger brushed over her clitoris and she gasped. Doing it again, he kissed her neck again, tasting salt.

"Sam." She whimpered, before she moved against him, back arching as she came.

Holding her up, still moving, he felt the aftershocks go through her and moaned himself when she tightened around him.

"C'mon, Sam," she gasped, hands braced as she changed their rhythm, pressing back against him harder.

His brain and body surrounded by Kara, Sam gritted his teeth and tried to hang onto himself. A little control, after all, was warranted. Especially if he thought he could get another orgasm out of her.

Matching her thrusts and movements, he moved his hand back between her legs. Feeling himself sliding in and out of her almost snapped his control, but he moved his fingers up. Circling her clitoris with his fingertip, he grinned when she cursed at him.

"Sam--" the whine turned into a moan when he nipped her shoulder.

Two, three, and he could feel her tightening again, feel her control snapping as she arched and slid against him.

Sam followed her, this time, unable to hang onto his control as much as he'd like.

She sagged to the mattress, panting. "Bastard."

Getting the leverage, he shifted and fell sideways, bringing her with him. The wall and bed thunked against each other, but he ignored it and tucked her shoulder under his chin. "I am?"

"Yeah." She stretched her legs out and he slid one between them.

Her hand caught his and pulled his arm over her waist. "We're gonna get cold," he pointed out with a yawn.

"Yeah." With a sigh, she scrambled out of the bed and hunted around on the floor for something. Leaning over the bed, she swiped at him and then made a half-hearted attempt to clean between her own legs. "Shower sex, next time."

Sam yawned and patted the sheet, which was mostly clean, "Next time, yeah."

A snort escaped her and she climbed back in and pulled the blankets tup and over them before settling against his chest. Sam looped his arm over her waist and buried his face in her neck.

She made a grumbly noise and hooked her foot around his ankle, so he slid his leg back between hers.

Maybe this space mercenary thing was going to work out.